#saw this man not think twice about messing w/ the thing in the center of a never ending storm and fell in love instantly

[southern--downpour]

finally caught up on @comicaurora and predictably my favorite character is still this smug bastard

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 9

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,756

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:

Oh dear lord I'm slow at getting these out. Life's been kickin' my ass lately. But thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback on my stuff, I really love to hear from you guys!

Taglist: 

(So sorry, I forgot when I originally posted!) 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes​

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Two months. You've been "missing" for two months now. The days flew by, your time occupied by quirk training Shigaraki insisted on but never told you why. The times you tried to ask he'd brush it off, or say something like:

"So you don’t throw another fit." His words were harsh but he said them with a flat and bored tone. Like it was a poorly acted line.

So now you had better control. You could move things on command, you knew basic combat, you certainly knew how to kick Dabi's ass by now, that didn't take too long. You were being allowed more and more freedom. Even allowed to leave for a convenience store runs with Toga once or twice. No one policed you, told you what you could and could not do anymore. You could have easily ran away by now. You supposed they really didn't need you either. For their plan to work all they would need was some blood and Toga could easily pass as you.

That idea sent a shiver down your spine. You're sure Shigaraki has thought of that already, so why hadn't he? Why was he training you? Would he use your quirk against the heroes in some way? Was he grooming you to turn and fight your father? You wouldn't. No matter what you wouldn't fight your father. Would you? You shook yourself of this thought as you walked down the ally to the back door of the hide out.

Toga unlocked the door and you stepped in, greeted by a dark and dingy back room. You made your way through the dark halls, following closely behind her as she led you up the stairs that finally led to the parts of the building with power. Soon you found yourself walking to the familiar living space where a few people rested. Dabi laid himself out on one of the couches, Spinner sat fiddling with his burner phone, and Twice had started yelling at the TV before you arrived.

"Luuuunch!" Toga shouted. Toga was often used as the errand girl, she brought back necessary supplies, oftentimes food. Today Toga asked you to tag along and help out, and there wasn't a single objection to the hostage going out on the town. You sat the heavy bags down on the coffee table, taking out the contents as you spoke.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Mr. Compress was sent on an errand of his own. And Shigaraki's probably pouting in his room. He'll come out when he's hungry." Dabi groaned as he took his meal from your hand.

"Oh. I'll just bring it to him." You said, absent-minded. All eyes turned to you, looking confused and shocked. "What?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just-"

"He doesn't like to be disturbed." Toga and Twice spoke. You paused and looked at the box in your hand. It would get cold if he didn't eat soon, and besides, none of you had had much to eat lately, you were sure he was hungry. You knew you were.

"I'll just leave it at the door and knock. It'll get cold and then he'll be in an even worse mood." You told them. They watched you turn and walk up the stairs to his "room". You stood in front of the door, with such thin walls you could hear furious typing on the other side. Loud clicking of a mouse, and the sound of a computer's fan. You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Suddenly the sounds abruptly stopped, followed by a bark.

"What!?"

"Foods here." You called back. You heard footsteps on the other side growing louder and louder until the door flew open. You stared up at the tall man as he looked down on you. His hair hung over his face, his eyes hardly visible. Your heart rate quickened the longer you looked at him. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Give it to me." He held out his hand, his pinky holding out in preparation to receive the box.

"You said you liked spice stuff, right?" You asked as you placed it in his hand.

"Yeah."

"We got you their spicy special. I hope it's not too much. The sign said 'caution' on it." He scoffed at you, turning the box and looking at the writing on it. He fell very quiet. Inspecting the box, you suddenly worried that something was wrong with it. That maybe you'd messed up somehow. But before your anxiety could reach its peak-

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft. You could hardly hear him. Then before you could respond he closed the door and left you alone again. Did he really say that? You never heard him say that to anyone. Granted, you hardly knew him but still, the way he said it, it made you feel... special in some way. You shook yourself from your train of thought and shuffled down the hallway, pausing when you heard movement and the door to Shigaraki's room open. You froze.

"Wait a minute." He barked. You turned too look at him. He hung out of the doorway to stare at you.

"W-What?" You asked. Shigaraki had a way of making people feel like they were in trouble. His ability to easily become an authority figure was something you were beginning to understand now.

"You...went out?" You nodded. He paused and looked away, his eyes shifting as the gears spun in his head. He turned back into his room as he spoke, "come here for a second." He asked. You slowly made your way to his room, the door left wide for you to peak inside. A dark room lit by portable light fixtures and a laptop computer which sat on an old desk. A cot thrown to the corner covered by the same old and tattered blankets the rest of you had.

"Am I... in trouble?" You croaked.

"What? No. Close the door behind you, you'll let in a draft." He ordered, seeming genuinely confused by your question. You closed the door behind you, leaving you completely alone with him in his space. Your heart raced.

You watched him turn and look up at the wall which he had decorated with plans. Pictures of heroes and villains cut out and pinned. Newspaper clippings, printed out articles and research essays. He was planning something, but what it was was difficult to determine. You did notice however, a cut out of an empty figure with your name on it pinned to the center of it all. You stared at it for a second before he broke you from your train of thought.

"Well?"

"Huh!?"

"What do you think?" He asked. His attention turned to his meal, he picked at it, taking a few bites.

"Of what?"

"...the plan." You looked back at the wall, puzzled you tried your best to gain any sort of information from it. Only being able to find bits and pieces. You knew it involved you, your father, and the take down of hero society. A cut out piece of article said something about the rise of villains, that more and more people were turning to villain work. How those rates have a correlation with classes. You slowly turned back to look at him.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to explain this to me." You told him. He rolled his eyes and stood, directing his attention to his work as he spoke.

"This is the second part of the plan."

"What was the first?"

"Taking you as a hostage."

"Right. But, didn't you say the plan was to expose the heroes after they weren't able to rescue me and not only expose the faulty heroes but also my father as a neglectful and flawed individual not worthy of the hero title?" He paused.

"Yes."

"But that didn't go as planned."

"....."

"Didn't you say something about making a video to broadcast outing myself as All Might's daughter and causing panic? What happened to that plan?"

"It became leverage. If they attempt to come for you, then we'll go with that. But if we do that now, they'll come for you now and we'll be forced to fight."

"Isn't a fight...a good thing? You'd get news coverage and You'd no doubt gain supporters."

"Normally it would. But a fight isn't what we need right now. The heroes have us surrounded. If we make any move at all, we're in their hands. We won't be able to win."

"Not even with your quirk? Couldn't you-"

"Not with everyone here. As strong as I've gotten, I'm not strong enough to keep them from getting swept up and dusted too."

"Right."

"We're in a tight spot. One wrong move and we'll be wiped out."

"What about your supporters? Couldn't you get help from the outside."

"I could, but the heroes would see it coming. They have our signal tapped. Any sort of communication has to be verbal or written."

"Homing pigeon?" You offered. It made him smirk.

"Right now we're like a fox trapped in its own hole by hunters."

"So... we dig?" That made him smile, wide.

"Dig. If we could smuggle ourselves out of the city, we could reach a clear spot where we can call for backup to get us."

"Why not send one person to smuggle themselves out? Toga could easily disguise herself and leave."

"They have a barrier."

"What?"

"Part of the city is closed off until further notice. They know exactly where we are. If one gets out, they won't hesitate to come for all of us. We all have to get out at once and they can't notice until it's too late."

"But how the hell are you gonna do that?" His smile widened. He looked truly excited and happy. For the first time you saw your capture seem truly excited about something.

"We have a few secret recruits in the city. Spies." He turned his attention back to his meal box, reaching in to pull out the inner box that held the food, to reveal a piece of paper sitting underneath in the flimsy take out box. "I didn't know they were letting you out of the base now." He spoke as he opened and read the note within the box.

"I thought, you knew. I thought you were the one that said I could. Dabi said it was fine." He read the note and stood to pin it up on the wall before speaking.

"I've been too busy with this to worry about you. You shouldn't believe everything that Dabi says. I told him to make sure you just don't have another episode and cause a scene before we leave. I thought assigning him babysitting duty would keep him busy." He chuckled. "There's just one thing I don't understand." He turned back to you. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I...I..."

"You had the opportunity, but you're still here. Why?" You froze. Why? Why didn't you run?

"I was scared I'd be killed." You lied. He laughed at you.

"Don't lie to me. You lost that fear a long time ago. You know that's not true. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you a long time ago."

"You've kept me alive to use me as bate. To, to expose the truth." You argued.

"With Toga, we wouldn't need to." You swallowed hard. You knew he had thought about this.

"I'll tell you why I stayed, if you tell me why you've been training me." He scoffed.

"To keep you busy, to keep you from having another episode."

"That doesn't make sense. You could have drugged me, killed me, you said it yourself. But you kept me alive, you kept me busy. You could have kept me on my meds, unable to use it at all but you insisted I learn my quirk. You trained me yourself. Why?" His smile faded and his expression became dark.

"I asked you first." He growled. You looked away from him and thought for a moment before gaining the strength to answer. You knew the truth for a while now. You never wanted to say it out loud. You refused to look at him as you spoke.

"I don't wanna go back. But you probably already knew that by now. You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" His smirk returned.

"Had a hunch." He snickered.

"Now you answer me."

"Why don't you wanna go back?"

"We had a deal. Answer my question now." You barked at him. It took him a long pause. A full minute of waiting in silence felt like agony.

"I thought it would help you feel better." He muttered in a surprisingly husky tone. "Keep you from asking me to dust you again." That's right, during your episode...

"I'm sorry." You blurted.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I... I asked you to kill me." You hid your face from him. He shifted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not a big deal, I dust people all the time."

"No, I know. But like, I can't imagine being asked to by someone having a fucking break down happens all the time too. I kinda...kinda put you in a shitty position." When you looked up, he looked confused. Comically so. "What?"

"I took you hostage." He reminded you. You couldn't help but chuckle, that made him more confused.

"Shit, yeah, you're right. Guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself huh?" He looked away. "Still. My intentions weren't to upset you."

"You didn't upset me."

"It seems like I upset you." You toyed. His guard was down, he was vulnerable, and allowing you to be there.

"Shut up. You didn't answer my other question!" He shouted in an almost playful tone. You couldn't help but smile, only to have it slowly fade as you thought about your second answer.

"I don't want to go back because..." you stopped, the words getting stuck in your throat. You were unable to speak. He looked down at you, waiting for an answer. He seemed almost relaxed. He seemed normal. Like a normal guy leaning against the wall of his bedroom with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes wandered up to his scarred neck, bright red scabs forming. Inflamed and fresh. He had recently scratched at it again, clearly in an upset state too. When he blinked you got a clear view of the scarring around his eyes.

"Boss!" A familiar voice shouted from outside the door. "Boss!" Before you could move the door was thrown open, Spinner's wide eyes finding you standing there. He shook his confusion loose before turning back to Shigaraki who quickly changed his position to attention. "Come quick!"

You followed him back to the living space where the old television sat. The news playing loudly as everyone gathered around to watch in panic. Swat teams and heroes decorated the screen as shot after shot showed them surrounding your building. Fear ran from your toes to your head, making you feel nauseous and dizzy. Shit. Shit. Shit. They're here for you. But you...you weren't ready to leave. And what about-

"Not again! - We can take 'em'!" Twice shouted at it like a sport was playing.

"Tomura, what are we going to do!?" Toga asked, frantically bobbing up and down in panic. He watched the TV intently listening in.

"After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, police and heroes found missing tourist Y/L/N Y/N being held captive by The League of Villains in this abandoned office building. Officials are working now to safely rescue the hostage."

Suddenly a loud voice was heard both on TV and through the halls of the building.

"League of Villains. We have you surrounded. Please let Y/L/N go and no one will be hurt." A cop shouted through a megaphone.

"C'mon Shigaraki, what's the plan?" Dabi asked, clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Before Shigaraki could respond, you spoke.

"Well, looks like this is it for me." You began walking away, only to be stopped by a strong, four-fingered grip pulling you back.

"Where do you think you're going!?" He growled.

"The jig is up, Shigaraki! Let me go! I'm not useful anymore. All they want is me, if I'm out of your hair you'll be able to escape easier." His grip tightened, pulling you closer as his red eyes bore into yours.

"So long as you're here they won't dare make a move. You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here."

[ushidoux]

Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader

Summary: Office man Kuroo wants the usual for his birthday. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, public sex, office relationships

A/N: Kuroo annoys me but I can see the appeal. Happy birthday Kuroo!

---

You typed the last sentence of your business proposal for Friday, taking an extra bit of satisfaction in typing the last period before hitting the save button, then took a deep breath before leaning back in your chair. With one additional thing checked off your list for today, you made a quick check at the clock next to you to check how much longer you had until you could leave this place and move on with your life.

20 minutes left. You could do this.

“Didn’t you forget something today?”

Almost a bit startled, you looked up to see the company’s vice president, Tetsuro Kuroo, grinning down at you slyly, chin perched over the edge of the cubicle. You hated that he was tall enough to do that despite the fact that the cubicle walls were higher than typical - it felt like he had special access to you somehow.

You smiled politely, even though you and he both knew you couldn’t exactly stand him - in fact, you had made it pretty clear a couple months ago that you thought he was somewhat of a prick in the corner of an office party, and miraculously had kept your job (sleepless nights were finally behind you and you would never get so drunk at a company event again).

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tetsuro?” You said with mock extreme professionalism, as you printed out your proposal and rose to get to the noisy printer located outside of your small office space.

He leaned against the wall, smiling at you as you passed him.

“It’s my birthday, of course,” he said, now following you leisurely into the copy room, and you could feel the hairs on your neck stand on end as he stepped just outside of sexual harassment distance. “Where’s my present?”

You pulled your stack of papers out of the printer, shrugging off the irritation building inside you and went to focus on stapling copies of your day’s work together.

“Happy birthday,” you offered passively.

He stood beside you, grabbing another stapler to help you with your task uninvited.

“Why thank you, Ms. ___. I was waiting to hear good wishes from you. It was all I waited for all day, in fact,” he said, with a furtive glance at you that you pretended not to see.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need help,” you insisted. Before you could reach over, he nudged you playfully with his hip, blocking you out of his way. 

“You never need anything, Mrs. Independent,” Kuroo teased with a laugh, “but don’t worry, I got you.”

Before you could protest and snatch the sheets of his hand, he raised the sheets of paper higher than you could reach, forcing you to have to jump once or twice, stopping only once you were in a flustered mess, embarrassed by the fact that you were actually jumping in a pair of heels and a skirt in public.

“You are so fucking annoying! Do you know that?” You huffed finally in frustration, now standing completely still despite seething with annoyance. “Just go home, don’t you have someone new on your “hit and quit” list anyway?!”

Before the words left your mouth, you regretted them ever coming out and you whispered a short “Shit” under your breath as Kuroo’s eyes grew wide and devilish. You’d triggered him in just the right and wrong way. You glanced quickly at the door to ensure no one was outside to see what had just happened and what was about to happen, then considered making a quick run for it because yes, you had just given this sexy asshole ammunition and yes, he was absolutely going to lose it.

As expected, Kuroo blocked your way out of the room with quick side steps to the left and to the right, making your heart start to pound in your chest, and finally after a quick look outside as well to clear the surroundings, he held you close in his arms.

“Oh, it looks like someone’s been a bit jealous…,” he crooned, rocking you back and forth softly first before as he released you and backed into the open door, quickly and smoothly locking the door behind him. “So jealous, you won’t even wish me a happy birthday, my little bunny?”

Fuck.

“Kuroo, don’t,” you whispered under your breath, but he was already walking towards you, eagerly loosening his tie, and by all that was good, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted even if it was against your better judgement.

He started by backing you into the wall by the copy-printer, planting a soft kiss on your lips, then pecking down your jawline to your bosom, his hands steadying themselves on your hips hugged by the classic but quite form-fitting pencil skirt you had decided on wearing that morning.

“Don’t what?” He breathed into the crook of your neck, as slender fingers started to unbutton your blouse, giving him access to the soft pillows of your breasts and pert nipples.

“W-we’re in public… not... not here.”  You were already starting to forget your protests as his lips closed around a mound sending heat rushing to your center.

“It seems like you need reassurance,” he reasoned. “Let’s think of it as a sort of quality assurance project, what do you think?”

With that, more fingers made their way down the hem of your skirt, pulling then dragging them down so that he could press a digit right through to your pussy now damp and soaking your undies. 

“I don’t know why you keep wearing these tight ass skirts in the office, how the fuck are we supposed to get a quick fix during work breaks?”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you retorted, pushing him off of you as you struggled to shimmy the skirt off quickly yourself.

“I mean, you’re really bad at playing this pretend game. Like my dad owns this company, why do you think it would be a problem if everyone else found out we were fucking?” Kuroo added, as he unbuckled his pants and rolled down his dress pants for you. You took a look at his large member as it popped out from the waistband of his pants, but when you saw his smirk at your hungry expression, you rolled your eyes before bending over the printer for him. 

“You talk so fucking much, Kuroo.”

“Wow! Cursing at me? On my birthday?” He protested with mock offense, but instead retaliated with getting a hard grip on your hair with one hand to pull you back towards him.

“Kuroo!”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a full hour of head, bunny!” He quipped, before breaching your entrance in one fluid movement. “Oh my goodness, it really is my lucky day, you really are just dripping for me.”

At this point, you should have been wondering what exactly had gotten you involved with this obnoxious man, but when he started a quick pace, thrusting you forward back and forth while you steadied yourself on the poor abused office printer, your tsundere act started to crumble. 

As he expected.

The room filled with the sloppy noises of cock entering cunt, over and over and over again, soft whines, suppressed grunts and moans, and the whir of buttons inadvertently being pressed. Despite Kuroo’s abrasive behavior towards you in the office, he could manage to be tender when he railed you, offering a soft hand to cover your mouth as you struggled to keep quiet and loosening his grip on your hair in favor of running his hand through it tenderly. 

As your walls continued to clench and tighten around him, milking him of all he was worth, his moans started to get more uneven, and he breathed deeply before laughing softly, leaning in you.

“You’re awfully quiet, babe,” he teased, his voice more tender this time.

So are you, you wanted to say, but then your coil snapped, and sensing this, his hand clamped tighter over your mouth as he pounded you even harder and you wanted to scream.

Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo…

Your orgasm was freefall, and soon he fell with you holding you all the while, his hand still clamped over your mouth and his other hand now pressing against you to hold your convulsing body still, you always came so violently when you were with him, so much a firecracker you were.

When the high finally faded, you both redressed in satisfied silence, staring at each other with renewed longing, only to be startled by hard raps on the door. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at each other then at the door.

Had you finally been too loud?

“There’s cake for whoever’s in there for VP’s birthday,” you could hear one of your coworkers finally say with exasperation. “I don’t know why you always use that room for so long, you can work in your cubicle, ___.”

Kuroo stifled a laugh as haughty footsteps headed away from the door, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Do you wanna get some of VP’s birthday cake or have you already had enough of VP?”

[danddymaro]

Mind Your own Business | Leone Abbacchio X Reader

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word Count :   1241

Abbacchio being Jealous, overprotective and chasing guys away, all while still being in denial.

- I love the whole trope where he just can’t admit that maybe he has a thing for her. It’s my cup of tea.

Mind Your Own Business

Leone felt a fire burn within him as he seared holes into her body, glaring at the woman the same way a mountain lion would a grazing fawn during its stalk, right before it pounced.

There wasn’t anyone in the world who got under his skin as successfully as she did, the thought of her tormenting him even while he stayed at a safe distance, steering clear from her.

‘She’s so damn annoying,’ He thought to himself, all while he continued to stare at her, his gaze heated.

Tensely biting his lip, he watched her bend over the round table, attempting to wipe down the surface as a pastime.

Occasionally, she helped out around the restaurant, doing small, minimal things to not just sit around, all of which the staff greatly appreciated and welcomed.

It was almost closing time, and only one customer remained.

Last (f/n) remembered his waiter had brought him the check, meaning that it was a perfect time to tidy up without the chance of slowing down business.

Determinedly, she wiped in firm circles, moving closer to the center, stretching her body to give each inch of the surface the proper attention, and all the while, the little skirt she wore rose.

Abbacchio shifted, growing even more annoyed by her, and what was much more, her idiotic carelessness.

" Damn puttana," He grumbled, his eyes straying aside, drifting off from the alluring sight of her thighs as they were flashed to him, the little frills of her skirt just barely covering her taunt cheeks as she had the nerve to sway her hips from left to right, mindlessly swaying to the little melody in her head.

- Sometimes he wondered if she did it purposely, if she so happened to be so sensual to get a rise out of him, because it was almost impossible to think otherwise.

He tried to keep his eyes off but, yet again, they gravitated towards her, a thick wad of spit traveling down his throat as he caught sight of a teasing, little peek of her panties.

And in all of his poor attempts to stray his gaze from her, he found himself attentive to something else besides her,

‘ - You can’t be serious,’ The long-haired male thought while he focused his sight on the other man as he, too, watched her closely.

'Him again,' Abbacchio thought to himself, abruptly standing with tightened fists, striding over to the man who'd made himself a regular, coincidentally during the time she'd started spending more time around the restaurant.

'He comes in almost every damn day, and he's always last to go.' He reminded himself, watching as the other male kept his eyes glued to (f/n), not even noticing Leone as he advanced towards him.

‘I know just what you’re thinking. I know damn well what’s running through your head,’ He brooded accusingly along the way.

He didn't think twice before slamming a hand down to the gawking man's table, the glass of half-empty wine spilling over as the rest of the plates clattered, " Show's over stronzo," The mafioso said icily, making the other male jump, also causing (f/n) to spring up in surprise at the sudden noise.

"W-what ...What are you talking about ?," The other man said while his face glowed angrily, embarrassed, and utterly ashamed, fidgeting even moreso as he saw (F/n) looking on.

Leering down, and coming closer to the man, Leone's lips stretched into a malicious grin, his face devoid of any good nature, " I said the show's over." He said lowly, "And I hope you enjoyed it because it's the last time I want to see you around here," He added, his grin dying down, waiting for any sign of hostility, wanting a reason to pummel the man.

He could see the sweat that traveled down his forehead as well as caught sight of the little tremor that ran through him during the threat because he'd been well aware of just who'd approached him.

It took him a second after the shock resided, but then it clicked, causing any of the lividness that threatened to overtake the other man to die down, already knowing the consequences that would come if he dared to mess with anyone of Passione.

The dark-haired male that was still sitting lightly bowed his head in what seemed to be shame, moreso humility as he spoke,

“I didn’t know she was your wo-”

“- She is.” Leone said firmly, cutting the other man off with the blatant lie.

Silence soon followed while Abbacchio went back to his own table, his eyes following the other male as he paid for his meal, leaving without a say or a turnaround.

And at that point, Abbacchio was certain it would be the last time he'd ever see the other man again.

Sitting down, the light-haired male released a low sigh, one that deflated him as he tried to calm down his racing heart, attempting to unknot the mess of his intestines as he dwelled over the entire exchange, and much more what had started it all.

He had already grown weary of that annoying little feeling that spiked and sent him into autopilot.

He hated how irrational he grew.

He despised how easy it was for her to play him, all while pretending to be innocent.

“It’s all her damn fault,” He muttered, knowing that it wasn’t the last guy he’d have to threaten, having already gone through three others in the past. "At this rate, this damn place is gonna shut down," He added while he palmed his face, slowly dragging it down its length with frustration before he let it fall to his side.

‘If she wasn't so damn...damn ... annoying!’ He thought while desperately trying to justify himself.

" - You alright abba?" (f/n) then asked with concern, slowly approaching, attentively watching as his tightened jaw moved, teeth grinding against either as she stepped closer to him, her (e/c) colored eyes showing concern while the rest of her face was in the same sweet, unsuspecting worry.

He clicked his teeth once before he maundered over the question,

‘Your damn skirt’s too damn short,’ he started off, ‘ You're showing your ass off,’ He went on, annoyed, ‘ Your panties leave so little to the imagination you skank,’ He thought while he closed his eyes tightly, and by doing so having the teasing mental image of the (color) little piece that graciously hugged the voluminous curves, the cut being so racy it nearly gave him the full sight of her rounded cheeks.

‘You making me fucking hard,’ He complained in dismay, ‘ I just want to bend you over that very table,’ Leone thought while his hands clutched his knees, his nails digging into them as he tried to calm himself.

‘Fuck... I want to tear those panties off of you...

Lift up that little skirt and…-’

“ - Mind your damn business,” he grumbled causing (f/n) to hang her head, a soft blow of air making her bangs fly up.

Why the hell did he always have to stay with her if he didn’t have the intention to talk with her, or even help for that matter?

“Oh well...” she grumbled in defeat.

'I just don't get him,' She thought helplessly because as much as he liked complaining about her, he sure liked to lounge around her, and it was confusing as hell when she tried to figure him out.

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees: 1. Start

Inspired by this post by @whumping-every-day​ and @justtorturewhump​ about a group of whumpees. I’ve been thinking about it on and off ever since I saw it but I finally got the giddyup to actually write for it

CW: Modern slavery, implied + referenced abuse, death of a minor character, multiple whumpees, transphobia (brief), aftermath of torture/conditioning

--

Galo settled himself into the hospital chair, perfectly comfortable and positioned at a thoughtful angle to the side, opposite the door so physicians could easily enter. He’d intended for this to be a quick visit, but clearly his aunt had other ideas, so he might as well take a seat.

“Here I am on my deathbed!” Auntie Bethany raved, flinging her arm about wildly, and Galo internally winced each time she got too close to jerking on the IV, “Only ONE person comes to visit me! In my whole family!”

To be fair, your whole family is made up of jackasses, Galo thought privately, raising his hands in placation. “Auntie Bethany, please, you were just admitted today. I’m sure plenty of people will show up tomorrow.”

“None of them want to visit me, even when I’m going to die!” she persisted. To be fair, Galo didn’t really want to visit her either. He just… well, she was family. And she was in the hospital. And even though his family was estranged and largely filled with self-centered, arrogant individuals that made any kind of holiday event a stomach ache and a half, he tried not to be. So here he was. 

“You’re not going to die, Auntie Bethany,” Galo said patiently. “You’ve had this surgery before, remember? And you made it through just fine. I bet the same surgeon still works here, even!” Galo tried for a positive tone, cheerful. 

“Ah, you’re such a good niece for your dear old aunt, sweetheart.”

“I’m your nephew, auntie, we’ve been over this,” Galo said through grit teeth, smile significantly more forced now. This is why no one likes you, Galo thought.

“That’s why I’m leaving you all of my estate, darling,” Auntie Bethanie continued like she hadn’t heard him. Galo blinked twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Galo asked nicely, sticking his pinkie finger in his right ear as though to clear it out. “You’re…”

“I have my lawyer coming to the hospital,” Auntie Bethany said, “Go get me a pair of socks. They keep it so damn freezing in here.”

