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asset35-maya · 3 years ago

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I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

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memryse · 3 years ago

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Third Life Duos Edition Three: C(r)astle But No Monarchy?

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS i have been very busy with uni and i want to give them the justice they deserve. so here we are!! i’d also like to preface this by saying i have only watched cleo’s pov from this duo, not bdubs’ yet, so i can’t comment on him in quite as much detail and i also haven’t seen the crastle’s session five since cleo’s footage got messed up for it (i think bdubs is next on my list? i’ve been more preoccupied with empires lately though so i haven’t gotten around to it)

the first thing that always stands out to me about the crastle people is that they get lumped in as a red/green life duo, but they really never were that, because bdubs turned red right at the end of session five and then wasn’t in session six, which is when cleo turned yellow. they’re a very iconic duo, but i would consider them much more equals than the red/green life duos.

and they always were equals, together right from the very beginning. it wasn’t an alliance of convenience or mutual benefit or anything of the sort - just two friends, who spawned with each other and stuck with each other. while it might seem like they’re opposites - tired babysitter cleo and excitable red life bdubs, the same kind of formula that grian and scar are often slotted into - cleo and bdubs are more like two idiots who possess one (1) braincell between them, which is used exclusively for plotting various dastardly acts.

they’re actually a hilarious duo to me because they had great ideas with the building of the crastle. fortified with a moat + magma blocks, only one point of entry, the archer slits in the walls? but then with literally... anything else their brains just go out of the windows. and i love that.

but back to talking about their relationship and development, what stuck out to me the most about them was bdubs’ attitude towards losing his lives. green life? everything’s great, they’re friends having a great time and building their tiny castle. yellow life? suddenly, the paranoia sets in. bdubs is instantly suspicious of cleo trying to get bdubs to turn red - he says he’s scared that she wants him to die so that she can “use [him] as a tool” and order him to kill people. and that is incredibly interesting to me, because red lives do not have to be bound by alliances if they don’t want to be. if bdubs were to turn red, he doesn’t have to listen to her orders. if anything it’s the exact reverse, the red life would be able to order around a green life, as we saw with both the desert duo and renchanting duo. which suggests to me that even in the midst of the paranoia of suddenly being a fresh yellow life, bdubs never even considered the possibility of betraying cleo. their alliance to one another was that strong.

this loyalty holds strong for the entire rest of the series. but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t develop! firstly, we see bdubs lose that paranoia towards cleo - in fact he grows to relish the idea of becoming cleo’s weapon. he’s happy about it! which i think stems from two places: first, he’s practically frothing at the mouth for revenge against the sand people, and he absolutely needs cleo’s direction on what to do with all of this anger he suddenly has. secondly, there’s a server-wide perception that the crastle is one of the weaker factions on the server (or at least bdubs wasn’t being taken seriously, everyone was definitely rightfully scared of cleo). the crastle needed a red life to pose a proper threat - what good are harming arrow crossbows if they have to wait for someone to attack them first? so bdubs is happy to make the sacrifice and turn red.

cleo, on the other hand, remains fairly static in terms of her regard for life (hers and others’). she’s impulsive. she starts off her series stealing a llama and hiding it just because she can, the middle of her series she’s doing arson, she ends her series attempting to take ren out in an ambush. losing her life was more of an “if it happens, it happens” deal. what changes is her attitude to other people. she’s friendly to everyone at first. then becomes more closed-off, more distrustful - presumably stemming from things like etho just showing up and attacking their castle. she doesn’t trust impulse (...does anyone?). but eventually, she develops a real fondness for tango, for scott, and she’ll put her life on the line for more than just bdubs eventually. but not quite as willingly.

like i said, the crastle people’s dynamic doesn’t change all that much throughout the series - it’s their individual actions that are fun to analyse; just look at how cleo acts during the session where bdubs isn’t there, for example, and how they bicker about it the next session. if anything, these solo actions complement their dynamic as a duo, and really highlight how it was the two of them against the world, from the very beginning. nobody else was afforded this loyalty. look how easily bdubs betrayed impulse. bdubs and cleo’s loyalty to one another was unmatched.

“bdubs is my ride or die. that’s it. if he kills me, then i will go out as an honest person.”

and i will leave you with that.

----

bonus fun fact: everyone knows about the zombie siege of dogwarts the night cleo died but i want to talk about it anyway because it is like. definitely a top 5 3rd life moment. potentially even top 3

bonus fun fact 2: in bdubs’ first episode, he talks about everyone being on good terms and not being against each other yet whilst stood directly on the hill above the lake where scar took his final life. somebody on twitter pointed this out but i did go and check this specific moment myself

bonus fun fact 3 cause i gotta add one every time i guess: that lake? yeah that one where scar also asked grian to kill him? it is directly next to grian’s original base, the one he abandoned to join scar. it is also on the other side of a hill from the day one alliance base, you know, the one involving scar and bdubs. oh 3rd life. you make me so very sad.

#3rd life #3rd life smp #trafficblr #zombiecleo #bdoubleo100 #team crastle #mae analyses #ask #grian #scott smajor #impulsesv #tangotek #goodtimeswithscar #<-- tagged bc they are mentioned in the post occasionally

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pen-observing · 4 years ago

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I recently finished my fic in which Diavolo cheats on MC so it got me thinking; and someone was speculating which bro MC should move on with. So that is where this came from. You can tell how I started with big brain time but then my one brain cell remained at the end.

How the brothers react/pursue you after Diavolo cheats on you while married:

Lucifer:

He has had internal questions about what his own loyalty meant and represented. After all, he values it the most. He begins to question what it means to have sworn loyalty to the man who could not even be loyal to his spouse- to you.

As a friend he; does not let Diavolo rest and he judges him outwardly, but as a right-hand man; he knows that Diavolo’s ability to rule is unquestionable

Lucifer will not ask for understanding from you but he hopes you have it

He hopes you know that he can simultaneously judge the man while helping him care for the Devildom

In fact, you both have to be mature about this

Lucifer lets you go through all the emotions in front of him, in the privacy of the house. It is his way of showing you what true pride means. Why should Diavolo or other citizens see you suffering over an unfaithful man?

He tries to make your life as easy as possible. Your room is clean, everything is in order even If in a fit of anger, you leave it differently. You do not have to cook; you don’t really have to do anything besides get better. He would take on your work despite the obligations he has.

If Diavolo comes for business to the House, Lucifer will make sure you are far away and protected

He treats you oh so gently, as gently as he can

And through that gentleness and care- emotions rise and turn into something more

At first, your relationship is built in privacy.

The love, however, cannot be hidden from his brothers so they are the only ones who know

The Devildom is a cruel place; what would they say about Lucifer and you? Diavolo’s right hand man with Diavolo’s ex-spouse? Must have been an affair. They would claim you were the one who cheated

From that worry it remains private for quite some time.

However, there comes a point where privacy and secrecy become blurred.

Knowing that neither of you wanted secrecy just privacy, makes you both realize that there is no reason to hide something which developed so naturally.

So, when the next ball comes, you don’t shy away from dancing together even as Diavolo and the entire Devildom watches.

Mammon:

In my humble opinion, the best one for this situation, listen listen- I will explain

Why?

Mammon does not shy away from expressing distaste and hate towards Diavolo for you. He has no obligations, he hasn’t sworn loyalty to him, he hasn’t really gotten on his nerves before so he is completely free

As the second brother he can openly tell Diavolo what he thinks (Lucifer makes sure it doesn’t get out of hand) and Diavolo can’t really claim that he hasn’t cheated on you so Mammon has the upper hand in a weird way.

But here is the biggest reason

Mammon’s loyalty and his feelings for you are something you will never have a chance to doubt

He was your first, he loved you first and he continues to do so

His love washes over you, it never drowns you

He does not leave your side as emotions come washing over you.

He has enough sense to match them as well

Boy practically moves into your room and if sometimes you kick him out so what?

Belphie definitely did not find him guarding your door nor sleeping next to it to make sure you were okay on a particularly bad day

After you heal it only makes sense to love Mammon; the most loyal by choice. The one who helped you heal and made sure you were whole again

He doesn’t even ask for your love- he earns it.

In fact, you don’t even need to have the ‘Oh Great Mammon, what are we?’ convo anyone dreads because it is as obvious as his love from day one

Leviathan:

His mood oh my God okay listen carefully here

Does he feel disgust towards Diavolo? Does he feel anger towards the man? Yes. A lot of it.

Does he still know Diavolo is stronger? Does he think Diavolo is still the most desirable man considering his position, his power and influence? Also yes

He is envious of Diavolo but at the same time he knows that his faithfulness is 100/10

At least that is where Levi finds comfort, a sense of pride and confidence

But what overrides all of those emotions is when he sees how broken and sad you are over the whole thing

He even forgets about Diavolo and tries to do everything he can

Sure, his methods are unorthodox. Bringing you Beel’s big bowl of ice-cream at 3am because he saw it in in anime? This is what humans do right?

Who cares? he risked his life and Beel eating his Ruri-chan figurines for you

He goes on a spree to investigate how to help you and surprisingly, his emotions match yours quite well

You need to rant? Come, he will make up insults with you as well! Henry hears them all! The best place to rant is in front of his tank- It is big, bright, reminds you there is still light but the echo?? The acoustics of the place? Amazing for dramatic displays

You want to cry? Levi is awkward with reacting to such a display but he doesn’t run away from it

He never confronts Diavolo head on but a permanent glare is etched onto his face. Everyone knows what Levi is thinking

He subtweets like crazy

He heard you once say that hitting Diavolo’s face without repercussions would bring immense joy so what does he do? Ta-dah a game where Diavolo is the target and you shoot! Go go!! aim at the fool!

Honestly, Levi does not even think about pursuing you. He does whatever he can to be the Henry, to be the best friend to you.

Your trope is friends to lovers! And the best part is that Levi doesn’t even notice it!

You, absolutely have to be bold and confess to him first

And when you do---good luck trying to keep him from passing out

Satan:

It is a dark and dreadful day when this man finds out what happened.

Why is everything quiet? Why is everyone avoiding him? Did Devildom suddenly become devoid of life? Undead life, sure, but still life?

Satan is wrath but he is also the most composed of his brothers. It is tricky even to tell him because what if he reacts impulsively? Who would save everything in his path?

The way he finds out is what matters here

He is a gentleman, an analytical being who does not miss your body language but he lets you speak anyway

Approach him carefully but do not be afraid of him, please

Be as composed as you can when you tell him that Diavolo cheated on you

Immediately he will go into his Demon for but his eyes are on you

On you, human so much weaker than him who Is holding their own

So as angry as he is; livid. Furious. Seething. He knows that destruction is not the best option. His eyes hold care and worry directed towards you.

Satan realizes he has to meet your maturity if he wishes to help you.

And he does but,,,, he remains petty omg

Satan knows he is slick and sly enough to insult Diavolo any chance he gets without fear of repercussions because ‘he just go big brain time and you can’t punish his petty ways.’

Listen carefully, he has never won in chess against Diavolo but now,, he has the biggest desire to for your sake

On a spur takes you to the human world one day to remind you how resilient humans can be. In a library he starts showing you examples of love stories and how they are relevant to you

‘Satan I really do not think that Cleopatra has anything to do wi-’ ‘Trust me, I will explain it right now.’

In a way, anytime he mentions a human getting over heartbreak he admires you

Does not shy away from expressing it as you gradually move on from Diavolo either

Sometimes, he doesn’t even know how flirty he can be

What? Top 10 love stories in which the main character falls for a charismatic, charming guy after being cheated on? That is pure coincidence

In actuality, Satan makes you blush and feel a connection while you are in the process of moving on

As you heal from Diavolo Satan’s advances get bolder. He is still careful; he wants you to see him as an option but not mix up all of your emotions

Once you are fully over Diavolo, it is impossible not to almost momentarily recognize the feelings Satan has; not to recognize the feelings you have

He will approach you about it first and even if you are cute in denying them, he really doesn’t give any space for lying about them

Asmodeus:

Let us get something straight,,, Asmodeus is the best at picking up on body language

He has incredible empathy and sympathy for you

He notices all the small details and changes and knows how to help you

He can think of so many ways to get your mind off Diavolo it is impressive

But,,,but!

Asmodeus is not stupid.

Asmodeus is careful and calculating

At first, he lets his other brothers console you.

He gives them tips about it too! If they can’t come up with anything Asmo is a fountain of new ideas

It seems like he is there as a plus one to his brothers, it seems like he is avoiding you while still helping you from the shadows

Why?

Asmo is not dumb, Asmo knows what his sin is and what it represents

He is confident but he questions how you would react and treat him after what happened

If he spent more time and payed attention to Diavolo he could have reacted?

What if you blame him for what happened? What if you blame his sin? It is easy to say you blame the sin not Asmo himself but he can never be separated from it

Asmodeus worries about it- to everyone's surprise

So, seek him out. Seek out this hero who doesn’t want any credit for his ideas and comfort. It is his strange way of ‘making up to you’

As soon as Asmo sees you coming to him, and worrying about him despite what you are going through- he knows. He knows you do not separate him from his sin. He knows you don’t blame him in the slightest

So, prepare for the best recovery of your life

It is amazing how Asmo does it. His brothers are envious and amazed at his ability to comfort you and bring a smile to your face.

His ideas now have him involved as well! He is the biggest bonus!

Asmodeus in reality, through everything he does- puts self-love first.

He teaches you, outwardly and inwardly, how to have confidence and how to love yourself. He demands that you never doubt your self-worth.

In a way, while Asmo is openly flirtatious and comfortable, you have to bring it up first in a serious manner if you have fallen in love.

Beelzebub:

Excuse me?

You said what? Diavolo did what?

What happened?

Beelzebub asks a few times because he honestly finds it so hard to believe that Diavolo is not strong when it comes to self-control

He finds it incredibly hard to believe that Diavolo would be stupid to cheat on you?

He is not sly like Satan, he is not aggressive as Mammon, he is not quiet as Levi but he nonchalantly makes it obvious how he feels about what happened. A disinterested Beel at student council meetings, a sharp glare; some unkind words which just slip out.

Belphie is thrilled to see his brother like this but Beel has enough control to realize what truly matters is bringing you peace. How could he do that If he pays attention to Diavolo? Well.

His very presence brings you peace and comfort

Beelzebub knows how to enjoy life in simple aspects.

He doesn’t even try to be flashy to make you feel better

His natural charm, gentleness and warmth is all around you

Just staying next to him, in silence, is enough to make you feel better

Pursing you and pursing a relationship with one another, like all things, is very simple with this boy

Just like everything else

He would never hurt you and he became the best security you could ask for

He almost yeeted a piano at Diavolo when he came to visit Lucifer on business but alas, that is a different story

Belphegor:

He knows what happened. As soon as you walk through the door, he manifests there

Arms crossed; an eyebrow raised

‘I told you so.’

It becomes his favourite sentence

Definitely the tough love kind of friend (Same Belphie I felt that)

Because of this he never lets you forget how much Diavolo sucks

‘How could you trust a man who is afraid of pickles?’ ‘I-I don’t think that has anything to do wi-’ ‘It obviously does.’

He already threatened Diavolo before, he made Diavolo go emo. His sarcasm and snide remarks do not rest

Everything is intensified with this boy

You want to rant about Diavolo? The best. He will rant more than you and even tell you embarrassing stories you didn’t know about the guy

‘One time, he heard about weed and made Barbatos bring it to him. Do you know how embarrassing a gold joint it? Anyway- he thought the Devildom turned into a game and followed Lucifer around for 5 days thinking he was a secret spy.’

Belphegor would make sure you sleep and get enough rest because, according to him, that is where healing starts. He will get your consent to use his powers on you first tho.

In reality, Belphegor is not shy with his advances but they would fly over your head most of the time

After a while he will absolutely confess when he is secure enough that you feel the same

Why? If you like the ‘I have fallen in love and didn’t even realize it until his great romantic gesture’ trope- Belphie is your man.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me hc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #diavolo #cheating #reactions #x reader

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seokjinsonlyone · 4 years ago

Text

Not My Type | 3

pairing: jungkook x female reader

summary: "She's a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful."

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: none; jimin here tho being flirty and stirring the pot <3333

rating: pg

wc: 1.7k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Jungkook’s newfound hobby was driving her crazy. One too many times had their little lunch rendezvous made its way into her mind in the past week. The way he sniffed her hair oddly enough was a recurring playback. She had a thing for weirdos and Jungkook could definitely be classified as that. And, that was exactly why she needed to shut this whole thing down.

Now, she considered herself a progressive individual. She didn’t mind change as long as it was for the better. She didn’t have a problem evolving her relationship with a friend. In fact, she preferred it. Always said that if she was gonna get into it, she wanted to be with a friend. But, this particular friendship wasn’t the one. It wouldn’t make sense. There was no way it could possibly be better.

