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yacinthemorning · 1 year

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Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 4

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Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hyrbid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

“Are you sure you cannot stay another few weeks?” Jimmy pleaded. “I’m sure Lizzie would love to have you at her party. We barely got to speak.”

Pearl took her mended clothing with a muttered thank you and handed it to Gem, who was packing all of it away into their bags. “As nice as it is to visit my dear little brothers, our competitors won’t sit around waiting on a good bounty to make it fair. Besides, pretty soon we’ll be leeching off Grian if we stick around.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. Stashed away in some labyrinthian caves in the desert was likely more hard cash than even Grian had in the bank and tied up in investments combined. Unless she retired, however, it went unspoken. Hopefully retired, at least.

In any case, it had cooled down enough from the heat wave for her to wear her favourite dark blue duster, now hemmed an inch shorter and sporting new buttons. With her wide-brimmed hat and large boots, she looked like a true gunslinger. All the more terrifying when she would circle overhead like a vulture, as Gem enjoyed bragging.

“Well, stop by the sheriff’s office before you leave, then. I’m sure False has a bounty or two for folks who ran off into the desert.” Grian said. “Heavens knows no one else comes this way to pick them up.”

With a grin and a yank at something sticking out of her satchel Gem happily informed them, “Oh, we know. Already taken care of!” The poster was worn from age, damaged and sun bleached, leaving the name ‘Orion’ almost illegible. It was a young man, looking absolutely ridiculous in a theatre costume, with the sort of smile a kid wore before pulling his sister’s pigtails. There was a moderate bounty of 100 diamonds, alive, listed. Scamming and conman activities were the man’s only crimes. If that was the bar these days, then Scar should have been arrested years ago.

Actually, he simply should have been arrested years ago, period.

But Jimmy put that thought aside for now. At that moment Gem and Pearl were locking up their luggage to take out to the horses. Tango waited outside with the beasts, patting down their snouts. His tail danced behind him whenever they nudged into his palm.

A smile crept up onto Jimmy’s face as he approached. “Keeping them company? Or just avoiding luggage?”

“Do you need help?” Tango quickly jumped to attention. It was a curious habit of his, making himself as available as possible. If Jimmy had to guess, it was to do with those awful mines.

Wherever it originated, he wasn’t about to entertain it. “Not at all. I was just wondering where you ran off to.”

“Oh, well, I figured you’d all be wanting a last moment with the family.” Shrugged the blazeborn, shrinking in on himself.

Pearl let out a squawk, a warning that whatever she was about it say, Jimmy would be the one to regret it. “Well what, are you saying you’re not part of the flock? You got your talons in Jim’s feathers, I figured.”

“Pearl!” Jimmy shrieked, turning beet red. Why was he always right?

Tango gave a lopsided grin in reply. “Not yet, ma’am. That job’s still a work in progress.”

“Tango!”

“Well, when you get around to making this silly man less lonely, do be sure to send a letter.” Her eyes softened.

After her words Jimmy tuned out the rest of the stressful conversation until it came to an end. Bags packed and brothers humiliated, Pearl leapt up onto her steed and waved them off. “We’ll be back for the holidays, I reckon. Good luck and good bye!” She said, backed by a giggle and wave from Gem.

It was silent as they watched the two women ride off into the scrublands, until Grian squawked with a pout. “Good riddance! If she’d stayed any longer then I’d be the one on a bounty poster.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, patting his brother’s shoulder. “Well, you have a good day doing whatever it is you do to wring money from the poor, I have to finish the mayor’s dress.”

A colourful wing flitted through the air by Jimmy’s head. “Off back to your burrow with you, then.”

“Y’both so dramatic.” Sighed Mumbo behind his parasol, to which he received a pair of indignant squawks.

“Your family really are theatrical.”

Jimmy pursed his lips, not looking up from the sewing machine. Though it’d been several days he was still getting used to the contraption. Most unfortunately, since it was homemade it lacked a manual, and Tango had a talent for explaining everything in too much detail to where Jimmy understood little of it. Still, the gift was a godsend, allowing him to finish the most tedious work that would take hours within minutes. “Why do you say that?” Jimmy asked while he finished lining a pocket.

Tango rocked back until his hair rested against the desk. What had he been working on again? An aether clock? “You don’t make many chirps or tweets around town, but whenever you’re together it’s like a morning chorus.”

“Well, apologies.” He huffed. A bit pointedly he set the pocket aside.

“I don’t mean it like that.” Tango attempted to backpedal. It wouldn’t work on Jimmy, and he should know better. “It’s cute.” He gave a sharp-toothed grin, eyes narrowed with honest affection.

Okay, so perhaps it worked a little.

Jimmy kept his eyes away, rummaging through his button drawer. “Of course when speaking with other avians we would communicate in our own way. Do you not do so with other blazeborn?”

“There aren’t any other netherborn in Tumble Town.”

Right. There were at most three hundred folks, including the miners, of course there were no other netherborn. If there was, Jimmy would not be in the predicament that led to Tango remaining with him to begin with.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly stuttered, to which Tango waved him off.

“It’s not a big deal, I didn’t know many other blazeborn even back in the Nether.”

Swallowing his guilt to make room for curiosity, Jimmy asked. “Do you not have a flock? Even back across the way?”

Hackles rose, figuratively and literally, and the air became a bit tense. There was an unspoken law among the cowboys and frontiersmen. Never follow a man’s steps in the sands, backwards or forwards . They were all reborn when they first walked into Main Street.

Yet Jimmy couldn’t help himself. It is, perhaps, that he was not quite cut out for frontier life like Pearl or Fwhip, who took full advantage of its lifestyle. He was simply a mediocre tailor with a bad habit of sticking his nose where it likely didn’t belong. Instead, he toyed with the button in his hand, waiting to be told to mind his business.

Tango shuffled, contemplating the question, Or, more likely, contemplating if he would bother to answer. It was just as Jimmy was preparing to apologize and change the subject that Tango spoke up. “I never had a pyre before. Only here, only Impulse, Zed, and… uh, you?” He muttered the last bit uncertainly, eyeing the avian for permission to speak the words.

Jimmy nodded, though his cheeks darkened. Out of the corner of his eye Tango’s tail flicked out, glowing just a bit brighter.

“Yeah.” Tango sniffed. “I guess it’s part o’ why I’m here. Land of opportunities and all that. Hard to get anywhere on your own everywhere, though, I guess.”

Warmed button still in hand, Jimmy palmed his cheek and rested his elbow on the desk, examining his companion. A shiver ran through his wings, feathers fluffing. “I suppose it’s because we’re not meant to be alone.” He mused with a smile.

He got a raised eyebrow and snorted in return, though a smile did form as well. “I like that idea a lot better than the one I had…”

“There can be multiple truths.”

“I suppose… What about you, Sunshine?” Tango’s head swivelled towards the windows where sunset was beginning to pour through.

“What about me? You’ve met my siblings.”

“Is that all, though?”

“Mmm…” Jimmy lulled his head into his hand. “We flew the coop, so to speak, and so ‘before’ no longer matters. Sheriff False is certainly flock. I’m not particularly close with her, but Grian and Pearl say she is.”

“So, it’s a group decision?” Curiosity danced in Tango’s eyes.

“Yes. There’s flock, and then there’s nests within the flock.” Though, in his case, he only had a flock. Unlike his brother, who was making a collection of watery-eyed strays doing their best to run his coffers dry, Jimmy was just fine on his own. So much for the dependable eldest and bumbling youngest.

Tango hummed, “I see.” A soft breeze rattled the windows, drawing attention to the darkened twilight. Something seemed on Tango’s mind with no intent to share. Instead, he turned a sheepish smile on Jimmy. “Pyre’s not quite the same. It’s a personal affair.”

Jimmy nodded absently, still searching for an answer. “Most hybrids’ terms differ greatly in meaning. Mayor Lizzie would be no mayor if not for such a misunderstanding.”

“What?” A laugh burst from Tango.

Jimmy joined him. “I suppose you weren’t here when it happened. She became mayor not long after her arrival. There was none before her. We’re such a small community. She was quite friendly, supportive, curious to learn about everyone. We thought ‘ Oh, how welcoming, despite being the one who is new, treating everyone with such investment. Surely, she’s a natural born leader.’ ”

Tango seemed barely able to contain his amusement. “Mhm?”

“What a bunch of landfolk in the scrubs didn’t know was that, in fact, a school is much less intimate than a flock or a pyre. A woman who was simply scouting out her new school became confused for a campaign from a very respectable candidate and, well… the next month we had a mayoral office.”

“Amazing.” He let out a short wheeze, shaking his head. “Only out here.” The sparks of amusement in his hair were the only thing which lit the desk now.

“Indeed. Though, she has done a splendid job for the most part.” Jimmy sighed and stood up. As he flipped the sign on the door and closed the shutters Tango pulled out a lamp. One of his many homemade projects, a simple twist of a nob had redstone spark the glowstone within. Not a personal invention, much like the sewing machine, but a luxury universal only to the coast. Only a few lamps in Jimmy’s house had yet to be converted, and he couldn’t deny the convenience.

Convenient. There was the word he might use to describe his life recently, ever since they met. Chores were done quicker, work was easier. Jimmy refused to take money from Tango, but he found loopholes around it by paying for groceries and things such as the lamps.

It flickered, casting light enough that they could easily continue work. A month ago, he would have been ecstatic to do just that. “How did the stew look?” He absently asked instead.

“Ready whenever we are.” Tango replied, picking the lamp up. It seemed almost dull placed next to his inviting smile.

His eyebrow rose and long claws reached out towards Jimmy. They poked at his cheek and a pressure he had not noticed released. Held up to the light was a small button. “You’re starting to become your clothes.” He teased.

A quiet trill vibrated in Jimmy’s throat, “I suppose that means I should stop for tonight, then.”

“I suppose so.”

Curtains pulled back, and out walked Lizzie. Silks shimmering between violet and azure draped over her petticoat, bundled to meet an as-of-yet undecorated neckline. Despite its incompleteness it flattered her figure to perfection. Pride swelled in Jimmy’s chest. Beside him, Tango let out a low whistle, while at his other side Joel had an expression as if it was the first time he’d laid eyes on her all over again. The mayor let out a shy giggle, spinning slowly to let the watery silk flow around her with the long fins of her tail.

“Oh, Jimmy, it looks absolutely wonderful!” She cooed as he approached to adjust a draping. Though it was yards more material than he was used to thanks to her great stature, it made it much easier to see what needed to be done.

His feathers puffed up, nodding vigorously in agreement. “I was terrified how it might come out, but this may be the best piece I’ve made so far.”

“Thank you so, so much for this.”

“Is the neckline low enough? Not too snug?” Jimmy asked, leaning past her shoulder to check the lacing and buttons were in place.