Galo rose and went to the cabinet, pulling out the soft yellow cloth and helping the socks onto her feet.

“I had planned to split my estate between everyone who showed up, but you’re the only one! So you get the jackpot, you’re welcome!” she said, well, nearly-shouted, as Galo tugged the socks on over the socks she was already wearing, struggling with the tightness. He was strong; daily visits to the gym had his arms thickly muscled, his chest broad, but he wasn’t exactly trying to break his elderly aunt’s foot here, so he couldn’t just shove.

“Thank you, Auntie Bethany,” he said, trying to sound actually grateful and not just tiredly patient. So this was her newest passive-aggressive ploy. After Galo told the rest of the family there was money involved, the others would show up with their plastic smiles and loud voices and then she would get to gripe at how they were only in it for the money, but change the will up anyway to keep them visiting. She liked to play “games” like that. Galo tried very, very hard not to sigh. 

It’d probably keep up after the hospital stay, too, Galo mused as he sat back down in the chair. People showing up to her home with flowers and wine and “earnest” attempts to make sure she was recovering just fine. Honestly, who knew how long she could drag this out? Her poor lawyer. He hoped she was at least paying them well.

The lawyer did, in fact, arrive, and Galo quietly apologized each time his aunt criticized or scolded the poor man.

“You’re uh, gonna need to use my legal name,” Galo said, handing him his driver’s license. “Not the uh, childhood nickname she keeps calling me.”

The lawyer gave him a sympathetic pat, and it was hours after Galo had planned that he finally managed to get out from under his aunt’s endless conversation and go home already. He sighed, dropping his coat on the floor of his small apartment’s entryway. For all that he was competent, intelligent, and good with organizational skills and the like; Galo had not been particularly successful in his life. He was good with people and good with life skills, he just. 

Bluh!

Bluh bluh bluh! Now was not the time for a pity party, or else he’d turn into his aunt. He played an hour of his most recent video game, an open-world with a semi-voluntary plot, before turning in for the night. He should think about investing in a rabbit or something. He could eek out the money, and his apartment got awfully lonely, with just him, a computer, and a potted plant.

In the morning, he knew he should email his family and let them know Auntie Bethany wanted visitors, and she was messing around with her will. He should. A good son, nephew, brother, and cousin would. But then his dad would call him, asking for specifics (it never mattered how many specifics Galo put in the email. His dad would always call and ask for more), and that would mean talking to his dad and he really, really wasn’t ready for that, at the moment. Or at all. He could do it later. It wasn’t like Auntie Bethany was actually dying, after all, she was just up to her hysterics again. And god, if Galo’s sister or brother decided they wanted more than just an email… if they decided to “pop in” after visiting their aunt and gloat to Galo about how now it was their names on the will…

Oh and don’t even get Galo started on what Uncle Mike would do. He was a bigger attention whore than Auntie Bethany.

So he just… didn’t write. Didn’t call. Nothing that big was happening, they could afford to wait a few days before feeding into Auntie Bethany’s weird games. She could probably use a little disappointment for the first time in her spoiled, nasty life anyway.

Galo took a deep breath and covered his face with his broad palm. He shouldn’t think like that. That was uncalled for. Auntie Bethany was a fine person, she was just rude, and loud, and inconsiderate. But she was family. He should be polite. But, still, it would be fine if she had to wait a little while for everyone to get in on her weird ploys.

So imagine Galo’s surprise when the hospital called him after work, letting him know his aunt had, unfortunately, not made it through her surgery.

--

Her mansion (and that’s really the only word that could describe it, though “castle” was more fitting, in Galo’s opinion (it had an estate garden, who has an ‘estate garden’?!?!)) was huge. Galo had made that observation before, of course, every time he’d spent the weekend as a kid and the couple of times he’d visited during a family gathering. He couldn’t really believe it was his. The castle, the pool, the garden, all of her badass furniture he’d been warned to keep off of as a kid, her hella entertainment system that he honestly couldn’t wait to hook his game consoles up to. Didn’t she also own slaves? He wasn’t certain; he tended to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible at family gatherings, in order to survive said family gatherings, but he was pretty sure she’d mentioned putting away her servants for the evenings since they were “eyesores” or some shit. And he definitely remembered her having one when he was a kid, a glass-eyed guy only about a decade older than Galo himself.

Whatever. He unlocked the front door with her keys, attached to his keychain now, and took in the familiar foyer. He should go upstairs and check if her turquoise guest room was the same as when he was younger. It had an en suite bathroom with a bath the size of a hot tub, and it could definitely serve as his new master bedroom. Auntie Bethany’s had been the size of a ballroom, and he really didn’t need all that space (or to sleep in the same bed his dead aunt had slept in, guh).

“Mistress, w--” a thin woman with pale hair and over-wide eyes entered swiftly, then flinched back, grinding to a halt when she saw Galo.

“S-Sir, I’m sorry sir, but our mistress is out at the moment. You will have to visit her at a later time.”

“Oh, uh, I’m, not a home invader,” Galo assured, setting his little potted plant down near the antique vase his aunt had boasted about so frequently. The poor lady was trembling visibly, though he had to give her credit for not screaming and calling the police upon seeing a stranger enter her home. He probably should’ve called out and introduced himself when he let himself in; he’d just been thinking about how Auntie Bethany had kept slaves. “My aunt had a relapse, recently, and was admitted to the hospital yesterday. Uh, her surgery didn’t go so well,” Galo said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He needed to shave down his undercut, he thought rather inanely. “She didn’t make it. I uh, I’m sorta the sole inheritor of her estate? For the time being; at the funeral I’m sure we’ll get into plenty of arguments,” he said with a forced chuckle. 

“My name’s Galo,” he greeted, extending his hand to the woman.

He was a little taken aback when she genuflected and kissed his palm, dropping fluidly and with unexpected grace. “Oh, uh, okay,” he said, cupping her face and stroking a thumb over her cheekbone. Except, whoops, that was the wrong thing to do, he realized, since her face contorted and her whole body locked up.

“Shit, sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you,” Galo said, pulling his hand away immediately. She went down on both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, further confusing Galo, her movements still fluid as silk.

“I apologize, Master. I reacted poorly.”

“No, no,” Galo rushed to reassure, his words making her flinch. “You’re good, you’re fine, it’s alright,” he tried, and that went over a little better. 

“I apologize if I have angered you, Master.”

“You--didn’t. I’m just, surprised is all.” He bent down and touched his fingers very lightly against the back of her hand, and he noted that she flinched again. Okay. Probably a trauma response. His aunt had likely picked her up from somewhere bad, but that was alright. He had significantly more emotional intelligence than Auntie Bethany; he was better suited to help this kind of person than she was. Would have been.

“Will you tell me your name?” Galo asked, voice intentionally calm and reassuring.

“...” He watched her swallow, his brows furrowing. Did she… not know her own name? “Whatever pleases Master best,” she eventually answered.

“Oh,” Galo said, voice soft and pitying. “No, that’s alright. You can tell me what you’d like to be called.”

“I--wouldn’t, be presumptuous, Master, and put words in your mouth.” Man, she was shaking like a leaf. He would definitely be stuttering, if he was that scared.

But a direct approach clearly wasn’t going to work, here, he couldn’t just do it over and over again and expect different results. He’d come at this from a different angle.

“You’re so obedient,” he praised, stroking a finger down her fingers and along the back of her hand, light as a feather. “You’re very good, you were trained to answer just like that, weren’t you?”

“Yes Master,” she said, sounding relieved. Good. 

“But right now, what I’m asking for is your name. If you don’t like the one Auntie Bethany called you, that’s fine, you can pick something else, but I’m not going to think of one for you, okay? I need you to do that, now,” Galo said patiently, feeling a little silly for talking to a grown adult in the same tone he might take with a crying child, but, well. Trauma response.

“Nyla, Master.”

“Good girl, Nyla.” He heard her breath of relief, and tapped the backs of his knuckles against her hand. “Stand up for me?” he asked, slipping his hands underneath her palms. He rose, and she stood with him, again with that eerie grace, pretty much none of her weight against his hands, although he had intended to help her up. 

“So, is there anyone else here I should meet?” Galo asked, smiling patiently at Nyla who did not meet his eyes at all. “That other guy. Gr… G-something.”

“Greyson, if it pleases you Master.”

“That’s it! He still around?”

“Yes Master. I can fetch the others for you, Master, and bring them to wherever you’d prefer to inspect us.”

“Uh,” Galo blinked twice. Okay. Nyla was clearly going to require a lot of delicacy, and while he was definitely equipped to do that, he wasn’t fast. “Sure, how about you get the others in the--” No, not the living room, the furniture in there was all tiny and mostly just for her weird 60’s aesthetic, “--den.”

He mentally added “den” onto his brand new list of things that made Nyla lock up. He should probably turn it into a physical list, at some point, since he was going to live with her now, and it was important to make note of things like this.

But the damage was done, and maybe this would be a good way to show her his aunt’s den wasn’t like… whatever it was, that she’d experienced before here.

His den. It wasn’t his aunt’s anymore. Auntie Bethany was dead.

It was a weird feeling, he thought to himself as he grabbed his potted plant and went upstairs to the guest bedroom that was, in fact, still just as cool as he remembered it. He set it on the windowsill of his house. It was a weird feeling, a really weird feeling, that someone he’d known all his life was suddenly… gone.

He didn’t miss her. He didn’t like her, and they certainly hadn’t been close. He wasn’t mourning her. But. Hm. His grandparents had all died before he could remember them, so he hadn’t really had a death in the family before. It was strange and almost-melancholy, thinking that his aunt would never again walk through this place. Would never hassle him about his hair at family gatherings ever again, or complain about the TV being too quiet, or eat cantelope with her mouth open.

He shook himself. He had other people to say hello to and introduce himself to. He gave his cheeks two smart pats and left the room, mentally plotting where he would put his own personal effects. And ugh, he had to get rid of that weird hall painting. Actually, why not just do that now; he was there and it was large, but if he gripped under the frame on top he could sorta-shoulder-carry it down the stairs. The weight wasn’t much of an issue. He was a particularly buff stud, after all.

“Oh, there’s more of you than I expected,” he mentioned offhand, reaching the den. Five slaves stood at strict attention, ignoring the human-sized furniture he’d intended them all to sit on, including a girl who couldn’t possibly be older than twenty. He stared at her, a muted horror not quite breaking past the shock. She was absolutely covered in bruises. Some were purple, some yellowing, some bright red and fresh, hardly older than two or possibly three days.

“Oh god,” he breathed, very, very deliberately reminding himself to move slowly as he approached her. Poor thing! Had she fallen? The bruises differed in age too much for that. He reached out a hand to her, slowly, well within her field of vision, but she still flinched.

“Master!” Nyla interrupted before he could touch. “That one is Lilah, she’s the gardener for the estate.”

A little thing like her? The whole estate? Using the machinery needed to keep up with a yard this big, no wonder she was covered in injuries! She was way too small to be handling stuff that could hurt her like this!

“Nice to meet you, Lilah,” Galo said gently, extending his hand again, just as slow and careful as the first time. Lilah sank to one knee, almost as fluid as Nyla, and kissed his palm, which. Alright! Cool! Sure! Maybe Auntie Bethany had gotten Nyla and Lilah together? 

Galo gave her a single, quick pat on her head, not wanting a repeat of whatever distress he’d caused Nyla in the foyer. Lilah was tan and freckled, with sunbleached brown hair, and wow, yikes, she was so small. Galo swallowed and turned to the next person in the lineup.

“Greyson,” Galo greeted with a smile. He looked a lot like he had when Galo was younger, just sorta gaunt now. Reddish-brown hair that was only just starting to sprout a handful of gray hairs, tall and skinny with knobby hands. “Remember me?”

“I do, Master Galo,” Greyson said with a bow, hand raised to his chest, and Galo chuckled.

“Good to see you again, dude. It’s been years,” Galo said, leaving his hands in his pockets. He’d already met this guy, however long ago that it might have been.

“It has, Master, I am delighted to see you again,” Greyson said, monotone and still bowing, but Galo was inclined to believe him. Greyson had always been like this, as near as he remembered.

“Look a little different than last time, huh?” Galo asked with a proud grin. Greyson lifted his head and quirked a very, very small smile of his own.

“I believe you’ve put some weight on, Master.”

Galo made note of how everyone else in the room tensed up at Greyson’s words, but he also laughed. “You bet I have,” Galo bragged, flexing an impressive bicep, before taking a mental red sharpie and writing DON’T DO THAT around the action in big letters. Lilah looked like she might cry.

He’d have to catch up with Greyson later. Or, well, get to know the guy? He hadn’t had much interest in the man when he was a kid, more preoccupied with the pool and old movie collection. He turned to the next person, a man closer to his own age.

“What’s your name?” Galo asked, calm, friendly smile that he used during work on his face.

“Evan, if it please you.” Evan had fluffy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and strong, handsome features. 

God, everyone here was really formal. Greyson, he got. Again, the man had always been like that, but man. They sounded like they all came out of those weird books Auntie Bethany was always reading.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Evan,” Galo said, doing a little wordplay, and Evan lowered his eyes deferentially. Galo lifted his hand to maybe clap him on the shoulder or rub at his own hair or something, but Evan knelt mid-motion and kissed Galo’s hand and okay! Maybe his aunt had been the one with the hand-kissing-thing after all. That was weird as hell to think about, and Galo was gonna try not to.

“This is Sasha, Master,” Nyla stated when Galo turned to the last person in the room, a woman with thick, curly, dark hair and wide blue eyes. She was pale as a ghost. “If you will allow it, she does not speak very well, and I am capable of speaking for her, Master.”

“Okay, sure,” Galo said, not going to push too hard for information on that. And he wasn’t, like, gonna tell them no, either. If this was what made them comfortable, then alright, he could deal with that. “Nice to meet you, Sasha, you don’t need to kiss my hand.”

Sasha nodded tensely, and ugh, maybe he should have let her? Now she was the odd one out. Well, Greyson hadn’t either, so…

Nope, don’t overthink it. Galo could tell there was going to be plenty for him to overthink, moving forward, and he needed to get into the habit of cutting that in the bud right now.

“Alright, so, nice to meet you all,” he already said that. “I’m new, and I’m gonna be honest, the fanciest thing I’ve ever owned is my computer rig, so I’m probably gonna make a couple mistakes in the whole… running an estate, thing, at first. You’re all allowed and encouraged to make suggestions or tell me if I’m doing something stupid on accident, okay?”

It didn’t look like that was okay at all, but Nyla nodded with a “Yes Master” anyway so eh, Galo would take it.

What should he say now? Telling them they were dismissed would make him feel like a hoity toity jackass, but it also felt kind of lame to just… leave it at that. “I’m also a little slow,” he warned, “so please be patient with me. Sometimes I need an extra couple of seconds to think things through.”

“Understood, Master,” Nyla answered again, Evan swallowing nervously at Galo’s words. Yeah, he was definitely going to have to make physical lists of weird observations. Everyone here looked like they had trauma they were processing. Yikes. His aunt was hardly a philanthropist; why would she take in this many skittish people?

His stomach ended up saving him from further floundering, gurgling loudly. Lunch had been so long ago...

“Master, may we prepare dinner for you?” Nyla asked, swaning down to her knees and bowing her head low. 

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m allergic to mushrooms so nothing with those, please.”

“Yes, Master. Is there anything you’d prefer tonight?”

Hm. They seemed to like direction, and giving them a solid lead would probably be kinder than forcing them to think for themselves and worry about what he did or didn’t like. But at the same time, he had no idea what his aunt kept stocked.

“How about pasta with white sauce?” he suggested. Open ended, basic ingredients that they were pretty much guaranteed to have, and easy to make. And relatively quick; he was hungry.

“As you wish, Master.”

“Cool. I’m gonna start going through my aunt’s stuff. Lemme know when it’s ready.”

Galo left the den with a “Yes Master” chasing his heels, and rubbed at the back of his neck. Goddamn, these people were not having a great time. But that was okay. Galo was confident he could help.

Next

[gaycrouton]

could you write a fic where scully gets really horny on her period and working with mulder certainly isn’t helping? (pre-relationship) i don’t wanna be too descriptive or anything because i trust that you’ll think of something perfect!

It was the changing levels of progesterone, testosterone, and estrogen in the system that had a dramatic effect on libido during the menstrual cycle. Scully had learned that when she was twelve and got her first period, but known it in practice officially in medical school. One day she’d be normal, the next day all she could think about was when she could get home, lay down on her bed, and fuck herself senseless.

Some things never changed. 

She squeezed her thighs together under the table as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She felt like all the blood in her body had rushed to her groin and her lips were swelling more and more each passing minute as her arousal grew. She was starting to feel uncomfortable with the fact she wasn’t sure if her tampon was leaking or if she was just that aroused. All she knew for certain was that she just wanted to lean back in her chair, spread her legs, and let her hand go to work.

No.

What she really wanted was for Mulder to walk over here, part her thighs, and bury his face between them. Or maybe she just wanted to go over there, straddle his legs, and fuck him until his chair broke. She wanted him to know her body was his to do whatever he pleased with.

She let out a small cough as she clenched her thighs together again, glancing at the clock only to see five minutes had passed until she last looked. She knew her face was flushed red, probably matching the blush on her chest and in between her thighs, the blood pumping rapidly to keep up with her heart. It was like a tell she couldn’t conceal.

Scully wished he was as easy to read. Sure, she’d seen his porn collection by accident once or twice, she knew he had a libido, but she often tried to restrict herself from thinking about him in that light too much. Tried being the operative word. She wondered if Mulder would be the type to be repulsed by menstruation? Or would he deem it just a part of life? She remembered the criticisms of her past lovers vividly - one even fatally going so far as to compare her to a ‘bitch in heat’. It was usually the blood that threw them off. Apparently they all forgot that towels and showers exist. 

“Scully, are you okay?”

Her attention shot up to the man causing her current predicament. She always thought he was sexy, but today it was harder than normal to keep her thoughts off of that fact. His cologne smelled better, his faint stubble looked tantalizing, and his deep baritone felt like warm honey being poured on her. “W-what?”

Yesterday had been really tough. She was cramping the entire day, she felt irritable, and Mulder had gotten the brunt of it. While he clearly had been initially offended, even snapping back at her a few times, halfway through the day he’d caught sight of her pain-stricken face as she clutched her side, and became substantially more patient. His kindness and understanding had drastically improved her day, especially when he’d given her some dark chocolate he’d bought just for her. 

Today, however, that same kindness and understanding was having a different effect on her. Knowing that she was still suffering, he kept rubbing her back or massaging her shoulders gently every time he passed by her chair - which today felt like far more than he usually did. Small touches that were usually forbidden only being given under the guise of comfort.

His fingers touching her body had the effect of a match being struck. It felt like she was sucking all the oxygen from around her as her body was set ablaze. The last time he did it she even let out a little accidental whimper. 

She’d been able to pass it off as pain from the cramp, but he’d been staring at her with an odd smirk every time she caught his gaze. 

Like now. 

“I was just asking if you’re feeling okay?” he clarified.

He leaned back in his chair as he said this and started playing with a pencil with both hands. Her eyes were drawn to the skin of his revealed forearms, his shirt bunched around his elbows. Scully could see the muscles flexing underneath his olive skin as he rotated the pencil, rubbing the tip over the pad of his index finger. 

She licked her lips as she thought about what else those fingers could rub.

“Yeah, Mulder. I’m just still a little under the weather,” she shrugged, turning her attention back to the screen of her computer… which had apparently automatically shut down from lack of use without her even noticing. 

Mulder maintained her gaze for a moment before his eyes dropped to the front of her shirt, instantly darting back to his own computer as he feigned work. 

Did he just ogle her breasts?

Her brow furrowed as a result of the decidedly un-Mulder like lack of tact, and she looked down to see if something was wrong - only to see her nipples were prominently visible through the thin cotton of her shirt. Jesus Christ.

Scully hunched over in her seat a little bit, as if that would do anything to conceal her chest. She really started to feel like she might as well write ‘Hi, I’m horny’ on her forehead. 

“Um, I’m sorry. Is it too cold in here?” he asked in concern, already pivoting around in his chair in preparation of getting up and walking to the thermostat. 

“Uh, n-,” she began, before deciding she’d rather blame it on temperature rather than her reaction to his proximity. “Yeah, thank you.”

Even though she was pretending to be doing work, she couldn’t keep her eyes from watching him stand up and-

Oh.

She gasped, but bit her lip to keep from making anymore noise. From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one aroused. 

He passed by her on his way to the thermostat and she saw he was tenting. Not as bad as she’d seen him do before, but it was significant enough to be slightly visible. Was it because of her?

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was cold,” he laughed awkwardly as he tinkered with the settings.

She didn’t say anything as she continued looking through the documents on her computer, trying to find some menial task to occupy herself with while still looking busy in case he glanced at her screen. 

God, she’d never wished she had x-ray vision more than she did right now. She’d seen it before, sure, but seeing Mulder’s flaccid penis during an exam and seeing Mulder’s hard cock after catching a glimpse of her tits were two drastically different things. Scully risked a second glance as he walked back to his desk. She could tell he wasn’t fully erect, but it was clearly enough to get her hand around. Enough to stay up on its own as she bent her head down and wrapped her lips around-

“Scully, did you hear me?”

Her eyes shot up and she realized she’d been daydreaming while glaring a hole through the desk where she wanted to see most of all. She saw a light blush had smattered across Mulder’s face as he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if this was better?” 

Now she was sitting in the same predicament, only with the knowledge of Mulder’s eager cock sitting a few feet away as the room started heating up while she felt like she was going to self combust into a ball of fire. 

“Yeah, much better. Thank you,” she smiled.

He smiled back and something about it made her feel like a hungry lion watching an innocent lamb. Did he have any idea how much she wanted to jump his bones at this very moment? 

Forcing her attention back to her computer for what felt like the millionth time today, she looked at the digital clock in the corner only to see a measly three minutes had passed since she last checked.

This was the longest day of her entire life.

She decided cleaning her mailbox would be tedious enough to distract her, while simple enough to be easily fixed when she inevitably got distracted from her distraction and messed up.

From: Dr. Lewis

Subject: Thank you for the autopsy report

Delete

From: Mom

Subject: Dinner tomorrow?

Reply: Yes

From: DCsexysingles69

Subject: You want to see this!

Her mouse hovered over the delete button before curiosity got the better of her. She clicked the link and, as expected, her browser started going crazy with pop ups. She was glad she wasn’t connected to the speakers right now, because she feared what audio was coming from this. 

Photos of sprawled out naked women and men with impossibly large erections littered the screen. She tried to hide her surprise with a cough as she adjusted herself in her seat. Mulder glanced over at her, but luckily turned back to his work.

On a normal basis, she would have been exiting out of the tabs rapidly. But there was only a half an hour left for the day and there was a brown haired man on the screen that looked brooding enough for her tastes.

Scully’s eyes travelled down the man’s exposed torso before resting on his massive erection. Every animal instinct in her made her body crave friction and pressure. If her clit was yelling before, it was screaming for attention now. She squeezed her legs together before glancing out of the corner of her eye, making sure Mulder wasn’t looking.

He wasn’t.

As discreetly as she could, she squirmed in her seat, letting her hand fall subtly on her lap before allowing two fingers to slide in between her thighs and press against her center as best she could. She bit her lip and retracted them as quickly as she could. The temporary relief felt amazing, but only made the intense desire for more even higher. 

Someone once told her the average man thought about sex once every second. While the statistic seemed like an extreme hyperbole - it felt accurate to her current predicament. Looking around the room, she took a mental inventory of everything it would feel great to grind against. The chair, the corner of the desk, the edges of the tables, Mulder’s lap, Mulder’s cock. She let her eyes flutter shut as she thought about it. He’d let her. She knew he would. If she stood up right now, walked over there, straddled him on the chair and ground herself on him until she came - he would have no complaints.

What would he sound like? Would he be nervous and timid? Or would he ravish her the first moment he got? She felt like her arousal had a heart beat and she swore she’d stand up only to see a wet spot where she sat.

Her eyes snapped open at a harsh knock resounded from behind her. “Come in,” Mulder called out.

She’d just gotten her hand to her mouse when she heard the voice of A.D. Skinner boom. “Sorry for dropping by unexpe- Agent Scully? May I ask what you’re doing?” 

She craned her head over her neck as she started rapidly clicking on the exit tabs, “I was checking my mail and spam came up. I’m so sorry,” she rambled. For every tab that closed, it felt like another opened. The seconds seemed to tick by, punctuated by the sounds of her clicking the mouse before eventually just stabbing her finger against the power button. 

Mulder was staring at her with a look of pure confusion, but she felt she couldn’t meet his eye. Instead, she turned back to Skinner, clearing her throat, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Skinner looked just as embarrassed as she inevitably did, and just chuckled humorlessly while adjusting his glasses. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Is there something we can help you with, Sir?” Mulder asked slowly.

Skinner shook his head, snapping himself back to the matter and stammered. “Yeah, yeah. Uh, I just came down to let you both know I need to see you both for a meeting tomorrow to go over the case reports you sent to me yesterday.” As an afterthought he added, “Why is it so hot in here?”

“Were the reports okay?” she asked, skipping over his last question.

She gave them both a stern look as to say ‘what do you think?’ before saying “Let’s just say I have some questions. My office at eleven, okay?” he stated as he started backing out of the room. Skinner seemed to glance at her one last time after avoiding her gaze the entire time he talked, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Sir?” she prompted, feeling uncomfortable in her state with Skinner anywhere near her.

“Sorry, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so red,” he laughed. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

If there was a scale, she just went from crimson to scarlet. He laughed at her once more before telling them to have a goodnight as he closed the door. 

The room was silent as she stared at where he’d just been standing, not wanting to turn around and face Mulder. Apparently he didn’t need her to face him. “What did you do?” he laughed.

Pivoting in her seat, she looked at him and saw his eyes were brimming with curious amusement. “I accidentally opened a spam email and porn popped up,” she replied.

“Oh really?” he prodded, leaning back in his seat. “Was it good?” he teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, Mulder,” she deadpanned. “How did you know?” 

“Because you looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he replied with a lilt in his voice.

Her eyes shot to him as electricity ran through her body. She should have known better than to-

“Kidding, kidding,” he laughed, raising his hands in the air. She looked at him pensively for a moment, not sure if he was being honest or not. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She wasn’t one to get off from fear, so her arousal had diminished greatly within the past few minutes. Subsided, might be more correct. She let out a slow breath, looking at the clock on the wall. 4:45.

“Yeah, I’m just still feeling a little under the weather,” she nodded, grabbing her purse. “If you don’t mind I might leave a little early today. I just want to go home,” she explained, standing up. 

