#look at me actually doing replies it is a goddamn miracle

[metallicaislife]

Birthday Boy

A/N: It is never too early to celebrate Cliff's birthday. Or just celebrate Cliff in general❤️

Requested by: Anon

Genre: 18+ mostly fluff with a smutty ending

Word Count: 1,246

Warnings: oral(m receiving), m x f pairing

The last thing I wanted to do was seem suspicious, like I was plotting something. Even though that is exactly what I was doing. 

Many weeks before Cliff’s birthday in the most nonchalant manor I asked if he had any plans for his birthday. 

“We have a show that night. Afterwards I’ll probably just go home and light a joint.” He shrugged. 

“That sounds like a nice chill birthday.” I replied. 

Cliff and I had been friends for years, and the past few months we’ve been more than friends. No label though, we’re just going with the flow. I still want to absolutely spoil him though. He doesn’t realize how much he truly means to me and the rest of the guys. 

That’s when I cooked up the best plan, and I was thankful the guys were on board to help. I was worried Lars would get too excited and ruin the surprise, but he hasn't, which is a goddamn miracle. 

My first surprise was executed with the help of his parents. Jan called me to tell me he was asleep and Ray brought Cliff’s car keys to me at the front door. I didn’t technically steal his car, I just happened to take it without him knowing. I took it to the gas station and filled it up so it would be full when he went to leave for the Metallimansion in the afternoon. I also popped a new tape he’d been talking about for a while in the cassette player, placing the cover in the glove box. 

My second surprise was going over to the Metallimansion a couple hours before he was due to arrive so I could make breakfast for lunch for him and the guys. I dipped before he arrived so I could keep on schedule to get the party after the show ready. 

While at home gathering the supplies I’d collected my phone rang. 

“Hello?” I answered. 

“Now I know the guys can make something in a jam, but they don’t make pancakes like you do. Why’d you leave?” Cliff’s voice came over the receiver. 

“I was going to stay, but I got called into work. I’m just finishing getting ready to go.” I lied. 

“From this house, someone from work called you here?” He pushed. 

“Yes, Susan has that number for emergencies if she can’t reach me at home.” Not a lie, it just wasn’t the truth in this case. 

“Alright. Well, will you be available tonight? I’m bummed you didn’t get to stay for lunch and I want to spend time with you today.” He said, making my heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, I’ll be around.” I replied. 

“Good. Thanks for the gas and cassette by the way.” I could hear the grin in his voice. 

“Happy Birthday, Cliff.” I said smiling. 

“See you tonight.” He replied and hung up. I placed the phone on the hook and leaned against the wall with my hand over my heart. That man will be the death of me. 

The rest of the day went by quickly as I got everything in order. It was cheesy, and he might hate it but I decorated the Metallimansion, I had a little bit of help as some of his friends from other bands filtered in. 

His friends and I were just chilling. I checked the time and they would be home soon so we turned the lights off and hid. 

I could hear James, Kirk and Lars enter. 

“Why didn’t anyone flick on the lights?” Cliff asked, he turned the lights on, I jumped out with the few friends of his I had invited. 

“Surprise!” We shouted. 

Cliff stared at us, he began to smile wide, it even reached his eyes. So either he hated it and was pretending not to, or he was actually happy with this. 

“Thank you guys, this really means the world to me.” Cliff beamed. 

“Don’t thank us, it was all her.” Lars said, nodding to me. 

Cliff looked over, our eyes met. I couldn’t begin to describe the look in them. 

“Thank you.” He said again. 

“You mean a lot to us, all of us. Happy birthday Cliff.” I smiled sweetly at him. 

The party was well underway, everyone was chatting. Cliff seemed happy to see his friends. 

I was in the kitchen getting some water when arms snaked around my middle and a chin landed softly on my head. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Cliff asked. 

“It’s your party birthday boy.” I replied. 

“I’ve had my fill. I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you.” He said and nuzzled my head. 

“I gotta clean up.” 

“You've done so much, you planned all this and decorated. Let the guys take it down. Are you really going to deny me my birthday wish?” He said, giving my middle a squeeze. My cheeks heated up. 

“Okay, where to?” I asked 

“Your place.” He answered. 

“Your wish is my command. Let’s go.” I replied. His arms loosened, before I could get far he turned me and pulled me into him placing a tender kiss on my lips. 

“Thank you.” He smiled at me. 

“You’re welcome.” I replied, smiling back at him.

We slipped out the back, the drive to my place was quick. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself as we entered my room.

“Let me thank you properly.” He said as he nipped at my neck.

“Mmm, as nice as that sounds, you're the birthday boy and I want to celebrate your body.” I said. 

“That was so cheesy.” He laughed. 

“Shuddup you love it. Now sit.” I commanded. 

“Yes ma’am.” He said with a grin as he sat on the edge of my bed. I slowly took my clothes off leaving the lingerie set I’d bought for this occasion. Cliff’s eyes widened slightly, then he began to smirk. 

I knelt in front of him and unzipped his jeans. I reached in pulling out his cock rubbing it softly. Cliff groaned as I gave his tip a couple kitten licks. I licked from the base to the top a couple times before taking him in my mouth. He leaned back on his elbows as I began bobbing my head back and forth in a slow sensual manner. 

“Shit. Feels s’good.” He groaned, throwing his head back as his eyes closed. I started to move a bit faster. His hips started to move as he thrust into my mouth. My eyes were glossy as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. He opened his eyes looking at me. 

“So goddamn beautiful, sucking me so well.” He praised me. He laid back, and his hand gripped my hair as he pushed my head down as far as I could go, he came down my throat. His grip on my hair loosened and I released his cock from my mouth. His chest heaved. I wiped the spit and cum that had dribbled out from my chin. 

“Come here.” He opened his arms. I crawled and laid in his arms. 

“Thank you for the best birthday, babe.” He murmured. 

“You’re welcome. You’re really special to me so I wanted to show you that.” I replied softly. 

“Mm you’re so sweet.” He kissed my forehead. “Can I ask for one more birthday wish?” He asked. 

“Of course.” I replied. 

“Will you let me drown between your thighs now?” He asked with a smirk. I giggled. 

“Your wish is my command.”

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[vacuouslyfalse]

Genuine question re: nuclear energy here. MechE undergrad, (USian) corporate engineer currently, going back for my Master's in nuclear. Where and how do you think an individual laborer's efforts would be most effectively directed?

Short answer: I don't know

Longer answer: I look informed on these things because I read a fair amount and pay close attention to statistics, which makes me about 99th percentile informed compared to the internet at large, but about 3rd percentile informed compared to people who actually study these things. I have a decent grasp on the big picture but no real command of specifics; I'm a dilettante, not an expert.

Speculative answer: I have a lot of mutuals who follow this kind of thing more closely than I do, and some of them (@raginrayguns et al) might have a more useful answer to this. Check the replies/reblogs in a bit.

Vague answer: whatever path you go down, I don't see a way to get to carbon neutrality without nuclear. We need a consistent power supply that works under any conditions, and nuclear seems like the best bet. The timelines for nuclear construction in the US are very long, but it's worth remembering that 2030 is just a date picked out of a hat - it'll be a goddamn miracle if we're at carbon neutrality in the US by 2050. The best time to build a nuclear reactor was 40 years ago, the second third fifth eighteenth - well listen we need more nuclear power is what I'm saying.

[katsu28]

christmas tree miracle

pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

summary: when running horribly late on finding a christmas tree actually turns out to be one of the best decisions of your life

warnings: light swearing

a/n: taking a tiny break from writing 1k celebration things for some holiday fluff, but i'll be back on it soon!! come join kait's sweetest celebration if you'd like! <3

navigation + taglist

(gif found on pinterest)

Things were not going well. With the hectic nature of the holiday season taking over your whole life this time of year, you’d forgotten that you were in charge of securing a Christmas tree for your family.

It was now t-minus five days until Christmas, and you had yet to find a fir tree anywhere in the Outer Banks, which is how you ended up at at a smaller, more mom and pop farm called Woodards over on the south side of the island, praying for a goddamn Christmas miracle that would somehow get you the perfect tree.

But much to your dismay so far, no luck. The tiny lot was near void of trees, save for a few pathetic wilted ones over by the metal fence that definitely wouldn’t bode well if you brought any of them home.

You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as you dragged a heavy hand down your face at the disaster you’d created for yourself. Christmas was your family’s favorite time of year, and you’d fucked everything up before the day had even come.

How were you supposed to go home and tell them that their favorite holiday tradition wasn’t happening this year, all because you’d gotten a little busier than normal?

“Hey,” A voice called from a little ways away, drawing your attention to the owner of said voice, a boy around your age, broad shoulders in a thick, worn looking grey jacket and blond curls poking out from under a red baseball cap that he tugged down tighter on his head as he peered over at you curiously. “You okay?”

You straightened up instantly, and you sniffed, trying to gain back your composure so you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself in front of this stranger. This very cute stranger.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just, erm—trying to find a Christmas tree,” You sighed, gesticulating vaguely.

“Well, this is a Christmas tree farm, so you’ve definitely come to the right place.” He replied, lips quirking up into an amused smile. “Though you’re comin’ in a little late in the game, I’d say. You can probably see that we don’t have much of…anything, really.”

“‘S on me, I totally forgot I was supposed to get it this year.”

“Busy holidays?”

“That’s putting it simply. Feels like it’s coming a lot faster than usual.” You chuckled humorlessly, dragging a tired hand down your face. The boy nodded knowingly, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Any chance you’ve magically got any good trees somewhere around here?”

“I think I might be able to help you out.” He hummed, making a dramatic show of scanning his surroundings before crooking a finger at you to follow him. You fell into step with him as he navigated his way across the farm deftly, your steps a little less sure. What did your parents always tell you about going to a secondary location with a stranger?

The boy could definitely tell you were on edge, because he snorted, an amused smile stretching his lips. “Relax, I’m not gonna do whatever you’re thinkin’. We keep some trees over behind the main tent—the not quite perfect but still pretty good ones, just for poor old saps like you.”

“Oh, he’s funny too!” You rolled your eyes playfully, which made him smile even bigger.

“I try my best. I’m JJ, by the way. Christmas tree extraordinaire.”

“Y/N. Poor old sap.” That drew a laugh from him, and you felt a little bit proud of it. “So what made you wanna work on a Christmas tree farm?”

“Want? Nothing really, but I’ve known the Woodards since I was a kid so they usually hook me up with seasonal jobs. Lawn mowing in the spring, pool cleaning in the summer, that kinda stuff.” He explained, a fond smile creeping over his face. “Plus, Mrs. Woodard makes the best snickerdoodles ‘round this time of year. I swear I could never eat anything other than those cookies for the rest of my life and die happy.”

“They seem really nice.”

“They’re good people. Some of the nicest you’ll ever meet.”

“And they’ve got good taste in employees too. Are all your coworkers this charming?”

“Oh, stop it,” JJ brushed you off unconvincingly, holding a hand over his heart. “You’re making me blush!”

“It’s true! If all Christmas tree salesmen were as good as you, we’d have an even bigger tree shortage!” You laughed. It was weird how you could feel this at ease with someone you’d met not even twenty minutes ago, but here you were, flirting up a storm with JJ. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward at all, it felt…natural. Easy. Like you’d known each other for a lot longer.

“You’re just gunning for my cookies, aren’t you?” He teased, nudging your arm with a pointy elbow. You feigned surprise, shrugging innocently. “There might be some on the counter by the cash register later, you can probably snag a few if I’m feeling generous.”

“How kind of you!” Your conversation with JJ was cut short by your arrival at wherever he’d taken you, the sizable amount of pretty decent looking fir trees standing propped up against the fence proving a worthy distraction. “Oh wow, these are beautiful!”

“Feel free to look a little closer if you want, I’ll, uh, start getting some rope ready for you.” JJ set off almost instantly, leaving you studying the trees intently for the perfect one.

You’d only just found one when he reappeared, this time with a bundle of thin rope over his shoulder and some plastic netting, tossing the two on the ground next to the tree you were eyeballing once he was close enough.

“Oh, this one’s a nice one,” He noted, running a hand along the bristly branches. “You’ve got good taste.” You just grinned at him, happy that you were actually getting a tree after all. “I’ll get it tied up and ready to go then!”

JJ made quick work of packing up the giant tree, maneuvering it easily like he’d done it a thousand times before—which, judging by the lack of trees around, he probably had. Within no time, he’d looped the rope around the stump, slinging the whole thing over his shoulder and setting off towards the main tent with you in tow, without so much as breaking a sweat. It was probably one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, JJ, seriously,” You breathed, digging in your bag for your wallet. JJ leaned the tree against the fence next to the tent, brushing his hands off on his jeans as he made his way behind the counter.

He punched a few buttons on the ancient looking register, shrugging casually. “‘S what I’m here for. Glad I could help.”

“You’re literally the best. What do I owe you?”

“Normally, I’d hike up the price on this beaut for such a last minute score, but luckily for you, there’s a discount today,” He said proudly, grinning a wide, troublemaker smile. “I like to call it my ‘saving a pretty girl from more holiday distress’ discount.”

Your brows flew up at the boldness in his words, but you found yourself smiling. JJ the cute Christmas tree boy had game. “Oh? So how much do I owe you now?”

“Eh, sixty bucks.” JJ replied. Your brows furrowed at the low price. For a tree like this, which was actually pretty nice, you would’ve thought it would cost you an arm and a leg. “And a date.” He added hastily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“A date.” You echoed, tilting your head thoughtfully, like you were pondering it. Truth be told, you weren’t actually thinking about turning him down at all. In fact, you had also been grappling with asking him out in the duration that you’d gotten to know him.

“Yeah. Coffee, movie, walk around town—I don’t mind. I just…I’d really like to see you again, Y/N.” JJ looked almost nervous now, lips pressing together into a sheepish grin.

“I’d really like to see you again too, JJ.” You meant it. There was just something about him that made you want to know more. You passed him the money you owed him for the tree, which he secured in the register drawer before nodding curtly.

“Here, lemme walk you to your car,” He insisted, shouldering the tree once again with minimal effort. The walk to your car was shorter than you would’ve liked, but alas, here you were. JJ stared up at the roof of your car, propping his hands on his hips with a furrowed brow. “I can get this up there in no time. Light work.” He flipped his hat backwards over his blond locks, pulling a pair of work gloves out of his jacket pocket and sliding them on.

He’d shucked his layers off until he was just in a t-shirt that gave you full view of his biceps, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the sight of him and those biceps hefting the large tree on top of your car. And he was right, he really did get the tree secured to the top of your car in no time, and soon enough he’d opened your door for you, helping you climb in.

Shutting your door carefully, JJ leaned into your open window, braced elbows and open palm holding up his chin as he watched you throw your bag onto the passenger seat. “I’ll see you around?” He asked, cheeks flushing pink in boyish hope. “Soon, maybe?”

“How’s next Friday sound? Lunch at noon?” You offered, tilting your head at him.

JJ beamed at you happily. “Sounds perfect. Text me when you get home, yeah? Gotta make sure that tree survives the journey.”

Your cheeks warmed at the care in his words, even though he tried to disguise it with teasing. “I will.”

“Good.” He murmured, looking like he wanted to say something, but deciding against it. “I’ll see you Friday.”

“See you Friday,” You echoed, smiling warmly at him. “And thank you again, JJ. I mean it. You’ve literally just saved my Christmas.”

“Saving poor old saps is my favorite part of the holiday season.” He teased, winking at you.

“Poor old saps like me?”

“No…nothing like you. You’re way better.”

Feeling emboldened by the wistful look on his face, you leaned out, fingers angling his jaw to the side and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Bye, JJ.”

“Bye.” He sighed, pushing off from the window with his cheeks now a pleased pink. “Drive safe.” You waved at him once more before starting your car, watching him get smaller and smaller in your rearview mirror as you drove away.

Staying true to your word, you texted him the minute after you pulled into your driveway.

Y/N: miracle tree has officially made it home.

A reply came in almost immediately—a selfie of JJ, mid-munch on a cookie, squinting happily at the camera.

JJ: glad to see it. u just missed a fresh batch of snickerdoodles. sucks to suck, doesn’t it 😉

Y/N: you better bring some on friday then

JJ: of course i will. but i gotta tell u now, they come at a price

Y/N: and what would that be?

JJ: one tin of cookies for another date

You hadn’t even gone on your first date, and here he was bartering for a second. He was bold, and you liked it.

Y/N: deal <3

taglist!

@milkiane @moralina @scenesofobx @tenaciousperfectionunknown @strawberryforks @vesperluvsbillie @like-gabriel-and-castiel @fearthewalkingbitch @eichenhouseproperty @dpaccione @directioner5life @liltimmyst @lilygreennn @sunkissedsteve @mrstealuregirl @izzymaybank @bubsonnobx @laylasbunbunny @cityofidek

[band--psycho]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Beaten By A Gingerbread House

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a fantastic day!

I hope youall enjoy my last stroy for my Christmas Writing Challenge! 💛

Prompy-My gingerbread house needs to be condemned

“So, how’s it going?” Natasha asked, leaning against the door frame that was between the living room and the kitchen. 

She’d been trying to let Y/n conquer this battle on her own; but after hearing a fair few swear words leave her lips followed by a very frustrated sigh, Natasha decided to intervene. 

“I think my gingerbread house needs to be condemned,” Y/n groaned, looking at the gingerbread house that had collapsed only moments ago.

“It just keeps collapsing; at this point I think there’s more icing than there is actual gingerbread,” she continued, completely unaware that Natasha was now standing behind her until she felt Natasha’s arms around her waist, her fingers lightly dancing along the waistband of Y/ns jeans. 

Even though Y/n's statement was entirely true; pretty much all of the gingerbread pieces were covered in icing; and Y/n's hands were completely covered in the very icing that was all over gingerbread. 

“You just need to relax malysh,” Natasha cooed softly against Y/n's ear; as Y/n attempted to ignore Natashas soft touches as she once again constructed the gingerbread house, only for it to collapse for umpteenth time. 

“This needs to be finished in an hour and a half, I don’t have time to relax,” Y/n replied; frustration lacing her voice. 

“You’re just gonna make it worse if you carry on though,” Natasha countered softly; placing a delicate kiss on her neck.

That kiss was the first of many that Natasha left along Y/n's neck; some were soft and gentle; others not so much. Y/n knew she’d have a trail of hickeys on her neck

“Nat-” 

At this point; the thought of building a gingerbread house had gone out of the window. 

“Shhh, just relax,” Natasha whispered, her hands moving to the zipper of Y/ns jeans

“Let me take care of you,” Natasha cooed in Y/n's ear; as she pulled her jeans down.