They were like oil and water. They didn’t mix. Which was fine as a friendship, they could peacefully coexist. Anything more than that, however, would be an unnecessary burden. And, her life didn’t need to be anymore difficult than it already was. She wanted an easy love. It was this line of reasoning that carried her straight to her best friend’s house.

“You need to talk to your friend,” she announced, waltzing into Jimin’s home, throwing her purse on the couch before finding him sitting at the island eating cereal.

He looked up. “I’ve already told you should just ask Taemin out. He’ll most likely say yes. He thinks you’re hot. Stop trying to get me to create scenarios.”

“And, I’ve already told you I refuse to pursue a man. No matter how dreamy and evil he is,” she sighed.

In all honesty, she probably would’ve gone for it if it weren’t for the fact that she could tell he wasn’t really into her. Not in the way she would’ve liked for him to be into her. He flirted with her in person (and in her dms), held her in a way that made her stomach jump after a few drinks, but ultimately his goal was a few nights in the sheets. And, that just wasn’t her thing. She didn’t do casual. Didn’t like to invite people into her life that weren’t going to stay. So even though she thought they could be good together, she was deciding to let this one go. If he couldn’t see what was right in front of him that was on him.

“You’re gonna end up alone.”

“You must realize that I am my favorite person.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about Jungkook.”

“What he do?”

“He’s been acting weird ever since last week.”

“What happened last week?”

She sucked her teeth. “You know, when we were all here?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, pupils shifting from side to side, visibly racking his brain trying to recall what happened at his place last week. “Oh! Wednesday! I was so drunk, bro. What happened?”

“Ugh. You don’t remember asking me to rank all of y’all from most to least my type?” Typical Jimin. Cause trouble then dip.

“What’d you rank me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I ain’t doing this again.”

He dropped his legs from the footrest of the barstool, tugging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Mmm. You couldn’t handle me either way.”

She’s not gonna lie, her heart skipped a beat. But, that’s the only reason he did it in the first place. He knew it flustered her on some level. So, she decided to play along for once, bringing her hand up to toy with the hair that rested at the back of his neck. “Baby boy, I could make you cry,” she whispered seductively.

He made a face, then pushed her away turning his attention back to his cereal. “You’re gross.”

“You started it,” she accused, laughter bubbling up at his reaction. He was CEO of “Do as I say, not as I do.” Always in the mood to dish it out, but hardly able to take it in return.

“So, what’s going on? Why do I need to talk to him?”

“Because I told him he wasn’t my type, and now he’s trying to convince me that he is.”

He choked. “What?”

“He literally showed up at my work the other day and brought me lunch.”

“That was more so directed at you saying Jungkook isn’t your type.”

“He’s not.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking conspiratorially. “He isn’t,” she insisted.

“So, you didn’t used to drool over him when you two first met?”

“See why you gotta go and bring up the past.” She wouldn’t say that she had a full blown crush on him, she didn’t know him and therefore couldn’t actually like him, but for a minute she was down bad. She wasn’t expecting to meet him when she did. Jimin had wanted to hang out and asked for a ride. He was with Jungkook when she picked him up and she was effectively caught off guard. Before she even realized what she was doing, she was out of the car and shaking hands with him in greeting. The next few weeks were spent trying her hardest to be in his presence. She never said more than two words to the boy, but yeah she was down bad. Once her hormones subsided, though, they eventually developed a friendship. A friendship that needed to stay a friendship. “Besides, I never said he wasn’t hot. I’m saying our personalities don’t match up. It wouldn’t work.”

“You aren’t that different from each other.”

“Yeah, but we’re wrong in just the right ways. It wouldn’t work.” He was right in saying that weren’t all that dissimilar, but it was because of that that she was sure starting any kind of relationship with romantic intent would go up in flames. The two were like parallel lines. Never meant to cross. Adjacent, but never intersecting. As they should.

“It sounds to me like you’re just afraid of what could happen.”

“Hold on there partner. I didn’t come here to be lectured or psychoanalyzed. I don’t even think he likes me for real, but he’s heading down a slippery slope. I just want you to talk to him before he goes and starts something that’s gonna get his feelings hurt, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” One thing about Jimin was that he was nosy. Had absolutely zero qualms about getting all up in other people’s business. Knowledge equals power is what he always told himself. So, if she hadn’t come to him voluntarily offering up this information, he would’ve picked up on it sooner or later, inserting himself in the middle of it all. As it stands, he’s been giving explicit permission to do some digging. All he has to do is wait for the opportunity to arise.

The opportunity came a few days later. Jungkook was sitting on his couch, phone in hand, completely zoned out when Jimin pounced.

“So... Y/N?”

Jungkook startled at the mention of her name. It wasn’t like he was just thinking about her. He definitely wasn’t about to text her. He hadn’t spent the past minutes in a daze typing, deleting, and retyping messages to send. Nope. “Huh?”

“Y/N? What’s going on with you and her?” Jimin asked again.

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he feigned innocence, voice raising an octave. Even though, for all intents and purposes, there really wasn’t anything going on.

He looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what she said.”

“What did she say?” She talked about him?

“You tell me.” He smirked sitting down, crossing one leg over the other like some kind of therapist.

“I don’t know. We had lunch,” he mumbled.

“Why?”

“Because I thought she might be hungry.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that she said you’re not her type?”

He blew raspberries into the air. He couldn’t lie to Jimin even if he tried. The man always managed to see right through him. A consequence of nearly ten years of friendship. “I’m just trying to get to know her better,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Because she’s nice.” Which wasn’t the complete truth, but if he admitted that he thought she had stars in her eyes he’d never hear the end of it.

“She’s a lot more than nice, so you need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that she’s one of the best people I know, but she’s stubborn and once she has an idea in her head it’s very hard for her to let go.”

“So you think I should stop?”

“I think you shouldn’t go into this blind, is all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing, probably won’t be easy. And, I don’t want you to get hurt. Or hurt her. What do you plan on doing if you manage to make her like you? If you’re not serious then I think you should stop.” Jimin patted his shoulder, then got up leaving him to his thoughts.

Jungkook heard what he was saying. He did. And, he was right. He hadn’t been thinking too hard about what he was doing. Honestly, he was just following the skip in his heartbeat and so far that led him to her. There was a very real possibility of him getting his feelings hurt. She was very strong willed. Couldn’t budge her mind with a bulldozer. So, if she was dead set on being against this, there wasn’t much he could do anyway.

Still, this wasn’t something he could let go of easily. He had no intentions of hurting her. It wasn’t just some conquest for him. That much he was sure of. He would hate to get closer to her, have her catch feelings for him, then dip because he wasn’t feeling it. But, he seriously doubted that would happen. It’s not like they were complete strangers. He was just seeing her in a new light now. And as much as he didn’t want anyone to get hurt, at this point he didn’t know if this was something he should even avoid. It didn’t seem like it.

Truthfully, he didn’t feel this way often. This pull he now felt toward her. He was usually much too caught up in trying to be the best version of himself he could be to entertain thoughts of others. However, right now she had his attention and he didn’t want to look away. He opened his text thread with her typing and finally sending a message before he could overthink it.

[10:53pm] jk: lunch tomorrow?

#bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction

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mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

Text

Full Service {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! this idea was rolling around in my brain for a while, but it took a bit for me to get it just right. so, here’s the final finished product!

**I used a translation app for all of the Italian in this story, so I apologize for any mistakes or grammatical errors. all Italian will be in italics, with the translations following the dialogue in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. maurizio calling reader “tesoro”™️. a tiny bit of fluff at the very end. maid/boss roleplay (lowkey?? except reader’s actually a maid lol). oral. no aftercare. dirty talk and name-calling/degradation, but in italian ;)

(possible) tw’s: indifelity/extramarital affair. implied age gap (reader is over 21, no more than 10 years difference).

word count: 2.7k

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname).

You’d just begun cleaning the marbled kitchen when Mr. Gucci arrives home. You turn around and offer him a small smile, which he ignores, shrugging the briefcase off his shoulder.

He immediately walks into his office and shuts the door without a single word or glance, and you probably wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the evening. That’s usually how it went. Patrizia wasn’t home yet, a surprise considering she’s usually home all day when you come to clean.

You’ve developed quite the crush for Mr. Gucci as of late, although you’d never admit it aloud. He was a bit older than you, not to mention married. But, you couldn’t help it, he was unbelievably handsome, successful, and quick-witted when he wanted to be. Usually after a drink or two.

But, he was a man very dedicated to his work, which often left him with a stern demeanor and a harsh tone of voice. He barely paid you mind, especially not when work was waiting for him in his office.

You continued to clean for another hour or so; it was a mansion, after all, and the kitchen was at least three times the size of your bedroom. Plus, the extensive marble surfaces and stainless steel appliances require your full service. You were so immersed in your work that you didn’t even notice Mr. Gucci’s presence behind you.

Only when you turned around did you realize not only him, but the close proximity between your bodies. You gasp, backing up against the cabinetry.

“Oh! Signore Gucci, mi scuso. Non sapevo che ci fossi.” (Oh! Mr. Gucci, my apologies. I didn’t know you were there.)

His eyes look you up and down for a brief moment before returning to meet yours, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“Va bene, piccoletto. Non volevo farti da parte.” (It’s alright, little one. I didn’t mean to startle you.)

He sighs, looking away.

“Volevo informarvi che Patrizia non tornera stasera. Ha deciso di restare la notte in una casa di amici.” (I wanted to inform you that Patrizia won’t be coming back this evening. She’s decided to stay the night at a friends house.)

You could sense that there was something else going on, but you didn’t prod further, deciding that it was none of your business. You nod up at him, a bit confused as to why he’s telling you this. And why he has to be standing so damn close to tell you.

“Grazie per avermi informato, signore. Ho quasi finito di pulire la giornata, quindi saro via tra un’ora circa.” (Thank you for letting me know, sir. I am almost done cleaning for the day, so I’ll be gone in an hour or so.)

Maurizio reaches his hand up to hold the side of your face, thumb swiping across your bottom lip. You freeze, tensing beneath his touch.

“Da quando hai iniziato a lavorare qui, ho trovato sempre piu difficile concentrarsi sul mio lavoro. Sai perche, piccoletto?” (You know, ever since you began working here, I’ve found it more and more difficult to focus on my work. Do you know why that is, little one?)

“No, signore, non lo so.” (No, sir, I don’t know.)

He runs a single finger down from my lips, tracing a straight line over my throat before it toys with the collar of my uniform.

“La tua uniforme...mi sta distrando.” (Your uniform is...distracting for me.)

The breath hitches in your throat as his fingers rub the material of the smoothed-down collar. His gaze flicks down to where his thumb and forefinger are.

“Quando ti vedo,” (Whenever I see you,)

He begins, leaning in a little closer.

“Trovo che i miei pantaloni cominciino a sentirsi stretti, il che e strano perche ho sistemato tutto il mio costume.” (I find that my pants begin to feel tight, which is strange because I have all of my suits custom fitted.)

You nearly choke on your breath as his hand travels down the curves of your body, traversing the scoop of your hip before resting just above the hem of your uniform dress.

“E strano, sig. Gucci.” (That is odd, Mr. Gucci.)

His hand begins massaging the side of your thigh gently, and he leans down just a bit further, mouth now right in front of your ear. His hot breath sends a chill down your spine.

“Sta succedendo adesso, in effetti. Pensi di potermi aiutare con questo problema, Y/N?” (It’s happening right now, in fact. Do you think you could help me with this problem, Y/N?)

He presses you up against the cabinets, bodies flush together. A small groan escapes his lips when his obvious erection slides on your lower stomach.

You’ve never been as perplexed and aroused as you are in this moment. The burn between your thighs is nearly unbearable, and as much as you hate to admit it, you wanted this.

“Sono al suo servizio, signore.” (I am at your service, sir.)

Maurizio smirks, hooking a finger under the hem and pulling the stretchable fabric of your uniform dress out, then releasing it, allowing it to snap back into place on your outer thigh.

“In ginocchio, piccoletto.” (On your knees then, little one.)

Without hesitation, you slide down onto your knees, mouth watering as you look up at him, awaiting his next command. He cups your cheek, gently swiping his thumb across your cheekbone.

“Bellissima e obbediente, capisco. Bene, bene.” (Beautiful and obedient, I see. Good, good.)

You bite your lip as he pats your cheek, then runs a hand over the bulge in his pants, sighing softly at the contact. His fingers curl up underneath, cupping and squeezing his balls while his thumb presses down on the head, rubbing it. He groans, letting out a shaky breath afterwards.

“Vedi cosa mi fai fare, Y/N? Devo scendere e massaggiarmi cosi, togliendo tempo di lavoro prezioso.” (Do you see what you make me do, Y/N? I have to reach down and rub myself like this, taking away precious work time.)

You’re soaked already, clit throbbing, begging for attention. You whine softly, chewing your lip as you resist the urge to lunge forward and run your face over his clothed length.

He smirks.

“Questo ti eccita, piccolo? Ti piace immaginarmi di toccarmi cosi nel mio ufficio?” (Does that thought excite you, little one? Do you like imagining me touching myself like this in my office?)

Your eager nod only spurs him on, hips pushing forward into his palm. He quickly takes his hand away, taking a small step closer so that the bulge is mere centimeters from your lips. Your jaw slacks and your breath becomes hot and heavy, mouth eager to worship him.

His large hand gently wraps around the back of your head, pushing your head forward, encouraging you to touch him. You don’t require any further invitation, mouthing at his length while your nose drags against it.

He widens his stance, spreading his legs apart as his hips start to grind against your mouth.

“Oh, e cosi entusiasta. Mi piace, merda.” (Oh, she’s so eager. I love it, shit.)

The back of your head begins to hurt as it’s pressed further and further against the cabinet handles, but you don’t care, reaching around to grab his ass to pull him further into you. Even he seems surprised by this, asscheeks clenching as he suddenly thrusts forward with a low grunt.

Maurizio wraps his hands in your hair, keeping you still as he pulls back, chest heaving slightly. His pupils are blown wide and he grabs your chin, thumb pressing down into the flesh.

“Apri bene.” (Open wide.)

He says, grinning down at you as he begins pulling his belt buckle loose.

Soon, he undoes his pants and pulls himself out from beneath the restrictive material, humming in satisfaction as his length bobs in front of you. His hands rest on either side of your head as he guides his weeping head towards your mouth. You open for him, and he leans forward, pushing into your mouth.

You immediately begin choking and gagging, but he just keeps going, pushing inch after inch inside. His abdomen tenses and his back curls when he’s shoved all of himself in your mouth, letting out a shaky exhale.

“Cosi, oh bella ragazza, e cosi bella la bocca.” (That’s it, oh good girl, such a good mouth.)

You’re forced to remain still as your throat constricts, head pinned against the cabinets with his hands on either side. Once you adjust to the new intrusion, Maurizio pulls back before thrusting forward again, growling under his breath.

“Cazzo, e una cosa buona per me.” (Fuck, that’s good, so good for me.)

All you can do is moan as your boss begins fucking your mouth, eyelids brimming with tears at the constant touch of his tip on your uvula. He bends over, supporting himself on the counter with an arm while his hand tightens in your hair, thrusts getting faster.

“Guarda questa bocca che mi allunga per il cazzo. Che brava ragazza, prendendo il cazzo dei capi come se fosse troia.” (Look at this little mouth stretching out for my cock. What a good girl, taking her bosses cock like the slut she is.)

You moan loudly, hand swiftly snaking down between your legs, fingertips pressing on the throbbing nub to provide relief. When he sees you do this, it only seems to encourage him further, one foot scooting forward so that he’s now almost completely bent over you.

His hips are becoming desperate, now, losing their rhythm as his inevitable release builds.

“Ah, sapevo che avresti avuto una bella bocca, Y/N. Ho sempre saputo che saresti ansioso di prendere il mio uccello, disposto a lasciarti usare cosi.” (Ah, I knew you’d have a good little mouth, Y/N. I always knew you’d be eager to take my cock, willing to let me use you like this.)

You’re sobbing around him now, tears streaming down your cheeks at the sheer intensity of the arousal you’re experiencing. He looked so good like this: hair a mess, glasses fogged, panting and grunting with each thrust, all while he slams his cock into your mouth without relent.

Suddenly, he pulls out and stumbles back, hands gripping the edge of the countertop as he catches his breath. He stares down at you with a look of pure hunger, of carnal lust, and it makes you shudder.

“Alzati e piegati al bancone. Subito.” (Stand up and bend yourself over the counter. Now.)

He strokes himself rapidly as you stand up on shaky legs and bend over, spreading your legs. He’s quick to come up behind you, grabbing your hips to pull you back a bit so that your hips were off the edge.

You gasp when he yanks the skirt up over your hips, revealing your creamy globes and the red lace thong nestled between them. He growls, making quick work of your panties, shoving them down off your hips before running his fingers along your folds delicately, just barely brushing them.

Maurizio smirks when your hips try to grind down on him, seeking the friction you so desperately needed. He smacks your ass promptly, causing a choked cry to leave your throat.