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded supportively. 

She stood up and started walking towards the door, her well wishes on her tongue when he called out. “I hope you’re able to find some relief at home,” he said in a joking tone.

She turned around to glare at him when she saw he’d stood up, that slight tent in his pants still visible. A smile broke out on her face as she looked up to him, a devilish playfulness gleaming in his eye.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she said with finality.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled.

I’ll see you in thirty minutes, she thought to herself, that familiar ache resuming yet again in between her thighs as she left.

[dsmroleplay]

#DetoxHorrors #DSM #SPN Part One

Written by @TridentHunting & @bigbadethan 

Sienna: -The bar was a little warm from all the bodies crammed together in the small space so she ordered a glass of tea. Putting one foot under her and grabbed a scrunchy gathering up her long blonde hair and putting it up in a bun. Catching a headline on one of the news outlet’s she’d marked. The headline read “Recovering Addict Goes Missing.” and while it didn’t scream at her as supernatural she was compelled to read on. Wallas Wren and Brent Hayslip had both been at the brand new facility for Church of Christ starting their lives over when Wallas went missing as the two had been out exploring the area. Brent was being held without bail under suspicion of murder. His pastor Jack Reeves had stood up for him but no one was listening. Reeves believes that something was out there with them. “I’ve known Brent all his life and while he has had addiction problems he’s always been open and honest. He’s /scared/ and believes someone grabbed Wallas." The running theory was that the two had slipped off from everyone to get a little high struggling with coming down off their vices.

Local police found a bloody shoe that facility counselor Mark Hamby confirmed was one of Wallas’ shoes. Local Sheriff "Longmire” said that is office was working around the clock to find Wallas and that blood tests were being done on the evidence as well as on Brent to see if he’d ingested anything that might explain his claims of seeing dark shadows. Local doctor Randy Callowhand had weighed in that with addiction issues these men had hallucinations were totally plausible and sometimes a side effect of the medications used to help bring them off the substances they abused. Scrolling down she’d read through the comments from the public on the article. It wasn’t to kind. “Two addicts, who cares.” and so on even some theories they’d been messing with “bathsalts” and Brent had killed Wallus in his high. Si sipped her water Tapping her pen to her lips she laid it down and looked up Leesburg Idaho. The first pictures to come up were of a retro picture of miners. Reading on “Gold was discovered at Leesburg, Idaho in 1866 by a party of men led by F.B. Sharkey. The town took its name from Confederate General Robert E. Lee. As with much of the territories of Idaho and Montana, Leesburg contained many Confederate sympathizers.

Supporters of the Union started the settlement of Grantsville directly adjacent to the camp, but eventually the larger community came to be known as just Leesburg." Reading on she saw the actual mining site had been vacated and was secluded. The Church of Christ had bought the property and turned it into a new addiction get away center for long term addicts. It had only been open about six months when Wallus disappeared. Looking at the history of the place, there could be a lot things to grab Wallas out there including wild animals but it was a perfect breeding ground for a Wendigo as well. She’d have to see if she could round up a hunting partner for this excursion so she saved the information. to her computer and forwarded it to several hunters emails. Now she’d prepare while waiting for a partner.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ethan: -Ethan walked around the stark home that looked out to the ocean. It’s always the oceans and seas that comfort him. Maybe it’s the sound of the waves or the vastness of it all. On the surface, the sea is calm and peaceful but he knows in its depths there is turmoil and chaos. He laughs, not a happy laugh, but the irony doesn’t escape him. Setting down the empty glass that once held bourbon, he then walks over to his office and takes a seat. The smell of leather hitting his nostrils like an old friend. Hitting the tab for emails, he takes his time and sifts through them. One, in particular, catches his eye. The name instantly brings a smile to his lips, his hand running down his beard as he reads it. Not once. Not twice, but three times. Typing out a reply for the email, he answers simply. <You need me, I’ll always be there. Send me the coordinates and I’ll be there in the morning.> He hits send then sits back in his chair. Yes, calm and peaceful on the outside, turmoil and chaos on the inside.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sienna: -She was rereading the article just to see if anything stuck out when an email notification popped up on her computer screen. Clicking on it her eyes widened, it was E. She read his reply, how long had it been since she’d seen him? Years she was sure. They’d kept a wide birth, especially on her end. There was a time she couldn’t even be in the same room with him. God she hated Colt because of E. Colt was a hard reminder of things. But like all things pain fades, she still didn’t like how Colt was but she’d seen him suffer on more than a few occasions so even her hatred towards him had dwindled. Hell she worked for Blackwater. Typing back.- “I appreciate that mister if you have time. But don’t put yourself out on my account. 45°13′26″N 114°6′50″W . It’s good to hear from you either way. Hope you’re doing good. -Si

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ethan: -The sound of email notifications brought him out of his daydreaming. He read the email, but didn’t reply this time. He did however memorize the coordinates then shut off his computer. He was going, that’s all there was to it. Maybe, she didn’t expect he’d answer her first email. Hell, it caught him off guard too. Rising from the leather chair, he goes to his vault. The scanner there scanning his eye and the prints on his hand. Was it too much, maybe but the time he spent with the SEALS taught him many lessons and preparation was key. The heavy titanium door swung open and Ethan walks inside. Oh, the weapons cache he has would give the staunchiest hardcore terrorist or service man a hard-on. Grabbing his old duffel bag, he begins to load it with what he thinks he might need, and maybe a few toys just for a little fun. He just hopes Sienna will be happy to see him.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Sienna: -From lack of response she figured he’d thought better of it. What made her reach out who knew. She wasn’t to far out from Leesburg and she wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway so she grabbed a hamburger to go and got back into her truck. Maybe she just needed to know he was okay and that was enough for her. Turning up the stereo she pulled out of the parking lot and got on the freeway setting the cruise control.-

::::::::::::::::::

Ethan: -Bag packed, Ethan stands out on the balcony, watching the sun go down. The yellow and oranges streaking the sky in brilliant hues. He’s in no rush, he knows he can be where she asked him to be in the blink of an eye. He’s nervous. He tries to shake it off, but he can’t. He didn’t like the way things ended the last time he saw Si. Maybe she can forgive him and they can start again. Clean and fresh. Maybe it’s just a pipe dream but he truly wants to. The thought brings a sincere smile.-

::::::::::::::::::

Sienna: -She'd managed a few hours of shut eye in the backseat of the truck. Rubbing eyes she sat up and looked around before opening the truck door and getting out to stretch. Pulling on a camo long sleeve over the white tank top she strapped a gun holster to leg and grabbed her jacket slipping it on. Grabbing her backpack putting it on and then shouldering the AR-15 she pulled the GPS from the front console and put on her hat. Normally she would not hunt alone but she wasn't even sure if this was a legit hunt so she'd scout first. Running through a list of possibilities as she checked the GPS. Once she got it up and going she put a sat phone in the left pocket of the BDU's she was wearing and took off in the direction that lead to the mine.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ethan: -Ethan stands just inside the mines entrance. He hadn’t gone in, he was waiting for Si. This is her case, he’s just there to have her back. Okay, maybe that’s not the only reason, but it’s all he can handle until she either a) shoots him or b) she gives him a hug and a smile putting him at ease. He prays, literally for the later. Hearing her approach, he steps out of the shadows and waits for her reaction.-

:::::::::::::::::

Sienna: -Looking round to see if anything stood out but nothing had so far but as she came on up around the trail she smelt a cologne that only one person wore that she knew. It stood out from the pine tree scent, swallowing hard she came rounded a tree and there he stood. She had to to catch her breath and it had nothing to do with the elevation.- I'd ask if your lost but since I sent you the coordinates I know you're not... -She couldn't but help but smile and walk over to give him a hug fighting tears. They'd been friends along time and she couldn't help but just be thankful to see him again.- You big asshole, I think I should shoot you just because.

:::::::::::::::::::

Ethan: -When he saw her, he couldn’t help but to walk towards her, his arms wrapping around her small frame. He is a giant next to her. When she pulled away from the hug, he instantly felt a loss.- I can live with asshole, but I can’t live with you wasting ammo. -With a shrug, he turns towards the dark mine entrance.- What are you thinking? Ghost of a pissed-off miner? Demon? Please don’t say windigo. Those things are butt ugly

:::::::::::::::

Sienna: The angel makes jokes now, I like it. -smiles- It can wait, look at me. How are you? And it's not a waste of ammo if it makes me feel better.

:::::::::::::::::

Ethan: Jokes and sarcasm are part of my charming personality. -He gives a light shrug, pondering her question.- I’m okay. Hanging in there. Doing the angel thing. I try and keep busy. How about you? You look great. -big smile and an innocent wink-

::::::::::::::

Sienna: -Hands-on hips she rolls her eyes.- Okay charming, I'm gonna shoot soon. -Laughs- It's good to see you, I hope you stick around. So... I had thought to scout the mine before night hits but what do you think? Might be better to check the area around for anything out of place... only thing is they had a bunch of rangers, sheriff's and search parties up in here if there was any clues they probably disturbed it.

::::::::::::::::

Ethan: That is a big 10/4 on the destruction of any clues. Let’s just go in and see what we find. -E stops and cants his head just slightly and inhales deeply.- I...can smell it.

::::::::::::::

Sienna: My own extra-large blood hound. -Teasing smile.- Well can you tell what it is by the smell?

[kittykatz009]

Mocha Choco Latte: A KiriBaku fanfic

My first MHA fic, and it’s going to be a multi-chapter KiriBaku one! A special thank you to my lovely wives @wingsonghalo and @ittybittytoostormy, and my dear friend @musics-lifes-record. This insanity wouldn't have been possible without your constant encouragement. A special thank you to Wing for helping me with edits <3 I love you lots, babe Title: Mocha Choco Latte Pairing: Kirishima/Bakugou (with background Izuku/Ochacco) Rating: T, mostly for language  Wordcount for chatper 1: 3,039 Summary: Katsuki hadn't anticipated spending his senior year of University working at a cafe, but who was he to complain when it paid the bills? Besides, what could be the worst thing that could happen? Also available on: AO3

Chapter 1: Caramel Mocha Frappuccino 

If there was one thing that Bakugou Katsuki despised, it was people. Specifically, idiotic people. Like the ones who came in with a stupidly complex order that he had to repeat back twice to make sure he got each and every instruction right. Or the ones who would watch him make their drink, and the moment he would finish it, they would mention that they needed a milk alternative because god forbid they say something when ordering, or when they saw him grab the container of milk. And don’t even get him started on having to take their food orders; that was a new level of idiocy he hadn’t believed could be possible. Whoever said the customer is always right should be kicked in the face. He swore that this cafe was a beacon for idiots, and here he was, front and center, having to cater to their every whim.

“Kacchan, you’re scaring the customers again,” Midoriya Izuku commented as he approached the register to clock in.

“Can it, nerd. It’s not my fault that some people can’t get their order right the first time they order it,” he grouched, throwing a glare at the woman at the end of the counter who was typing away at her phone, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for him to give her her drink.

“Still, you can try to be nicer to the customers. You are the cashier, after all.”

“And whose fault is that? I was perfectly happy being the cook until you fumbled because you were geeking out and spilled hot coffee all over the CEO of Nighteye Records.”

“Oh come on. I’ve apologized for that enough. You know I didn’t mean to! I just can’t help getting excited when I meet celebrities,” he complained as he shrugged on his apron.

“You’re lucky he didn’t try to get you fired, dumbass,” he scoffed, eyes rolling. He grabbed the cup from the steamer, the extra hot almond milk frothing, and quickly poured it into the to-go cup, mixing it in with the mocha syrup and the three decaf espresso shots, before popping a lid on the cup because heaven forbid he make the mistake of adding the whipped cream.

“Here,” he said, placing the drink on the edge of the counter aggressively. The woman huffed, throwing her phone in her purse before she scooped the cup up.

“About time. And would it kill you to be a little more appreciative of your customers? After all, you were the one who messed up my order in the first place. I can just take my business elsewhere, you know?” The challenging smirk she wore as she took a sip of her drink made Katsuki’s blood boil.

“Alright, listen here you b-”

“We are so sorry about the mistake! Please, have this cookie on the house!” Izuku interjected quickly, forcing himself between the seething Katsuki and the lady, thrusting a pastry bag in her direction.

“Well, at least ONE of you has manners. Thank you.” She snatched the bag out of his hand and stomped out of the store. Katsuki was fuming; how DARE she treat him like he was the idiot when she was the one who couldn’t get off her phone for more than five seconds to order her damn drink with the proper milk? He hoped she enjoyed the word “KAREN” scrawled across her cup. He turned toward Izuku, eyes narrowing.

“Quit it, Deku. I had that under control.” Izuku gulped, taking a step back from Katsuki, throwing his hands up in front of him in defense.

“You were about to call her a bitch, Kacchan. I had to do something. Sato’s told you if he gets any more complaints about you being rude to the customers, he’ll have to fire you.” Katsuki sighed, shoulders sagging as he realized just how right his friend was. He couldn’t afford to get himself fired, not with rent coming up soon. He was sure that Deku would help him out if that did happen, but damnit, his pride wouldn’t allow freaking Deku of all people to be the one to help him out of a bind like that, even if he was his roommate.

“Whatever. Anyway, Batteries for Brains dipped early, so I’m glad you showed up. Wasn’t looking forward to trying to run both the line and the register on my own. He should be lucky that all the orders so far have been for drinks and pastries, otherwise I’d have to kill him.”

“Kaminari’s a good guy. He probably had a very valid reason for leaving early,” Izuku said, heading toward the kitchen.

“Hopefully to tutoring. That guy’s math is atrocious,” he griped, counting the drawer down for shift change. “Oh yeah, pastry girl asked about you,” he called over his shoulder, smirking as he heard Deku run into the door frame, a muffled swear falling from him.

“U-Uraraka? What did she have to say?” he asked nervously, rubbing the red spot on his forehead.

“Wanted to know what you were up to this weekend. Told her to ask you herself.”

“Kacchan! That’s so rude!” Izuku whined, grabbing the pickup order ticket that printed off, scanning over it before grabbing one of the to-go cups to scrawl the instructions on it.

“What? I gave her your number, you moron. I’m not that heartless.” He finished counting down the drawer, noting that that idiot Kaminari short changed him, and took the cup from Izuku, whose face was as red as one of Sato’s cherry danishes.

“W-why would you do that?” he stammered, grabbing the next ticket and moving to the pastry case.

“Because clearly you’re not going to be the one to make the first move. You’ve been pining over her like an idiot since we first started here. I still can’t believe she caught you when you tripped on that drink that you spilled. You could barely stutter out the words ‘thank you’; do you really think I expect you to be able to ask her out?”

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Thanks for having my back, Kacchan.”

“It’s whatever. You owe me one,” Katsuki grunted out as he sprayed the whipped cream on top of the drink before fitting the lid on it snugly. He placed the finished drink next to the pastry bag on the pick up rack and went for the next order. “Here, this one needs actual food. Get out of my space, loser.” Izuku took the ticket with a smile and went to the small kitchen, humming as he got to work.

Time passed idly, customers trickling in—some passing through for pick up, others dining in—and Bakugou was counting down the minutes until he was off. The dinner rush had come and gone, leaving the two to focus on the pre-closing procedures in between orders. Which left Katsuki with time to let his mind wander.

Working in a cafe wasn’t how he anticipated his senior year of university going, but it paid the bills. The place had a nice homey quality to it—the mismatched chairs and tables scattered about the dining area paired with various paintings and prints from local artists really made the ambiance. There was a small section by the register that displayed various knick knacks made in the community that were for sale, though Katsuki hated dealing with those purchases since there was a lot of paperwork involved to make sure that the right artist got their money. The real money maker of the cafe laid in the pastry case, though. Sato’s confections were famous throughout Akihabara; many locals supported the young business man who had a heart of gold and sweets to match. And Sato wasn’t a bad guy to work for. Quite the opposite, in fact; he paid his employees well and was very flexible with their schedules since most of them attended University of Akihabara, which is how Katsuki got roped into the evening shift. Not that he was complaining about that—it was generally a quiet time and he didn’t have to deal with as many stupid customers. Overall, it wasn’t a bad gig.

Katsuki had just finished breaking down the decaf espresso machine (good riddance—it was an abomination to mankind) when the bell at the front door jingled, announcing the arrival of a new customer. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for this onslaught of stupidity. The last patron had argued with him until they were both red in the face about the cafe having diet whipped cream, even though he assured him that the cafe never had any to begin with. Eventually, he was able to convince him that the drink was perfectly delicious without a topping, and sent him on his merry way, all the while wishing he could punt kick that pint-sized asshole across the room.

He exhaled and made his way to the register, finally looking up and blinking in surprise as he took in the appearance of the customer waiting on him. This guy looked ridiculous—his obnoxiously bright red hair was spiked up and Katsuki was sure that this guy was trying to emulate either a hedgehog or a porcupine. His choice of clothing, or lack thereof, was as disastrous as his hair. His chest was fully exposed and the only sort of covering his upper half had was some sort of weird cropped red and black jacket. Black pants tucked themselves into hideous muddy-red boots, but what really took the cake was not the weird open-mouth face mask that he wore; instead, it was the piss-poor attempt at red chaps that were held together by a gaudy-looking R-shaped belt buckle. He looked like he walked right off the page of some sort of shitty manga that he was sure Deku would read. It wasn’t like they didn’t get cosplayers in the cafe, because they did all the time, but this was surely the most bizarre one he had seen. The guy smiled at him, and Katsuki had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Stupid, over-friendly cosplayers.

“Welcome to Sugar Rush. What do you want?” he asked gruffly, ignoring the softly chastising “Kacchan” coming from the kitchen. He couldn’t help it—he had had his fill of idiots for the day and his feet were fucking sore.

“Uhh,” the redhead eloquently replied, craning his neck to look at the menu. Clearly this guy was more brawn than brains, in Katsuki’s most humble opinion. Miraculously, he kept himself from tapping his fingers against the countertop in annoyance while the other scanned over the hand-written list of drinks, his eyes finally lighting up in delight as he settled on one.

“I would like one of the caramel mocha frappuccinos please!” he said with a smile and Katsuki noted that the guy even had put in false teeth; the ones grinning back at him were sharp and dangerous looking.

“Size?”

“Um, large?” he replied, though to Katsuki, it seemed like he was uncertain.

“Is this for here or to go?” Katsuki was praying that the guy said to go because if he had to wipe down the lobby one more time before they closed, he was sure he was going to lose his mind.

“To go, unfortunately,” the cosplayer laughed, handing his card over as Katsuki gave him the total. “Oh yeah, don’t you need to ask my name?” he asked, putting the card away along with his receipt.

“Nah, I’ve got it. Just go to the end of the counter,” he replied, scribbling on the cup then turning to get the ingredients, effectively cutting off any conversation. He swore he heard the cosplayer mutter something that sounded suspiciously like “of course you do ” under his breath, but Katsuki refused to ask. As he stood up, milk in hand, he was met with disapproving green eyes peering at him from over the kitchen window.

“Not a word, Deku. And I swear to god, if you come out here, I’ll kill you,” he threatened while measuring out the milk. Izuku sighed, shaking his head and disappeared from Katsuki’s line of sight, which he much preferred right now. He poured the milk in the blender, added the pumps of mocha and caramel syrup, and tossed the ice in before popping the top on the machine and turning it on. Katsuki caught himself checking out the cosplayer out of the corner of his eye while he waited for the drink to be blended perfectly. The guy was sort of cute, he mused. Kind of in that endearing puppy dog sort of way as he hummed along to the shitty pop music that was playing on the speakers while he scrolled his phone. It was ridiculous, however, that he would even be thinking about how attractive the guy was—he was sure that he would never see him again. That, and he was nothing more than a customer; Katsuki had no business daydreaming about how nice it would be to feel those arms wrap around him, crushing him to that stupidly beautiful chest that was on display for all to see. Nope, not at all. It was hopeless. Just a fleeting crush that would never come to fruition.

A crash from the kitchen followed by an exclamation of “oh holy shit ” snapped him out of his delusional thoughts, and he huffed out an angry sigh. Leave it to Deku to break something once again. He emptied the contents of the blender into the to-go cup, adding a swirl of whipped cream to the top before securing the lid to the cup with a soft pop. He felt a smirk start pulling at his lips as he turned around.

“Large caramel mocha frappuccino for a ‘Shitty Hair,’” he called out, causing the cosplayer to look up from his screen, blinking in bewilderment as he looked between Katsuki and the drink that was on the counter. The reaction was priceless, if Katsuki could admit that to himself, and it was totally worth the look on the cosplayer’s face and the shrill “Kacchan ” yelled at him. What Katsuki wasn’t expecting, however, was the cosplayer to start laughing, a deep rumbling sound that sent shivers running through him. God, why was this guy’s laugh even attractive? It wasn’t fair.

“Oh shit, that was great!” the cosplayer replied once he was finally able to catch his breath, wiping tears out of his eyes while reaching for the cup. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages. Have a great day, man!” he exclaimed, placing some coins on the counter as a tip before grabbing a straw and leaving the cafe. Katsuki was baffled at the guy’s reaction—most people didn’t thank him for insulting them. He shook his head, pocketing the yen, and turned to see a heaving Izuku with his hands on his knees like he had just ran a marathon frantically looking between him and the now closing door.

“Kacchan! You can’t call people names like that! Do you even know who that was?” he cried.

“Uh, just some shitty cosplayer, duh?” Katsuki rolled his eyes at Izuku’s theatrics, grabbing the blender and heading to the sink to rinse it out.

“A cosplayer?? No! That was Kirishima Eijirou, Kacchan!” Izuku replied and Katsuki dropped the blender in the sink, whipping around to face him.

“Kirishima Eijirou, as in the fucking actor?” Katsuki could feel a ball of dread curling up in his stomach. He was hoping that Deku was wrong, but that nerd knew celebrities like the back of his hand. The exasperated look he got in return was more than enough to confirm his worst fears.

“Yes that Kirishima Eijirou, Kacchan. Oh my god, I can’t believe you called him Shitty Hair. What were you thinking?” he asked, pulling at his hair.  

“In my defense, I thought he was just some shitty cosplayer! What the hell was that get up, anyway? God, it was awful.”  

“Oh my god, you’re kidding me, right? He’s currently filming for the live-screen adaptation of the Red Riot comics. This has been a highly anticipated movie from director Toyomitsu Taishiro that’s been in the works for the past four years. All Might productions picked it up and they finally just got the casting settled last year and were able to move forward with the filming process. And, he’s the main character. Oh my god, my best friend just called the actor for one of my favorite comic book heroes Shitty Hair. Oh my god, what if he gets the cafe shut down? What will we do about rent money? I’m sure mom could help me out, but still…” he trailed and Katsuki had to take a deep breath.

“Calm down, you dork. I highly doubt he’s going to get the cafe shut down. Hell, he seemed to have a good laugh over what I said. Besides, if he was upset with anyone, it would be me, not you. So don’t overwork your brain over there with things that won’t happen.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Izuku exhaled, visibly calming. “I still can’t believe you did that, though.”

“Are you ever going to shut up about it?” Katsuki groaned, going back to cleaning the blender out.

“Only when you decide to stop holding you being a barista over my head because of the Nighteye incident,” he laughed, walking out to the lobby to lock the door and turn the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed.’

“Fair enough. Now, let’s get this shit done quick. My bed is calling my name.” They continued with their closing procedures, and as Katsuki was counting down the drawer for the night, his thoughts were haunting him. He just happened to have the shittiest luck, he determined. Not only was he crushing on a customer, but the customer was an actor. An actor who he happened to insult. Holy fuck. Great job, Katsuki. Way to fucking go. As they finished closing and were leaving the shop, he decided that it didn’t matter. This would just live to be an embarrassing tale that he would make sure he and Deku took to their graves. It’s not like he would ever see the guy again, after all.

Thanks for making it to the end of chapter one of my very first BNHA fic! Hope it was to your enjoyment. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know how I did! Chapter 2 should be coming soon <3

[neverlandparker]

Far From Home, Far From You // [p.p] FFH SPOILERS***

Pairing: stark!reader x peter parker (i don’t specify if she’s related to Tony by blood so it’s completely up to you if you want her/you to be directly related or adopted!)

Word Count: 3.6 k

Warnings: contains ***FFH SPOILERS!*** angst, a few swear words, and mentions of death. (but as always, there’s the fluffy parts too don’t worry, I’m not that mean haha) 

A/N: hey everyone! :) i’m back!! so I watched ffh twice and I loved it even moreeee the second time and I thought I just had to write something based off it. So here is my baby - it was a labor of love - (quoting tom here) i’m so proud of this fic & I hope you love it too! please please please rb and let me know your thoughts whether in the hashtags, comments, or send me an ask! as always, I appreciate every single one of you! thank you from the bottom of my heart!

ps credits!!! I used some of the quotes from the original script of ffh and made references to the book, “The Kissing Hand”. All credits go to ffh script writers and marvel studios & the author of “The Kissing Hand,” Audrey Penn!

- xoxo, Claire ❤

Summary: y/n and peter have been through a hell of a year together - wars, battles, and death - they’ve encountered it all. so when y/n suggests peter should go on that school trip to Europe with his classmates and it doesn’t go as planned, what happens next? also ft cuddly peter and the kissing hand!

...

Rain pattered softly against your bedroom window as you spent the dreary afternoon curled up against Peter’s body which was radiating warmth, cuddled together with a giant blanket on your bed - his arm thrown across your body, pulling you closer to his chest as you listened to the rapid but steady thump thump thump of his heartbeat. His legs were tangled up with yours and he was tracing patterns on your shoulder with one hand - his other was joined with yours in your connected hands - one of the many ways in which he displayed his endless amount of affection for you.

“I really do miss him” you murmured softly to yourself, sighing, looking out of the compound window, as you watched a countless number of rain droplets hit the window and slide downwards, the pitter-patter sound it made somewhat comforting. 

And when Peter stirred, you were slightly startled. You had thought he had dozed off.

He groggily cracked one eye open, and after covering his yawn and rubbing his sleepy-dazed eyes, he looked at you with so much adoration you thought your heart would burst.

“I do too. I miss him too - so much.” more than you know.

“What if - “ he stopped chewing on his lip suddenly nervous, his gaze traveled down to his shirt, fingers finding the hem of it and twirling it around. 

“What if -” but he stopped just as quickly as he had started. 