Natasha knew that there was one way to make Y/n relax; it would be cruel of her if she didn’t help her girlfriend out when she was clearly very stressed.

~~~~~

“Feel better?” Natasha asked; her lips ghosting over the marks she’d left on Y/ns neck.

“Much,” Y/n answered with a blissful smile before she noticed the time on the clock; the daydreaming look in her eyes vanishing almost instantly being replaced with the same stress she felt earlier. 

“Shit,” 

“What?” Natasha asked, confused by the sudden change in Y/ns mood. 

“I’ve only got an hour to make this goddamn gingerbread house!” 

“Breathe,” Natasha cooed, rubbing her hand soothingly across her shoulders. “Or I’ll have to take care of you again,”

If it wasn’t for the fact Y/n knew this gingerbread house had to be done in such a short amount of time she wouldn’t have been so against spending more quality time with Natasha. Especially because she had that mischievous glint twinkling in her eyes.

But the clock was ticking. There wasn’t any time for that; no matter how much Y/n wanted it. 

“Nat, we don’t have time-”

“Then calm down and I’ll help you try and build this,” 

“Okay…”

At this point Y/n was done with the gingerbread house; it would’ve been easier and a lot less stressful to just buy one from the store. Why she had the idea of trying to build one was beyond even her reasoning. 

So that meant that Natasha did most of the work in building the gingerbread house; and by some miracle she managed to do it perfectly; after a few of the same issues that Y/n had. 

“Don’t look so surprised baby,” Natasha began, a smirk tugging at her lips as she noticed the shock in Y/n's eyes. She was baffled how Natasha had managed to construct something she’d spent what felt like decades on in just a few minutes. 

It truly was a Christmas miracle. 

“Thank you,” Y/n sighed in relief; resting her head on Natasha’s shoulder. 

“No prob-” before Natasha could finish her sentence; the gingerbread house once again, fell apart. 

There was silence for a few moments as both Y/n and Natasha stared at the mess on their kitchen worktop. 

“We’re just gonna have to buy one,” Natasha stated; dragging Y/n away before she could argue.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @yn-ymn-yln @muzzyandbusy @gloryekaterina @rosieposie0624 @rustedbridges @amaryllis23 @wild-rose-35 @sassymox @munsinner @goddessofdawns @little-diable @beth-gallagher22 @bxnnywatts @the-chaotic-cow @camilyb @justreadingficsdontmindme @malfoys-demigod @misshale21 @delightfulsharkfarmstudent @bbmommy0902 @scorpionchild81 @elliewigginton20 @natashasleftelbow @swords-are-cool @poptartpoppyy

[burins]

@try-set-me-on-fire tagged me in a couple things which i forgot to reply to bc i spent all of tuesday writing a completely separate fic from anything i'd been working on. sometimes we get a little possessed. ANYWAY. happy wip wedthursday i am back to work on the thirst trap fic and booster gold is here! hi booster <3

“Superman! Just the guy I was looking for.” Booster Gold is clapping him on the arm. Booster goddamn Gold is slinging his arm around Clark’s shoulders, completely impervious to the frigid glare Clark levels him with. Is it because Booster’s from the future that he’s utterly immune to social cues? “You see, when I heard you were experiencing a little difficulty in matters of the heart, I thought, well, who better than Booster Gold to advise you? After all, Ted and I took a little while to figure things out, so you could say I’ve been in your shoes. Ha ha!” He actually says “ha ha,” two separate words, like a cartoon character. Clark can feel his jaw grinding. It’s a good thing his teeth are invulnerable. “The real key to making any relationship work is communication, you know?” Booster continues, oblivious to Clark’s torment. “It’s all about self-expression. Ted tells me I have a real talent for it, so if you’re feeling lost, you can just copy what I’m doing.” He nods down at Clark, beaming. “Another thing you two should try is talking about your love languages. Mr. Miracle gave me this book for Christmas, he said it really helped him and Big Barda, it’s called The Five Love Languages. And there are these quizzes you can take together– that’s more communication– that tell you what kind of love language you have. Mine is words of affirmation, and Ted’s is gifts. But we both also really like physical touch.” “I’d noticed,” Clark says, because it was impossible to be in a room with Ted and Booster and not know that they were having regular and passionate sex.

eta this fic is up now!

[z-iridest]

I Am Phoenix- A My Hero Academia fanfic

Chapter 17- Nightmare's Shadows:

When I woke up again, I found myself in a hospital room. I groaned as I sat up, pain shooting through me. "Try not to move around too much. You lost about 35% of your blood volume from the wound from your stomach and your leg combined, so we had to give you a transfusion." Well, that explains the difficulty breathing and the dizziness...

"How long was I out?" I asked the doctor.

"About 12 hours. After the adrenaline of what happened last night, your body went into hypovolemic shock."

"Probably around when I passed out last night. The last thing I remember is the Hero Killer challenging the pros that were there to a fight before he passed out himself. How're my friends?"

"The three boys? Well, since the fluids to help your body restore the blood and the transfusions are done, I can go- What're you doing?!" Tired of hearing him prattle on, I shoved off the blankets of the hospital bed and forced myself up. 

"Going to see my friends." I answered shortly before heading out to find their hospital room while the doctor tried to get me back in bed. 

"Goddamn it, Hino, can't you stay still for two seconds?!" I heard Ember walking toward me.

"They shouldn't have put me in a different room than my friends." I told her. Once I found their room, I opened the door.

"Hino, you're awake!" Izuku sounded relieved.

"They told us you needed a transfusion, shouldn't you be resting?!" Iida asked me, looking worried.

"I'm fine, I wanted to check on you guys." I sat down on the bed next to Iida's. Looking at them, I saw that Izuku's arm and leg were bandaged, Todoroki had bandages on his arm, but Iida had both arms bandaged and in a sling. "You know, thinking about that fight, we actually did something pretty amazing." I continued after a minute. Izuku nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, I agree." Todoroki replied. 

"After everything that happened back there, it kinda feels like a miracle that we're even alive. With my leg messed up, I was an easy target. He probably could have killed me if he really wanted to." Izuku pointed out.

"Yeah." Todoroki looked at his arm. "Seems to me, he let the three of us live on purpose. I'm impressed by you though, Iida. He was actually trying to murder you, but you stood tall." He turned his gaze to our class rep, who looked away.

"That's not true. I was-" Before Iida could say anything more, the door opened again, turning all of our attention to it.

"Oh, so the injured youngins are awake." He looked at me. "Hinotori, you should be in your own room resting." His voice was scolding.

"I just slept for 12 hours, I'm not going back to sleep anytime soon. Besides, I wanted to check on these guys." My answer made Gramps shake his head as he walked over to me.

"Gran Torino." Izuku smiled, but Iida looked ashamed when he saw Manual there as well. 

"And Manual, too..." He trailed off.

"Idiot." Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "I could yell at you and my granddaughter for hours right now." He walked over to Izuku.

"Yeah, I'm sorry..."

"But, before I do, you've got a visitor. And despite it being reckless, Hinotori, I do think you need to be in the room with them for this one. Makes things easier." I blinked, not knowing what Gramps was talking about until I saw who had joined us in the room. He was a very tall, sturdily built man with the head of a beagle. The area around his eyes and his ears were a dark brown, the two sides separated by a tan line which runs down his forehead, widening at his muzzle, which is flecked with pale brown. He had a large, black nose and dark eyes, and, although the rest of his body was of normal human shape, his skin appeared to be the same tan color as most of his face. He wore a suit, consisting of a dress shirt, and waistcoat, over which he wore an unbuttoned black blazer and matching dress pants underneath. He had a belt with a large buckle and a black and white tie that resembles a dalmatian’s coat. I slowly closed my eyes, knowing we were about to be in a crap load of trouble. "This is Hosu's chief of police, Kenji Tsuragame." Todoroki, Iida and I all stood in respect, Izuku moving to do the same, but Tsuragame spoke.

"No, please, stay seated, woof." He told us. Woof? "So, you four are the UA students who brought down the Hero Killer, huh?"

"Yes, sir." I answered.

"Stain has some serious injuries. Severe burns, and several broken bones. Right now, he's in the hospital under strict guard, woof. Here's a lesson you should have already learned. When Quirks became the norm, the police force sought to maintain the status quo. They decided we wouldn't use Quirks as weapons. That's when heroes came in. They could do what we couldn't, if they were licensed, of course, woof. It would be impossible for the police to condone the use of deadly Quirks. After all, we're here to stop such harm from being done. The only reason pros can use their powers now is because of the strict code of ethics that the early heroes chose to abide by."

"That's why you came all this way." I looked at my hands. "By fighting Stain and causing those injuries unlicensed, we broke the law."

"Whether you were up against the Hero Killer or not, none of you had the authority to harm the villain. That means the four of you, and your supervisors- Endeavor, Manual, Ember and Gran Torino- should receive harsh punishments for this gross abuse of your powers."

"Now, wait a minute! If Iida had not stepped in, Native would've been murdered." My head snapped up at Todoroki speaking up. He looked mad almost. "And if not for Yagi and Midoriya, both of them would be dead."

"Todoroki..." Iida quietly spoke. 

"No one else even realized that the Hero Killer was in Hosu. Are you saying we should have stood by and watched people die?!" He continued.

"Calm down." Midoriya tried to get Todoroki to cool down for a second.

"So, it's okay to break the law as long as it goes your way?" Tsuragame asked.

"But, sir, isn't it a hero's job to save people?" Todoroki countered. 

"This is why you're not a full fledged pro yet. It's obvious UA and Endeavor haven't been teaching you near enough. What a shame." He replied. An angry look crossed Todoroki's face.

"You damned mutt!"

"Todoroki!" Iida and I exclaimed at the same time, my stupid ass moving to stop him as he went to pass me, but feeling an intense pain as soon as I moved.

"Listen, he's right!" Iida continued, following him to stop him.

"Stop there, kid." Gramps moved in front of him, holding up his hand, which made him stop. "You'll wanna hear him out till the end."

"What I've said is the official stance of the police department. But, any punishment would only be necessary if this went public. If it did, you four would probably be applauded by citizens everywhere. But, there's no way you could escape from being reprimanded. On the other hand, we could say Endeavor saved the day. Stain's burns would support this story completely, and we could pretend you weren't even involved, woof. Thankfully, there were very few witnesses. This could be the last you heard of an punishments. It would mean no one would know about you, though. You'd receive no acclaim at all. The choice is yours. Personally, I know where I stand." He put a thumbs up. "I don't wanna damage any promising young careers. Not for a mistake like this."

"But, either way, we would still have to take responsibility for being negligent as supervisors." Manual put in. Iida walked up to Manual and bowed. 

"I'm sorry, I should have listened." He apologized. Manual chopped him on the head.

"Yeah! You caused us a lot of trouble. Remember that and don't do it again."

"Sir." Izuku bowed.

"And I apologize as well." He added. Todoroki and I both did as well.

"Me too, we'll leave it to you." I continued. 

"I know it's not fair. You won't enjoy any of the fame and praise you probably would have received otherwise. But at least, allow me as the chief of police, to thank you." Tsuragame bowed as well after we had straightened. 

"You know, you could have started with that..." Todoroki mumbled, making me shake my head. 

"Todoroki." Midoriya smiled a bit. My thoughts drifted to my Mom. I could just hear her, scolding every last one of us while doing what she could to help us heal, but expressing pride for us showing that we're true heroes through and through. But, thinking of Mom reminded me... Today was the anniversary of my Mom's death 9 years ago...

"Yagi? What's wrong?" I was brought out of my thoughts to see Todoroki and Iida looking worriedly at me. 

"It's nothing." I looked away from them. "I was just..."

"Thinking about your mom?" Iida asked.

"It was that obvious?" I looked at him. He didn't answer, only looking at me. I sighed softly. "Well, you're right. Today's officially 9 years since her passing."

"What happened?" Todoroki questioned.

"I don't know the full details, even after all this time... From what I was told, Mom was on patrol when she heard screaming coming from one of the back alleys. Thinking it was someone in trouble, she raced down it to help. But, when she got there, there was no one there... Except for a villain. Part of the villain's quirk allows him to sound like someone in trouble to lure victims to him. Just before he attacked, Mom got the feeling something was wrong and was able to block the first attack. They fought in that alley for a while, long enough for Mom to call for backup, but she ended up getting hurt, badly hurt. By the time Ember had found her, she had lost half of her blood and there was no sign of the villain that had attacked her anywhere. She was in a coma for a week, but after a week, her body finally gave out and she passed away in her sleep." I looked at Iida. "As you may have already guessed, Wendigo was the villain that caused those injuries." 

"Is that why you pushed me out of the way?" Iida asked. I nodded.

"Wanting to honor my Mom's legacy isn't the only reason I want to be a hero so bad." I looked at my hands. "I don't want what happened to me and my Mom to happen to anyone else again, not if I can do something about it..." I trailed off. Before Todoroki or Iida could answer, the door opened, Izuku coming back into the room. 

"Oh, hey, Iida, I just talked to Uraraka." Izuku told him.

"Midoriya." Todoroki got his attention. "Iida just got his test results back." Izuku turned to Iida, already worried.

"My left hand.. Might have damage that's permanent." Iida revealed to our friend, echoing what the doctor had told him. 

"What? Permanent?" Izuku asked.

"Both my arms were pretty torn up, but the injury to my left arm was especially severe, probably why Yagi's healing tears couldn't do much beside stop the bleeding. There was damage to my brachial plexus, which just means I'll have trouble moving my fingers, and my hands might have some numbness. Apparently, there's a chance it could be healed with nerve transplant surgery." He looked down. "When I came across the Hero Killer, I stopped thinking rationally. The first thing I should have done was call Manual. But, I got lost in my own anger. I hate him so much, but I can't deny he spoke the truth. That's why... Until I'm able to call myself a real hero, I'll leave my left hand as it is." Todoroki looked at him.

"Are you sure?" He asked. 

"Iida, I feel the same way. Let's get stronger. Together." Midoriya held out his clenched fist. 

"We all will." I smiled. Iida nodded in agreement. 

"I feel kind of bad." Todoroki spoke after a minute. 

"About what?" I asked. He was looking at his hand. 

"Whenever I'm involved, someone's hand gets all messed up. Is something wrong with me?" He asked. The other two boys looked just as confused as I felt. "Am I cursed?" 

"What?" I shook my head, a small laugh leaving me. "You're not cursed at all."

"Todoroki, I didn't know you had a sense of humor!" Izuku replied as he and Iida chuckled. 

"This isn't a joke, I'm like the Hand Crusher or something." Todoroki insisted, which only made the two boys laugh harder.

"You're not the Hand Crusher, Todoroki." I told him, despite my own giggles. Two days after the Hosu incident, the Hero Killer's identity and motives started being dissected from various angles. A 34 second video about Stain came out, though it was attempted to be taken down, it always popped back up at some point. The same day, Iida, Todoroki and I were released from the hospital, but due to his injuries, Midoriya had to stay a bit longer. The news channels and articles were full of the Hero Killer. The official story is that seven pros and four high school students came across the Hero Killer, then Endeavor rushed in and took care of the situation all by himself. The chief was true to his word, we were never named in connection to the Hero Killer, and our injuries were explained by accidents that happened during our internships. The same day Iida got his test results back, Iida went home to his parents' house so his Mom could take care of him. Todoroki's injures weren't all that bad, so he and I returned to our internships the same day. I continued patrols and training with Ember, and even got night combat training in with Aragami. By the end of the week, I was stronger with my flames, and faster with my wings. I bowed as I stood in the lobby with Ember on that final day. "Thank you for everything, Ember, and I'm so sorry I caused you so much trouble."

"Hino, I know you were trying to protect your friends, and you did just that. Your Mom would be proud of you, as much as she would have yelled at you for hours about breaking the law." That made me grimace. Mom had taught me to be a true hero, but, this definitely would have gotten me in trouble with her. "I want you to come back for your work studies when you have them. There'll always be a place for you here." I smiled at her offer, nodding.

"I will. Thank you, Ember." I thanked her. She nodded.

"Always... Phoenix." She replied before I left for the train to head back home...

"Hino! Are you okay?! What were you thinking taking him on?! You could have gotten yourself killed!" Not even three seconds after I walked in the door, Dad hounded me with questions.

"Don't you think that's a little hypocritical considering you would have done the exact same thing in my shoes?" I asked.

"That's not the point, Hinotori, I don't want to lose you!"

"You're not going to! This line of work is dangerous to begin with. You know that, I know that, and Mom-of all people- knew that! You, Mr Aizawa, Mom and now every hero in Ember's agency are training me to be a stronger hero, to be able to come out on top every time! I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere!" It was silent for a minute leaving me wondering why the hell Dad was so worried, so worked up over this.

"I know... I know you can handle yourself, Hinotori, and God, do I know you'd do anything to protect the people you love, just like I would, just like she did. But, please, I want you to be safe while you fight out there." He told me, his voice softer than a few seconds ago. "I worry, not just because you're my daughter, but because the last time something happened like this, I wasn't there to save the day like I was at the USJ... 9 years ago, I was patrolling, unaware of what was happening that night in Hosu. I even had a big plan to take your Mom out to dinner while the neighbors watched you, so I could finally tell her how I felt. But, then I got the call from Ember that something had happened to her. It turned into dropping you off at your friend's while I went to see her, because I didn't want the last memory of your mother to be a broken version of her that would never be able to say goodbye to you. My biggest regret, as a pro hero and a man, is not only not being there to save her, but not being able to tell her just how much she meant to me." That was when it finally hit me. Dad always thought about Mom, especially around the time of her death. My being away from him, even if it was just for internships that week, must have scared him shitless, not made better by the fact that I could have died from blood loss due to the same villain that had taken Mom and I had fought the Hero Killer while badly injured. I hugged my Dad, feeling him hug me tightly back.

"If things had been different, I probably would have, but... I wasn't alone in that fight, Dad. Todoroki, Iida and Midoriya... As stupid as they can act sometimes, they had my back the whole time. They didn't let me fight alone, and I don't think that's going to end anytime soon." I told him. He held me tighter. 

"I love you so much, Hinotori. More than you'll ever know and more than I could ever tell you." Dad told me. 

"I love you too, Dad." I replied as he pulled away slightly. We trained and ate dinner together as normal, but that night, I had the weirdest dream...

I couldn't tell exactly where I was. Darkness covered the space around me, and I couldn't see much of anything. I heard Wendigo's screeching, only to cry out as my old wounds suddenly reopened. But, when I looked at my blood, it was black. It covered my vision, and I couldn't breathe as I struggled against it. When I finally broke free, I was surrounded in a green light, tubes everywhere around me. There were countless Nomu in the tubes, but that wasn't what freaked me out so bad... I caught my reflection in one of the empty ones, but I didn't look right... My hair was snow white, a red streak in my hair that was now jaw length. My eyes, though... They were blood red. I backed up a few steps as my reflection came to life, smirking as her eyes glowed. Her fingers stiffened, and pain filled me as she took control of me, though I had no idea how this version of me had not only Bloodwork, but my own Quirk... I screamed in pain, feeling like my body was being pulled apart from four different directions. "You were meant to be just like me." She spoke with my voice, but something was wrong... Another voice, deep, suave almost, sounded over the top of mine. My clothes turned into a black version of my outfit with a red thorn pattern on it and she took over my body, forcing the real me out and to watch as she wreaked havoc on everything and everyone I ever cared about...

"NO!" I woke up with a scream, panting as I looked around wildly. I was in my room... No sign of the Nomus, no sign of that version of me that I had seen... I held my head in my hands. Whatever that was... It had felt too real. I checked on Dad. I didn't know how, but he was still sound asleep. He must have overworked himself again... I couldn't shake off the voice that had overlapped my own, though... Why did I feel like I'd heard that voice before? And why did that mirror image of me have my ex's Quirk? My head started to hurt, and I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Hino? You're up earlier than usual." I looked up to see Dad at the bottom of the stairs. "Is everything okay?" I know what you're about to say... You told him, right?! Well...

"I'm fine, just a bad dream's all." I gave a sheepish smile. Dad looked at me for a minute. "Seriously, Dad, I'm fine." I insisted. Okay, yeah, I should have told him, but it was only going to freak him out more if I did! Dad kept pressing me, but I kept dodging and avoiding the question. I managed to avoid it until I got to class, taking a deep breath as I sat at my desk. I couldn't avoid the questions from Dad for long, but I didn't know how long I could avoid answering him for...  Not long after I had arrived, Kirishima and Sero were howling with laughter.

"HOLY CRAP! WHAT THE HECK, BAKUGO?!" They asked at the same time. I just about lost it myself when I looked over at him. Instead of his usual spiky hair, it had been combed over to one side and smoothed down. Bakugo looked about ready to kill them.

"Stop laughing... My hair's gotten used to this and I can't get it back the right way. Did you not hear me? I'll kill you both!"

"I'd like to see you try, pretty boy!" Sero's comment made me snort.

"WHAT'D YOU CALL ME?!" With his yell, Bakugo's hair exploded back to normal, which honestly made the whole damn thing funnier. Leave it to those boys to take my mind off things... 

"How was your week, Ochaco?" Tsu asked, but the vibe coming off our friend was... Well... Intense. 

"I'd say that it was... very enlightening." She replied before doing punches.

"I think she found her fighting spirit..." Tsu trailed off.

"Yeah, that battle hero must've been something else." Jirou commented.

"After one week, she's a totally different person." Kaminari put in. 

"Different? Don't be fooled, Kaminari... All women are demons at heart.. They just hide their true personalities behind pretty faces" Mineta looked scared.

"Remember that the next time you want to be a perv." I told him. 

"What the heck did Mount Lady do to you?" Kaminari asked him. "Everyone at my internship loved me, it was actually kinda great. Now, if you wanna talk about the ones who've changed, it was those four." He nodded toward me, Iida, Todoroki and Midoriya. 

"Oh yeah, the Hero Killer!" When I looked over at Sero and Kirishima, I saw that Bakugo was basically holding them by their shirt collars.

"Glad to see you guys made it back alive. Seriously." Kirishima told us.

"I worried about you, too." Yayorozu told us.

"You were lucky Endeavor showed up and saved you guys." Sato replied. Oh man, I wanted to tell them the truth so bad...

"So cool!" Hagakure added. "Just what I'd expect from the number two hero." He can't hold a candle to my Dad still. I thought. Todoroki looked down.

"Yeah, that's right. He saved us." Todoroki spoke.

