#something something about deaths of heroes that never were.....

[knightyoomyoui]

You Don't Want None [+18]

ft. TWICE's Chaeyoung (x M Reader)

TYPE: Smut

WORD COUNT: 3964

TAGS: rough sex, submissive girlfriend, punishment, degradation

NOTE: This is heavily inspired from this picture of Chaeyoung above that gave me an idea to write this fic. She looks so freaking hot here, I admit.

DONATE OR REQUEST FOR COMMISSION HERE: https://ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui

DESCRIPTION: Bratty Chaeyoung disturbing her boyfriend during his game time despite his pleads of giving him space. When she cost him and his team the round, YN disciplines her with a rough lesson in favor to what she desires.

===OOO===

You were alone in your room playing Mobile Legends in your phone to spend your leisure time before you return back on studying for your final exam. The bedroom door opened, your girlfriend Chaeyoung peeked through the gap to check how you’re doing. Giving a quick glance at her, you saw her smile in which boosted your confidence more on playing.

“Hey, love.” You said while dapping your fingertips at the screen.

“What role you are?”

“Tank. I find Akai my new main these days.” You answered while still fixated on your phone.

“You? Doing the roaming? Never thought I would see or hear you with that.” Chaeyoung chuckled.

“You underestimate me too much. I’m all-rounder, you know?” You snickered and hissed.

She approaches you to watch your gameplay. It made sense while you’re so concentrated at the round since you’re always being the one who should necessary attend the clash spots, to support and defend the other heroes for being the toughest. “So what if I do? And please, not me. I’ve seen you struggle a lot on being in charge of mid lanes.”

“I still play the role though.”

“Yeah, but you suck at using mage heroes.” She saw you groan in annoyance as she roasts you. It made her laugh while you still try to focus on the game. A chat from your friend whom you play along with popped up, commanding you about something to do that might be an efficient part of the plan your team would receive.

“I remember the last time we played you were the first one who got killed in under a minute. I don’t think that’s what being all-rounder is about.” Chaeyoung mocked you. She was examining your face and the background they’re playing at the same time.

“Hey, don’t get mistaken that you’re better than me or something if that’s what you’re doing. You still haven’t accepted my one on one challenge yet.”

“Uh huh, I just don’t because I feel pity for you.” She teased you while she sneakily inserted some clingy girlfriend act on you by snaking her hands around your waist while she lays her head on your shoulder.

“Excuses. Chae, just said you’re afraid.”

“Me? Scared fighting you? If I remember correctly, I am the one who has a higher rank than you.” She looked at you unbelievably. You squinched your nose and grunted at another harsh truth she just spat. “That’s why, I prefer you should just keep on playing. Train yourself further, maybe if you win… I’ll accept the challenge. Deal?”

“If that’s what you want, sure.” You finally requited the gaze on her. As you return back on your phone, Chaeyoung has thought of an evil idea. Something that she’ll regret doing so but she just wants to see how cute you’ll react for this.

She lifted both of her legs and planted her butt above your lap as she sat. “Uhh, what are you doing?”, you asked mindlessly. “Nothing, just go along with them.” Chaeyoung feigned innocence. “I just wanna how you’re so eager to dominate me.”

You continued playing even though you along with your teammates are in a dangerous situation right now. With every deaths and mistake, you couldn’t help anymore but to be irritated and sigh stressfully. Chaeyoung looked at the screen, she devilishly smirked at the idea pushing her again to do it.

“You guys look like you’re about to lose now.” Chaeyoung said as she looks at the status of your side compared to the enemies. “Is that what you mean I should be threatened when you play like that?”

“Please, Chae stop distracting me for a moment.”, you said in a calm tone. She liked your gentle request, but bold ideas running in her mind that influences her to disobey you for now. She left your lap, fooling you for giving you some space but instead, she just sat rather behind you and cuddled at you like a koala. Her hands raised up to your pecs and began caressing it.

“Chae…” You warned her, your posture shuffling around her to remove her body. As the last turret in the mid lane was destroyed, you know this is gonna be a huge trouble as the base has a passageway now for the enemies to invade and end the match.

“I’m so boreddd~” Chaeyoung whined. She pressed her face at your nape.

“Can’t you do something else first? I just have to finish this, promise.”

“No, and stop doing that.” Chaeyoung muttered. “I hate being ignored.”

“But I’m in the middle of-”

“What? You guys are losing anyway?” She complained. Her instinct drove her to start kissing the exposed skin of your neck. Her hands returned around her, with the soles of her feet obviously becoming dangerously close at your crotch.

“ We’re still aiming for a comeback here.” Your lips straightened, body went stiff and hot along with your temper rising from your clingy girlfriend’s unnecessary actions.

She bit your neck and sucked it. You gritted your teeth and released a sigh. “Stop trying, YN. You’ll never beat me and I know you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that, okay! I have no interest to be in a competition with you right now. I already told you that I- oh shit.” He saw the message at the top saying that the enemies have slain the lord. Gather and retreat commands went popping aggressively on the screen.

“You said you’re a great player, right? So don’t mind me here. Even if you dare to leave me alone, I won’t. I want you right now.” You felt your cock stirred when Chaeyoung gripped and squeezed it. “And it seems you do as well.”

“It’s my hormones reacting, okay. Ofcourse, how can I fucking act normal if you’re here flirting at me?”

“Oh, just shut up.” Chaeyoung ain’t buying your lies to push your buttons. Your current frustrated mood is entertaining her with a little bit of pity for your struggle. She watched you try to lure away the enemies and the lord with your surviving teammates as she nibbled on your earlobe and toying at your growing bulge.

Your head is getting all loosened from everything that Chaeyoung is doing at you. She surely doing all of this on purpose, and she’s testing you. Deep inside, you admit that you cannot resist your hot girlfriend, but on the other hand, the bad timing of this is encouraging you for a payback that not only is well deserved, but in a thoughtful and harmless way for her.

“Chae- stop, I-I’m begging-”

The screen froze, halting the characters movements as both of you watched the high ground explode. A large message saying DEFEAT flashed, making Chaeyoung pause as well from her movements. She looked at you as you dropped the phone instantly on the bed.

“See, I told you. Better luck next time, I guess.” Chaeyoung nonchalantly said as you remained unmoved. Your breaking point was shattered and it just fuels the plan of getting back at her more with fury. Your knuckles clenched as you felt goosebumps and adrenaline inside while she kept on blabbering in your ear.

“Chaeyoung, this is your last chance to say sorry. Now.”

“And if I don’t?”

“What’s coming to you after, I swear you don’t want none of it.”

“Ooh wow, that really set me on the edge.” She mockingly expressed fear at you. “Looks like you still ain’t ready yet. I’d like to see you try-” Chaeyoung stopped at her words when she watched your star on the screen got decreased, resulting your rank as well to transition back from Legend I to Legend II.

“That’s it, COME HERE!” You had enough. You spun around, harshly grabbed Chaeyoung by the arm and pinned her on the bed.

“U-huh, w-what, you’re mad at me now?”

“More than you think.” You realized that Chaeyoung was wearing the new set of clothes you picked for her, confirming your thoughts. “You did all of that on purpose, don’t you? To prevent me from kicking your ass?”

“And if I say yes, what will you do?” Chaeyoung cooed. “Fuck me rather in the ass?”

“Is that a suggestion? Alright. I won’t hold back on you, you attention-seeking little bitch.” You pulled down her white shorts with force but not in your full limit, still avoiding to damage your beloved outfit of hers.

Her lower back with that inticing huge birth of evil tattoo along with her curvy ass is exposed. You lift it up and make it raised upwards. “I’ll make sure you’ll wish you never did that.

“Yes please, punish me however you want. Punish me for being a bad girl.” Chaeyoung’s submissive kink was activated. It thoroughly making more sense to you why she behaving strangely since earlier.

“Oh I will. You think I’ll let you pass for ruining my win streak.” You slapped her left cheek very hard. Chaeyoung winced at the pain, yet it leaves a satisfied smile on her lips.

“I’m trying to tell you that I don’t give a fuck if you’re better than me, yet you still wanted to make me look worse.” You slapped her again for the second time, on the right cheek. Chaeyoung gasped and whimpered again at the stinging pain. “I was instead trying to save my credit from being decreased.”

“Not only that, you made me look embarrassing to my friends.” A third spank was unleashed.

“You ruined my momentum.” Fourth spank.

“Pushed back my rank when I was supposed to advance!” Fifth.

“Don’t beg me for mercy tonight, because I won’t show you one.” Sixth. Her cheeks are now all red from the impacts of your palm. Chaeyoung is now burying her face on the cushion to muffle her screams and rub some tears of joy in her eyes.

“Fucking greedy slut, you deserve all of this.” Seventh. You saw her legs almost giving in.

“We haven’t even started yet, Chaeyoung. You should’ve made yourself prepared if you wanted this!” You pulled up her legs again and went for an eighth slap.

“I bet you’re happy now, not only getting what you wanted to see me being devastated at my loss, huh? Making fun of me for you own satisfaction, selfish bitch.” Ninth spank to both of the cheeks.

“Last one. I want you to scream, I want you to say sorry for what you did, you got me?” Chaeyoung nodded weakly. She felt her ass take the tenth and last whip on her rear. The amount of pain contained was poured out all through her voice, “SORRY!!! I’M SORRY IF I GOT IN BETWEEN OF YOUR GAME!!!”

“That’s cute.” You chuckled. “But too bad, I pleaded for you to stop, and you didn’t listen. Now, don’t blame me for doing the same. It won’t end here yet. We have a lot of time for me to teach you a lesson.”

You kneeled in front of her abused ass, spreaded it, and pushed your face in between. You squeezed her soft cheeks like dough as you kissed her pillowy flesh repeatedly. Chaeyoung is left mewling at your unexpected next move.

You slightly lowered to me the length of her pussy’s slit. “Good lord, it’s almost like a fucking fountain here. You really want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” You scooped some fluid dripping and slurped it. “Impatient whore..”

Without wasting more precious pre-cum of hers, you catched them all by gliding your tongue across her pussy dangerously slow. Back and forth it goes, Chaeyoung’s mouth contorts in different reactions at how good your oral performance in her wet pussy. You bit her clit and pecked a kiss on it before you let go.

You removed your shorts and underwear, revealing your cock that was woken up by Chaeyoung’s playful touches. “Since you’re so eager to get some of this cock, I’ll shove it right up in your fucking holes and fill it up untilyou turned into my personal cumdump. I bet you even want that to happen, right?.”

With a push, your cock went straight inside of Chaeyoung’s tight entrance, sliding it a bit faster until its full length is cupped by its walls. You decided to give this a build-up, establishing a slow rhythm at the start until her ass starts to ripple faster the more your poundings getting louder and stronger.

“U-ugh ugh ahm yes~” Chaeyoung’s voice cracking at every bumps she take from your crotch. You grabbed both of her wrists and tied them on her back for handle, making her hover above the bed as you fucked her rapidly without any permission of self-support.

“”Fucking take all of this, Chae!” You made her vibrate all over your cock, drilling her ass before letting go of her arm. You went slow for a second until Chaeyoung noticed her scalp is getting some pressure. Her head was pulled back, she shrieked as you used her hair this time as a handle while you continued fucking her. “Yeah there you go, work that ass for me. Nice and tight.”

Animalistic huffs and grunts can be heard from you, and Chaeyoung is loving how you’re dismantling her petite boy like a true man possessed with temptation and lust driven by seduction. “I’m gonna cum in that pretty ass of yours, tattoo princess. Exactly as what you need.”

Her insides were flooded with streaks of cum released from your tip while you give more pushes to ensure that your load will be stuck deep inside of her cavern. You slowly let go, Chaeyoung moaned at the slimy friction of your cock exiting her used asshole. Not only your head is stained with the remains of your cum, some started to drip out from her puckered hole.

“We’re far than settled, bitch. Don’t be snapping out on me now.” You flipped the hem of her croptop from behind as you saw her splayed put of the bed. Roughly spun her around, she was now facing you from below, her eyes flickering in exhaustion abd mouth gaped in shock.

You made out with her, lips and tongue dancing through your mouth within each other. Taking this as your short distraction, you pushed your huge cock again in her pussy, making her gasp loudly. Your arms stood on each sides of her head, trapping her into your own isolation of pleasure.

“You don’t how much I’m enjoying this look of you.” You said as you watched Chaeyoung’s face reacting lustfully to your strokes. “No more hints of smug now, huh? Who’s in control now, you pathetic bastard?”