“What if - what if something goes wrong...w-when I’m not here?” his voice trembled, insecurities getting the better of him, and he sighed, “I’m leaving, Y/N. I’m leaving for Europe in 2 days. I’m leaving - you...god - why did I think this was a good idea?” he buried his head in his hands, and after a few moments, he looked back up, “I-I just don’t think I want to save the world this summer. I know that makes me sound like such a jerk. But I really -” his voice cracked, “I just really need a break. I mean - with everything we’ve all been through, I kinda just wanted to get away. Just away, anywhere, any place, and I guess at that time, Europe seemed to be a good idea. But -” he took a deep breath, “But - but now things are….different. What if something goes wrong or someone gets hurt when I’m not here? What about you - ” he was about to keep rambling on, stuttering, reverting back to his old nervous habits, but you quickly sat up and rubbed your hands comfortingly across his shoulders. 

“Pete. Peter. Look at me. You’re not a jerk for wanting a normal life. I mean - heck - my dad -” a sad smile broke out across your features, “he - he - warned me about this - about the Avenging lifestyle -” you gave a soft chuckle, “Nothing is going to go wrong here, okay? We’ve got it under control. And in the rare case we don’t, we always have backup. It’ll be alright - I promise. With everything that has happened - “ you paused and sighed running your hands through your hair, “I think you deserve a break - you really do. Go have fun in Europe with your friends. It’ll be fun. You’ll be far from home and far from….me...and I’ll miss you - a lot. But you know…..I think….I think it’ll be good - for you.”

He gave you a little nod, head still hung low.

You brought your hands to cup his chin, bringing him to look at you.

“Hey hey hey - Peter - Pete, please don’t worry about me, ’kay? I’ll be alright. I’m always here if you need me. Just one call away.” You pointed to your phone, and paused for a second and then swallowed to continue, “Uh - I want to share this with you - uh,” your voice started wavering again, and you swallowed, “this is something my d-dad - Tony - and I used to do before he went out on his missions.”

...

“Daddy!!!!!!!”

You charged towards him, still half-asleep, morning bed head intact, dragging your blanket behind you, as you made your way down the stairs, two at a time and ran towards where you saw him by the door. 

“Y/N! Sweetheart! What are you doing up?”

He turned around and immediately bent down to wrap you - his adorable five year old daughter - in a giant hug.

Then he heard it. 

He heard your sniffling. 

“Hon - you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Are - a-are you l-leaving?” you managed to get out between sniffles. 

You had hoped he was only busy around the house in the morning but when you saw him by the door, you had panicked and bolted down the stairs to him. 

He sighed. 

Anthony “Tony” Edward Stark liked being Iron Man. He really did. It made him feel powerful, unstoppable, and able to defend himself and the people he loved. It was like his own way of righting his past sins and faults. 

But the part he hated?

He hated leaving you. 

His sweetest little girl - he loved you so much and it killed him to leave your side - even if it was only for a day. 

So knowing some lines from the book - The Kissing Hand - that he had just read to you by your bedside last night, he sighed.

“Y/N sweets, I’m - I’m really sorry but daddy’s going to be leaving for a while...but I’ll come back sooner than you know it - okay? Always. Time is going to go by so fast, you’ll never even notice I’m gone.” 

You let out a little laugh between your sniffles and he smiled a bit. 

He took your little hand in his and turned the palm side up and placed a gentle kiss in the center. 

“Daddy is going to teach you a trick to help remember me okay? Just do this when I’m not around and you’ll feel me be with you okay? I’m always with you even when I’m far away. Always with you... right….here.” he poked your chest and you giggled.

“Hey! I’m ticklish!”

“Whenever you feel alone, anxious, hurt, or far from home, just press your hand to your cheek and think of me. Sometimes and someday, you’ll be far from me, and when that day comes sweets, you will remember me, okay?”

You pressed your hand to your cheek and closed your eyes. 

“I love you 3000 daddy”

“I love you more munchkin.”

…

“So Peter...whenever you feel alone, anxious, hurt, far from home, just press your hand to your cheek and think of me. And when you’ll be far from me, when that day comes, you’ll remember me.”

You kissed the palm of Peter’s hand and brought it up to his cheek. He leaned into your touch as he sighed, bringing his hand up to cheek, putting it on top of yours. 

He loved the feeling of your hand in his. 

He smiled, and tilted his head to place a quick peck on your hand that was cupping his around his cheek as you giggled. 

“Now you’ll have something to remember me by too.” he smiled. 

“Always.” you said softly as you brought your hand - still warm from Peter’s touch - to your cheek, letting your eyes drift shut, as you felt an uncontrollable smile tug at your lips.  

...

Peter limped towards the descending jet in the tulip fields, the force of the powerful engine jets sending colorful petals of flowers flying wildly about in all directions. Normally, he would have taken this moment to admire the way the flowers swayed and billowed against the wind, taking note that it was a lovely sight that he would want to someday share with you - his pretty girl.

He shook his head, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. 

How could he have trusted him?

How could he have been this stupid?

And when the door of the private jet flew open and he saw Happy’s concerned face as he met his gaze. He felt his whole being tense up. His first instinct was to run toward him - so fucking glad there was someone who he really knew. Who he trusted.

But to trust his senses? 

Honestly he didn’t know if he could even trust himself right now.

Not anymore.

Looking at the man who so much reminded him of his mentor, he felt suffocated, heartbeat pumping all to fast, senses dialed to eleven, every single hair on his body stood on end. And worst of all, he felt like there was a hand around his heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until it became near impossible to bear anymore.

His regrets weighed down upon him and by the time he realized that happy was calling out to him across the field, he shook his head to clear the feeling and made his way over but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. 

You. 

You came.

And Peter - god - Peter wanted nothing more than to run into your arms. To be able to feel your comfort again, to embrace you in a big hug, to press kisses to your forehead and nose, and be able to tell you that was everything was alright, but how could he when he had messed up so so bad? 

Especially not before…not before making 110% sure it wasn’t another trap - wasn’t another one of Mysterio's sinister plans. 

He couldn’t bear to see you hurt or taken from him. It was his worst fear.  

Were you real? 

Was this real? 

What was real?

He didn’t think he knew what real was anymore. 

Not after that.

Not after what Mysterio had shown him what he had. The illusion he had been so naive to so easily fall into would continue to haunt the rest of life, an unforgettable memory in the worst possibly imagined way. He had been shown being attacked by clones of himself, being trapped inside a snowglobe with no way to escape, and ….. god - Tony - Tony Stark, crawling out of his grave, with iron suit and all, and Mysterio told him that if only he had been good enough, Tony would still be here.

He would still be here... if only he had been good enough. 

Those same words rang in his head again, taunting him, as he screwed his eyes shut, shaking his head from side to side, desperately willing, begging, pleading it to go away. 

Upon making eye contact with Peter as you scanned the field, you felt relieved, but choked up when you saw the condition he was in. Covered in dirt, grime and blood, his face was severely battered, nose and jawline littered with bruises, cuts, and open wounds. You clasped a hand over your mouth, stifling a sob as you pushed past Happy and ran full force towards him. 

However, when you reached just within arms reach, just as you were about to engulf him in a tight hug, his eyes widened and he took several large retreating steps back, eyes darting between you and Happy as if he didn’t recognize you more than mere strangers. You felt a dagger of pain straight to your heart as you realized the shaken and vulnerable state he was in. 

What the hell did this guy do to him?

“Please -” Peter pleads, “Prove to me you’re real. Tell me something only you would know.”

You and Happy share a look, both knowing things you don’t want the other to know but you currently didn’t have much of a choice. You decide to go first. 

“Remember the kissing hand?” you say in a gentle tone and you can see Peter’s expression relax and soften as he met your gaze. 

Whenever you feel alone, anxious, hurt, or far from home, just press your hand to your cheek and think of me. And when you’ll be far from me, when that day comes, you will remember me.

You’re real. You’re real. You’re REAL.

“Remember when we went to Germany? You paid per view a video in your room. They didn’t list the titles but I could tell by the price it was an adult film at the front desk. And you know how I knew –”

“Okay okay fine! It’s you, it’s you, stop!” Peter yells as you stare between Happy and Peter, confused. 

“You’re real!” he lets out in an exhausted sigh and hurriedly limps over. 

And he finally lets himself fall into you, fall into your embrace, let himself be surrounded by the comforting scent of your shampoo.

His eyes turn teary as he flexes his arms, bringing you even closer, both arms wrapped securely around you so tightly. 

You were aware of his super strength had the ability to do some serious damage but he was always the most utmost gentle with you, treating you with so much care you thought you would sometimes just melt in his hands. 

But right now, he needed to. make. sure. To make sure. To make sure the an illusion could not possibly recreate you. Recreate this. He needed to know that you were real. And that you were. 

You’re real. Not fake. No illusions. Real. Real. REAL. 

No depth of any illusion could make you - well, you. Truly you. 

He had realized it was so different being not only so far from home, but so far from you. You were his home and nothing - nothing - could ever recreate that. 

With that, as if realizing that his grip was almost suffocating, he quickly loosened his grip, mumbling a “so sorry,” not quite letting go, but not as tight as he had been squeezing you in the crushing hug as he had before. 

…

Once Peter got on the jet, he almost sagged with relief. You and Happy immediately got to work, tracking coordinates - anything, to locate Mysterio as well as sitting Peter down and cleaning up his wounds. He sucked in a sharp breath as you unzipped his suit, only then truly realizing the extent of his injuries. He was thankful for your gentle touch as you successfully managed to bandage up his ribs and tended to his wounds with a few grunts and low curses as he mentioned he was hit by a train. It made your heart shatter, seeing him in this broken state, so battered and crestfallen. Happy took over with stitching Peter’s several back injuries up as you came to sit in front of him, silently observing him, heart aching at the sight. 

He always tries to do the right thing and that’s what mattered...why did it always have to be him?

He gives so much and gets back so little. He is too good for this world. In fact, he deserves the world. Heck, the world doesn’t even deserve him. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, hearing Peter’s distressed grunts as you looked up seeing that Happy was still in the process of stitching him up. 

“Just relax.” Happy says, his brows pinched, trying to concentrate on the stitches.

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Peter snaps, reaching his breaking point, his voice filled with angst before he stood up, “How can I relax when I messed up so bad? I trusted Beck, right? I thought he was my friend, so I gave him the only thing that Mr. Stark left behind for me, and now he’s going to kill my friends and half of Europe. So please - do not tell me to relax!”

“I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have shouted…” he takes a shaky inhale, “I’m sorry - I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean to” he sighs, “I didn’t mean to yell.” he sighs, hanging his head, defeated, “I just - I just really miss him. Everywhere I go I see his face. And the whole world is asking who is going to be the next Iron Man? I don’t know if that’s me, Happy. I’m not Iron Man.”

“You’re not Iron Man. You’re never going to be Iron Man. Nobody could live up to Tony. Not even Tony. Tony was my best friend, and he was a mess. He second-guessed everything he did. He was all over the place. The one thing that he did that he didn’t second-guess was picking you. I don’t think Tony would’ve done what he did if he didn’t know that you were going to be here after he was gone.”

Peter pinched his nose, nodded, and placed his head in his hands.

“I just really miss him - and and-d nothing can ever bring him back.” his voice was barely above a hushed whisper, raw with emotion, and you felt the pulling of your heartstrings as your lip trembled and tears clouded your vision. 

“I miss him too - everyday - so so much it hurts” and by that time you realized that tears were streaming down your cheeks, your knees were threatening to give out, “he’s never...oh god - he’s never coming back” 

“Y/N….I - I don’t know what to say….I’m sorry - I’m s-so so sorry” and just like that,

Both you and Peter collided into each other gripping each other in a tight embrace willing for all the bad things to go away, sinking to the floor - the both of your bodies racked with sobs, chests heaving, crying over what was lost.

It felt as if it was only now, the full weight of your dad’s death hit you and it slapped you both in the face and hurt like no other. It hurt like hell. 

For Peter, he had lost a mentor that was almost his second family, the only one who got his brilliant mind, genius jokes, and hero work, and you, a father, one whose connection with you ran so deeply it split your heart in two to witness the agony that was his death. And now Peter was in your arms, mere hours after being hit with a freaking train and barely hanging on, so so broken and you felt yourself being filled with despair. It felt like another knife had been driven straight into your heart. Straight through your very own soul.

“Y/N, everyone is telling me to step up to tell me to fit in his shoes but I …” his voice cracks, “I just can’t - I can’t” Peter buries his head in his hands again, eyes shut tightly, willing this to all be some kind of horrible awful nightmare. He takes a shaky exhale, “I can’t do this - I can’t be him”

“No Peter. Look at me,” you gently cupped his face in your hands, ”Listen. The world needs doesn’t need the next Iron Man. You know what it needs? It needs you. They need you. You’ll never be the next Iron Man - no one can - but it’s because you’re better than him. I think -” you had to stop yourself from letting out another choked sob, “- No, I know - I know for sure that h-he would be proud of you.”  

You wiped away the tears that were now dripping rapidly down your cheeks, 

“He would be so proud. So so proud” you whispered, voice trembling. 

At last, the broken boy looked up, revealing his watery, red-rimmed eyes. 

“How can I fix things when I already s-screwed them up so bad?”

“You fight.” you utter through trembling lips and watery eyes. 

“How?” he breathed, his breath raged from crying. 

“You get back up. Like you’ve done over and over again. Like you did against that mad titan and some of the most evil beings in the universe.”

After a moment of silence filled with sniffles, Peter looked up.  

“Thank you” he said hoarsely.

A watery smile broke out across your features, your gaze on him loving as you fought back a sob.

You were so proud. So so proud of him. 

“Kissing hand?” he prompted, with a look that said it all.

You just gave him a watery smile, nodded, and held out your hand, unable to open your mouth or make out words because you were afraid that if you did, you would end up in tears all over again. 

He took your hand in his as he did your “kissing hand,” that you and Peter had come with a few days ago before he left - with him bringing your connected hands up to his cheek, looking at you with that heart-eyed gaze before tilting his jaw to give your hand a kiss. 

Whenever you feel alone, anxious, hurt, or far from home, just press your hand to your cheek and think of me. And when you’ll be far from me, when that day comes, you will remember me.

He never failed to make butterflies erupt in your stomach, as a light blush dusted your cheeks, your gaze meeting his. You smiled - a lovey dopey smile - as you watched him suck in a deep breath,

“I’m going to kick his ass.”

And this time, he looked to you with a new gaze with fiery determination and the look he gave you conveyed everything you needed to know in that moment. 

Your chest swelled with pride and admiration for him as you witnessed Peter Parker - the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man from Queens with a heart of gold get back up once again - facing the inevitable, but never once daring to back down from a challenge.

Whenever you feel far from home, just press your hand to your cheek and think of me. And when that day comes, when you’ll be far from home, far from me,  you will remember me. I’ll always be with you - even when I’m not right there, right here, right now, by your side. I want you to know that I love you so so much. I love you 3000. 

…

A/N: wow!! thank you thank you thank you for reading!! please! please let me know your thoughts - I love to hear them! I love you all, thank you for your endless support <3 

tagging some wonderful people (as always, a huge thank you to YOU!❤): @acciopeter @akaspiderman @badhollandfluff @blackberrywidow @blushypetey  @coffee-and-hollands @darlingtaurus @flowercrownparker @hawkinsholland @holland-peters @hollandsosterfield @h-osterfield @iloveyouironman @i-am-steve-rogerss @lavenderholland @lostinspidey @marveley @marvellousparkerpeter @marvelplease @marvelsswansong @mcuspidey @mysteryavengers @obsiidio @parkeret  @parkerprotectionprogram @peterparklr @petersbackpack @peterstrainingwheels @playboyparker @plushparker @poetrypeter   @rachramblesstuff @retroparkers @scarlettspidey @screamholland @sergeanttpoliteness @sparklyp-parker @spideypeach @spidey-caps  @spxderbarnes @sunshinehollandd @thisbitchemptylove @thotsterfield @tomshufflepuff  @twilightparker @uglypastels @underoos-shield @uwu-peter-parker-uwu @heavenllywrites

...

[banditthewriter]

Limited Time Only - Billy Russo

Prompt: i’ve had this au stuck in my head. like billy is good and got his scars during his time in the marines and now has anvil and how he does security and what not. well this like pop princess or whatever hires anvil. she’s younger and like super pretty and he expects her to be shallow and judge his face but then they actually fall in love. i love when the reader makes billy feel better about his scars and the secret relationship trope with a client and their security Prompter: Anonymous

Okay so my requests aren’t open but this one came through and when I was about to politely decline, I had a burst of inspiration... oops! 

Warning: Stalking, being filmed without consent, some violence.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

Billy Russo was good at his job. He had protected senators, CEOs, millionaires, and the general populace. He’s negotiated kidnappings, led retrieval jobs, been shot at and actually shot a few times. His face bore the remnants of his time in the Marines, scars from a mission that had gone belly up within the first ten minutes but he hadn’t called it quits.

He was a perfectionist. He was a professional. He was good at his job.

That’s why he had almost turned down the job that came across his desk. He’d never protected celebrities outside of events, and this would be something completely different. This felt more like glorified babysitting. The manager had told him that it would only be for a few weeks until a stalker was caught.

“I’m not sure Anvil is the best option for a stalker,” he had said slowly as he read over the information. “I can refer a few smaller companies that–”

“No offense, Mr Russo, but you’re the only company that we’re considering. If you’ll read all of the packet that you were sent, you’ll see that this maniac has broken into Miss Y/L/N’s apartment, has almost successfully kidnapped her, and sent her a box of snakes when she called the cops. This isn’t just a stalker; this man is a danger.”

Billy hadn’t flipped through the rest of the packet, actually. He had seen the name and the word stalker and had almost immediately lost interest. 

“And Miss Y/L/N is aware that she will have a private security firm with her at all times. There’s very little privacy if I’m to secure her safety.”

The manager sighed, the noise loud over the line.

“So you’ll take the job?”

He was good at his job. He’d go as far as saying that he was the best.

“Anvil is at your service,” he said as he leaned back in his chair.

There was a first time for everything.

------

The weather was about as dreary as you felt. You listened to your manager talk about the new security team that he had hired for your protection while you were in the city.

“The head of the company will be here shortly to go over some ground rules and talk to you about your schedule,” he said as he flipped through the mail that had been x-rayed already. “We have a stack of fanmail to bring you. And if we’re not able to get to the recording studio, you’ll need to do some camera work here.”

“I thought we said no cameras? Anything that can give my location,” you reminded Grady as he flipped through your mail some more.

“Then just do an audio recording,” he said with a shrug. “We can’t lose the momentum that we have after your tour. We need to keep your name out there and since you refuse to publish that you’re being stalked–”

“I’m not making this guy famous for terrorizing me,” you shot back as you stood up and marched towards the kitchen. “And I’m not getting publicity from this. I’ve told you that already.”

Grady held his hands up in surrender. When the doorbell rang, he waved off your look of worry as he headed towards the door.

“Now remember what I told you about the head of the company,” he said with a gesture towards his face. He opened the door and gave what you had dubbed his television smile. “Mr Russo, glad to see you can be punctual. Come in.”

The man came in, giving a nod to Grady. He looked around the apartment, but didn’t even look at you twice.

“My guys are going to come in and get a feel for the layout if that’s alright. They won’t mess with anything, but they need to know all points of entry in the apartment.”

“Feel free,” you said with a wave of your hand, earning a second glance from him. 

He nodded a bit, ushering his guys in. He gave them their orders which included having one stand outside of your apartment door. While the others made their way around your apartment, Mr Russo walked over to where you were standing.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m Billy Russo, head of Anvil.”

“Just call me Y/N, please,” you said as you accepted his hand. “So you’re in charge of keeping me safe?”

He raised an eyebrow before he gave a stiff nod.

“Our first point of action is to make sure that the apartment is secure. Once we’re done with that, we’ll need to talk about your schedule. I see from what your manager sent that you have an interview that you were going to do, but I don’t know if that’s a good idea. It’s available to the public and it’s all over the internet which means your biggest fan knows about it.”

Mr Russo turned away from you at one point to address one of his guys. While he did, you gave yourself permission to study the man. You hadn’t immediately noticed how attractive the man was, but it was obvious now. Not even the scars on his face could distract you from it. His dark eyes were intent and alert, moving over every inch of the room he was in. You watched his lips as he spoke them, followed the line of his jaw and the length of his neck. His hair was slicked back, longer on top than on the sides.

You felt something buzzing under your skin, your fingers itching. You made your way over to the notebook on your coffee table, plucking up the pencil you kept beside it. 

You wrote a few lines, tapping your pencil on the page to a beat in the back of your head.

“Ah, writing? Good, if you can’t do anything else that I’ve asked, at least you can work on a new song,” Grady said as he came back into the room. “Mr Russo, if you have issues with her doing the interview, we’re going to need to come up with an alternative plan. Miss Y/L/N can’t stay cooped up in this apartment until the man is caught. She’s an artist and needs to be out with her fans.”

“I would think she would need to be safe more,” Mr Russo said in a dry tone.

“Grady,” you cautioned with a shake of your head, “I think we should defer to the professional here. If we have to shift some things around for the next few weeks, that’s not much to ask in the grand scheme. I did just finish a fourteen month long tour.”

Grady sighed, pulling his phone out.

“I’ll get on it,” he said as he left the apartment, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“Wasn’t sure which of you were in charge,” Mr Russo said as he turned to look at where you were perched on the edge of the couch. “My guys have pointed out a few weaknesses in the security here, so we’re going to install some upgrades. It’ll be a bit noisy here for the rest of the day.”

You shrugged a shoulder and picked up a pair of noise cancelling headphones you had on the shelf of the coffee table.

“You guys can do what you need. If anyone needs me, just tap me on the shoulder.”

Mr Russo seemed surprised by that. You pulled the headphones on and plugged them into your phone. You hesitated just a moment too long in playing any music and you were just barely able to catch him say something.

“–not what I expected.”

You tugged the headphones down around your neck, giving him a strange look.

“What was that?”

He cleared his throat, obviously unaware that you had heard him the first time.

“I said that you’re not what I expected.”

You smiled as you leaned back on the couch a bit. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but you noticed there was a certain center of gravity that kept him steady at all times.

“What’d you expect? A spoiled princess who was going to make your life hell?”

“Honestly? Yes,” he said with a laugh, not a trace of shame on his face. “I guess I expected some primadona that was going to do everything in her power to make me regret taking this job.”

You grinned as you grabbed your headphones once more.

“Sorry to disappoint you Mr Russo,” you teased as you tugged the headphones back onto your head, “but I’m just a normal girl that got lucky.”

This time you started to play your music, drowning out anything he might have said to that. 

------

“Miss Y/L/N,” a familiar voice called from the living room, “there’s something that you need to see.”

You crossed the length of the office that you had set up a small recording studio in. Once in the living room, you saw that Mr Russo was holding what looked like a DVD case in his hand.

“What’s that?”

He gestured to the television. On it was a night vision video of someone sleeping in a bed. It took you a few moments to recognize yourself. And it took even longer to recognize that that was a hotel room from the tour.

“What the hell?”

Mr Russo fast forwarded the video a bit. There were more like that, images of you sleeping in various hotel rooms. Some of the videos showed you changing and Russo was went forward quicker for your sake. And then there was a video of you in bed, legs spread, your hand–

The screen went dark. Mr Russo put the remote down, reaching up to tap on the wire in his ear.

“Jameson, I want you to check the security footage. This was delivered to the building and I want to know who brought it. Franklin, I want you to get a list from Grady of any of the hotels that Miss Y/L/N had stayed in for her tour. I want to know how these videos were taken. On the double.”

You sat down heavily on the ottoman that was thankfully nearby. You weren’t sure you could have stood for much longer.

“It’s never going to end, is it?”

He dropped down to one knee next to you, reaching out to grab your hand.

“We’re going to figure it out and we’re going to catch him,” he promised with a confidence you were eager to believe. “You’re safe here. I’m going to keep you safe.”

You nodded, your eyes falling from his face to his hand on yours.

“I thought I was safe in those hotels. We always used fake names, I always had a decoy car so that no one would know where I was going. I thought I was safe. This… this guy saw things. That video showed me changing, showed me… I feel violated.”

“That’s how he wants you to feel. He wants you to feel like he can get to you anywhere. But that stops now, okay? He’s not going to get that close again.”

You let out a watery laugh, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had started to well up in your eyes.

“Thank you Mr Russo,” you said with a small sniffle.

He squeezed your hand before he stood up. He moved over to grab a box of tissues and moved back to where you were sitting.

“Call me Billy,” he said pointedly as he shook the box to get your attention. 

You hesitated before you took a tissue.

“Billy. Okay. But only if you actually call me Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you still call me Miss Y/L/N,” you teased as you wiped your nose.

“Alright. Y/N.” He smiled, the action making his scars pull a bit.

It wasn’t fair that something so simple, a smile, could make your heart speed up.

“I should probably call Grady. He needs to know,” you said as you gestured to the blank screen, wincing at the reminder of the last thing that had played. “And uh, if you could pretend you didn’t see anything?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he grabbed the DVD case and handed it to you. “I just saw a few clips of you sleeping.”

He turned to head towards the door, that smile still on his lips.

“Thanks Billy,” you said, testing the name out for the first time. 

He hesitated next to the door, turning his head just enough to see that the smile had somehow intensified.

“You’re welcome Y/N.”

------

“Ah, I’ve got–shit, ow! I’ve got it!”

You were on the floor. You weren’t sure how you got there, but you were on the floor. There was a creak nearby and you turned your head in time to catch a grin from Billy.

“You’re drunk,” he said as he stared down at you.

“I dropped my pencil,” you said as you held it up in victory, “but I found it!”

He shook his head and knelt down next to you.

“I don’t think this was covered in my protection detail,” he said as he looked you over. “Keeping you safe from your stalker, sure, but protecting you from your own bad decisions?”

“Hey!” You pointed the pencil at him, not even noticing when he tugged it from your fingers so that you didn’t accidentally stab him. “This wasn’t a bad decision. There’s a video of me getting myself off that’s being spread around the internet. I’m allowed to want to drown my liver.”

Billy sighed and grabbed you around your middle, tugging you up. Then he hefted you onto the couch.

“Your manager got the video taken down,” he started, but you let out a snort.

“Yeah, like that’s gonna stop it. I had to delete Twitter because of how many notifications I was getting.”

Billy sat down beside you. You couldn’t help but think that this was the first time he’d been this close to you.

“Did you watch it?” At his curious look, you gestured at the television across the room. “You turned it off that day, but it’s on the internet. Have you watched the whole thing?”

He shook his head, meeting your eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t get on the internet much as it is, but I wouldn’t do that to you.”

It was nice. You felt that buzz under your skin, the same one that you got when you knew you needed to write something. This was telling you something else though. You leaned forward into his personal space, grinning when he didn’t even twitch. Your hand went to his knee, sliding up a little bit on his thigh.

“Would you like to see it in person?”

His face didn’t change.

“You’re drunk.”

You shrugged a shoulder, your hand sliding a little higher up his thigh. When he didn’t move, you leaned back a bit and let your hand drift down your stomach towards your shorts.