"Did you guys hear the news about the Hero Killer?" We looked at Ojiro. What did he mean? "Everyone's been saying that he was somehow connected to the League of Villains. Can you imagine how frightening it would've been if that creep had been there when they attacked the USJ?" He didn't seem like the type to join up with them, they probably extended an invitation to him or something, but... I don't know... Stain works in the shadows while Shigaraki prefers to blast his message. It's not a viable alliance when two people have separate ideas on how to go about things. Then again... The timing on the Nomus and Stain's attacks on the pros seem to be too convenient to be a coincidence. Is it possible they agreed to provide the distraction for him so he could go uninterrupted?

"Kaminari!" Izuku exclaimed, bringing me out of my thought ramble.

"Uh- Oh! Dude!" Kaminari covered his mouth.

"No, it's okay. You're fine." Iida replied. "It is true, he is quite a tenacious villain. I understand why people might think he was cool. But, instead of helping the world, his beliefs led him to cold-blooded murder. No matter his motives, killing cannot be condoned. To keep anyone else from suffering like me, well, I promise: I will strive to be the perfect hero." There's our class rep...

"Yeah, let's do it!" Izuku added.

"It's time for class to begin! Please, everyone take your seats!"

"He's back." Tokoyami grumbled.

"This is your fault for talking about weird stuff." Jirou shot a pointed look at Kaminari, who almost looked like a sad puppy at that point.

"Sorry... I'm gonna keep my mouth shut." Kaminari promised. A few hours later, we met up with Dad in his hero form.

"I am here! Hope you're ready to return to our lessons. Today it's Hero Basic Training! Feels like I haven't seen you in a while. Welcome back!" I mean, technically it's been a week... I thought, but kept my mouth shut. "Now then, listen carefully for what's in store. We're going to be conducting a little race." I instantly looked at Bakugo, smirking when he looked my way, remembering the last time we had done a competition against each other. Take everything you learned from your internships and apply it to this rescue training." Iida's hand popped up and when I glanced over, I noticed Izuku looked like a rabid fanboy again. Seriously, after a little over a year now he still wasn't used to Dad being around him?

"If it's rescue training, then shouldn't we be at the USJ instead?" Iida asked.

"Ah, that facility specializes in disasters. As I said earlier, this is a race. So prepare. You're about to step into Field Gamma! Inside is an area full of factories that form an intricate labyrinth, so good luck finding your way around. You'll be competing in groups of five. Each person starts from a different location on the outskirts of the model city. I'll send a distress signal, and you must do what you must to rescue me. Whoever finds me first wins!" I smirked, leaning into Bakugo from behind.

"Bet I'll be faster than you." I taunted, making him pissed off.

"But try to keep the property damage to a bare minimum, please." Dad looked and pointed at Bakugo.

"Why are you pointing at me?" Bakugo asked.

"Maybe because you blew up the last mock city we were in." I reminded him, making him glare at me. "Hey, you asked the question."

"All right. First group, get to your places." All Might told us. The first group consisted of Ojiro, Midoriya, Iida, Sero and Mina.

"Wait, Iida hasn't completely recovered yet, right? He should sit this one out." Kaminari said, sounding worried about our class rep. 

"Man, everyone in this group had really good mobility." Kirishima commented.

"Huh... I'd say Midoriya is at a heavy disadvantage against those four." Yayorozu replied.

"That's what I think. Moving around quickly isn't really one of his strong suits, that's for sure." Jirou agreed. Boy, are they in for a surprise... I thought, remembering that Todoroki, Iida and myself were the only ones in our class aware of the progress Izuku had made during the week of our internships.

"And whenever he uses his powers, he always gets badly injured." Yayorozu pointed out.

"Who's your pick? I'm bettin' on Sero." Kirishima spoke up. 

"Oh yeah? I got odds on Ojiro." Kaminari countered.

"I choose Ashido." Mineta piped up. "'Cause she's got a super athletic body."

"I know Deku will be last." Bakugo replied.

"Even if he's still recovering, I think Iida's got this one." Ochaco put her bet in, Tsu nodding in agreement.

"Is everyone ready? Begin!" Dad called, the rest of us watching the race on the monitor. 

"Lookit him go! In a maze like this, it makes sense to be above everything else!" Kirishima exclaimed as he watched Sero. 

"So, that means Sero's at an advantage because he can take to the sky." Shouji observed. Why do I get the feeling that they're gonna say the same thing about me? I thought. But, just as I thought, Izuku blurred past Sero, moving quick. I snuck a glance at Bakugo, who was slack jawed for a quick second before he glared. The look on his face said it all.

"Whoa, Midoriya?!" Mineta and Kirishima exclaimed in confusion.

"Since when can he do that?" Kaminari asked.

"From what he told me, it was part of his training at his internship." I answered. 

"Crazy, those jumps... He looks just like..." Ochaco was standing in amazement, and Bakugo looked more pissed than ever. Izuku was looking like he might be the winner... Until one misstep threw everything off. I grimaced as I watched him go down. Dammit... Sero ended up winning in the end, and I was in the next group... Against Bakugo, Tokoyami, Kirishima and Kaminari. Funny enough, I was starting from the same place Midoriya did. I stretched out my wings and my arms. It made more sense to use my wings than my flames... After a bit of a shake off, I got into a ready stance before Dad hit the button to start it. I got a running start, flipping into the air and using my wings to shoot forward. I did have a little fun with it, showing off a bit as I landed, tucking my wings away to run through tight spaces before jumping into the air again and flying upward. When I caught sight of Dad, I tucked my wings into my back, back flipping and turning in the air to land in a squat, beating Bakugo by a couple seconds. 

"Wow, I was showing off on purpose and you're still slower." I teased him as I stood to full height.

"Shut up!" He yelled, as I cackled.

"And it's over! Thanks, hero, and congratulations!" Dad gave me the winner's sash. "Young Yagi might have come in first, but compared to the start of the year, you all have showed me some incredible improvements. Keep working and preparing for your upcoming final exams!"

"Sir!" We all responded before Dad called the next group. Before I could leave the field, he spoke.

"Find me after class with Young Midoriya. The three of us have something to talk about. It's time I told the two of you the whole truth... About me, and One For All." He told me. I nodded before leaving the field with everyone else. In the locker rooms, we changed into our uniforms. 

"Rockstar of the day, totally Hinotori." Hagakure gushed.

"Agreed. Hino, you're amazing." Yayorozu added while I was trying to not turn redder than my hair. 

"Guys, quit it!" My whine made them giggle. "Most of my training since I was a kid's been around my wings, which is why I'm so fast. If anything, I shouldn't be focusing on one aspect of my Quirk for mobility... I need to work on being faster while using my flames too." I was going into self critique mode, not knowing just how badly those words would come back to bite me in the future...

"Hino, stop, just accept the compliment already." Ochaco told me.

"Yeah, seriously, give yourself some more credit, girl!" Mina added.

"You should listen to them, ribbit." Tsu chimed in. We all froze at the sound of Iida's voice coming from the other locker room. 

"Don't even think about it! Peeping on them like that would be criminal!" No sooner than those words had left Iida's mouth, I noticed the hole, gasping.

"Guys!" I pointed at it, the ones who weren't dressed covering up.

"Got it!" Jirou plugged it with her earphone jack, and a yelp told us all that the little creep in our class had been about to look through it. She suddenly looked distressed, and I wondered what the actual hell she had heard.

"Uggh. Thanks, Kyoka." Hagakure told her.

"Despicable. We'll close this hole up immediately." Yayorozu chimed in. I gently touched Jirou's shoulder.

"Hey, whatever that creep was saying, ignore him." I told her. Once we were finished and school was over, Izuku and I looked for Dad in the teacher's lounge. Izuku knocked.

"It's us, All Might." When we entered, Dad looked grim. It made me pause.

"Dad?" I questioned as I closed the door behind us.

"Come have a seat." His hands were folded in his lap, and I saw a picture that looked familiar. Dad always kept a picture of Mom and him as teens with him, it was always folded neatly and kept in the inner pocket of his suit coat, the one near his heart. "You both went through a lot recently. I'm sorry I wasn't around to help you out."

"Dad..."

"You don't need to apologize for that. More importantly... Um... You mentioned One For All earlier."

"I heard that the Hero Killer swallowed your blood in the attack." Dad pointed out.

"Yeah, his Quirk made him able to paralyze someone after tasting their blood. Is that what this is about?" He asked. That was when I realized.

"Wait a second, I thought the passing of One For All only worked if he was willing to pass it to someone else." I told Dad. I should have kept my mouth shut, because Midoriya jumped out of his seat.

"Holy crap! Don't tell me the Hero Killer has One For All now?!" He shrieked.

"No, he doesn't. I just thought you might be worried about that, but... I see it didn't cross your mind." I leaned back in my seat.

"Nice job giving us a heart attack, Dad..." I mumbled under my breath. 

"But, you are right though, Hino... One For All can only be given to another person if you, the bearer, intend to pass it along. It's not something that can just be taken by force. Although it can be transferred by force... Kinda like a girl you don't really like telling you that you have to take the chocolates she made for you."

"What kind of example is that?!" Izuku and I asked at the same time.

"The Quirk you now have is unique, and you should know its origin." Dad looked at me. "Both of you should know. One for All was derived from another odd Quirk, a power that's very old."

"It used to be something different?" Izuku asked. Dad nodded.

"The name of that Quirk is All For One. It allowed its user to take Quirks from others. Then, the user could keep the Quirks for himself or give them to someone else." 

"What? You mean... He could steal powers?" Izuku asked, and quite frankly, I felt the same way he did.

"This was back when Quirks were just starting to show up. Before society had figured out how to deal with the newly powered among them. When Quirks first appeared, suddenly impossible to say what it meant to be a normal person. Laws and human rights were hotly debated. Civilization's progress stalled, society decayed."

"If superpowers had never appeared, then humans would be taking interstellar holidays by this point." I spoke up this time. "I remember hearing that from someone famous."

"I did too." Izuku replied. 

"Right. During that chaotic period of change, there was one person who managed to rally many people together. He went by the name of his power, All For One." A cold shudder went down my spine. "He stole quirks from others and then, with his overwhelming abilities, he spread his influence across the country. He manipulated people to serve his purposes, and committed evil acts with little resistance. In the blink of an eye, he became the leader of villains and ruled over Japan."

"I've seen plenty of rumors about this online, sure, but isn't that all just made up?" Izuku asked. "It's not mentioned in our textbooks."

"Probably because no one wants to be reminded of the mistakes made during that time." I answered, glancing at my friend.

"Exactly, it's the kind of shameful history people would rather ignore. Anyway, when a person gains true power, they enjoy showing it off to others."

"How does this all tie together though, Dad?" I asked. For once, I couldn't put the pieces together. 

"And what about One For All?" Izuku questioned as well.

"I said the All For One could give Quirks to others, remember? He made people trust him or submit to his will by altering their abilities. But apparently, there were many poor souls who couldn't bear the burden of the Quirks they were given. They became like mindless, living dolls, incapable of speaking..."

"Just like the Nomus are." I realized, putting a hand over my mouth. Dad nodded.

"Meanwhile, some Quirks actually evolved as they were passed on, some even combined with other power sets. This evil man had a Quirkless younger brother. He was small and sickly, but he had a strong sense of justice. They couldn't have been more different. It pained the brother to see All For One's deeds, so he kept resisting him. And then, All For One transferred a Quirk to his sibling, one that would allow him to stockpile power. We don't know if it was a gift he was giving his brother, or if he just wanted to force him to submit." I realized what that meant.

"Don't tell me..." Izuku trailed off.

"Yes, even though everyone thought he was Quirkless, turns out, the brother did have a Quirk. Though, even he hadn't realized this to be the case. He had a useless power that only allowed him to pass on Quirks. And so, the stockpiling ability merged with the younger brother's power, and that is how One For All came to be. I've always found it ironic that justice so often spawns from evil."

"Wait, hold on! I understand how One For All came about now, but this bad guy must be long dead at this point, so why are you bringing him up?" I looked at Dad at Izuku's question. The grim look on his face...

"One who steals Quirks has no limits. Anything's possible. There are Quirks that halt aging, he probably has something like that. The Symbol of Evil seemed pretty much immortal. With the state of the world at the time, and the huge difference in their combat abilities, the younger brother decided to entrust this new Quirk to future generations. Even though he couldn't defeat All For One, he hoped One For All would continue to grow in power, until it was strong enough to stop his older brother. Eventually, it was my turn, and I managed to defeat All For One! At least... That's what I thought. But, he survived and is now back in action as the brain behind the League of Villains." Dad got up and walked over to the window. "So, now you know. The entire purpose of One For All is to defeat All For One. As its holder, you may one day have to fight against this great evil yourself. Because I failed. I know you didn't expect this, but..."

"I'll do my best!" Izuku jumped out of his seat again. "I'll do whatever you ask. No matter what it might take. As long as you're with me, I can do anything! I know you'll have my back!" The look that crossed my Dad's face was one I'll never forget. Like he was holding something back, but couldn't say it for fear of hurting my friend. He hesitated for a few minutes, covering his mouth with his hand for a few seconds before opening his mouth. After a second though, he closed it, dropping his hand.

"Thank you." He replied. As Izuku and I left the school, I got a bad feeling rising in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't explain why... But, I felt like something was going to happen to Dad.

"Well, it's almost time for summer vacation. Don't get too excited, you can't just relax an entire month." Aizawa was telling us a few weeks later.

"Does that mean..."

"You'll be training... While you're camping in the woods."

"I KNEW IT, ALL RIGHT!" Kaminari and Kirishima exclaimed. 

"A big sleepover!"

"Baths!"

"Fireworks!"

"Springs!"

"And s'mores."

"Skinny dipping!" For each fun idea our classmates came up with, Mineta had a perverted idea. He's just lucky I was too far away to smack him...

"We've been training in cities, so these will be very different conditions for most of us." Yayorozu mused.

"No matter the environment, we must always remain vigilant. Yes. Very wise." Tokoyami was saying.

"Hanging out with everyone all summer, I'm so excited!" Hagakure squealed. 

"However, those of you who don't pass the final exam before the semester is over will have summer school." Aizawa continued.

"Everyone, do your best!" Kirishima and Kaminari turned to face everyone. 

"This is so stupid." Bakugo mumbled. God, I wanted to throw something at him...

"All you girls better pass this thing!" I rolled my eyes at Mineta.

"Wouldn't be such a bad thing for you to fail..." I mumbled under my breath. My mind wandered to Mom, part of me wondering what a class with her would be like. Not that we would ever find out...

I studied as hard as I could during the days that followed, memorizing everything we had learned up to that point. While studying, I made the mistake of using a special on a TV show called Live Till After Noon! as background noise for studying. "Welcome back to our live show! For our next topic: Is it really necessary for heroes to dress sexily? Let's ask our very special studio guests what they think. She's the rookie hero who debuted just this year. It's Mount Lady! And she's a pro who's currently teaching at UA high school; it's the incomparable Midnight!" The host announced. A debate with those two? Oh boy... "Thank you so much for joining us!" I bet everyone in that studio was blushing with those two there... "Please, have a seat. Let's start with you, Midnight. When you first debuted, your revealing outfit caused quite a stir. In fact, it eventually led to the Regulations for Exposed Skin in Costumes bill being taken before the legislature. You're a hero who's sexiness changed the very laws of the country."

"Her costume's still pretty racy..." Mount Lady trailed off in a sing song voice.

"Now, I rely on Ultra Thin fabrics. Because of the nature of some people's Quirks, clothing can restrict their abilities, sexiness isn't just an aesthetic, it's sometimes needed so we can do our jobs well. Besides, what's more attractive than a hero who get the job done quickly." Midnight answered the question. That was about when the peace in that studio went out the window with Mount Lady's next words.

"I think you just like the attention." She did not just disrespect Midnight like that...

"What's with you, Lady? Are you trying to start a fight?"

"Of course not, I look up to you! I think you're amazing... For someone of your age."

"You can act like the blushing ingenue all you want, but you're not that young yourself, ya know!" Midnight was out of her chair at this point. 

"All I'm saying is if the older pros try too hard, the rest of us have to go even further!" Mount Lady got up too and a fight ensued, causing me to shut it off.

"Geeze, those two were going at it pretty hard." Dad commented. I glanced up.

"I was just thinking that." I told him before we exchanged a smile. 

"So, I got an email from Melissa today... You want to tell me what's going on?" He questioned. I bit my lip, trying to hide a smile. "Hino..."

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" It came out as more of a question, making my Dad more suspicious. "What did she even say?" I asked.

"That she missed me and you and her were planning a special surprise for this year's I-Expo." He answered, making me unable to hold back my giggles anymore. 

"You'll have to wait until I-Expo to find out!" I managed to get out. Dad shook his head as he pulled me into a bear hug.

"What on Earth am I gonna do with you, Hinotori Yagi?" He asked me with a smile, causing me to smile back. 

(Taglist: @iheartbarbie @qweenexplosionmurder13 )

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[prolaterian]

8 - Manhunt 1 | Absurdist Phone Guy Stuffed in a Suit

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49318093

Fritz Smith

“This is getting nowhere”, Jeremy exclaimed, his exasperation diminishing ever-so-slightly after arriving home. They (Jeremy, really, as Fritz couldn’t quite leave the house) had been searching for clues that might lead them toward William. Jeremy had asked around William’s whereabouts, hoping that some of the day staff at Freddy’s could yield answers, but all he found were shrugs and looks of confusion. It seemed no one was so much as acquaintances with William.

Fritz was no better off, his present condition leaving him an involuntary shut-in. It wasn’t as though there was nothing to occupy himself with in Jeremy’s house, but it all felt like busy work. The boredom was dreadful, and it put a sour taste in his mouth every time it brought back memories of the warehouse. He needed to do something. If he had to spend even a few more days stuck inside, he’d go crazy.

Whenever he could, Fritz occupied himself with cooking, the one thing he could do that was actually helpful. If there were any benefits to his animatronic form, it was that he had no need for oven mitts, but that small silver lining was far outweighed by the fact that he couldn’t actually eat any of the food he made.

He was in the middle of searing a chicken breast, which he swiftly learned to handle with paper towels after a particularly slimy encounter, when Jeremy arrived. Fritz shared his plight – it’d only been a day, but he was dying to get their investigation underway.

“Hey Fritz, what’s that smell?” Jeremy asked, stepping into the kitchen and visually flinching at the sight of an animatronic manning his stove before composing himself, thankful that Fritz was facing away.

“I figured I’d make something. I’m going a bit crazy with boredom.” Fritz replied, scooping the chicken onto a plate and setting it down on a small table. “Enjoy!”

“Uh, thanks”, Jeremy replied, looking down at the moderately-charred chicken. “You sure this isn’t poison?”

Fritz gave no reply, and Jeremy went on share his attempts at information gathering, picking-at but not eating his food.

“I asked pretty much everyone that worked there during my shift, but not a goddamn person had any idea about- OH FUCK ME, Fritz! The heat kills the germs in the chicken, you didn’t have to dehydrate it as well!”

Fritz gave him a wry smile. “I never claimed to a be chef.”

“Oh whatever,” Jeremy continued, still eating the chicken, “the point is that unless we manage a miracle, we’re basically shit out of luck. No one seems to really know who William is, which I guess makes sense since I haven’t seen a news report on haunted animatronics. The dude definitely kept to himself and kept a tight wrap on info surrounding him.”

Fritz considered this, letting out a sigh in the process. If Jeremy had no ideas, he definitely didn’t. He wracked his brain for everything he knew about the animatronics piloting William’s body, but was interrupted by a voice he hadn’t heard all day.

Let me talk!

Fritz relented, giving the rabbit control over his voice box.

“The pizzeria, dummies!” Bon-Bon exclaimed. “That’s the only place they know. Freddy always dreamt of ‘doing real performances’ in the outside world, and William will want to get more souls for his experiments there.”

Jeremy frowned, looking at Fritz with confusion. Fritz felt the same way, although he wasn’t quite sure where to look.

“What do you mean ‘get more souls’?” Jeremy inquired.

“You think William is still alive, even with those animatronics inside of him?” Fritz asked at the same time.

“Of course not, silly! His body’s probably rotting away, but his soul’s still in there. He definitely won’t be too happy about that though, so he’ll probably grab a few kids from the pizzeria again to try to fix himself.”

Dread filled the room at Bon-Bon’s words, Fritz and Jeremy making eye contact.

“Wha- What do you mean, Bon-Bon? William saved my life, he’d never do something like that!” Fritz exclaimed, horror filling his face. This gave him pause, his mind lingering back to his time with William, before realization dawned on him. “Wait, that’s not really true, is it? All he did was stick me into this shitty suit and lock me underground. Fuck, it’s better than that warehouse, but that’s no comparison.”

“I’m not sure why you guys are so surprised. How do you think he learned so much about souls?” Bon-Bon asked, his usually-upbeat demeanor breaking away into bewilderment.

Fritz felt the puzzle pieces locking together in his head. His time in the warehouse had clearly clouded his judgment. Just as he began to realize the implications of what Bon-Bon was saying, Jeremy put all of his concerns into words.

“Shit, Fritz, I don’t know if we can do this. We can rough up a couple machines no problem, but we have no idea what that guy’s capable of.” He let out a sigh, before continuing. “But, I’m not quitting. If Bon’s telling the truth, then this is much, much worse than we thought, and I really don’t like the idea of William being free.”

“Fuck it,” Jeremy continued, “let’s check it out tomorrow night. Not quite how I envisioned my Friday going, and my boss won’t be too happy, but it’s not like we have anything to lose!”

“Besides”, he added, “I never noticed anything weird during the day, so it’s probably safe.”

Jeremy stood up to put his plate away, while Fritz was still processing his words.

“NO!” Fritz exclaimed suddenly. He’d been distracted by what Bon-Bon brought up, but he realized the idea of returning made him sick.

“I died in that place, Jeremy! Half my bones shattered when they shoved me in that damn suit. I’m not going back!”

Jeremy grimaced, the previous excitement quickly draining out of his face. “Well, I suppose I could go alone.”

“No, those things will tear you to shreds! Look Jeremy, I can come. My body’s made of metal,” he punched his arm for added effect, “and I- I shouldn’t be afraid of some damn building. I’m- it’s just-”

“It’s alright Fritz, we don’t have to go inside. Let’s just scope the place out, look through the windows, and see if anything’s wrong, alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Right, well I’m off to bed. See if you can figure some of that soul magic out.” Jeremy waved, walking over to his bedroom. “Oh, and please don’t make breakfast!” He shouted, before closing the door.

……

Fritz sat in silence, trying to figure out any clues to his current predicament. It wasn’t as though he could leave the suit – he was dead, after all, and as much as he despised being a robotic fox, he didn’t want to die. Even so, there must be something that could help him now, right?