“Stai fermo, Y/N.” (Stay still, Y/N.)

Two of his digits suddenly breach your soaked entrance, pushing up into you. You gasp softly, hips jerking slightly as he begins fucking his thick fingers up into you. His hand spreads across your lower back, keeping you still as he curls his digits up to rub and tease that spongy spot on your walls.

“C-Cazzo, sig. Gucci, ti prego. Scopami, la voglio cosi male.” (F-Fuck, Mr. Gucci, please. Please fuck me, I want it so badly.)

He grins, giving your g-spot a few more rubs before pulling his fingers out, smearing the slick over your lips.

“Succhiali, piccoletto. Assaggiati sulle dita.” (Suck them, little one. Taste yourself on my fingers.)

You open your mouth and moan around his digits as you suck them clean, tongue swirling around them before he takes them out. His tip pokes at your entrance and he runs himself over your folds to collect some lubricant before positioning himself behind you.

“Pronta?” (Ready?)

You don’t even have time to respond before he shoves his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you. Your eyes almost bug out of your skull before squeezing shut, a loud gasp coming from your lips. He isn’t necessarily hung, but he’s certainly the biggest and thickest you’ve ever taken.

His fingers dig into your hips as he remains still, allowing you to adjust to his size. After a moment, he draws back before thrusting forward again, building a steady rhythm with his hips. Small noises come from his lips as he fucks you into the countertop.

“Si, cazzo. Cosi stretto e piccolo, sapevi di sentirti bene circondato dal mio uccello.” (Yes, fuck yes. So tight and little, knew you’d feel good wrapped around my cock.)

Your insides clench at his whispered words.

“Quante volte ci ha pensato, signore?” (How many times have you thought of this, sir?)

“Troppi per contare.” (Too many to count.)

He growls, hips suddenly bucking forward out-of-rhythm.

“Ogni volta che mi sono toccata, ho pensato a te, a questa stronzetta. Mi chiedevo se fossi stretto e ho pensato che sarebbe bello dividerla a meta con il mio cazzo.” (Every time I touched myself, I thought of you, of this little cunt. I wondered if you’d be tight, and I thought of how good it’d feel to split you in half with my cock.)

Maurizio puts his hand under your thigh and puts it up on the counter, bending down so his chin rests on your shoulder.

“Te lo sei immaginato anche questo, piccolo? Hai pensato a me quando ti sei toccata?” (Did you imagine this too, little one? Did you think about me when you touched yourself?)

You nod.

“Si, signore. Ti pensavo cosi, immaginavo che fossero le tue dita dentro di mi invece che le mie.” (I did, sir. I thought of you like this, imagined it was your fingers inside me instead of my own.)

“Ragazza sporca.” (Dirty girl.)

He snarls, pounding into you harder, hips spurred on by your words.

You’re close, now, walls beginning to pulse around him. He feels this, one hand wrapping around your throat while the other trails down around your front, fingers seeking your clit.

His hand tightens around your neck, fingers gripping your jaw.

“Lo sento, tu sei vicino, piccolo. Forze, sborra intorno al mio uccello. Copri il tuo capo nella sporca fiaca e mostragli che porchetta sei.” (I can feel it, you’re close, little one. Come on, cum around my cock. Cover your boss in your filthy slick, show him what a little slut you are.)

With only a few circles over your erect clit, coupled with his cock stroking your walls rapidly and the dirty manner in which he was speaking to you, your release comes within seconds. You moan hoarsely, lungs depleted of some oxygen as his hand tightens around your throat.

“Cazzo, arrivo!” (Fuck, I’m cumming!)

He ruts desperately into you, chasing his climax as he fucks you through yours. At the last minute, he pulls out, furiously jerking his cock before thick hot ropes of cum shoot from his tip, painting your bare ass. He grunts and groans through the whole thing, stroking himself through it before squeezing the head, letting the final drop land on your skin.

Both of you take a moment to catch your breaths and re-center yourselves in reality. Maurizio tucks himself back into his pants before walking over to grab a paper towel, wetting it slightly. He wipes all the drying seed off of your skin for you, bending down to pull your panties back up and your dress back down.

Your legs are shaky as you stand back up, smoothing out the front of your uniform. Much to your surprise, Mr. Gucci didn’t leave right away, instead turning you around and bending down for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle and tender, a stark contrast to everything that's happened up until this point. His large hand cupped your cheek and his thumb ran along your cheekbone before he pulled away, offering you a small smile.

“Grazie, piccolo.” (Thank you, little one.)

You return the smile.

“Certo, signore.” (Of course, sir.)

Turns out, the marble and stainless steel weren’t the only things that required your full service today.

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #house of gucci #maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci smut #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x you #maurizio gucci x reader smut #tw: extramarital affair #tw: infidelity

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true-blue-megamind · 4 years ago

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FAN THEORY SUPPOSITION SUNDAY: The Warden

SPOILER WARNING! It’s still a thing, and, if you haven’t yet, you still need to watch Megamind. (If you have seen it already, however, you need to see it again. Because it’s awesome.)

Yes, yes, the post is three days late this time. Real life has to take priority and such. So sue me. (Don’t really do that. LOL!)

For that same reason—or more accurately because this week has exhausted me—I will attempt to make this post shorter than usual. We’ll see how that goes. My money is on “not well.” LOL.

Anyway, today we’re going to look at a subject that often divides the Megamind fandom: the Warden and his relationship with Megamind. There are several fan theories—I mean, suppositions—surrounding this, but I’m going to be focusing on a few of the main ones.

The first of these is that the Warden was actually a father figure to Megamind when he was young, allowing him to be raised in jail not out of cruelty or disinterest, but because it was the only way to keep him safe from shadowy government agencies that otherwise would have performed all sorts of experiments on the blue alien. This both accounts for why a child would be allowed to grow up in what is clearly a high-security prison for dangerous adult criminals—something that, admittedly, needs some sort of explanation—and fits with widely accepted sci-fi and comic book tropes. (From Area 51 to mysterious “Men in Black” type organizations, fiction is full of government agencies created to study extraterrestrial life and technology.) Some even go so far as to suggest that the Warden may have tried to adopt Megamind officially, but was blocked from doing so by these same entities. On top of this, such an idea also offers room to re-imagine the Warden as a much more interesting, complex, and sympathetic character. Indeed, there has been some excellent fan fiction written about this pseudo-parental relationship.

Art: Fathers And Sons Day by tabbydragon

There is some evidence to support this. The first is that, although the Warden behaves harshly toward Megamind in the “jail-break” scene near the beginning of the film, Megamind himself seems to be trying to engage in a playful exchange: pranking the older man, wishing him a good morning, and even teasing him. While some say that this is simply Megamind’s personality as well as his determination to always appear indominable, others suggest that, perhaps, the blue man is trying to recapture a lost amiability between himself and the prison Warden. It is possible that, when he was younger and less villainous, Megamind might have exchanged friendly jokes and greetings with the man in charge of the jail he called home. It has even been suggested that the Warden is so hard on the blue man at the beginning of the film not because he hates Megamind, but because Megamind’s life choices have hurt and alienated his father figure. This idea finds some support in the facts that, when Megamind leaves jail to confront Titan, the Warden wished him good luck, and at the end of the movie, that same man seems genuinely happy as he watches the television broadcast of his one-time prisoner being named Defender of Metro City. Finally, there is some evidence from the comics which, although not truly considered canon, as I’ve mentioned before, do offer some material for fan theories. In the “episode” entitled Bad Minion! Bad! Megamind runs into the Warden in a bar, and the latter offers the former advice. There is certainly a somewhat fatherly feel to the scene.

The second theory is exactly the opposite: that the Warden either did not care for or outright disliked the former supervillain. Unfortunately, as fun as the Warden/Father Figure concept is, this second, darker idea has far stronger evidence to support it in the film itself. (Try not to hate me, everyone.) These clues range from the obvious to the subtle, but there are quite a few of them to be found.

During the first scene in which we see Warden interact with Megamind, he doesn’t behave like an angry, disappointed father—at least not a good one. He isn’t merely surly toward Megamind; he is absolutely nasty. The Warden verbally condemns the alien, telling him that he’ll “always be a villain,” and essentially steals what he believes is a gift for the blue man, even taunting him by saying: “I think I’ll keep it!” This hardly seems like the actions of someone who once felt any sort of affection for the extraterrestrial. That same portion of the movie holds another clue as well: the screens monitoring Megamind’s brain activity. Indeed, in original concept art for the film, the system appears both more invasive and more nightmarish. It seems that, far from protecting Megamind, the Warden may have actually allowed him to be experimented upon.

Next, there is the newspaper article at the beginning of the title sequence, which bears the headline “Hometown Boy Makes Bad.” It’s hard to see what the paper says, of course, even if you bother to really notice it, but luckily for us Liz (Demishock) wrote a wonderfully thorough blog post which, among other things, provides a transcript of the “news story.” In it, the Warden is quoted as referring to young Megamind as a born villain as well as abnormal.

You don't know this kid. I've watched the little criminal since he was in diapers. This kid is just a bad seed. I've got experienced, hardened criminals in here who are afraid of him - I mean, have you seen the size of his head?… It's not like he's a normal kid… I mean, have you gotten a good look at his gigantic blue head? I don't know where you come from, but where I come it's just not right.

Granted, there seems to be some truth to what the Warden is saying, as the article also mentions that Megamind, who can hardly have been more than seven years old at the time, has basically been put into solitary confinement for the safety of other prisoners following an unnamed incident, adding that the other inmates “refused to point fingers for fear of retaliation.” (This fits with the fan theory that young Megamind would have had to both fight and develop a fearsome reputation in order to protect himself. You can read more about that in the post How Strong is Megamind?) However, the Warden seems to dwell a lot on the fact that Megamind looks alien, and he displays an obvious dislike for the young boy.

Finally, there is evidence hidden in the school scene, although it’s easy to miss. In an amazing two-part video series, Megamind: A City of Deception. YouTuber The Theorizer illustrates several hidden clues about Megamind’s early life and how it it led him to embrace villainy. (I will very likely write another post going into more detail about that at a later date.) One thing that The Theorizer discovered is a seemingly innocuous detail in the background during the popcorn scene. Take a moment to examine the images below. Look closely at the blackboard and you’ll see a paper cut out of a school bus. Look even more closely at that and you’ll find something odd: the bus is full of crayon-drawn children except for one figure: an adult male, riding in the back of the bus, who looks suspiciously like the Warden as he appears at the beginning of the film.

In a movie where so much attention is given to small things—I mean, seriously, the animation team actually went through the trouble to write a news story for a paper that was on the screen less than ten seconds—this cannot possibly be a coincidence. (You can learn more about the artists’ amazing dedication to detail in my post What’s Hidden in the Animation?) Although it is vaguely possible that Megamind, painfully aware of how much his appearance was despised, chose to draw the Warden’s face instead of his own, most fans believe there is a darker reason for this oddity.

Think about it: the Li’l Gifted School for Li’l Gifted Kids is built close by a jail with a strangely similar name: Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. It’s clearly a small academy, yet the only two known aliens in the city—who, by the way, have extremely different social backgrounds—both just happen to attend there. And now the prison warden appears to be somehow involved with the elementary school? It’s bizarre. Add to this the fact that the young alien adopted by a privileged family—a boy who possessed super-strength and laser vision—seemed inclined to be a bully, (as is made obvious by the kickball scene,) and a disturbing fan theory emerges. Adults realized that Wayne Smith, the child who would eventually become Metro Man, might prove dangerous if left unchecked, and came up with a plan to turn him into a hero instead. Wayne was showered with praise, conditioning him to seek public approval, but a superhero needs a nemesis. The strange-looking, unwanted blue boy who’d already been labeled a criminal would have seemed like the obvious choice. If this is true, then Megamind was purposefully, albeit covertly, groomed to become a supervillain from a young age, and the Warden played a major role in doing that.

So there you have it. Two competing fan theories concerning the Warden’s connection with Megamind. Both have some evidence supporting them, and there are fans who are firmly dedicated to one or the other. Which is true? Did the Warden care for Megamind like a son but distance himself when the boy turned to villainy? Or did he judge and despise Megamind but come around to liking him when he finally realized what sort of person the blue man was deep down? The fact is that those questions can be argued for hours on end. No matter which of these suppositions you prefer, however, the mere fact that even a minor supporting character is complex enough to offer room for this debate speaks to the impressive amount of work and devotion that went into creating this amazing animated film.

#Megamind #Megamind movie #Megamind fan theory #fan theory #fan theories #fanon #Warden #the Warden #connection #relationship #relationships

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hockeywhy · 4 years ago

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lights out (1); t. konecny

PART 2 WARNINGS: language, smut. WORD COUNT: 5.7k

You [attachment: photo taken in what appears to be a dimly lit room. The image is taken from the nose down, mouth slightly open and evidently smiling, two fingers pushed down against your tongue. A white shirt hangs off your shoulders around your elbows, revealing a cage bra, the straps and lining black and the orange lace of the cup sheer.]

You bet you wish you were here now

You released a small sigh, sliding down the headboard of your bed until you felt the plush pillows behind your head again. For a while, you stared blankly upwards at your ceiling, your phone held loosely in one hand while the other rested against your stomach, fingers tapping idly against the exposed skin.

It had only been around a month since you allowed your friendship with Troy to develop into something a little more than that, but less than a relationship should be. You have known him almost for as long as you could remember, going way back to the days when the two of you would be made to stand side-by-side for photographs while your families cooed over how adorable you looked. Had anyone told you that years down the line you and Troy would be exchanging messages meant for each other’s eyes only, you would’ve laughed at them, spun on your heel and walked away. He never once struck you as someone you would even consider dating, much less send semi-naked photos of yourself to for the simple fact that Troy was a friend and nothing else. Not once did you even bother sparing a thought to the possibility of liking him beyond that but, well, coming to think of it, you still didn’t. And you were pretty sure he thought the same but occasionally, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Measures which just simply happened to coincide with word floating about Travis possibly keeping a relationship away from public eyes.

Your brother being traded to the Philadelphia Flyers coincided with your own college admission in the city roughly three years ago and you’d guess it was almost just as long since you started carrying a torch for Travis. If spectators got to see him as a dynamic, feisty, valuable for the team yet annoying for others sort of player, you got to know him as a laidback, funny, endearing and…well, occasionally annoying guy though apparently, only towards you. As if drawn to him by some invisible force, you found yourself in his vicinity often enough and it seemed that Travis welcomed it as an opportunity to tease you one way or another. You gave as good as you got though, and admittedly, that also helped you keep your feelings in check a little. Or at least, enough to never give even the smallest of hints to those around you that you might have a thing for Travis. Tolerate him, sure. Hold a genuine conversation by resisting the temptation to push each other’s buttons, no way. If, behind closed doors in the privacy of your own room, you wondered what it’d be like to have him next to you and occasionally, allowed that idea to take on an entirely different meaning while sliding a hand between your legs, then that was for you to know only.

When you caught wind of the rumor that Travis may have finally, finally found someone at last, it was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water, cubes and all, on you. Of course, there wasn’t anything more to whatever weird back-and-forth the two of you had going. After all, the two of you were fully grown adults not five-year olds who pushed each other around in the playground by way of saying hey dummy, I like you. Part of you expected that to come at some point. Travis was handsome, young and successful, and you were witness to numerous instances in which he was approached by girls who wouldn’t hesitate to press their numbers scribbled on napkins or small pieces of paper in his hand. It was only a matter of time until one of them caught his eye and it was painfully obvious that person wouldn’t be you. There wouldn’t be a chance, anyway. Too weird with your older brother on the team, probably. And besides, you couldn’t see yourself as being his type. Regardless of how often you tried making a conscious effort of not comparing yourself to others, nagging thoughts starting with I wish I had or I wish I was or Maybe I should too still crept up on you now and then. Sure, you were plenty confident in yourself: personality, looks, individuality, but you could see little of yourself in the girls who Travis let his eyes linger on a moment longer than maybe necessary before pocketing their number.

Troy was, for the lack of better word, convenient and not that awful of a distraction from Travis. Initially, you wanted to feel bad for thinking of him as such, but it quickly became clear to you that what Troy wanted was nothing more than someone he could count on for some release every now and then. So, really, you carried your fair share of convenience also.

You casually dated since starting college, but you couldn’t bring yourself to trust anyone as much as you trusted Troy to get to the level where you’d exchange nudes. Perhaps it had something to do with the two of you being friends for so long, but you also knew that if you ever wanted to call it quits with Troy, you’d be able to go back to how you were before. Simple as that. No way would he ever reveal anything you sent him to anyone. Troy proved his honesty and ability to keep to his word on several occasions, and that was more than enough for you.

Your phone vibrated and you blinked rapidly several times, pulling yourself away from your thoughts. Lifting the device above your face, you unlocked it and pressed the message notification, focus zeroing in on the response.