“C’mon don’t you wanna–”

His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging your hand away from your body and pressing it against the couch. Your heart started to pound, curious and aroused, but he simply stood up and took a step away from the couch.

“It’s my job to protect you. If that means I have to protect your from yourself, I will. Drink some water, take some aspirin, and go to bed.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Then you stood up, pushing past him and away from the couch. You needed to put some space between you and the rejection.

Of course he’d reject you. What would he want with a spoiled popstar? What would he care about a musician? He was a military man, a businessman. He probably dated CEOs or models or–

“It’s not that,” he said, drawing your attention to the fact that you had said all of that out loud.

“I don’t need a breakdown of it Mr Russo,” you said as you turned to face him, blinking when you realized he had followed you across the living room. “It’s fine. You’re here to do a job, right? Here to protect me. It’s fine, it’s great, you’re doing a great job.”

You said that last bit with a bit of a hiccup, the alcohol and your emotions building in your chest. You felt anger building too, itching it’s way to the top of your throat.

“You’re doing such a good job protecting me, right? I mean, the entire world got to see me with my fingers in my pussy, but sure, I’m safe.”

You spun back away from him, marching towards your bedroom. When you slammed the door, it made the pictures on the walls rattle. There was nothing but silence on the other side. You stayed there for the longest time, half hoping he would knock on the door, but in the distance you heard the front door open and shut.

Alone. That’s what you were good at. That’s what you were going to always be. Alone.

You let out a pathetic laugh, tears building in your eyes. There was a song in that, wasn’t there? Maybe you’d have to scrap the song you were working on about the man that made your heart beat fast and settle for a song about being alone in a crowded room.

------

“Fuck,” you groaned as you rubbed your forehead, tucking your face into your arm as you half curled up on the counter. “I’m never drinking again.”

“I find that people never mean that,” you heard a voice say from behind you. 

You winced at the voice. Not just because it was a little louder than you would have liked, but because it was Billy. You weren’t drunk enough to have forgotten the embarrassment the night before. It played on repeat in your head all night in technicolor. 

Usually when he was there at night, he was gone for the morning shift. He didn’t come by every day, but he did take shifts with the other Anvil employees that watched you. And while they usually stayed outside of the apartment, Billy was the only one that ever felt comfortable being in there with you.

You really wished he didn’t feel comfortable. You wished he had left in the morning like he usually did. You wished… you wished…

“I really don’t need a lecture today,” you mumbled into the crook of your arm. 

“Good thing I’m not here to lecture you then.” You could hear him shift around a bit before he spoke again. “How much do you remember from last night?”

All of it. You remembered every painful moment of it. Flirting with him, touching him and then touching yourself. You remembered his hand on your wrist, the hope in your chest that was extinguished in an instant. The rejection.

You were just a job for him. He was just there to protect you.

“I–”

“Mr Russo,” a voice called from outside of the door with a knock, before it opened to reveal a member of Anvil, “there’s a gentleman downstairs that says he knows who released the video. He wants to speak with you.”

Billy gave a tight nod to his employee. When the door was shut and the two of you were alone again, he turned back to look at you. You had sat up at the revelation, and with Billy looking at you like that? You wanted to curl back up.

“You should go check on that,” you said as you gestured to the door with your chin. “It’s your job, right?”

He stood up a bit straighter, giving you a tense nod before he turned around on his heel. You watched him head to the door, fighting back the urge to call his name. 

Maybe this was almost over. Maybe your stalker would be caught soon and you’d be safe to return to your life from before.

Maybe you wouldn’t have much more time with Billy.

You didn’t want to think about that.

------

“We’ll get you outside and into the car,” Billy said from beside you, his eyes scanning the crowd of screaming fans that had gathered outside of the building. “I’d like to know who told the world that you were coming here today.”

It was supposed to be a short trip to the recording studio to do something for the song you had been working on. Billy had said it wasn’t a good idea, but you were tired of being cooped up. When he had relented into letting you go, he had said it would be a good idea for it to just be the two of you. He had his men on standby at least.

“I can’t even see the car,” you said as you tugged your hood down a bit, turning so that they couldn’t get photos of you. “How are we going to get out there in this? It’s never been like this before.”

Billy gestured towards the glass doors where you could see men in Anvil uniforms coming up.

“They’ll get the crowd under control,” he said with a nod, “and then we’ll have to make a break for it. Stick close to me, don’t pause for pictures or autographs. You can be the media darling once we’re sure your stalker isn’t out there with them.”

You nodded, hugging your arms around your chest. 

“I guess you were right about this being a bad idea Mr Russo,” you said quietly as you turned away from the door completely. 

He didn’t react to the name. Ever since the night you’d gotten drunk, you’d made a habit of keeping that distance between the two of you. It was for your sake as much as it was his. You didn’t want to put him back in that position.

And it was easier to pretend you hadn’t started to fall for him if you reminded yourself that he was just there to protect you. It was just a job to him. He was a professional.

Once Anvil had the crowd controlled and separated enough to get through, Billy wrapped his arm around you and led you to the door.

“Just stay close to me,” he whispered into your ear before he pushed the door open.

The two of you moved together, tucked in close as the raging fans pushed closer and closer. At some point you heard a yell of ‘get back’ right before you felt the swell of the crowd start to close in behind you. They must have broken through the barriers, deciding to take the chance.

Fans were touching your sleeves, your legs. Billy kept his arm around you, but at one point you felt someone grab your wrist. They were begging for a photo and you were yanked sideways, your arm aching immediately. As you tried to tell them that you had to leave, you felt something sharp and hot through your side.

“Billy!”

He was there in an instant, pushing the phone down and dragging you the last few feet to the car. He pushed you into the back seat before he joined you. You were about to ask how he was going to drive from the backseat but you realized someone was in the front seat already. 

“Drive. And someone is going to answer for letting the barricades fall,” Billy barked out as he turned to watch the crowd start to grow smaller as his employee raced out of the lot. “We were ambushed. I lost her at one point, do you realize what could have happened?”

“Billy?”

“I want an after action from every person out there. I want a minute to minute description of what happened. I need to know exactly–”

“BILLY!”

He stopped his tirade and turned to look at you. You saw him gauge the look on your face before he looked down to where you had your hand pressed to your side. Red was starting to seep through your fingers.

“Fuck. Hospital, now!”

He pulled your hand away to look at the cut, swearing again. He yanked his jacket off to ball up and press against the wound, holding the pressure there.

“When did this happen? Why didn’t you–”

“I didn’t realize until we were in the car,” you said through gritted teeth as you leaned back, the pain stretching with you. “Was it bad? I think the adrenaline kept me from feeling most of it.”

“Looked pretty deep,” he admitted as he looked through the windshield, checking to see where you were. “Not long now, we’re almost at the hospital. You’ll probably just need stitches.”

You nodded, closing your eyes for a second as you tried to brace through the pain. It burned. The only comparison you could think of was like a papercut, only so much more. 

“It takes you being stabbed to call me Billy again?”

You opened your eyes in startled realization. You had called him Billy, hadn’t you? A glance to him showed that he looked worried, but there was something else there too. Something more.

“Caught up in the moment, I guess,” you said with a wince of pain. 

“I prefer Billy to Mr Russo. From you at least,” he added with a strained smile as he applied a little more pressure against your side.

“I need it to be Mr Russo,” you admitted with a ragged inhale, deciding you might as well admit it now. “I need the reminder that you’re just protecting me. That I’m just a job to you.”

You didn’t miss the subtle shake of his head. He leaned in close to you, his eyes darting up to where his employee was breaking countless laws to get you to the hospital in a hurry.

“You’re not just a job to me. You haven’t been for some time.”

Oh. A new type of heat started to spread in your stomach. You turned to look at Billy, tried to figure out if he was saying what you thought he was, but the car jolted to a stop. The driver turned around and looked at the two of you with wide eyes.

“We’re here,” he said a moment before the door was opened.

You were ushered out by some nurses, having been called by someone on Billy’s payroll. When you looked behind you, you saw Billy standing helplessly next to the car before the doors closed behind you.

------

The stitches itched, but you kept your hand away from them. You had gotten back to your apartment at almost midnight, your body aching and sore from being up for over twenty four hours. The stress and excitement had finally gotten to you.

Billy had left to go talk to his men about what happened in the hopes that someone had seen the attacker. You’d only found that out through the guy that he had left in charge while he was gone.

His words in the car made you unsure where you stood. You weren’t just a job to him, sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted you. Maybe he considered the two of you to be friends. Would it be so bad to be friends with Billy?

God, yes, it would be horrible. To be close to him and not have him? It would be torture. You were sure you’d rather be stabbed again.

“Y/N?”

You paused as you started to lift the sweater over your head. You limped towards the living room where Billy was standing. His eyes met yours and you tried not to show how badly you were shaking.

“Did you catch him?”

He shook his head, dropping his jacket onto the floor. He crossed the distance in a few strides, his hands coming up to frame your face. You had only a few seconds to prepare yourself before his lips were on yours. It felt like he was trying to devour you, his mouth crushed against yours. His hands moved to your sides, one hand pressed ever so gently against the gauze on your side. His other hand tugged you closer, pressed your body along his.

“So that’s what you meant by me not being just a job,” you whispered against his lips, fighting back a smile.

“The reason I stopped you that night was because you were drunk and I wasn’t sure if you meant it. I thought you were just looking for something to distract yourself and I didn’t want that to be me. I didn’t want to get only part of you. Not when I want the whole damn thing.”

You clenched your fist in the front of his shirt, tugging him down into another kiss.

“Idiot,” you chided fondly, kissing his jaw as you did. “It’s yours. Whatever you want, it’s yours. As long as I get you in return.”

He gave you that grin that set your soul on fire.

“Deal.”

------

You were tracing your fingers over Billy’s face, the scars uneven. His eyebrows furrowed a bit and he opened one eye to look at you.

“I thought they’d disgust you,” he admitted quietly.

“Why would they disgust me?”

He shrugged a shoulder as he closed his eye once more.

“I see the stares I get. I know what people think.”

You smiled and leaned up, pressing a kiss to the scar on his jaw. Then the next. And the next. You kissed each scar until he rolled the two of you over, his mouth descending upon yours with a smile.

“When are you going to realize that I’m not like other people?”

He laughed as he kissed you again, his hands careful on your side even as he moved between your legs once more.

“Think I’m starting to get the memo,” he teased as he got you ready for a second round.

------

They did finally catch your stalker. He admitted that he had gotten access to you from your manager who hadn’t thought you’d actually be in danger with Anvil at your side. He just wanted to generate some buzz, keep your name in the news.

Once you fired Grady, you made another decision. It was a long time coming. 

Billy walked into the apartment, frowning when he saw you packing a suitcase. He crossed his arms over his chest, a protective gesture if ever you saw one.

“You leaving?”

You smiled as you dropped the shirt you were folding. You made your way over to Billy and put your hands on his shoulders, lifting yourself up so that you could give him a kiss.

“I never wanted to be a popstar. I like writing music, but I’m not big on performing. That tour I just did? It just made me see how much I don’t want that to be my life. So I’m going to become a songwriter instead.”

Billy nodded slowly, his hands going to your hips. His left hand went immediately to your side, his thumb running across the scar from your attack.

“And that requires you to pack a bag?”

You laughed and looked over at where you had been packing.

“This apartment is in the record label’s name. Since I’m going to be my own person, I’ve decided to get my own place. It’s not far from your place, actually,” you added with a grin.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours.

“I’ve got a few ideas how we can christen your new place,” he teased as his lips went over your neck.

You couldn’t wait.

X

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[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Secrets” Part 3

The Joker did something so unforgivable and despicable you don’t ever want to see him  again. After months of avoiding The King of Gotham, you really can’t understand why he appointed you as the only person to take care of his son in case of emergency. There’s no way you’ll accept to help the little boy in his father’s absence, yet the three years old has no fault in what happened between you and your ex.

Frost just called with a security report for The Joker: most of the henchmen in the building are dead; five missing for the moment and his best guess is that they are the ones who sold his boss out and allowed Ezra to get inside the Penthouse. Maybe even helped the New York gang kill the others; no way to know for sure until watching the footage from all the cameras scattered around the premises.

You and J barely convinced Alexis to go back to sleep after he was given a bath: the three years old was very agitated and scared, which is understandable after what happened just a couple of hours ago. The fact that he’s sick didn’t help either: his fever increased and you had to put in extra effort in order to convince him to swallow his medicine.

“Can y-you take him to Los Angeles for a few days until I clean up the m-mess here?” The Joker asks, struggling to wrap new bandages around the surgical marks on his right leg. The soft fabric of the sweat pants keep on sliding down his foot and J lifts it up again, frustrated he can’t manage to keep it in place.

“Yes, no problem,” you agree and check your cell, waiting for your father to call.

Jase didn’t answer his phone and Y/N left a short message urging him to get a hold of her as soon as possible. You really don’t know how you’ll explain what you did: invoking the code in order to offer protection to another clan is a serious matter and The Godfather won’t be happy to hear that J has LA’s alliance now.

Not after everything The Clown Prince of Crime did.

“For God’s sake,” you sigh and decide to be the bigger person, kneeling in front of an irritated Joker that just can’t get the gauze around his scars. “Hold this,” you frown and he grabs one end of the roll while you cover his skin with the dressing. “It seems healed,” you point out, continuing to patch him up.

“The doctor told m-me to do it for one more month. Nothing that can be d-done about the way I talk; I hope it goes a-away,” J shares extra information you don’t care to hear. “A-are you sure you don’t mind t-taking my son?” the question makes you yank at the bandages and the change in mood is evident.

“I don’t mind,” you respond through your clenched teeth. “What I do mind though is being lied to. What I do mind is you being secretly married to another woman. What I do mind is you pretending you liked me,” you pause for a second to breathe in much needed air. “What I do mind is you convincing me that we should have a baby when I didn’t want one. What I do mind is you saying that if it’s a boy we should name him Alexis when you already had a son named Alexis with your wife!!!” you raise your voice, incapable of stopping the tirade.

“So?” The Joker bitterly replies, in a very foul disposition himself.

You slap J and he instinctively closes his eyes before the second strike lands on his already numb cheek.

“A-are you done?” he growls, barely restraining the urge to escalate the fight that just started.

You glare at him without blinking, enraged by the indifference of his hurtful actions. So many thoughts rushing through your head and you don’t have a chance to tell The Joker everything you want because your phone suddenly rings. You take it out of the pocket, correctly guessing your father is calling back.  

“Do this yourself!” you hiss and undo the bandages wrapped around J’s scars, getting up in a hurry.

“W-what the fuck, Y/N?!”

You don’t even pay attention to his tantrum since reporting to the Godfather is more important than listening to your former boyfriend’s complaint.

“When Alexis wakes up, I’m gone! I don’t want to spend one extra single minute in your presence!” you shout and rush towards the terrace, pressing the screen of your cell. “Hi daddy,” you soften your tone and step outside, slamming the glass door behind you.

J forcefully exhales, staring at the gauze loosely hanging down his foot.

“Goddammit,” he grumbles and bites his lower lip, not excited on how the conversation ended.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been a jerk for once?...

Definitely.

Not after what you did for him and his son.  

The woman J used in such a despicable manner didn’t think twice about saving a child that’s not hers; LA’s future queen didn’t even hesitate to save the man that made a fool out of her and didn’t deserve any kind of help no matter the circumstances.

The Joker shouldn’t have been a jerk…

Not today.

*************

Three days afterwards

“Sir, The Godfather is here,” Frost announces on intercom to a less than pleased King of Gotham. 

“…Great…” J talks in a low voice, dreading the imminent meeting he was expecting anyway. “Let him pass,” the consent is given even if Jase doesn’t need it: the mobster is already in the elevator, going up to a Penthouse he hates infinitely more since The Joker’s secret was discovered.

Your father stomps out the elevator, immediately noticing the green haired Clown Prince of Crime sitting down on the couch closest to the center of the living room. The Joker wants to get up but Jase cuts him off:

“Sit down and don’t insult me with more fake respect!”

J smirks and The Godfather is already fed up with person he always despised and barely tolerated because of his daughter’s request.

“I heard we have a situation,” Jase grumbles and halts in front of The Joker, his menacing demeanor warning of a disastrous outcome in case things go wrong.

“You c-can say that,” the vague answer makes your parent lose his temper:

“YOU WILL DO NOTHING! You won’t seek revenge, you won’t move a finger until our year of forced partnership is done!! Gotham is under LA’s protection for 12 months and there’s nothing that can be done!”

“A-apparently,” The Joker’s insolent remark prompts so much outrage it’s nearly impossible to suppress the damage:

“You insolent prick! You were learning how to crawl when I was already building my empire! Do you think I’m intimidated by the likes of you?! I AM THE GODFATHER!!!” Jase shouts while J puckers his lips, aware he shouldn’t push it yet he can’t shut up:

“And I’m The Joker! I w-won’t let anyone…” 

“You’re The Joker?!” your father interrupts. “Do you know you would be dead right now if it wasn’t for Y/N?! Why do you think I didn’t come for you when I found out what you did, hm? Do you think I just turned a blind eye to your affront? ME??!! NEVER!! I wanted to do exactly what Ezra did and my daughter begged me not to!!! You’re still here breathing because of Y/N! Do you understand?!!”

The two men hatefully stare at each other, none of them willing to lose any ground despite the sticky crisis they landed in. J is fuming and your parent is far past enraged: he’s furious to the point of sharing something personal to prove his affirmations.

“I never understood what my daughter saw in you, Joker!” Jase snarls. “I had such a bad feeling about your relationship and I’m never wrong about that stuff!”

“Then y-you should have t-told her!” The Clown bites back since this is the perfect opportunity to retaliate.

“I DID!” your father screams. “But Y/N insisted she loves you and I had to stomach your company because if she was happy, then I guess I had to accept it! And for what?! For you to break her heart again after it took her forever to recover from what happened with Sean?!”

The Joker surely wishes to lash out but the last sentence catches him by surprise: why would The Godfather mention Sean? The insane events that occurred a few years ago are sort of common knowledge in the underworld: Sean was your boyfriend until it was discovered he was actually an undercover CIA agent.

“I failed my daughter,” your father’s firm tone diminishes while confessing to the ugly truth. “Sean passed all the background checks; there was nothing suspicious about him. Believe me when I tell you I was very thorough: I wouldn’t just let anyone come so close to her. And when I found out by accident…” Jase deeply inhales, flustered, “…it was goddamned late, 10 days after he proposed.”

J’s eyes get big at the revelation: he had no idea about this part of the story and for once he keeps quiet and listens, intrigued.

“I went over to their house with my crew and dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night. Y/N was very agitated, not comprehending what was going on until I told her and showed the evidence. I’ll never forget the look on her face: she seemed so lost staring at those papers and pictures certifying that Sean was Matt Simmons, CIA agent infiltrating our lives in order to bring me down. He didn’t care about her; she was just an assignment…”

The Joker wants to finally reply, yet The Godfather won’t allow interference:

“He knew what was in store for him and he kept on begging, promising he was truly in love with her and stating he didn’t report to his superiors in a while and had no intention in doing so. Who knows?... Maybe he did love her after all…,” Jase straightens his shoulders. “I doubt Y/N heard any of his vows; she was too shocked to process the gravity of the news. I should have been more vigilant, but I didn’t see it coming: she yanked the gun out of my hand and shot him in the head. I think she regretted her choice the moment she pulled the trigger, but it was already too late…” your father mutters.

The Joker weights in all this information thrown at him since he had no clue you were the one that killed your ex: everyone assumed it must have been your father.

“Do you know how hard it is to watch your only child die a little bit more each day? I‘m not talking about death in the real sense of the word, but about the worst kind of demise: when you lose someone you loved so much that nothing else matters. And then you came along,” Jase shrieks getting to the conclusion he was aiming for since the beginning of the dialogue: “And you were infinitely more appalling than Sean: at least he was doing his job, while you were nothing but a greedy, manipulative asshole!”

The King of Gotham is so aggravated by The Godfather’s comments his heart is pounding out of his chest.

“Y-you can’t t-talk to me like this!!” he stands up to confront Jase but your parent is immune to the Clown’s threat.

“I can and I will!!” he yells. “That’s why you will do nothing! Got it?! Stay put! In the meantime, be grateful Y/N is such a saint offering safe haven to a little boy that’s not hers! If you think tending to Alexis is a piece of cake, THINK AGAIN!!!!!!” Jase lectures a stunned Joker to the point of starting a physical altercation, but he manages to contain himself and walks away towards the elevator, mumbling: “Son of a bitch!”

The Joker is left in the middle of the living room, completely stupefied at your father’s rant: it’s tough for him to grasp the notion of not being invincible or untouchable. And he is aware why Ezra came after him: because The King of Gotham did to his daughter the same thing that was done to you. J used her also in order to acquire what he wanted since his wife didn’t mind the little indiscretions as long as they were able to get richer, more powerful and influential. And now Nessa was lying 6 feet under after he barely escaped the ambush that almost claimed his life too.

Once his secret was out, everything came crashing down so fast he didn’t have time to process what it all meant: when you claw your way up without any remorse, you might end up bleeding worse than the ones you tear apart.

************

2 weeks later

Nixon is guiding The Joker around the patio, the final destination only a few feet away: he’s here to pick up his son and the bodyguard thought you’re still outdoors, yet there’s no sign of you or Alexis. Only Harvey Dent relaxing on the cozy sofa under the umbrella shadowing the guest from the late afternoon sunlight.

“Hm,” Nixon halts. “She was here a few minutes ago; I’ll go search for her. Please take a seat Mister Joker,” the man offers and J nonchalantly limps towards the ottoman opposite Two Face, sneering.

“Dent…”

Harvey taps his fingers on the mixed drink he’s holding, already annoyed by the green haired visitor.

“Joker…” he acknowledges the unwanted presence.

They watch in silence as the goon disappears inside the house before Dent inquires:

“Are you here to get your kid?”

“U-hum,” J admits. “You?”

“Visiting.”

The Joker tugs at his longer than usual locks gathered in a ponytail while bending over to grab a bottle of water from the table. A gust of wind blows a few shorter strands right on his face and he brushes them off, huffing.

“Y/N went to put your little boy to sleep; I guess he needed a nap,” Harvey communicates in such a sour manner it instantly irks J. “Some people wouldn’t recognize a good thing happening to their miserable existence even if they had it written black on white.”

The Clown grinds his teeth, vexed:

“You have s-something to say to me, D-Dent?!”

“Oh,” and the scarred ex-politician pauses before gulping down his cocktail,”I have plenty to say to you!”

The clash is inevitable but actually terminated before it blows out of proportions since you are coming out of the mansion.

J stands up and greets a displeased Y/N that was expecting him tomorrow morning, not that it really makes a difference: her world is turned upside down every time she sees him anyway.

“Alexis just fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you ignore his false politeness and march towards the two individuals postponing their brawl. “He often has nightmares after what happened with Ezra and it’s best to let him rest.”

“C-can I sleep here t-tonight then and we’ll take off in the m-morning?”

You are not a huge fan of the idea, yet you consent for the sake of the three year old that you took under your wing when you didn’t have to.

“OK. You can sleep in his room, there’s an extra bed in there. You can order food, one of my curriers can go pick it up for you. Or you can eat whatever you want from the fridge,” you extend your hospitality and bite in the same time: “I’m sure you remember where stuff is; nothing has changed except…everything.”

The Joker doesn’t reply and Harvey can’t help but realize how much you struggle to keep it together; he wonders if J realized also or if he even gives a damn. Probably not.

“Y/N,” Harvey intervenes. “When you have a moment, could we please work on my transaction?” he elegantly gets you out of the unpleasant meeting using the main reason he’s there for.

You momentarily snap out of it, grateful to oblige.

“Of course. Yes,” you add and escort him through the glass panels leading towards the stairs that will take Dent to the second floor where your bedroom is.

J is left alone, not that he doesn’t enjoy the solitude. He’s indeed debating on what he should have for dinner, maybe dishes he can share with his son after he wakes up from his nap. The Joker wishes to talk to you and he speculates you won’t want to listen to anything he has to say. Why bother?

He lost that privilege a long time ago.

*************

“How much would you like to invest?” you get on your laptop while Harvey is stretching on the leather sectional in front of the TV.

“Same as always, please.”

“Alright, it will take me a few seconds for the wire transfers between accounts,” you type in a frenzy and almost ignore his honest concern:

“Are you ok?”

“Huh?” you lift your head higher while glued to the screen: you crave the welcomed distraction so badly nothing else counts.

“Are you ok?” he repeats and the evasive response heightens his uneasiness regarding the apparent calm Y/N.

“I’m perfect, no worries,” you crack a smile and glance his way.

Dent scratches his scar, disputing on his next sentences.

“I’m asking because…e-hem…because you used to have this sparkle in your eyes and now it’s gone,” he blurs out before he loses confidence in his speech. “I know it’s not my place to comment, but I thought you should know someone noticed…”

Your hands stop on the keyboard and fighting the tears back is somehow so much harder than wearing the mask you parade with in front of everybody, including your father.

“You want to know how I noticed?” he pushes it more, hoping you will understand he’s well intended. “After Rachel died, I see the same emptiness daily when I look in the mirror. It might not be the same situation…”

“Harvey!!” you cut him off and he suddenly registers he’s out of line.

You sniffle and wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks, the bottled up emotions too strong to control.

“I’m very sorry,” he scoots over, upset he made you cry.

You start sobbing and Dent feels so bad he instantaneously curses his stupid decision.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut,” and he’s relieved when you grab his hand and squeeze it.

“Thank you,” you faintly articulate and Harvey offers the box of tissue from the coffee table with his free hand, still uneasy about your present condition. “You’re a good man,” you whisper and he shakes his head, regretfully informing:

“Used to be, honey. Used to be…”

You let go of his fingers and he softly caresses your shoulders since he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Yyyy/Nnnnn,” Alexis pushes the cracked door opened. “Ynnn/Nnnn,” he whines and you jump from your spot eager to lift him up in your arms.

“What is it sweetheart? Another bad dream?” you inquire and the little one rubs his eyes, pouting.

“Whe’s mommy?” he buries his face in your neck, comforted by the woman’s embrace.

“Your mommy’s very far away,” you signal Harvey to sit down since he’s preparing to flee. “I’ll return soon,” you wink and exit your bedroom in order to take the three year old back to his chamber.

“Whe’s daddy?” Alexis yawns and you gather the strength to be cheerful for an innocent child’s sake.

“Daddy will be here when you wake up,” you kiss his temple. “After your nap you can play in the backyard, then we’ll have dinner and you can watch cartoons, ok?”

“U-hum,” he agrees and you lay him in bed, covering him up with the soft blanket.