Bon-Bon had been no help either, as the bunny’s knowledge didn’t seem to include how souls worked, just that they existed and could be shoved into animatronic suits, which really wasn’t helpful to him right now.

He thought back to what Bon-Bon had said about William. He really didn’t want to believe the rabbit – William really had rescued him – but he couldn’t discount the fact that William undoubtedly experimented with human souls, and it made him sick imagining where those souls had come from. Fritz let out a chuckle, realizing that all signs pointed to him being another experiment. Despite that, their goals were unchanged. They’d still track William down, alive or not, perhaps with a bit more urgency with the knowledge of what he might do given the option.

The thought of finding some way to improve his condition still nagged at him, and Fritz decided to take Jeremy up on his suggestion and learn more about his “soul magic”. Like before, he focused inward, seeing-without-seeing everything that his soul touched. Before, he focused on the minute details, but after all his training he understood it well enough to focus on the big picture.

Fritz gazed out, and what he saw astonished him. He’d seen his insides with Jeremy’s camcorder, but the ‘soul bits’ and the ‘machine bits’ were nearly indistinguishable on film. This was something completely different.

He could see everything his soul was bound to in perfect clarity. It looked like a raging fire, or a highway, or a waterfall. Fritz found it nearly impossible to think about, much less describe. He recognized the familiar metal maze, highlighted by torrents that felt like color but different, the sight before him exhibiting an infinite array of different hues that he somehow perfectly understood. The not-colors seemed to race down the tracks of the grid, stopping at every intersection to avoid a collision, although he couldn’t find any discernible pattern to how the “traffic” organized itself – the waves of colors seemed to simply know what to do. Strangely, each time one of these waves stopped at one of these intersection, little drops of color seemed to bleed off of it and form clouds in the surrounding air. Fritz felt incredibly overwhelmed, yet he couldn’t look away.

The first thing he tried was to control one of the color waves. Fritz imagined it stopping, which, as expected, did absolutely nothing. He tried speeding them up and slowing them down, to no avail. In a burst of enlightenment, he focused on changing the color of a wave, and stood transfixed as it slowed to a stop, simultaneously cycling through every hue that ever was from then until the end of time, all compressed down to a single moment.

Fritz shook his head, the confusion dissipating but suddenly replaced by a fiery pain as another wave smashed into the one he had stopped, both exploding into a massive cloud of shifting hues. He only caught a glimpse before being rocketed back into the real-world, the pain making itself known through a series of growls and snarls.

When the pain finally dissipated, Fritz felt a buzzing at the edge of his mind and realized that a familiar hand puppet was trying to reach him.

Are you okay, night guard?Bon-Bon asked, a tinge of worry in his voice.

“Haha, yeah. I uh, learned how to give myself a nasty headache on-demand. I know a bit more about my soul now. I think.”

Oh?

“I was able to create this weird sort of energy, but it hurt like hell and I don’t know if it’s useful for anything.”

Energy? I remember William rambled about that once or twice. He wanted to make his robots blend in, “the perfect killing machine” or something like that. I don’t really care about it, but maybe that’s something you can do.

Fritz pondered the rabbit’s words, a little taken aback. If he could blend in, that would solve all his problems! Heh, well, the biggest one, at least. He didn’t like the idea of a “perfect killing machine”, but that was probably more of a William thing than a soul energy thing. Hopefully.

“Thanks Bon-Bon. Maybe this is worth looking into after all.”

With that, he took another plunge into his soul. This night would be painful, but if he was lucky, it might just bear fruit.

……

Notes

William is officially the bad guy. Yay!

Next Chapter

[demcnsinmymind]

walriding​:

      A barely concealed snort was the response to Preston’s initial request for more concrete proof than just hearsay. Evidence. He wanted evidence. Ironic, for someone who built his reputation on what Miles had deemed to be bullshit television – the kind of thing he’d laugh at late at night with a beer in hand when there was nothing more compelling on any other channel. Ghost hunting seemed about as real to Miles as pro wrestling. Entertainment and nothing else, no different from a horror movie. You could turn it off and easily assure yourself that none of it was real.

      There was some measure of satisfaction to be found in the slowly sinking features of the other man’s face. Gone was the bravado, the cocky façade Miles had seen in the mirror too many times to be fooled by when someone else was wearing it. Now they were getting to the meat of the issue without further pretense. 

      Rage – real, genuine, boiling rage – was a difficult emotion to fake. Anger was too unpredictable, too hot and irrational, to play at with no real passion. Nothing about Preston suggested that his reaction was anything less than true. Equally reassuring was the notion that the other man wasn’t willing to back down from the fight, either. A few years ago commitment like that might have scared Miles. Though he prided himself on the lengths he would go to for a story, even he had his limits – but Murkoff changed all that. Just getting the truth out there wasn’t enough anymore. It had never really been enough, had it? No, the only way to make any kind of difference against people who hurt others was to hurt them right back, because that was the only kind of retribution they understood. The only kind of retribution that let Miles feel like he was actually fucking doing something.

      “No, they didn’t. But what happened to you seemed too close to what happened to me to be a coincidence – I just connected the dots.” Perhaps it was nothing more than desperation, a blind hope that someone out there might possibly understand what Miles had gone through even if their circumstances had no real ties. But he couldn’t let such a startling stone go unturned no matter how distantly related it might have been. “Murkoff had – has – other facilities, other connections I haven’t untangled yet. Might not be anything between us beyond shit fucking luck, but I can’t write off any possibilities.”

“Smart man. Connecting all the dots” Lance replied, and he himself didn’t even know if he really meant it, if he was being sarcastic, or even jealous. It was just a statement that needed an out. Because now that he thought about it...despite his big speech just moments ago, up until now, he’d never done anything similar. Ever since he got out. Hadn’t gone looking. Researching. Reaching out to people to try and make sense of everything. Seek that sweet revenge he’d just talked about.

Instead of connecting any dots, researching...he’d been on the run. Running running running and trying to stay away from it all. It was a goddamn miracle he’d even answered Upshore’s mails, that he was sitting across from him right now. He’d meant what he’d said before. But still. The more the other kept talking, the more bitter he felt.

He used to be so good at being all calculated. Just like his opposite. Researching. Planning. Willing a way and solution. He still wanted that. Was going to try. But....fuck. It was hard. Because despite all the anger. Despite all the bravado, all the distance and coldness he displayed on the outside. Deep inside he still was one thing first. Scared. And how the fuck could he not be. Given what he’d been through. What he’d seen. And that had been back in the 40s. Now he knew that all of this was way bigger. Way more advanced. In this modern day. Who knew what this Murkoff cooperation had up its sleeve.

They were just two guys.

Possessed by some fucked up shit and both stubborn as hell. But still. Two against who knew what else was out there.

Soon enough though, all these ideas left him curious. Wondering. Just what exactly they had up their sleeves to deal with their problems and plans.

“That thing they conjured up. That they couldn’t control” Lance began, eying Miles a little differently this time. Almost as if looking past him. Seeking something else. Takes a walking haunted house to know one after all.

“Can you control it? Can it do the same shit mine can? Messing with time, space, the whole shtick?”

[keeryparadise]

Hands All Over Each Other || S.H.

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: You and your alluring neighbor Steve live on the same apartment floor. You’ve been dying to get a moment alone with him, and when you both get trapped in an elevator together, you feel more excited than scared. Barely ten minutes pass, and before you know it, your hands are all over each other.

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 2.1k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: Cliche plot asf, mention of sexual/steamy content, kissing/making out, hickies, y/n definitely has a hand kink, y/n is a pervy stalker, y/n wants to shower with steve, hand sex?? /j

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Nervous/awkward/embarrassed Steve, dom!Steve, hand massage, wayy too much hand talk, too much fluff, the most palpable tension ever created.

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: No

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an honest accident, or maybe a miracle from God. Yeah, definitely a miracle from God. You think.

Just seconds ago, you stood fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for the elevator to come. Now you stand in the corner of said elevator, knowing those doors won’t be opening again for a long time. And God, are you so glad that the doors won’t be opening anytime soon, forcing you to be stuck alone with your next-door neighbor Steve.

You’ve been practically drooling over Steve Harrington since he moved in next door to you a few months ago. You’ve only talked to him once when he came to your door to introduce himself. But you’ve seen him a lot.

You memorized his schedule: you hear his alarm ring every morning at 7:30. He takes 20 minutes to get ready and leaves at eight to get coffee. Sometimes you follow him. He works until five in the evening and watches TV for the rest of the day. He then showers at ten and goes to bed when he’s finished.

Sometimes you like to imagine him in the shower. Skin slick with water, his hair wet and dripping beads down his toned skin. Those goddamn hands, combing soap through his hair. Eyes closed, facing warm water, goosebumps forming on his neck from heat. The steam fogging up his mirror, surrounding his entire body. Deep breaths as he struggles to breathe in the thick, steamy air.

Sorry. What were we talking about?

He gets his mail every Sunday, around 11. Today you decided to follow him, maybe, strike up a conversation in the elevator. If you’re lucky, you want to try to make your fantasies a reality.

Oh God, were you happy when the elevator came to a sudden halt on the third floor, not moving, not opening its doors.

You and Steve give each other worried looks when the doors don’t open for much too long to be considered normal. His eyebrows raise, pulling together as he nervously steps forward.

“I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” he spoke with an uneasy smile.

You nod, “Yeah, definitely not.”

He steps over to the panel of buttons and pushes the ‘open door’ button. For a moment, he stands impatient, awaiting a response.

Nothing.

He spams the button repeatedly with his thumb, practically banging on the panel at one point. He gives up with a frustrated punch and an irritated sigh.

“Well,” he starts, “I guess we’re stuck here.” He pushes himself up against the wall, his head leaning back, as he slides down the wall to sit.

“Yep,” you reply, mirroring his actions. You sit in front of each other, cross-legged. He doesn’t make eye contact.

He sighs, “Nothing to do but wait, I guess.”

You quirk your head slightly, “That’s not entirely true,” you insist, “who knows how long we’ll be here, might as well get to know each other. We’re neighbors, after all.”

He gives you a slow nod and makes eye contact for a brief instant. You never noticed it before, but his eyes were brown.

He gives you a low sigh before speaking, “So, where were you off to before this?”

Following you, actually.

“Getting the mail.”

Steve lets out a low chuckle, his posture hunching slightly, “Me too.” He smiles at you.

I know.

“Oh,” you try to sound surprised, “What a coincidence then!”

He refrains from making eye contact still and instead stares at a big, yellow stain on the floor. It’s flattering that he prefers that over you!

Steve’s hands lay awkwardly in his lap, visibly clammy. You’ve never had the chance to get such an up-close look at his hands before, but now that you do, they’re much better than you imagined. And God, they look much better, dripping in a nervous sweat. His fingernails curve into a hill, practically spotless. His wrists and knuckles look so delicate that they could break under too much pressure, yet you can’t help but imagine him so clearly breaking you with those same fingers. His wrist bones pose prominently due to the positioning of his hands, and you feel the heat in your pants grow every time you see them shift under his skin. You’ve never seen more delicate hands on a man, yet you can’t even begin to imagine what he’d do to you with them.

“My eyes are up here,” Steve scolds.

You finally break the gaze on his hands to look up at him, blushing from embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just-” you stammer and stutter, tripping over your words, “I really like your hands, and I guess I zoned out looking at them.” You didn’t mean to put that much emphasis on really.

Steve gives you a blushy smile and scoots a few feet closer, putting out his left hand, “You can touch it if you want to. It doesn’t bite, I hope.”

You giggle, covering your mouth, and deny him politely, “No, seriously, I was just zoning out. I don’t want to touch your hands.”

He breaks eye contact and looks away, his kind smile folding into a frown. His eyebrows point up, and he uses his hand to cover his blushing face.

“Ah, okay.”

Your stomach drops seeing the embarrassed look on Steve’s face, and you grab his hand with both of yours in one swift motion. He makes eye contact again, his lips slightly parted. You look down at his hand, sitting tense in yours. Your thumb brushes against the back of his hand like a feather, intimately and soft.

You feel his eyes staring at the top of your head and look back up at him through your eyelashes, desire sparkling and mixing in the colors. His pupils dilate at the sudden eye contact, and you press more firmly into his hand, maintaining magnet-like staring with your eyes. The deep brown of his eyes mix with the black of his pupil, and soon everything is a mess of chocolate-colored desire and intimacy.

Your thumbs push firmly between Steve’s knuckles and along the back of his hand, and you feel knots of tension release with every press. You massage his palm with the rest of your fingers and finally break eye contact to flip his hand over and study his palm. You cup the back of his hand with one of yours and use your other hand to trace the lines in his palm with a careful index finger.

“You can hand read?” Steve questions.

You shake your head and continue tracing his lines with the nail on your pointer finger, “No, I’m just studying you.”

You close his hand and tilt your face back up at his eyes to see the blush spread on his cheeks. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you stroke his fist with both thumbs, slow and careful.

You look back down at Steve’s hand and give it back.

It’s not until you look back into his eyes that you realize how close you have gotten to each other’s faces. A hot breath escapes his parted lips, warming up your entire face. You’re so close that your noses touch, causing you to flinch backward from the shock.

A small whisper attempts to escape your lips, and a barely recognizable “thank you” is all you can manage. You cover your face in embarrassment and lean away from the heated body in front of you.

You hear him clear his throat to speak, “Yeah, anytime.”

Anytime? Do you really mean anytime? I’d love to do that all the time actually, let me give you massages all the time, it doesn’t just have to be your hands, I do other things too if you want. I definitely want to. Please let me massage you all the time-

Steve places a gentle hand on your knee and brushes it with his finger. The sudden warmth startles you out of an obsessive trance, and you look back at him longingly.

He gives you an awkward smile, “You still have to do the other hand.”

You twist your body back toward him and slowly pick his right hand up with yours. You repeat the same process, gently kneading his hands like a thick dough. You press on certain spots, releasing tension in his wrist and knuckles, slowly and delicately. You try desperately to make this moment last.

You press down on the spot between his index and middle finger’s knuckles, and Steve lets out a soft moan. The hand you were just massaging flies straight onto his mouth, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I don’t know what that was, I’m so sorry.”

You stare at him for a moment, expressionless, and pull his right hand back into yours. You find the spot again, pressing softly at first. He bites his lip with his eyebrows pulled together, holding back something desperately trying to crawl its way out of his vocal cords. You glimpse up at him through thick eyelashes and pull his hand closer into your lap. His index finger twitches nervously from the pressure between his knuckles. You can see the desperation sparking in his eyes as you inch closer. You don’t flinch when your noses touch this time.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes.

You give him a smug smile, lips mocking him, “It’s a little too early for that, isn’t it? Buy a girl a drink first.”

Steve inches away and looks at your surroundings, “Oh, I wish I could, but um-” he makes eye contact again, “It seems I’m stuck in an elevator right now. Sorry.”

You let go of his hand to cover your laugh.

“That’s true, I guess.” You inch back toward him, cupping a hand to his cheek and using your other hand to interlock your fingers in your lap.

Steve wraps his free hand around your waist. Even over your shirt, you feel all the warmth from his hand seeping through the fabric, making your stomach tingle. His eyes narrow, and his smile fades as he inches closer, lips barely pursing.

Your hot breaths mix in the small pocket of air you share between your faces. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Your stomach churns and dances inside you. 

You press down on the spot between Steve’s knuckles, and he melts into you. 

He pushes himself on top of you, pinning you to the disgusting elevator floor, one hand cupped to your face and the other hands down on the floor. He smashes your lips together, barely able to control himself anymore. His legs wrap around your waist as he pushes your bodies together.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to your body. He lets out a breathy swear when you accidentally press your body into the bulge in his jeans. You arch your back in an attempt to feel more of the heat from his body. Your arms travel up his back, tracing the indent of his back muscles with a gentle finger.

Steve passionately presses your lips together, breathing deeply as he practically grinds himself into you.

You let out a quiet moan, throwing your head back to give him access to your neck. He plants particular kisses on your collar bone, slowly moving up to your neck. He pushes your hair out of the way to start kissing you all over, looking for the spot you like the most.

It didn’t take long before he found your sweet spot. His lips suck at your neck, and his tongue swirls on the skin in his mouth. You arch your back upward into him with another soft moan. You press your waist into his jeans again, causing him to free your neck from his mouth and let out a shuddery breath.

Steve eyes the hickies now decorating your neck, pleased with himself. He positions your face back in front of his and plants a kiss on your sucked lips.

Your breath hitches when the elevator lets out a quiet ding, and the two of you jump out of each other’s grasp, startled. You feel the elevator start to move again.

You make brief eye contact with Steve, the two of you trying to process the interruption. The elevator dings again, and the door opens to the first floor.

You both stand up slowly, in shock, straightening your clothes and fixing your hair.

“We’ll have to finish this another time,” Steve starts, “I need to get my mail.” He leaves you alone in the elevator as the door closes on you and your confused face.

That really just happened, didn’t it?

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] ~ KEERY PARADISE

[bellesowl]

tell me you love me

- multiple characters

⤷ sakusa, atsumu, ushijima, kuroo

genre: fluff ; established relationships

synopsis: haikyuu boys and their love languages

word count: 1.5k total <3

warnings: very very small mention of bullies and season 4 spoilers in atsumu’s, i curse a lil

- a/n: one last fluff hc before february ends! i just wanted to do something short & sweet but then it evolved into this as always atsumu’s is too long. oh and ai (@/ luvnami) has a post very similar to tsumu’s so make sure to check it out too! kuroo’s is a sort of prequel to this post too. finally, are we surprised at my choice of characters to write at this point?

- sakusa kiyoomi

his love language is physical touch

PHEWW i know y’all weren’t expecting this

but let me explain myself

i abhor the fact that people think sakusa would detest touching his partner & that he wouldn’t act completely touch starved

so obviously, even getting him to talk to you was a whole quest and a half in and of itself but once he gets comfortable around you?

especially enough that he willingly spends time with you as your boyfriend?

you cannot tell me this man wouldn’t be completely cuddled up to you 24/7

“kiyooo” you sigh, “baby, you have practice right?”

he shakes his head, trying to trick you into spending more time with him, but by now you have his practice schedule memorized.

“c’mon, c’mon, up we go” you gently shove him off you and he pouts, “as much as i would love to stay like this forever, we both know you can’t be late to practice- especially with nationals right around the corner.” you grab his hand and lead him towards the gym.

“well maybe if you became a manager like i suggested, i would be more inclined to go to practice because i wouldn’t have to choose between my favorite things- you and volleyball.” he says with a pointed look in your direction.

you both stop in front of the gym and turn to face each other. “maybe if you do well enough at nationals, you might come back next year with a new manager, huh?” you unhook his mask and give him a slight peck. “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay babe?”

he pulls you in for a slightly longer kiss, “i was thinking more like tonight after practice, okay my love?”

you nod and shove him into the gym, where the smile on his face fades back into his signature scowl. you laugh slightly, he never will change, will he?

- miya atsumu

his love language is words of affirmation

i think this one was pretty obvious, but along with this is definitely physical touch

i mean we all know that tsumu is known for being clingy as hell but it’s cute so it’s fine

but words of affirmation- like we saw in s4, he was constantly left out, tbh borderline bullied by the other kids

sure, he always acted like it didn’t matter but that hurts, especially in middle school.

so having someone tell him they love him, that he’s great & all (at something other than volleyball), and that he’s enough? he’ll follow you to the moon and back.

as karasuno’s cheering section continues to roar with delight and the crows are on the brink of tears on the court, you can’t seem to take your eyes off a certain setter. you watch as he stands there, almost in denial. come on tsumu, you’re fine love, you think, silently cheering him on. you watch as he says something to the karasuno duo, and you smile slightly when he begins to argue with his brother.

as they line up, you stay a moment to make sure the goddamn cheering squad doesn’t say anything rude to the team who just poured their hearts out on that court. satisfied with their applause, you make your way down to the court. you wait for them to finish their team meeting before approaching your boyfriend.

“tsumu!” you yell, hoping to grab his attention. his head whips toward you and his smile widens.

“baby!!! you came!” he runs up to you with a grin but you realize his eyes aren’t lighting up the way they usually do.

“of course i did,” you scoff, “you think i’d miss this?” you grab his arm and drag him over to kita. “kita-san, i hope you don’t mind me stealing atsumu for the rest of the day?” he shakes his head and waves you off. your eyes lock for a single moment, but you receive the message loud and clear. take care of him, will you? you nod slightly before dragging your boyfriend out of the stadium.

the drive to your hotel was silent, the music keeping it from becoming awkward. the walk to your hotel room was slightly worse. you finally enter and force him to sit on the bed.

“babe, i- what?” he asks, confused and slightly flustered.

“nothing like that you idiot.” you slap him lightly on the head. “just wanna talk ‘s all.”

he avoids your gaze but you grab his chin, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “hey” you smile, “how do you feel, my love?”

by this point, he looks to be on the verge of tears. you pull him into your chest and he finally breaks down.

“you deserve so much better than a loser like me, doll. much much better than someone who practices all day and all night and still couldn’t manage to bring his team past their first day- a complete and utter failure.” he sobs lightly. you shush him and run your hands through his hair.