Lizzie shifted, her large tail swaying underneath, its moisture safe from the sun and unabsorbed by the ocean silk. Gills flexed along her neck and chest as a test. “I don’t believe so, no. All gills accounted for.”

A hand smacked into Jimmy’s shoulder, nearly knocking him over. Tango snickered. “Relax, Jimmy, you did amazing! You’re gonna put a kink in your neck if you don’t slow down.”

“Oh, he’s just a proud little birdie.” Lizzie joined in on the teasing, cupping Jimmy’s face to give it a small shake. The small down running across the crest of his cheek flared to avoid her hands’ beaded webbing. If a childish whine left him then he would deny it.

He stepped back to survey his work one more time. Joel approached to whisper something to his wife which made her expression soften. Delicately she bent down to give her husband a peck, first on his forehead, then lips, and whispered something back. If Jimmy strained his ears forward he could have easily captured their words, but he kept his feathers rested. Something warm strained at his chest forcing even his gaze away.

The fitting continued. Conversation devolved from work into gossip as soon as Joel had made the mistake of mentioning the young shepherd at the other end of town and the proclaimed medium she had living on her property.

“Katherine swears by her seances, she says she spoke to her grandmother!” Lizzie insisted, making a wide arm gesture that nearly tore the fabric out of Jimmy’s hand.

Joel seemed less amused, shaking his head. “All that occult nonsense is just a con, no more reliable than Scar’s cure-alls.”

Hurt and betrayed, she turned to Jimmy with a plea for support. His wings twitched uncomfortably, and he kept his eyes on his adjustment work instead. “I suppose… If it hurts no one, it’s harmless either way.”

“It sounds like fun!” Tango interjected. To Jimmy’s surprise, there was a bright spark of fascination in his eyes. It received a pleased tail slap from Lizzie, which caught the hem of her dress and pulled a bit too roughly. He needed to shorten it just a bit further, it seemed.

“I took you for a man of science, Tango, not faith and spirits.” Joel vocalized for them both.

The blazeborn shrugged. “Well, if spirits exist, then what’s more scientific than contacting and speaking to them yourself? And besides, what’s science matter to a bit of fun?”

Lizzie let out a pleased, bubbly sound, looking between the three men. “Oh, yes! You understand perfectly! Joel, we should meet with Katherine and ask her to host a seance for us. We could speak to my father!”

“Yes, dear.” His words came out exasperated, but an amused smile rested on his face. Once again, he focused down on his work instead. His wings twitched in agitation at the completed draping rumpled by his talon. The work had been done a while ago.

“… Jimmy?”

“Hm?” His head shot up, looking with Tango’s gaze, wrinkled in the corners by amusement.

“Would you like to go with them?” He repeated, presumably.

Jimmy’s wings tighten around his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t really have anyone to contact.”

“I don’t think you need to.” Tango’s tail curled, expression wilting into something softer. “If it’s not interesting to you, though-”

“No, we can go.” He assured. “It… may be fun.”

“Splendid!” Lizzie clapped, beaming. “We’ll set up the seance and tell you the date on our way back. I can’t wait!”

“Are you sure you want to go?” Tango asked once their customers left. “We don’t have to if you’re not interested.”

Jimmy was in the middle of carefully placing Lizzie’s dress back upon the mannequin, stopping to lock eyes with the other man so he might be assured. “I have nothing against going. If it would be fun for you, then we should.”

He shook his head, fiddling with the cuff of his work shirt. “You don’t have to go just for my sake.”

“No, that’s…” Jimmy’s voice wandered away with his thoughts. Recollections of earlier, of the whispers and fond gazes. “I enjoy you enjoying yourself.” He finally said, becoming a bit pink from his fumbled words.

A darkness dusted over Tango’s cheeks as well, but it disappeared under one of his radiant smiles. “I do, too. Enjoy you enjoying yourself.” He whispered back. Jimmy was unsure if he was intended to hear it, but he had, and it wreaked further havoc on the warmth in his chest.

“We should get back to work.” He stuttered, rushing his pace back to his desk, hoping there was something he needed from it that would distract him. Anything, besides confronting the fond gaze he could feel on his back.

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #team rancher #rancher duo #trafficshipping #mcyt #traffic series #hermitpires #alternate universe #western fantasy #fluff #hurt/comfort #slice of life #sharing a slice of cake

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aparticularbandit · 5 months

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Of An Endless Infinity: Day ??? (III)

Summary: What does it mean to be the Ultimate Hope?

Is it only hope on the big scale? That the world is not so dark and depressing and destructive as the villain in front of you says it is? That you can win, even when everything else says that you can’t? That maybe it is better to live your life, even afraid, than it is to keep yourself sequestered away, alone?

Does it not also mean hope on the small scale?

Or: Makoto sacrifices himself in the hope that the other survivors might be able to help Junko. It remains to be seen whether this will actually succeed.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M for Danganronpa reasons.

AO3

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Day ??? (of an Endless Infinity).

“What did you hear?”

That’s the most important thing, far more important than asking what she’d said. Kyoko could have said a lot of things while dreaming, and none of that would matter if Junko didn’t hear it. (Of course, it crosses her mind that Junko could lie to her. There’s no reason to believe that she won’t, especially since she still retains her knowledge of the years Kyoko has forgotten and can create a whole other story with hints and allusions to what actually happened just to play another sickening game with her.

And yet, something deep in Kyoko’s chest hopes for something else. Hopes that Junko will speak the truth, even if she uses it as a weapon.

(A third part of her is terrified that she will.))

“Nothing much.” Junko shrugs. She stretches her arms over her head, grabs her wrist with one hand, and pulls until her elbow pops. “What did you dream about?” she asks around a mouthful of a yawn.

“Nothing much,” Kyoko lies. Her gaze drifts away from Junko to the sheets at the foot of her bed, all crumpled, wrinkled, near to tangled. She can’t talk about that dream with Junko anyway. Doesn’t want to talk about her. (Refuses to accept that she’s afraid to talk about it with her.) And yet, the dream looms large in her mind, like a memory unlocked. “Did you have good dreams?”

Junko snorts as she fluffs her pillow, as she sets it behind her back, as she sits up and leans against it. “Define good.”

Before Kyoko can respond, a knock comes, sharp, at her door, followed by the equally sharp bark of Byakuya. “Open up, Enoshima. Food’s here.”

Kyoko shoots her a look.

Junko just rolls her eyes. “Oh, they think they’re safer if I’m locked in here with you. You know. Prisoner stuff.” She sighs. “Like that could do anything to me.” Her gaze drifts to Kyoko. “Want me to—”

“No. I’ll take care of it.” Kyoko pushes herself out of bed and sets her bare feet on the cold blue tiled floor. She doesn’t particularly want Byakuya to see her like this – who knows how long without a shower, in nothing more than her nightgown and gloves – but unless she wants Junko to confront him herself….

(Junko could have confronted him before now. She didn’t. Instead, she chose to stay here, in this room, with her. That has to mean something.)

((It’s Junko. That doesn’t mean anything.))

Kyoko opens her door to a Byakuya who isn’t even paying attention to her, whose gaze is elsewhere, as turned away from her at this point as he can be. Her eyes narrow.

“Here,” Byakuya says as soon as the door opens, shoving a tray of disgusting looking food at her. “Breakfast. Enjoy.”

“I think not.”

Byakuya’s brows shoot up, and he turns to Kyoko with a quickly stifled look of astonishment. “So you aren’t dead,” he murmurs. Then he smirks. “Of course, she wouldn’t let her most loyal knight die.”

Kyoko’s eyes narrow. “I am no one’s knight.” Not that she particularly cares what he thinks. “And you shouldn’t treat Junko like a—”

“A murderer?” Byakuya completes, looking down on her with contempt. “The mastermind? The reason we’re all trapped in here?”

“Makoto is the reason we’re still trapped in here, not Junko,” Kyoko counters because it’s the truth. She knows it’s the truth; even if there’s no way to see how any of them voted, Makoto communicated that much to her just by expression and look alone. That anyone might think differently boggles her mind. “He believed we could help her—”

“Funny words, coming from you,” Byakuya sneers.

Kyoko’s eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Byakuya looks away from her again. “If you can’t figure it out, then you aren’t half the detective you make yourself out to be.” He crosses his arms and glares down on her. “You shouldn’t treat her like she’s just one of us,” he continues before making a tsking sound. “Most loyal knight, indeed.”

“I told you, I am not—”

It isn’t, strictly speaking, the worst possible thing for Junko to place her chin on Kyoko’s shoulder at this precise moment, but it’s certainly not a good thing, and so when this is, in fact, exactly what she does, Kyoko freezes up.

Not that it matters.

“You’re not fighting over little old me, are you?” Junko asks cheerily. She carefully – gently – snakes one arm around Kyoko’s waist. “I’ll have you know—”

“Junko,” Kyoko hisses. She grabs Junko’s wrist and pulls her arm away from her. “Not now.”

Byakuya scoffs. “No, no. Let your little girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Kyoko snaps. She tugs herself out of Junko’s grasp, glares at her, pretends that she doesn’t see the flash of pain in Junko’s eyes hidden behind the grin that she still hasn’t dropped, and then turns back to Byakuya. “I could say the same about you and Toko.”

“But you won’t,” Junko comments without a hint of pain in her voice, without losing any of her cheer at all.

A breath hisses through Kyoko’s teeth. “No,” she says, “I won’t.” She stares down at the bundle of food on Byakuya’s tray. “And we won’t be needing that.”

Byakuya’s teeth grit together. “You think we’ll just let you—” He cuts himself off, corrects himself. “Let her—” He stops himself again. “Fine.”

Before either of them can say anything else, Byakuya stalks off, dropping the tray to the floor with a splatter. Junko jumps back before any of the food splashes on her, but Kyoko stays precisely where she is. In fact, she steps out of the dorm just enough to glance down the hallway; there’s no one else there, and Byakuya quickly disappears into his room. Her eyes narrow. Then she steps back into her dorm and shuts the door behind her, placing her hand flat against it, wincing slightly when she does. “Junko,” she says, voice as firm as she can make it, “how long was I out?”

“Out?” Junko echoes.

Kyoko crosses her arms. As she turns back to her, she finds that Junko has moved back to her own mattress. “Out,” she repeats, a little more insistent this time. Then she considers and rephrases her question before asking, “How long have they been keeping you in here?”

“Oh.” Junko pushes a hand through her hair, winces when her fingers run into tangles, and then plops back flat on her mattress, arms spread out on either side of her. “A couple days? I didn’t keep track.” She stares up at the ceiling. “I was making sure you didn’t die.”

“I wouldn’t have died.” Kyoko sits on the edge of her bed. “But thank you. For keeping an eye on me.”