“Do you want your giraffe?” you push the toy on his pillow and he snatches it, sulking.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Y/N soothes The Joker’s son the best way she can, reckoning if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be alive right now.  And that makes her sadder.

The young boy got under her skin and even if he reminds her of his father’s deceit, she wouldn’t have it any other way; keeping Alexis close is a way to make sure she always stays alert:

When you give your heart away and it’s returned to you in pieces, a few will go missing each time it happens until there’s nothing left.

************

Two hours afterwards

J is walking towards your master bedroom, angered he left his cane on the patio: his leg is hurting and the limp only makes it worse. Ten minutes ago he received a text with new information that you and The Godfather will be interested in also: it might not change the situation as a whole, but the plot twist could ensure he takes full advantage of the forced alliance between LA and Gotham. That’s what The Joker does anyway: he exploits every tiny thing to his advantage and the fresh data is certainly no petty scrap.

The door to your room is still opened simply because when you have Alexis over you want him to have easy access to your quarters, most likely to snuggle under the covers with the nice lady that’s taking care of him.

J pries the door open and wants to call out your name when the sight compiles the opposite: you dozed off cuddled up to Harvey, both covered with his suits’ jacket. After you invited him to stay and watch a movie you passed out first and he didn’t dare wiggle; he just used his coat to ensure you’re not going to get cold with the AC blasting from the ceiling. Having Y/N near him felt genuinely peaceful and Dent snoozed without a care in the universe for the first time in years.

And even someone like The King of Gotham can’t help but discern the vague smile on Harvey’s lips: the smile of a man that’s been through hell and he’s finally granted a small piece of heaven.

Part 1: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/177920419051/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-1

Part 2: diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/178630090876/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-2

Also read: Masterlist

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Wattpad and AO3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[johnnysnostril]

You’ve Always Been Mine

chapter 13

`nori

i instantly gasped and threw my hands up, as wonho hit the floor.

“what the hell are you doing?!” i yelled at jooheon.

i had never seen that look in his eyes before. it was almost as if he turned into someone else.

the music felt like it was coming from my chest and everything was moving in slow motion. i felt the bass in my heart, and my breathing became short- as jooheon had moved himself ontop of wonho, punching him in the face.

“oh my god- they’re fighting over a girl!” someone from the crowd shouted.

i didn’t know what to do. my feet were glued to the floor as people started to move and gather around the two boys. phones were now being pulled out, and videos were being recorded. wonnho was trying to block every punch that jooheon was throwing, but unfortunately- it wasn’t working.

all i could think to do, was run.

i started running back to the table, crying and shouting for misun. hyungwon was the first to notice me. he stood up immediately and reached out, grabbing my arm. “what happened?” he shouted. i fell into his embrace and wrapped my arms around him.

“w-wonho..” i mumbled into his chest. i was starting to have a panic attack.

misun quickly made her way over to me, pulling me away from hyungwon and cupped my cheeks.

“nori- it’s okay. breathe, honey.” she said calmly.

“what’s going on?” shownu questioned. hyungwon looked out towards the bar and shook his head. “those two idiots-“

the rest of the members raced over to the scene, with shownu following behind.

`jooheon

all i could see was black. i dont even remember what happened, or how this all started.

the next thing i felt, was being pulled up by my arms and thrown back against the bar. a few security guards surrounded the area and blocked it off- pushing everyone back. i blinked a few times, then saw wonho getting up from the floor, with a bloody nose and a busted lip.

my eyes widened at the scene.

did i really just do that?

shownu grabbed hold of my shirt and balled his fist up. “are you insane?” he snapped. “look what you’ve done.”

minhyuk was wiping the blood from wonho’s nose as i looked over at the rest of my members. they all had this disappointing look on their faces.

“where’s nori?” i said pushing him back.

everyone’s phones were out and shining with the flash. all i could see were people pointing and pushing their cameras closer to the scene.

shownu wasnt too fond on that gesture. the expression on his face was serious, and i thought there was going to be a round two.

“you better pray to god, that manager hyung gets to you before i do.”

with that, shownu turned his back to me and the rest of my members left- leaving me to stand in my shame.

`misun

leading nori out to the getaway car, i wrapped one arm around her waist as we walked. she had one hell of an emotional night. and if shownu didnt beat jooheon’s ass- then i was definitely going to do so.

her makeup was ruined from all the crying she was doing, and her dress was completely trashed with liquor stains.

i shook my head as i helped her into the car.

“misun!”

i turned around and shownu was running in my direction. it felt good to see his face. i wasnt even mad at him anymore. i ran to him and hugged him tightly.

“are you guys okay?” he said squeezing me.

i nodded and pulled back a little. “what’s going on? nori hasn’t talked yet.”

shownu sighed and shook his head. “i’ll tell you later. for now, i need you guys to go to a hotel. it’s not safe. everyone has seen you guys with us and im sure all this drama will catch wind, at any moment now.” he said rubbing my shoulders.

“what do you mean it’s not safe for us?” i said afraid.

“misun, just trust me okay?” shownu said firmly. he turned me around and pushed me into the car, handing me the seat belt to strap in.

he glanced over at nori.

“im so sorry, for all of this. i’ll meet up with you guys later.” shownu leaned in a gave me a quick kiss before shutting the door and giving the driver the address to the hotel.

as we pulled up, the driver got out and escorted us inside- as he was instructed to do. he checked us in, and lead us up to the room.

“just to insure your safety, there will be a bodyguard outside your door. if you ladies need anything, just knock twice and they will get whatever you need.” he said smiling warmly. he bowed then opened the door for us, revealing the suit.

i stopped for a moment, admiring the beauty of this place.

“wow- thank you.” i announced. nori went straight to the couch and cuddle up with the pillows.

he bowed once again, then took his leave- shutting the door behind him.

i folded my arms as i looked back at nori- feeling more sorry for my bestfriend than anything. i didnt even know how to confront her.

i tossed my shoes off, leaving them on the floor- then joined nori on the couch, laying down next to her.

“wanna talk about what happened?” i asked softly.

she gently shook her head, not saying a word.

“we’ll talk when you’re ready then. no rush- how about i start a bath for you and make you some tea? yeah?” i said patting her cheek.

nori surprisingly agreed and i hoped up quickly, running to the bathroom

`nori

i thanked misun for the bath and tea, then she made her way out- shutting the bathroom door behind her.

i stripped myself of my clothes and shoes, along with the makeup and threw my hair up in a messy bun.

stepping into the water, i grabbed the teacup from the counter and sunk right in. i sighed and closed my eyes, taking a sip from the cup then setting it down.

i couldn't believe tonight. this entire thing was all seulgi’s fault.

jooheon and i would have never fought at the studio, if she didnt show up. which would have meant that we would’ve been talking before the stupid award show- and he could’ve invited me instead of her.

i didnt understand his obsession with her.

all of a sudden, kihyun’s words replayed in my brain.

“we all knew.”

how could shownu have known about jooheon taking seulgi- and not tell me. i wanted to be upset with him, but i just couldn't. he basically saved us from being mobbed by crazy fans tonight.

i leaned my head back and looked up towards the ceiling.

i wonder how wonho’s doing.

`shownu

i sat in the waiting area of the emergency room, with my head leaned back against the wall. my phone had been blowing up all night. from the rest of the members calling about wonho, to my manager, then misun. it was non-stop.

i knew i was going to get in trouble for this. this was going to be everywhere and everyone was going to know about it.

i let out a frustrated sigh and ran my palms down my face.

shortly after, wonho came walking around the corner- all patched up. i stood to my feet and walked up to him.

“how bad is it?” i asked.

“not that bad, just a fracture.” he said shrugging.

“im glad you’re okay man. everyone’s worried about you.” i said giving him a quick handshake.

wonho shook his head and released a soft laugh.

“im fine. really- i just know we’re about to get in a lot of trouble.”

during the car ride back home, manager hyung called as said he was meeting us at the dorm. which wasnt good.

wonho and i hopped out and walked upstairs, opening the door to silence.

everyone was sitting on the couch, and our manager was standing right in the center of the living room.

he obviously wasnt happy with us.

“have a seat.” he said angrily.

wonho sat next to changkyun and just as i was about to sit- manager hyung stopped me.

“when i made you leader of this group, i expected you to take care of everyone on the team.” he said yelling.

i stood tall with my hands clasped behind my back- military style.

“this is your fault, shownu. you’re the oldest. this should have never happened in your presence.” he continued.

i bowed and agreed.

“i sincerely apologize- it was not my intentions to embarrass you or the company, sir.”

he shook his head in disbelief as i bowed once again. he signaled me to take a seat, and i did as i was told.

“everyone else is dismissed- shownu, wonho and jooheon- stay.”

the rest of the members filed off to their rooms and quickly shut the door.

“would anyone like to explain this?”

our manager pulled out his phone, revealing a picture of me kissing misun before she left- a picture of wonho and nori holding hands, and one of many, of jooheon and wonho’s fight.

“i thought i clearly told you that your plus one, was supposed to be in the entertainment business. i have NEVER seen these ladies before. explain yourselves.”

“the woman in my picture is actually a photographer for one of the companies you own, sir. her name is misun” i voiced.

“and you were kissing her, why?” he questioned harshly.

“we just started dating today. i didnt get a chance to tell you before the event.” i lied. it was the only way to save her from this mess.

manager hyung was quiet for a moment as he thought.

“you’ll be releasing an official statement tomorrow, so prepare for that. you better hope you dont lose any fans over this. now- wonho.” he said turning in his direction.

“her name is nori- she works at a coffee shop.” he said in an honest tone.

he shook his head and sighed.

“well, not anymore. you ruined that for her. do you understand why i’m so upset with you guys?” he questioned.

we all nodded.

“misun, she might be okay- but nori? she wont be able to go back to her normal life.”

we sat in silence as he tried to calm himself down a bit.

“shownu, why dont you take wonho to go check on your dates. see that they’re safe. i dont wanna see your faces until tomorrow.”

wonho and i got up at the same time and quickly left the dorm.

`jooheon

i rolled my eyes at wonho as he left with shownu. that was supposed to be me. how in the hell was wonho just snatching nori away from me like that.

the door closed and the room became silent, once again.

“you’re suspended from all activity until further notice.” my manager said angrily.

“what?!” i said jumping up from the couch. “how is that even possible, we’re getting ready to go on tour!” i shouted.

he lifted his brow and pointed down at the couch, signaling me to have a seat.

i sat back down, pushing the pillows off the couch.

“the rest of your band mates, are preparing for the tour. you, will not. you’ll be lucky if you ever perform on a stage again.” he said leaning forward.

“pictures from the event will be released tomorrow and im pretty sure some videos will be involved. i dont wanna hear a word from you, until this is all cleared up. once i find out more about what’s going to be released- i will handle everything with the lawyers. i dont need you on any social media. and i mean, NOTHING. you will not be allowed to leave the dorm without an escort and your exact location must be provided at all times. when im not around, im still there. my eyes and ears will be everywhere, so dont even THINK about pulling a fast one. do you understand?” he shouted.

i clenched my jaw together and snickered.

“yes, i understand.” i said looking off to the side.

turning on his heels, he left- slamming the door behind him.

[kurara-black-blog]

Terror Of The Ancient Noah Mask

Date: 02/12/18

Words: 2048 *snorts*

Warnings: Klance, Inuyasha AU, Crappy.

Tag: @moonsworllld ; @xarphay ; @skydisneylover ; @mutantgurls ; @spooky-the-owl

A/N: I love Inuyasha, I love Voltron. I love Lance. his is not very good, but I really wanted to write it~

This is episode 11 of the anime!

With his bicycle ready to go, Lance carefully looked around him, trying to spot any red in the middle of the green forest. He was alone, thankfully, no signs of the hothead nearby. With a short relieved sigh, he started pedaling with everything he had, which was a lot, mind you, in direction of the well.

Sadly, Lance didn’t have much luck.

“Wait a second, idiot!”

Lance was able to stop before he rolled over the boy, although a part of him told him he should have just rolled over that annoying dog. Said dog was standing there, looking like the angry bastard he was, violet eyes flashing with a temper.

“You’re going back to that weird world?! Are you trying to run away?! We have shit to do!”

“Oh, out of my way, mullet dog! I have exams to take and I can’t afford to miss them!”

The fact was that Lance had to keep his grades up if he wanted his Exchange Program to go on without any difficulties. He was already risking a lot by not attending class for so long, and maybe Mr. Shirogane was destroying his reputation with all the weird diseases he used as an excuse. Because life couldn’t be hard only in Feudal Era, no, it had to be hard in his world too.

“Well, fuck that! I’ll destroy this so you can’t run away anymore!” Keith—the half-dog—grabbed a large rock, ready to destroy the wooden well. Lance didn’t hesitate.

“Keith, sit!”

Keith stubbornness was no match for Lance’s consecutive commands of “sit”, the boy falling face first on the floor, the rock falling on top of him. He groaned, cursing Lance in between his groans of pain.

“Who said I’m running away, dog?! I’ll be back in three days! Stay here!”

With that, Lance was gone inside the well.

“Why didn’t you bring the dog man with you?”

“No way, that mullet head is impossible to deal with! It was a bother to even come here without him stopping me!” Shoving the last bit of food in his mouth, Lance huffed, “Talking about coming back, Mr. Shirogane, I am glad you worry so much, but can you not throw sake in my head next time?”

The old man only laughed heartily, petting the family cat, Black. Lance smiled softly, it was hard to be angry with the man. He reminded Lance of his own grandpa, all wise eyes and cheekily knowing smiles. Finishing his meal, Lance thanked Mrs. Shirogane, Mr. Shirogane’s daughter, for the food, messed Tsuna’s hair, Mrs. Shirogane’s son, washed his dishes and went to his room to put on his uniform.

It would be a long day at school.

At least his hair didn’t smell like sake anymore.

After a very embarrassing conversation with his friends about his really bad health, and an even more embarrassing encounter with who could be the cutest boy in school about his very poor health, Lance could say with absolute certainty he was done.

“You’re dating Inai?!”

“No.”

“I think he likes you!”

“I know, Taira.”

“Well? Don’t you want to date him?”

“I’m not really interested in dating right now.” It was a complete lie, of course. It is not that Lance didn’t want to date, it is because how could he explain to his boyfriend or girlfriend the reason they couldn’t go out in the next month it’s because he has to go back in time to collect pieces of a super powerful glass ball?

Yeah. No.

Ushijima Amari, Akagawa Taira and Yuhara Natsumi were three kind and funny girls that were glued at the hip even before Lance came in the picture. They had promptly welcomed Lance in their group, and he was forever grateful. He hated feeling like a fish outside water.

Staring at the honestly horrendous slippers Inai Hachiro gave him, Lance wondered if the boy was somehow related to Mr. Shirogane, remembering the old man’s weird medicines and whatnots.

“Could it be… that you are already dating someone?”

“No, no, no! Nope. Not dating. Single as they come.”

“Then, then! What’s your type?”

Lance sighed, knowing they wouldn’t shut up unless he gave them something to satiate their hunger for gossip. He loved the girls, but they could be pretty annoying when they wanted. Not as annoying as Keith, but almost.

“Someone who’s not violent or selfish… Also, someone accepting and affectionate.”

The complete opposite of Keith, go figure.

While Romelle prepared some herbal medicine for a sick villager, Keith grunted. Hot pain pierced his spine every time he tried to get up. That rock really did a number on him.

“Keith, stop laying around and go find information of the Jewel fragments.”

“Shut up, you old witch! Go eat some grass!”

Keith swore that day, laying on the floor of the old priestess’ house, that he would punch Lance in the face as soon as that boy came back from his world.

“Can I sleep here today?” Tsuna asked, interrupting Lance’s studies.

“Of course, if you don’t mind the lights being on.”

That day could, at the very least, be called weird. A sudden fire in one of the deposits, Mr. Shirogane getting hurt and being found passed out with sacred seals all over his face and even inside his mouth, then suddenly one of the firemen trucks taking off like a madman was driving it. As if it wasn’t enough, Mr. Shirogane had recovered the conscience for enough time to mutter some random words about the Meat Mask and how no one should touch it.

Lance surely didn’t blame the boy for not wanting to be alone.

“Something weird is happening, I think. Grandpa wouldn’t do something so weird.”

The older boy opened his mouth to agree, but the sudden noise made him change his plans. Grabbing the flask were he kept the Jewel fragments—it was an instinct to immediately search for them when something happened—, Lance threw himself on Tsuna, protecting him from pieces of what once was a wall.

The basket of a firetruck was struck inside his room, and from it came out something. A creature made of melted blackness, with no defined form. It seemed to leak away and yet gravitate towards its center, that center being a white mask in the middle of the blackness. Painted eyes stared at Lance, carved smile sending shivers down the boy’s spine. The creature’s voice came, smooth and monotone.

“The Jewel… give me… the Jewel…”

“A demon! In this time?” Lance thought, eyes widening, “Must be the jewel’s presence!” As soon as he reached that conclusion, the boy lifted Tsuna in his arms and ran. He had to get out of that house. He had to get Keith. He had no means to fight at the moment, dressed in his cotton pajamas and comfy slippers. He should’ve brought his bow.

He would do that if he survived to see a next time.

Lance did not stop running when the monster attacked, dogging to the best of his abilities. He was glad Mrs. Shirogane was visiting her father in the hospital, he really didn’t want to think what would’ve happened if she was. Stopping for a moment, he put Tsuna down. His bleeding hand-when had he cut himself?—left a trail of blood on the boy’s shirt, but they didn’t have time to worry about it.

“Tsuna, I need you go to the well and get Keith.”

“And you?”

“I’ll distract it until Keith gets here. Please, Tsuna! Go get Keith!”

With that, Lance started to run in another direction, attracting the monster’s attention to him. All he could do was to hope for Keith to come quickly.

If anyone asked, Keith was not anxiously expecting Lance’s return while staring intently at the bottom of the well. He was not.

“How about of going after her instead of staring at the end of the well?”

“Shut up, stupid fox, isn’t it time for you to go to bed?”

“I’m just saying, you should go after her, you know, actually be productive?”

“Pidge, you have five seconds before I kick you back to where you came from.”

The damn fox just smirked, amused by the dog’s temper. Keith opened his mouth to growl out some insult when his nose picked up a familiar smell and his head snapped to look back at the bottom of the well. Pidge looked at him puzzled.

“I can smell… Lance’s blood.” Pidge widened her eyes, staring at what to her was just a normal well. Keith didn’t waste time, preparing to jump inside, “Pidge, go back to Granny Romelle, I’ll go find Lance,” Without giving her time to answer, he jumped.

“… That idiot is so in love with Lance.”

If anyone asked, Keith would admit being a bit surprised at finding the boy that Lance lived with crying while trying to open a hole in the well’s floor. Not sure how to deal with kids, Keith smiled cockily, hoping his show of self-confidence would somehow calm the boy down.

“What’s the matter? You seem troubled.”

In a few minutes, he was jumping from rooftop to rooftop, the boy on his back. He could smell Lance’s blood clear as day, even with the overall weird smell that world had. The hanyo disliked the smell a lot, Lance’s smell wasn’t made to be tarnished with blood, his own or otherwise. Keith could feel a growl trying to rip through his throat, whatever made that boy bleed would bleed twice as much.

He almost sighed in relief when he saw the boy alive and relatively well.

“Sankon Tessō!”

With his claws he opened the way by slaying the strange glob monster in half. Getting near Lance, he let Tsuna get down, who immediately hugged the blue-eyed boy.

If anyone asked, Keith was not glad the boy was ok.

“Don’t worry, Tsuna,” Lance said, trying to make the boy stop crying, “Keith will help us now.”

“Dunno about that.”

“What do you mean, mullet?” Lance soft gaze rapidly turned into a glare.

“I may help if you apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot!” Keith pointed accusingly at him. “You almost destroyed my back with your sit command and now you’re asking for help as if nothing happened?!”

“Oh, that! Well, I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t being sincere!”

“Just help us already, mullet dog! That thing has a fragment and I can’t fight right now, so stop whining like a kicked puppy and fight!”

“Who are you calling a kicked puppy, stupid boy?!”

Their fight was cut short when the monster’s body came together again. Lance informed Keith about the mask being the center of the creature, the half-demon taking out his sword, ready to fight despite his last fight with the Cuban. It’s not like Keith was actually planning to leave the humans to fight the demon alone. The mask did had a fragment of Jewel.

“I am the Meat Mask… centuries ago, I was carved from the tree trunk that received a fragment of the Jewel… I have been devouring people since then… I want a body… a body that won’t deteriorate quickly…”

Lance shuddered, muttering about creepy masks and stupid glass balls. Keith let a growl finally get out at seeing the boy’s fear.

“I don’t know how many people you’ve devoured until now, but you’re way too fat!”

To think all it took was a swing of the Tessaiga to end it all. The mask was gone in a flash of light, the fragment falling in front of them. Lance was quick to grab it and put in the flask with the rest of the fragments.

“Hey.” Lance turned to look at him, bluest blue eyes soft and thankful, “You okay?”

“Thank you, Keith.”

“Tch, whatever.”

If anyone asked, that was not a blush on Keith’s cheeks.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Hm?”

“Take us home? I have exams to take and Tsuna has to go to school too.”

“What am I?! Your horse?!”

“Oh, c’mon, mullet dog! Just take us home before I get late!”

“No!”

“Keith!”

Tsuna could only watch as Keith begrudgingly let Lance hop on his back, the two still bickering.

“Tsuna, come on!”

“I’m coming!”

[thenarcolepticone]

Phantasm

by TheNarcolepticOne

Day 2 + Day 5: Spooky Colors ( @aphfallfandomweek )

AO3

Summary: Lovino was the relative in the family that no one particularly liked to visit. And wasn’t because he was crude: this was a misconception developed from the in-laws of the family who wanted to steal some of the family’s rich heritage. Rather, Lovino was just a different kind of Vargas. Or at least, Feliciano liked to think that his brother was.

Characters: APH Italy, APH South Italy, APH Spain.

Warnings: None. But it's spooky I guess? If you don't like spooks.

A/N: I... put two concepts into one story again -- I'm SORRY it's just very addicting to try and put them all together because it forces me to try and creatively shove them together. I hope it's not too clunky though... I've not actually posted any stories online with Feliciano or Lovino. Not yet anyway. It's not meant to be anything hard to look into, actually, so don't look too hard into this story.

##

Lovino was the relative in the family that no one particularly liked to visit. And wasn’t because he was crude: this was a misconception developed from the in-laws of the family who wanted to steal some of the family’s rich heritage. Rather, Lovino was just a different kind of Vargas. Or at least, Feliciano liked to think that his brother was.

Lovino liked to spend a lot of his days alone too and occupied the spare room of Feliciano’s paint studio when he came back from a long day from working at the pastry shop. Feliciano had given the space to him out of sympathy, as no one else in his family seemed to put an effort into knowing his brother beyond just his strange behaviors. Except for him and his Grandfather of course, but Romulus had passed away some time ago, leaving only Feliciano to be the sole caretaker of his brother.

Calloused hands and flour dusted fingers from folding dough and wheat did nothing to dissuade Lovino from coming over in the evenings to continue his work in his project room. Lovino always mentioned finishing the same painting that he started two months ago and had never let Feliciano see it since he bought his brother the easel.

Now, Lovino was one of the best water color artists that Feliciano had ever know. It deviated a lot with his own style, but not in a bad way. Feliciano often liked the crispness of oil-based paints in its raw form upon a canvas while Lovino once told him that he enjoyed the medium of water because he felt the transparency of the paint reflect a sort of ‘ambiguity’. He liked an image of a color that wasn’t quite solid and wasn’t too minimalist either, which made Feliciano very empathetic to his art pieces most of the time.

Lovino was a schizophrenic, part-time freelance artist.

It wasn’t a very pretty title, but it was because of this stigma that Lovino often told people of his condition first, like a warning, before accepting any commissions from any eager client. Lovino didn’t enjoy the idea of people giving him sympathy and especially disliked being compared to van Gogh in any way, shape or form.

Rather, he preferred patrons that were honest with him. And it was a trait that Feliciano envied; having interactions between others without that sense of superficiality to it.

Lovino was more grounded to the realities of people more than Feliciano ever was. And that, alone, was the reason why Feliciano loved his brother dearly. And the same reason why he had even given him the room in the first place.

Though, just because Lovino got commissions didn’t mean that he received a lot of them. The man would often burst into Feliciano’s small business building without a word and retreat his secret sanctuary in silence. But Feliciano never minded it; his brother’s business was his own.

That was, until one day Feliciano heard his brother talking alone inside of his room one night after washing all of his brushes. Feliciano had planned to leave early, as he had a scheduled 8:30 AM appointment with his next model soon. But the sounds of his brother speaking was what drawn him to stop and listen.

“Hang on,” Lovino was heard groaning on the other side of the door. “I’ll finish this part soon. Stop giving me that look, won’t you? It’s intimidating, and you’ll make me rush it.”

Feliciano quietly set his used brushes from earlier that day into a bucket nearby. And, watching his feet to ensure he did not step on anything, Feliciano leaned against the thin white door to eavesdrop.

“Yes, Toni. I know you like red. But I’ve already painted enough leaves around you. Any more of them and I’m sure you’ll look like you’re in front of a volcano!”

Feliciano bit his lip. A quick suspicion made Feliciano assume that Lovino snuck a male model into the room. But looking at the base of the door, he saw some movement of shadows.

But he could not distinguish if this was his brother’s movements or not.

“There. See?” Lovino murmured. “It was the green that was missing. Not the red. Red wouldn’t make much sense to add on to you. It’s like wearing a red shirt, red pants, red shoes and red socks: it doesn’t match.”

Feliciano moved away from the door now, perhaps realizing that Lovino wasn’t quite... himself. Lovino often had episodes of these, but ever since he had been on medication, he hadn’t fallen into the habit of babbling to himself until now. 

But he didn’t want to be too straightforward with Lovino either. Pointing out his strange behavior would only strain their relationship as his only caring family relative and the last thing Feliciano wanted to do was to make his brother annoyed with him because wasn’t caring enough to shut up appropriately.

Choosing instead to promptly ignore the conversation in the other room, Feliciano began pack his things, set his coat on and retreat home to sleep. He and Lovino did not live in the same places, so he was never really sure about what time his brother went home.

But as Feliciano attempted to sleep, he couldn’t help but start to wonder about Lovino again. The way he talked behind that door and the emotion in Lovino’s voice that really almost sounded like he was speaking to his painting... the curiosity had burrowed itself into Feliciano’s brain enough to the point of making him unable to sleep. And months of secrecy on Lovino’s end was enough to draw Feliciano back into his car and drive right back to the studio.

It was just quarter past two in the morning when Feliciano arrived, fall air breezing through his hair. His keys clinked as he opened the door, and he turned the lights on, immediately heading for the forbidden room.