“ ‘mu, you know you’re so much more than that, right?” you ask softly. he opens his mouth to interrupt but you continue, “you have a natural talent for this sport, and a drive and ambition unlike anyone i know. you’re the absolute best boyfriend, and a good brother. you’ve learned to care for your teammates, and they’ve learned to love you for you, not just your skills. you’ve grown so much as a person that no one can call you a failure- ever. and if they do, send them to me.” you crack your knuckles and finish with a wink.

he chuckled lightly and pulls away from you. “i love ya, you know? i really don’t know what i did to be able to get a partner as perfect as you.” he ends with a kiss.

- ushijima wakatoshi

his love language is gifts

okay his is specifically giving gifts

not even extravagant gifts, just small knickknacks he sees that reminds him of u

he knows he isn’t the best with his words, so he tries to make up for it with these trinkets

you enter the gym and your eyes immediately lock on your boyfriend. you see tendou nudge him and point over in your direction, and you smile at the way his eyes soften. you walk over to the bench and give him a small kiss.

“hey toshi” you say with a smile, “i hope you don’t mind me coming over to watch you.”

“of course not, my love. your presence is a very welcome distraction” he answers, his eyes lighting up as he remembered something, “actually, it is very convenient timing.”

he pulls something out of his bag and hands it to you. he watches the way your eyes light up at the keychain and explains, “i remembered that you wanted something for us to match,” he pulls out a matching keychain, the lighter side of the yin and yang symbol, “so i got us this. i assumed you would want the darker side? unless i assumed wrong and you wish to switch?”

you kiss him once more, “it’s perfect, tosh, thank you.” you reply with a bright smile, the joy in your eyes evident. you kiss him a final time before gently nudging him back to the court, “i’ll be here, miracle boy.” you say, amusement and love shining in your eyes.

as wakatoshi walks back toward his best friend, he realizes that he’d do anything to make sure you look at him like that for the rest of your lives.

- kuroo tetsurou

his love language is quality time

okay so i hc kuroo as someone who wants to be with you 24/7

like while doing hw he would be facetiming you, walks you to classes, wants you to watch practice & brings you home after, etc.

he does this because it makes him feel like he’s knowing everything there is to know about you. he wants to understand each and every side to you cause he knows it will only make him love you more.

“babyyy” kuroo whined, “are you done yet?”

you sighed and answered, “like the last 5 times you asked, no. if you want to go to the party that bad, then you can go ahead. i’ll try to catch up.”

he scoffed, “and have to suffer without you? no thanks.”

“they’re your friends.” you deadpanned, irritation evident in your eyes.

“okay, but you’re much more interesting- easier on the eyes too.” he winked, “and besides, i’m going to have to stare at their ugly faces for a week.”

“and you’ll miss me” you chimed in.

he nodded, “and i’ll miss you. which is why you should just come with me to the training camp. just, i don’t know, pretend to be a manager? please?” he pleaded.

“you’ll be fine without me for a week, you idiot.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“it will be a week of hell.” he stated, “which is why i want to spend as much time as i can with you before i have to leave. and if that means sitting here while you do your homework, then so be it.”

[666writingcafe]

It All Comes Down to This

TW: mentions of blood and violence, torture, swearing

General Warning: A lot of words, a bit of self-insert, a slight venture into Lesson 13

TLDR: The game is won, but at a horrible price.

"Why did you take us to the library?" I ask him, sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the room's fireplace.

"I like to have deep conversations here," Lucifer explains, occupying the chair across from me.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be easier for me to just defeat you?" Lucifer chuckles.

"Perhaps, but I can't say with confidence that I wouldn't retaliate by reflex."

"And if I died as a result, you'd never be able to face Diavolo again."

"Or myself." Interesting...

"Would you be that affected by my death, Lucifer? I'm sure you've been the cause of many human casualties. What makes me any different?" Silence.

"Is your pride preventing you from answering me?" I ask.

"Partly, yes," he replies quietly.

"You know, we could just sit in silence."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if we didn't do anything to advance in the game, then your brothers wouldn't be able to return, and as much as I like them, I think we could do a lot better without them." Lucifer smiles as he shrugs.

"I have thought about what my life would be like if I didn't have to contend with my brothers."

"Quiet, probably." Lucifer laughs.

"Yeah. Or, I can have the walls of this house shake with my music."

"And more than one kind."

"Or interpretation." The look in his eyes suggests that he went to the same gutter I did.

"With whom?" My question causes Lucifer to stop smiling, and he seems to retreat back inside himself. Am I making him nervous?

"It's fine, Lucifer," I tell him after a moment. "You don't have to tell me. It's not like we can stay like this forever, anyway." He sighs.

"True. Mammon would cry if he overheard us talking like this."

"So, we have no choice to fall in love with each other."

"Well, I happen to remember a particular group chat where you mentioned that I was your type." He smirks, and I feel my face growing warmer.

"Having a crush on someone isn't the same as loving them." It's a miracle that I didn't stammer as I said that.

"I know that. That's why I want us to have this conversation. How are we to know we're a match if we only go by looks?"

"Are you wanting us to be compatible?"

"If it helps us win the game, yes." A small voice in my head tells me that that's not the only reason, but considering that he's gone quiet twice already, I don't want to push my luck by pestering him about it.

"So, how do you want to go about this?"

"I was thinking we could ask each other some questions and answer as honestly as possible."

"What if one of us doesn't want to answer a question?"

"Then we'll simply say that we don't want to answer it."

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright. I'll go first: how do you really feel about what's going on right now?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but there's a part of me that feels like we're being set up."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your brothers seem like the type of people that would get together and formulate a plan to get things to go a certain way in order to get what they want."

"And why do you think they would want us to fall in love?" He looks at me expectantly, and I sigh.

"You think I'm being silly, don't you?"

"Yes and no. I understand where you're going with your thinking, but what you may not know is that my brothers are incredibly jealous people, even more than the average demon."

"Is it because they're Avatars?"

"Yes."

"So, would that make you the most jealous one out of the bunch?" He hesitates momentarily, but then answers,

"Again, yes." I need to change the subject before I lose him again.

"How do you feel about all this, Lucifer?"

"I think it's fun."

"Fun?" Lucifer smiles.

"If we relax and try to enjoy this, it might actually make things easier."

"I see. So, you're enjoying yourself, while I'm a nervous wreck. This isn't going very well so far."

"Oh, I don't know. They say opposites attract." Goddamn it, Lucifer. Why do you have to have to go and say things like that when you know how I feel about you?

"I've seemed to have gotten you all riled up, MC."

"How am I supposed to know that you're being serious?"

"Because if I wasn't, I wouldn't be going along with any of this. I would have left you asleep in your room, and I would have shut myself in my office and worked." He's becoming irritated at me, I can tell.

"Sorry, Lucifer."

"I forgive you. It's hard not knowing how the other person feels about you." Growing quiet, he swallows. "I wish I could be more open with you, MC, but my sin makes it nearly impossible for me to reveal my deepest thoughts and emotions. It's taking a lot of my strength to remain seated in front of you, for there's a voice in my head that's yelling at me to run."

"Do you like me, Lucifer?" Another swallow.

"I like what I know about you."

"Is that all you can say right now?" My voice is soft, not wanting to aggravate Lucifer's sin any more than I have.

"Without magical assistance, yes."

"Fair enough. Would it be good for you if we talked about something else?" He visibly relaxes as he replies yes. "How important is your family to you?"

"As much as my brothers piss me off, and as much as I may joke about not wanting them around, they mean the world to me. Their wellbeing is part of the reason why I rebelled against our father." I wonder why Lucifer feels comfortable telling me this, because I get the impression it's something he's not told many other people about it, not even his brothers.

"So, if we were to get in a relationship, would you want me to get along with them?"

"Ultimately, yes. At the very least, I'd want you to be civil with them."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you how I thought about them?"

"Sure."

"I'll start with Mammon: despite everything he's done over the course of my stay here, I do have a soft spot for him."

"Honestly, I do, too. I helped mentor him in the Celestial Realm, and even then, I couldn't help but love the damn rascal."

"Would you say he's like a cute but annoying dog?" Lucifer laughs.

"That's actually a good way to describe him, MC. Maybe I'll change his name on my D.D.D. to 'Fido' or something."

"What about Luke?"

"Oh, he's 'Chihuahua'. I'll be able to tell the difference." I snort in amusment.

"Moving on, I think that Levi's actually a very interesting person. I'd enjoy an afternoon of him showing me every aspect of an anime or game."

"That makes sense. You seem fascinated by knowledge."

"Attracted to."

"Do you find smart people sexy?" I can't help but snicker a bit. "It's a valid question."

"I suppose so, yes," I say once I compose myself.

"Good to know. That must mean Satan's right up your alley, then."

"Knowledge can take the form of all sorts of things, Lucifer. It doesn't just have to come from books."

"I see."

"That doesn't mean that I don't like Satan, though, because I do. I could chill in his room for hours."

"That doesn't surprise me. What about Asmo?"

"When he's not being full of himself, I see someone that I'd like to be friends with, but he puts up this wall of pretentiousness and I can't deal with it for long periods of time."

"So far, it seems as though our opinions about my brothers are pretty similar. Now, at the time that you made the pact with Beel, you told me that he was the only one that you had specifically gone after with that purpose."

"Yes..." Where is he going with this?

"Do you still feel the same about him now as you did then?" I have to tell him about the shift in my relationship with Beel. Otherwise, he's probably going to force it out of me, and I don't imagine the process would be gentle.

"Well...Beel and I have sort of become friends with benefits."

"When?" Lucifer looks serious, but at least he appears calm.

"He asked me to film him as he was working out one day, and then the next day he asked me to spot him, and things just kinda progressed from there."

"Well, at least it's him." Huh? That was not the reaction I was expecting him to have.

"What do you mean?"

"He served as one of the Celestial guards. He could be trusted to protect anything and everything he was told to. Still can. So, I know you're in good hands where that's concerned."

"Didn't you say a few minutes ago that you were the most jealous out of your brothers?"

"I don't really see my brothers as competition, not where you're concerned." Did he...? There's no way...is there?

"I think it's time to change the subject." Once again, Lucifer smirks.

"Nervous, are we?"

"Lucifer..." He puts his hands up in playful defeat.

"Alright, alright. You've not pushed when I was uncomfortable, so I will consider your boundaries as well."

"Thank you."

"Since I have a fair idea about how you feel about my youngest brother, I think we can draw this part of the discussion to a close." That's good, especially given the fact that Belphie's probably hiding somewhere in this house, waiting to pounce out at any moment. "Now, would you be interested in knowing my type?" Not the direction I was expecting us to go next, but it's fine.

"Sure."

"I know I mentioned in the group chat that I agreed with your assumption that I liked anyone I fell in love with, but that only scratched the surface. You see, the people--or souls--that I'm most attracted to are pure, genuine, and worthy of respect."

"So, not Diavolo." Lucifer chuckles.

"No, not Diavolo. Although that hasn't stopped me at times."

"Don't tell me..."

"Yes."

"Really?" He nods his head. "And he didn't force you using his mark?"

"Well, sometimes he did, but sometimes I came to him voluntarily."

"You know your brothers are going to give you shit if they found out."

"Which is why you're not going to say anything to him." He's giving me the "you-better-do-what-I-say-or-I'll-punish-you" look, so I know he's not joking.

"Understood. Have you ever been romantically involved with anyone else?"

"Love wasn't really a thing I experienced in the Celestial Realm. At least, not the individual kind you're talking about. Everyone was pretty much linked with everyone else at the same time. Since I've become a demon, I've had plenty of flings with lower demons, witches, and ordinary humans, but the closest thing I've come to a serious relationship up until now was a period of time where I was involved with a reaper."

"I can see you dating a reaper." He shakes his head.

"Aesthetically and sexually, it worked, but we brought out the worse in each other. It was a very toxic situation for both of us." He pauses. "How about you, MC?"

"This might sound lame, but other than Beel, a guy that I went on a few dates with, and a guy that I made out with once, there really hasn't been anyone like that in my life. Unless you count cats as romantic partners." Lucifer develops a look of concern.

"Please tell me you haven't..." Oh my god. He thinks I'm like Shane Dawson.

"No, no, no! It's nothing like that! I just have a very special connection with one of my cats back home, that's all." That relieves Lucifer.

"So, you have a familiar."

"Kind of."

"Those are very useful creatures to have."

"That's what my dad says."

"He's a wise man." We reach a good break in the conversation, and we sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Lucifer?" I eventually ask.

"Yes, MC?"

"How practical would it be for us to actually date? I mean, I'm just an exchange student, and you're Diavolo's right-hand man, for better or for worse. Wouldn't we be too busy to spend any quality time together?" He reaches over and places his hand on top of mine.

"I promise you that, no matter how busy our lives may get, I will always make time for you." I would have savored the sweet moment if it weren't for me catching a glimpse of glowing purple eyes in a dark corner of the room behind Lucifer.

He's here.

"MC?" Lucifer asks. "What's wrong?" The question causes tears to well up in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer."

"What do you have to be sorry for?"

"For not being strong enough to stop it from happening." Even though my answer is vague, Lucifer seems to understand exactly what I mean, for he slowly turns his head towards the direction of the glowing eyes.

"Please don't kill me," I whimper as blue light begins surrounding him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Surprisingly, he yells that question at the silent Belphegor, not at me. "He's going to kill us all!"

Suddenly, the library disappears. I find myself in a room full of windows. Each window reveals a horrible sight.

Mammon's chained up in the air just out of reach of a golden key.

Video game monsters kill Levi over and over again.

Satan's surrounded by a circle of Lucifer's taunting him.

An endless stream of beings mutilate Asmo's body and do other unspeakable things to him.

Beel's tied to a chair and gagged, forced to watch people feast as they wave food at his face.

Belphie's attached to a device that forces his eyes to stay open as a cacophony of various objects occurs all around him.

And in the center of the room are Lucifer and Diavolo. Lucifer screams in horror as Diavolo laughs maniacally.

This is all my fault. I failed to control myself, and now this is the future I've created for the brothers.

Of course. The knife. I can end this.

Pain. Red. High-pitched screams. Loud confusion.

"I'm going to tear him limb from limb!"

Pure rage. Quick, heavy footsteps. Shock. Many hands.

"Out of my way!"

Brute force. Kicking. Fists. Yelling.

"All of you, get out of here this instant!"

"Well, this wasn't the family reunion I was expecting."

"You bought your freedom at the cost of our lives! Do you think that's worth gloating about?!"

More yelling.

"Why would I listen to you when you're the one who betrayed us?!"

Weightlessness. Pitch black.

[scuttling]

Animals

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,766 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Insecure reader, Crushes, Some very public secret touching, Fingering, Pool sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Based on this prompt from anon: "Reader in a red skimpy bikini at one of rossi’s pool parties trying to get hotch to loosen up….what happens when she gets a little too close when they’re swimming in the pool?" I uh 🥵 Link to A03 or read below! Going to Rossi’s for dinner as a team has to be one of your favorite things in life. There is always good food, good drink, teasing and grinning and laughter; you all get to decompress, destress, enjoy each other’s company as people and not because someone’s life depends on it.

You get to see Hotch as a person, too, and that’s kind of the best part. He’s the one who needs to relax and unwind more than anyone, so when he’s there with you all, casually dressed, softer, and quick to smile, it’s no wonder you… feel things.

You’re not an animal. You can feel things without acting on those feelings; you are more than your instincts. So what if you get butterflies in your stomach when he offers to pour you more wine? So what if your breathing picks up when he’s so close you can feel his breath on your neck? So what if you end these nights at home, alone in your bed, wishing he was beside you, inside you? He’s still off limits.

Your body’s reactions to him are normal, chemical, biological, and pointless, because he could be standing half naked in front of you and you would still be able to control yourself. You are a brain that happens to be in a body, not a body that happens to have a brain.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself when Rossi invites everyone over, not for dinner, but an evening pool party.

A pool party. Fuck.

You are one hundred percent apprehensive, but for two different reasons. One is that you are a little self-conscious, and you prefer jeans and t-shirts over any other clothing; wearing a swimsuit in front of your coworkers seems extremely daunting. The other reason is that seeing Hotch in his swimsuit might actually be more terrifying, because you talk a big game about being able to control yourself, but if presented with his hot body, dripping wet, maybe his hair slicked back, a drop of water on his nose...

You take a deep breath, blow it out slowly. You’re just going to tell them you feel sick and can’t make it. Probably no one will care anyway.

You’re just gathering your things to leave work for the weekend, preparing to smile sadly and tell your lie, when Hotch appears at your side, his bag slung over his shoulder. He’s leaving work on time for once; it’s a freaking miracle.

“You’re coming to Rossi’s, right?” he asks softly, and you get those goddamn butterflies. You smile, not sadly.

“Yeah, definitely. I need to go home and get my swimsuit, though. I think I have one... somewhere.” It’s been a while since you had a vacation; wherever it is, you hope it still fits. He swallows, nods.

“Right, of course. I’ll see you there, then.” He brushes a hand carefully over your shoulder and passes you, heads for the door. You take another deep breath.

You are not an animal.

Right?

You arrive at Rossi’s house last, because you spent so long looking in the mirror, trying to convince yourself to just accept the way the swimsuit fits.

The only one you could find was from college, a little red string bikini, and since your body is obviously different now, it’s a little too small. You’re mostly covered, though, except for your ass, and no one is going to be paying much attention anyway. These people are like your brothers and sisters—or in Rossi’s case, your fun uncle—with the exception of Hotch, but you know he’s not going to be looking.

You walk into the backyard in your coverup, a cute black and white tunic, and everyone is swimming but JJ and Hotch. JJ is standing off to the side, phone at her ear, and Hotch is sitting on a lounge chair, not lounging at all. His spine looks rigid, but you can’t imagine why.

“Beer, my dear?” Rossi calls, holding up his own Corona. “Over by Hotch.” You smile and head toward him, bending to reach into the cooler for a drink; he looks a little more comfortable when he sees you, and says hello. You reply, then lift the bottom of your tunic to try to twist off the bottle cap, to no avail.

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching for your bottle, and he wraps his t-shirt around it, pops it open and hands it back.

“Thanks.” You take a long sip, your head tilted back; after all the self-scrutiny, you feel like you earned this one. “Why aren’t you swimming?”

“I will; didn’t feel like it yet,” he says, looking up at you, and you put a hand on your hip.

“Only you would come to a pool party and not swim, Hotch. Live a little.” You take another long sip, if you can call it that—the bottle is half empty already—and then set it down on the table, pull your tunic over your head. Might as well undress where fewer people are paying attention. “Come on,” you say, reaching out a hand. “I will if you will.”

He looks you over like he thinks you’re crazy or something, staring at you for a long moment, and then nods, lets you pull him up to standing. He tugs his shirt off too, and you do your best not to stare, because he is even hotter than you’d imagined, his chest broad and strong, arms strong too, and there’s a trail of hair disappearing beneath his swim trunks that you would like to explore with your mouth. You take a calming breath, turn to head for the edge of the pool, and he follows behind you; Derek looks up and whistles, and you feel yourself flush hot.

“Okay, Baywatch,” he calls with a grin, “come toward me again, but this time run in slow motion.” You roll your eyes and remind yourself not to try to cover up. If he sees you nervous, it’s just going to get that much worse.

“Shut up. It’s the only one I had,” you reply, and you look back at Hotch, who’s just standing there behind you and not saying anything. It’s like he’s afraid to get too close to the pool, or something; no way a big bad FBI guy is scared of water, right?

You get in the pool, and it feels blissfully good on this 80+ degree day, even though the sun is down; you dunk your head just to get it over with, before someone does it for you, and when you come up, you hum happily and rub your wet hair back out of your face.

You look at Hotch, who is sitting on the edge with his feet in the pool. It’s a total cop out, and you swim over to him and carefully put your hands on his legs beneath the water. He looks down at you seriously and doesn’t move.

“Come on, all the way in. For me.” He wets his lips, and you’re about 80% sure he’s going to ignore you, so you just let go of his legs and back away; he absolutely surprises you by dropping into the water with a splash. He goes under, pops up and shakes his wet hair, droplets clinging to his shoulders. You laugh out loud and give him a shove, glad, again, that you’d chosen to submerge yourself already.

“Are you happy now?” he asks, voice dry, but with a playful smile, and you nod and smile as well. Yes, you’re happy, maybe a little happier than you should be: you can feel that your nipples are hard beneath the thin material of the bikini top. Your stupid body is sending signals, and you’re entering the danger zone, your brain and body fighting for dominance; your stupid body may be winning.

Do not engage, your brain repeats when you look at wet Hotch, a sight to behold, all big and drippy and firm; your body whispers in your ear like the devil on your shoulder, just go for it—he will feel really good—what’s the worst that could happen?

“Yes,” is all you say, moving closer to him even though there’s a warning bell going off in your brain. Do not engage!! “All I wanted was for you to loosen up a little, to relax.” You’re less than a foot from him, and no one is paying either of you any attention, busy playing with an inflatable beach ball or singing along to the radio or drifting around on a lounge float. You two might as well be the only people in the world, or at least that’s how it feels.

“I’m… loose,” he says, his voice low and rough, and something about it makes you feel less inhibited, like maybe it’s not just you who wants this; your hand brushes his waist, and then his hand brushes your hip, and then you lean closer and your leg brushes…

Very loose indeed, if loose equals horny, because that’s definitely not a gun in his trunks and he’s definitely happy to see you.

“Sorry,” you breathe, but you don’t feel sorry. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and you brush him more purposefully this time: your thigh against his bulging cock.

Do not engage!!