“Is that all you’ve got?” Chaeyoung challenged you, showing arrogance despite in the midst of destruction. “I haven’t been satisfied yet.”

“Oh you just wait. I’ve held my patience for you even if its thin, but now, you’re just tempting me to leash out everything on you, like this.” You replied. Placing your arms on her neck, you deepened the hold and tightened her until she began choking on her breath beneath your fucking.

“Laugh now, you naughty brat! Come on!” The sounds of bed creaking and the skin slapping echoed around the room.

“F-fuck yesss, that’s it. Take my breath, make it yours!” Chaeyoung grips on your forearm like her life depends on it as her face starts to become pale, losing air slowly from your lock.

“Now it’s me enjoying how defeated you look.” You added more movement through your fucking, exploring her insides and searching for that g-spot. It didn’t last long as when Chaeyoung furiously taps on your wrists, she coughed and breathe heavily before moaning loudly in your arms.

“There! Fucking ravage me, I’m about to cum soon!”

She must’ve forgotten that her wishes and requests are completely invalid to you now. This is her karma she has to face. You ignored her pleads as you kept your cock plugged inside of her pussy.

You undressed her sports bra and threw it around in the room, you played with her small breasts while she looked at your confusedly. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“How does it feel now being ignored and sticking in to your silly antics?” You snickered at her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise before it was replaced with pleasure as she bit her lower lip when you start devouring her tits one after another.

You inserted your arms on her back and pulled her closer, her tits mashing on your face. You rubbed and licked every area of her breasts, ensuring they all covered with your spit. Chaeyoung arched her back to allow you claiming them all by yourself.

You removed your arms shortly to lock her arms before you returned it around her, relocating your arms this time to the back of her head. She was now spreaded out before you planted her back at the bed and bent her in half like a seashell. That’s when you decided to pick up the pace by fucking her again ruthlessly.

Chaeyoung is now saying broken words, unrecognizable rounds or whatever it is, a fact that she is now spiraled downward from your rough treatment. You sniffed the smell of her sweaty yet fragrant neck as you fuck her relentlessly, her feet waving around in the end as you do so. “Keep screaming, you naughty brat! Let me hear how you love taking my cock so much.”

“Yeah yeah yeah shit! Mhhhmmm oh God, you’re so big! You’re about to break meeee~”

A second load was poured inside her pussy as you reached your climax, making her shiver in your body stacked above you. You didn’t even allow her to ride out her orgasm as you still continued to perform shallow thrusts in her pussy, pumping your seed into her womb securely.

You left her on the bed and stood at her heaving figure, her strength and enthusiasm no more evident in her. She was there sprawled widely in your bed, her pussy gushing with cum, her sweaty naked slim body deliciously attractive.

“Look at you now, girl.” You said, shaking your head. “All worn out from being manhandled and properly disciplined. You’re gonna beg for me to stop now?”

“N-no… I- I’m not done with you yet.” Chaeyoung said as she tried to get up from the bed. “You wanted to finish me right? Fucking do it. This isn’t enough yet, don’t be too soft on me. Unless, you want me to repeat it again-”

“Oh no you don’t, that will be your last.” You snatched her arm and tugged her body at you so that she went standing now from the bed, her body pressed at you, her senses snapped awake at the force you applied on her.

She was easy to be dragged and carried thanks to her light size. You gave her a kiss on the lips while you stimulate her pussy with speed. Chaeyoung went moaning in your mouth and grasped your cock, jacking it off in return.

As your manhood erected back to life, you rotated her so that her back figure is facing you. Hooking your arm on her underpits, your hand aided your cock to insert it back on her pussy. After it slid it, she tiptoed as she was once again cornered in your hold.

You didn’t waste any time to give her the treatment she wanted, you fucked her roughly, her ass bouncing and rippling at the pounding you’re giving her. Ravaging her pussy in a full nelson, Chaeyoung’s cracked voice increased in sync.

Your hands left the back of her head for a moment, switching through her two perky tits bouncing rapidly at your pace. You pulled her nipples and squished it repeatedly in between your thumb and ring finger. Chaeyoung couldn’t describe the incredible feeling of pain and pleasure combined that you’re providing for her.

She writhe in pain as you cupped her breasts, squeezed it to its might and even slapping at it, giving equal abuse just like what you did to her ass hours ago. Her tits reddened as you stop before locking her in and suckled her neck and chest, raining it with hickeys. “You asked for this, Chae. This is all for you.”

You filled her pussy again with your cum, she fainted in your arms at the insane orgasm she’s having. As you slide off your thick meat out of her pussy, you pushed her back on the bed. Now laying down, you became aware that your energy can’t keep this up long anymore so you decided to wrap this with one last harsh sexual activity you knew she would love.

Dragging her body in circle so that she would be from feet to head in your perspective, you leveled above her head and shove your balls into her face. Getting the signal, she began worshipping it with her talented mouth while you stroke your cock at the feeling of her tits on your hand.

Now all slick and wet, you pushed your shaft and lodged it to her awaiting mouth. To make her pretty lips and throat tight as hell, you wrapped your hands again around her neck, choking her as you facefucked her upside down. Turning Chaeyoung as your human fleshlight effectively amusing you.

“Yeah that feels so fucking good, Chaeyoung. You look so damn hot being used like this.” You said as your eyes rolled and your legs squatted to erratically impale into her mouth. The sensation is outstanding, her mouth sliding across your length while she is in air restriction makes you want to dominate her like this often.

You groped and massaged her breasts as you kept the speed, fucking her intensely just like how you did with her pussy and ass. The gags were astoundingly loud, followed by her quick pats on your thigh to announce her limit.

Few more strokes, you blasted one last load of creamy cum in her mouth before Chaeyoung shifted her body to allow her to swallow it all.

Some of it went flowing out on the corners of her lips, but she didn’t let every drop go to waste as she tasted them with her fingers. You tapped your cock on her tongue repeatedly before she gave you one last suck to clean the residue.

You went sitting on the floor, leaning your back on the side of the bed while Chaeyoung face was still upside down beside you, as she remained laying in reverse. You looked at each other and both smiled at whatever just happened.

“That was… damn, I didn’t know what came into me.” You chuckled. “Are you alright?”

“Definitely better.” Chaeyoung answered proudly. “I missed you being so rough at me..”

“So it was indeed planned.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry if I had to.” Chaeyoung apologized with pure sincerity. “I became horny out of nowhere and I craved for us to have sex.”

“And that’s what you thought to do? To insult me and cost me my match?”

She only gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I swear, I don’t mean it at all.”

“No worries, it’s just a game, babe. I knew you did, actually I even saw it coming that you want my attention when you wore the clothes I bought for you. You looked so insatiable.” You kissed her on the cheek.

“Then I’ll wear that more often.” She grinned and winked. “Anyways, about your rank. I could help you if you want.”

“Wait but you’re already in mythical glory?”

“I can use my smurf account though. I’m in Epic there.”

Without any hesitation, you accepted the offer from your girlfriend. “Nice! Save me from my curse, please.” And Chaeyoung just laughed at your banter.

===OOO===

[yourcuteweirdo8p]

♡ Yandere Magical Boy ♡

Eli loved being a magical boy! The whole thing was a dream come true! Wearing cute outfits and fighting crime with his friends? What could be better!?

well... he could think of one thing.

you~

He first met you when he had been 'Sparkling Heart' for a couple weeks, and you had started raging terror on the city. He treasures the memory dearly <3

"Who are you, and why are you doing this?"

"I am Dark Heart, your arch nemesis!"

It was love at first sight <3

Every villain attack, he's secretly hoping it's you.

Plays it off to his team: "I know theres good in them! I just have to get through to them!"

Secretly really likes fighting you. It... awakens something in him, although he'd never admit it.

Gets in trouble for zoning out thinking about you, both in hero and civilian life.

Always trips over his own feet fighting you, and beats himself up afterwards.

"S-sweetheart, you don't understand! I-I love you! Every time I look at you, my tummy goes all squirmy, and my brain goes all mushy... and, and... Please punch me again!"

He HATES when you team up with other villains. You're HIS nemesis, so only look at him!

Is known among other superhero teams for being weirdly possessive of his territory. He refuses to team up with anyone else unless it's a life or death threat.

Presses on the bruises you give him, so they'll last longer. He likes to pretend they're hickeys, sometimes, if he's in a romantic mood.

Would do ANYTHING to know your civilian identity.

He WOULD give up the city if it meant you were his girlfriend/boyfriend/pookie bear <3

"Scum like you doesn't deserve to even LOOK at them, much less..." *Shutters* "touch them, like you did. You deserve to be punished, I think :)"

He doesn't take any particular pleasure in causing pain, but he sees it as a necessity, to put villainous scum in their place.

Hed never hurt you! He'd sooner die!

"Don't worry sweetheart, you're just taking a nice, long nap. And when you wake up, you'll be in a better place! With me."

[terephin]

I've been having ideas for like a week, so fakepost time, Star Wars Edition.

rotunda

dailyjediquotes reblogged verpine-sextoy [21:3:28]

dailyjediquotes [21:3:27]

QUOTE OF THE DAY : "Kill yourself, perhaps you should. Traditional, it is." - Jedi Master Yoda, 225:6:11BrS

verpine-sextoy follow [21:3:27]

what the kriff. why

dailyjediquotes [21:3:28]

It's advice, given to Jedi Knight Lo'or Cil'lin during negotiations with the Breem. Apparently, it's traditional when two of them can't reach an agreement to kill themselves, and whoever heals back to life first is considered to have the favour of the planet, thus winning.

verpine-sextoy [21:3:28]

that does not help

#skill issue honestly verpie #you should really read up on the Breem though. fascinating species

419 notes

da-emperooorxxx reblogged droidswrongsactivist [21:3:28]

czerka-corp-officialdeactivated15740 [3949:2:12]

The Czerka Corporation would like to remind you that all rumours regarding the nature of our current HK series droids are just that, rumours. The HK series are designed only for protocol duties, and will not, nor can they ; Kill you, Kill your family, Kill your enemies, Kill your pets, Deliberately cause a diplomatic incident, Spread your secrets, Spread your enemies secrets, or break article 509-411-C of Republic Law.

droidswrongsactivist [3949:2:15]

Mocking Statement : This latest attempt at hiding the nature of the HK series is the most pathetic yet. I am forced to applaud the meatbags of Czerka, I did not have faith that they could make it more obvious.

da-emperooorxxx [21:2:13]

Wait wait wait, I just saw this, how frakking old are you @ droidswrongsactivist?????

droidswrongsactivist [21:3:27]

Irrelevant.

#what the fraaaakkk

1009441 notes

dailyjediquotes reblogged remembertheskywalker [21:3:28]

generalbaewalkerdeactivated16537 [16:5:20]

Whoo, finally back on Coruscant and just in time too huh. Never thought the Separatists would get so bold. Everyone doing alright?

historyiswritten follow [20:9:43]

This is, to my knowledge, the last message sent by Anakin Skywalker before his death.

Look, I honestly don't care if the rest of the Jedi betrayed the Republic, but I refuse to believe Skywalker was in on it. The man was a hero unlike any other.

#yeah I've had my issues with the narrative for a while #but I swear by the fact that no matter what Skywalker wasn't part of the coup #I've read his logs #there's no way he'd do anything like that

56811344 notes

dailyjediquotes [21:3:27]

Anonymous asked : How in the name of Chaos has Imperial Intelligence not killed you by now????

Don't wooooooorry about it.

#snitches get 10-12 new orifices btw #just fyi

5 notes

droidswrongsactivist reblogged historical-smash-or-pass [21:3:27]

historical-smash-or-pass follow [21:2:44]

Smash or Pass ; Revan

Don't have much on this one honestly. I looked into them before this, but all I could find was that they were some sorta General during the Mandalorian Wars or something?

REMINDER : SUBMISSIONS MUST HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR 100 YEARS AT A MINIMUM. I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE TO KEEP SAYING THIS.

historical-smash-or-pass [21:3:1]

[Image ID : Tags reading #Smash #One of the few respectable meatbags I've known]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN "THAT YOU'VE KNOWN" IT'S BEEN THOUSANDS OF YEARS?????

#Do not worry your tiny meatbag brain about it.