Travis is this your way of getting me to agree with you and say that this party really is boring?

A quiet giggle left your mouth but in the next second, you would swear you actually heard your breathing being cut short. You scrambled up on the bed and in your haste, almost dropped the device on the floor. As if someone had suddenly intruded, you pulled the shirt up on your shoulders and gripped the material tightly around you, bunching it up in your free hand to hide your torso. The seconds during which that happened, you could swear you read wrong or were imagining things. Surely…surely you just didn’t click into the wrong messaging thread, right? Right. That’d have to be it. You breathed in, then out. In, then out once more and looked at your phone again. As you did, it vibrated again, indicating a new message.

Travis if that’s the case, it’s working

It couldn’t be. You weren’t that careless. You always made an even greater effort of double checking the contact you clicked into whenever you messaged Troy, except… Except you were a little distracted this time around. Distracted and somewhat excited, truth be told. It’d been a while since the two of you have had the opportunity to get together and during this time, your conversations were of the ordinary sort: general comments about campus gossip, heated agreements about surely written exams were an outdated method of testing.

Your hands visibly trembled and you tried to steady yourself by inhaling deeply before daring to scroll just a little further up on the screen. There wasn’t any real need for that though: your photo was in clear view, not in the message thread you had with Troy but the message thread you had with Travis. Because he was the last person you messaged. Because he was the one who asked if you’d also be joining them for a get-together your brother organised at a venue often frequented by the team. Because maybe all you saw were the first two letters of the name and decided that was about as far as your concentration could manage before sending the photo. In hopes of getting a different type of attention from Troy at the time, you messaged Travis back to say that unfortunately, they ‘won’t benefit from my wonderful presence tonight, much as I know that’ll make things boring but try to find a silver lining if you can’.

“Fuck,” you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as if that’d help erase what you’d done.

What you saw behind your eyes, however, wasn’t stars but Travis’ own messages relayed back to you over and over like blinding Times Square ads. You had to blink several times to clear your vision when you opened your eyes again, looking down at your phone to re-read them. As if, again, in your haste you’d done something wrong like misread what he responded with. It was there, though, on your screen – clear as day. You frowned.

You could think of a hundred different ways in which Travis could have responded to that – or even, not bothered with a response and save all the awkwardness for the next time you’d both be under the same roof. You read that back to yourself and it sounded less like what the fuck are you doing and more like now you have my attention. But that couldn’t be it… Had he not paid attention to the display name, hooked in simply by the photo alone? You wouldn’t put it past him. Or anyone else who’d be on the receiving end of photos like that, really. The selfie was suggestive in a way that invited action to try and get a better sneak peek. Maybe Travis hadn’t even checked to see who it was coming from. And besides, what about the rumors of him seeing someone? There couldn’t be smoke without fire, and you lived by that.

You shit, sorry! wrong person

You do me a favor and forget this happened

Not your smoothest moment, you had to admit but it’s as if your brain had short-circuited. You had to direct most of your attention and effort in trying to not read too deeply into Travis’ response. As if you reeled him in. As if he were willing to allow it to happen and wanted more. It couldn’t be because at no point did he leave anything to the imagination that he might have a thing for you. All the teasing, all the back-and-forth, there was never anything more to it than what was on the surface. Besides, something told you that if there was even the smallest chance of Travis having a thing for you, he would’ve made it fairly clear. He was anything but shy. Definitely not the sort of person to beat around the bush, regardless of whether you were the younger sibling of a teammate or not. Maybe he was just surprised. Yeah, that had to be it.

When your phone vibrated again, it wasn’t just a short notification for a new message. It vibrated and vibrated until you registered that actually, it was a call.

“Hey,” you answered, voice a little raspy. Your mouth felt dry, throat scratchy.

“You’re asking a lot from me,” came Travis’ response. On his end, you could just barely make out the muffled sound of thudding bass-heavy music. “Who were you going to send that to if not me, doll?”

The pet name sent a rush of heat all the way down to your belly. Much as you didn’t want to, you knew you’d end up playing that back to yourself for days to come. Regardless of how much you tried to direct your feelings elsewhere, Travis always found a way to weasel back to being at the center of your attention. Or better said, you found a way to put him back there, but it was easier to deal with the idea if you blamed it on him. It was equal parts pitiful and desperate to carry a torch for him for so long, knowing damn well nothing good would come out of it.

“Just a friend,” you responded, fingers tightening around the material of your shirt. “Travis, please—”

“I’m just a friend, aren’t I?” he interrupted, emphasizing his words in such way that he sounded almost…spiteful. “You still wearing that?” he added, a little lighter this time around.

“Travis.” His name fell from your mouth the way a plea would: whispered, urgent, tight.

“Only a simple question, Y/N, all you’ve gotta do is answer it.” You were ready to respond, but Travis added, “and then I’ll forget about it.”

You glared at the wall across from you. “Sounds a hell of a lot like blackmail to me,” you said without heat because suddenly, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Saying yes, you were still wearing that. Yes, you still looked exactly as your photo indicated you did, all delicate lace and glossy lips. Minimal effort from your part that always seemed to do the trick for boys like Troy. For boys in general because most were easy to hook in like that. “Yes,” you finally admitted, and you were surprised by how confident your voice sounded.

In your ear, Travis hummed thoughtfully. “Is it a matching set?”

You can’t help the small, breathless laugh that slipped from your mouth. It doesn’t take away from the fact that your hands were shaking, but it releases some tension from your shoulders. It was all it took for you to realize you wanted to cling to this, if even for just a few more minutes. “The second photo would’ve been the one to answer that.”

A small pause followed during which you could hear the bounce of what sounded to be wood against wood and then, the unmistakable fiddling of a metal latch catching. “Tell me about it instead. If you want.”

You wanted. You wanted so much that for a moment, his request made your breath hitch. Pressing your lips together into a tight line, you cast a glance towards your reflection caught in a tall mirror resting just opposite your bed. Unconsciously, you loosened your grip on the shirt and you shrugged the material off your shoulders again, tentatively as if you were being watched while doing so. The dim yellow lamp at the side cast a warm glow across the entire room which seemed to amplify the entire picture: you in the middle of your bed, legs bent at the knees and slightly spread to reveal a little of the thin lace material of your panties that left little to the imagination. You swallowed quietly, falling back against the pillows, eyes fluttering shut. There’d be no going back from this, you knew that, and you knew Travis was well aware of it also. But you could see his face behind your eyes, could easily recall the intensity of your feelings towards him and you heard the pet name he used just moments ago bouncing around in your mind incessantly. It didn’t just make heat crawl along the expanse of your skin. It made you actually throb for him.

“It’s not the usual red lace or black silk, but I could help myself when I saw it,” you admitted quietly, no lie in your words whatsoever. “It’s more memorable. More unique. Kind of reminded me of your alternative jersey, coming to think of it.”

On the other end, Travis sighed a long, low sigh. “You thought about it when you saw it?”

I thought of you, you think, but what you said instead was, “orange and black is a surprisingly good combination. That, and it was also one of the simpler sets. Made for taking off quickly, no hassle.” You could swear you could hear the pounding of your heart in your own ears. “Doesn’t need to all come off, though. I’m a panty pulled to the side sort of person if we’re short on time.” You swallow quietly, pulling in your lips a little to run your tongue across them. “Are we?” you asked quietly.

“A little,” Travis responded after a short moment of silence. His voice sounded a little weak; worn. “Panty pulled to the side sort of person, huh? Wouldn’t have pinned that on you.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Travis. Don’t tell me you didn’t at least think about that before,” you encouraged, thighs pressing together. “Wanting someone so much, so desperately that there’s no time to take all clothes off. Push them down on the bed, against a door…wherever it is you are just to get a little taste. I did. I do,” you admitted, turning a little to the side, eyes falling shut, all and any form of shame flying out the window. Might as well enjoy it. “I think about someone seeing me like this, wanting me so badly that that they can’t even bring themselves to take it all off. All it’d take with a little number like this is a pull to the side. It’s fucking sexy. Did you ever think about it?”

You heard him draw in a shaky breath and a moment later, the sound of metal and clothes being fumbled with joined as background noise. You closed your eyes and imagined him in a cubicle, tugging on the buckle of his belt, pulling on the zipper of his jeans, pressing a palm against his length to add that extra bit of much needed pressure. The idea of him growing hard for you, because of you, in a public place was nothing short of arousing.

“Often,” came his response, voice gravelly in your ear. “That time you came along for the party at the end of our summer training camp, I thought about taking you away from all those people to a place where it’d be only us two. Thought about it again a couple of weeks ago when we went out to celebrate that win, remember? I thought, what would it look like if I took you in the nearest restroom, locked it and fucked you in front of one of these mirrors? What would you look like with my hand between your legs? How would you feel like?” he questioned and, when you didn’t respond to him immediately, too caught up in the fantasy he was helping build in your mind, demanded, “tell me”.

Your hand was caught between your thighs, fingers brushing against your panties and there was no denying how wet you were becoming. “’m wet,” you whispered, turning your head slightly more into your pillow while pressing the heel of your hand against your clothed clit, circling it over your panties. “Travis, just… Just thinking about it makes me so wet.”

Travis hummed a small, satisfied hum and you heard him release a low exhale. “Do me a favor, doll. Bring your hand up to your mouth and wet your fingers. Make them nice and slick, okay? It’s what you were doing in your photo, no? Do it properly this time,” he instructed.

You withdrew your hand from between your legs with difficulty and once you did, you whined at the loss of contact. But you were weak for the guidance Travis was giving you and you did as you were told. You brought your hand up to your mouth, taking your index and middle fingers in the heat of your mouth and without hesitation, your tongue swirled around them, ensuring they were as wet as you were told they should be.

All the while, Travis continued speaking in your ear. “Think of my mouth when you touch yourself with them, doll. Think about how willing I’d be to get on my knees for you to get a taste of you. Come on, touch yourself for me,” he encouraged gently. When you removed your fingers from your mouth, you released them with a ‘pop’ sound that had Travis groaning into the phone, the noise sending another rush of heat across your body, goosebumps forming over it. “Panties to the side, doll. Just like you like it, okay?”

You hummed in agreement and did as you were told. You lifted your top leg just enough for you to be able to push the lace aside and when you dragged your wet fingers between your folds, you shuddered, moan muffled into the pillow. With your eyes closed, it was easy to picture Travis kneeling between your spread legs, tongue flat against your core, dragging upwards and downwards in slow languid strokes. You knew your fingers couldn’t compare but the sound of his heavy breathing into the phone meshing with your own breathless, almost restrained groans helped push your fantasy further.

“Bet you’d taste so good on my tongue, doll,” Travis whispered just as the tips of your fingers pressed against your clit, causing you to curl forward a little as a small whimper slips from your mouth. He chuckled, although it sounded strained to your ears. “Right there. That’s the spot I’ll circle back to time and time again just to hear you cry out for it. Quietly though. Remember there’s a bunch of people just outside the room. Can’t let ‘em know what we’re doing behind closed doors, okay? Seeing you so worked up, so wet… We’ll need to keep that for my eyes only, yeah?”

You nodded, belatedly remembering he couldn’t see it so you whispered a “yes” as you circled your clit, adding pressure and removing it the moment stars began dotting your vision. “God, Travis, I wish I could…just want to feel you inside.”

“And you will,” he promised. “I’d want to be inside you too, so of course you will. I’d want to use my tongue first though. Get as much of you in my mouth as possible so that I’ll remember how you taste. You know what to do, doll. Tell me how it feels.”

You did. Slowly, you guided your hand down to the center of your heat, pushing a finger inside you. You did so with ease yet you still sighed in relief at the warmth surrounding you. “It feels so good, Travis,” you sighed, curling your finger upward tentatively and your breath caught in your throat. “Oh god, it feels so fucking good. All because of you.”

You pushed part of your face into the pillow as you added a second finger, slipping it in with ease as a result of how wet you’d become and with every upward push, you rubbed the heel of your hand against your clit. The sensation, coupled with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear, was heady. Knowing he was on the other end touching himself to a fantasy the two of you shared, knowing you were in his mind as much as he was in yours while doing that pushed you just that much closer to the edge.

“Travis, I’m gonna…ah, I’m gonna come,” you muttered, words leaving your mouth in a muffled slur. “Fuck, I’m so close…”

“You’re doing so well, doll. I want to hear you when you do, okay? Don’t hold back. I need to hear you,” he emphasized.

You were nothing if not obedient at the best of times and this, well this was one of the best times you’d ever gone through. All it took was just a few more thrusts of your hand, fingers finding that right spot and pressing against it continuously while your thighs closed around your wrist for extra tightness and finally, finally you called out Travis’ name followed promptly by an unrestrained cry. Your hips bucked unconsciously against your palm, trying to ride out your orgasm as much as you could and when you slowly withdrew from your core, you brought your glistening fingers up to your mouth. You didn’t lick them clean, opting instead to suck on them so that Travis knew exactly what you were doing. He did. You could tell by the way he let a curse slip from his mouth and when you took your hand away from your mouth, you did so with a satisfied hum.

“Good girl,” he praised, evidently straining.

Whether it was your heightened sensitivity, his words or a mix of both, the same dull white-hot heat crawled across your already warm skin. You allowed yourself an extra moment to compose yourself before the idea struck you as soon as your limbs ceased feeling like jelly.

“I want to ride you, Travis,” you declared pushing yourself on your knees. You shrugged out of the shirt entirely, discarding it somewhere on the side of your bed and pulled one of your pillows lower down the mattress. “Imagine that. I’d be so warm for you, still so wet and loose. Bet I could take all of you at once,” you said, pitching your voice to a more playful though undoubtedly teasing tone. You pulled your panties to the side again before lowering yourself down on the side of the pillow, straddling it. “There’d really be no better time than now for you to be inside me properly, baby.”

“Fuck,” he bit out sharply and you heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting into his hand. And well, wasn’t that a thought?

You chuckled in response. “You’d let me fuck myself on you however I want to, right? I’ll start off slow. You already made me come once, so gotta take it nice and easy,” you told him, rolling your hips gently against the pillow between your legs. Still pretty sensitive, the friction of the cotton made you tremble when you rolled your hips against it, almost losing your balance but you managed to support yourself just in time by pressing your free palm against the headboard. “Ha… I’d feel so good around you, Travis. You know I would. And it’s all thanks to you,” you praised softly, moving your hips back and forth against the pillow. “I swear, I’ll end up thinking of how good you made me feel for days to come. I’ll think of you for nights to come.”

On the other end of the line, Travis groaned. “Only me,” he demanded and there was so much clarity in his tone that for a moment, you thought that was something he meant even outside of the heat of the moment.

“Only you,” you confirmed and knew there would be no lie in that whatsoever. “Who else do you think would get me to fuck against a fucking pillow, Travis?” A breathless, exhausted laugh left his mouth and you leaned forward, resting your forehead against the cushioned headboard. You could feel yourself approaching that very same edge again with every roll of your hip, every brush of the soft material against your sensitive clit and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back a shaky whimper. “Wish you were here though… I’d prefer you underneath me rather than a pillow. Doubt it appreciates the roll of my hips as much as you would, don’t you think?”

“Fuck, I’d be there in an instant if I could,” he agreed, voice tight. You’d bet anything his jaw was clenched, biting back on the back of his teeth.

One thing was for certain: occasionally, Travis made his emotions clear so easily, you could even read him over the phone. A part of you was focused on the way you ground your hips down against the pillow though you paid as close attention to the noises Travis was making; he didn’t deprive you of them. It was only as he hissed into the phone that it dawned on you just how unfair it was you couldn’t also see him. Couldn’t even think of the sort of expressions he was making solely because you knew the reality would just be so much better than what your mind could conjure through the haze of the moment. Frustrated, you rocked your hips against the pillow quicker, eyebrows furrowing a little as you whimpered at the friction. It wasn’t enough. It simply wasn’t enough. If anything, it was only adding fuel to a fire you hadn’t even managed to come close to at least dimming, if even a little bit.

“Travis, I’m close—fuck, I’m so—”

“I know, doll. Fuck, I know,” he said shakily and your name fell from his mouth gruffly, accompanied by a rough, drawn out moan that you knew would haunt you for as long as possible.

You fell forward against the headboard, blinking slowly as you stared down at the disheveled sheets. Vaguely, you could make out a small voice at the back of your head chastising you for needing to replace them even if you’d just changed them earlier in the day. And then, clearly, a louder, more rational voice suddenly snapped you to attention as the magnitude of your actions came at you like a bullet speed train with no breaks to hold it back. You swallowed quietly, heart hammering against the cage of your ribs. The feeling of frustration cleared the heavy post-orgasm fog fairly quickly and you wanted to yell. To scream and wish there was a way to turn back time.