He swung the door open gently, turning on the lights.

The room was an absolute chaotic mess, as if someone had ransacked the place. It scared Feliciano a minute to think that the perpetrator would be somewhere nearby, but Feliciano did a quick sweep around the perimeter of the room.

No one.

The only object that was the most preserved in the mess was an easel and canvas in the center of the room, draped by a tattered blanket.

Feliciano frowned, feeling his chest compress. He felt like was violating his brother’s trust by peeking into his personal work. It wasn’t as if he was planning to do anything bad, right? Just looking.

Feliciano took a breath, going up to the painting and removing the cloth.

It was the portrait of a man that Feliciano had never seen before. The paint that was included in the picture was layered upon each other, blending a lot more smoothly into indescribable mixes of color; the paint’s opacity made it a hard to tell the difference if the color was in between red, yellow or green. The brush strokes that framed the man’s clothing were cleverly blended with the darker colors to contour the light more to the man’s chest, rather than the shoulders and overcoat. It curved at the exact angles that highlighted the physique under the painting’s clothing, and it caused Feliciano to realize that he had been holding his breath when he finished examining it.

Lovino really did pull reality from his imagination. The only thing that made the painting appear unrealistic was the white edges of the unfinished background and unpainted pencil-etched leaves. The picture was meant to fully depict a Spaniard of the 1600’s in the middle of the fall leaves, posing right before his voyage over the Atlantic. The portrait man gazed back at Feliciano, looking soft in his features but held a sense of power behind his gaze. The eyes were a piercing green, and it made Feliciano feel like he was being watched. They also looked like they were following him when he moved around even more, causing Feliciano to be completely unsettled by the eye movement. It was enough to make Feliciano want to leave.

It’s then that Feliciano grabbed the cloth, pulling it over the painting’s gaze as he retreated out back to the parking lot, heart beating from almost practically sprinting out of the building. He locked the door twice for good measure and checked it before starting his car.

##

The next morning hadn’t been too unusual after that. Feliciano had fought the evening’s events out of his brain when his patron showed up; a man who looked entirely ready for his own portrait by dressing in outrageous clothing. Feliciano could deal with outrageous.

He had spent the day avoiding the room when he was doing his own work and waited patiently for his brother to return after work.

Eventually, Lovino did come through the door. But not before Feliciano stopped him. His model had long gone at that point, giving Feliciano more time to speak to him.

“Fratello,” he called to his brother, causing Lovino to turn his head to him with tired attentiveness. “What are you painting in that room? I’ve always been meaning to ask.”

Lovino gave Feliciano an incredulous expression. But not before just sighing. “I’m actually almost done with it anyway. I suppose you could look at it.”

Feliciano practically jumped at this opportunity to be with his brother, dropping his palette onto a nearby table as he grabbed a towel to wipe his hands off on the way to follow Lovino back into the room.

But by the time his brother had opened the door, he felt himself freeze.

The room was practically spotless. Or at least, there wasn’t a place out of order like it had been last night. It looked as if someone had cleaned it, though Feliciano was 400% sure he had locked the door that evening and had not touched anything else in the room. Especially after seeing the gaze of that frightening man under the blanket on the canvas. He couldn’t stay after that!

When Lovino uncovered the painting, Feliciano had to bite his tongue.

The man that had stared at him last night was turned away from the viewer’s perspective, head turning to look back at the autumn scenery behind him. It caused Feliciano to rub his eyes, trying to understand how his brain was playing tricks on him.

He can’t have just imagined last night all on his own. Could he?

“Like it?” Lovino said, having not noticed Feliciano at all since he had also been staring at his own work and criticizing it himself. “It’s... not quite there yet. I’m missing a lot of the edges and leaves. But I think one more week would finally get this done.”

“W-Who is that?” Feliciano fought his voice to remain calm as possible, which clearly wasn’t working too well. “In the picture?”

“Someone I keep running into in my dreams,” Lovino sighed. “You know. Those dreams.”

Feliciano turned his gaze back to Lovino, who now appeared much quieter and more reserved after admitting that clause. Feliciano frowned at that. Lovino was trying to hide his hallucinations again. And fighting the urge to reveal the reason behind his own state of panic, Feliciano noticed that he began to say something else as well.

“I’m jealous, Lovino,” Feliciano replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever been able to really... do the same as you when it comes to painting in water color. It’s strange because it looks so real. Like it can move on its own.”

Lovino laughed at that. “You’re the only one who can see the reality of everything, Feli. I’ll admit it; sometimes I see the painting move all the time. And I think I can say that this one of my best works.” Lovino felt his smile soften when he stared at his masterpiece. “Antonio. That’s what I call it. It’s a name in Spanish that means something of value and praise.”

“I... didn’t take you for the type to be researching on name meanings, Lovi.”

“Shut up. Just because the names of your pieces are long doesn’t mean that mine have to be.”

Feliciano relaxed at that. “It’s beautiful, fratello.”

“It’s not finished yet,” Lovino murmured. “I’ll get it done soon. But I’d like to be alone, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Feliciano went to the door, letting him the space. And with a smile, he closed the door again.

But the second the door clicked shut, Feliciano’s expression that he had been keeping up had dropped. And fear poured into his heart as he dared to open the door once more.

“Lovino?”

The room was empty, with a gust of wind blowing into the room with the faintest smell of wet grass and undergrowth.

Feliciano stared at the picture that was revealed to him.

There, amid all of the colors of the fall within the canvas, was Lovino. And next to him was the man he had seen in the piercing green eyes, smiling right at Feliciano as he had an arm around his shoulders.

Feliciano only stared for a few moments before feeling himself drawn into the room. And with a final examination, grabbed the cloth again to cover the painting up as he picked it up into his arms to take home.

[unoutan]

Bakudeku Aged-up and a bit nsfw! A steamy start to a fun week filled with Katsudeku feels! Enjoy! -Unoutan

Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), Adorable Midoriya Izuku, Tsundere Bakugou Katsuki, complicated dorks being complicated dorks, Frottage, things get steamy, toga himiko is awesome but still creepy, poor Twice he did his best, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Bakugou Katsuki is a Dork, Cute Midoriya Izuku, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, everyone is bad at feelings

Summary: After graduating UA High, Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki accept their first job as side-kicks at their first hero agency…the same agency. Awkward. Then two villains appear to unknowingly…start the ball rolling between them.

Also available to read here, but don’t forget to show so ao3 love -wink-:

At first, it seemed that the day Midoriya Izuku got his first official side-kick acceptance letter, would be the best day ever. His once quiet apartment erupted into sound as he cried so hard on the phone with his mother. It was one of the happiest moment of his life for this is his start into official pro-hero work, just as he always dreamed, how All Might trained him for along with Aizawa-sensei and everyone whose help got him this far.

Then right after he called Toshinori to express his happiness and the three of them all went out to eat in celebration, he got a call from his pro-hero employer...

He tried to keep his excitement to a minimum, but by the amused voice on the other line, Izuku wasn’t good enough. However, he couldn’t help it. Only a little more than half a year after graduating from UA High, with everyone he cares about alongside him, Midoriya Izuku has been accepted as one of the top pro-hero’s official sidekick!

In reality, that was when all the trouble started because, he wasn’t the only side-kick accepted.

“KACCHAN!!!/DEKUUU!!!”

The slam of Izuku’s face meeting the ground due to tripping over his own foot, was embarrassing on his first day at the hero agency, but Kacchan scattering a bunch of papers on the ground was similar enough. Both of them were red in the face for totally different reasons, but immediately scrambled when their new boss addressed them.

It’s been barely four months into their new job they both surprisingly applied to and got accepted, but villains never wait. They’ve gone on many patrols, took down a bunch of villains, but purposefully avoided each other. Their interactions were limited to ‘do you want coffee, Kacchan’ to ‘Deku, stop muttering at the computer desk and type quietly or so help me.’ However, villains wait for no one and strike when they want. And currently, official side-kick Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku are in big trouble.

Circumstances threw them together, the both of them separated together at the drop zone during an alert of a few of the most wanted villains appearing on camera. The facial recognition alerted all nearby agencies and their agency was a part of it.

Running into Katsuki’s shoulder as he turned the corner, Izuku didn’t fight the hand that yanked him back just in time before needles shot out from the metal walls. The building they ducked into, following after one of the villains, was rigged with traps.

Letting the back of Izuku’s collar go, Katsuki squinted through the needles that shot out from the walls. Twice’s silhouette in the distance enter through a simple wooden door. Holding his hand out, Katsuki let out a controlled explosion and covered the needle holes, plugging it and allowing them to both run after the villain.

Twice’s laughter cut off as soon as the wooden door behind them closed together with the lights. A loud slam behind them, made Katsuki and Izuku turn around, coughing at the dust that flew from above the small crack in the wooden door. The lights flickered on, a different warmer light and from a different source than the previous fluorescent lights.

The villain they were following isn’t in the room and there isn’t any other exit as they frantically, yet efficiently searched the bare room with metal plated walls. And so, they resorted to force in hopes to jolt something into opening, to reveal how Twice was able to disappear like that.

Worry in his voice, Izuku clapped his hands to get rid of the dirt and dust. “W-We’re…trapped in here, Kacchan.”

Their ears are ringing a bit from the loudness of Katsuki’s explosions together with his One for All powered kicks and punches. Katsuki screamed back, “You don’t think I already know that, dork?!”

Putting down his foot, the glow of One for All at 15% disappeared from Izuku’s body. The wooden door is destroyed, pieces of it cracking to the ground from the force of Izuku’s kicks, but it wasn’t enough. Izuku glared at the indents he made in the metal wall that is now behind the broken wooden door too.

The wall is a lot thicker than he thought, too thick...and the villains planned this, knowing their power levels; knowing they’ll be uncertain in this unknown area. It doesn’t help that Izuku is fearful of a possible cave-in if he continues. Strategically, it was useless to try breaking through with force and Katsuki reached the same conclusion, ceasing his explosions.

They paused and the sounds of their faint panting are the only things that could be heard in the room.

Backing away from the walls, Izuku bumped into Katsuki by accident and muttered an apology, but Katsuki’s growling was focused elsewhere. Katsuki looked at Izuku before looking to the floor. There are fresh blood drops on the ground from the villain’s injured arm, “Twice passed here, in this direction, we both saw.”

“But it could have been a clone! And the clone could have timed itself to melt down the drain a-and-” Before Izuku could continue rambling, Katsuki spun around, bumping his chest with the shorter, mumbling man standing near him. “S-sorry, Kacchan.”

“Just wanted you to stop your freaky muttering that’s so annoying. I really thought you’d grow out of that crap, but nooo.” Bakugou grumbled this out, standing tall, hovering a head taller than Izuku, but Izuku copied his posture, unfazed by the intimidation.

“And I just want you to stop being so frustrating.” Izuku’s bright green eyes shone in the dim yellow light of the room they’re in as he retorted, “You know I can’t help t-talking to myself ever since I was in grade school! It helps me focus!”

“I know, I know! Shut the fuck up! And let me…me-” Katsuki slapped a hand over his eyes when he saw Izuku flinch and make that face at him.Awkward, jumpy and too nervous of a facial expression that Katsuki can read clearly on Izuku’s face. He knows him too well. Way too well and vise versa. However, Izuku isn’t alone in feeling awkward for he’s feeling awkward about this whole actually working together, having the same, coveted side-kick starter job and-

“Stop being so weird with everything!” When Katsuki bit his lip and dragged his hand slowly down his face, drooping his eyes in a way that would have been comical if it wasn’t for their current situation, Izuku’s voice softened, “It’s just me, Kacchan…you’ve known me forever and w-we graduated together and now w-we j-just so happen to b-b-be w-working together too.”

The words ‘just so happen to be working together’ made Bakugou Katsuki’s right eye twitch multiple times and his teeth clench. He paused, not answering Izuku for a moment, but then leaned forward with a growl so close that Izuku felt a shiver down his spine, “I’m not the only one acting weird, you damn nerd.”

Izuku sighed at this and that same expression returned again, but with shaky eyes, looking away to the ground. And Midoriya Izuku’s expression has been haunting him lately, even after they graduated UA High together, but now was not the time to think of such things. They have a life and death situation issue!

“Shit.” Shaking his head to focus back on the situation, Katsuki leaned back and didn’t comment on Izuku’s visible slump of shoulders that were once raised high in clear anxiety. “There has to be a way out…dammit.”

“And…since the door we went through is sealed shut,” Holding a hand to his chin, Izuku muttered as he walked closer to one wall, hoping to see a sign of a hidden entrance merged with the metal slotted forms that make their prison. “It’s our only chance at getting out, just like the villain managed to do so.”

“We got locked in a goddamn murder dungeon.” The walls are dingy with questionable stains scattered everywhere and the floor is tiled like a bathroom with two small drains near the center of the floor at their feet. There is also a metal operating table, slightly cleaner looking than the environment around it, but likely was dirty with…blood before. So, yes, Izuku agrees that they are definitely trapped inside a murder dungeon.

“Yes…w-we got trapped in a murder dungeon, but what’s scary is it was clearly built for us. It was built to contain all kinds of quirks.” Squeezing his shaking fists that felt a bit bruised from how he punched the walls, before resorting to kicks, Izuku sighed a more frustrated sigh since his legs are also shaking, fearful of their currently dangerous situation. “And I can’t get a signal…K-Kacchan? Can you get a-”

“No, I can’t get a signal!” Only a faint sound of static is buzzing in both of their right communication earpieces.

Chasing after code name villain Twice, inside this building, was a mistake and the warning bells of running down, moving closer and closer past basement level should have been enough of a sign. The walls that automatically slammed around them caught them off guard.

Grabbing Izuku’s shoulder by surprise, Katsuki grunted when Izuku spun around and smacked his hand away to shove the tall man away from him. “Okay, grabbing me all rough like that was exactly how we got into this mess in the first place! You shoved me and made the villains notice us!”

“Don’t pin this crap on me, Deku! Your smart-mouth pissed me off and was the real distraction here! YOU FUCKING STARTED IT!”

“IF YOU WOULD STOP GETTING ANGRY AT ME OVER EVERY LITTLE-”

“IF YOU’D STOP BEING AN IDIOT, THEN MAYBE WE WON’T BE TRAPPED IN THIS PLACE!”

“THIS IS NOT ONLY MY FAULT, YOU JERK! WHY ARE YOU STILL SO DIFFICULT, EVEN AFTER WE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE SIDE-KICKS TOGETHER?! CO-WORK-”

“Heyyyy there, Izu-chan! It’s been a whileeee cutie~ and you look so nice all scuffed up and bloody running down the halls after my friend.”The cheerful voice of the familiar villain Toga Himiko echoed around the room. A little crackle sound in her voice and overly loud volume indicated a hidden speaker. “Even your little friend too…ummm, Katsuki, right? The one Tomura invited to our happy group.”

Sweat dripping down the side of his face, Izuku nervously took a step back to once again press against Katsuki’s back. Izuku yelled out in the room, “T-TOGA HIMIKO-SAN!”

“ I wish I could have been the mouse to bait you in here, Izuku-chan. I wanna eat you up! I can imagine the blood at the side of your mouth as you ran into the building with your dear Kacchan! Hehehe, I remembered Kacchan this time~”

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME KACCHAN, YOU PSYCHO.” If they were not trapped, Katsuki would explodeD this crazy serial killer’s face off. “ONLY DEKU CAN FUCKING CALL ME KACCHAN!”

“Shut up Katsuki-chan, you’re ruining our moment. You’re fine, but Izuku-chan is wayyy more my type with his cute face. Hehehe, Tomura is going to be happy Twice and I caught you two-hey, sweetheart, I wanna be the one chattin’ with them, so Twice, go rest up and-Oh! Excuse me for a moment, Izuku-chan. Sweetheart, stop. Give me the bandages. You’re turning yourself into a mummy~” Toga’s voice trailed off as she moved away from the microphone.

Taking advantage of the pause, Izuku turned to Katsuki and stood on his toes, which Katsuki leaned down. Izuku’s hand cupped Katsuki's ear and whispered, “We have to work together to get out of this, okay? I promise we can fight later. We have to do what we can to get out of here and alert backup.”

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki nodded and watched Izuku fall back on his heals to his normal height only to glare at the ground. He can hear, Deku begin muttering again. It’s lower than normal, an intelligent choice since there are microphone feeds hidden within the room to allow Toga to hear them.

Before Katsuki could grab Izuku’s shoulders, the memory of Izuku getting upset at him moments ago made him abort the motion.

“Deku. Listen-” He got Izuku’s attention, the other man stopping his mutterings to look to him. Katsuki frowned at the 'open book' look of Izuku, those intense big eyes sparkling in a way that made him want to hold him. He’s not desperate. He’s not desperate for Midoriya Izuku to just stop flinching at him all the time, but Katsuki can’t blame the dork for acting like that with him either. He has to right to blame him for that. Glaring at Izuku, Katsuki grumbled, “I agree to…working together and shit, so don’t…freak if I do something you don’t expect and I won’t freak too.”

Izuku noticed Katsuki held his breath, watching sweat and blood drip down his neck, down his chest to disappear down the v-shirt of his hero costume. Tearing his eyesight back up to Katsuki’s serious red eyes, Izuku nervously whispered, “A-Ah ha, y-yeah okay. I won’t. Kacchan, I’m sorry that I’m still not used to fighting along side you and I don’t mean to be so, well, so stiff around you-”

“No, shut up, stop apologizing. Don’t apologize to me, you don’t ever need to from all the shit I-” Katsuki trailed off, face burning red from Izuku’s slack jaw. “Stop with that face.”

“Sor-…ah ha. Yeah. Of, course Kacchan.”

Whenever he could, Aizawa-sensei always paired them up together, and even after all the things they’ve been through at each other's side-Midoriya Izuku still gets nervous around Katsuki and in his own way. And in his own overly rough way, so does Bakugou Katsuki.

Now…they are actual co-workers.

“Andddd I’m back cutie! Ughhh, but everyone isn’t here yet to play with you, so for the time being it’s just me~” When she finished talking a tiny slot in the ceiling opened at the right corner of the room and a little black camera appeared. However, before it could face their direction, Izuku kicked off the wall three times to roundhouse kick the camera into pieces. “OH COME ON, IZUKU-CHAN! Stop being shy~”

At the other three corners of the room, tiny cameras appeared and were immediately destroyed by the furious heroes. Smoke dissipated from Katsuki’s twitching palms, a wicked smirk on his face as Izuku landed at his side, feet slightly cracking the ground. The lightning around his body of One for All calmed and Izuku yelled out, “I’M NOT BEING SHY!”

“You two are no fun. No fun at all~ Thanks Twice...they’re so mean, aren’t they? I needed this hug, since Izuku-chan won’t ever hug me.”

Katsuki chuckled once when Izuku’s face turned exasperated, green eyes lowering slightly with a pout to his lips, but then he yelled out,“OH ENOUGH ALREADY! DEKU’S NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR VILLAIN ASS.”

Toga ignored him and Katsuki huffed. Crossing his arms over his chest, Katsuki also yelled, “AND DON’T THINK YOU CAN HOLD US HERE FOR LONG!”

“IF I HAD IT MY WAY, I’D KEEP YOU BOTH IN HERE FOREVER. BLOOD SOURCES JUST FOR ME TO PLAY WITH-” The two heroes flinched when Toga growled that into the microphone, voice laced with killing intent, but then her cheery tone returned to once again flirt with Izuku, making Katsuki groan in annoyance. “But for Izuku-chan maybe more than just a blood bag~”

Katsuki kicked the only thing kickable in the room, besides the wall, and that was the metal operating table. The metal loudly clanked on the ground, bouncing and made everyone, including Toga and Twice to groan in pain along with them.

“Ughhh, if you’re going to act like babies, then I’ll leave you two to stew for a bit in your own thoughts. So mean, so mean.”

The subtly static tone disappeared with a single click. Katsuki and Izuku paused, waiting for a whole minute or two, before Izuku spoke normally to say, “T-Toga Himiko scares me, Kacchan.”

“Damn, you’re not the only one. I will never forget that fake you striding up to me all chummy and shit.” When that happened before during their last year in UA High, Katsuki immediately threw a punch to the fake Deku’s face. The 'Katsuki-chan' ruined it, but clearly was on purpose. “I almost felt like vomiting at how playful and peppy you were, licking blood from a knife and-”

“We don’t talk about that. We agreed never to talk about that time.” It didn’t end pretty when the real Izuku burst through a wall with a kick aimed right at Toga Himiko ‘Midoriya Izuku’ form’s face, which she still managed to dodge. She chugged the rest of 'apparently Izuku's blood' in a surprise vial kept in a necklace, hidden underneath her school uniform. Unfortunately, Toga maintained her 'Izuku' form and managed to distract every hero from her surprising stunt. Todoroki Shouto threw fire at Himiko and Uraraka dropped broken debris over her, but she still managed to kill time, allowing the other villains she’s associated with to escape.

Toga Himiko ‘played with them,’ spinning around and giggling in a way everyone thought ‘Midoriya Izuku’ never could, before escaping with Shigaraki Tomura; a still wanted Shigaraki Tomura with his League of Villains who is apparently arriving soon to get them. They have to think fast! A plan! Now! Right now before-

It was then Bakugou Katsuki had an epiphany, his wide eyes slowly turning to gaze at Izuku’s profile.

As if feeling eyes on him, Izuku looked at him. “Hmm? Kacchan, do you have an idea?”

“…I do.”

Pause.

Tilting his head, Izuku hesitantly asked, “A-and…what is it?”

“You’re probably not going to like it, Deku.”

“You keeping me in suspense is making me even more nervo…-ussss…u-ummm-” Izuku’s words died when Bakugou Katsuki took two big steps toward him and stood close, chest to chest. Just like Katsuki thought he would, Izuku’s words turned shy with his word stuttering in a familiar way. Face red, Izuku rubbed the back of his head and said, “Eeeer, um, K-Kacchan…w-what is your plan? C-Can you tell me?”

He’s playing coy, but Katsuki actually didn’t mind. The hands at Deku’s waist were not angrily brushed off, so it was a good enough start. The smirk on Katsuki’s face grew when Izuku placed his hands on his chest. Izuku’s a smarty-pants dork…and so the message got through quick.

“Don’t hit me.” Leaning down to mutter close against Izuku’s jaw, Katsuki heatedly whispered against skin to say, “Hit me after we get out of this shit, Deku.”

The hands at Katsuki’s chest slid up to wrap arms around his neck, and before Katsuki could drag his lips over Deku’s lips, Izuku moved his head away. It took him by surprise, but Katsuki reacted when Izuku hopped and wrapped his legs around his waist. Katsuki’s hands that were once at Izuku’s waist gripped the back of Izuku’s thighs, supporting the man to carry him over to lean against the wall.

Noses bumping for a moment, Izuku smirked at Katsuki when their second attempt to kiss failed by both of them angling their head in a similar direction. Katsuki growled, but stayed still when Izuku cupped the back of his head with fingers slipping between the short, spiky blond hair. That kept Katsuki still enough for Izuku to initiate it.

When Izuku pressed his lips against Katsuki’s own soft lips in a chaste kiss, everything between them, even during this moment of desperation, melted away into pure emotion.

Katsuki deepened their kiss, leaning down to lick over the bottom of Izuku’s lips. Head tilted back, Izuku gripped the back of Katsuki’s shoulders and moaned into their kiss when Katsuki slipped his tongue inside his mouth. Eyes fluttering closed, Katsuki smirked into the kiss for only a moment before continuing his kiss harder, deeper, to work out the nervous hands holding onto him and those hands belong to the man who was once his childhood friend, nuisance, rival and now-

Izuku squeezed his legs wrapped around Katsuki’s waist and moaned at the heat he felt between them. Katsuki broke their kiss to loudly groan when Izuku moved his hips just right. The hands Katsuki had under Izuku’s thighs slid higher, squeezing the round ass and using his whole body to press Izuku harder against the rough wall, grinding his hips in a way that coaxed out various gasps from Izuku. Squeezing Izuku’s backside, Katsuki teasingly sucked the bottom of Izuku’s lip before pulling away to grunt at the consuming, heat burning between them.

Grinding against each other, foreheads pressed together, panting hot breaths, Katsuki and Izuku felt their clothed cocks hardened between their legs. A long moan spilled from Izuku's mouth when Katsuki lifted him up higher for a moment, hands gripping his hips, only to slam their strained hardness back against each other. The friction between them sent white flashed of light to cut between their vision, or it could have been the flickering light of the room, but they didn't want to think about it. Their minds melted and Izuku's breath hitched when Katsuki rubbed more frantically against him, their clothed cocks twitching underneath their clothes.

So, tight. Katsuki rested his head against Izuku’s shoulder as Izuku panted against his ear. The feeling of Izuku’s fingers running through his damp hair felt amazing, but the friction between them felt the most amazing. Faster. Katsuki heavy breath hit skin as he held Izuku close in a trapping embrace.

Izuku then slipped his one hand under Katsuki’s arm to trail a hand up and down Katsuki’s lower back. Bouncing Izuku in his lap, one hand rubbing the crack of Izuku’s ass through the cloth of his hero costume, Katsuki roughly humped Izuku against the wall. Closing his eyes a few times to feel Izuku against him and hear his voice like this.

Despite being fully clothed, Katsuki had a betraying thought that he wouldn’t mind having their clothes off…and he wasn’t alone. Izuku eagerly licked the side of Katsuki’s mouth, whispering near his cheek, “T-This…feels too good, Kacchan.”

“K-Keep going, get me harder-s-shittt.” Katsuki stuttered when Izuku challengingly thrusted his hips in a certain way that made him gasp. “Ahh, D-Deku.”

“I-I will. J-Just- please-Ahhhh~” They’ll keep going until-…until their moans fill the room. And so, their moans echoed around the room.

Before biting Izuku's ear, Katsuki groaned out a heady, “Fuckkk, Deku~”

Face burning pink, Izuku wantonly moaned, “Ahhh, K-Kacchan, don’t stop~“

Midoriya Izuku couldn’t believe that he’s doing with his ‘Kacchan’ and Bakugou Katsuki couldn’t believe it either. Katsuki couldn’t believe that his ‘Deku’ is…allowing him to-

It feels too good. They needed this and maybe, underneath it all, they wanted this. They need to do this to get-

Izuku hissed when Katsuki’s hold on his ass turned a bit too painful and so, he gripped Katsuki’s hair in his fist. That pulled Katsuki’s head away. Izuku then moved his other hand back to hook around the other man’s shoulder to pull himself up, with one foot kicking off the ground before returning to wrap around Katsuki’s waist. Pressing Izuku’s back against the dirty wall again, Katsuki recaptured Izuku’s lips in a passionate kiss.