1209 notes

bith-by-bith reblogged lekkuposting [21:3:27]

dug-in-a-hole follow [3:7:11]

Would you still love me if I was an Exogorth?

astralsauce follow [3:7:11]

No.

dug-in-a-hole [3:7:12]

Bad news then you mopak nerf herder.

57435 notes

bith-by-bith reblogged memoryoftaris [21:3:27]

clonerreviews follow [21:3:25]

GAR PROJECT MEGAREVIEW, PART TWO

Hello everyone, this is Koral Nai here again for you all with part two of the Megareview covering the Grand Army of the Republic project. This is made in collaboration with @ galactic-foundry , @ arms-armours-and-auxilaries and @ starshipping . Please remember to check them out for their parts on the CIS Droid Army, Armaments and Vehicles, and Starships of the Clone Wars respectively.

Without further ado, here's the video.

[Video pictured ; Title "GAR MEGAREVIEW PART TWO - UNITS 200001 THROUGH 400000". The thumbnail depicts a grey eyed Kaminoan sitting in front of a shelf of damaged Phase 1 Clonetrooper equipment. It is 25 hours long.]

shouldsioniastandfree follow [21:3:26]

Wow, the longneck was serious about it? I though the first one was the Kaminoan version of a joke.

on-starlit-wings follow [21:3:26]

We all know Kaminoans don't have fun. They're too busy gloating about the superiority of their own frakking poodoo for that.

303496 notes

Calling it there for this one. Hope, uh, you enjoyed?

Btw if you're questioning the numbers, there's like a lotta people in the SW galaxy, and while rotunda is pretty small for being SW soc med, that still means you generally multiply the notes by 100.

Also for the dates : https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Great_ReSynchronization

Also if you can tell what the various mini references and jokes are, please say so! I put a decent amount of research into this shitpost.

Now I gotta figure out how to tag this thing...

[augustuscaesarsalad]

I love fandom, I love making shit up, and I love evil characters. I love morally gray characters, nuisances, losers, and villains! I love completely inventing backstories and character motivations and all that jazz.

That all being said, I find something profoundly frustrating about the Marauders fandom and their view of Snape. If you choose to believe that Regulus was lead astray by the Death Eaters, then you have to think the same about Snape, because it’s true! If you think that Regulus is a hero for betraying Voldemort, cool! But he did it for even MORE selfish of a reason than Snape, and then he died. Snape lived the rest of his life working to defeat Voldemort, he is also the reason that Harry survived ANY of the books, and is the reason Harry found out he was a Horcrux. Was Snape wrong for calling Lily a Mudblood? Yes! Do you honestly believe that Regulus, Barty, Evan, and Bellatrix weren’t calling people Mudbloods left and right? Be so fucking fr right now. Snape was groomed to join a cult, he was a completely vulnerable member of society with nobody supporting him, no rich family, no one standing up for him, and the people on the so-called “Light side” were tormenting him nonstop. To me, that’s much more sympathetic than “his rich family told him to join the death eaters so he did!” Fandom Regulus is kind of repackaged Snape tbh, and I’d be fine with it if it didn’t come along with so much Snape hate. Snape is mean, vindictive, and spiteful, and I love him for that. I also love Regulus for being Kreacher’s number one supporter and having a homemade Voldemort collage in his bedroom! It’s fun! And that’s what fandom is about! Also, about Snape being a mean teacher, when I was a kid and I read the books for the first time, I straight up never thought he was that mean. I was raised doing ballet, and any Vaganova technique teacher is wayyyyyyyy more mean than Snape lmao. (Not that Snape wasn’t mean, don’t get me wrong, he was, but I can still like him lol)

I guess in conclusion, people need to stop hating on Snape tbh it’s getting really old. Why are any of the Death Eaters (former and otherwise) fine and good in Marauders fans eyes except for Snape? He’s the one who actually contributed to the good of the world. If you can like Barty fucking Crouch Jr then you can like Snape lmao, one of them was a complete creep and it’s sure as hell is not Snape! Snape serves cunt too.

Anyways lol

[ghostgirl666artist]

Hi, here I bring a one-shot of Dog Man. In this story, Petey and Greg are already an established couple. No warnings are needed before reading.

Title; The Risks of Being a Police Officer

Summary ;

Dog Man is seriously injured in an explosion, and Petey is at the hospital, desperately hoping his fiancé will survive while trying to comfort Li’l Petey. Petey feels overwhelmed and angry at Dog Man for risking his life that way, but in the end, after everything, they are a family

He knew that being engaged to Dog Man wouldn't be easy. Not just because he had once been a villain or because of his troubled past, but also because of Dog Man's profession itself. Petey knew that being a police officer came with risks. Greg risked his life for a city that, in his opinion, didn’t even deserve him.

He was aware that sooner or later, they would end up in this situation because, while Dog Man was strong, he was not invincible. He hated hospitals with every fiber of his being—the overwhelming smell, the heavy atmosphere that filled the halls, as if death itself wandered through the corridors looking for its next soul to take. Or maybe his aversion stemmed from the fact that the last time he was in a hospital, his mother had died. And now, here he was again, sitting in the waiting room with his son, anxiously awaiting news about his fiancé, who was in surgery.

Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. One moment, they were at home, and the next, they heard a distant explosion. The blast was so strong that it was immediately on the news, but the worst part was seeing Dog Man being carried away on a stretcher live on television. According to Chief (who was also at the hospital waiting), Greg had saved a little girl trapped inside the building that exploded. She made it out, but Greg was buried under the rubble. When they finally pulled him out, they discovered a metal beam had pierced through his abdomen.

Petey could only imagine the pain that must have caused him. He blamed himself for not doing anything. While he had been safe at home, his fiancé had been impaled by a piece of iron. He could have done something, but by the time he arrived, it was too late. It had already happened.

Somehow, he felt just as helpless as when he had watched his mother die. He hadn't been able to do anything for her. And now, he couldn’t do anything for Dog Man either.

He felt his son gripping him tightly as he held him in his arms. He was scared. Li’l Petey had seen the news. He had seen how badly hurt his other father was. As soon as they saw it, they rushed to the hospital. Petey couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if Greg didn’t survive. Li’l Petey would lose a father. No child should have to go through that. He didn’t want his son to experience what he had.

And he… he couldn’t bear to lose anyone else. Dog Man had changed his life in ways he never imagined. Together with Li’l Petey, they had taught him to see the brighter side of life. They had built a family, and imagining a world without Dog Man just felt… wrong.

“Papa…” His son’s trembling voice interrupted his thoughts. Petey looked down at him with concern, seeing the sadness in his big eyes. “What if Dog Man… doesn’t make it? What will we do?”

That shattered his heart. It was like taking a bullet straight to the chest.

And then, he felt a sudden wave of anger toward his fiancé. How dare he put himself in danger like that, knowing he had a family? A son waiting for him? Was his reckless heroism so blinding that he couldn’t see how his actions could hurt the people who loved him?

But he kept that thought to himself. He would confront Greg later. Right now, he needed to comfort his son.

“Listen, Dog Man is strong. He’s a hero. He’ll survive anything. Right now, he needs our support more than ever, so let’s be positive, okay? And if… if something bad happens, I will always be here for you.”

He felt the little kitten hug him even tighter, crying into his chest. Petey gently stroked his head, hoping to soothe him. They remained like that until the door to the operating room finally opened and a nurse stepped out. In that instant, his heart pounded, and his stomach twisted into knots.

“Family of Dog Man?” The nurse called out. Petey, Li’l Petey, and Chief immediately jumped to their feet, anxious and desperate. “Dog Man is stable. He just needs to rest. You’ll be able to see him in a few minutes, once we confirm everything is in order.”

Petey let out a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding.

“Thank you, nurse,” Chief said, visibly relieved as he left the waiting room, likely to inform others that the city’s hero was still alive.

“Did you hear that, Papa?! Dog Man is okay! He really is super strong!” Li’l Petey cheered excitedly. His joy was instant, as if he had never been sad in the first place.

But Petey couldn’t stop thinking about how close they had come to losing him. It was a miracle. Honestly, it felt like a dream—like at any moment, he would wake up and still be waiting for news.

And he was angry.

Angry at Greg.

How could he be so reckless? How could he dare to nearly leave them behind? It wasn’t fair.

He knew Dog Man was a hero. He knew what that meant. But it was still hard. Dog Man was the purest, kindest soul he had ever met, besides his son. Always looking out for others, protecting a city that, ever since his accident, had cast him aside.

Petey wanted to lock him inside their home. He wanted to keep him all to himself, to make sure he was safe. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Dog Man was a free spirit—a hero who fought for others. And that was one of the many reasons he loved him so much. No matter how angry he felt, he knew he wouldn’t stay mad at him for long.

After a few minutes, the nurse returned and told them they could enter. Li’l Petey immediately jumped up and pulled his arm, dragging him toward the hospital room. Chief said he would go in later—Dog Man needed to see his family first.

When they entered, they saw Greg lying on the hospital bed, his abdomen completely bandaged. He was already awake, smiling at them with that stupid expression that always managed to make Petey blush.

Petey was so relieved to see him okay that, as expected, he reacted harshly.

“You idiot dog! You really scared us! Don’t ever do that again!"

Greg gave him sad puppy eyes.

“Oh no, don’t think for a second that you’re getting out of this scolding."

“Papa…” Li’l Petey pouted. “You said we had to support Dog Man, not scold him.”

Dog Man looked at them curiously.

“Look, I’m just worried, okay?” Petey sighed. “You’re lucky Li’l Petey is here… But please, don’t sacrifice yourself like that again. There are people who care about you, you know?”

Greg happily wagged his tail, as if nodding, and then licked Petey’s cheek.

“Hey! You dumb dog!” Petey protested, but ultimately gave in. Li’l Petey let out a small giggle.

“Nothing was going to happen to me,” Greg signed in sign language. “I wasn’t going to give up… because I had to come back to you two.”

That shook Petey to his core. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around his fiancé, being careful not to hurt him. Li’l Petey clung to him as well.

“You idiot dog… I love you"

Thanks for reading 💕✨🐶😼

[11queensupreme11]

Ooooo😨😨😨 that sounds so devastating!!! But u said a part of Percy is still watching over him so does that mean she sees this and does nothing? Or is it that she CANT do anything about it? Also does she know it’s Cu doing this? Or just bad luck?

she knows!!! not right away though!!!

since she's been spending some time in midgard, she's become pretty politically aware of what's been happening in america, so she knows something's off when one day the president declares war cuz things were NOT bad enough for that to happen (let's pretend this is after trump lmao)

it sends alarm bells in her head and it soon clicks in that this definitely has "divine intervention" written all over it and her first suspect is cú chulainn because he's the only war god out of her husbands (tho beel would be a second close suspect, but she has a higher suspicion that it's cú chulainn cuz of the latest... events with his affair and his insanity over it)

she first tries her best to stop him, demanding, screaming, pleading, and begging for cú chulainn to stop the war, but he doesn't. this guy's crazy pissed and paranoid after having to go several years without his wife because of his terrible actions, so he is 10000x more unhinged than usual 💀💀💀

so she gives up on trying to make her husband stop and puts her focus on trying to save the human. but cú chulainn, like the true psycho he is, doesn't stop there. every time she helps him, literally just any time she helps him no matter how little or small, cú chulainn returns it tenfold with more trauma and horror.

percy guides him to a fresh water source to drink from because he's suffering from dehydration? the next day, his only friend gets bombed and blown to pieces right before his eyes

percy gives him the boost he needs to save himself and other soldiers in the battlefield? he's declared a hero, but the next day, they those same soldiers slowly die of their injuries, screaming in pain and agony without even any pain medication or a way to numb it down because medical supplies are dwindling. the title "hero" hangs heavy on his head, and now he can't even stand the word.

percy subtly pushes a thought into the mind of the general, giving him a better battle strategy to follow that has the highest chance of success and minimal deaths, saving her favorite human's life and the lives of others? as they're resting after the battle, they suddenly get ambushed by the enemies and many of them are slaughtered before the man's eyes and he's horribly injured. but he lives through it. he always does, but the others never do, and it drives him crazy.

every time she tries to help, her husband's always there to undo it and make everything more horrific. at this point, she'd be too scared to even help the man's family back in america, too scared that they would be placed under the wrathful gaze of her husband. no matter what she does, that man will suffer and it devastates her. eventually, he kills himself and cú chulainn kisses her goodbye so he can go meet his dear wife's friend now that he's finally in valhalla

basically, if you're a mortal, never piss off a god. they'll ruin you with just a simple thought 💀

[hinderr]

The only thing Gideon in the httyd is missing is the helmet,,,,,, oh the moment grogu sees the schematics and blueprints for it,,,,,,, ough

OHHHH ANON YOUR MIND.....in my head Gideon and Grogu get plenty of opportunities to talk in an even casual way (^ author when the opportunity to make these two fucked up arises) so Grogu probably gets to see them really quickly...maybe Gideon even shows it to him.....