“No problem.” Junko sports a grin. “This girl I liked once – she taught me everything about being a nurse. Everything. So it was fun to play with you. Test everything out, you know?” She sighs, and the grin disappears. “Also, you’ve got 560 of those print things in your wallpaper. And 1,575,241 popcorn divots in your ceiling.” She continues to look up. “You’d think it’d be a round number. You’d think there would be an even number in each of those grids.” One hand raises just enough to point at the ceiling. “You’d be wrong.”

Kyoko smiles, a soft, small thing. “You must have been pretty bored.”

“I was so bored!” Junko springs up, hands on her ankles. “You were asleep and no one was here and I didn’t even have the video feeds anymore. There was nothing to do.” She scowls. “Toko wouldn’t even give me my story back. Something something not finished.” Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t think there was that much wrong with it.”

On an instinct she doesn’t understand, Kyoko reaches over and ruffles Junko’s hair. Something in her recoils the moment she does it, and she covers up the action by grimacing at the tangles she sees. “Would you like me to brush out your hair?”

Junko leans into her touch the way a cat butts its head against the hand it wants to pet it. Then she looks up with big blue-grey eyes and nearly purrs, “Yes, please.”

That same something that responds to Junko with fondness causes a sharp, aching pain in Kyoko’s chest that she doesn’t quite understand and, instinctively, hates for that sole reason. She averts her gaze, even though she can still feel Junko’s eyes on her, and says, “Braid your hair. Before you sleep. I can’t do this every morning.”

“But I like when you do this,” Junko murmurs as she climbs onto Kyoko’s bed and sits, cross-legged, in front of her. “You’re very gentle. It’s nice.”

“No one has ever been this gentle with me before.”

Kyoko flinches.

Junko didn’t say it, but she heard it, clearly, in her voice, as though brought forth unbidden by…by something. Something she can’t remember. Something buried, hidden in the depths of her mind. Something that fills her with….

Her brow furrows. “Not every morning,” she repeats, as though that will soothe her.

Junko just nods. “Not every morning,” she echoes.

It doesn’t make her feel any better.

Kyoko’s stomach rumbles far too many times while she brushes the tangles from Junko’s hair – loud enough for Junko to comment on them (“Ugh, what is that sound?”) – and she finds herself idly looking around the room for any spare trays that might still be left from Junko’s other meals. Somehow, she doesn’t think that Byakuya – or any of the others – would quite enjoy cleaning up after Junko. Besides, it isn’t as though Byakuya asked for a used dinner tray.

And yet, no trays.

Perhaps she’s wrong. But intuition tells her she isn’t.

Which means—

“Junko?”

“Hm?” Junko tilts her head back and looks up at Kyoko with wide eyes.

“Your secret tunnels…they do everywhere in the school, don’t they?” Kyoko meets her eyes with a blank expression. “You even have one here, to my room.”

“Well, duh.” Junko scoots to the edge of the mattress. “You said it yourself – Monokuma Escape Routes, or whatever. How else do you think he popped up everywhere all the time?” One hand brushes through her long pink hair, and she giggles. “This is so much better.” Then she turns back to Kyoko with a grin. “Now. I want to take that raincheck.”

Kyoko’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You want to cook something? Right now?”

“Oh, so that’s what you meant!” Junko snaps her fingers. “I wonder.” She taps her chin. “When did you come up with that idea?”

Ah. So that was another hallucination. One that she hadn’t caught.

Kyoko’s face flushes a dark red as she pushes herself out of bed. “Fine. No raincheck. No cooking together.”

“No, no!” Junko grabs her arm and holds her in place. “I would love to cook with you!” Her lips burst into a giddily bright grin. “I’m actually a great cook, if you can believe that!”

Kyoko opens her mouth to say something, but her stomach rumbles so loud it cuts herself off before she can even begin. She crosses her arms and turns away, despite the fact that she can hear Junko giggling behind her. “Not breakfast,” she says, finally. “But maybe—”

“Eat and then cook,” Junko completes for her, prancing off to the door. “Got it.” Then she glances over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”

“Not in my nightgown.” Kyoko gives Junko a once-over then hesitates before saying, “Not in that either.”

Junko glances down. “Nah. This is fine.” She winks. “I’m gonna break hearts!”

Kyoko gives her another once-over and then meets her eyes, both brows lifting. Junko’s outfit’s the same cutaway that Kyoko—

….

Kyoko’s brow furrows.

“Kyokyo?” Junko asks, raising one brow. “Something wrong?” She gestures to her outfit. “Other than whatever you think is wrong with this?”

“No,” Kyoko murmurs.

Except.

Except she remembers Junko wearing a top quite similar to this one – a silken top that ties together just over her chest – but she remembers it in all black instead of as it is now, black on one side and white on the other. She remembers Junko wearing it with her Sweetie Pants, not with the long silken black one with scattered red dots that she currently wears with their ends rolled up (this has to be a stylistic choice; the Ultimate Fashionista would never have clothes that didn’t fit just the exact way she wanted). She remembers, and her head itches with the memory of it all, not the way her hands itched when they first began to heal, but the way they itch sometimes even now.

Her head tilts. “Do you….”

No.

There’s no need to ask.

After two days, Junko will want other clothes. Eventually. And Kyoko can examine the racks for the one she remembers then.

“Do I what?” Junko asks, propping her hands on her hips and leaning forward. “You know, you shouldn’t start questions if you’re not going to finish them!” She wags a finger at her.

“Do you not have anything else?” Kyoko asks instead.

Junko’s brow furrows, and her face grows a bright strawberry red. “Not here!” She gestures to the door. “Everything’s dirty or in my dorm, and they wouldn’t let me leave!”

Kyoko resists the urge to ask why Junko didn’t just use her secret tunnels to get more clothes. Then, on second consideration, she realizes that she hasn’t seen Junko in this particular outfit since the end of the Game (and not before it, either, as far as she can remember), realizes that it wasn’t part of the bunch Junko brought with her when they moved the mattress, and then understands that Junko absolutely has used her tunnels to get more clothes. Just as she needs – or wants – them.

Or she’s lying again, but why would she need to lie about something like this?

“We can get more—”

Kyoko’s stomach rumbles again, even louder this time.

“After food.” Junko pokes Kyoko’s stomach – or tries to. When Kyoko deftly moves to the side, though, her other finger is waiting for a much better poke, right in the space between her ribs, eliciting an unintended (and unwanted!) squeak. She grins, all teeth and thin lips. “Good to know that still works. You’re so—”

“Predictable?”

Junko’s head tilts to one side. “No.” That smile again, like some sort of horror movie villain. “Cute.”

Even after she’s changed, even after they’ve made it to the kitchen, even after she’s had a cup of coffee (“You think I’m crazy, but you’re the one who likes drinking shit! Literal shit!”), even after she’s eaten something light to help ease her rumbling stomach, the idea of Junko calling her cute still makes Kyoko’s flesh crawl. It’s something about that, about Junko knowing just how to get around her dodge, how to just—

“That still works.”

“Because you love me.”

Kyoko shoves the thoughts out of her mind and sits atop one of the silver chairs she’s pulled in from the dining room. No one was out there waiting for them; why would they be? Even if they hadn’t arrived late, she feels as though there’s an entire other conversation taking place, one she isn’t privy to. Why else would Toko have brought Jack forth the exact moment Kyoko was compromised (if that was even real)? Why else would they have left her completely alone with Junko with no one else to make sure she would be safe? Why else would—

“What are you cooking?”

“What are we cooking,” Junko corrects, as she passes Kyoko a bowl with a mixture of powders and eggs. “Stir this, please.”

Kyoko raises a brow and stares at Junko’s bowl, which looks identical to hers. “What are we making,” she corrects herself, “that requires two bowls of the exact same thing?”

“Not the same.” Junko points to her bowl. “Mine has yeast. Yours doesn’t.” Then she points to a third bowl. “That one’s got pumpkin spice.” Points to a fourth bowl. “Cocoa.” Points to a fifth. “Also yeast, also cocoa.” Points to an empty space. Grimaces. Shrugs. “For the first bowl we have empty.”

“But what are we making?” Kyoko repeats, a little more insistently this time. “And why do we need so many bowls?”

Junko’s head tilts to one side. “Don’t you know, Kyokyo? There’s nothing better for easy cooking than donuts.”

The first tray has barely been in the oven five minutes before Hina enters the kitchen, nose in the air, sniffing like a kitten when a fresh can of tuna has just opened. Her eyes close, and she takes a deep breath in, relaxing as she lets it out in a contented sigh. “Donuts.” She opens her eyes with a happy smile. “Fresh donuts!” Only for her expression to freeze when she sees Junko setting another tray in the oven.

“It’s okay, Hina.” Kyoko reaches over with her free hand and pats Hina’s shoulder gently, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain at its center as she does so. “They’re safe.”

Hina turns to her, eyes wide. “Are they?” Her gaze drops, and her hands fidget in front of her. “You didn’t….” She stumbles over the words, stops herself. “You wouldn’t have….” Her gaze flicks over to Junko, who seems not to be paying them any attention as she mixes chocolate frosting, which is just as well. Then she sighs. “I…I can’t.” She turns and starts to leave.

Confused, Kyoko reaches out for her again, but before she can do anything, Junko shouts out, “Hey! Hina!”

Despite her apparent fear, Hina pauses. Her shoulders tense, and she doesn’t look back. “Yeah?”

“My favorite donut,” Junko says, leaning back against the counter, flow half-covering her clothes. “Do you remember what it is?”

“Of course, I don’t remember what it is,” Hina snaps, hands tightening into fists. “You never told me.”

Junko licks chocolate frosting from her thumb. “Say that again?”

Hina turns to her, glares at her. “I said you never told me.” Then she realizes what she’s said, and her eyes widen. She gasps.

Junko doesn’t miss a beat. “The last one I took,” she says, looking up and meeting Hina’s eyes. “That was my favorite. The chocolate bear claw.” She gives her a wink.

Hina runs.

Kyoko grits her teeth together. She caught it. One side glance to Junko shows that the other girl is keeping an eye on her, searching her expression, eager to see if she’s caught it, too. With Hina’s reaction, how could she not? So that can’t be why Junko is staring at her.

And yet. Junko is definitely searching her for something.

“Is that why you wanted to make donuts?” Kyoko asks, finally, as Junko pulls the first tray out of the oven. “You wanted to see if Hina’s memories were returning?”

Junko shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe I just felt like making donuts. Maybe both.” She picks one up, still piping hot, and takes a bite out of it without wincing. As she chews, she hums. “Pretty good. Not my best, but pretty good.” She holds the donut out to Kyoko. “Want a bite? I know you hate when the powdered sugar and glaze gets all over your gloves.” A grin curls her lips. “I’ll even feed it to you.”