They closed their eyes and got lost together within this feeling, before their desired reaction finally happened: . . “O-OH MY GOD, WHAT.” The loud crash that echoed in the room, went ignored. Ignored by Himiko’s point of view. During Katsuki and Izuku’s passionate moment together, a camera discreetly appeared and Toga Himiko reacted exactly how they thought she would. It took her a while, but she eventually screeched, ”NO WAY, I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’VE BEEN WITH-WITH-CH-CHEATING ON ME W-W-WITH~ that was hot, BUT NOO, NO NO NO NOOO~”

The whining and arguing over the speakers made Izuku smirk against Katsuki’s lips. They pulled away slightly to give each other a look, eyes on the sparkling camera at the ground near the corner closest to them.

Twice’s voice frantically screamed, “W-WAIT P-PLEASE, HIMIKO-CHAN, T-TH-THEY’RE PLANNING SOMETHING! YOU KNOW THEY ARE! That wassss really hot though, borderline pornographic, BUT YOU CAN’T-”

“THAT’S SO UNFAIR. PLAYING DIRY! I’M GOING IN THERE. AND NO, LET GO! YOU CAN’T STOP ME TWICE~”

A loud bang and crash rattled the speakers, followed by various others noises like there was some sort of a scuffle.

Katsuki’s hands slid back down to return to easily support Izuku’s weight with hands under his thighs. Izuku pulled away from Katsuki’s kiss and whispered, face remaining close enough for the other man to hear, “D…do you think this will work?”

“She’s obsessed with you Deku.” Red eyes glaring at Izuku’s absolutely wrecked appearance, an appearance that Katsuki knows he likely matches, Katsuki growled out, “But she is a damn high ranking villain, we can’t be to sure that this would work.”

“Just be ready, dork.”

“I’m always ready, jerk.” They then both stopped whispering. Izuku breaking their whispering to excitedly moan out with dramatics that immediate went straight to Bakugou Katsuki's crotch, “K-Kacchan pleaseee, take it off~”

Izuku moved a little and the both of them hissed.

Then Katsuki and Izuku heard the scuffling over the speakers stop and the subtle static sound die, to be replaced by a mechanical sound nearny the drains. A few unsteady creaks followed after.

The drain area is the weak point!

Before the hidden basement door could fully creak open, Katsuki and Izuku separated from each other to attack Twice and Toga with powerful punches aimed at the floor. The entire floor of the room caved and the screams of Twice and Toga made Katsuki grin.

As soon as they broke through the floor, Izuku was able to hear their fellow side-kicks scream into their communication earpieces. “ARE YOU BOTH ALRIGHT? TALK TO ME. YOUR LOCATIONS APPEARED AGAIN AND WE’RE ON OUR WAY.”

Bakugou touched his right ear, wincing when another voice yelled, “ETA SIX MINUTES!”

Pulling an unconscious Toga from the rubble, Izuku handcuffed her in the necessary technology, with the addition of the shock bracelets and ankle locks just incase. Izuku then stood up and answered back, “Negative, meet at the original drop zone, edge of the forest and bring an armored vehicle.”

Twice groaned a little groan, so Katsuki punched his face again, completely knocking him out before putting the handcuffs, shock bracelet and ankle locks. Sitting on a smooth looking rock broken from the floor, Katsuki waved his one hand out and said, “We captured two villains.

Their boss then spoke to them, making Katsuki and Izuku get at attention even if their boss wasn't anywhere near them. “Nice work. Get your butts over to the drop zone with the two villains you’ve captured asap. We’ll talk more later.” . . Watching the unconscious villains get locked inside the armored transportation, Izuku’s calm expression turned alarmed once he heard a familiar grunt at his back. Spinning around all stiff as a statue, Izuku stared wide-eyed at Bakugou Katsuki…readying his entire body to get yelled at, but was shocked to see that the familiar fury from his most troublesome childhood friend didn’t appear.

Katsuki is looking away from him, a slight frown at his lips, eyelids lowered half-way, appearing as if he was about to make a run for it by how his crossed arms are trembling.

Izuku hesitantly inquired, “K…Kacchan? Are you-”

Before Izuku could finished asking if Katsuki if he was okay, Katsuki interrupted him by yelling, “I’M SORRY.”

Mouth open wide, Katsuki’s narrowed eyes looked at him for a second before looking away to groan, “Shit, stop with that face again.”

“Y-you just-“

“I didn’t hate it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“A-actually, Kacchan I wasn’t wondering about that.” Izuku held up his hands when Katsuki’s snapped his head back in his direction, red eyes burning and mouth quirked up in an aborted snarl. “A-AHHH W-WAIT. I MEAN, I…I can’t believe that we, did that in there. I know we…had to…but um, it was a good plan.”

Huffing, Katsuki uncrossed his arms and placed his hands on his hips as he glared at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not an idiot, you nerd. It was a fucking gamble, but it’s the only plan I had at the time to-”

Izuku giggled, finishing Katsuki’s sentence, “To flush them out of hiding.”

Katsuki pouted, looking away to glare at a random group of police officers that kept looking in their direction. “Yeah. Whatever. We needed to drag out a mistake from them-”

“And it worked.”

A few of their co-workers walked over and patted them on the shoulders, with one teasing co-worker attempting to drape a security blanket over Katsuki’s shoulders. Grateful at the warmth since it’s already starting to become fall, Izuku accepted his blanket, shooing the others away with, “Better run before Kacchan hurts one of you!”

The chuckles and laughter that followed made Katsuki growl at the people he surprisingly chose to work with, his fists shaking, but he froze when Izuku swiftly moved to pull him into a blanketed hug. The fists that were threatening others quickly disappeared to hold Izuku’s waist, moving under the blanket’s inviting warmth, Izuku’s inviting warmth trapped within. It was an instinctual reaction, and Katsuki sucked in his breath, about to shove him away, but Izuku squeezed him tighter.

“You’re not-“ Izuku grunted when Katsuki grabbed the back of his hero uniform and tried to pry him off. As a response, Izuku merely tightened his hold around Katsuki’s waist, refusing to let go and kicked the man’s shin as a distraction to return back to their embrace. “Going to get me off, Kacchan.”

“Yeah sure, Deku. Fine. Continue being a little shit.” Katsuki muttered and looked up to see one of their co-workers with the lizard tail giggle at them. Worming one hand out of the blanket, Katsuki made a throat slicing motion to the lizard woman, but was ignored. With a heavy sigh, Katsuki then rested his chin on top of Izuku’s head, spitting some of the fluffy green hair that went in his mouth to say a snarky response, “I seemed to be getting you off just fine a few moments ago.”

Izuku didn’t flinch or push away from him like Katsuki thought his would. Leaning against his chest, Izuku whispered loud enough for only him to hear, “And…I didn’t…hate that.”

It was Katsuki’s turn to react like Izuku, eyes wide, shocked and nervous as Izuku pulled away a little to say, “I…wouldn’t hate it if Kacchan wanted to-”

Katsuki gulped, something in his stomach tickling within along with heat building up around his neck. His hands twitched from where they are around Izuku’s waist. “What…Deku?”

Izuku is staring at him with a look that isn’t meant to be seen out in public, meant only for the bedroom by how that crooked smirk turned into a teasing grin, but hell…Katsuki and Izuku practically dry-fucked, let lose enough to actually frottage, eat each other's faces, in front of two unsuspecting villains in order to make the villains fumble.

As unsuspecting as that expression on Izuku appeared, it disappeared to be replaced with the sweetest grin. Cheeks pink, Izuku bit his lip for a moment and then stopped to say, “T-to…go o-out together sometime. M-Maybe? T-together? W-we could, but no pressure at all Kacchan, I-I’d understand if you would-“

“Fine, you little shit.”

Katsuki grit his teeth when Izuku screamed at him, eyes wide and pink face sweaty, “R-REALLY?!”

“I JUST SAID YES.”

Cue another random co-worker sidekick to squeal out in excitement, “KYAA~ IZUKU ASKED YOU TO MARRY HIM, DIDN’T HE?!”

Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku, the newest side-kick members, screamed loud denials, but their red faces only made the teasing worse. Izuku didn’t flinch or fight when Katsuki grabbed the back of his thighs and lifted him up. Katsuki let Izuku wrap his arms and legs around him as he angled his head to send a pissed off expression at his giggling co-workers.

Only Izuku’s one hand pressing the side of his face to his chest, made Katsuki not start yelling again. Murmuring into his hair, Izuku said, “Let’s go wash up and rest, Kacchan.”

Walking away with Izuku in his arms, Katsuki teased, “Wash up…with me?”

“Tempting, but not before-”

Peering over Izuku shoulder, Katsuki huffed, a tiny smirk at his lips. “Yeah, yeah I know, you nerd.”

Fingers sliding at the back of Katsuki’s neck, Izuku then rested his head against Katsuki’s shoulder as he muttered out a teasing, “...you jerk.”

Thanks for reading! <3

[i-dont-remember-comfort-blog]

Addict with a Gun

W A R N I N G This oneshot is filled with angst and definitely not for the weak minded

This oneshot contains: self hatred, self harm, suicidal thoughts, harsh insults, attempted suicide, anorexia, anxiety/panic attacks, a bit of Klance, and Coran being the great space uncle that he is

“Come on Lance! Just get it together already! Can’t you do anything right?! We’re in a war we can’t afford to lose!”,Shiro, the head of Voltron yelled at Lance. Lance went to apologize, but before the words could even leave his mouth he was already being yelled at again. “We can’t afford to be goofing off all the time Lance! You need to just grow up already!” You’re probably wondering how this whole situation happened.

The paladins were training and Lance could tell that everyone was having a pretty rough day, so he decided to crack a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, maybe cheering someone up a little. Lance didn’t get the reaction he wanted.

“Keith does what he’s supposed to! Hunk does what he’s supposed to! Pidge does what she’s supposed to and she’s the youngest of all of us! Yet you constantly act like a child!” “I-I’m so-” “Are you a paladin of Voltron?!” “I-” “Start acting like it!”

And with that, Shiro stormed out of the training deck, leaving Lance standing there, head hung low and desperately fighting back tears. The worst part of it all? Nobody offered Lance any sort of comfort. The other three paladins just walked out of the training deck, none of them even offering Lance a look of sympathy.

Once alone, Lance collapsed to his knees and allowed his tears to fall, feeling horrible.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make anyone angry, I wasn’t trying to be childish, I just wanted to cheer you guys up.’ 'I’m a failure, I should just be replaced.’ 'Why am I even here? I’m unworthy of being a paladin.’ 'I’m a disgrace to all things living.’ 'I don’t deserve to live.’ Thoughts like these wouldn’t leave his mind. He was finding it hard to breath, his heartbeat quickened, he almost couldn’t move. He managed to pull his knees to his chest and bury his face in his knees, desperately trying to disappear from existence.

'I’m such a screwup.’ 'Why can’t I do anything right?’ 'I try, I really do, I’m just not good enough.’ 'Have I ever been good enough?’ 'Will I ever be good enough?’ 'What if someone gets hurt because of me?’ 'Shiro’s right, we can’t afford to mess around.’ 'I can’t afford to screw up.’

“Lance! Are you okay?!”,Coran asked, concerned for his favorite paladin. Lance shook his head yes, even if he knew it was more than obvious that he wasn’t. Coran dropped to his knees and pulled Lance into a tight hug. “Lance my boy, it’s okay, just take deep breaths, in and out, in and out..” Lance tried taking deep breaths, copying how Coran was taking deep breaths. His breathing wasn’t completely steady, but Lance was breathing better than before.

“Can you tell me what happened?”,Coran asked in a quiet voice, not wanting to scare the young paladin. “I-I’m a s-screw up…I-I can’t d-do a-anyt-thing right…I-I t-tell too many j-jokes a-and I goof off t-too much…”,Lance said between hiccups as he tried to stop crying. “Lance, you’ve done nothing wrong son, why do you think that..?” “B-Because…i-it’s true…!” “No it’s not Lance.” “Y-Yes it is! S-Shiro said it h-himself!”

Words could not describe how furious Coran was, but for Lance’s sake, he hid it. Coran began telling Lance that he did nothing wrong, that even if the others don’t appreciate his jokes he always would, that Shiro was wrong, that he had so much value, anything he could to calm the boy down and try to restore his mental health, even if Coran knew his words probably wouldn’t help all that much.

When Lance was finally calm, Coran helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry Coran, you probably have better things to do than help me calm down from a panic attack..”,Lance said, his voice so quiet it scared the altean man. “Don’t apologize, you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong my boy.” Lance flashed a sad smile at the man. “Please don’t tell anyone about this, I don’t want this to be another reason that I’m weak to the others…” “My lips are sealed.”

“Thank you Coran…I’m gonna go take a nap, I’ll see you around.”,Lance said as he walked out of the training deck.

During dinner, Keith noticed that Lance was nowhere to be seen. “Has anybody seen Lance?”,Keith asked the others. They all shook their heads. “I bet he’s busy with his skincare routine.”,Pidge joked. “Probably off somewhere being an idiot.”,Keith added. “I hope he’s not doing anything too ignorant.”,Allura stated, rolling her eyes at the thought of Lance. Shiro sighed. “He just never listens, does he?” “He does sometimes.”,Hunk answered.

They didn’t know Lance was leaning against the wall by the dining room’s entrance. They didn’t know he had been listening since the question of where he was had been asked. They didn’t know he was fighting back tears. They didn’t know that they just hurt him right after he managed to find himself in a better mood.

Lance quietly walked in and took his seat, not looking at anyone. “Hey Lance, where were you?”,Hunk asked the blue eyed boy. “I was taking a nap.”,Lance answered, his voice still quiet. Shiro slammed his hand on the table, causing everyone to freeze and look over at him. “After that little scene you started earlier a guy would think you’d spend your spare time training so that way maybe you wouldn’t be such a disappointment, but you can’t even do that right!”

Lance stood up, staring down at the table. “You know Shiro, believe it or not I actually try. Believe it or not I work twice as hard than the rest of you because I need to work twice as hard to even be at the level I am! But my best isn’t good enough!”,Lance yelled out. All eyes were on him. He lifted his head up and looked at Shiro, anger was clearly visible on the leader’s face. “I’m not good enough for anyone! No matter how hard I try my best is just never good enough! Every night I’ve been training in secret to try to get better because I know I’m not strong enough!”

“Lance what the hell?! Don’t yell at Shiro!”,Pidge yelled. “You’re being a selfish asshole!”,Keith joined in. “Lance just stop lying! There’s no way you with your ego would ever try to get better!”,Allura added. “I’m sorry buddy, but you’re too lazy to train.” 'Not you too Hunk…’

“Arrogant piece of shit!” “Self centered!” “Screwup!” “Annoying!” “Childish!” “Weak!” “Faker!” “Liar!” 'I want to die.’ “Stop fucking around Lance!” “Are you just gonna stand there?! Say something!” “Apologize to Shiro!” “Lance…?” 'I want to die.’ “Worthless jerk!” “Tallass!” “Why are you even a paladin?!” “Lance? Buddy?” 'I want to die!’ “Placeholder!” “Idiot!” “Fucking answer us!” “Say something you piece of shit!” “G-Guys you should really stop, I don’t think Lance is okay…” 'I WANT TO DIE!’

“I WANT TO DIE!”

Silence filled the room, everyone’s eyes were on Lance. Tears fell like raindrops from his ocean blue eyes, he was shaking, his fists were clenched, he was staring at the ground.

“I hate you, I hate all of you.”,Lance said as he stormed out of the room, leaving the rest of them completely shocked. “Lance?” “Leave me alone.” Coran stepped into the room, and for the first time, they all saw Coran when he was truly angry. “What the quiznak have you all done to that boy?!”

Lance sat on his bed crying himself a river. Did they all really hate him so much that him lashing out was considered a horrible thing to do but everyone else was able to lash out on him? Was he just everyone’s verbal punching bag? Did any of them even care about him?

'This is my fault, isn’t it…?’ 'I was the one who lost my cool, I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and taken it, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?’ 'I’m just the one everyone lets their frustration out on, why did I think any of them care?’ 'I know Coran cares and Hunk was trying to get the others to stop, but is anybody supposed to even care about me?’ 'No, I’m just the seventh wheel, nobody is supposed to care.’ 'I don’t deserve to be loved.’ 'I’m just the paladin of the blue lion, they only need me to form Voltron.’ 'I’m not here for anything else.’ 'I’m not here because the others want me here, I’m just here because I have to be. They only put up with me because they have to.’ 'None of them actually like me as a person.’

Lance left his room and locked himself in the bathroom closest to his room. We walked over to the sink and pulled open one of the drawers, searching for anything he could use. He managed to find a razor and set it on the count, closing the drawer. He grabbed a towel and set that down on the counter as well. He searched the bathroom for any bandages, knowing he would need some by the time he was done. Luckily he found some and added that to his collection of items on the counter.

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing so many scars it was scary to think about how much he’ll he had to have been put through to do all this to himself. He held the razor to his wrist and…

Letting out a hiss of pain, Lance pulled the razor away then looked at the fresh cut. He knew it wasn’t very deep, it was enough to draw blood and hurt like hell, but he could deal with that. He didn’t want to kill himself yet. Lance continued to cut himself, stopping after seven cuts.

He set the razor on the counter and turned on the water. He picked up the towel and made sure it was damp before he applied pressure to his wrists. After most of the blood had been cleaned up Lance wrapped the bandages around his arm, cleaned up the bathroom and made his way back to his bedroom.

While walking down the hallway, keeping his head down, Lance accidentally bumped into someone. “S-Sorry…”,he mumbled as he tried to walk past whoever it was. Before he could get very far, his wrist was grabbed and he was pinned against the wall by none other than Keith. “I-I’m s-sorry I didn’t mean t-to bump into you…!” “Stop, just tell me what the hell’s been going on with you lately…please..?” Lance scoffed and pushed Keith off of him.

“Don’t pretend to care, I know you don’t.” “What the hell gave you that idea?”

Lance gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He spun around to face Keith. “Don’t you fucking dare play dumb mullet! You made it very clear that you didn’t care at dinner! You all made it crystal fucking clear that I’m unwanted here! I know my place alright?! I’m just here to help you guys form Voltron, other than that I’m just a nuisance to you all!” “Lance that’s not true! We all care about you!” “I know Coran does, Hunk maybe, but the rest of you? How stupid do you actually think I am? You’re probably only even trying to figure out what’s wrong with me so you can make me apologize to Shiro, I get it, I’m just here for everyone to take their anger out on, I have no right to be angry with anyone, I should just die, right?” “Lance no! Please don’t think that way!” Lance let out a sad laugh. “If you want me to apologize to Shiro, fine. I’ve accepted what I am, and I know my place. I’ll apologize to him, it’s not like I have a right to human emotions. Now leave me the fuck alone.”,and with that, Lance continued to walk to his room.

“Lance please..” Keith had never sounded so desperate before. Lance stopped in his tracks, shocked at the tone of voice. “I just…I just wanna help you…I just wanna help make the team hole again…I just wanna make things right…For you…”

“You know, I’d like to believe that, I really would, but I can’t.” “Why…?”

“Every time we save someone, I feel like there’s actually hope, I feel that maybe one day this team could be like a family of some sort, maybe we could go outside and all join hands…but until then you’ll never understand!” “Never understand what…?!” “You all have guns but you never put the safety on! Every hateful word is the ammunition! And I’m the one everyone fires at!”

They both stood there, tears escaping their eyes. Keith finally realizing how shitty everyone treated Lance, immediately feeling horrible. “L-Lance..I-I’m so sorry…I’m s-sorry…” Lance’s glare softened for a moment. “Just…Leave me alone…” Lance walked away.

When Lance stepped into the dinning room he didn’t expect to find the other paladins and Allura sitting at the table, staring at their goo with sad and guilty expressions on their faces. When they noticed Lance, everyone’s head shot up to face him with sad smiles.

“Hey Lance…How’d you sleep?”,Pidge asked, her voice more gentle than usual. Lance merely shrugged, and that’s when the others realized how exhausted Lance looked. He had huge bags under his eyes, he looked pale, and his eyes looked a little bloodshot. The same question lingered through their minds, how long had Lance been like this?

“By the way Shiro, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out yesterday, it was wrong of me to do that. Shiro looked shocked. "O-Oh, uhm…it’s okay Lance…” Lance sat in his usual seat and began to eat the green food goo in front of him. During breakfast, it was so painfully silent. Nobody was speaking. “Why are you guys so quiet? It feels like a funeral in here.”,Lance said, beginning to feel cornered for the others. Nobody said anything. “Guys…?” Nothing. “If I did something wrong just yell at me already, I’d rather get it over with than have to know it could happen at any time…” No answer. Lance stood up and walked out of the dining room, trying not to break down.

After taking a quick stop to the bathroom to puke up his breakfast, Lance headed down to the training deck.

He set the training bot level to twenty seven, then he spoke the words he hated speaking, knowing that no matter how hard he works he wouldn’t be as strong as the others…

“Begin training sequence.”

This continued for days. Lance would head to breakfast and nobody would utter a word. He would train the entire day, sometimes he would show up to dinner, but it was just like breakfast. After dinner he would lock himself in the bathroom to cut, then he’d clean up and head back to his room, crying for hours, never really falling asleep. Nobody would speak. Hell, even Coran was quiet.

He kept apologizing to the others, telling them he was sorry for lashing out the way he had, saying sorry for being so annoying, saying sorry for whatever he did to make everyone go silent, even though he had no clue what that was.

Lance blamed himself for this, and decided to do something he felt he should’ve done a long time ago.

He made his way to the observation deck, or the stargazing room as he liked to call it. He held a folded piece of paper in one hand, and in the other his bayard. That handy note of his? It went a little something like this;

Hey everyone,

I’m sorry if anyone actually misses me, but I doubt it. Nobody would speak where I happened to be, which is probably my fault anyways. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry. If you guys could, tell my family I died in a crazy battle of some sort? It would kill them to know I actually committed suicide.

Coran, you were the one person who was ever really there for me. You’re a great guy, and I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around much longer.

Hunk, you’ve been my best friend for the longest time, and thank you for not saying a lot about me, aside from a small almost harmless comment or two.

Pidge, you were like a little sister to me, and even though you probably hated me I just want to tell you that I know you’ll find your family out here, if anyone can do it, it’s you.

Allura, I know my flirting was probably more than annoying, and I’m sorry for that, but I just want you two know you were like a sister to me in most ways. I know if you hated any paladin, it would be me, so I’m sorry for never really being able to provide much to the team and I’m sorry I’m just giving up like this. Pilot Blue for me, will ya? I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it but you.

Shiro, even though you probably always hated me, I looked up to you, even after everything I still do. Promise me in the future you’ll find a better outlet for your problems? And make sure the others do too, I’m not there to take it anymore so you guys need to find something better and less hurtful. And please don’t blame everything on yourself. You’re doing your best as the leader and that’s all anyone could ask of you.

Keith, I never hated you or your mullet. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a thing for you since the Garrison. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I just wanna apologize for starting that whole rivalry between us and thank you for trying to get me to talk through my problems, that was more than most people ever did.

Again, I’m sorry everyone, but stay strong for me, okay?

-Lance

Lance pulled up the map and looked for Earth, gently smiling at the sight of his home planet. He held the note close to his chest, activated his bayard, and held the barrel of the gun to the side of his head. “Hey Lance are you in here-LANCE!” 'Keith…I’m sorry.’ Just as Lance was about to pull the trigger, he was knocked over and his bayard fell out of his hand, deactivating the second it touch the ground. Keith looked up to see that Lance was alive, and the tears that had been brimming at the corners of his eyes overflew.

Lance sat up and let out a muffled sob, followed by him mumbling,“I-I can’t even d-die correctly…” Keith wrapped his arms around the boy and pulled him into his lap. Lance buried his face into Keith’s chest, gripping onto his black t-shirt as if his life depended on it. “L-Lance, I-I’m so sorry, I can’t say it enough a-and I know that you’ll probably never forgive me a-and that you h-hate me, but I-I love you s-so much, I-I c-can’t lose you Lance..P-Please…” Lance only cried harder, clinging onto Keith. “I-I’m s-sorry, I d-didn’t think anybody c-cared, e-everyone had b-blocked me out a-and I-I thought it w-was some pact o-or something s-so that way m-maybe I w-would leave and y-you guys w-would be a better t-team without t-that fuck up Lance, Lance w-who can’t even k-kill himself properly…”,Lance had spoke, sobbing and hiccuping, causing Keith’s heart to break more than it already had.

“W-We were q-quiet because w-we were scared of hurting you a-anymore…W-We all feel s-so fucking bad about everything we’ve done, w-we just didn’t know how to say it o-or go about it..I-I wanted to talk t-to you sooner but S-Shiro wanted to give you s-some space, but I-I needed to talk to you and when I walked in to s-see you with the gun to y-your head..L-Lance I was terrified I was gonna l-lose you…I-I love you L-Lance..” “I-I l-love y-you t-too..”

“Keith, did you find him-”,Pidge stopped mid sentence before calling out to the others and running over to the two. “W-What happened…?”,she asked, scared that what she thought almost happened actually almost happened. Lance and Keith only cried more, Keith’s hold on Lance tightening, as if Keith was scared that if he let go Lance would disappear. As soon as the others arrived, it was no question what was happening next. Everyone gathered around Lance, hugging him, crying and apologizing, telling him they care about him and how amazing he was.

By the time everyone had stopped crying, it was around breakfast time. “Hey Lance, do you want me to try to cook up some pancakes for breakfast?”,Hunk asked his best friend. Lance flashed a small smile and nodded while wiping his tears away with his sleeve. “Alright, I’ve been working on this for a while and I think I can pull it off, I’ll go get started.”,Hunk said as he stood up. Coran stood up as well. “I’m sure there’s something that needs repair, stay safe my boy.” Coran and Hunk left the room to go off to do their own things. “Hey Lance, what if I told you I’ve been trying to make a space version of an iPhone?” Lance looked at Pidge, a little shocked and very intrigued. “R-Really? That sounds fantastic..!” “How would you like the first one?” “S-Seriously?!” “Hell yes.” “I-I’d love one Pidge, thank you…” She smiled at him before standing up. “I’m gonna work on it then, I’ll bring it to you as soon as I’m done.”,she told the blue paladin as she left the room. Allura cleared her throats and spoke,“Me and Shiro have some important matters to discuss, I assume you two will be perfectly fine on your own?” Keith and Lance nodded yes, and then Allura grabbed Shiro’s wrist and dragged him out of the room with her.

Keith and Lance made eye contact, and then Keith did something Lance never would’ve expected. Keith kissed him.

It was only a peck on the lips, yes, but to Lance it was everything, and he found himself smiling. “Stay alive, for me..?” “Yeah, I think I can do that.”