“Don’t be,” he replies eventually, and then it’s your hand moving of its own accord, palming him, big and hard. He closes his eyes, wets his lips. You want to bite his throat, to lick it, to get your hand down his shorts and feel him; you’re about to do that, your fingers slipping past the elastic, his breath hitching, and then the beach ball smacks down in the water right beside the two of you and you jump apart, startled.

“Sorry!” Emily calls, and Hotch bats the ball back over to them, and then you just look at each other. Was that a close call you never mention again, or…?

Now or never, your body says. He was about to let you put your hand in his pants. Try it again.

You are not an animal.

You try it again.

This time, you make it past the waistband, and you wrap your fingers around his dick. It’s thick, and hot, and smooth, and he reaches out a hand to grip your waist hard, his eyes boring into yours. You wet your lips, move your fingers to the head, rub it, and then you stroke him three times just to see what he looks like when you do.

He’s gorgeous, unsurprisingly, his eyes lidded and his chest heaving, and you rub him softly one more time and then withdraw your hand; apparently you’re cool with groping your boss in the same pool as the rest of your coworkers, but an actual orgasm is where you draw the line.

You are also breathing heavy, so turned on you’re almost shaking with need, and then Hotch reaches down and slides his hand inside your swimsuit bottoms, rubs the pads of two fingers along your slit. It takes everything you have not to moan at his touch, especially when he dips lower, prods at your opening where you are already slick. He takes a deep breath, and it looks like he’s fighting for strength too, which makes you feel a little better.

At least you’re both animals, now.

He pulls back only to get his hand on your ass, to squeeze it so hard your body shifts forward. You look up at him, and he looks down at you, and everything that needs to be said is said with your eyes.

You drift apart a little bit, but you still feel the ghost of his touch and maybe always will.

You float around, and talk a little; you get out to finish your beer, to grab you both another, and now that you know he’s into you, you maybe make climbing out look a little sexy. When you ease back in, hand him his bottle, he makes eye contact while he wraps his lips around it and takes a long drink.

Eventually, the others interact with the two of you, and it feels so strange to pretend that you and Hotch didn’t just fucking fondle each other fifteen feet away. It also feels really dirty, and that only serves to make you wetter. The glances he’s shooting you don’t help that situation much, either.

Garcia and Emily are the first to leave, and then Reid, until the only ones left are the two of you, Derek, and JJ. JJ says goodbye, heads out, and then Derek gets ready to leave. Rossi says he’ll walk him out, that he’s going to turn in, but that you and Hotch are welcome to stay as long as you like, and to just please lock the front door when you go.

“Couldn’t get you to get in, now can’t get you to get out,” Derek teases Hotch; you preen a little, because you know you’re the cause of both, and when Derek and Rossi leave, the air becomes thick with tension again. You open your mouth but don’t know what to say.

It’s Hotch who actually speaks first.

“I’ve thought about doing that for a very long time,” he murmurs, and you move closer to him, get your hands on his waist again. “You are so fucking beautiful, all the time, but in that bikini… were you just trying to tempt me?” he asks, a sincere question, and you shake your head.

“It’s really the only one I own. I got it in college, so it’s a little small now,” you explain, and he chuckles, soft and low.

“Well then, I guess I’m glad you don’t swim much, because you’re absolutely breathtaking. I was having a very hard time keeping my hands off of you, so I’m glad that you… initiated.” He puts his hands on your ass, pulls you closer, and you wrap your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck.

“Me too. I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember, you’re so fucking perfect.” You bring a hand to his wet hair and guide him down for a deep, steamy kiss, rubbing against his hard-on and moaning softly, since you can, now. “I want you, Hotch.”

“I need you,” he says, and that’s so much hotter; you reach between you to push down his shorts, taking him in your hand and stroking him again while he holds you up, and then you ease your bottoms to the side and guide him inside you, moaning and tipping your head back when he presses in. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, and you cling to him, kiss him harder, and move in his arms.

“Oh, god, Hotch,” you breathe against his lips, working your hips against his thrusts. “You feel so good, so big and hard and good.” He groans, buries his face in your neck, and pumps up into you roughly, like he’s getting close already.

God, this is amazing, pure fucking, the outcome of being up to your eyeballs in sexual tension—you’re connecting the dots now, seeing how some things you thought were innocent between the two of you were absolutely not—and when he comes he pounds hard inside you, and you dig your nails into his neck and bounce on him until he groans and slides out, sensitive.

“Oh, wow,” he exhales, and then he turns so you’re up against the wall of the pool and lets you go, holding out his hands so you know to stay there. You stretch your arms out on either side of you, breathing hard, and he leans in, moves your top out of the way and sucks on a nipple, then reaches down and pushes your bottoms aside again, presses his fingers deep and fucks you with them.

“Hotch, oh, fuck.” He looks up at you through dark lashes, nips at your breast, and then lifts his mouth off and begs you to come until you do, practically strangling his fingers as you clench tight around him.

He pulls his hand away after getting you through it, fixes your suit and then his, and then pulls you back into his arms and kisses you for a long time, full of yearning and passion and satisfaction. You sigh against his mouth, touch his face, and offer for him to spend the night at your place.

He does, and you have sex on the kitchen counter, and in your bed, and then on the floor the next morning.

You animals. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce

[mypoisonedvine]

Rough Ride | biker!Chris Evans x reader

summary: for a biker, chris is quite the romantic.  for a small-town waitress, you’re quite the rebel for falling for a biker.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: smut!!, biker gang shenanigans, references to smoking, love at first sight, a touch of possessiveness, vaguely soulmate au?? (because of aforementioned love at first sight), kinda innocent reader, shy reader, essentially a very fluffy pwp

The gang had never really scared you, even if the other girls working here were intimidated by them.  In your mind, having a motorcycle club frequent your hole-in-the-wall meant being more protected rather than more vulnerable.  Most of them were nice enough, even if their glances were less than subtle and they brought in the smell of cigarettes with them.  They tipped well, and what matters other than that?  

When you saw Chris for the first time, though, you were intimidated.  Maybe that wasn’t the right word.  It wasn’t him that scared you at all, but the rush of feelings that overcame you.  What scared you was knowing that, as absurd as it was, you were in love.

He sat at your table, as if he knew you’d be serving him, spreading his legs as he got comfortable and draping a leather jacketed arm over the worn pleather booth.  You’d tried to keep your cool, taking his order in spite of those crystal blue eyes piercing right through you.  Ink decorated his skin, peeking out from every edge of his clothing— unreadable words on his neck, abstract shapes on his wrists and hands, letters on his knuckles.  You watched from the kitchen as those tattooed fingers wrapped around the mug of coffee you’d served him, his neck tattoo shifting a little as he took a long sip.

“Do y’all want anything to eat?” you asked quietly, waiting for a chance to hear his voice.  His buddies answered first, ordering hashbrowns and bacon and their various usuals.  With no one else left to ask, your eyes met his and you waited in tense silence for him to say something.

“You got pancakes?”  

How stupid that those were the words that made your heart stop, slurred with a Boston accent, monotone to the point it barely sounded like a question.

You were in love with him.  Before now you hadn’t been the type to dream about soulmates, to wait for your Prince Charming to come save you.  But this guy had a noble steed you could ride off into the sunset with— except it was a Ducati, and sunset wasn’t for another nine hours…

“Hello?” he frowned.

Oh, had you forgotten to actually say something?

“Y-yes,” you finally blurted out, “we’ve got pancakes.  Best in the county.”

“Blueberry?”

You nodded quickly.  “Or cinnamon, or banana, or original…”

“Blueberry then,” he decided.  “Thanks.”

You shuffled to the back, spinning behind the saloon door into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with a sigh.  It was a miracle you remembered any of the other orders, since all you could think about was him and his eyes and his voice and those ridiculously lovely tats.

You passed the order on to the cook, taking off the apron part of your uniform so you could try to cool off for a second, only peering out to check that the table didn’t need anything every few minutes.  As much as you wanted to hide away in the kitchen forever, you could see that a few of the mugs were empty at his table and you needed to give them a refill.  

Sighing and grabbing a fresh pot from the coffeemaker, you ventured back into the dining area; of course it only took him a split second to lock his eyes on you, watching you come closer with a stare that made the silence so much more oppressive.

“Everything alright so far?” you asked, voice much shakier than you meant for it to be.  One of the other bikers asked about getting a cup of decaf, another wanted more creamer, but he just sipped at the black coffee and kept his eyes trained on you over the rim on the mug.  “Food should be out in a minute…”

You all but ran back to the kitchen; you could only take so much of him at once.  Looking at him was like looking at the sun, and looking anywhere else was like a waste of your vision.

You made busywork for yourself in the kitchen, rearranging utensils and refilling ketchup bottles.  You heard the kitchen door swing open behind you, the light shifting in the corner of your eye.

“Charlene, can you cover my table for a while?  I can’t go back out there—” you began, but heavy footsteps stopping behind you made you realize it was most certainly not Charlene.  You spun around to find him staring down at you, contemplating the way you shrunk into his shadow.

“Were you really gonna run so quick?  Make Charlene bring me my pancakes?” he asked with a gentle voice, stepping slightly closer.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” you explained sheepishly.

“I heard we own this place,” he returned, raising an eyebrow, “and everything in it.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “something like that…”

Then he moved in so close— almost too close, even though you simultaneously wanted more— until you were clutching the cool metal table behind you, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back.

“Tell me something, sweetheart,” he whispered, “do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I’m starting to,” you admitted quietly.  And he kissed you, so much more delicate and tender than he had any right to be.  Maybe you should’ve feigned disinterest, but not even for a moment could you do anything but kiss him back, slipping your arms around his neck.  But that wasn’t enough to keep him close, unfortunately, as he pulled away much too soon.

“How about now?” he pressed, and your eyes were a little delayed in opening again as you tried to process the fact that you’d just experienced the most perfect kiss of all time.

You nodded a little, looking back up at him and biting your lip slightly.  “You never told me your name,” you realized.

“Chris,” he answered quickly.  You started to tell him yours but he finished it for you, making your eyes go wide.

“How did you—?”

He smirked and tapped on the hard plastic nametag pinned to your chest.

“Oh,” you giggled, “right…”

He leaned in a little closer, one arm caging you in as it rested against the wall by your head, while the other was playing with the hem of your yellow uniform.  “When do you get off?” he purred in your ear, his fingers brushing over your legs just under your skirt.

“Whenever you want me to get off,” you answered quickly, not even noticing the double entendre.

“Right now,” he decided.  “Your shift ends right now, and you’re gonna get on the back of my bike and ride with me.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

You stood a few feet away on the gravel while he started the engine, enraptured at the way his fingers gripped the handles and pumped the gas and brakes to test them.  When he guided you to get on the back, you tried not to notice the way the vibrations of the bike shot right through you, and just focused on his face as he turned back to look at you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Your place.”

He chuckled lightly but revved the engine, kicking off and sending the bike spurring forward onto the highway.  You clutched at his torso tightly, resting your face on the leather of his jacket and watching your tiny little town roll by.

//

Normally this would be the time to describe his apartment, but you didn’t even notice it; you were too busy grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into you the second he’d unlocked the door.  You’d never kissed anyone like this, or ever tried to, or ever wanted to, so you didn’t know if you were doing it right.  But he sure seemed to like it considering he pressed against you and moaned a little into your mouth.

Maybe it was all a game for him, his chance to corrupt an innocent waitress who bought his crap because she was gullible enough to believe he loved her.  You knew that was more likely than not, you weren’t stupid for all your naivete, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to believe it.  It felt so real, the way he pulled you closer, the way he kissed you— it didn’t feel like he was rushing you, since you were the one who helped him take his jacket off before you started to unbutton your uniform, and pushed him back onto the mattress on the floor, straddling him as you moaned into his mouth.

“Baby,” he whispered against your lips, something like shock mixed with pride painting the tone of his voice.

“I need you,” you whimpered, “I’ve never— I don’t usually— this isn’t—”

“It’s okay,” he nodded, “I get it.  I’ve never felt this way before either.”

He pushed your hands away from their task of opening the uniform, his thick and ink-decorated fingers taking over instead.  Your face warmed as he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your practical bra— not very sexy, unfortunately, but he didn’t seem to mind as he ran his hands all over your newly-exposed skin.

Not that you would’ve been especially irritated if it took him a minute to unhook your bra, but of course he did it seamlessly.  Faster than when you tried to do it yourself, even.

His palms were warm as they cupped your breasts, your nipples already hard but reacting further to being tweaked between his thumb and forefingers.  A shiver danced down your spine, and you fought between looking back into his piercing gaze or glancing away to spare yourself the intensity of it all.  You stammered out his name when he pinched a little harder, almost losing your balance but catching yourself on his chest.

He stopped and sat up to quickly pull his shirt off, and you bit your lip at the sight of his chest and torso littered in ink.  You wanted to trace each one with your tongue, but that would have to wait for another time; instantly he pushed you off of him and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his absurdly thick arms and grinning as he hovered above you.

“You are so goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, “did you know that?”

You stammered, never really getting out an effective reply, as he reached down and toyed with the hem of your panties.  His fingers tickled your skin while he started to pull them down, excruciatingly slow; his eyes bore into yours for the longest time, dark and brooding, until he finally glanced down and watched the fabric slide over your thighs.

With bated breath, you waited for his reaction to your nude body.  He was silent as he pushed your legs apart, finally letting out a low growl as he spread your folds.  “Fuck, baby…” he sighed just under his breath.

The moment his fingers made contact with your soaked folds, you gasped; he gathered the abundant slick he found there and spread it over your clit, drawing relaxed circles over it as you fought not to buck your hips up already.  That was impossible, though, when he slipped a finger into your soaking entrance, and then another.

“Oh—” you gasped, sitting up to watch him work as if you couldn’t really believe it was happening otherwise.

Watching his tattoos disappear inside you was… indescribable.  Your head fell back as those fingers curled inside you, his thumb rubbing over your clit roughly.  “Fuck,” you groaned, “Chris, don’t stop…”

He didn’t, in fact he only pumped and twisted his fingers faster until you clutched at the sheets beneath you and arched your back.  You couldn’t exactly keep track of what you were saying, or how long it had been going, but you were pretty sure that you were doing lots of begging and that it had not been long enough to justify the fact that you were already right on the edge of coming.  When his fingers moved a little faster and a little rougher, you moaned his name before you could stop yourself.

“Yeah, you gonna make a mess all over my hand, baby?” he growled through his teeth.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “yes, I’m so close.”

“Then do it,” he encouraged gruffly, “come for me.”

You must have reached up and grabbed him at some point, because your nails were digging into his shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark if it weren’t for the marks already there— hard to see a bruise on black ink.  Hard to see anything when you’re coming so hard that your vision goes a little spotty.  If you had realized the intensity of your involuntary convulsions in that moment, you would’ve likely been self-conscious about it, but you didn’t really notice since you were too busy gasping and moaning and writhing for him— and he didn’t even stop until you reached down and grabbed his wrist.  You weren’t strong enough to push him away, of course, but it was a clear signal, and he thankfully slowed down to a stop.  You whimpered a little when he pulled his fingers out of you; he hummed as he brought the digits to his lips and sucked your flavor from them.

Any other day and one orgasm would satisfy you, especially one like that.  And in a sense, you were satisfied; but in another (and stronger) sense, you needed more— you needed everything.  You just hoped that sitting up and fumbling with his belt would get the point across.

He didn’t help you this time, happy to sit there breathing heavily and watching you work on his belt, then his fly, then his boxers until you were gasping as you revealed his thick cock.  Maybe it was just going to go straight to his ego, but you had no interest in hiding your shock at the sight of it, a drop of precum forming at the slit; a picturesque vein running up the underside.  “Fuck,” you groaned, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a few slow strokes.

You yelped a little, in a good way, as he pushed you back onto the bed and kissed you deeply: it was needy, but not quite rough.

When the tip of him prodded at your entrance, you gasped against his lips, and yet you were still a little disappointed when he broke the kiss and pulled away, his eyes rapidly scanning your expression.

“You want it?” he asked— not a taunt, a genuine question.

“Yes,” you nodded, “more than anything.”

“This isn’t a fling,” he told you sternly.  “This isn’t a one-night stand.  We do this, you’re mine, you understand?”

“Yours,” you agreed with a breathless nod, and he finally pushed the tip into you.  He stopped when you winced, but you didn’t mind the sting so much— you wanted to feel everything, even the pain, as long as it was him.  You wrapped your legs around his hips and tried to push him in deeper, but he resisted.  “I want it all, please,” you begged weakly.

“Not sure you can take it,” he admitted nervously.

“I can, please, just need you inside me,” you whined.

He sighed a little but relented and pushed all the way in, still maintaining a measured pace; you sighed with relief when his hips were flush against yours.  The sting was nothing compared to the perfection of his body nestled in yours, the way he looked down at you before he kissed you again.  It was less rushed than before, less desperate as he savored every inch of you, like you had all the time in the world— it certainly felt like you did.

He didn’t pull out very far, focusing instead on grinding his hips against yours, which not only served to keep him so deep inside you that you could barely breathe but also pressed some very hard part of him right into your clit.  It was nearly overwhelming, but his kiss kept you grounded, along with his arms slipping under you so he could hold you tight.  You clutched at his neck and ran your fingers through his hair, kissing him back and moaning against his tongue.  It helped you relax a little, until your body opened up to his size and he could thrust a bit harder without resistance.  Even then, he kept it slow and steady, waiting until you whined and pleaded for more to start really fucking you.

You couldn’t keep up with the kiss anymore when he pounded into you like that, your head falling back and giving him perfect access to gently bite at your neck.  It only made you wetter to imagine that while he wore his tattoos on his neck, you could bare whatever marks he made on your skin with his lips and teeth and tongue.  Too bad yours would be less permanent.

“How’s it feel?” he asked you darkly, his voice rough but warm against your ear.

“So good,” you panted, “you feel so good.”

He reached down to grab your parted legs and hold them open wider, and you hadn’t realized that it would send the tip of him spearing straight into your most delicate spot.  Your back arched instantly and you made a somewhat embarrassing noise, but he grinned and nibbled at your jaw, thrusting a little faster and repeating the motion.

“F-fuck,” you shuddered.

“You’re— shit, you’re squeezin’ on me,” he groaned, and you took pride in the way pleasure affected his voice.  “Can feel you tryin’ to milk my cock.”

Lewd talk like that had never turned you on so much before, but it was different the way he said it.  Then again, everything was different when he did it, especially the way his fingertips were sure to leave little bruises on your legs from how tight he was holding.

“Look down,” he instructed as he sat up slightly, “look at how good you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You did, and sure enough, it was hard to believe that every time he pulled back, his massive cock was somehow going to fit back inside you again— or that it ever did in the first place.  But with every stroke he filled you to the brim, and when you looked back up, he was already staring down at you with those damn eyes that kept you frozen in place every time.

He pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss as he stared down at you.  “Flip over, get on your hands and knees for me.”

You surprised yourself with how quickly you obeyed, arching your back as his rough hands gripped at your hips tightly.  When he pulled you back and speared you on his cock, it was like an entirely new sensation.  His cock was even deeper, stretching your walls in new ways as you keened and whimpered beneath him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” he groaned, already setting a new and much more aggressive pace.

“So good,” you cried, “it’s so good, you’re so good…”

“You like how I fuck you?” he pressed, like your mouth hung slack and your hands struggling to hold onto the mattress weren’t enough to make it obvious that you did.

“Love it,” you moaned, “please, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, thankfully, not even close; he held your body and pulled you back onto him in time with his own thrusts forward, the sound of skin on skin rivalled only by your constant stream of moans and cries.  

Another orgasm was well on its way, though this one felt different than the first— coming on slower but stronger, making your legs shake as they fought to hold you up your weight.  

When the coil finally snapped, you didn’t feel the need to tell him you were coming again, because it was so obvious from the way you moaned and how your walls rippled and tightened on him harder than ever.  And just in case it wasn’t clear that he noticed you hitting the height of your pleasure, he leaned down a little and mumbled right against your ear: “Feels so good when you come for me, baby.”

You whimpered and let your upper body collapse onto the bed; the dramatic arch in your back was slightly uncomfortable, but your orgasm had made your whole body a little numb so you didn’t notice.

“Want you to come too,” you sighed, desperate to make him feel even a fraction as good as he’d made you feel.

“Fuck, I will,” he warned you, “god, you feel so good, gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you sighed, “want it all in me, Chris, please…”

He followed through on his promise with a stuttered gasp, stopping his thrusts to stay buried deep in you as you felt his cock swell and flex against your walls.  Warmth spread within you as you hummed contentedly, his heavy breathing slowly stabilizing before he gently pulled out and guided you to lay beside him on the bed.

For a moment, you feared that he’d gotten what he wanted and would either toss you out or just slowly disappear from your life.  After all, he was him, and you were you, and there was something oil-and-water about it all, right?