“When they’ve cooled.”

Kyoko doesn’t have the heart to remind Junko that she doesn’t like donuts.

….

Kyoko doesn’t have the heart to remember why Junko knows.

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unhingedselfships · 1 year

Text

The party didn't start for another six hours or so.

Which meant now was the time to start prodding Kimi into moving.

Oh hair and makeup were quick with her, low maintenance as she was in those matters. And if she needed something more intensive, she'd get someone else to do it for her.

But clothes? Kimi had two settings.

Knowing exactly what she was wearing weeks or even months in advance and having it all laid out and ready.

Or, like tonight.

Sifting through more than one extensive closet with no idea what she wanted.

He was glad she'd already started.

Less glad she appeared to have already given up.

She was curled on the floor, in front of a full length mirror, chin tucked on her knees, staring loathingly at the reflection. Clothes were strewn every which where, and she had nothing but basic undergarments on.

Apparently it was one of those days.

"I'm not going," her tone was petulant.

"Do not be a child, Kimberly."

"I don't want to go."

"You wanted to this morning."

"I changed my mind."

"Why," he was rapidly losing patience with the girl.

She glared balefully at him over her shoulder, "Look at me. I'm fucking disgusting."

He felt his temper spike, “Excuse me? You’re insulting my taste?”

Huffing she turned back away from him, but still glared at his form in the mirror.

“You can’t stand there and tell me I’m objectively anything but unattractive. I fit no modern conventions. I appreciate that you like me, for whatever reasons I don’t understand. I don’t, and neither does anyone else.

Her shoulders slumped further, “Dai and Phe don’t count. Phe is attracted to everyone, and Dai probably only stays out of obligation at this point.”

She knew that was a lie, and quite harsh of her but she wasn’t feeling very kind or charitable just then.

Meeting his eyes in the reflection, “We all make poor choices sometimes. I’m yours.”

Watching him, the way his eyes and expression shifted in that subtle way that meant he was deciding how annoyed or upset by something he was.

Voice brisk, “Fishing for compliments, are we, now? Well, you won’t get any more unless you pick something pretty and put it on for me. I didn’t want to go to this either, but you said it would be fun, you said you would go, and I don’t intend to deal with those people alone. So get a hold of yourself and get ready before I get pissed off and do something we’ll both regret.”

She curled slightly tighter before letting out a long breath.

“Nothing looks right. Nothing sits right. I tried. I’ll- Figure something out. Sorry.”

Glaring petulantly at the piles of fabric, she let just the barest hint of teasing slip into her lightening tone, “What are you even talking about, you don’t do regret. And I hate fishing. Most boring anything ever. Next to golf.”

Was she being a child? Absolutely. Was it helping? Sort of.

Whatever worked.

Rolling her neck and staring at him from an awkward angle, “What color should I wear then? Help me narrow it down won’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Wear something that will match what I’m wearing I guess?” he blinks, glancing at his watch, idea formed, “Hmm. Actually, I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet. I think it will take me about twenty minutes to decide for sure. Now it’s possible that if someone shows up in my room with her own outfit ready before twenty minutes are up, my mind won’t be made up yet and I might just let someone else decide what I wear. But in twenty minutes, I think I’ll have made a choice on my own. So long, Kimberly! Good luck picking!”

And he turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Blinking at where he had been she huffs, before rising to toe through her options again. Her mood was only mildly improved but oh well, she could manage.

Or well, she thought she could.

Slightly sheepish and very pouty, about seventeen minutes later, still not dressed, she slipped into his room, two hangers in hand.

“I can’t decide.”

He glances at them before pointing towards the left option, “Alright, now you didn’t arrive here with your outfit chosen like I’d asked. But I’m a generous man, so I’ll let you pick my tie. Only the tie.”

He said that like his tie wouldn’t also decide most of his other accessories but she let him have the win. Verbally anyway. And set about choosing one she thought would suit the dress he’d chosen for her, mumbling to herself about how much easier he was to dress than she was.

He leaned over her shoulder as she sifted through her options, “I am much less picky than you.”

She snorted, choked on her breath, before laughing, “Liar!”

And so they bantered as they got ready, and if his touches were a little softer, a little more frequent, than they normally might be well. Neither of them was going to mention it.

#yakkimi #kadokura-verse #kadokura kenshi #drabble #one shot

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aajjks · 8 months

Note

😂😂😂 alinaaa

BC!JK

“ahaha, i’m just gonna pretend i didn’t hear that and let the two of you talk” his mother laughs “before i knock my son’s head off of his shoulders and use it as a bowling ball”

jihye walks in the opposite direction to talk with the other guests leaving jungkook and soojin alone to talk but jungkook doesn’t even bother conversing with soojin because he clearly isn’t into her.

“i saw you and y/n leave together at the party” she smirks “you two together or something?” but she already knows what’s going on. jihye told both jaehan and soojin everything about you and it’s quite embarrassing to see how down bad jungkook is for you after all these years.

you completely rejected him and soojin takes pride in being the reason that you never gave jungkook a chance and after a little stalking, jungkook has again pushed you away.

she won’t lie, it’s hilarious watching jungkook fail and watching his karma follow him like a dark cloud because he deserved it for stringing her along and treating her like a toy.

“well, i already know the answer and i know you fucked up like always. you deserve whatever bad thing happens to you because you’re selfish and inconsiderate just like your parents. i don’t care to date you just wanted to see your misery up close and it’s a nice view, won’t lie” soojin shrugs before bypassing jungkook and grabbing a glass of wine to refresh herself.

right now, right at this moment, all jungkook wants to do is disappear. soojin might be right. maybe he does deserve the bad things that happens to him because he once again fucked up another chance to be with you and his parents doesn’t love him.

maybe nobody does.

everything becomes white noise when jungkook leaves his parent’s home and gets inside his car to leave whatever event his mother was hosting.

“our son really loves that girl, huh?” she says to jaehan as the married couple watches their son leave their home.

“well maybe if you would quit interfering in the boy’s romantic life he’d be married already”

“so you’re okay with him marrying trash?”

“i don’t care who our son marries. he could marry a wall for all i cared. my only concern is his performance with the company”

“soojin said the girl left him”

“good. she was probably a distraction anyways”

“bad. now the boy’s heart is broken and his primary focus won’t be the company”

“well that’s his fault. he knows the rules”

The next few weeks have gone by a blur his life has been the same actually.

He gets up he goes to work, tries to prove himself to his father every single day, and then comes back to an empty house that is too big for his liking, and the only thing that’s keeping him sane are his pets.

But the thing is that whenever he looks at Sage, he thinks about you- even boxing isn’t really distracting. And he hasn’t heard from you at all.

Soojins words still sting him, she is a bitch, and he doesn’t regret dumping her while he had the chance. He doesn’t want any woman in his life right now.

Not unless that woman is you.

And he cannot help but wonder how your ex has been doing and what he has been up to because he is the reason that you’re not giving jungkook a chance.

He has the urge to go to his house, confront him about breaking your heart and beat him to a pulp but then why should he concern himself with that guy?

You must be happy in your life, after all, you’re always happy whenever you break his heart over and over again. Yes, he realizes his mistake that he was really wrong to kiss you without your consent, especially when you were fresh out of your break up.

And he wishes that he could turn the time back and stop himself from committing that mistake. But he can’t, and he feels so alone, no one has ever loved him in his life.

Everyone has used him for their own gains. Even his parents don’t ask him why he is so depressed, and he drinks himself to death almost every night.

He is still crying sitting alone in his room.. he’s lost you forever, and it sucks to have that realization every single day and night when he doesn’t see you in his home.

Don’t you miss him? Don’t you want to forgive him?

Don’t you want to give him a chance?

#ask: bc!jk #😭😭

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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 11 months

Text

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (556): Sun 24th Sep 2023

My last day in Gran Canaria. I was a bit depressed knowing I had to go back to freezing Sunderland but reassured myself that I won’t have to tolerate the cold for long because I’m going to start making a holiday in the sun a regular treat for myself. I think I’ll start coming here four times a year to celebrate the end of the Autumn, the Winter, the Spring and possibly the coldest season in the UK: the summer. Unlike the hotels I stay in when I travel around the UK the hotel I was staying at didn’t require me to be up and out the door at the break of fucking dawn so I got a little bit of a lie in this morning. I’m already a little bit sunburnt and my clothes are irritating my skin so I didn’t go in the sun today in case I made it worse and was in agony for the entire journey home. Instead I sat in the shade and started reading the next book in my Edgar challenge: The Lock Artist by Steve Hamilton. It’s about a mute kid named Michael who from an early age becomes gifted at unlocking locks and naturally turns to a life of crime. While I was waiting for my coach to arrive I played some pool on the table by the pool area. After one shot the white ball went in one of the pockets and a guy walking by said “Two shots” and I replied “I’ve already had five pints” and despite this being the funniest thing anyone has ever said / ever will say he didn’t ask if he could be my best friend. I got picked up at 6pm to get taken to the airport and waved goodbye (for now) to this little slice of paradise. I’m so glad I decided to not bring a suitcase because being able by I get checked in and through to the departure lounge in a matter of minutes made this one of the most pleasurable journeys I’ve ever been on. I still had two hours to kill before my flight so I walked around looking for stuff to write jokes about. I walked past a clothing store and they had a big life size plastic cow on display and for some reason it was on wheels. Now I’ve heard of a milkfloat but that’s just ridiculous (that will not be one of the lines I use when I do stand up next year in case you’re wondering…unless everything else I write in the meantime is absolute shit). When I finally got on the plane the pilot told us that we were expected to get there ahead of time which got a big cheer from the passengers. The old woman next to me fell asleep and her head dropped down and to the side. If she was sitting alone in a room on a chair like that you would’ve sworn she’d been shot from behind. I assumed that she’d be really uncomfortable when she woke up but she was really old so I assume that every time she wakes up she’s just happy that she’s not in Hell. We got home in just under four hours and I immediately darted past all the suckers at baggage claim, through the passport checking place, out the front door, let out the mother of all farts I’d been holding in for just over four hours then headed back in and got myself a taxi home which arrived almost immediately. This trip has been just what I needed. The cold autumn, winter and spring months are torturous but they’re made even more so by the fact that I constantly tell myself that the summer will be amazing and more than make for it…then it isn’t and it doesn’t. Say I live to be 75 that means I’m doomed to suffer through the miserable lead up to summer and then the crushing disappointment of summer 40 more times and I simply won’t do it. Once every three or four months I’m going to start booking a week long trip away to the Canary Islands as a reward for plowing through and enduring another shitty season.