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

When Superboy Prime accidentally resurrected Jason Todd, it was described something like the universe righting itself. And, from a purely physical point of view, Jason never died. It brought his body back to it's state before his death, his injuries there but with just enough he could still survive

So, now I'm imagining like. What if there was an au where it was more than Jason just physically "never dying," but it affected memories of those around as well

Joker not remembering killing him, Dick not remembering hearing the news, Batman and Gotham not remembering the 6 months between Jason's death and resurrection, but not thinking much if it

Its all as if Jason never died

[creativesplat]

ok... so Lambert x Eve...

Eve and the two Blaiddyds

Lambert and the two Fierenes

The step-siblings

@blaiddydbrokeit and I were talking, and they have now sent me down the wonderful rabbit hole that is Eve and Lambert getting married and looking after their children.

[mediacinemtographyartetc]

I agree with Op.

Take a look at Tony Starks B.A.R.F program. Re-creating a scene and changing it to come to terms with his parents death. Fiction and art is used the same, people re-create the truamatic scenario and create a sandbox and change it.

It removes the person from their truama and makes them look at it objectively, through the victim, the abuser, or the event (Such as a car crash/ptsd/etc)

It's no different than playing with dolls and creating fake scenarios.

And yes just like maladaptive daydreaming, dissociating things to an extreme can be bad NO ONE IS SAYING IT'S NOT. Staying in a bad mindspace too long and even being unable to differentiate fiction from reality like Anne Wilkes and being physically upset over fiction can be harmful to yourself and others.

Yes the internet is NOT safe for kids/ and vunerable people but it never was, and an individual person is in control of the content they view.

If I turned on the tv and flick through channels I would flick past, cartoons, surgery, news showing triggering content, game shows, then adverts to break it up.

I can understand the argument of why people think enjoying Mature/dark content could probably reflect a persons tastes outside that Media consumption.

However it's not a simple black and white topic that everyone can agree with, with so many arguments go against it, for example emo's and music that sings about suicide. Does it promote suicide? Or were people already like that with or without the music, the music didn't promote it or claim it was cool or okay to do, people are drawn to it regardless if they did self-harm or not as they felt heard or just liked the song sometimes it's not that deep.

But making generalisations that listening to artists like that means everyone is promoting dangerous habits- of course people are going to defend themselves the fuck? And when it's something that no one had a problem with as in thousands of artists/fans and communties never saw it as a problem before until now just because some people can't understand it's just a song? People who don't go that far, but implying people are dumb that they would go so far only because of a song is to dismiss peoples struggles and looking down on someone is so ignortant and shows a severe lack of empathy. People listen to that music and feel better after, because not everyday feels like sunshine and rainbows.

And sometimes not everyone wants to watch Disney cartoons and spoon-fed content that's unoffensive.

Sometimes people want to be challenged, some shows are opening up delicate topics that people are too afraid to talk about and keep it as vague characters to discuss with to be more informed. But taking such a topic that deserves tlc and charging in like a bull and jumping to accusations make people bottle up and no one talks about such things. There are even people who claim they demonise certain media in public- but then enjoy it in private. | People think they're cultivating a safe enviroment but as an observer whose too old for this- I'm just noticing a pattern. |

That it comes across as conservative pearl clutching parents not telling kids sex-ed then having the nerve to act shocked they end up pregnant and instead of explaining or even giving support- instead kick them out the house and disown them.

In this metaphor, instead of explaining to minors in a none condescending tone- non-insulting, and explain critical thinking. But instead harrass, dox then accuse victims of being the abusers themselves.

Like congrats you called someone a degenerate piece of shit that deserves to die, or deserves their truama like THANK YOU.

I'm sure they realised you're argument is valid and will stop watching this anime/ webtoon you claimed was encouraging immoral behaviours like WHAT A HERO! (Sarcasm in case that wasn't obvious)

But the funny thing is, seeing those same people demonise one media, then indulge in something else that has those same 'Mature/dark themes' they were just demonsing.

"Oh no this is different, all women who watch yaoi get off on men fucking and fetish gay men the utter disgusting heathens and that yaoi is always based in high school! ew imagine getting off on two teenagers fucking- huh? What about Heartstopper? That's differernt! And that kid tottally deserved to be publicaly outed and harrased for playing a queer actor and expose his privacy just to calm down the masses!"

Not claiming the above is mostly anti's but harrasing and bullying online is so common now because thats the online presence anti's have cultivated - my point is that people who think fiction affects reality, are the same types who take it too far in hero-worship and parasocial relationships with celebrities playing their comfort characters/ or writers making their favourite franchises.

antis will always say something like "profic isn't good for your mental health! this isn't a healthy coping mechanism!" and yet not a single therapist would ever recommend that people bottle up their thoughts, feelings & urges. people NEED an outlet, especially for trauma survivors. in terms of outlets, what would you rather have? seeking comfort in fiction where nobody gets hurt, or seeking comfort in acting on real life people and changing the trajectory of their lives? if you say "neither," then im afraid you're missing the point. you can't heal trauma by ignoring it, that makes it worse. also hating profic because you pretend to care about someone's mental health is such a bad excuse. people cope differently and that's OK! how does it affect you? their trauma isn't yours, and even if you experienced similar trauma, you have no right to shame others for how they choose to cope. it's not your place! you're not making the internet a safer space by dictating how people should / shouldn't cope, you're just being an ass!

[scopophobia-polaris]

Arn seeing Timie on the street: aw what acute lil guy sure hope he isn't tormented!

Bro absolutely messed up, wanted to be a good boy and help someone because this mirrors shit that happened to him but instead found out that Timie is filled with 10thousand problems and somehow knows Arn to a weird degree withought ever really talking to him and he cant...figure out why..... can you really meet someone in a dream?

And now poor Arnold got a little guy that wants to cling onto him when they're sad

[infizero]

great now im thinking about sa2 again. it always circles back to this

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

��Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[fanaroff]

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

[lightseoul]

CASUAL CASUALTIES (10.6k)

pairing. k. bakugou x reader

synopsis. what was meant to be an innocent trip down to the bridge becomes a national sensation when you get outed as #15 pro-hero dynamight's soulmate on live tv. inconvenient, yes, very much so—but it's not like you have to do something about it. but then the bakugou katsuki himself seeks you out, and you find yourself getting into a whole lot of trouble. inspired by @/andypantsx3's fingerprints. (read on ao3)

c.w. minors dni. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up, post-timeskip/ch 431, soulmate!au, lots of cursing, reader is ill, depictions of mental illness (mentions of depressive themes and suicidality), mentions of death, nsfw/mature themes, minor manga spoilers

a/n. here it is, y'all! while i know the word count and tags are quite daunting, i really hope you give this fic a chance because i'm extremely proud of this one, which i haven't felt about my writing in a while. if you do end up reading it, thank you and i sincerely hope you enjoy it <3

to be fair, you were just…weighing your options.

taking a short trip down to shizuoka’s famous ayumi bridge wasn’t part of your itinerary for the day, not that you’ve been having exceptionally busy itineraries for who knows how long. it was a spur-of-the-moment decision that you periodically second-guessed on the way there, the vivid picture of your unmade but comfortable bed weighing heavily in your mind.

still, and despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the need for fresh air, nor the relief that filled your renewed albeit fatigued lungs as you finally arrived at your destination.

from where you are now standing with your arms folded on top of the relatively short railings, you look past the barricade and down onto the cloudy river below you.

it was an innocent gesture—one borne out of curiosity minus most of the morbidity—but it apparently wasn’t innocent enough, because one moment you were studying the ripples in the distant water, and the next, you’re violently yanked from behind.

you let out an unintentional ‘oof’ as you stumble backward, your body helplessly tugged alongside the blouse that you vaguely register as the thing that’s being pulled back. you probably stagger a few feet away from the edge of the bridge, before unceremoniously falling on your butt.

and as if out of nowhere, pro-hero dynamight emerges right in front of you.

“are you crazy?” he spits out, frenzied. “do you have a fucking death wish?”

you blink. “i—”

he throws his arms up in what you think is defeat, cutting you off, although he’s looking more pissed than resigned. “fucking menaces,” he mumbles loudly under his breath.

a surge of indignation instantly shoots through you, and you open your mouth to spit something back at him, but you don’t get the chance to, because he holds out his hand.

robbed of all words, and quite frankly, barely registering what’s happening, the best you can do is blink at him. again.

his eyebrows furrow, irritation surely bubbling in his veins. his hand stays put, though. “what are you waiting for? get up.”

you hesitate, eyes drifting from his face and down to his hand. unlike his gloved left, his right is bare, and riddled with a plethora of scars. you didn’t know about that, at least from his pictures on tv and social media, unlike the one on his face that is constantly broadcasted for everyone else to see.

you don’t dwell on it further, though, deciding then and there that you want to go home right the fuck now.

you quickly take his hand and help him by pulling yourself up. once you’re upright, you’re just as quick to let go, opting to brush off the dirt stuck to your clothes.

“thanks,” you start, forcing yourself to meet his piercing gaze that’s indubitably boring holes into your face. “…i guess.”

“you guess?” he spews, incredulous, before shaking his head. “never fucking mind.”

“dynamight!”

startled, you whip to look at the source of the voice, and your eyes comically widen when they land on a group of people who look suspiciously like the media. and right behind them are a few police cars dotted with several police officers.

you turn to face bakugou, about to clarify with him if he knows what they’re doing here, but he’s already staring at you, an inexplicable expression etched on his face.

“what?” you can’t help but ask.

he sighs, cocking his head toward the closely approaching herd. “get ready.”

“dynamight!” the woman decked out in a blazer and pencil skirt exclaims, completely oblivious to the concept of personal space as she thrusts her microphone into bakugou’s face. you feel yourself shrink from where you stand slightly to his right, unsure as to whether or not you’re being filmed right now.

you hope you aren’t.

“two negotiations in a row,” she breathes out, disbelieving. “how did you do it?”

negotiations?

“what kind of stupid question is that?” he barks out. “i simply was in the right place at the right time with the first one.”

“oh, you’re too humble!” she quips, signaling the cameraman to steady his shot of the pro-hero’s face. “we came as soon as we could when we heard about what was going down here.”

“yeah, and you could’ve caused the situation to escalate even further than it already did,” he retorts without missing a beat. the reporter’s face falls. bakugou takes that as a sign to go on.

“you’re lucky i arrived and intervened when i did. and how did none of you dipshits think to call the fucking police?”

“i—”

“you’re all too preoccupied with getting your next scoop that you lost your fucking grip on reality and failed to help,” the pro-hero chastises.

he pauses for a second, and you’re about to think he’s finally done with his spiel for the woman’s sake when he glances at you, looking like he’s got something more to say.

and as you find out in the next, excruciating seconds, he definitely has.

the man shoots his arm up, his thumb sticking out, pointing conveniently at you.

“case in point,” he states. “we could’ve had a casualty.”

you gawk at him.

a what?

“i’m sorry,” you start, turning to face the ash-blonde, acutely aware of the inquisitive eyes peering at you, “i think you’re misunderstanding. i wasn’t going to jum—”

“oh my god.”

miffed, you turn again to look at the woman, but now her countenance has gone all pale, looking like she just saw a poltergeist. seemingly speechless, she doesn’t try to get a word out, but what she does is point at bakugou’s wrist.

the man beside you shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “the fuck are you—”

whatever bite the pro-hero was about to unleash on the reporter gets stuck in his throat when he flips his hand and freezes.

and when you see the familiar-looking timer written on his wrist that reads 00:02:57, you stiffen.

it can’t be.

still, you’ve got to make sure.

and so with bated breath, you slowly lift your right hand, turning it with the palm facing up.

and sure enough, your timer—the one that’s been at zero your entire life—reads just a few seconds after bakugou’s.

he thinks he’s fucking spiderman.

you mentally roll your eyes as you replay the clip of bakugou that went viral a few days ago.

you were able to put two and two together on the way home from the bridge, your conjecture proven correct when you got home and checked your social media accounts, which were crawling with articles and posts about the jumper who the #15th pro-hero dynamight was able to talk down.

he was a middle-aged man who apparently lost custody of his only son in light of his divorce, and couldn’t find a way out of the agony apart from death.

you couldn’t get a good view of his face, since the shots were all focused on bakugou taking his glove off to reach out to the guy, but you figure that’s a good thing. the man’s already fucking suicidal—the last thing he needs is for his privacy to be breached.

you can only laugh at the irony as you parse through your notifications, because lo and behold—they’ve already found you out.

because of course! what story sells better than a notorious hero’s successful negotiation with a jumper?

a notorious hero’s successful negotiation with a jumper who also happens to be his fucking soulmate.

nevermind the fact that you weren’t actually planning to jump that day.