This wasn’t how your evening was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be straddling a pillow, half naked with Travis’ heavy breathing in your ear after he guided you through two orgasms. Whatever it was you felt for him should’ve remained locked off in a box at the back of your mind, guarded by the loudest warnings possible so you knew never to touch. And yet here you were, past the blaring sirens, flashing neon lights and spray painted ‘STAND BACK!’ warnings and into a corner of your mind that now had Travis’ moans and the way he spoke your name recorded second by second.

“Fuck,” you whispered quietly, lips pressed against your forearm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Y/N, listen to me—”

“No. What the fuck? Travis, what the fuck did we—did I do?” In a flash, you scrambled off the bed but found you didn’t even know what to get started on. Ripping off the bedsheets? Reaching for the discarded shirt to cover yourself with as if that’d undone what was said and done? “Travis, you promised,” you said suddenly, vaguely recalling his words from earlier. “You said you’ll forget about it.”

On the other end of the line, you could just barely make out the sound of a roll of tissues being spun and then, a few seconds later, water being flushed. “You’re freaking out on me and you need to take a deep breath, okay?” Travis instructed.

You shook your head, to hell with whether he could see that or not. “No, no, you don’t understand—Travis, this shouldn’t have—It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Listen. Listen, Y/N,” he insisted more loudly when you were about to interrupt him. “And I will, okay? If it makes you feel better I can just… I’ll forget about it, okay? It didn’t happen if that’s what you want from me.”

“Okay,” you said, tone neutral. You ceased your pacing but didn’t stop from casting a glare towards your bed as if it was the very thing that pushed you to do what you’d done. “Okay. That’s—yeah. Yeah, let’s forget about it,” you concluded tightly, vehemently trying to deny to yourself that the head you felt behind your eyes wasn’t the telltale sign of approaching tears and rather it was…shame. “Thanks. Uh. Look, Travis, I have to go. I have to… I have something to do.” He didn’t respond for so long that you thought the call had ended. You had to take the phone away from your ear to check the seconds were still ticking upwards and when you noticed they were, you frowned. “Travis?”

“What are your plans?” he questioned, tone neutral.

Nothing aside from stripping my bed bare again and then taking a long, cold shower in hopes of not thinking about how you sounded like moaning in my ear, you thought. What you said instead was, “just”.

More silence. Again, you had to double check the call didn’t cut. “You meeting that friend of yours?”

“Which one?” you asked, genuinely confused and then it dawned on you: Troy. The guy who should’ve been in Travis’ position instead. “Oh. Uh. Maybe…maybe not. It’s pretty late, so…”

“Okay. Good. Yeah, good thinking. Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe don’t send photos like that next time. To anyone. Just in case the wrong person gets them again,” he suggested and there was a certain sharpness to his tone you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It wasn’t a demand, but it sure sounded like it cocooned in a half-hearted excuse. “Can’t be too careful these days.”

You swallowed, teeth clenching. Without thinking of it, you blinked rapidly several times and yeah, there they were. Those tears that’d threatened you only moments ago. You wished you could pour a bucket of ice over your feelings for Travis and wipe your hands clean of them instead of trying to distract yourself from them instead of searching for a convenient fuck and in turn, becoming a convenient fuck.

“I’ll pay closer attention next time, then,” you said by way of goodbye and ended the call before he could get another word in.

Across from you, a framed photo of just you and Travis taken during the previous summer vacation was staring up at you. His arm was thrown around your shoulders, trying to reel you in just a little closer despite the look of disgust on your face while he held up a fish by its hook in his other hand, head thrown back with laughter at your reaction. In two short strides, you lowered it face down on the dresser before rushing into the adjoining bathroom.

Regardless of how well you scrubbed your skin clean of all evidence to what you’d done, there was no soap and water that could wash away Travis’ praise and pet names. Certainly nothing that could remove the memory of how your name rolled off his tongue while at the height of his pleasure.

#travis konecny #travis konecny imagine #travis konecny fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fic #*#lol i forgot what the tags are #so i hope these work 🙃#aa feistykonecny url o7 gonna miss ya buddy lol #me: i'll re-edit this properly before posting!!!#me actually: *rearranges a few commas* :)

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qitwrites · 4 years ago

Text

traditions

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji/Fushiguro Megumi

A/N: I caught up with the manga, and shit’s pretty fucked, so I decided to amend that with fluff.

[AO3 Link]

Fushiguro - according to Kugisaki - is the textbook definition of a homosexual disaster.

No see, here’s the thing- everything was going fine. Great. No problems at all. Fushiguro respects his seniors, tolerates Gojo, and has the biggest soft spot for Inumaki, but he’s never been attracted to any one in his usual circle. So, school and sorcery and life in general was simple. No distractions, no crushes as such, no complications. All good.

And then Itadori Yuuji barges into his life and upends the fuck out of it by eating a special grade cursed object to save him. Then he joins Jujutsu Tech, and now they work and train and study and live alongside one another.

The thing is, Itadori is cute as fuck. 10/10 would tap that, any day of any week.

It’s not that Fushiguro has a type or anything, but Itadori just ticks all his boxes. When Todo had bullheadedly asked him what kind of person he likes, he’d said anyone with a strong moral compass that doesn’t waver in their resolve.

That’s Itadori in a nutshell.

Also, doesn’t hurt that he’s like, stupidly hot either. His raw physical prowess is reflected on his body in the form of shapely muscles, hard abs, and wide forearms that look like they could pick Fushiguro up and just throw him like a javelin. They actually can- Itadori had to do it for a mission this one time. Fushiguro enjoyed it immensely, and he will take this information with him to his grave.

So, not only is Itadori attractive and strong and of good character, but he’s also hella friendly. Fushiguro knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend- it takes a while for him to warm up to people, to share things about himself, to talk about the shitshow that is his family, but Itadori does not seem to give a single, flying fuck. He walks into Fushiguro’s life with the strength and ease of someone that just believes they belong. And Fushiguro lets him, because he is, as Kugisaki very accurately put it, a complete and utter homosexual disaster.

But it’s fine. Crushes happen all the time, and Fushiguro knows it’s hopeless and that’s ok. He knows Itadori likes him and cherishes their friendship, and that is enough. It will be. He’ll move on, and they’ll laugh about it in a few years (if they survive) and it’ll be great. In the meantime, he’s going to hole up in his room and read non-fiction books and stay away from pink hair and large toothy smiles.

Of course, the first person to fuck up his plans is Itadori.

It’s Saturday night, and dinner had been a simple meal of rice, miso soup and some sides made by Itadori. He’s a really good cook, and the home food is such a welcome change from the bento boxes Fushiguro normally picks up from the convenience store. Sometimes, Itadori will drag Fushiguro into the kitchen to teach him a thing or two, and Fushiguro learns, and pines, and smacks Itadori when he says something especially idiotic. It’s routine. It’s nice.

Dinner was an hour ago, and now he’s just curled up in bed with his book. It’s shaping up to be a typical weekend, which is nice considering the number of missions they picked up last week. His bones are aching a little, his feet are slightly sore, and he knows he’s going to sleep like the dead tonight.

He hears the knock even though it’s a bit soft. Fushiguro sits up and cocks his head. Was he imagining it?

And then there’s another knock, more confident. Thud thud thud.

Fushiguro climbs out of bed, setting his book aside carefully. He stretches his hands over his head and walks over to the door. ‘Coming.’

He swings it open, and he sees pink hair and his heart just sort of beats out of his chest.

‘Hiya.’ Itadori’s smile is wide, trusting, and full of gusto. He holds a packet of chips in one hand and a laptop in the other.

‘What’s up?’

‘Are you busy?’

He should say he is. If he says he’s busy, then he doesn’t have to let Itadori in and he can continue with Operation: get over Itadori Yuuji. It’s the most logical move.

‘No, why do you ask?’ Well, apparently his brain has detached from his mouth.

‘Well, I overheard you telling Kugisaki that you’ve never seen the Saw movies and I realized something. Something terrible.’

Fushiguro tenses. ‘And what’s that?’

‘I can’t be best friends with someone that’s never seen Saw.’ Itadori pouts cutely, and Fushiguro is this close to just walking off the face of the Earth. He leans into the door frame, needing the additional support.

‘And I don’t want anyone else to be my best friend. So, the only solution is to make you watch Saw! With me! Like, right now.’

Fushiguro feels so much all at once- he wants to pull Itadori into a hug, he wants to jump off his balcony, he wants to slam the door shut and just cry, and he wants to watch stupid movies with this stupid man.

‘If you get crumbs on my bed, I’m going to kick you in the stomach.’

Itadori beams, and Fushiguro is a lost cause.

There’s a bit of adjusting (Fushiguro, your pillows are too hard, let me go grab mine) and a bit of remodelling (What do you mean we can’t make a blanket fort, that’s literally half the movie experience) and after relenting to a weird half-assed tent structure, the two of them huddle on the bed, backs against the wall, laptop placed on a chair by their feet with a bag of chips between them.

Saw is a terrible movie.

There’s gore and screaming and a creepy dude running around and it’s honestly just horrendous. The main character calls himself Jigsaw, and Fushiguro is tempted to flip the laptop after the hundredth blood spill. He looks over at Itadori who’s completely engrossed, eyes reflecting the colours and flashes of light on the screen. It’s cute, the concentration he’s pouring into it. His hand is stuck in the bag of chips and Fushiguro smacks it away to grab a few of his own.

Fushiguro does his best to watch and gets into it at least a little. It’s bad, but it’s not the worst way to spend a weekend night. He admits that a huge reason why the experience is kinda fun is that he’s doing something with Itadori that isn't life-threatening, which is a refreshing change.

The end credits start rolling and Itadori stretches his arms, fingers pushing through the droopy tent roof.

‘What did you think?’

‘I’ve seen worse.’

Itadori laughs. ‘I know what you mean. It grows on you though.’

‘There’s more?’

Itadori looks at him, blinks, cocks his head. ‘You didn’t know?’

Fushiguro shrugs. ‘I’ve never been a movie buff, so I have no information on this.’

‘Fushiguro.’

‘What?’

‘There’s 9 movies.’

Fushiguro’s mouth drops. ‘What?’

‘Yup, there’s nine in total, and the tenth one is in the making.’

‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of movies in one franchise.’

‘Yup. And we’re watching all of them.’

Fushiguro’s eyes widen. ‘What? No way. Nope. Not a chance. I can’t handle more of this, it was barely tolerable.’

‘It doesn’t matter! It’s the principle of the thing- you’ve started the series so you might as well see it through.’

‘9 movies? How can they possibly have enough content for that?’

‘It’s what they do. I promise it gets better and worse.’

Fushiguro sighs. ‘I’m not getting out of this, am I?’

Itadori pushes into his shoulder playfully. ‘Nope. I’m getting more snacks next time, let’s do two movies.’

Fushiguro sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

He’s really struggling to pretend like he’s upset with this development. He’s not upset. He’s honestly anything but.

---

Itadori comes back next Saturday with some blankets and a pillow tucked under one arm and a laptop in the other. He has a grocery bag with chips and sour patch kids hanging between his teeth and he still manages to smile. Fushiguro is so done.

‘Are you a dog?’ he grumbles, plucking the bag out of his face and setting it by the bed. Itadori gets to work immediately, setting up the pillows and his sad excuse for a blanket fort while Fushiguro brings a bowl for the chips and candy. Once they’ve settled in, Itadori starts the second movie and Fushiguro resigns himself to his fate.

It’s really not that bad.

The movie is whatever, Fushiguro tunes in and out, alternating between watching the screen and sneaking looks at Itadori. He’s as engrossed as ever, and the tip of his tongue is sticking out in concentration and it’s so cute it makes Fushiguro want to curl up in his lap and squish him.

He’s crushing hard. Like, really hard. It’s about the gayest thing he’s ever experienced.

The movie pushes on, and they start to get more comfortable. Itadori isn’t a talker, which is surprising and nice, but when the movie lulls, he does make a joke or two. They sink lower into the bed, and by the end of the movie, they’re firmly pressed into each other from shoulder to thigh, with the bowl of chips on Fushiguro’s lap and the candy in Itadori’s.

Itadori is really warm. Could be his natural body heat, could be the king of curses residing within him, could be Fushiguro’s imagination- who’s to say at this point?

When the credits roll, Itadori stretches again like a cat in the sun, groaning his satisfaction. Fushiguro rubs his temples and wills away his blush.

‘What did you think?’

‘Not terrible, but honestly, what the fuck?’

‘That pretty much sums up the franchise.’

Itadori loads up the next movie while Fushiguro stays in position, comfortable. When he’s done, he leans back and makes himself comfortable against Fushiguro’s side, head leaning against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against bone. He looks smooshed, and it’s ridiculous.

If he gave a single shit about the movie, he’d ask him to move because he’s so far gone now there’s no way he’d pay attention at all.

Fushiguro doesn’t say a word, just sends up a silent prayer that Itadori remains there, pushed into him and all up in his space, for the rest of the evening.

That’s exactly what he does.

---

Fushiguro’s feet are burning.

The soles are achy all over, tender and jolty. Any time he walks, he suppresses a hiss of pain. When he’d taken a look, the entire sole was an angry red, and he’s just so annoyed.

The week had been tough- tons of running around and multiple search and rescue missions and this one tenacious curse that he and Itadori had to chase for several miles before finally exorcising it. By the end of it all, his feet were burning like a low fire in the pits of hell.

Itadori is fine, as always. It’s probably an incredible combination of his own inherent athleticism and lord dipshit within him, but Itadori heals at an accelerated pace, and like, he came back from the dead. Sore feet would be nothing to this guy.

When Itadori knocks on the door as always, an hour after Saturday night dinner, Fushiguro just calls out, ‘Come in.’ He really doesn’t want to walk to the door, so he’d left it open intentionally.

Itadori struggles to open the door on his own, arms filled with so much stuff it’s overflowing everywhere, and that horribly lovely smile is still stretched across his face and Fushiguro is just so smitten it’s ridiculous.

Itadori throws a few pillows in his direction, places a frankly ridiculous amount of snacks at the foot of the bed, and starts building his fort. Fushiguro is yet to help him with this, to actually put in any effort and make it with him rather than just watch him with a bemused smirk, but part of him knows that if he joins in, he’s admitting to something. He’s admitting that he’s invested. That he likes this as much as Itadori, probably so much more. That he likes Itadori so much, it’s all-consuming.

Itadori gives him the laptop while he makes some finishing touches on the fort, and he’s gotten better over the last few weeks. The tent is less saggy, with more room to move around and its range is expanding. It no longer covers just the bed, it extends to his desk and is inching towards his closet. Itadori is taking over his room, his heart, his brain, his life. He keeps taking and taking and taking, and Fushiguro just gives him more, happily, heartbreakingly, with all the love and nonchalance and patience he can muster.

He’s so whipped he’s giving Kugisaki a headache. She’s told him as much, repeatedly.

He’s got the final Saw movie prepped and ready to go, positioning the laptop on the chair as usual. Itadori grabs the bowls and decants their snacks before sitting next to Fushiguro, his head automatically resting on the man’s shoulders. Fushiguro rests his head on Itadori’s soft pink hair, breathing in the scent of the shampoo Itadori always steals from Kugisaki, and muffles a laugh. It’s so silly.

They’re about mid-way through the movie (by movie 9 there’s no milking the plot, it’s them just beating a dead horse ruthlessly) when Fushiguro shifts his legs and his feet bump into the chair, and he bites out a yelp of pain. Itadori sits up immediately, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

‘You ok?’

Fushiguro waves him down, wincing. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.’

‘Did you stub your toe? That’s one of the worst feelings ever. And I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest. And lost an arm. And I’ve been stabbed repeatedly. Amongst other things.’

‘I didn’t stub my toe. And also, what the fuck, are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ Itadori laughs easily. ‘Seriously, what’s wrong?’

‘My feet hurt,’ Fushiguro admits with a defeated sigh. ‘We’ve been moving about a lot, and after that pineapple fucker two days ago, my feet have just gotten really sore. I soaked them in hot water a few hours ago, I think I should be fine by Monday.’

Itadori eyes him suspiciously.

‘I’m not lying dumbass. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this horrible movie over with.’

Itadori hums, turning back to the screen. A minute later, he looks over at Fushiguro.

‘Well, I’m going to apologize for this in advance.’

‘Apologize for wh- HEY!’

Itadori, with his stupidly inhumane strength, yanks Fushiguro’s legs off the edge of the bed and right into his lap. Fushiguro is now laying down with his head resting against the headboard, and he’s about to kick out when Itadori just digs his thumbs into the arch of his feet and Fushiguro narrowly stops himself from moaning obscenely.

He has died and ascended. His soul is no longer in this realm of existence. It has found peace. The meaning of life. Attained nirvana. He can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s seriously that good.

Because Itadori is strong. He’s really strong, so his movements are sure and deep. His thumbs are pushing against the arch, into the heel of his foot, pushing into that junction where his toes meld into the sole, and it’s so damn good. Fushiguro squirms.

‘How are you- ah shit, right there -how are you so good at this?’