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k3rm1e · 3 years

Text

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #nihachu x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #tommyinnit x reader #badboyhalo x reader #skeppy x reader #eret x reader #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #kermie's headcanons #kermie spent so long on this and is dying

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deceitfuldevil · 3 years

Text

Truth Serum

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: While working with Tony and Bruce in the lab you accidentally drink some very experimental truth serum, leading to some unwanted confessions with your coworkers.

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing, lots of dialogue, barely proofread, etc.

Word Count: 1.7K

—

You were busy working with Tony and Bruce in the lab and jokingly Tony placed his latest concoction next to your drink but you didn’t realize until it was too late and you drank Bruce’s experimental truth serum.

“Jesus Tony can you turn down that obnoxious music? I’m so sick of that stupid 70s rock music you’re always playing.”

Tony stopped what he was doing are looked over at you in shock.

“L/n, what the hell are you talking about? You told me you loved my music.”

“Well I lied, I lie to you a lot actually.” You looked up eyes blown wide with dear as you covered your mouth after saying that.

“I did NOT mean to say that.”

“Y/n… did you just take a sip of that beaker Tony so stupidly placed right next to your drink?” Bruce asked pinching the small space in between his eyebrows

You looked down as remorse filled your gut, noticing a small dribble of blue liquid slowly falling down the side of the beaker you obviously just took a drink from. Your eyes life to meet Bruce’s as you slowly nodded a small yes.

“Well, no thanks to Tony now we get to find out if my very experimental truth serum actually works.”

“TRUTH SERUM?!” You shouted, the last thing you wanted was for your team to have unrestricted access to your secrets.

“No thanks to me? Are you kidding Banner? This might be the most fun we have with Y/n all year!” Tony said with a cheeky grin

Your groaned and let your head fall onto the desk you were sitting at. “How long will this last?” You asked muffled

“Best case scenario for you? It could wear off within the next 30 minutes. Worst case scenario? You could be highly responsive and overly truthful for the two days.”

Tony broke out with a loud cackle as he got up from his desk and exited the lab “Good luck kid!”

“And theres no antidote?” You pleaded

“Sorry, but we were barely in the trial phases of creating this and we don’t try to make an antidote unless we know for sure that it works.”

“So how the hell am I supposed to deal with this in the meantime?”

“My best advice? Lock yourself away in your quarters for the next day or so to avoid saying anything unsavory to the rest of the team. Because I don’t have a doubt in my mind Tony left to go and tell the whole team about your little predicament.”

But before you could reply Sam, Rhodey, and Bucky all came running into the lab practically running over each other.

“Okay, I’ve wanted wanted to know. How do you feel really about Redwing?” Sam asked pushing Rhodey and Bucky aside.

“I think you should find a girlfriend so you stop obsessing over a high tech piece of metal.” You said with an unholy amount of sass, already sick of this treatment. Bucky burst out laughing but you sent a pissed off glare his way.

“Don’t think you’re safe either beefcake. You’re 106 years old and still can’t take a joke, not to mention that you’re forgetful as fuck. I mean who the hell just forgets that they have a vibrium arm? I’m not even going to get started on that staring problem you have that you think is so intimidating.” You snapped, shutting everyone in the room up. Before leaving you locked eyes with Rhodey.

“Oh hi Ego Machine! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. I mean who could when you tell that story of how you dropped a tank at the generals feet every single party? I mean, BOOM were you looking to be interesting?”

After shutting every one in that room down you stormed out and locked yourself in your room. You really could tell if you had taken truth serum or just a liquid curse. You never left your room for the rest of the night, not wanting to risk dinner with the team. But you woke up around 5:30 in the morning to. Very strong feeling of hunger, and prayed no one else would be up this early as you snaked down into the kitchen. You walked past Wanda sleeping quietly on the couch as Vision floated peacefully in the corner.

“Creepy motherfucker…” you whispered as you stepped into the kitchen

“What was that you said about my husband?” Wanda said, suddenly on the other side of the counter looking at you with a tilted head. You jumped almost spilling your cereal

“Jesus Christ Wanda! A warning!” You said clutching your head with one hand and the cereal box with the other. But she only looked at you and smiled mischievously

“You can ask anything you want but you’re not allowed to be upset by the answer” you stated plaining, pouring some milk into your bowl.

“Are you talking about the truth serum you took yesterday?” Wanda asked, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, it might not wear off for another 24 hours. Everyones been dying to find how I ‘really’ feel about them since Tony ran his big mouth and told everyone about this stupid serum I drank.”

“You do remember I can read minds, right? I always know when someone’s telling the truth or lying, I just don’t always call them on it.”

“Right.” You said quietly as you stuffed your face with cereal so you could go back to your quarters as soon as possible.

You sat alone in your room unbothered for the next few hours, until you heard a rock at your door.

“Don’t come in! Go away!” You shouted turning the page of your book assuming whoever was on the other side of your door would kindly fuck off. But as a tall man with a mop of silver hair entered your room you sighed dramatically and threw your book at him, missing spectacularly.

“I could’ve sworn I said to NOT come in.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the ever so muscular man making his way over to your bed.

“And when’s the last time I took orders from you?” Pietro said with a smile.

“You never take orders from anyone, I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked off the team yet honestly.” You spat, bitter that he wasn’t respecting your wishes to be left alone. A pit of nerves also started to grow in your stomach the closer he came to you knowing how you really felt about him, and that if he asked there’d be nothing stopping you from telling him the truth.

“Ah, you wound me dragâ.” Pietro says as he mockingly clasps his hands over his heart as if you’d shot him. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“The team tells me you’ve become somewhat of a bitch since yesterday, is that true?” He asked, sitting down at the foot of your bed.

“I’m not a bitch, Tony just tricked me into drinking some of Banner’s experimental truth serum. But you already knew that didn’t you? Either way, spoiler alert. The stupid serum works and probably won’t wear off for another 12 hours. Besides, I’m only a bitch to the team members I don’t like.” Your eyes widened realizing what you just admitted to Pietro

“I suppose that’s true, Wanda did tell me you weren’t too bad when she ran into you this morning.” Pietro said scooting up next to you in bed, normally you’d tell him to fuck off before he got too close so he would know how much you loved being in his arms but when he asked

“Is this okay?” As he stretched his arms over your shoulders pulling you into his chest

“Yeah, I love it when you hold me. Or just touch me in general, always makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.” The confession just spilled right out of your mouth, causing you to once again to clasp a hand over your lips to prevent you from saying anything else.

Pietro looked down at you with a shocked eyes but a smug smile, deciding to push his luck he asked “Then why do you always push me away and tell me to fuck off anytime I hug you?”

“Becwagh wi dwomt vhmnf to nmfh…” you said, keeping your hand over your mouth to muffle your answer. Pietro shook his head light at you as he took your hand off your lips and held it, gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb

“What was that darling?” He said as he cobalt blue eyes poured into yours. It’s like he already knew how you felt but just needed to hear you say it to confirm his suspicions. Months of pinning after you, and now here was his chance. He had no other choice but to act on it. You swallowed the last bit of pride and fear held in your chest and said

“Because I don’t want you to know how I really feel about you.” The last of your walls came crashing down as you smiled gently at the handsome man before you, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his faced inched closer to yours.

“And how do you feel about me dragosté?”

“Like you’re the only person in the world I could ever fall in love with.” That was all Pietro needed to push aside his ego hearing how you really felt about him as he leaned down and closed the gap in between the two of you pressing his soft lips to yours. Moving gently with you as his lips slotted perfectly over yours, you breathe in his musky scent as you ran your hand across his chest pulling him closer to you. Sadly it wasn’t long before you both ran out of air and had to pull away

“So how do you feel now?” Pietro asked with a cheeky grin plastered on his lovestruck face

“Like I could kiss your stupid face all day.” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for a much more heated kiss.

The rest of your afternoon and week into the evening was spent in Pietros arms sharing soft kisses and fleeting touches. Although admittedly he was sad when the truth serum wore off and he couldn’t ask you any and everything under the sun about how you felt about him.

But you’d end up showing him how you felt in other ways later on ;)

—

A/N

Ahhh here’s my 4th post that will be published while I’m away at camp! Found this little bit in my notes as well and just fleshed it out enough to post! Hope this was enjoyable!

Much Love,

—Skyler

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Peppermint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: when you wear peppermint chapstick, you discover Peter hates peppermint

Masterlist

It started as an ordinary day.

You saw Peter and Ned in the dining hall between classes and went to join them like you normally did.

“Hi.” Peter smiled up at you from his seat when he saw you approaching.

“Hi, Petey.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders before moving to kiss him. He craned his neck to kiss you back but pulled away sooner than usually.

It only went downhill from there.

You looked at him curiously and sat down, wondering why he stopped kissing you so fast.

“Oh.” He grimaced as he puckered his lips.

“What?” You looked between him and Ned, hoping someone had answers.

“You’ve made a bold choice today.” Peter nodded as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand.

“What?” You laughed in surprised.

“A lot of bold flavors going on.” He continued, taking out a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“What is he talking about?” You asked Ned when Peter gave you no answers.

“Oh, I see.” Ned realized. “Is your chapstick spearmint?”

“No, I think it’s-“

“Peppermint.” Peter cut you off with a sour face. “It’s peppermint.”

“Am I missing something?” Your eyes shifted between the boys, still extremely confused.

“Peter hates peppermint.” Ned told you.

“You do?” You laughed and looked at your boyfriend. “Why?”

“It’s so gross. Oh my God, it’s still on me.” Peter gagged as he wiped his lips again.

“What is your problem?” You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior. “You don’t want to be minty fresh?”

“Thats not minty fresh. That’s disgusting.” He shook his head and rubbed his face. “Ew, my hands smell like it now.”

“How did I not know you hate peppermint?” You sat back in your chair as you wondered out loud. “Is this why you threw up my my gingerbread house party last year?”

“Yes.” Peter answered. “And I guess I never told you because I assumed you would know I hate the most putrid smell on earth.”

“Peppermint is not putrid.” You laughed again, still not taking this seriously. “It’s sweet and minty.”

“No.” Peter shook his head repeatedly. “Evil spawn.”

“No, not evil spawn.” You insisted. “It’s a nice scent.”

“Princess, you know I hate to disagree with you, but I’m pretty sure Satan keeps a an diffuser with peppermint essential oil on at all times in hell.” Peter told you as he squeezed your hand.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You teased. “It’s just chapstick.”

You leaned in to kiss him again and he put his hand on your face to push you away.

“No. I can’t.” He gagged. “It’s too gross.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw, not believing he just pushed you away. You realized that this wasn’t a joke to him and he actually hated peppermint.

“Fine.” You shrugged. “Then I just won’t kiss you today.”