“excuse me?”

you look up from your phone to find a teenage girl peering at you timidly from across the counter.

you tuck the device in your pocket and put on your most cordial smile. “hi! how can i help you?”

she puts what seems to be a fantasy duology on top of the surface between the two of you, before shooting you a shy smile back. “just these two, please.”

you peek at the titles and immediately light up. “great choice! my friend loves these.”

she lets out a delighted sound as you ring up her purchase, and you make small talk as you take her card and pack her books in a brown paper bag.

“have fun reading!” you say as she accepts the package from you, mouthing a quick thanks.

you watch the girl exit the bookstore with a grin you didn’t know you had on your face, which you only catch wind of when you shift your attention back to the next person in line.

because one sight of them has it wiped off your mouth in an instant.

even if they’re decked out in the most unhelpful disguise of a baseball cap, hoodie, and face mask.

still, two can play at this game. and quite frankly, you’re up for roleplaying rather than having a confrontation anyway, with this ridiculous get-up he has on.

and so with the most friendly tone you can muster, you ask: “how can i help you?”

even behind his whole guise, you can see the darkening of his gaze when you put forth the question. “are you serious?”

you tilt your head to the side in fake innocence. “what do you mean, sir? you’re at the counter at a bookstore…”

apparently, that’s enough to rile up the great explosion murder god dynamight, because he angrily tugs his mask down before bobbing his head as if saying ‘seriously’?

you pretend you’re just figuring it out, going the extra mile by letting your mouth form the shape of a small ‘o’, but you can tell he’s not buying it. he glares at you, and you’re smart enough to know it’s a warning, so you cut it out despite yourself.

“the question’s still the same, by the way,” you offer when he doesn’t say anything. “how can i help you?”

his eyebrows furrow. “are you always this fucking nonchalant?”

no, you answer in your head, but he doesn’t need to know that it’s less nonchalance and more apathy. you shrug, “it's either that or panic about the whole situation.”

this time, his eyebrows shoot up. “so you’re not frazzled? like, at all?”

you stop yourself from rolling your eyes just in time. “of course, i am. kind of—at least. the last thing i need is to be scrutinized by the public.”

“that one’s on you, showing up at the same bridge as that jumper.”

you bristle. “i told you, i wasn’t going to jump!”

only belatedly do you realize that you just said that last bit quite loudly, and you hurriedly scan the room to see a few curious faces have glanced your way. you bow slightly in apology, before turning back to regard the pro-hero.

he huffs. “let’s say you weren’t. it doesn’t matter, because we still made contact and now the news is out.”

“so? i don’t see how we have to do anything about it.”

“believe me, i agree.”

you laugh. “wow, who knew the dynamight doesn’t want a soulmate, let alone meet and be tethered to one?”

“laugh all you want, dumbass,” comes bakugou’s reply. “but what i’m about to say is not a laughing matter.”

“do pray tell.”

“fucking—” he starts, before taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. once he’s expelled that air, he fixes his gaze on you. you subconsciously straighten up.

“i need you to put up appearances with me.”

you squint at him. “huh?”

he presses his lips in a tight line. “i’m dropping in the rankings, and i’ll drop even further if i don’t—”

“i don’t see how any of this is my business.”

“—if i don’t do anything palatable about the situation,” he presses on. “it’s costing me and my agency, as much as i fucking hate to admit it.”

you only stare at him, letting the gears in your head turn in light of the newfound information. and when you don’t say anything, bakugou finishes.

“it’ll only be for a while.”

pft.

a while?

you hesitate. of course, you would. there’s absolutely no reason for you to get involved with the pro-hero, especially not now nor in the near, foreseeable future. in fact, you don’t even want to think about how he found out this is where you worked part-time. and you know there’s more where that came from.

you shake your head, “i’m sorry, but there’s no way i can—”

“i’ll pay you.”

you whip to look at him, shocked. “what?”

“you need the money, right?” he asks, and you hate how he’s right. “pr is offering an amount.”

you gulp, hating even more how you’re actually considering this. “how much are we talking about?”

he tells you. you barely catch your jaw from dropping to the floor.

with that amount, you’ll have the luxury of quitting this minimum wage job that you’ve barely been able to keep doing and then some. you’ll be set on your monthly expenses for a couple of months, and maybe even have enough to splurge on the few things that you’ve been wanting to get for yourself but haven’t had the means to.

and all that just by pretending for one to two months, tops?

your name and face are already common knowledge, anyway. there shouldn’t even be a debate.

you stick your right hand out, the one with the ticking timer on your wrist, for him to shake. he extends his, and the sight of the matching numbers sends an unidentifiable sensation down your spine. you try to ignore it.

and just like that, you shake on it, and the deal is on.

besides, you’ve got nothing to lose, anyway.

you push the glass door open, mindful of not adding any more handprints on the already marked surface. the wind chimes you didn’t know were hanging above it from the inside resonate as you enter, and you find yourself suddenly grateful that you at least managed to put on a bit of makeup for today. a few people seated near the entrance glance to look at you, which is probably a good thing for once.

right before bakugou left the bookstore a few days ago, he suggested you exchange numbers, which you agreed to gingerly. you expected radio silence for at least a week and hoped for forever, but a text eventually came later that night, asking for your availability so he could schedule a meet-up in public.

you told him you couldn’t meet until today, probably giving off the impression that you were busy with something, when in reality you were just tired and needed the time to process what was about to happen.

which brings you to now, standing at the doorway of a hip café in the heart of musutafu, scanning the faces for vermillion daggers he has for eyes.

it takes you a second, what with the afternoon crowd slowly encroaching on the establishment and filling up the tables, but you eventually locate him, with the help of the scarred hand he raises to get your attention.

“hey,” you greet when you reach his spot near the back, and he nods at you in acknowledgment. taking a seat across from him, you make it a point to study your position. “are you sure you want to sit here?”

he raises an eyebrow, which you can now see clearly without the shadow of the cap from before. “what, this table not up to your standard?”

exasperation shoots through you, as it always does, but you shake it off. instead, you toss him a tight-lipped smile. “no, it’s just that people might not see us back here. which, you know, kind of defeats the purpose?”

he doesn’t say anything for a beat, gaze fixated on you, before he breaks eye contact and shakes his head. “don’t worry,” he offers. “calculated move. we’re still gonna be spotted, trust me.”

you nod…slowly. you guess that makes sense. if you seat yourselves smack dab at the center, it may come off as the both of you seeking attention, consequently undermining the authenticity of your whole charade. a real high-profile couple would want to keep it low-key.

you snort at what you just called the two of you.

“what?” bakugou asks, defensiveness bleeding into his tone. you look up at him, and you take a second to study his appearance. he ditched the cap and hoodie, only sporting a black shirt and what you think are loose joggers and sneakers.

and with his infamously unruly hair trimmed?

well. you hate to admit it, but he actually looks…nice.

you smile at him, genuinely this time. “nothing.”

he narrows his eyes at you, like he thinks you’re lying out of your ass, but he lets it go. luckily enough, and as if on cue, the waiter arrives to give you the menu and complementary water, and bakugou orders iced tea while you request your go-to drink. you thank the guy before he dashes off to tend to other customers.

“so,” you start when silence falls upon the two of you. “how exactly are we going to do this?”

he picks up his glass. “do what?”

“you know, pretend?” you gesture vaguely with your hands. “do we have to do pda or something?”

you didn’t plan to cause it, but regardless, bakugou chokes on the ice-cold water he was just in the middle of drinking. you reach out to—what, rub his back?—but he holds his hand up to stop you as he coughs his lungs out. you sit back down, and you watch him as he gathers his bearings, wiping the tears that pooled at the corners of his eyes.

“sorry,” you supply, “great job, though. you just announced our presence to everybody.”

at that, bakugou snorts, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of you. he shakes his head, “dumbass.”

“but no,” he continues, back to being serious, “well, at least for now. as far as pr is concerned, we just have to be seen together until the whole thing dies out and the volatility of my ranking dissipates.”

“okay. that clicks, i guess.”

“you’re still up for it, then?”

now it’s your turn to narrow your eyes at him. “we shook on it, didn’t we? i’m a woman of my word, bakugou.”

“well—”

“and for the last time, i wasn’t going to jump.”

that makes him bark out a laugh so loud that it startles you. grinning, he waves you off. “yeah, yeah. don’t need to get all worked up, princess.”

blazing right past that cursed nickname—you’d first go through hell and high water before you let yourself be flustered in front of this man—you shoot him an expectant look. “well?”

“well, what?”

“are we just gonna sit here and stare at each other for two, three hours? we’ll have to do something, smartass.”

if bakugou is anywhere near bothered by your nickname for him, he doesn’t let it show. instead, he takes the bait. “whaddya have in mind?”

“we can play a conversation game. the one that has prompts?” you fish out your phone from your bag, and you quickly thumb through your apps until you find the one. you click on the button that says ‘play’ and place the gadget at the center of the table.

“there,” you point. “i ask a question and you answer. then we switch and so on and so forth.”

he examines the screen. “sounds lame.”

you scoff. “lamer than sitting and waiting?”

he doesn’t answer for a few seconds, until he finally sighs and nods at you, shifting in his seat as if bracing himself for what’s to come.

“i can go first,” you volunteer, straining to look at the words on display. you cringe when you read them. “do you think i was popular in high school?”

“seriously?” he snickers, and you shrug.

he doesn’t even take a moment to think about it. “well, you work in a bookstore, so no.”

“fair enough. your turn,” you swipe on the screen and turn it 180 degrees so he can see it.

you laugh when his face contorts as he finishes scanning the question. his eyes dart up to glare at you. “who came up with this stupid ass game?”

“just read the question, bakugou.”

he splutters for a beat, ultimately relenting, seething the words through his teeth. “when it comes to relationships, do you think i’m looking for something casual?”

you’re pretty sure you know what the answer is, but you still squint at the man to mess with him.

“are you fucking with me?” he grits out, bug-eyed. “does it fucking look like i’m capable of being casual about anything at all?”

you can’t help it—you throw your head back and laugh.

“stop laughing at me, dumbass.”

you press your lips together in an attempt to quell your mirth, but you burst out laughing again when you catch a glimpse of his reddening face.

“hey—”

“sorry, sorry—it was just—your face—”

“i get it, now quit it.”

eventually, but not immediately, you do. to your relief, bakugou doesn’t forfeit like a sore loser after that round, instead choosing to press on and find an equally incriminating question for you. you bounce off of each other, mainly talking about your respective pasts, like your education, families, and upbringing, although staying considerate enough not to overstep and pry on confidential information.

there were quite a few questions directed towards the present—what you’re currently doing, any nearing plans, current events—and you were okay enough to answer them with minimal detail. the future-oriented ones, though, you barely manage to skirt around and not respond to. you noticed bakugou looking at you a little too closely during those instances, but you feigned indifference.

that’s all you could do, really.

even then, and without you noticing, the hours pass by, and by the time you actually look past the prompts and up to your phone’s clock, it’s already 5:05 pm, a good four hours past your agreed-upon meeting time.

when you glance back up at bakugou, his face reads the same—mild shock at the fact that you were too engrossed in your conversation to notice the sky getting dark and the streetlights illuminating the walkways beyond the coffee shop’s glass walls turning on one by one.

“sorry,” you say as you swiftly take your phone and lock the screen. “i didn’t mean to keep you.”

“no,” he counters, pocketing his own. “i didn’t notice, either.”

you smile at him as you put on your bag. “still think it’s lame?”

“yes,” he promptly replies, a smirk now decorating his sharp features. “but i had fun, or whatever the fuck.”

and for the nth time that afternoon, you laugh.

he texts you first that night, to your surprise.