Itadori throws him an easy smile. ‘Used to massage grandpa’s feet all the time. Became an expert over time, especially because I had a lot of his nurses guiding me as well. Is it ok?’

Fushiguro tries to throw him a deadpan look but then Itadori’s thumbs just push into a particularly sore spot and Fushiguro’s eyes roll back into his skull. When he’s able to pull himself together, he looks at the pink-haired man, feeling breathless.

‘It feels great. If you tell a single soul, I will drop kick you.’

Itadori’s laugh is loud and boisterous, and it fills the room completely, saturates it with this feeling of ease and honesty.

‘This stays here, no worries. Like a Las Vegas thing.’

Fushiguro smiles at the stupid reference.

After a few minutes pass by, Fushiguro reluctantly starts pulling his feet away. ‘You’ve done more than enough,’ he starts to say. Itadori wraps his fingers around his ankles, holding him in place.

‘I can honestly do this for hours, it’s fine. You can see the screen, right?’ Fushiguro nods immediately. ‘So, let’s just keep watching. I’ll stop if I’m tired, ok?’

Fushiguro relents without a fight because it’s the most relief he’d gotten in ages, and Itadori is touching him and he’s weak in every possible way and he lets himself be. Just this once.

They finish the movie (thank goodness it’s over) and Itadori continues to massage his feet as they discuss what the 10th movie could possibly be like. They discuss theories and plot holes, and Itadori doesn’t let go, his hands inching up and massaging his calves as well, and fuck if Fushiguro’s going to stop him because it feels good. He’s gay and Itadori is hot and his fingers are actual magic- like, they put sorcery to shame.

When it’s well past midnight and Itadori yawns a few times, Fushiguro finally sits up, pulling his feet out of Itadori’s grasp. The pink-haired man lets his hands linger for as long as possible, and Fushiguro decides he’s just imagining it. Surely.

‘I kinda, I mean, I want to repay you for that. You massaged me for hours, you know.’

Itadori pretends to think for a second before breaking into a bright, 100-megawatt smile.

‘Well then, let’s watch more movies! Let’s just make this movie night! We can watch stuff you look up as well, we can watch anything.’

Fushiguro stares at him, stunned. He hadn’t been expecting that and truth be told, he was really sad the Saw franchise was over because he assumed that would be the end of this, and he was too shy to ask what Itadori was so easily asking him. To see Itadori so excited at the prospect of an actual movie night, with no end in sight, made his heart leap and throb and squeeze. It was incredible.

‘Deal.’ He keeps his voice level and his face neutral, but he can’t hide his eyes and Itadori reads him in a second and his smile softens. He knows him so well now, like the back of his hand.

Itadori bids him a soft goodnight, collecting his stuff and shuffling back to his room slowly. Fushiguro falls asleep quickly, and it's deep and dreamless.

He wakes up to painless feet. It’s a miracle in every single way.

---

When Itadori gently pulls his feet into his lap the next weekend, Fushiguro doesn’t bother protesting it. He just gives him a slightly exasperated sigh, a soft smile and hits play.

They’ve decided to pick up the How to train your dragon franchise this time, as a welcome change of pace.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Well, it’s honestly all in the title. It’s about dragons and Vikings and it’s funny and it has great music!’ Itadori lights up while talking about it, and his energy is so damn contagious. Fushiguro feels himself getting hyped. ‘I think you’ll like it. Especially since you have those cool Shikigamis, you might relate to this more!’

Fushiguro hums, and they watch. Fushiguro routinely pushes pieces of chips and sour candy into Itadori’s mouth, and Itadori’s fingers become well-acquainted with the planes and bumps and grooves of his feet, and the shape of his calves.

Fushiguro gets really into the movie.

Not only is the animation top-notch, but the voice actors are great, the storyline is gripping, and Toothless is so childish and sweet and endearing, his heart aches with love. He barely pays attention to Itadori this time. He seems just as invested, even if it’s the hundredth time he’s rewatching it.

To Fushiguro’s surprise, he chokes up at the end, after the big battle. The whole scene feels strangely familiar in some ways, and he tries desperately to hide his growing discomfort. He peaks over at Itadori and his eyes widen.

Itadori is swallowing hard, his eyes shining and glistening with unshed tears. His grip on Fushiguro is tight as hell, but not painful. He’s barely holding on, it seems.

So Fushiguro looks away, and lets himself feel. He doesn’t cry, but it’s damn near the same feeling.

Itadori’s knowing smirk is as annoying as it is stupidly kissable.

‘You seemed to enjoy that!’

‘It was decent. Much better than all the Saw movies combined.’

Itadori barks out a laugh. ‘Decent, he says. I saw you nearly crying through my own tears. And you were glued to the screen. Such a liar.’

Fushiguro relents. ‘Fine, it was really good. I’m hooked, and I cant wait to see the other 2 movies.’

‘You know I’ll be here.’

Fushiguro is helpless against his blush. He barely hides it in the crook of his elbow. Itadori’s fingers are still pressing into his feet and it’s all so much but not enough. His heart still aches.

‘And the next two movies are visual masterpieces. Can’t wait to get into it all!’

Fushiguro nods, and with the promise of next week, he sleeps just a little easier.

---

When Itadori pulls his feet into his lap three weeks in a row, Fushiguro decides it’s time he does more to repay the pink-haired man. It’s definitely not enough to just grace Itadori with his presence and with a weekly movie night.

So, when they come together to watch the third and final How to train your dragon movie, Fushiguro stands in his room, chewing his lower lip anxiously. He feels like he may have gone overboard, and he’s more scared of being found out by Itadori, about his feelings and his hopelessly ginormous crush and just how big of a complete and utter disaster he is than anything else.

Before he can take it down though, Itadori walks in after a quick knock and a shout of Pardon the intrusion but not reaaallllyyyy.

He walks in, snack bag in his mouth, arms holding way too much stuff, and gives Fushiguro a grin before turning to the bed to start his usual set-up routine. That’s when he stops dead on his feet, and Fushiguro at least enjoys the look of complete and utter shock on his face. The snack bag drops to the ground before Fushiguro can catch it with a loud thunk.

So, here’s a fun fact about Fushiguro- he can build insane blanket forts. No, really, you don’t understand, he could be mistaken for an architect because that’s how good he is. And the reason is a bit long and a bit complicated, but it mostly has to do with his sister. When they were left all alone in the world, sharing a small space just between the two of them, they would build blanket forts with all the stuff lying around the house, and within those sheets, they were shielded from the world and all its horrors. They did it for a long time, and it was their tradition. They got better at it over the years, learning what sheets worked best, what make-shift supports held things up at the right height, where to place the pillows.

The minute Fushiguro started to put the fort together, his muscle memory kicked in and took it from there. It brought forth some memories that made him choke up, but he focused on Itadori, and it helped. He adjusted the height to accommodate two growing boys instead of two tiny humans, and before he knew it, the fort had sprawled to encompass his entire room. He borrowed pillows from Inumaki and Panda, who were willing albeit slightly perplexed, and he grabbed Kugisaki’s fairy lights to really spruce things up. The weather had gotten colder, so he had also laid out his thick duvet for them to slip under, and the icing on the cake was the pizza he had ordered. Itadori always bought the snacks, so he wanted to pull his own weight. Also, they were active jujutsu sorcerers- they may have eaten dinner an hour ago, but they were always hungry. It was endless.

Itadori remains rooted in place, and Fushiguro starts to get nervous. A bit anxious. A bit scared. What if it is too much? Had he overstepped in some way? Or what if Itadori looked forward to building the fort and Fushiguro had taken that away from him?

Itadori slowly looks at him, eyes piercing and unreadable and bright.

And then he smiles. The world rights itself a little.

And he smiles big, huge, all-encompassing. Its lips stretched over white teeth and his eyes are crinkling in that really lovely way and the dimples are dotting his cheeks and its utter magic.

‘Fushi,’ Itadori gushes, almost breathless. ‘This is insane. How the hell did you do this?’

Fushiguro bites his lip. ‘You like it?’

‘Like? Fushi, dude, my man, my guy, like doesn’t begin to cover it! I don’t have better words cause I’m kind of an idiot, but it’s. Like. A+. 11/10. I’m so impressed right now.’

And now Fushiguro is smiling with him, stomach flopping around endlessly, and he’s young and in love and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

‘I also got pizza,’ Fushiguro gestures to the table behind him, picking the snack bag off the floor and placing it by the bed. ‘I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got the same thing you ordered when I was sick.’

Itadori happily bounds over to the box and leans in for a sniff.

‘I love this stuff, it’s yum. And it’s still steaming, all fresh and hot.’ Itadori gives him a big thumbs-up. ‘This is so bomb Fushi, thank you so much!’

Fushiguro almost says No thank you, you’ve been doing so much for our movie nights and I wanted to show you how grateful I am for you and for all of this and I love you so please take my heart and just keep it, I really don’t need it, you know?

What he says instead is, ‘Not a problem. Shall we set up?’

And so, 10 minutes later finds them curled up in their usual spots, except this time they’re under the covers. Fushiguro places all the food between them, and Itadori alternates between massaging his feet (which he cleans meticulously before their movie nights because he doesn’t want Itadori to eat with dirty feet hands) and taking bites of pizza and smiling and laughing and choking up at the movie.

The trilogy ends and Fushiguro can honestly see why Itadori has watched this countless times. It’s just that good.

If Itadori hears him sniffle, he doesn’t say a word. Just squeezes his calf and runs his fingers from his knees to his ankles and Fushiguro realizes, in that moment, that a part of him will always belong to this man.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. They’ve now finished the Saw franchise, the HTTYD trilogy, the Batman trilogy, and the entire Annabelle series. If Fushiguro didn’t hate dolls before, well, now the thought of them sends shivers up his spine. And he fights curses. For a living.

Life is weird.

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Sometimes it’s Sunday night instead, or Friday. Sometimes it’s earlier in the day, in the afternoon maybe. Sometimes, it’s really late at night, so late that by the time they’re done, it’s already 3am and the world is silent. The world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of Fushiguro’s room, and he’s ok with that.

On those nights, Itadori stays over.

They curl up on his bed together, not quite touching but not quite not touching. It’s a single bed and they’re not small by any means. The touching is inevitable. Fushiguro wonders if any part of it is voluntary.

He learns that Itadori’s toes are always warm, unlike Fushiguro’s. He’s a surprisingly calm sleeper. His sleep-heavy voice is deep, and his sleep-heavy smile is soft.

They fall asleep facing away from one another, they wake up spooning or being spooned. They don’t say a word. And they don’t stop.

The night that they finish the latest Annabelle movie, Itadori looks insanely freaked out and Fushiguro doesn’t blame him. That shit’s creepy as hell.

The problem is that it’s only 00:14. Too early for them to call for a sleepover unprompted.

Itadori’s got Fushiguro’s legs in his lap, and he’s pursing his lips as if deep in thought. Fushiguro thinks fuck it.

‘Do you want to stay over?’

The relief flows off Itadori in waves. ‘You’re an actual lifesaver, you know that right?’

Fushiguro smirks, and they throw snarky comments back and forth between them as they get ready for bed. Itadori brings his toothbrush and they clean up side by side, fighting for the mirror. They take the fort down methodically, like a well-oiled machine, and they curl up under the duvet, touching but not quite touching, facing away from one another.

15 minutes later, Fushiguro feels Itadori curled around him, legs tangled and arm carefully slipped over his middle. He feels him shake, and he can taste the hesitation and he knows Itadori will move away soon because they both know they’re both awake.

He moves his hand lower and places it over Itadori’s. He squeezes it once, and moves it away, and evens out his breathing. He feels himself drifting off, and the last thing he feels is Itadori’s arm curling around him just a little tighter, holding him just a little closer. The air tastes less hesitant, more hopeful.

It’s wonderfully frightening.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Until one day, they do.

The thing about Sukuna is that he’s the King of Curses, Lord Asshat extraordinaire, and an overall terrible being. Not only does he reside in Itadori rent-free, he also chooses when to heal him and when to watch from the sidelines as blood gushes out of wounds that are near-fatal. Itadori’s pain tolerance is impossibly high, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.

Itadori feels everything. He feels so much, so willingly, so wholeheartedly. He’s a feeler.

And so, when one of their missions go haywire (as always), Itadori risks his life for his classmates (as always), and is left on the verge of death (as always). The only difference being he doesn’t improve. At least not at that inhumane pace that he always does.

He’s not dead, but he’s not in the world of the living either. He’s drifting somewhere in between, and Fushiguro feels like he’s drowning. He can’t get enough air; he can’t see beyond the murky waters that are darker than ink.

Fushiguro is in the in-house hospital on campus and he rarely, if ever, leaves Itadori’s side. The incident took place on a Tuesday and it is now Saturday. Itadori’s vitals are stable, his heart is in his chest, beating, and his blood is circulating and oxygenating him.

He does not wake up, he does not speak, and he does not smile.

Something in Fushiguro’s chest cracks.

People come by to visit all the time. Nobara brings snacks and chats with Itadori like he’s ok, like he’ll respond. Only Fushiguro hears the tremor in her voice. Maki holds back from smacking someone in a coma, vowing to get him good when he’s awake for doing something so monumentally dumb. Gojo flits in and out as often as he can, and he always squeezes Fushiguro’s shoulder with a tightness that eases his chest just a little before leaving again.

After dinner on Saturday, Fushiguro decides to do something.

He lets himself into Itadori’s room- messy but not sloppy, and simple. He finds his laptop on his desk and charges it for a bit before taking it back with him. He doesn’t set up a blanket fort, simple loads up a Christopher Nolan movie that they’d decided on last week and lets it play.

He holds Itadori’s hand the entire time. It doesn’t squeeze back.

The crack in his chest widens.

---

He’s not there when Itadori wakes up.

Gojo had pushed him out of the room to go take a shower and grab a proper meal and maybe even take a nap, and Fushiguro had relented to two of the three- showering and eating. With a belly full of terrible convenience store food that could never hope to hold a candle to Itadori’s meals, Fushiguro slowly makes his way back to the infirmary when he hears voices. One voice, in particular, stops him in his tracks.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My mouth tastes like ass.’

It’s one of the first things Itadori has said in a week and a half, and something between a laugh and a sob gets stuck in Fushiguro’s chest. He moves to yank the door open and throw himself at Itadori when he hears-

‘Where’s Fushi?’

‘Oh, he went to take a shower, clean up a little, all that.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Fuck, he sounds disappointed.

‘Don’t look so upset.’ Gojo teases. ‘He hasn’t left your side since you got hurt, you know?’

‘Really?’

Gojo hums. ‘He’s here all day. He tried working for a day or two, but his head wasn’t in it, so we forced him to sit out for a bit. He’s just been keeping you company here, reading, fretting, pining.’

Fushiguro wants to punch Gojo.

Itadori barks out a laugh. It sounds loud and forced and not very happy.

‘Don’t tease me about that sensei. That’s cruel, even for you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘I want to be sure. I’m not a mind-reader you know. So tell me,’ Gojo urges, ‘what are you talking about?’

Itadori sighs. It sounds exhausted more than pained. ‘I’ve liked him since the day we fought the curse and saved my senpais. It’s cruel for you to tease me about a one-sided crush.’

Fushiguro is suddenly numb, hot and cold everywhere, and his head is spinning, an echo of ‘I’ve liked him I’ve liked him’ just bouncing around his brain endlessly. He has to force himself to concentrate or risk missing out more of the conversation.

‘I mean, why do you think it’s one-sided?’

‘Are you kidding me? He’s so out of my league, I can’t even think about it. He’s so. Just. Everything good in this world. And he likes dogs sensei, what more could I want in a person?’

Fushiguro’s vision is just swimming and he wants to smother Itadori in a hug and protect him forever. His feet are taking longer to respond to his brain though.

‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Gojo sings, laughing. ‘My advice would be to not give up. You’d be good for each other, you know? Also, he’s really not all that perfect. Trust me, I’ve known him since he was a child. This one time, during the spring festival, he-‘

‘Itadori, you’re awake?’

Evidently, his self-preservation instincts had bypassed his brain and forced his legs to move at near inhumane speed. God bless instincts.

Itadori is sitting up, and he looks a bit frail but the color in his cheeks is steadily returning. His eyes widen in surprise before his mouth twists up in a grin so wide Fushiguro is worried he’ll break his face. His eyes are molten, watery, and brighter than the sun.

‘Hi Fushi.’

For once, Fushiguro doesn’t give a two shit flying fuck that Gojo is in the room and will hence tease him for the rest of his life, he just walks over to the bed and gathers Itadori into a hug and holds him there, pressing his warmth into Itadori. There’s the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the smile on his lips pressed into Fushiguro’s shoulder.

The world rights itself on its axis, just a little more.

‘Idiot.’

Itadori’s muffled laugh makes him grin, and he pulls away. He rearranges his face in a scowl.

‘I told you before if you die on me-‘

‘-you’ll kill me yourself. I know, I know. I’m here Fushi, you don’t have to become a murderer. It’s a good day.’