Peter said nothing to this and instead nodded, as if he agreed. You raised an eyebrow, expecting him to object like he usually did if you said you weren’t going to kiss him. Peter was a very affection person, so you often teased him by threatening to withhold affection. You looked at Ned to see if he was seeing what you were seeing, and Ned looked scared.

“Oh No.” He gulped. “This isn’t good.”

“Peter!” You softly hit his arm, making him jump.

“What?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to protest!” You told him. “I’m your girlfriend and I just told you I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“And I’m being a good boyfriend and supporting your idea.” He smiled sweetly at you and rubbed your back. You scoffed and looked at Ned for help, but he offered none.

“School is the only place we can kiss each other anytime we want.” You reminded him. “You know Avengers are still banned from dating at the tower. Are you seriously not going to kiss me because of my chapstick?”

“It’s not because of your chapstick.” Peter told you. “It’s because of the scent of your chapstick.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to play this?” You asked Peter, giving him a chance to change his mind.

“Um…yes?” He said weakly, now worried about your sudden mood change.

“Fine.” You shrugged and stood up. “Then I’ll see you at the tower.”

“You’re not eating with us?” He asked, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“No.” You gave him a tight smile. “Clearly and me and my lips are not welcome here.”

You turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Peter and Ned alone.

“Bye!” Peter called after you. “I love you!”

“That went well for you.” Ned chuckled once you were out of sight.

“You don’t think she’s actually mad at me, is she?” Peter wondered.

“No.” MJ said, making Peter and Ned jump. “She’s not mad at you. She’s upset that you didn’t want to kiss her.”

“How long have you been listening?” Ned asked as he looked up at her.

“Since Ned said Senora Chavez had a nice ass.” MJ stated as she sat down next to Ned. “Listen, I know Y/n better than anyone-“

“Uh, I disagree.” Peter cut in. “Hi, Y/n’s boyfriends, nice to meet you.”

“Cute.” MJ deadpanned. “Best friend trumps boyfriend. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s not true.” Peter snorted. “Is it?”

“No.” Ned answered. “But I also don’t know.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you won’t win this.” MJ continued. “You have to get over your little peppermint tantrum or she won’t kiss you. Simple as that.”

“She can kiss me as long as she’s not wearing peppermint chapstick.” Peter shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with what had happened.

“She’s not gonna stop wearing peppermint chapstick, dummy.” MJ flicked him on the side of the head. “You just started a fight.”

“What? That wasn’t a fight.” Peter insisted.

“It’s a silent fight.” MJ explained. “She’s not gonna say anything about it and wait for you to apologize. If you don’t, then it becomes a real fight.”

“Apologize for what? For hating the worst smell in the world?” Peter scoffed.

“For being a diva and calling her gross.” MJ said like it was obvious.

“I didn’t call her gross.” Peter corrected. “I called her choices gross.”

“And that’s where you fucked up.” MJ made a face. “It’s fine if you don’t want my help, but you’re gonna lose your girlfriend over it.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Peter laughed in dismissal. “I am not going to lose Y/n over something as meaningless as peppermint chapstick.”

“See for yourself.” MJ shrugged and got up. “Later losers.”

Peter sat in silence for a moment as he thought about what MJ had said. You did seem upset when you left, so MJ might be right.

“You don’t think…” Peter began, and Ned knew where it was going.

“No.” Ned assured him. “But also I don’t know.”

“I’m sure we’re fine.” Peter said to convince himself. “It’s just chapstick.”

“Yeah.” Ned agreed. “Unless it’s not.”

“Yeah.” Peter worried. “Unless it’s not.”

Peter couldn’t keep the interaction off his mind all day. He could barely focus in the lab later that day when Tony had to take of you writing down chemical reactions he needed in a future experiment. If you were mad, you didn’t let on. But you also didn’t give Peter the impression that everything was fine. After ten minutes of writing in silence, he poked you with his pen.

“Psst.” He whispered.

“What?” You whispered back.

“You look pretty today.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “Then kiss me.”

Peter’s face fell, cheeky smile long gone.

“I can’t.” He whispered again.

“And why’s that?” You stopped writing to give him your full attention. Peter looked up as he thought of a good enough lie to tell you.

“I’m waiting for marriage.” He answered finally, making you nod your head.

“Were you waiting for marriage when we had sex last week?” You kept your tone neutral.

“I temporarily stopped waiting and I have now resumed.” He corrected himself.

“You’re an imbecile.” You spoke at full volume now, earning a glance from Tony.

“I hate peppermint!” Peter whined. “It’s gross!”

“Dumb and Dumber.” Tony called to you. “Is everything okay over there?”

“Yes, sir.” Peter calmed down. “Sorry, sir.”

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You laughed humorlessly as you started writing again.

“Princess.” Peter softened his voice and stroked your hair. “Just take it off and we can go back to normal.”

“I don’t want to take it off.” You shrugged. “In fact, I think I need some more.”

“Don’t.” Peter deadpanned as you reached into your pocket and took out your chapstick. You smiled sweetly at him before generously lathering the chapstick on your lips.

“Ew!” Peter began to dry heave and got out of his chair. “I’m gonna barf.”

“All right. That’s enough.” Tony sighed and stopped working. “Peter, hit the showers or something. I need you out of here.”

“Gladly.” Peter said as he glared at you.

“Gladly?” You raised an eyebrow. “And you said I was bold?”

“Y/n. You too. Out now.” Tony commanded so you gathered your things. You started putting on chapstick again, maintaining eye contact with Peter as you did it. He gagged before clutched your stomach while pinching his nose. You blew him a minty kiss before walking out of the lab with Peter following behind you.

“Are you happy now? Are you pleased as punch, Parker?” You spat as he continued walking. “Mr. Stark probably thinks we’re crazy now. Or even better, he’s gonna figure out that we’re together.”

Peter ignored you and kept walking, not wanting to talk when he was angry.

“You know what?” You continued. “He’s probably right. Since only crazy people would hate the luscious, beautiful smell of peppermint.”

Peter suddenly turned around and grabbed you, rubbing his hands over your lips to wipe off the chapstick.

“How dare you?” You gasped. “You ghoul!”

“You’re the ghoul!” He shouted back. “Peppermint is a sin!”

Steve and Nat, who were sitting in the living room and watching this unfold, exchanged a look.

“It is not!” You shouted. “You’re just being dramatic!”

“I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “This calls for drama. I hate it so much.”

“How much?” You asked as you slathered it on again. “How much do you hate it?”

“Please.” He covered his mouth and gagged. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You need to get over this. It’s just a flavor.” You insisted.

“Demon flavor.” He shot back, hunched over with his hands in his knees and coughing.

“This is super weird, right?” Steve whispered to Nat.

“Yeah.” She nodded as she watched the scene in front of her with a disgusted look. “I think we should go.”

You watched Steve and Nat leave the room, feeling embarrassed with the strange looks they gave you. No one actually knew you and Peter were together, so you could only imagine what they were thinking. You looked back at Peter and saw that he was still gagging, bringing you to a decision.

“Fine, Peter.” You sighed and rubbed your mouth on the back of your hand. “I wiped it off. Are you okay?”

You crouched beside him and rubbed his back, worried he was actually going to puke. He slowly stood up and blew out a breath before nodding.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” He frowned at you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You said as you rubbed his shoulders. “We shouldn’t be yelling at each other in the hallway. Someone’s either gonna realize we’re dating or think we’re unstable.”

“Yeah. We do look a bit ridiculous.” He laughed shyly as he looked around.

“Yeah.” You chuckled as wrapped your arms around his neck. “And I’m sorry about the chapstick. I didn’t know you didn’t like it.”

“It’s my fault.” He insisted. “I should have told you. And I definitely shouldn’t have gotten that upset.”

“Maybe not.” You agreed. “But I should not have taunted you after I knew you hated it. That was mean.”

“Just a little.” He pinched his fingers together. “Are we okay now?”

“We’re okay. I love you, Petey.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek, happy to have resolved it.

“I love you too, princess.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you. Before your lips could touch, he sharply pulled away.

“Oh no.” He said gravely.

“What?”

“I smell it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to freak out.

“It?” You wondered.

“Your chapstick.” He admitted, making your groan. “I can smell it from here.”

“I wiped it off.” You whined, pulling your arms away from him.

“The smell.” He gagged. “It lingered. I cant kiss you. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” You out your hands on your hips and stared at him.

“Yes.” He answered. “I’m sorry. Can we make up but not kiss?”

“You’re not gonna kiss me because of a lingering smell of peppermint?” You said as more than a statement than a question.

“This is true, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Then I’ll see you later, Parker.” You shook your head and walked away from him. Peter sighed sadly as he watched you walk away, knowing that wasn’t how he wanted to end things.

“What was that about?” Sam asked as he wandered into the hallway. He overhead the fight from the kitchen and arrived in time to watch you leaving.

“Um.” Peter thought of a way to explain what just happened. “We had a little fight.”

“About what?” He pressed.

“Y/n is wearing peppermint chapstick today.” Peter answered honestly.

“And that concerns you because…?” Sam questioned.

“I don’t like the scent of peppermint.” Peter scoffed. “Does that make me a monster?”

“So what?” Sam snorted. “It’s not like you’re kissing her.”

Peter turned his face to the side so Sam wouldn’t see his inability to keep a secret.

“Hm.” Peter nodded stiffly. “Yes. It is not like I am kissing her. That was be absurd.”

“Right.” Sam said skeptically. “Because Avengers aren’t allowed to date each other. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Peter nodded too many times. “We’re not dating. I just hate peppermint.”

“For arguments sake, let’s say you were dating.” Sam began. “Because everyone knows that you are but no one cares enough to report you.”

“What?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. We’re not dating.”

“Yeah. And I’m white.” Sam humored him. “If you were dating and fighting over the flavor of her chapstick, I’d give you one piece of advice.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“Get over it and go kiss your girlfriend.” Sam sighed. “It’s just a flavor, but she’s not just a girl. Don’t risk a good thing over a bad scent.”

“Wow.” Peter soaked it in. “That’s pretty good advice. Thanks Sam. I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” Sam told him. “But I like Y/n. And I don’t want to live in this tower while you two are going through a messy breakup. So make up or shut up. Your choice.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded confidently. “I know what I have to do.”

Peter went back to his room and began to brainstorm ways to make it up to you. Before he could put his plans into motion, he heard a knock at his door.

“Come in”. He called from his bed.

“Hey, Petey.” You spoke timidly as you opened his door. You weren’t sure if he was mad at you or not, and he was wondering the same thing about you.

“Hey, princess.” Peter smiled softly. “It’s nice to see you. I’m glad you came to see me.”

“I missed you.” You smiled back as you sat on his bed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just taking my daily vitamins.” Peter said as he laid his gummies out. You furrowed your eyebrows and moved his hand to see what his vitamins looked like.