(8:38 pm) bakugou katsuki: thanks. for coming out today.

from where you were sprawled lazily on your mattress, hair still wet from that shower you almost didn’t take, you thumb out a response.

(8:39 pm) you: no problem, boss 🫡

you press send before you can overthink things. instead, you let the warm feeling of someone else’s gratitude bloom in your chest and bask in it. that doesn’t get to happen for too long, though, because another message arrives.

(8:40 pm) bakugou katsuki: don’t call me that. by the way, did you see the news?

you feel your brows crease.

(8:40 pm) you: what news?

ping.

(8:40 pm) bakugou katsuki: bakugou katsuki sent you a link

you immediately click on the string of words, and you’re redirected to an article. it takes a while to load—the internet is sometimes spotty at your modest condominium unit—but when it does, your jaw drops.

because right at the center of which is an image of you and bakugou at the café.

“holy shit.”

before anything else, you zoom in on your face, because priorities, right? you stare at the bunch of pixels for a good few minutes, before ultimately deciding there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. besides, it’s not like this was the first glimpse the public has had of your appearance. despite yourself, you check bakugou’s, and of course, the man looks like he just came straight out of a magazine shoot.

you then read the title, which must’ve been written in haste in an attempt to get ahead of a random netizen going viral. soulmates spotted: pro-hero dynamight seen with the girl from the bridge.

well.

at least they’re not calling you a jumper.

still.

(8:44 pm) you: seriously? girl from the bridge?

another ping.

(8:44 pm) bakugou katsuki: still at the fucking headline? hurry to the end, dumbass.

you roll your eyes, mainly because you can—perks of living alone and all. skimming through the sentences, you mouth the words to yourself—a rehash about who you are, the contact from a few days ago, eyewitnesses and accounts from today—until you land on the thing you think bakugou’s been trying to highlight.

in light of recent events, bakugou katsuki, who recently dropped several spots due to unfavorable encounters with citizens, has risen in the charts to #13.

you beam.

you and bakugou hang out a couple more times over the course of the next few weeks.

your get-togethers mainly depend on his schedule—which you gawked at how hectic it was when he first described it to you—even more now that you’re officially unemployed. your contractual obligation at the bookstore ended just in time as your first paycheck from the dynamight agency arrived, and you took the impeccable timing as the universe’s way of telling you to quit so you could instead spend your time freely on hobbies that you haven’t had the energy for.

on the days that you do meet, though, you end up dedicating a huge chunk of your waking hours to the endeavor. it’s like that meme of a google calendar, with the get ready for meeting, meeting, and recover from meeting blocks taking up the entire 9 to 5.

this was definitely the case for your fourth rendezvous, which you spent at a park near the bridge where you first met. he didn’t give you any details, so you walked into it blindly with a full face of makeup, hair done, and a tote bag full of finger food and some beverages in tow. needless to say, you were surprised when you arrived to the bakugou katsuki on a plaid orange picnic blanket, with what looked like handmade sandwiches displayed for hungry onlookers to see.

“don’t start,” he preempts when he sees you eyeing the snacks as you sit down.

you blink at him innocently, a smile tugging at your lips. “i wasn’t going to.”

he frowns. “quit grinning, would you? i just thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air.”

nodding solemnly, you bring out your share of rations. “sure.”

you brace yourself for any snide remark about your pitiful food—at least, as compared to his handcrafted ones—but they don’t come. instead, what you get is a side eye, before: “why’d you look like you’re going to an event, or some shit?”

you whip to face him. “huh?”

he gestures to your face.

“oh, this? i just don’t want to look ugly in the photos, is all.”

“ugly?” he spews, as if the word in itself was as hideous as it meant.

“yeah,” you retort defensively, placing the cans of juice on the ground before shifting to look at him. “not that you have to worry about that.”

a pause.

“what’s that supposed to mea—”

“do you have anything you want to do?” you cut him off, changing the topic.

“i—uh—” bakugou stammers, caught off guard. “we can just talk, or something.”

you light up at that, and he scoffs when he sees. “same game?”

“why the hell not.”

he texts you again after the picnic, right as you step out of the train and onto the platform of your stop. you smile when you catch a glimpse of it.

(6:05 pm) bakugou katsuki: at #9 now. thanks.

as you walk up the stairs and onto the streets, you find yourself wondering why this whole ruse has been working like a charm, and the answer is quick to arrive.

humans love narratives, after all.

and what better way to forward the age-old, comforting, and redeeming tale of soulmates than through the prickly, explosive pro-hero they know so well?

you don’t hear from each other after that. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous just the tiniest bit—he was right, after all. you needed the money, especially after having quit your job. but you tell yourself it’s only been a couple of days, to trust that he’ll text when it’s time to make another public appearance, and that he’s way above ghosting you like you’re easily dispensible, regardless of whether or not you do feel that you are.

so, in an attempt to stop obsessing over this thing you’ve got going on with bakugou, you drag your ass out of bed and head to the nearest mall to run a few errands. you realize when you get to the supermarket that you forgot to catalog the things you actually needed to buy, cursing yourself when you do. still, you try your best to get on with it, relying instead on your hazy memory of what needs replenishing.

a good thirty minutes later, and with your grocery–filled tote bags hanging from your shoulders, you trek towards the pharmacy and fall in line. as always, there’s a long queue, but you eventually reach your turn, promptly buying your necessary meds and hightailing it out of there.

you consider booking a taxi instead of commuting home when you eventually feel the strain of the weight on your shoulders, but decide against it. the temperature is pretty decent anyway, you think to yourself as you walk and relish in the cloudy yet slightly windy weather. you study the buildings that you pass by, partly to distract yourself from how your bags are getting heavier and heavier by the minute, when your eyes land on a particular complex and you stop.

it’s either you’re going crazy, or you’ve been passing by the dynamight agency a million times and you never noticed.

you stand there for what feels like an eternity, peering at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and letting the internal tug-of-war play out inside your head, until you ultimately let the curiosity win. slowly and with caution, you take a few steps towards the entrance. you honest-to-god weren’t planning on stepping foot inside the establishment, but apparently, the equally glass doors are automatic.

you falter for a moment, eyes wide as saucers like a deer caught in the headlights as the “gates” slide open for you, before making the split-second decision to enter. it was either that or look stupid in front of everyone in the lobby who’s now staring at you, anyway.

luckily, you don’t get to stand there—awkward as shit—for a second longer because one of the receptionists hurries over to where you’re positioned.

the lady beams at you. “good afternoon—”

“hi,” you supply, “i was just—”

“y/n, right?”

crap. “uh, yes.”

her grin widens. “you’re just in time! bakugou-san just clocked out.”

“oh, i wasn’t—”

“y/n?”

the two of you whip to look at the back of the large room, and sure enough, the owner of the increasingly familiar gruff voice is looking right at you, just as shocked at you being here as you are.

you can only watch him—in all his regularly clothed, duffel bag-carrying glory—as he briskly walks towards where you are.

a waft of his heady perfume hits you just as he arrives at your side. “what are you doing here?”

what the fuck are you supposed to say? “i, uh—”

“she must’ve come to visit you, sir,” the receptionist pipes up chirpily.

at that, bakugou regards her with a look—one that says, do you mind? and you guess he must use that a lot around here, because she snaps her mouth closed in an instant, and bows before retreating to her spot behind the counter.

you keep your eyes trained on the woman as she scurries, wishing the ground would swallow you up before you’re forced to look at the pro-hero. but then he says your name again, and your head creaks to face him as if it’s got a mind of its own, its automaticity akin to that of vines winding to get the smallest peek at the sun.

“well?” he demands, brow raised in waiting.

“i was just going home and noticed your building was on the way,” you answer truthfully, a tad bit embarrassed. you shouldn’t have stopped and let your curiosity get the better of you.

he studies you for a second longer before his gaze drops to the things you’re carrying. “you were walking home? with those?”

“yeah…” you respond, voice small. “don’t worry, they’re not that heavy,” you lie.

and before he can call you out on your deceit, you throw the question back at him. “how ‘bout you?”

the second it tumbles off your lips, you knew it was fucking stupid.

“…i work here?”

there it is. in a last-ditch effort to save face, you let out a laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. he narrows his eyes at you, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the man was amused.

“let me drive you home,” he offers out of the blue, you almost choke.

“what? no, i’m okay.”

“your shoulders are about to give out,” he says pointedly. “don’t be fucking stubborn.”

“seriously, i’m alright,” you insist, and he sighs. you turn it right back at him, “don’t you have somewhere to be? you’re actually leaving early for once.”

and strangely enough, he is. from the few weeks of knowing knowing him, you’ve learned that the man puts in overtime almost every single day, which has been one of the reasons why your hangouts were always scheduled on the weekends.

“‘m visiting my parents,” comes his curt reply.

you beam at him. it’s funny how picturing this hulking brute of a man as his parents’ son makes you feel warm. “that’s so nice of you.”

“‘s nothing,” he dismisses, before: “they’ve been asking about you, you know.”

“me?” you repeat lamely. “what about me?”

he shrugs. “just basic information about you, how we’re doing, and all that crap…”

and when you don’t say anything, he just goes straight for it. “they want you to visit.”

you gape at him.

“but don’t be pressured, and shit,” he backtracks. “i know that’s a tall order.”

huh.

“…i’ll think about it,” you eventually offer with a nod. and you will—later. when you’ve got your wits about you. but for now, you hastily go through your bags and pick out the thing.

“here,” you say, just as you thrust the small bouquet of orange tulips toward him. “give these to your mom. or dad. or both, really.”

his eyes dart between you and the flowers and then back at you again. great, you think to yourself. you’ve successfully rendered the man speechless.

“take it,” you assert after a moment. “they’re better off in you guys’ hands, anyway.”

he examines them for another while, before he finally takes them off your hands.

“thanks.”

you only smile at him. to your pleasant surprise, he flashes a small one back.

(9:06 pm) bakugou katsuki: i’d tell you to check the news but i know it’ll take you a century. i’m at 6th now.

the drowsiness that was just clouding your brain wards off like smoke that’s being fanned away. you sit up on your couch, rubbing your eyes with one hand while you type out a response with the other.

(9:07 pm) you: ha. and congrats!!! that’s great to hear 🥳

you barely get to adjust your butt’s position when a notification pops in.

(9:07 pm) bakugou katsuki: thanks. and my parents loved it, just so you know. the old hag especially.

you smile. another message.

(9:08 pm) bakugou katsuki: she wants you to come over for dinner this weekend.

your face falls. shit. you didn’t see this coming.

(9:09 pm) you: so soon?

your default ringtone resounds across your one-bedroom unit.

(9:09 pm) bakugou katsuki: she’s in a rush. say no if you don’t want to.

you pause, suddenly acutely aware of the guilt that’s stewing in the pit of your stomach. is deceiving his parents necessary, when all you need is to put on an act for the general public? still, bakugou did say his mother was in a rush. maybe he just got sick of her insistent nagging.

you take a sharp inhale.

(9:12 pm) you: i’m down 🫡

and just because there’s nothing more fun than pulling at his leg:

(9:12 pm) you: …granted i’ll get paid for it 😊

ping.

(9:13 pm) bakugou katsuki: you and your greedy ass. fine.

“and so that’s how i got masaru here to say yes to a date!”

you laugh as mitsuki loops an arm around the shoulder of the brunette sitting beside her, who only chuckles to himself, a faint pink sitting high on his cheeks. you chance a glance at bakugou, and sure enough, he’s rolling his eyes at his mother’s finishing line.

“what?” he quips defensively when you toss him a pointed look. “i’ve heard this story a million times.”

“and you’re gonna hear it again, tsuki,” mitsuki replies unapologetically.

bakugou only groans as you smile at the couple from across the table. “i think that was an excellent story, mitsuki-san.”

“thank you, y/n. but enough about us!” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, and you feel your stomach drop. “how ‘bout you two, huh? what’s the deal?”

“the deal is you’re being nosy as fuck,” comes bakugou’s snappy retort.

“come on, katsuki,” masaru implores, a playful lilt in his tone. “we’d love to hear about how things are going between the two of you.”

“is the press being all up in your ass?” mitsuki demands, “because i can tell them to fuck off if you need me to.”

“sure, if you want to fucking embarrass me.”

“you know what, i’d actually love to do that.”