Fushiguro lets his face morph back into a grin before looking over at Gojo. His teacher’s smirk tells him everything- how he knew where Fushiguro was, how he’s seen right through Fushiguro, how he’s going to tease him till the day either of them die. And Fushiguro wants to be annoyed and pissed off but he can’t bring himself to care, not right now.

Itadori’s heart is beating in his chest, and he smiles at Fushiguro, and his cheeks are tinting pink.

Fushiguro’s heart is full.

---

‘Sorry I missed movie night.’

Itadori’s apology is so stupid Fushiguro nearly gwaffs, but that’s undignified as fuck so he settles for a cough and a withering stare.

‘I mean, it’s not like you were in a coma or anything.’

‘You know what I mean! But anyway, I’m here now, so let’s pick up where we left off.’

‘No, we’ll have to move on to the next movie. We watched that one last week.’

‘Huh?’

Fushiguro looks at him, prays he isn’t seven shades of red. ‘Well, I thought maybe if we had a movie night at the infirmary, you’d feel better. Where you were. Especially if you were dealing with lord fuckwad. You know?’

Itadori stares at him in awe and chuckles softly. ‘You’re something else, you know? Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out.’

Gojo’s word reverberate around his skull and Fushiguro just clears his throat. ‘Yeah, well, I’m all about surprising people. Woohoo.’

Itadori bursts out laughing, and they go back to setting up the fort, the pizza, the snacks, the lights, the laptop. It’s easy and familiar and nice. They settle into the mattress, but Fushiguro doesn’t let Itadori take his feet this time, opting to press into his side instead. Itadori barely puts up a fight.

They’re roughly 8 minutes into Interstellar when Itadori asks, ‘How did you set up the movie in the infirmary?’

Fushiguro hums, ‘I grabbed your laptop and put it on a chair to your left. I sat on the right. I sat by your bed and I…’

‘And you?’

Fushiguro should be nervous but he’s not. He’s surprised by how not nervous he is.

‘And I did this.’ He laces their hands together, eyes trained on Itadori's.

It’s like looking at a bowl of liquid amber. His eyes are light brown, bordering on gold, and they’re mesmerizing when you’re this close. He doesn’t look away from Fushiguro, his breath doesn’t stutter, he doesn’t jerk away. He squeezes Fushiguro’s hand with his right one and slowly brings up the left. He rests it on Fushiguro’s jaw, soft skin meeting calloused fingers and there’s a heat building under Fushiguro’s skin that makes him feel that same hot and cold sensation everywhere.

‘I’m going to kiss you.’

Itadori’s voice is deeper than Fushiguro’s ever heard it, low and spicy and sure. His hands are gentle and confident.

Fushiguro doesn’t nod or say Yes or blush.

He just brings his right arm up, wraps it around Itadori’s left wrist and leans in, bringing them together in what is possibly the softest touch of lips ever, in the history of the universe.

It’s not hesitant, it’s just new. And all-encompassing. And maddeningly good. And soft.

Itadori’s breath hitches and he leans his head, slotting their lips together better and Fushiguro is humming because fucking hell is this good. There’s no tongue, just pressure and nips and small licks and bites. By the end of it, Fushiguro is smiling into Itadori’s smile, and he’s kissing it and nuzzling it and he’s drowning in the best way possible.

Itadori finally pulls away, after several small kisses, and does that beaming smile that makes Fushiguro’s stomach do really terrible things.

‘I can’t believe all this happened because of Saw.’

Fushiguro’s smile shrivels away in a heartbeat and Itadori is laughing and snorting, the bastard.

‘Itadori Yuji.’

More laughter.

‘I swear on all that is good and pure, if you tell people we got together because of Saw, I will dump your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for weeks.’

Itadori laughs some more and presses his giggles against Fushiguro’s lips and dammit he’s so weak and gay.

Itadori’s hand slips down his jaw and cups the back of his neck and he pulls him close, pressing their foreheads together.

‘We both know that’s not true.’

Damn it. He really does know Fushiguro like the back of his hand.

And so he does the only thing he can think of- he kisses him again. And again. And then some more, just because he can.

The movie remains forgotten, and frankly, they couldn’t care less.

#jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #itafushi #itadori x fushiguro #jjk fic #fluff #so much fluff #and movie nights #pining #this is just fushiguro pining #itadori is a good friend #the goodest #jjk #hi hello i hope you all like this #and i hope everyone's doing ok and staying safe!!#much love to you all

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years ago

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P2 A Nice Catch

Part 1 here

(NOT A PROMPT)

Oooh, A Nice Catch was *chef's kiss*. Could you continue it? Maybe completely, not thinking straight, grief-stricken villain goes after Supervillain and the supervillain hurts him because the villain is very dangerous/angry and then maybe the Supervillain has to caretaker because they have a bleeding, sobbing villain at his feet.

Sorry if that seems bossy or specific, but i really loved the piece and my brain went haywire with all the possible endings. But do whatever you want to.

Not bossy at all <3

******

Flashing red lights on a Saturday. Supervillain sighed. The sound was probably the most obnoxious part of it all. No matter. Needs to be dealt with. Even his thoughts were gruff and tired. He would never admit it to anyone else but tracking down that little rat and weakening her was difficult. No wonder Villain struggled with her so much. Doesn’t explain how he developed feelings for someone so righteous though.

‘I don’t know what your life has entailed but there are other ways of healing. I can help you.’ Hero had said to him upon being captured.

Healing. Supervillain scoffed as he urged himself off the couch, turning the television off, and flipping off the lights, trying to make the quarters look vacant. There were various other electronics still on, but they were necessary for security- which was currently blaring.

I don’t need healing. I need power. Power to take down all those shitty, rich neighbourhoods. What good were they when so many people were left on the streets, starving, and begging for pocket change? The rich didn’t care, and for it they would perish. Villain used to agree.

Now, Villain was bent on a ‘The rich are a necessary part of the economy. Without them, there would be a middle class and the rest of the economy profits off the middle class,’ idea.

With a grumble, Supervillain left his lounging area, walking instead to the monitor room.

“Camera one, good. Camera two, fine. Cam three. Four. Five. Six. Then why the hell are the alarms going off?”

Not a single room revealed even a twitch of movement or a breeze to rattle lobby plants.

Ker-pshhh. The radio. The only other people working right now were part of the security faction. Meaning, Supervillain needed to respond, especially since the radio was going off. He grabbed the speaker off the side of the metal box and brought it to his mouth while holding the button. “What is it?” It no doubt had to do with the alarms.

“Sir? There’s been a breach in Building 2, third hall monitoring room. One body confirmed to be dead.”

“Any others?”

“No response from Radios 8 through 13. I’m in room Fourteen now…Sir? I think I’m next.”

Supervillain pinched his brow. “Have you gotten into contact with Buildings 3 and 4 yet?”

“No response from them. I’d gotten the alert from Radio 21 and sent it to Building 1 as soon as I got it. I don’t know who it is, Sir, but if they’ve made it as far as they have then I’m afraid-”

There was a crash on the other end of the radio before it cut out. Supervillain cursed under his breath before slamming a hand on the counter before him. He squeezed the button on the radio. “Whoever you are,” Supervillain growled into the speaker, “you’re dead.”

Silence.

Ker-pshhh.

“Oh, I’m very much alive,” a voice said. A voice which made Supervillain groan and slap his forehead with the blunt of his hand.

“Villain, what the hell are you doing?” His voice was more disappointed than anything and he released yet another groan. “Don’t tell me this is because of the rat.”

It didn’t take a second for Villain to respond. “She isn’t a rat.”

Isn’t. Oh boy, this was a case of grief, wasn’t it? “You didn’t dress her up and put her in your kitchen to eat breakfast with, did you?” Supervillain joked. “Probably had to spritz her with some of your cologne a few times, huh? Would smell like rotten meat otherwise.”

“You must want me to kill you. It’s why you tried to kill her, isn’t it? Isn’t it? You’re sick of living this sad and vengeful life, so you did the one thing that would piss me off enough to do this- to sabotage your own business.”

“Villain, old buddy, you’re in over your head.” A sigh. “I killed her, alright? She’s dead.” Supervillain refrained from calling Hero a rat for another time, seeing as it sent Villain over the edge. “And it was for your own good. You were becoming weak, and your business was falling because of it. Do you even realize how much fell apart all because you let her slither into your heart?”

“The old boxing pit on Third Street,” Supervillain explained, “underwent construction shortly before you were about to buy it. You know what was left at the scene- what the media didn’t cover? A mallet with Hero’s DNA on the handle. She smacked at the foundation, Villain, until it was bad enough to need repaired. What’d you go and do then? You bought a greenhouse instead- reported to your employees that it would benefit them because they wouldn’t need to go buy a lunch for themselves. She manipulated you, Villain, into someone you’re not.”

“She helped me become the best person I could be,” Villain gritted out, but his voice sounded with an echo. Supervillain paid it little mind.

“The rat changed your priorities.”

“They needed to be changed.” Supervillain squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing at the door slamming against a wall as Villain came crashing in. Well, that’s why I heard his voice twice. Once through a radio, and second through the door.

“That’s gonna cost you, but I tell you what.” Supervillain spun on a heel and told Villain, “You go in halfsies and I’ll let this whole thing slide.”

Nothing could have stopped the fist which Villain sent towards Supervillain, one nearly bone-crushing. One which sent Supervillain staggering back into his radio, pushing it up against the wall with a bang.

“I’m the one in the position to grant mercy, not you.” Villain began walking towards Supervillain as he regained himself but as Villain raised a fist, his old friend launched a hand of his own forward, grasping it tightly. In Villain’s shock, he lacked the response to pull away, and was instead pulled towards Supervillain while being turned, his back flush against Supervillain’s chest, his arm skewered behind his own back.

Of course, Villain fought against his old friend, wanting nothing other than to send another fast-flying fist in Supervillain’s face…or his groin.

“Villain. Villain, hey!” This made the more vengeful of the two cease his struggle. “Look, I know you’re mad, alright? You loved the ra- Hero, and you were blinded by that love, so much so that it clouded your judgement. It happens to the best of us, Villain.”

“You killed her.” Villain gave another jerk, this time with a tear in his eye. Realizing such raw emotion was leaking out, he corrected himself with a shout, “She was everything I had!”

Supervillain sighed, tightening his grip as Villain continued fighting him. “Yeah…you said that one before.” Supervillain let go, not waiting a moment before pushing Villain’s back, causing him to stumble forward, nearly passing through the door which he left open when he so rudely barged in. “Villain, listen to me, bud. You are better off without her. That love you felt was going to cause you to lose everything you worked so hard to build, and even if that weren’t the result, you would always have this internal conflict- to do-”

“To do the right or wrong thing?” Villain seethed, righting himself against the doorframe which Supervillain pushed him towards. “Supervillain, we’ve been doing wrong this whole time! Nothing we have done has been good by any moralistic means. We kill people.”

We kill people. Supervillain could almost laugh at the irony. “You killed at least one of my men today. One, which was confirmed out of twenty-eight. You’re just as bad as me.”

“Because you killed the one person in this world I could ever find myself loving.”

“You depended on her dammit! Don’t you see what I’m seeing? You don’t even know who you are without her coaxing her own ideas into your ear. You needed this. You needed her gone.”

“I needed her.” Villain’s voice finally broke like the day Hero was killed, when she was shoved through without remorse, discarded like a candy wrapper, and called a ‘rat’ without pause. “I needed her, and you stole her from me.”

Can’t bring her back, now, can I? But Supervillain didn’t say this, for he knew it was entirely pointless. Villain would just keep repeating those same few phrases, which Supervillain heard as, ‘I’m sad. You’re a monster and I can’t acknowledge myself as one. I miss my crutch and my ankle is always broken. Blah. Blah, blah. Blah, blah.’

“You need someone who you can rely on, who can rely on you just as easily, Villain.” Now onto the more sensitive topic once again. “I don’t remember you stepping forward to help Hero when she was shaking beneath my arm. You loved her, but not enough to sacrifice what we have here. We’re friends, Villain. We’ll always be friends. No one knows you as well as I and no one knows me as well as you.”

“Come sit down with me,” Supervillain finished. “In the lobby. I’ve got a few fridges, one with your name on it- literally. You stopped coming around, but I keep a stock of that weird soda you like.”

Supervillain was so casual, so friendly. It was as if he actually cared, had wanted to continue being friends, and had done everything he could to be friends. As much as him killing Hero hurt, as much as Villain wanted to hate him for it…it seemed as though Supervillain did it to help. Because Villain did rely on Hero, didn’t he? He looked to her for everything- even what food to buy. And the timing of the boxing pit was odd; what if Hero really did destroy it so that Villain would buy something else? Something that catered more to her own thoughts and reasoning than his own?

“I’ll sit down for one soda,” Villain said. “One.”

******

@digitalart-tw I considered being kind and bringing the Hero back. I really did. But the evil runs rampantly through my veins and knows no end.

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the-modernmary · 3 years ago

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always been a storm || hotchley (ch 1)

summary: Lots of people wondered about their love story. How they met, how they fell in love, and even how they fell apart. Haley likes to tell their story from end to beginning. Aaron tells it from the beginning to end. Somewhere along the way, they meet, and it always ends with a goodbye.

Author’s Note: This is inspired by the musical The Last Five Years, so I will be following that format. If you aren't familiar with it, it is told in opposite chronological directions from both character's POVs. So Haley's POV will start at the end of the relationship and move backwards, while Hotch's POV is going to start at the beginning and move forward. Hopefully it should be clear as you read. Also, since the writers couldn't decide how old Hotch was, I sort of played around with the years/canon timeline. But canon is just a suggestion anyway.

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Haley - 2009

Haley Brooks once told her sister about a boy who kissed her at the Pirates of Penzance cast party. She had said that she could see herself with this boy for the rest of her life and, when the couple got engaged five years later, Haley told her sister that she just knew that she was going to love this boy until the day she died.

Haley Hotchner never could have expected it would end like this: a serial killer, gun pressed to her temple, on the phone with her husband — ex-husband — and no way to protect her 5-year-old son, the little miracle she and Aaron never thought they were going to get.

“Tell Jack I need him working the case,” Aaron says through the phone, voice shaking, and Haley has no idea what Aaron could possibly mean by that.

“What?” she asks, even though she knows it’s futile. Years of chasing down serial killers and getting into their minds has made Aaron paranoid. He has backup plans for the backup plans of their backup plans. He has safety plans for anything that could possibly go wrong, some that even Haley doesn’t know, and this must just be another one of those plans.

Aaron repeats himself a little more forcefully, and that’s when Haley knows it’s over for her. At least Aaron is still alive, and not dead like she had been told he was. At least Jack won’t be completely orphaned. It was a small comfort.

If Jack survives, her brain reminds her unhelpfully, but she pushes that thought down. For all of Aaron’s faults, he’d never let anything happen to Jack. And if the only person Aaron saves is Jack, then Haley can die peacefully.

When she hugs Jack, she doesn’t even realize how tightly she’s holding him until he tells her, and it’s with reluctance that she loosens her grip. Logically, she knows it’s safer for Jack to go off and do whatever Aaron told him to do, but the motherly side of her brain is screaming to hold her baby boy to her chest and never let him go. She can keep him safe and protected from the world, she just knows it. She’s protected him this long from the reality of the world - fed him stories of villains and superheroes to try and explain where his dad was and why his dad so often woke up in tears - so she can do it just a while more.

And if she can’t protect him, she selfishly wants to keep Jack close to her for a little longer, for both of their sakes. For Jack, she wants his last memory of her to be one of happiness and love — a final hug from his mom who loves him so, so much. For Haley, well, she needs that last bit of bravery. Aaron keeps telling her to be brave and to not show The Reaper any weakness, but she’s never been that person. She’s always been the emotional and dramatic one of the marriage.

(If she had more time, she might have considered that, no, she actually wasn’t the dramatic one and that up until the bitter end, she had been reasonable and willing to compromise, and it was Aaron who believed the weight of humanity was on his shoulders, despite the fact that he was nothing more than a man. But no one would ever believe that Aaron Hotchner was overemotional, and like most things, it’s just easier to put it on Haley.)

As if reading her mind, Aaron’s voice cuts through the silence. “You’re so strong, Haley, stronger than I ever was,” he assures her, and she can’t find the right words to say, not when her mind is racing a million miles a minute.

She thinks of her sister, her best friend in the whole world, and how she never got to say goodbye. They had been planning on taking Jack on a weekend camping trip when Haley got pulled into WitSec. There had been no fanfare, no tearful farewell. Just a nondescript car from the hospital to a nondescript building where Haley Brooks went to disappear. She wasn't able to tell Jessica that she loves her or to thank her for everything she had given up for Haley. Now Jessica was going to lose her little sister.