Wrong.  He wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into him, and kissed you one more time.  You reciprocated quickly and tried not to smile too hard.

“If I say something really stupid,” he whispered when he pulled back slightly. “will you promise not to freak out?  I mean, I know it’s impossible and it doesn’t make any sense and we just met but—”

“I love you too,” you interrupted, and he smiled back at you, letting out a sigh of bemused relief.  

“Bein’ a biker’s girl isn’t easy,” he warned you, “but I’ll keep you safe, I can promise that.”

His words were just that; words.  But the way he held you tightly and kissed you deeply made you sure that he would keep his promise. 

[jiminrings]

i think stem!koo would compare himself with the other guy and start questioning if that’s more oc’s type and if he’s just the outlier. maybe even tries mimicking the other guy to see oc’s reaction… like if oc was talking to hobi and guk saw and then when they meet up a few day later oc’s like???? why are you blonde?

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

besides hoseok having the divine ability to throw pretty cool parties, it turns out he’s actually pretty cool too — too bad jungkook doesn’t know how to handle his jealousy at all.

“would you hate me?”

there’s no morning like today, really

no morning like today because all three of you woke up before 10 am

setting alarms when there are no classes is the equivalent of setting yourself up and you will not subject yourself to that!! — you wake up at like 12 pm max

yoongi would typically wake up at 4 in the morning, groggily realize that it’s iNDEED 4 in the morning, and go back to sleep — he wakes up seven hours later <3

jin’s sleeping pattern (or as what he calls un-blinking hours) fluctuates so oftenly and is therefore non-existent — he wakes up only when you wake him up!!

the three of you just started coming out of your rooms one-by-one and were in a daze looking at each other :|

no morning like today because now that the three of you woke up practically at the same exact time for an unknown reason, you asked if you can have jungkook come over for breakfast and they agreed

“do you guys mind if i invite jungkook for breakfast?”

“nah. go ahead.”

“it’s alright i understand i-?? what did you just say?”

jungkook also feels like there’s definitely something in the air this morning and it’s not weed lol

jin greeted him and yoongi nodded at him??? it felt as weird yet gratifying as a nickelodeon show crossover

all of you are immersed in casual and playful chatter in a somehow haze!! seokjin’s on autopilot preparing four (!!) bowls and yoongi’s getting the family (!!) cutlery instead of the disposable visitor ones

which is why the moment you ask a seemingly-loaded question, everyone just immediately snappeD out of it and was brought back to reality

“would you hate me?”

“never.” (jungkook fervently shakes his head no that his neck felt like it was unscrewed at one point)

“i would gaslight everyone and everything for you.” (yoongi snickers with his hands across his chest, actually thinking that he could also gaslight anything for you even if it’s an inanimate object)

“depends.” (jin carelessly shrugs as he tries to convince himself that you wouldn’t commit arson to his dream shared house with you and yoongi)

...

well they really didn’t let you finish ://

“thank you, but i didn’t mean it that way,” you snicker in thought at each of their answers, giving jungkook a grateful pat on his knee

yoongi almost scowls at that but he, along with jin, catches your incessant gaze

oh the question is meant for the two of them???

“would you hate me if i convince the two of you to split with me the cost of a canvas painting?”

a what

since wHEN are you into canvas paintings???

the two of them have their mouths slightly ajar and even jungkook’s joining in because even if he’s nOt included in this conversation, he’s also surprised???

“like an old abstract painting?” jin grimaces and therefore breaks the silence, blindly folding in his fluffy pancake mix to look at your reaction

“god, no,” you shudder already at the thought of an old painting with asbestos you can’t gauge the meaning of being hung at the large empty wall, “it’s for our dorm.”

.... oh?

they aren’t really against chipping in for an item that only yOU would benefit from, but it’s kinda exciting to think that all three of you are involved

“how big is this painting that you’re talking about?”

yoongi asks in deep thought, already thinking about nails and screws (which probably aren’t allowed) and the backup heavy-duty mounting tape

he’s curious already!!!! screw him!!!

“really?” your eyes considerably widen, looking at the teo of them, both shrugging at each other and that’s already your seal of approval!!! see!! you didn’t even have to plead :D

“A1 — that’s what the guy said. i found him on instagram!!”

yoongi narrows his eyes at you unironically, tch-ing at what you just said

“i don’t speak in barbecue sauce, y/n.”

.,.,.,...,. pls

jin snorts extra loudly because yoongi’s completely serious and not kidding at all when he only knows A1 as a goddamn brand of sauce instead of an actual measurement

“A1 means 23x33 inches in sizing, dumbass.”

the guy at the receiving end of chuckles only nods with newfound knowledge, already mapping it out

“what’s it about? i-i can chip in too if you’d like!!”

jungkook interjects sincerely, raising his hand out of classroom habit to which he sheepishly brings down

“it’s okay, koo. you don’t need to,” you reply back sincerely and effectively shut out the egging that yoongi and jin are giving him, something along the lines of “hey jungkook!! what if you pay for it whole, hm? you can come over for breakfast next time if you do.”

jungkook was really about to steal your phone and enter his card information in a sECOND if only you didn’t stop him

“the painting is to die for, y’know?” you hype it up as much as you could, holding jungkook’s hands in place so he can stop reaching for his wallet

:D

“it’s a painting of a sheep on a field, with the mountains behind it, that says atleast we’re under the same sky!!”

it’s pretty much safe to say that jin and yoongs were ready to lay down their money right then and there

neither of you can put a finger on it but it just tOUCHES your heart!! it’s a piece that pops up in your mind every now and then and feels like a fond memory while at it

“...and sent! quick too — he already gave me the payment confirmation.”

that’s nice!! not even five minutes after you sent your proof of payment and he already acknowledged it

the fact that it’s already paid for now aND is probably gonna get delivered within a matter of days is exciting, really

“i think i’d toss and turn in bed until that painting arrives,” yoongi yawns in admission, going into town with the powdered sugar on his pancakes that you physically had to stop him

“i’d save that painting first when there’s a fire,” jin snickers but it’s not that well-received, getting a pointed glare in return from yoongi, “fine. i’ll save y/n first and then the painting.”

this is your happy place :-)

your three favorite boys in the whole entire world in the sAME room!! and they’re not arguing!! there’s now dwelling in the past!!

just mediocre tolerance from yoongi and jin’s side, then half-giddiness and half-nervousness from jungkook’s side

“when it arrives, i’ll take a picture of the three of you and get it printed!”

kook offers and it earns him a ruffle on his hair, surprisingly from jin, that makes him almost chOke on the most delicious pancakes he’s ever tasted

“thank you, koo.”

jungkook’s getting used to this, actually

normally he’d expect a kiss on his cheek for his wonderful offer!! or maybe a hand on his thigh!! but he’s slowly starting to realize that you’re not always a physically affectionate lover

he’s admittedly the clingier out of the two of you but it’s okay!! right!!!!!!! it is :D

he’s sitting beside you right now on the couch anyway!! he’ll take that

yoongi, however, will nOT take it because that’s his spot and jungkook’s taking it away from him >:( he’s only noticed now out of the twenty minutes the four of you have been sitting here

he’s sneakily scraping off the powdered sugar from his pancakes and to the edge of his plate, ready to spill it on jungkook so he’d have an excuse of pushing him to the bathroom and take his spot beside you

just one more scrape and-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCKKKKKKKKKKKK-!!!!!!

literally everyone jolts with the abrupt knocking on your door and it even panics you a little

“w-who’s that?” jungkook fidgets on his seat and raises his feet on the cushions (no one can scold him bc everyone is also preoccupied) and his hand grips on your forearm out of instinct

“are you expecting anyone?” you ask jin because this may just be namjoon who’s rushing to get inside because students might see him

“no one,” he shakes his head and turns to yoongi, “this yours?”

yoongi shakes his head, his hand still clutching at his chest, “didn’t even order anything online these past two weeks.”

this is okay!! robbers don’t knock on the door, right? :-)

you make the initiative to stand up but you get tugged almost immediately by the three of them, shrugging them off as calmly as you could

“i’ll just see, alright?”

you peep on the keyhole and you relax immediately, just seeing a delivery guy with a huge package

you open the door and jungkook sputters of why the hell you would, about to skid towards you when-

“hoseok?”

is that-

is that jung hoseok??

jung hoseok as in your junior, the one who’s notoriously known for throwing the coolest parties ever?? to which he gets even the seal of approval from his seniors??

the same hoseok who threw the party wherein jungkook was ditched by jimin and you needed to walk him home? the one who threw the party wherein tae slipped outside and you needed to take him to the hospital??

tHAT hoseok????

he’s kinda cool for all of that actually

“Y/N???”

he’s just as surprised as you are, mouth actually dropping agape

the both of you are so surprised that neither of you seem to acknowledge the mammoth of a package that he’s holding

...

....

“oh my god, you’re the one who ordered my painting!!!”

hoseok actually leaps to hug you and it’s a miracle that you’re not knocked over with his sheer force, giddily jumping up and down as if embracing you is not enough

he pulls off before you could even poke at him, instead holding you by your shoulders and jostling you lightly now

jungkook’s watching the whole thing unfold and he’s still quite stuck on the couch, head tilting in confusion

why.... is hoseok.... hugging you.....

why........ are you letting him..... hug you

“oh my god!!! you’re the one!!!!! i-i thought no one would buy from me because i’m a small business and i don’t have a lot of works right now and my style is different but — yoongi!!!!”

hoseok attaches to yoongi next and the older guy just chuckles, patting him on the back

they’re not really close and no one really hugs their senior like that, most especially yoongi, but here they are

“let me guess, you’re one of the three who bought it, right?? y/n messaged me saying that she has two friends chipping in and asked me that if i could, add in some freebies!! and i did!!!”

man,, hoseok is quick

“we didn’t know you’re the one who made it,” you admit which gets a lot of nodding from both parties

“i didn’t know either that you guys were the one who bought it!” hoseok exclaims and turns his head to jin, “mr. kim!!! thank you so much!! you complete the trio, right?”

you and yoongi are bAFFLED at hoseok hugging seokjin, or rather mr. kim, aka an official of student affairs

what’s even more baffling is that jin doesn’t look surprised at all

“you two — i- uhm? i don’t-...”

“... hoseok’s my plug. our plug, actually.”

:O

hoseok doesn’t even look the least bit fazed, even nodding and laughing as he raises his hand

“i’m a business major!!”

ok wait maybe that does explain everything

jungkook’s so lost looking at the scene in front of him and frankly, he doesn’t know if he’s still included at this point

he’s frazzled when hoseok’s eyes slightly widen at the sight of him but later grin at him, looking back at you to wiggle his eyebrows

“and jungkook, is a stem major.”

it seems like no one but jungkook is surprised at hoseok’s sudden barging presence in the dorm

no one is batting an eye when he invites himself to stay and plop on the couch

“here, you can have mine.”

jungkook helplessly looks at you when you offer yOUR plate (that has one whole pancake left) to hoseok and leave him be

no one’s questioning him because after all, the three of you are busy unwrapping the package while he continues to explain

“what was i saying again? oh right!! i panicked when i saw the money transferred to my account because even if we were chatting, at first i was a littlE hesitant because like, bogus buyers amirite??” he speaks through a mouthful of pancakes, “and then you paid!! and i saw the address and tHEN i was really excited and like panicked? i didn’t want to get it shipped when you’re this near because that’s expensive!! and i wanted to thank the three of you personally!!”

“— which is why i sprinted all the way here!!”

that explains hoseok’s breathless and sweaty state, the whole tale of him bumping into the dean at one point and almost stomping on a pigeon making everyone entertained

everyone besides jungkook.

is it just him or is everyone’s eye twitching right now

is this his dorm? no. but does he feel like hoseok’s intruding, regardless if he lives in here or in the perspective of a fellow visitor? yes.

apparently, nONE out of the three of you seem to think so

because it’s all so good!! hoseok probably lives in your dorm too because why else would you give up your breakfast for him??

the three of you are actively fawning over the painting and jungkook’s just sO sure that it’s giving hoseok the biggest ego boost of his life ://

they just share a class or two, they aren’t really close anyways

hoseok’s the type to be intimidating and popular at the same time but surprisingly, he’s friendly in a way

ok maybe jungkook’s just getting a little over in his head rn

if he leaves, then it’s also hoseok’s time to leave!!!

he’s already practicing the words in his head

“come on hoseok, they’re the furthest thing away from being done at fawning. let’s walk together back to the dorms.”

he’s about to say it when-

“anyone have a headband i can borrow?”

hoseok asks aloud and effectively catches everyone’s attention, making you stand up in agreement

what the fuck is actually happening

jungkook watches you hand one of the headbands you wear during your games to hoseok, a guy you barely know, like it’s no big deal?????

that headband smells like your hair!!! the hair that he loves to bury his nose into and plays with!!!

that’s yours and you’re giving it to hIM?

jungkook’s stomach actually drops even if he just finished eating minutes ago, ina daze looking at hoseok putting it on his blonde hair

he doesn’t know what’s stemming from his heart nor what his tummy’s telling him, but jungkook doesn’t like it at all.

“i’m going home,” kook murmurs behind you who’s instructing yoongi and jin to level the painting some more, snaking his arm around your waist

“really? oh, okay. text me when you get home.”

you only sweetly smile at him and jungkook’s actually awaiting the offer of you walking him home, but it doesn’t come

that’s okay!

“bye. love you.”

he softly says yet it’s enough for everyone to hear, his hand still secured snugly on your waist

jungkook’s about to go for a kiss on your cheek because he’s sURE that both yoongi and jin would scowl at him if he took it any further, but he catches hoseok at the corner of his eye and it’s all out the door

he unexpectedly presses a chaste kiss on your lips and playfully drags out the mwah! at the end, much to the daggers your friends send him

that’s enough!! hoseok already saw — you’re taken by him. jungkook doesn’t need to worry now that hoseok knows :)

...

....

...... he may have spoken too soon

he’s already established that you’re taken by him, that’s great! even hoseok teases him when they see each other the next day

was that an ego boost? yes

what wasn’t an ego boost is seeing hoseok talking to him and parading the halls with your headband on!!

that’s yOUR headband!!! not his!!! what happened to merely borrowing it?

did he just happen to steal it from you, or did you just let him steal it from you?

:(

jungkook positively thinks that’s the end of this whole heart-clenching

hoseok has your headband but jungkook has you. it’s clear who’s actually winning in life

but god is jungkook wrong again

he texted you in the same morning on what you were doing since you had your classes cancelled for today with no professors coming in

going to brunch with hobi instead of sleeping all day. jin’s in the office and yoongi’s out on grocery duty. have fun w your classes :)

Hobi???

Uhm I literally just passed him in the halls two minutes ago

really? lmao that means he’s skipping class then

no because hold on

hoseok’s sKIPPING class to go to brunch with you?

you’re going to brunch with him???

HOBI?????

jungkook uncomfortably tucks his phone back into his pocket as class starts, chewing at his bottom lip

do you want him to skip classes so he could go to brunch with you?

better yet, is hoseok better than him because it’s no problem for him to skip classes??

now that he thinks about it, jungkook hasn't skipped even a single day of classes ever since freshman year

he used to take pride on his attendance but now he uh kinda wants a blank mark on his card actually

he could go to lengths of skipping classes if you asked him to!! he can!! of course he'll do that for you

but you don't ask him to and it's obvious that you only learned now how hoseok's able to meet you in the first place, but the reason behind it didn't seem to faze you

in fact, it looks like you're even amused

jungkook has to physically shake his head to get rid of his thoughts but that doesn't do anything

he's still thinking about you and hoseok during class.

he's trying not to dwell on it but it's difficult when he's always reminded of it

every time he comes over, the painting is GLARING at him and that's the reason jungkook just keeps his eyes on you for literally the whole time that he's there

your phone sometimes dings and it's a tiktok notification of hoseok sending you one

everything he does, hoseok and his outrageously blonde hair just seems to follow him

you had cat fur on the sleeve of your hoodie because you pet the campus cat awhile ago and jungkook was about to shriek because even that reminded him of the guy

all he's done this week is become bothered and frustrated to the point that even jimin, oftenly the most clueless and easy-going guy in the room, noticed it

"trouble in paradise?"

jimin's cool voice is the first thing that snaps him out of his anti-hoseok tirade in his mind, his eyes landing on his roommate lazily

it's actually jimin's red hair that makes jungkook look twice because when he saw him in the morning, he was still blonde

....,.,. blonde....?

"jimin?"

"hmm? am i right? is it rEALLY trouble in-"

"remember that time you ditched me in hoseok's party? or that time i made your paper because you forgot and you were hung-over and then you ended up getting an A?"

jimin's head tilts at jungkook's enumeration, blinking owlishly at him

".... yeah?"

"good," jungkook nods in acknwoledgement at jimin's recall, "because i think i'm gonna cash in the favors that you owe me."

:O

it's pouring

it hasn't rained in so long and it's raining sO hard that you might have to look for a candle later on

it was on the news anyway that it was gonna rain this hard but no one really expected that it'd be this hard!!

nonetheless, jungkook soothed your worries and said he'd come over because the two of you haven't seen each other in like three days

maybe it's just you but something feels off with jungkook

oddly, he's gotten a little bit more attached to you yet weirdly distant at the same time

for some reason, he asks a lot more questions too

just yesterday, he sent you a screenshot of a white polo, asked if it looked good, and proceeded to immediately purchase it once you said it looked nice

just because you don't frequently comment on what you notice, doesn't exactly mEAN you don't care about it

jungkook's a big boy!! an adult!! if he wants to say something to you, then he says it

he always has the words in his head, that much you know

but yOU, however.,.,.,

you really don't have the words right now

because as soon as you open the door, your eyes land on your boyfriend

your boyfriend in his usual hoodie who's been growing out his hair and is looking very much blonde and different

“you’re blonde?”

you rhetorically ask in shock and you're clueless to the fact that you look like a fish out of water, your hands unconsciously darting out to his chest

“hmm, you like it?”

jungkook hums and tries to keep the giddiness he feels at bay just seeing you look gobsmacked, your hands moving from his collarbones to his neck and finally, to his hair

you offer no answer because you find yourself kissing jungkook before you could even let him in and close the door

he mewls in satisfaction when you kiss him deeper and cup his cheeks, his hands finding no hesitance in pushing your bodies closer by the waist

"my handsome boy," you mumble at one point in the kiss, eternally grateful that the two of you are the only one in the dorm right now

jungkook preens at your attention, mumbling to your lips before he makes the move to kiss you determinedly

“you like me better than hoseok?”

in a single second, he doesn't feel you kissing back at all

he's so confused as he pulls away, dark brows, in contrast to his blonde hair, knitted in confusion

“quit it.”

there's no actual edge to your tone but you feel like it, an incoming realization starting to dawn on you

jungkook's oblivious to your boiling irritation, clueless to how the dots are connecting in your mind and how you're not sure on how to tackle them

“what did i do? i was just asking you if you like me better than him.”

he says nonchalantly and it's the tone that irks you — as if his seemingly harmless question didn't reveal what he really wanted to get at

“i’m with you, jungkook. has that not been established enough yet?”

your voice is still calm yet you trudge away from him, your boyfriend quick on his heels to trail behind you

“i mean you did kiss me on the mouth just now,” jungkook points out as if you weren't aware. “because i’m blonde just like hoseok.”

“oh my god."

it was just a strong hunch at first but hearing it first-hand from jungkook accelerates your sentiment for what he did even faster, your eyes rolling to the back of your head that rubs him the wrong way

he runs his hand through his hair out of habit, reminding you even more that it's bleached and blonde yet for all the wrong intentions

“is asking you so wrong? why are you getting defensive?”

you snicker at his inquiry, hands across your chest that just challenges him to do the same

“what’s wrong is that you dyed your hair blonde for no other reason besides the fact that hoseok is!”

now that jungkook hears it from you, his eyes narrow

“can’t i just be inspired?” he snaps, “can’t i be inspired to look this way because you look at him in that way?”

what?

wHAT????

“what way, jungkook?”

seemingly caught in a blindspot, he tries to backtrack

“i-i’m not-“

you're having none of it and to be honest, you're not even sure if it just pure anger that you're feeling at the moment

“you spent hours in a salon, is that it?" you prod him and that makes jungkook avoid your eyes, huffing under his breath, "got jimin to help you out?" that actually hits a nerve on him and makes his eyes zero in on you with much annoyance, "what did you go through just because you’re so inspired?”

“you look at hoseok like you’re in love with him!”

“i’m not in love with hoseok, jungkook!" you articulate every word but even that seems to anger jungkook further, "why would you even think of that?”

“because you’re only supposed to look at me that way. y-you’re not supposed to go to brunch with a guy alone when you just met him. you’re not supposed to lend him your headbands when he can just buy them! you’re not supposed to do the things you’d do with me with other guys!”

“he’s my friend. just like yoongi and jin are. i can do these things with them but that doesn’t mean i love you any less.”

jungkook rolls his eyes and even your profession of love doesn't budge him at all

“there you are with your guy friends again.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

you feel him treading to dangerous territory but you stand your ground regardless, your voice shaking when you add

“yoongi and jin came into my life way before you did, jungkook.”

it was to simply remind him but he feels as if it's out of spite, looking at you pointedly before patronizingly chuckling

“i know. i can never win with you, that’s it, right? just because you’re older than me by a year and you have friends that want to beat me up — you always win!”

his voice raises by the end of his sentence and it's his words that make you grind your teeth together and your nostrils flare, lip dangerously close to trembling

“i’m sorry if i’m jealous and i don’t know what to do because this is the first time i’ve become a boyfriend, alright?"

jungkook throws his head back and gestures to you, shaking his head while he's so close to crying because of his pent-up insecurity

“i’m sorry that i don’t know what to do and you always do because you probably had like ten boyfriends before me, right?? i’m so inexperienced and new to you that you can’t even stand me and-“

..

there's pin-drop silence in the room.

jungkook only realizes his words belatedly and the weight that they carry, eyes in a stand-still on you who looks the furthest thing from being appeased at him

you're actually hurt.

“how dare you, jungkook.”

your fists are balled to the point that the tips of your fingers feel numb from the pause in circulation, but oddly enough, jungkook feels the most remorseful when he sees your figure deflate and therefore relax