“fucking hag—”

you worriedly watch the two ash blondes as they go at each other’s throats, before you look at masaru for help. he only shoots you a meek albeit unalarmed expression, which is enough to tell you this isn’t an uncommon occurrence in the bakugou household. thankfully, though, they calm down after a beat, opting to glare daggers at each other instead.

“to answer your question, mitsuki-san,” you take the gamble and interject, and everybody whips to look at you, “they’re being quite harmless. you know, minus all the circulating information about my life.”

at that, mitsuki’s joyful countenance morphs into one of sorriness. “i’m afraid that’s part of having a soulmate with a high profile, dear. it doesn’t help that you were being filmed when you both found out.”

“yeah, well, there’s not much we can do about it,” you offer with a genuine smile.

“is that why you’re just leaning into it?” asks masaru. “hanging out in public and all?”

“uh—”

“obviously,” bakugou cuts you off. you turn to look at him, stunned, before shifting back to face the couple.

“uh, yes,” you continue, “we figured there wasn’t any point in hiding anymore.”

that seems to perk mitsuki up. “hide what, tsuki?”

and when neither of you says anything: “are you trying to tell us something?”

you sneak a glance at bakugou, only to find him already looking at you. you stare at each other for what feels like a minute short of forever, before he breaks eye contact and cooly says the next thing.

says the next thing while simultaneously pulling the rug from under your feet.

“we’re dating,” he declares, and you sit there, witnessing his parents’ eyes bug out in surprise, hoping yours aren’t betraying the very same emotion you’re feeling right now.

“really?”

“oh my god! since when?”

bakugou huffs, practically exuding annoyance. “yes, and just recently. end of discussion.”

masaru laughs in delight while mitsuki pouts, although you can tell she’s fighting off a grin.

“and here we thought you were gonna die alone, tsuki,” masaru jokes.

“shitty fucking—”

“no, but seriously,” interrupts mitsuki, “i was getting nervous, katsuki. what with my diagnosis, i thought i’d never get to see you be happy with someone.”

you pause, looking at the man beside you. “diagnosis?”

“oh! he didn’t tell you?” mitsuki queries, tone laced with worry. “i don’t mean to be a party pooper, but i just got diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer a few months ago.”

shit. “i’m so sorry, mitsuki-san—”

the woman waves you off, a beautiful smile adorning her familiar features. “don’t be, dear. the doctor says the outlook is good as long as i strictly adhere to treatment.”

despite that, you can’t help but frown. “how are you feeling these days?”

“i’m good!” she supplies cheerfully. “masaru and i have been spending more quality time together, and katsuki’s been visiting more often. and of course, you being here is an added bonus.”

you toss the woman a grateful look, which she returns generously. mitsuki talks some more about it before shifting the conversation back to less depressing territories, like what bakugou was like growing up and her and masaru’s plans for retirement. eventually, minutes turned into a few hours, and came the time to go home. you profusely thank the couple as you begin to head outside, while bakugou steps out to his porsche to get the engine started.

“i’ll be hoping for your speedy recovery, mitsuki-san,” you say as you step out onto their front porch.

“thanks, dear. and i’ll be hoping that things go well between you and katsuki, okay?”

you force a smile on your face and the words out of your mouth. “i hope so, too.”

the air is tense between you and bakugou as you step out of his car at your complex’s parking lot, then through the doors at the guarded entrance, and even during the elevator ride up to your floor.

neither of you says a word the entire time, sharing only a few nods and glances with you leading the way. you were fully expecting him to just drive off the second you got out of his pristine vehicle, but he ended up exiting with you and following your trail like a shadow.

thankfully, not many people are still around to see you in the lobby or on your floor, even if it’s still 9-ish on a saturday. you both were all for being spotted together, but maybe being seen at either of your residences will cause more trouble than help. you are about to say this to break the ice when you arrive at the end of the hallway and in front of your unit, but bakugou beats you to it.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you.”

you freeze, blinking at him. “didn’t tell me what?”

he sighs, and suddenly the lines that you were convinced weren’t on his face a second ago are now evident—along with the exhaustion that’s carved right into it. “that my mom has cancer.”

you frown. “there’s nothing to apologize for, bakugou. you’re not obligated to tell me.”

“still,” he insists, seemingly growing more tired by the moment. “it blindsided you, hearing it from her. i should’ve just told you earlier.”

“maybe,” you admit, “but i understand your apprehension.”

he grumbles, but doesn’t reply. you decide to just go for it.

“can i ask you something?”

he looks up from where he was staring at the off-white tiled floor, expectant. “what?”

“is she part of the reason?” you begin, treading carefully. “why you wanted to put up appearances?”

he stares at you for a beat, perhaps a beat too long because you find yourself slowly regretting bringing up the query in the first place. you are about to backtrack and apologize for asking when, to your surprise, he nods.

ever so slightly that it’s almost imperceptible, but enough of a motion for you to see it.

“i just wanted to seem like i’m putting myself out there,” he mutters, “just in case something happens.”

you nod, ignoring the way your heart is stinging at his sincerity just now.

“she’s always been on my ass about finding someone, but then things happened and you showed up, and i figured why not just hit two birds with one stone, or some shit.”

a pause.

“personally i wouldn’t want to be the stone hitting not just one but two poor birds, but i get it.”

that must’ve caught him off guard, because bakugou snorts. you grin at him when he snickers and calls you stupid under his breath, the atmosphere taking a vastly lighter turn.

now, you didn’t notice it before—much like how you didn’t notice his agency’s building being part of your regular route to the mall—but bakugou has a dimple. a tiny one. and similar to his nod from a short while ago, it’s a subtle little thing, but it’s there—especially now that he’s smiling.

and right next to his dimple are his lips.

which are looking ungodly moisturized compared to your undoubtedly chapped ones.

wait.

your eyes shoot up from his lips to his eyes, a tidal wave of equal parts shame and humiliation ready to crash over your entire, pathetic body. but just as it is about to metaphorically collide with your frame, it freezes—just as you do.

because you catch him—and no matter how much he might try to deny it, you saw it with your own two eyes.

he was staring at your lips.

but apparently denying it isn’t part of his agenda for the night, because he does the exact fucking opposite.

he dives in and presses his lips onto yours.

and you were right—they are sinfully soft, even if you haven’t seen him apply lip balm in the handful of instances you hung out.

and as far as you can remember, this is the last coherent thought that crosses your mind, because the next few minutes go by like a blur. you vaguely recall him pulling away and looking straight at you, as if waiting for a reaction, before leaning right back in when you pull him closer by his shirt. what you don’t remember is who opens the door or how you manage to use your keys without breaking the momentum, but you magically do, just as magically as how fast clothes are shed on the way to your bed.

you recall him eagerly towering over you as your back hit the soft sheets of your mattress, as well as the honest admission of his inexperience yet willingness to learn against your neck. you remember guiding him, telling him how to touch you and the right places to do so—where to rub and lick and thrust not just his fingers to drive you over the edge.

and he does—drive you over the edge. over and over and over that you lost count. and you equally returned the favor, shocked at your own desperation and unusual determination to make him feel good. you recall his being vocal—which you loved, if the incessant wetness between your thighs that lasted the entire night was any indication. you don’t remember when you finished for the last time—when you both crashed out from sheer exhaustion.

but it eventually happened—otherwise, you wouldn’t be laying here, naked under the covers, with a sleeping bakugou illuminated by the sunlight peeking through your black-out curtains.

this wasn’t part of the plan.

the whole pretending to be amicable soulmates plan, sure. but perhaps more importantly, your short-term plan that consists of…well, today and tomorrow.

the last thing you need is to actually be tethered to a person this late in the game.

still, and despite the palpable regret that sits heavy on your chest—the one that’s very bare at the moment albeit concealed under your freshly-washed blanket—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want it. besides, you don’t have anything else to blame for your behavior last night other than your own free will.

but why do you still feel so empty?

“you okay?”

ripped out of your stupor, you whip to look to your left, and you don’t know who else you were expecting, but your eyes still widen in surprise when you see a naked bakugou, slightly propped up by his two elbows that strain under his hefty weight. unable to sustain his gaze, you keep your line of vision trained on this one vein that runs along the length of his arm as you merely nod in response.

unsurprisingly, he doesn’t take that for an answer.

“i’m not asking again,” he warns, and your eyes shoot up to meet his in disbelief.

the words are out before you can rein them in. “are you always this mouthy even in the morning?”

“i’m not a morning person,” he simply spits back, as if that’s enough of an explanation in itself.

you furrow your brows at him, having half a mind to lock in on this staredown until the fluid in your eyes dries out and you finally, finally die (or go blind, whichever comes first), but then just as quickly as it possessed you with his challenge, the fight within you dies out, leaving your body limp with numbness and fatigue. you break eye contact when it happens, shaking your head in resignation.

you settle with: “it’s nothing,” and blindly hope he leaves it at that.

“‘s not nothing if it’s clearly bothering you,” he retorts to your chagrin.

“i don’t want to be embarrassingly vulnerable if it’ll make you uncomfortable.”

at that, he scoffs. “we fucked. multiple times last night. it can’t get any more vulnerable than that.”

you flush at his brazenness. “yeah, well, that’s the thing. we…you know,” you lower your voice for the next bit, “had sex, and now the lines are getting blurry and it’s all confusing.”

and when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you tie your spiel with a mangled bow. “i told you it was gonna be embarrassing for me.”

that seems to rub him off the wrong way, because his nose flares in irritation. “why’re you talking like i’m some cold ass fuckboy? i told you, didn’t i? there’s nothing fucking casual about me.”

“i didn’t mean it like—”

“let me talk first,” he commands, and you shut up.

he sighs when you do, letting his head droop between his shoulders. “i don’t regret it, but if you do, then i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have made a move.”

you sit up from where you were lying down, the motion causing him to look up and at you as you shake your head, “don’t apologize, bakugou. it’s just…”

you trail off, weighing on what you can and cannot say.

“it’s just what?” he prods.

you let out a long exhale. “it’s just things are a bit…complicated, to say the least.”

that makes the pro-hero frown, but he doesn’t get to push you to expound on it because a booming voice erupts throughout the room, entirely juxtaposing the earlier quiet. you startle, then ease up when you realize it’s all might’s, and that it’s merely a ringtone. bakugou scrambles out of bed to fetch his phone, and you manage to look away just in time to avoid catching a glimpse of his massive dick.

which, after last night, is really just for courtesy purposes at this point.

thankfully, you don’t have to stare at the ceiling for too long because he retrieves it in record time, before hurriedly crawling back and flinging the covers on top of his lower half.

he eyes you as he brings the device up to his ear and speaks into it. “what is it, nerd?”

you strain to listen in on the voice at the other end, but you barely manage to pick up on a few words. you resort to observing bakugou’s facial expressions instead.

“cut to the chase,” he spews, and you find yourself feeling bad for the other person. “i’m busy right now.”

you watch as bakugou listens to the “nerd’s” reply, stiffening when the pro-hero curses under his breath.

“it’s next weekend? why’d you have to book it this early, then?”

was he planning to meet this person somewhere?

“shit. fine, i’ll ask her.”

you don’t even get to wonder who her is before bakugou swiftly brings his other hand up to cover the microphone, regarding you straight-up.

“shitty deku and round cheeks want to hang out next weekend,” he explains, slightly hesitant, before: “you up for that?”

you make a quick survey of bakugou’s face. can you even say no, at this point? technically, you can, but an inkling deep inside you points at your needing a distraction, because otherwise…

otherwise…

no, now’s not the time for that.

instead, you nod, forcing a smile on your lips. “i’ll go.”

bakugou stares at you for a beat, gaze borderline scrutinizing it makes you uneasy. but then he nods, and you find yourself taking a sharp breath as he goes back to his phone call.

“we’re in.”

“once again, serving time will be 15 to 20 minutes, and i’m haruhi, your server for this evening.”

you collectively thank the waitress as she beams at the four of you while serving your glasses of water, before turning around to return to the kitchen.

“this restaurant’s really hard to get into, you know,” shares midoriya when the girl is out of earshot, catching your attention. “but i heard their katsudon is really, really good, so i worked hard to get us a reservation.”

“worked hard, my ass,” sneers bakugou without missing a beat. “you pulled some strings. i recognize the owner, he’s the father of one of your top students.”

“kacchan—”

“don’t tease him, bakugou,” the brunette interjects, an adorable pout etched on her pretty face. “i was with him, he was on the phone for thirty minutes with the receptionist begging for a slot.”