“These are fruit snacks.” You told him as you held up a bright orange gummy.

“I’m so fragile right now.” Peter whispered before downing his fruit snacks in one go. You chuckled a little at your boyfriends antics and scooted closer to him.

“Talk to me about it.” You said as you rubbed his arm.

“I feel as though our relationship is not in mint condition.” Peter said without looking up at you. You caught on to his pun and let out a groan.

“Peter.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled weakly. “You look beautiful.”

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically.

“Giving you a compli-mint.” He fed you another pun.

“You don’t have to do this.” You assured him. “I caved. I’m wearing cherry chapstick.”

“You are?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah. I threw the other one out.” You shrugged. “I don’t even like the smell of it. It was just the first one I grabbed this morning.”

“You don’t like the smell either?”

“It’s a little harsh on my nose.” You scrunched your nose. “Plus, it burns my lips.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Peter smiled wickedly.

“What does this mean?” You laughed.

“We are mint to be.” He said with a cheeky smile.

“Stop.” You whined. “The fight is over. No more puns.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I’m sorry I wouldn’t kiss you all day.”

“I’m sorry I yelled too.” You frowned and cupped his chin. “You can make up for it by kissing me now.”

Peter nodded happily and leaned in to kiss you, giving you a real kiss this time. He pulled away and kept his lips puckered, realizing he was tricked.

“You’re wearing peppermint chapstick.” He said matter of factly.

“Yep.” You smiled. “And you didn’t die, vomit, or burst into flames.”

“Hm.” Peter realized you were right. “It stings my lips a little. I kinda like it.”

“See? It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad.” Peter corrected. “It’s just not as bad as I thought. Maybe I was a little too dramatic.”

“Maybe?” You teased.

“Fine.” Peter agreed. “But you knew I was dramatic before you started dating me. If anything, this is all your fault.”

“Why don’t we blame this on the entire concept of peppermint of call it a night?” You suggested and you laid down on his bed. Peter laid down beside you and wrapped his arm around you, still rubbing his lips together.

“You know what, princess? That sounds like a great idea.”

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years

Text

[NSFW] Albedo: Dealing with a brat s/o HCs - GN Reader

Remember when I just said that I think all genshin men are bottoms? I lied because Albedo is the one character where I’m like, yeah you know what? This guy can wreck me. He just hits so different. That smug face he gives you? I’m on my knees already. Lucky, lucky. Holy shit, the - fuck - my brain is going back into bark mode. You know what? Fuck it. Let’s write this.

[Masterlist]

Please see this post on [NSFW]

I will try and write this as gn reader but let me know if I slipped up.

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

I don’t know if people are comfy with NSFW tags but let me know if you would like to be added. This is my first NSFW post so I apologize in advance if it’s garbage. I’m going to go hide as soon as I post this. I’ll see you all tomorrow.

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Warning: Albedo is mean but it’s consensual. Please no minors tyvm.

Tags: Dry humping, uncaring Albedo that suddenly turns feral, exhibition, sadist Albedo, crying, minor name-calling, rough oral/sex, boot grinding, overstimulation, unprotected sex [lmk if I missed anything].

[NSFW] Albedo: Dealing with a brat s/o HCs - GN Reader

Albedo is indifferent to your desires, he has almost no care for pleasure, so he spends most of his time and energy on his work. While it saddens you that you’re his second priority during the weeks he get’s interested in something, that doesn’t deter you from your own lust. But it’s so embarrassing trying to rile him up, only to have him just gives you a blank stare and tells you to go and leave him alone. He’ll deal with you later. But if you bother him enough, he’ll sit you on his lap and look at you expectantly. Leaning back in his chair and gesturing for you to go on. If you’re too much of a horny puppy that craves his attention then go. You have his leg so be quiet and let him work.

He doesn’t even bother to lock the door so Sucrose will more often then not accidently walks in during your intimate moments. She’s always so embarrassed and stutters as she tries to cover her eyes with her hands as you attempt to have some modesty but Albedo will grind his knee back into you and force you to continue. You wanted this so finish. The rough texture of his boots scraps against you that you have to bite your lip raw from embarrassing you and Sucrose further. He appears so bored as he moves your hips for you as he asks for Sucrose’s report. You’re desperately trying to contain your whimpers to try and save your reputation with the quiet alchemist but the humiliation and the grip Albedo has on your hips, to the point of bruises, is too much for you. You bury your face into his neck to muffle your moans as you climax all over his leg and ruin his pants. While you’re still panting and recovering from your high, Albedo is reading his assistant’s report before dismissing Sucrose. Much to her happiness as she scurries away red-faced.

When he does feel like putting in the bare minimum amount of effort, it doesn’t matter to him if you cum or not. He’ll usually try and satisfy you since he’ll get annoyed if you start crying and begging like a baby. Even when you’re whining under him, he has the most unemotional face even if he’s absolutely wrecking you. He almost looks annoyed and his eyes start to wander to his papers and his focus shifts to them. It both hurts you deeply but makes you feel so hot inside when he’s pounding into you while his mind is in a separate universe of alchemist notes.

Above all, Albedo is mean. Hard and simple. He might have a big patience for his work but when it comes to people, especially a brat like you that won’t leave him alone, if you happen to fuck up he’ll take it out on you. Whether you cum or not isn’t his problem anymore and he’ll leave you crying once he’s done. He does get a small piece of sick pleasure out of seeing your tears fall down as you beg for him to help you but he adjusts his glove, give you a sweet pet to behave puppy, and leaves you.

While Albedo is mean, but he’s never intentionally rough. He’s simply too lazy to act that way. Unless you absolutely piss him off. When his thread is really running thin and you pick today of all days to be such a brat that won’t shut up with your incessant whining that he pushes you down on your knees, pry’s your mouth open, and tells you to stick your tongue out. Not to move an inch or else he’s leaving you by yourself again for the next week. He pets your head and smiles gently which leads you into a sweet sense of comfort before he’s yanking your head forward to take his entire cock. Even when you’re gagging and crying, clawing at his boots to try and find purchase, he just forces you down further.

There’s something feral in the look he gives you that has you shaken but it absolutely burns you from the inside. You try to subtly reach to try and relieve the constricting feeling of your clothes but Albedo kicks your hand away. There’s a smug grin on his face as he stares down at your disappointed yet love-stricken eyes. Full of affection that it both disgusts him and brings him some sort of sick joy. He nudges your thighs apart as he places his boot right between your legs and waits. If you want to get off then you’ll have to do all the work. You’re sniffling in shame but with the heavy press of his cock on your tongue, the heady eyes that Albedo gives you, it’s starting to cloud your mind as you start grinding on his boot.

It’s only after a few thrusts before Albedo grows bored and yanks your mouth off. Your tongue is still out with a string of saliva connecting it to his cock which makes you lean forward and like the remaining spit off, looking up at him with your half-lidded eyes, that he curses under his breath and kicks you in the chest to make you lie down. You huff out a laugh under his boot as you lick your lips and stick your tongue out at Albedo. You can see it as something primal in him surfaces as he reaches over and grabs your tongue, shoves his fingers into the back of your throat, before ripping your pants apart and slamming his fingers into your hole. You’re gasping as he does the bare minimum prep before he’s fiddling with his own belt. Albedo clicks his tongue disapprovingly when you try and buck your hips back on his fingers before he lines himself with your hole and thrust's all the way in.

You’re crying and squirming away when he forces himself in too quickly, the stretch is burning but it feels so good. The hazy feeling starts to overtake your mind as the pain turns into pleasure but it’s too much. You’re going to break if he keeps fucking you this way. Even as you try and run away, Albedo just grips your wrists and pulls you back on him. You were so invested in bothering him and now you want to run away? You’re gasping as tears cling to your eyelashes as you squeeze around him as your tongue lolls out. You really are panting like a puppy now, Albedo amuses. He gives you a small moment to get your bearings before he goes feral. It’s the one moment where he feels alive. That he want’s to absolutely destroy you. As he pounds your sweet spot your entire body is going into overdrive, desperately clawing your fingers into the ground as you try and find purchase on his brutal assault.

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling all over his floor at this point but you can’t bring yourself to care when you’re buzzing in bliss. Albedo almost smiles cruelly when he’s watching you cry and orgasm at the same time, even when you’re mid-orgasm, he just keeps going. It’s only when you hear him growl as he sinks his nails into your skin to add to the bruises already there do you feel his seed spill into you. You’re hiccupping through your thank you’s as he slowly pulls out and watches his cum slip out of your hole. It stirs something deep inside him that he doesn’t like and uses his fingers to push it back in forcefully even has you whimper at how sensitive you are.

Albedo laughs under his breath at the dumb look you have on but he quickly catches himself. He breaths a sigh as he relaxes his body and runs his hand over the small bump on your stomach from his cum. Feels the violent twitches in your body as you try and reach for him in some sort of pitiful attempt in comfort but he simply pushes himself off and fixes his clothing until he looks presentable.

When he asks if you’ve had enough you grin smugly back, your lips bitten raw and red, and bark. He adores you.

#albedo smut #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin impact #albedo x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin albedo #genshin impact albedo #albedo #genshin albedo x reader #albedo headcanons

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning.

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures.

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity?

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school.

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you.

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green.

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile.

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position.

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I��m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet.

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered.

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store!

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year.

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures.

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut.

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath.

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!”

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk.

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that.

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

“That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove.

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again.

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly.

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine.

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him.

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you.

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises.

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight.

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that.

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food.

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn.

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times.

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile.

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance.

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that.

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later.

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned.

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

“WHAT?!”

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies.

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today.

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited.

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders.

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it.

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now.

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator.

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way.

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine.

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck.

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing.

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in.

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours.

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control.

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars.

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips.

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan.

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too.

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him.

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

bonus!

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 20 - Final Warning [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, lovers to enemies, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Everyone has a past.

Series Masterlist

Not that you had ever been in a situation where you wanted to come clean to a target and blow your own cover, but you could easily say that this was one of the hardest things you had ever been through.

And considering your career, you had been through a lot.

You had no idea how to even begin the conversation, and you were pretty sure that it would completely ruin every chance of happiness you would have with him, every chance of a future together but—

You had to keep him safe. You owed him that much.

Considering your whole relationship had been nothing but a lie.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called and you looked up, still holding the empty milkshake container.

“Yes?”

“Your boyfriend is here with the Captain America,” Tara winked at you, “Is he single?”

“Sam?”

“No Y/N, I’m trying to steal your man but letting you know beforehand. Yes, Sam!”

“Um—“ you tried to pull your thoughts together, “I’m not sure, I can ask.”