“don’t come home, it’s pouring. or go back to your dorm, whatever. i don’t care.”

he's planted by his feet but he realizes to move when you're walking out of your own dorm, prying away his hand from your elbow

“you can sleep in my room. i’m sleeping out tonight.”

.

.

.

part two

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[chenziee]

I hate you

@lawluevents 10 Days of Lawlu 2022 Day 5: Captain’s quarters/Soulmates

Alternate summary: “ If I had 100 beri every time you almost died on my fucking sub, I'd have 300 beri. That's not much but three times? THREE FUCKING TIMES?! What the actual fuck, Mugiwara-ya?"

[ READ ON AO3 |  FULL SERIES | KO-FI ]

----------

Watching Luffy lie in his bed, flipping through one of Law's thick medical books out of boredom and commenting on the pictures—the only things he could understand in there—Law couldn’t help but feel annoyance nagging at him at the back of his mind.

This was getting ridiculous. The time after the Summit War was one thing. Back then, Law was the one who came to him, he was the one who took him on board of the Tang and decided to treat him on a whim.

But then this idiot went and let Kaido throw him into the sea. It was incredibly lucky that Law’s crew still hadn’t come ashore at that point, picking him up and saving him. If they had pulled him out any later, he would have died and no one would be able to do anything about it.

And now…

“Torao, why are you frowning like that? I’m being careful with your book!” Straw Hat whined, looking at Law with a huge pout on his lips.

Law stared back at him blankly for a moment, hoping in vain that Luffy might actually put it together by himself but then he sighed deeply. “Three times, Straw Hat-ya. Three times you almost died on my goddamned sub.”

At that, Straw Hat laughed of all things. “Hey, but I'm fine, right? You treated me all good!”

“That’s not the point!” Law snapped.

But, in the face of Luffy’s wide grin and his quiet snicker, all energy left Law’s body. There was no point arguing with this idiot, was there? He would just laugh all of Law’s complaints away as if ending up in the OR was an everyday experience.

…Actually, in his case, it might as well be.

“I can’t believe how reckless you can be. That was a navy Admiral you threw yourself at, it’s a miracle you’re alive,” Law said, too tired to even bother to try and sound annoyed anymore.

For a moment, Luffy’s face turned serious as he regarded Law before that damn adorable pout made it on his face again. “Well, if I didn’t, you would have been hit with that laser beam.”

Clicking his tongue, Law stood up from his chair, crossing the short distance to his bed to stand right above Straw Hat, he narrowed his eyes at him before flicking his forehead. He took great pleasure in the way Straw Hat yelped, slapping both his hands to the hurting area as he rolled around on the bed.

“Not fair! You shouldn’t use haki on the injured!” he whined.

“What would be the point if you didn’t even feel it?” Law asked flatly. “Stop being a brat.”

Luffy threw Law a dirty look but then his face split in that stupid grin that spelled nothing but trouble. However, before Law could even take a step back, one of Luffy’s hands shot out to grab at Law’s wrist tightly.

“What are you—” Law barely managed to get out before there was a harsh tug on his arm.

And just like that, Law was falling… straight on top of Luffy.

“Oww!”

Law groaned. “That’s what you get for having stupid ideas,” he grumbled trying to ignore the way Straw Hat squirmed below him in pain.

“I’m… sorry…” Luffy gasped.

“I swear if you reopened your wound, I’m just going to leave you to bleed out,” Law said with annoyance.

“Sorry,” Luffy apologised again, voice a lot softer this time.

Law sighed before he finally moved, slowly extracting himself from the mess of limbs the two of them now made; despite his previous threats, he made sure not to mess up Luffy’s injuries any further. After all, if he could help it, he really would have preferred not having to deal with bloody sheets and a dead boyfriend.

“You’re such a handful,” he growled, shooting Luffy a look.

The other man just met his eyes and grinned, patting the bed next to him in invitation before he opened his mouth to reply, “Maybe so, but you looked like you need a hug.”

Law was seriously tempted to hit him. But when Luffy’s hand came to grab at his arm, pulling him gently towards himself… Law could do nothing but comply. It was simply impossible to say no to those eyes—not like Luffy would ever take no for an answer anyway.

And so, Law reluctantly crawled into his bed, resting his back against the headboard next to Luffy. Immediately, Luffy rolled over, turning to his side to throw an arm around Law’s stomach at the same time as one of his legs came to rest between Law’s own, tangling their limbs together. He was acting like a rubbery koala and Law…

Despite himself, Law was relieved.  

Relieved to feel his warmth, to feel his heart beating Law’s chest, at the same rhythm as Law’s own did in Luffy’s chest. Calm.

Safe.

Alive.  

Taking a deep breath, Law felt himself relax. Gently, he let his hand rest on top of Luffy’s head, his fingers running slowly through his soft strands of hair. “Don’t do it again,” he whispered.

Luffy grinned, leaning into his touch. “No promises.”

Law clicked his tongue, tugging on Straw Hat’s hair lightly. “I hate you.”

A snicker leaving his lips, Luffy peered up at Law with his big, honest eyes and replied, voice soft, “I hate you, too.”

At that, Law chuckled. He couldn’t help it; Straw Hat was just too cute. Law leaned down, meeting Luffy half-way as they kissed slowly, all their unspoken feelings poured into the gentle touch.

“Get some rest,” Law muttered against Luffy’s lips once they pulled away from each other minutely.

“Only if you do. Your panda eyes are terrible,” Luffy replied, sticking his tongue out at him.

“And whose fault is that?” Law asked with a roll of his eyes.

Yet, he still moved, shuffling down to lie in the bed next to Luffy properly. A little nap couldn’t hurt, right?

----------

“What are you two doing?” Ikkaku asked, taking in the sight of Penguin and Shachi squatting on the ground in front of the Captain’s Quarters, their faces buried in their hands. There was even a connected transponder snail on the ground next to them.

“The Captain told me to call Nami and let her know Straw Hat’s condition,” Penguin said, his voice sounding completely dead. “She wants to talk to them about the meeting point.”

“And he asked me to let him know when we surface,” Shachi added, sounding equally lifeless.

Ikkaku raised an eyebrow, her gaze switching between the two of them, the snail, and the door to the Captain’s room. Were they… actually serious?

She sighed, pointing at the door that was right there. “You know you can just knock on this thing, right?”

“We can’t!” the both of them cried in unison, looking at Ikkaku with eyes full of despair.

Taken aback, Ikkaku finally asked, “What happened?”  

Shachi and Penguin exchanged a look before Penguin opened his mouth to reply, “They’re being embarrassing again.”

Ikkaku blinked once, twice, before a groan made it past her lips. “Seriously? How long has it been? Just get used to it already.”

“Impossible,” Shachi shuddered at the idea.

“Impossible,” Penguin echoed as he nodded his head seriously. “I don’t care if they’ve found a soulmate in each other or whatever. Some of us are lonely here, okay?! No need to rub it in!”

Face-palming, Ikkaku grabbed the snail off the floor before shooting her crewmates a disappointed look. “Babies,” she sighed.

Ikkaku smirked when he heard Nami speak up on the other side of the snail connection, “Glad to see someone on your crew has balls.”

“I know, right?” Ikkaku agreed, prompting the other woman to laugh.

Ignoring Shachi and Penguin’s weak protests at their comments, Ikkaku turned to face the door before knocking sharply. “Captain, Straw Hat! I need to talk to you and I am not opening this door myself!”

“Ohhhh,” the two men on the floor let out.

“That’s so smart. Just force one of them to come and open it! You’re a genius!” Shachi said, impressed, wide eyes staring up at Ikkaku.

“Are you an idiot?” Ikkaku asked, but before either of them could say or do anything, a thin, see through film ran through the hallway.

And only a second later, the snail in Ikkaku’s hand disappeared, replaced by an impossibly thick and heavy medical book as the Captain’s voice came from the inside. “Thanks. Once Bepo cools down, we’re going back under. And tell those two idiots to just knock next time.”

“You heard the man,” Ikkaku said with a smirk on her lips, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Fuck off,” Shachi groaned before his head fell into his hands again.

Ikkaku simply laughed, tossing the heavy book into Penguin’s lap before she walked away, leaving the two to die of embarrassment.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Ch. 4

18 + Minors DNI Please Check Rules Before You Follow

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader (brief reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut, allusion to nausea (once), brief sacrilegious language (dabi), mentions of alcohol (dabi), mentions of smoking (dabi), dabi is just a whole warning of his own, gender neutral pronouns for reader, fem cause they're called a woman as an insult, Shiggy is an asshole, grinding, degradation,

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which a project is completed and a new one begins

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged)

Your project was almost complete.

In some ways, it sort of felt like the end of an era. To Tomura, who was a creature of habit by nature, it was doubly strange to imagine no longer spending hours a few days each week locked away in your little study room with you bugging him to teach you simple html and him not-so-discreetly sniffing your hair.

He still hadn’t asked you out or whatever he’d been trying to do, much to Dabi’s chagrin. And because of this, Tomura was consistently plagued with the feeling of time running out.

You were supposed to meet today for probably the last time seeing as the presentation was coming up at the end of the week. He knew it was now or never at this point. If he didn’t fucking say something now, he never would and then he’d have to live with the same his roommate wouldn’t let him live down.

So instead of heading directly to the library after class, Tomura took the old route back to his apartment and shot you a quick text—praying to the fucking boner gods, as Dabi called them, that you’d take the bait.

would you mind putting the finish touches on shit at my place?—

there’s some parts i gotta do from my desktop—

That wasn’t completely a lie. It was nicer working from his pc setup, but before he wouldn’t have let you come anywhere fucking near there. Not until he’d finally accepted that you’d wormed your way into his brain somehow and he couldn’t live another day not knowing what your tongue tasted like.

bitch (endearing):

—no problem

—what’s your address?

Tomura’s heart fucking pounded mercilessly against the bony prison of his ribs. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to some good old fashioned anxiety, but he’d never felt a strange stirring in his stomach quite like this. Like he might puke, but in a good way.

He quickly sent back his street and apartment number, and waited on the corner until you texted back that you’d be there in an hour before he rushed inside.

“What the hell are you doing, creep?!” Dabi snapped at him when he burst through the door and yeeted his backpack onto the kitchen table.

Tomura didn’t answer, just made a beeline for the bathroom and slammed the door. He doused himself in record time, unbothered by the hot water causing red, patchy flare ups to bloom over his skin. He was almost disgusted with himself for putting in this much effort for someone like you. Someone being definitely kind of a slut if the way you dressed was a good indicator. But he just kept thinking about the way your hair or skin smelled so goddamn good when you leaned in close and he wanted you to be obsessed with him in the same way. Wanted you to want to bury your face in his neck and breath him in.

When he stumbled out into the hall moments later, towel drying his hair roughly, Dabi was taking a shot over the sink.

He looked at Tomura like hell had frozen over.

“Two showers in like a month?” he mused, sucking his teeth as the alcohol slid down his throat. “What’s the occasion? The fucking, second coming of Christ?”

“Well the bitch is coming over so…”

“Oh, that is a fucking miracle,” Dabi whistled and knocked back a second shot.

Tomura glared, stepping into his room and tossing his towel aside to tug on his nicest pair of black joggers and t-shirt that gapped a bit at the front, showing off a large expanse of his chest. It made him a bit nervous even just looking at his reflection but you definitely stared the few times he’d taken off his hoodie while you were working, so the risk seemed worth the reward.

“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to piss off for the night,” Tomura shouted into the kitchen as Dabi sauntered over to lean against his doorframe.

“You know, I conveniently do have a dick appointment with my own bitch, but now I don’t want to go.”

His tone was teasing, eyes hooded and clearly enjoying how flustered Tomura was already before you’d even gotten here. Tomura moved to snatch another pillow and do battle but Dabi raised his hands up quickly in defeat.

“Oh no, no, I just fucking did my hair for this Keigo asshole you are not gonna ruin it with that petty shit,” he shot back and disappeared somewhere into his own room. “I’ll be out of your greasy ass hair don’t worry.”

Tomura seethed and bit back of reply of his hair for once not being greasy as hell, but the multiple cum stains—both his and his nasty fucking roommates—marring the comforter caught his eye.

“Ugh,” he mumbled and balled the whole thing up, shoving it under the bed and spreading out one of his merch blankets from that manga you both liked.

Hopefully you wouldn’t think that was too cringey, but he had definitely seen your room plastered with merch in the background of your social media profiles which he totally did not stalk at all and maybe jerk off to on occasion.

The rest of his room was quickly cleared by a combination of shoving random crap into his closet and filling up their recycling bin to the brim with empty energy drink cans. He tackled the kitchen next which wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. Neither he nor Dabi cooked all that frequently, so the dishes weren’t an issue and the vague, lingering smell of whatever the fuck Dabi had been smoking early was cleared out a bit by leaving the balcony door ajar.

He checked the time on his phone obsessively, about ready to pound on Dabi’s door and throw him out on the step when the man in question emerged on his own—black platform boots donned with his ass hugging ripped jeans and a loose tank top.

He had on fucking eyeliner.

God and he thought Tomura was being desperate.

“What? Wishing you’d locked this down first?” Dabi sneered, grabbing his jacket from the rack and shoulder checking Tomura on his way to the door.

“I—” he stammered for a second, bristling as Dabi towered over him a bit in those fucking boots. “No, asshole, just leave before they get here.”

But at the exact moment that Dabi rolled his eyes and flung open the door, Tomura’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Looking up in mingled horror and embarrassment, he watched the door hit the wall and reveal you, a little more casually dressed than usual looking stunned as Dabi grinned down at you with pierced lips.

“Hi, I’m-” you started but Tomura’s live-in nightmare cut you off.

“Oh I know who you are, dollface,” Dabi wiggled his fucking eyebrows at you, clearly playing up the dramatics as much as possible to a degree even Tomura didn’t think he could pull off. “Name’s Dabi—”

“Uh, yeah and he was just leaving,” Tomura hissed and placed his shoulder firmly in the center of his roommate’s back, launching him onto the welcome mat as you side-stepped through the door.

“Yeah, see ya later creep,” he fucking winked as the door slammed shut in his face.

Tomura’s cheeks burned in the following silence which was only broken by your quiet chuckle. He noticed you did that a lot. Laughed at things without even thinking about whether it would sound weird.

“He seems like a lot,” you mumbled and glanced around at the living room/kitchen/foyer of his tiny apartment.

“Yeah…”

He thought he might feel the same sort of disturbance he usually did when Dabi brought his dates home but you seemed to fit easily into the space, unobtrusive but bright against the dingy walls.

“So, should we get to it?” you asked with a wry smile, spinning to face him and silhouetted by the sun set filtering in past the balcony.

He may not have felt the usual discomfort of intruders in his space, but his hands shook where he clutched at his thighs nonetheless. And just like always, if you noticed the bunched up fabric and the not so slight tremor in his bony arms, you didn’t say a thing about it.

You looked so good propped up on his bed, back against the wall and legs dangling off the sides as the now strangely comforting sound of your furious typing filled his room. It had been a few hours now, and Dabi had been true to his word, seemingly gone until tomorrow morning. The room was illuminated only by your screens and his small desk lamp that lit up your legs like a stage spot light.

His mind fogged over more than once with the fantasy of laying in between them.

“I just shared the final bit of script,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

The notification pinged at the top of his screen and he hummed in acknowledgement, plugging in your last pieces of text and saving the program.

And just like that.

It was over.

“I think we’re done,” Tomura whispered.

He didn’t really mean to say it so softly, but it felt strange to talk at full volume so he rasped out the words, knowing you wouldn’t care how shitty his voice sounded.

There was a creak and soft footsteps behind him as you shuffled off the bed and over to his desk. Your hands rested way too close to his shoulders than necessary while you leaned over his chair to look at the finished product.

It was still a little rough around the edges but Tomura found himself feeling a swell of satisfaction now that it was complete. All things considered, you’d come up with a pretty damn good concept and he liked knowing he played a role in helping it come to fruition.

The piece you picked was weird as shit. Some political satire about eating babies, lots of juxtaposition about the private life versus the public self and some bullshit rants on the nature of humanity blah blah blah.

It actually reminded him of you a little bit, now that he thought about it as he took advantage of you position to stare intently at your eyes scanning the screen. Not the eating babies thing, but the whole private self stuff.

In the half semester he’d spent locked away with you in quiet rooms and noisy, dimly lit basements, he could see such a stark contrast between the you he’d known from class all those weeks ago and the you currently sighing in relief over his shoulder.

Softer, more real—not so Stacy, bimbo, pick me slut like he’d always imagined you to be.

“Damn, we did it my guy,” you nodded, clearly impressed with yourself and him as well, which had Tomura’s chest puffing out just a bit under the attention. “I could fucking kiss you, I thought we’d never get it done.”

You turned to him, eyes closed in a half laugh but Tomura was so far from laughing. Cause you were really, really fucking close and he could smell you again and you’d been chewing that fucking gum cause it was hot on your breath. He knew, he really did, that you were kidding, that this was just a thing people said when they were relieved but he couldn’t help the weird, deer in the headlights stare that his face froze in.

Blinking, you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly when he didn’t make some crude comment about your chest brushing against his arm or shrug you off like he might have before.

And then you got this knowing, little mischievous look that reminds him far too much of Dabi for a split second before you pressed your face just an inch closer.

His eyes flicked down instinctively to your lips and his face burned when realized there was no way you didn’t see how he looked at you. Shockingly, despite the churning in his gut and the shaking in his legs, Tomura leaned forward just a bit too, working up enough scant courage to maybe close the gap. But then you started laughing?

It bubbled up quietly in your chest, more of a giggle than anything else.

You were laughing and shaking your head and his stomach fucking dropped to the ground and his face was on fire cause you were laughing and that meant he’d been fucking played like a goddamn fiddle but—

But then you gave him this faint smile and you weren't laughing anymore, because you were kissing him.

You were fucking kissing him.

Which, while yes he had set out to have this be the end goal of the night, he hadn’t actually believed it would ever happen. He’d never felt it in his bones like he thought he was supposed to.

And holy shit your lips were so soft??

So soft and smooth with no cool, sharp metal poking or pulling at the splits on his. It was like fucking crack, or what he imagined crack might be like with the way your mouth just glided against his. It was so easy to follow you, which was good cause he didn’t have a goddamn clue what he was doing for the most part. But you made it feel simple, and you even ran your tongue over the little scar that bisected his lips in this painfully adorable way that had Tomura pitching a tent in his pants like lightning.

God and when you pulled back and just enough to look at him again:

It was like every one of those cutesy, shojo manga suddenly made sense. The panels where the main characters look at each other and flowers bloom off the fucking page while they stare with those dark, hungry eyes—

Yeah.

Yeah he got it now.

And he was gonna ride that wave while he had it. So Tomura steeled himself and surged forward, grabbing both your arms and smashing his face much less gracefully against yours. He stood and you straightened with him, that same half giggle slipping out in the gaps where your lips parted on his as he clacked your teeth together and pulled back at the jarring sting.

“Eager are we?” you had that stupid smile on your face again but he honestly didn’t care anymore if it was an act or if your face really just looked like that with no fucking ulterior motive.

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to catch your lips again and you mercifully let him.

Tomura nearly fucking came in his pants when you licked into his mouth and oh fucking god he really could taste the gum and that loud ass shit you were always drinking. Dabi was right, this was a fucking miracle.

Did other people always taste this good or was it just you?

He responded enthusiastically to say the least, sucking your tongue into his mouth and letting out a choked little noise when you prodded the back of his teeth. The movement of your legs, pulling him back towards the bed went mostly unnoticed until he felt himself tipping forward, landing with a thump on top of you as you both tumbled onto his mattress.

Tomura’s lips wondered boldly down your throat, smelling the soap or lotion or whatever the hell made you so fucking baby smooth compared to him and he actually growled into your nape when you laughed again.

“God, what the fuck is so funny?” he sounded muffled from where he was tonguing at the fleshy joining of your neck and shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry,” you pressed your lips against the peeling crown of his head and that alone made up for the interruption, “I’m just basking in the glory of being right.”

“About?” Tomura nipped at your skin once before lifting his chin to rest on your sternum.

“I just always thought you were sorta into me, but it was hard to tell cause you’re so quiet about that kinda thing.”

“....oh,” he didn’t really have an argument for that so he didn’t try to fight you.

“Did you think I didn’t notice all the convenient excuses to touch me or like the fact that you’re mean as shit to everyone else but me?" you asked not unkindly as you stroked a hand through his hair, frizzy from being left to air dry. “I also got the vibes you thought I was a slut anyway and it wasn’t super clear if that was a turn on or not.”

He cringed a bit at the blatant way you acknowledged all ruder inner monologues about your character.

“Well, I did a bit initially,” Tomura glanced off to the side, suddenly finding the chipping paint much more fascinating. God he really wanted to get back to the good stuff. “But I don’t now…”

“Oh no,” you cupped his face, running a thumb against the cracked skin on his cheeks and didn’t cringe when the drying skin flaked onto your shirt, “that was a pretty astute assumption.”

“Uh, what?”

He felt his draw drop and you dipped your thumb past his front row of teeth, toying with the pooling saliva.

“All the better for you though,” you continued dragging his chest against yours so he could feel your nipples through his shirt, “cause that just means I know how to show you a good time, and I get the feeling you’ve never had that happen before.”

You punctuated your words with roll of your hips against the fucking iron rod in his pants. The noise that left Tomura was inhuman.

He thought back to the day you got partnered with him. How he thought it would be a fucking nightmare and Tomura wanted to let the record show that he officially retracted that statement. This was in no uncertain terms, actually a wet dream come true and he was sure Dabi would never fucking believe him unless he walked through the door right now.

“That works,” he stuttered around the finger in his mouth and you reared up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Your lips found his again and he hummed in approval only cut off as you rolled so he was laying back and looking up. When you pulled back, he shivered at the way you raked your nails over his chest.

“So, you gonna tell me how much of a disgusting whore you think I am?”