“and you two are begging to be teased,” comes bakugou’s snarky quip. “quit it with the whole defending him, would ya?”

you fail to stop the smile that invades your lips as the new couple blush at bakugou’s remark, an unmistakable tinge of pink flooding both of their cheeks.

“if it’s okay to ask,” you start, tamping down the shyness that looms in when the two across you regard you pleasantly, “how long have you been dating?”

“uh, about three months, right, izuku?” uraraka replies quietly, the pink from earlier now blossoming into a more apparent red as she looks at the man.

“y-yes, three months,” confirms the greenhead.

from where he’s seated to your left, bakugou snorts. “it’s been a long time coming, if you ask me.”

“you make it sound so simple, bakugou,” counters uraraka, before shifting to face you. “it really wasn’t easy to get to this point, y/n. i’m not sure if bakugou’s told you, but we went through a lot in ua and even after that, which made entertaining anything beyond hero work impossible. plus,” she adds timidly, “there’s this whole soulmate situation on top of everything.”

curious, you ask. “what soulmate situation?”

and, as if they’ve gone through these motions countless times before, both midoriya and uraraka lift up their right wrists and thrust them forward for you to see. you lean forward to get a better view.

you look at midoriya’s first. his looks just like yours before you met bakugou a little over a month ago—opaque and conveniently set at zero. you then glance at uraraka’s, but to your surprise, hers looks different. a huge number is written on her flesh…

but it’s static and greyed out.

you look up at the woman, confused, and she’s quick to explain. “my soulmate died a few years ago.”

she shrugs, “and izuku’s…well, he’s never heard of them.”

“not that we wouldn’t be with each other if they were both around,” clarifies midoriya, who says it so quickly he almost stumbles over his words. “it’s just that because of these circumstances, our relationship is a bit…unconventional.”

“i understand,” you promptly reply with the most gracious expression you can muster. uraraka shoots you a grateful look, while midoriya bashfully scratches at his head.

you sense bakugou’s gaze on you through your periphery, but you ignore it.

you wouldn’t be able to hold it, anyway.

“it’s romantic, isn’t it?”

you round the corner, careful not to brush against bakugou when he does the same to your left. a sigh of relief threatens to wrack over the entirety of your frame when you’re met with the sight of the familiar-looking street, brightly illuminated by an array of streetlights dotting the entire length of it.

“what,” he says more than asks, effortlessly keeping up with your pace with his long strides.

you take a fleeting glance at him, before shifting your attention back to the pavement in front of you. “midoriya and uraraka, and how they chose each other.”

“i guess…” he responds, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “but i’ve always seen it from lightyears away.”

you pause, although you’re quick to step back into your rhythmic walking. “really?”

“they’ve always had each other’s backs even before ua,” he explains. “it’s creepy how similar they are to each other, too. it’d be weird if they didn’t end up together.”

he says it so seriously you can’t help but laugh. you catch him looking at you, smirking. “you’ve got an interesting way with words, bakugou.”

“sue me.”

you, in fact, don’t sue him, but you do unleash a cutting wisecrack in his direction, which he counters with his, and this goes on and on without pause that you don’t even notice you’ve already arrived at the front of your condominium unit until he points it out.

and as the weighty realization of this dawns on you, so do the memories of what happened when you were last here together. you rush to suppress them, and pick up the conversation from where you left off.

“i don’t know about you,” you quip, tossing him a grin, “but i take comfort in the fact that people can find someone beyond their designated soulmates.”

to your dismay, albeit somewhat unsurprisingly, bakugou doesn’t return it—the grin nor the sentiment, apparently—because he only stares at you weirdly, like you just said something…off.

great, you think to yourself. now you’ve ruined it.

might as well ruin it even further at this point, right?

finally, and to your brain’s relief, you let the damned grin fall off your face, let your shoulders sag from the strenuous effort to seem tall and confident for the last few hours, and you heave a heavy, heavy sigh. you sense bakugou stiffen at your palpable change in demeanor, but you pay it no mind.

“look,” you start, willing yourself to look up to meet his eyes, which you instantly regret because now they’re laced with obvious concern. still, you press on and gulp. “i didn’t want to do this, but i guess i have no choice now, do i?”

“what are you—”

“i know things are weird right now, and i just had to go ahead and start catching feelings like a lunatic, but i—”

you trail off, uncertain, before deciding fuck it. “this can’t go on, bakugou.”

the second you let the words out, you can only watch with anticipatory dread as a million emotions dance across his features. you stand there as he opens his mouth, before closing them, and then opening them again, although nothing comes out.

what seems like an eternity passes before he finally gets something out.

“…why?”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it’s because i’m sick.”

there.

but then he says something that completely throws you off balance.

“i know.”

you feel your eyes widen in surprise as he diverts his gaze. “what? how?”

“i—” he starts, reluctant, before: “i noticed.”

instantly, you flame in embarrassment. you thought you had this whole masking thing pinned the fuck down. and all this time you hadn’t?

you must’ve looked distraught at his admission, because he swiftly tries to soothe you. “don’t hide,” he says, and only then do you realize you’re shrinking in yourself like you do when you want to disappear. he frowns, “the last thing you need to be is fucking ashamed.”

at that, and despite yourself, you snort. you don’t have the heart to tell him you can’t remember the last time you felt shame over your condition from how long it’s just been there—an unwavering part of your life. still, you force a reply. “thanks.”

and before he can say anything uselessly placating that’ll only chip away at the very little you have left, you beat him to it. “i should head inside.”

“but—”

“good night, bakugou.”

and just like that, you spin on your heel, open the door with your keys, and close it shut in his face.

the conversation from earlier wouldn’t leave his head.

even as he tosses and turns on top of his king-sized mattress, and even as the clock ticks past the usual, strict bedtime he’s set for himself as early as high school, he finds himself wide awake, his steady heartbeat the only thing that’s breaking the monotonous quiet of his lonely bedroom.

so much happened in the course of the few minutes in front of your place, that while he prides himself in his acuity and general sharpness, he admits even he couldn’t have responded the way he should have despite desperately wanting to.

which fucking reminds him.

he didn’t get to say he likes you back.

he was so wrapped up in you implicitly trashing your soulmate connection, as well as you calling it quits that he barely registered your hasty confession. not when you immediately followed it up with an acknowledgment of what’s been causing you pain.

and as he stares at the dimly lit ceiling of his room, bakugou arrives at a pivotal realization—his feelings should be the least of your worries.

but that doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve to know.

so with a renewed sense of determination, the pro-hero promptly sits up and reaches for the phone that’s perched idly on his nightstand. 10:07 pm, it reads. you should still be awake by now.

he types out a message.

(10:08 pm) me: you awake? can i call you?

he presses the send button before he can back out of it.

what feels like five minutes pass without a single chime emanating from his phone, at which point he finally allows himself to let the anxiety creep up his neck. he stares at your caller id, debating whether or not you’d get mad if he just went ahead and called you.

eventually, and after five more minutes, bakugou decides he’d rather face your wrath than deal with his own regret.

so he calls you. once, no answer. second attempt, sent straight to voicemail. third, fourth, and fifth, and that’s when a ghastly chill envelopes him.

it couldn’t be.

still, with bated breath and immense dread pooling in his stomach, he slowly lifts his right wrist to check.

only to find that the timer has stopped.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

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[gay-dorito-dust]

I’d die for you.

Viktor:

‘I’d die for you.’

‘Please don’t.’ He says almost pleading with you to reconsider after hearing you say such a thing, to be willing to trade off your own life for his own that was already on borrowed time, so wouldn’t your sacrifice be a waste if he was bound to die regardless?

He came from the undercity where loss was an constant occurrence and survival was the norm. So the idea of loosing you wasn’t one he’d warmly welcome nor want to endure as he’d only bury himself deep within his work, going to such lengths with the off chance that he could theoretically bring you back from the cold embrace of death,

‘You’ve got so much ahead of you Viktor.’ You countered. ‘So much to do to achieve your goal of helping others!’ You add.

Viktor moves to look at you from his workplace with a raised brow. ‘And so you automatically think your life is forfeit in comparison because of this?’ He asks as if to show you just how ridiculous it was to just throw your life away because you believed his dreams for the future outweighed the worth of that of your own life.

You stayed quiet as you could see the disbelief clear within his amber eyes as he grabbed his cane and made his way over to you to hold your hand in his long, slender and calloused ones as they caress the back of your knuckles. ‘For it’s not. No life is more important than the others solely based on what the person can give to others.’ Viktor tells you as sits himself down next to you.

‘Our lives are of equal value and I’d would much rather you’d live for me instead.’ He says with a small smile. ‘Do you think you can do that for me?’ He then asks softly, intertwining your fingers together. You smiled back at him. ‘I can sure try as long as you do too.’ You replied and Viktor let out a sigh of relief, squeezing your hand in thanks.

‘Then we shall live for each other.’ Viktor said but little did you know that he’d be lying and he wasn’t going to be staying very soon.

Ekko:

‘I’d gladly die for you.’

‘No, you wont.’ Those words might’ve come out more harsher than Ekko wanted but he wasn’t about to let you joke about trading your life for his own. He just wouldn’t.

Even now the idea of you being the self sacrificial hero made him feel slightly sick to his stomach. He was the one who should be protecting you, protecting everybody really and once his mind was made up Ekko was more or less an immovable object, never yielding and never budging from his ideals for nothing.

So to say he wasn’t liking the idea of you dying on him was an understatement. He didn’t like it for a plethora of reasons as he’s already lost enough people close to his heart, he wasn’t willing to have you be amongst them, painted on the mural by his own hand as he feels the guilt and grief eat away at his heart. ‘Promise me you won’t be reckless the next time we’re out on a mission.’ He gives you his pinky, something you two did when you were being serious about things.

‘Ekko-‘

‘Promise me you won’t.’ Ekko cuts you off in desperation, his eyes wide and his breathing becoming rapid and uneven the longer you didn’t immediately link pinkies with him like you usually did, it had him feeling as though his heart had dropped to his stomach. ‘I don’t want to loose another person I love.’ He adds and you interlock your pinkies with him before being pulled into his strong embrace where he buried his face into yours neck, not wanting to let go of you after hearing that statement leave your mouth.

‘I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet.’ He whispered into your neck, grip tightening on you as he feels you rub his back soothingly. Ekko wasn’t ready for the day he’d have to say goodbye to you and so until that day he’ll keep protecting you until he couldn’t anymore, for he’d rather see you move on forward without him, but if he knew you as well as he did then you would just be equally as stubborn to see him live another day.

So he’ll just keep ahold of you like this everyday when you were alone just to remind himself that you were still here and here you will stay.

Silco (young) :

‘I’d die for you.’

‘Don’t say such things, haven’t we suffered enough?’ He’d say as he has you by your shoulders, his grip tightening in tandem with the idea of possibly loosing you to all sorts of things, whether it’d be Zaun or the corrupt enforcers from topside. Silco wasn’t exactly willing to lose the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

It was a day he’d never wish to see pass him by as he didn’t know what he would do should he find you dead in the rubble from a something that was purposely intended for him, he’d blame himself and be left to seek solitude in the darkness and shadows should that ever be the case.

‘But it’s true.’ You’d reply.

Silco grits his teeth at your stubbornness but it was one of your defining traits that he deeply adored. ‘Well I’m not going to allow it.’ He retorted. ‘I won’t allow you to hastily throw your life away just because you felt like being a hero.’ He practically spat out the last part as though it were poison. Hero what the hell has being a hero ever done for anyone? Nothing that’s what and Silco would refused you at every time you got like this, not once liking the implications it left within his head.

‘Not a hero, just someone who cares enough about another person to be willing to see them keep living, even if it means dying in the process.’ You defended yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued to look him in the eyes to prove your words true, but you didn’t need to do that for Silco knew well enough you were a person of your word, never once going back on it when you probably should’ve.

‘Heroes don’t exist in Zaun.’ Silco said as he rests his head against yours, looking you in the eyes. ‘So don’t try and be the first for I don’t want to be the one to make your mural. Don’t make me have to leave you behind. Don’t make me mourn for what we could’ve had.’ He pleads with you as you gently hold his face and caress his cheeks, allowing him the chance to rest his eyes and drink you in through your touch.

He didn’t like the idea of you dying before him, not one bit, so he’ll try and make sure that you survive together long enough to see the betterment of Zaun.