“Don’t make it obvious though,” she pointed at you and walked away. You let out a sigh, looking down at the empty container, then fixed your apron and walked out of the kitchen into the main area. You could feel the warmth in your stomach as soon as you saw Bucky and Sam in one of the booths, and you went under the counter to approach them.

“Hi darling.”

“Hey,” you pecked him on the lips and sat beside him, “Hi Sam.”

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted you as Bucky entwined his fingers with yours, “Anyways, as I was saying. I can look into her but unless you give me more information, we’ll hit a dead end.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked between them and Bucky thought for a moment.

“Maybe Sharon might help.”

“I mean she can try—“

“Who are you talking about?” you asked and Sam grinned.

“Bucky’s spy friend.”

“She’s not my friend,” he said almost instantly and your stomach dropped.

“O-oh?”

“I just want to learn who she works for,” he said, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” you managed to ask and Bucky shifted his weight like he was uncomfortable.

“In case we need it.”

“But why would you need it?”

To that, he looked like he had no answer and Sam cleared his throat, grabbing his phone.

“Well, I’d better talk to Sharon,” he said, standing up from his seat, “To see what we can find. I’ll see you guys later.”

With that, he walked out of the shop and you turned to Bucky, your brows raised.

“So,” you said, “What’s happening?”

“No what you’re thinking right now,” he said quickly, “It’s just… I ran into her. Again.”

You actually wanted to find out how much information he would give you, so you decided to push.

“Oh? I didn’t know you went on a mission.”

“I didn’t, she broke into my house.”

You blinked a couple of times, staring at him as if you were confused. “I’m sorry?”

“I have no idea how she knows where I live, but—“

“She was in your apartment.”

“For like five minutes,” he added, “And she….she told me something.”

If he kept this up, maybe you had a chance to convince him to leave the country for a while by using your cover even if you couldn’t convince him by being yourself.

“What?” you asked him and he paused for a moment, then shook his head.

“It’s not important.”

Fuck.

“It sounds like it is,” you tried again and he cleared his throat.

“Nah it’s just…. Usual secretive spy stuff.”

“But are you safe?” you insisted and he smiled, pressing your hand to his lips, his fingers still entwined with his.

“Of course darling.”

No. No you’re not safe.

You bit inside your cheek, trying to find something, anything to tip him off without blowing your cover but you came up empty except for one thing.

You had to tell him. You had no idea how you would do it, and you had no idea how he would react but you couldn’t—

You couldn’t just sit there and let them take him and blame him for things he quite possibly hadn’t done. Knowing the General, he would pull every trick in the game to convince your superiors that he was dangerous.

And Bucky was one of the very few people you knew who didn’t deserve that.

But how could you do it? You knew it would mean losing him, you were quite sure that he would never trust you again, nor would he ever want to see you again. Not only that, but if the General found out anything about you tipping him off, you would be killed, that was for sure.

As he always said, actions had consequences.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said with a chuckle, snapping you out of your thoughts, “I promise you, everything will be alright.”

For some reason, you were having a hard time believing it but you tried to smile, then leaned in to kiss him.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Of course it will.”

***

By the time you were done at work, you were way too tired but it had nothing to do with the goddamn milkshake shop. You half wished you could ask Keith or Chloe about what to do, but you decided you actually needed to come up with a plan before getting them involved.

If you were going to get them involved, you had to make sure they would be safe even if you wouldn’t be, but it didn’t mean the lack of plan at hand wasn’t making you panic. Even the mind blowing sex wasn’t enough to put you to sleep, not when you kept thinking about how it would end soon.

Either way, you were going to lose him.

The thought of it made the tears burn your eyes but you rolled over in bed and looked down at him. He looked so peaceful without nightmares torturing his sleep and you sniffled before leaning in to press your lips into his dark hair, inhaling his scent. He moved a little, letting out a content sigh and you pulled back to grab your dressing gown, then made your way to the kitchen as silently as possible. After grabbing the wine bottle, you went to the bathroom to get in the bathtub, the cold surface against your warm skin giving you goosebumps.

You were being so stupid. Even more stupid than a Victorian lady risking it all for dick.

You cussed under your breath and took a huge swig of the wine, leaning your head back, desperately trying to find an idea to help you get out of this thing unscathed.

Or not to break his heart in the process.

By the time you had finished the bottle, you were still clueless but alcohol was slowly taking away the panic pulsing through you. You kept your eyes on the wall, tracing the rim of the bottle and only when Bucky knocked on the door that you realized he was awake.

Wow, the spy in you would be so disappointed if it were any other time.

“Darling?”

“Hey,” you called out, “You can come in.”

He opened the door and his brows furrowed as soon as he saw you in the bathtub holding a wine bottle.

“Hey,” he said, “Everything alright?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, then nodded and looked up at him.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said and approached you to crouch down, “Nightmares?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, still holding the bottle tight, “What time is it?”

“3 a.m.”

You heaved a sigh and he reached out to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked softly and that made the burning in your eyes even worse, but you cleared your throat and shook your head.

“Did you know….” You trailed off, waving the empty bottle, “In some cultures people drink at funerals?”

“Nope,” he said, “I didn’t. Whose funeral is it then?”

“Mine I think.”

He tilted his head, stealing a look at the bottle before smiling at you softly. You were aware that he thought it was just the wine and nightmares speaking, and you were way too tired to let him know, to explain-

To lose whatever it was between you.

“You’re not dead, sweetheart.”

“Not yet,” you managed to say, and he took a deep breath.

“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice low as if the thought was too much for him to handle and you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Do you want to come back to bed?”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes.

“Okay,” Bucky said, “Is it okay if I stay here then?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, turning the bottle in your hands. His fingers caressed over your hair and the action was so soothing that for a moment you felt yourself getting lost in the feeling before you turned your head to look into his blue eyes.

“Do you think that—“ you paused for a moment, “Do you think we could have a happy ending?”

“A happy ending?” he repeated, confusion flashing over his features and you licked your lips.

“Yeah, do you think….Do you think we could have that house with the red door and the big garden and the treehouse?”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Absolutely. And if I’m remembering it correctly, I was told there would be a hammock between an apple tree and a peach tree.”

“And a dog.”

“And a dog,” he repeated, “And kids.”

You could swear your heart hurt.

“I’m going to tell you something but you’re not allowed to say it back,” you said, “Not…not yet anyway. Not right now.”

He tilted his head, “Okay. What is it?”

“…I think I’m in love with you,” you admitted, your heart beating like crazy as you wiped your eyes again. A light crossed his eyes but you couldn’t even decipher what it was, instead you reached out to hold his hand, leaning your head back again.

“Why am I not allowed to say it back?” he asked and a painful smile pulled at your lips.

“Just because,” you said, “And I’m—I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked and you opened your mouth, then the fear crashed down on you so you just shrugged your shoulders.

“Can we stay like this for tonight?”

He thought for a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss on your temple.

“Of course darling,” he said, “If that’s what you want, let’s stay like this.”

***

The next morning, you woke up with a clear decision in mind.

You had to tell Bucky and you had to get him out of the country before the General could lay a hand on him. You even had a speech in mind, but in the morning Bucky had an appointment with his psychiatrist so he had left early. You didn’t have much time anyway, you had to go to the base as well but it didn’t mean you were as calm as you would like to be.

You had to make sure not to make the General suspicious of you until Bucky was out but unfortunately, you hadn’t thought about your best friends.

Keith took one look at you when he saw you, then checked whether anyone was watching you before he placed his coffee cup on the desk and grabbed your wrist to pull you into the hallway.

“What happened?”

You crossed your arms and shrugged. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Something happened,” he said, “Tell me and I’ll help you fix it.”

“Keith-“

“Y/N, I know you better than you think I do,” he said through his teeth, “Is your cover blown? Is Barnes suspicious of something?”

You clenched your jaw, then shook your head.

“Then what is it?” he said, “Chloe says the mission will be over soon and you’ll probably become a handler, I thought you’d be—“

“That’s the problem,” you interrupted him, “The mission will be over soon.”

Keith shrugged, “Okay. So? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Apparently not.”

He pulled his brows together, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe Bucky doesn’t deserve to be dragged here and have shit pinned on him. Again.”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds before a look of realization crossed his eyes and he ran a hand over his face.

“You’re not serious.”

“Keith—“

“That guy’s dick game can’t be that good. If you’re willing to put your life in danger just because he’s good at sex, I promise you there are a bunch of people who can fu—“

“It’s not because of that.”

“Oh it’s not? Then what is this about?”

“It’s not about anything, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Y/N, if the General finds out you’ve gone soft—“

“I haven’t gone soft!”

“You know what happens to the spies who fall for their targets,” he whispered through his teeth, “No matter how much you want to—to put this behind you, to run away with him—“

“I’m not naïve,” you spat, “I know I’d never be able to run away. This is not a fairytale, I’m not going to walk off into the sunset with Bucky. He will never forgive me or want to be with me once he learns who I am.”

“Then?”

“It doesn’t mean he deserves this,” you said, “He tries to help people, and we will make people see him as dangerous.”

He shook his head, heaving a sigh.

“He’s a good person, Keith,” you said, “Unlike you and me, he’s a good person.”

“Y/N?”

You turned your head when you heard the General’s assistant calling out your name.

“Yes?”

“He’s ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you said and took a step but Keith grabbed you by the arm.

“Don’t tell him anything,” he whispered, “We’ll—we’ll figure something out, okay? Trust me, just don’t tell the General anything.”

You bit inside your cheek and nodded.

“We can talk about it later,” you said and walked to the General’s office. He was waiting for you behind his desk and looked up from the file when he heard you come in.

“Y/N,” he said, “Hello.”

“Sir,” you greeted him and sat down on the edge of the seat. “Hello.”

“I’ve been looking over your file,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips, “And I gotta tell you, it’s….it’s very impressive.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Of all the missions we’ve put you on…” he said, “You haven’t failed. Ever.”

You felt like throwing up, but managed to smile back.

“You’ve taught me well.”

He let out a chuckle. “I’d like to take all the credit, but you and I both know it wasn’t just me, Y/N. You have a talent.”

Talent for killing and using people.

“Your father would be proud of you.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, that familiar ache at your heart making you sit up straighter.

“Growing up without him was very difficult for you,” he said, “I know that. I tried to help as much as I could and trust me, you’re like a daughter to me but I also know that deep down you waited for him to come back. Always.”

You rolled your shoulders back, trying to keep your head high.

“I’m not waiting for him to come back.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not. He left me.”

He heaved a sigh and leaned in, his eyes locked into yours.

“I’m sorry you have to find out this way but your father didn’t leave you,” he said, making you frown. “The Winter Soldier killed him.”

Chapter 21

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky

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