And her dad… God, the last thing Haley did with her dad was fight with him. It was something so stupid, too — Roy had insisted on Jack going into Pop Warner football even after Haley had told him multiple times that she didn’t want Jack starting in such a high contact sport so early on in his life. They had gone back and forth on it for close to an hour before Haley had stormed out in tears because if she had to hear one more word about “Jack needs to develop tougher skin” and “he should be around more male figures, it'll be good for him” as if it was Haley’s fault that Aaron didn’t make it to see Jack the past two weeks, she was going to lose it.

God, she was so bone-deep, achingly exhausted of everything always being her fault.

“You’ll hurry, right?” she asks, eyes never leaving the Reaper. He’s stalking across the room, gun hanging lazily at his side.

“I know you didn’t sign on for this,” Aaron starts, and it’s not lost on Haley that he avoided her question.

Still, she doesn’t need an explicit answer from him. The Reaper is behind her now, his hot breath creeping down her neck and the column of her spine, meeting perfectly halfway with the tip of his gun. “Neither did you.”

The conversation somehow switched from comfort to a goodbye without either of them ever realizing it. “I’m sorry for everything.”

The cold steel of The Reaper’s gun nudges against Haley’s back. A braver, tougher person than Haley might have fought back - might have elbowed him in the gut and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine and escaped - but Haley’s accepted her fate. All she’s able to do now is grip the phone a little tighter. It’s the closest thing she has to holding Aaron’s hand one last time.

“Promise me that you will tell him how we met,” she starts, and her voice becomes steadier and more confident than it had in years, “and how you used to make me laugh.”

“Haley…”

She thinks back to the Aaron she met in high school - tall and lanky and smiling despite already feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. She hadn’t seen him smile in so long. Aaron always believed himself to be a protector, and Haley knows that he already blames himself for Sean and Gideon and Spencer. God only knows how far he’ll spiral after this.

“He needs to know that you weren’t always so serious, Aaron.” She takes a grounding breath and says the next part to him directly, hoping that he’ll understand what’s unspoken. “I want him to believe in love. Because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me.”

There’s a long pause that makes Haley’s stomach drop. A million things still need to be said, but she can’t bring herself to say them. She can’t even think, not when she hears the click of The Reaper’s gun cocking. She can’t be brave any longer.

The air in the room seems to get thinner, and Haley gasps desperately to try and get a breath while tears stream freely down her face. She’s going to die alone and Aaron and her son are going to hear it and oh God, Jack is going to be in the house with Foyet and nobody to protect him. Her one job as a mother is to protect her child and she’s going to die a failure.

They both know what’s going to happen next, but in his own bit of stubbornness, Aaron doesn’t say goodbye. It’s not what she wants to hear, anyway. He decides to give her comfort, a promise that he’ll see through her final wishes, although it’s not the first promise he’s made and broken. Haley wishes she could go out believing him.

BANG

Haley cries out in pain, falling to her knees as white hot pain spreads like a fire through her abdomen. The phone drops out of her hands, but that doesn’t stop her from calling out for Aaron.

“Aaron… Aaron, help me… Please,” she begs through tears. She wants to hear his voice again, to tell her that it’s going to be okay and that he’s about to burst through the front doors and save her. She wants to hear him say goodbye and that he loves her.

All she gets is silence from Aaron’s end. The only proof she gets that he’s still on the line is the rumble of the SUV he’s in. Black spots dance in the corners of her vision, so she can only barely make out the Reaper towering above her and the barrel of the gun being pointed towards her face.

Haley calls out for Aaron again, unable to say anything but his name through her sobs. It’s useless to beg for her life, she knows that, yet she still tries. Tries to reach out to him and tell him how sorry she is. Sorry for not being stronger and for not protecting Jack.

The Reaper raises his gun, and Haley immediately wishes that she had said more to Aaron. She wants him to know that she never stopped loving him and that she doesn’t blame him one bit and that if she had the chance to go back, even knowing how it all was going to end, she absolutely would because Aaron is all—

BANG

#haley hotchner #aaron hotchner #hotchley #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my writing #abas

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flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 4 years ago

Text

Irresistible Danger - Part 54

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,305

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Allies and Foes

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the cooled sheets and pillow telling you that Negan had been gone for a while. A quick glance at the clock showed it was almost 9am, and you lazily stretched underneath the red satin, enjoying the ability to sleep in.

You vaguely remembered Negan waking you up with a kiss to the neck earlier, when it was still mostly dark in the room. He had murmured something about a meeting with his Saviors, and you had responded by turning over and grumbling for him to let you go back to sleep. The last thing you remembered was his low chuckle, and then you were out again.

Reluctantly rolling out of the ridiculously luxuriant bed (seriously, where did he find such a soft mattress during the apocalypse?!), you started getting dressed. Unfortunately, you only had the outfit from yesterday, which wasn’t the cleanest after being out in the woods, but it would have to do until you returned to your own room.

The intrusive thought hit that maybe you could leave a few items of clothing here, so that you had more morning-after options for next time. You quickly dashed the thought, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. Sure, you had now spent the past three nights in a row with Negan, and two of those nights had been in his bed, but that didn’t seem like long enough to start moving in items. Just the thought of Negan doing something so domestic as allowing you to start taking over his armoire and bathroom drawers made you chuckle at the ridiculousness of it.

Though, doing so would mean more events like last night could easily occur, since you wouldn’t have to keep running back to your room for more clothes or other belongings. Your mind flashed to the shower, and what the two of you had done in it the previous evening. How you had gone to your knees and proceeded to blow both his cock and his mind. He had been particularly vocal, his sharp grunts and loud moans echoing off the tiles as he ran shaky fingers through your hair and made you feel like the most seductive woman on the planet.

Still smiling at the memory, you finished zipping up the boots, grabbed Ricardo, and headed out of the bedroom and across his office to the door. Creaking it open a few inches, you peeked down the hall. Seeing that it was clear, you quietly exited the room, shut the door behind you, and speed-walked down the halls and to the stairwell needed to get back to your room. Letting out a little puff of relief when you made it to your own floor, you slowed down the pace a bit, no longer needing to scurry like a roach caught in the kitchen when the lights turned on. Honestly, the fact that you had yet to run into a Savior or wife while making the morning-after trek to and from Negan’s room was really damn lucky and-

“Hey!”

The sound of a voice just as your hand was reaching out for the door knob to your room caused you to jump about a foot in the air. Whirling around, you saw none other than Maria at the opposite end of the hall, waving her hand in greeting as she came towards you.

Crap. Couldn’t the universe have at least let you put on clean underwear first?

Much as you didn’t want to interact with someone at the moment, you couldn’t help but recall the last time Maria had tried to speak with you, in this very hall. It had been after Negan confronted you about the pregnancy test, and you had completely ignored her and rushed past without a word. At the time you had been too emotional to care, but now you knew that she was owed an apology, not to mention the fact that you hadn’t really chatted or hung out with her since the night out at the picnic table. Doing the mental math, you realized that late night conversation had to have been a little over two weeks ago. Yea, you had been a shit friend to Maria lately, and it was totally deserved karma to have her pop up when you weren’t really prepared for social interaction. Well, you would just have to get over it. She didn’t deserve to keep being pushed aside, and you wouldn’t do so to her again.

Pasting on a grin, you opened the door and gestured for her to come inside. She preceded you into the room and settled on the rickety little bed. You tried to nonchalantly lean Ricardo against the wall, in hopes she wouldn’t ask why you were walking around with a weapon so early in the morning. Thankfully, she seemed too busy scanning the meager surroundings to notice. It had been a while since she was in your space, and you tried to take in the tiny room from her perspective, wondering if she found it lacking. You weren’t sure what the wives’ rooms looked like, since apparently Negan wasn’t keen on them having visitors up there, but if it was anything like the fancy clothes they wore then it was sure to be much nicer than your own room.

Just thinking about them made a lump of discomfort form in your stomach. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten about the fact that the man you were developing feelings for had a harem of women he called his wives, but it had been a lot easier to push them to the back of your mind when one wasn’t sitting in front of you.

Not wanting to waste time with small talk, especially when you both were smart enough to know it was a shallow distraction, you dove right in.

“I want to apologize for the other day, when I ignored you. That was shitty of me, and I’m sorry.”

She gave a tiny smile, and you immediately knew that she wasn’t mad. Of course she wasn’t. This was Maria, and she was one of the most forgiving and patient people you had known since the apocalypse began. The fact that she was still willing to even deal with your fickle ass, especially after your last couple of interactions, was proof enough of that.

“It’s alright,” she replied. “You looked pretty frazzled anyways. Everything okay?”

“I don’t know about everything, but things are alright,” you mumbled, almost hoping she wouldn’t hear the words.

You started picking at a stray thread on the grey cotton sheets, unable to help but compare them to the luxury of Negan’s satiny red ones. Ugh, why didn’t you just stay in his bed all morning, instead. You could’ve enjoyed physical comfort and social isolation there.

Able to feel the weight of Maria’s gaze, you lifted your head to look at her. As expected, she was watching you closely, the slightest ghost of a smile tipping one corner of her mouth. “What?” you asked, not rudely, but perhaps a bit impatiently. She looked like she knew a secret that you didn’t, and you wanted her to just spit it out already.

“You spent the night with him,” she stated in a gentle tone, and when you jerked in surprise and opened your mouth to say....well, you had no clue what you were going to say, but thankfully she cut you off. “Which means,” she continued with a raised palm, a silent gesture for you to not get defensive just yet, “that considering how negatively you viewed his multiple wives situation, you must also know he stopped sleeping with them.”

Mouth still hanging open, you stared her down for a few seconds before snapping it shut. Making a “go on” gesture with your hand, you waited for her to continue with wherever it was she wanted this conversation to lead.

She then told you how she had suspected for a while now that the reason why Negan stopped coming to see the wives was due to his interactions with you. Her theory had been confirmed after your late night chat out at the picnic table when you admitted to being in his bedroom, somewhere none of the wives had been allowed to enter.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, clutching the bedsheet so tightly your fingers were about to go numb.

“Honestly? Because you weren’t ready to hear the truth, and I knew you’d have completely shut down at the very thought of it. You still wanted to see him as a monster, so I figured I’d just wait and see how things played out. See if he’d keep allowing you to get close to him, or if one of you would get spooked and run, so to speak.”

You mulled this over. Was she right? If she had told you a couple weeks ago that he had suddenly stopped sleeping with all of the wives, would you have believed it? Doubtful. And even if you had, never in a million years would you have listened to her theory that his drastic change in behavior was because of the few interactions he’d had with you up until that point.

Much as you hated to admit, Maria had been right to keep quiet about it. Though you did wonder how she thought you had found out. Did she assume Negan had told you? Or maybe she was aware of how Amber had been using Trixie, and had come to the correct conclusion on her own. Maria was intelligent, so there was a good chance she knew more about the goings on around here than people gave her credit for. You wanted to ask how much she knew, but also didn’t want to risk outing Trixie, since she had told you that information in strict confidence.

Instead, you asked, “So now that you think I am ready to hear the truth, is there anything else I should know? Are the others coming up with a plan of how to quietly dispose of me, so that Negan will pay attention to them again?”

You said it jokingly, but were honestly curious to know how they felt about these recent changes. Amber obviously wasn’t your biggest fan, but what about the others? Did they see you as a threat to the luxuries they enjoyed here? Honestly, if the roles were switched, and they were the ones threatening whatever you had going on with Negan, you’d be tempted to sharpen mini-Ricardo shanks and take them out one by one. Your subconscious whole-heartedly agreed, giving a battle cry and stabbing at the air, as if taking out imaginary opponents, while your brain sighed and rolled its eyes.

“Well actually, we did recently have a group conversation about you.”

She said this calmly, but it still made your eyes go wide as you exclaimed, “You what?”

“It was a few days ago. Amber had been throwing a real tantrum after she tried to take Negan a dinner tray, and found him already in his office eating with you.”

Oh yea, you remembered that event, vividly. It had been about a week ago, before his last supply run. It was the evening he had confessed to you about his dead wife, and then Amber interrupted by knocking on the door with a tray. It had been apparent she wasn’t happy to see you there, nor to be sent away by Negan, so you weren’t surprised to hear she hadn’t handled it well afterwards.

Nodding for her to go on, Maria continued. “We let her vent about it for a couple days, since I think we were all hoping she’d eventually let it go the way she does most things that get under her skin. But she was like a dog with a bone this time, and kept running her mouth to all of us about how you were stealing Negan from us, and that if we continued to just sit back and let this happen, we were putting our status here in jeopardy.”

Sweat broke out on the back of your neck at the possibilities of where this story could be going. Just the thought of the wives sitting around talking about you as a potential threat or enemy made your stomach flop, but you stayed quiet and let Maria finish.

“She was really trying to get the rest of us riled up, and then one evening she started telling us all that we better be prepared to start scrubbing toilets for points, since we were willing to just let him toss us to the curb. That was when Sherry finally stepped in and put her foot down.”

“Wait, Sherry?!” you blurted, absolutely shook at this turn of events.

Maria nodded. “Yep. She told Amber that all she was doing was starting unnecessary drama, and that Negan had never given any indication that we would lose our privileges or have to start working for points just because he isn’t fucking us every night. Amber tried to argue at first, but Sherry held her ground. Told her that she’d gladly go get Negan, so Amber could tell him her concerns face-to-face, rather than continuing to make assumptions behind his back. That shut her up real quick, and she stormed into her bedroom and stayed there the rest of the night. I haven’t heard her say anything else about it since. She’s still sulking around a bit, but at least she’s been quiet.”

Your brain was struggling to take all this in, especially the part where Sherry had not only stood up for you, but done so against another wife. Crap, now you really felt like an asshole for being jealous and internally snarky towards her that day in the kitchen, when she took you to the medic after you cut your finger.

“Do you actually think she’ll let it go now?” You had a feeling that you already knew the answer, but couldn’t help asking.

Maria sighed. “I can’t say for sure, but Amber doesn’t seem like the kind of person who is okay with not being doted on. I don’t think she has any particularly strong feelings towards Negan, but she enjoys the status of being a wife. It can be a bit of a power trip, to catch the attention of a man like him, even if for shallow reasons.”

“Yea, don’t I know it,” you mumbled under your breath.

Maria raised an eyebrow, having obviously heard. “I don’t think I’d classify his attention towards you as shallow.”

Giving a huffed laugh and shrug, you tried to play it off. “Yea, well, is anything about Negan easy enough to classify?”

“Probably not,” she said with a shrug. “But that’s part of what makes him so intriguing, right?”

“If by intriguing you mean confounding as hell, then sure.”

Despite your annoyed tone, you were genuinely smiling at this point. Part of you wondered if this should feel more weird than it did, talking to a woman who was Negan’s “wife”, and had most likely slept with him, about whatever it was he had going on with you.

As if reading your thoughts, Maria’s face became more serious. “I hope this doesn’t make you feel like you can’t still talk to me, or see me as a friend.”

If you were being totally honest with yourself, the whole situation didn’t make you feel 100% comfortable, but you were pretty sure that was because of the possessive part of you that wanted him all to yourself. But was that a realistic emotion to even have, with a man like him? Could you be okay with him continuing to publicly have “wives”, even if he wasn’t sleeping with them? And what if he later decided to go back to them? It’s not as if he knew that you were aware he wasn’t sleeping with them at the moment.

Mentally shoving those questions into the padlocked box with the other unanswered questions, you honestly replied, “I’m not totally sure how I feel about all of this yet, but I definitely still see you as a friend, so no worries on that front.”

“I’m glad,” Maria said with a nod. “And in case I didn’t make it obvious, no part of me will be upset if Negan decides he doesn’t want to give us the same privileges anymore. Well, so long as you promise to give me a spot in the kitchen, so I’m not stuck scrubbing toilets beside Amber.”

“Deal,” you said with a laugh, glad that the air had been cleared between the two of you, and that she wasn’t harboring ill feelings towards you for taking Negan’s attention away from her and the other wives. Part of you even wondered if she had spent much alone time with him, since she hadn’t been his wife for very long when he stopped sleeping with them, but some things were just better left unknown. Besides, it’s not like he slept cuddled against any of them all night afterwards, or let them in his bed...or his shower.

Your subconscious was feeling awfully smug at that thought, nose in the air as it strutted around with a superiority complex. Meanwhile, your brain was pointing at the padlocked box of questions in annoyance, a motion which the subconscious purposely ignored.

You chatted with Maria for a bit longer, the conversation much lighter and more frivolous than before. It felt good to just hang out and discuss random topics, the way you had when the two of you were surviving for weeks out in the woods together. You might’ve each taken very different paths when it came to Sanctuary life, but it was a relief to know that the connection you had formed prior to coming here surpassed those differences. You also appreciated that she didn’t push for more information about you and Negan, and didn't even mention his name again.

When she left a little while later, a glance at your watch showed that dinner prep was in about two hours. Grateful for the chunk of alone time, you finally changed into fresh clothes and propped yourself up in bed with the copy of Harry Potter. You smiled when removing the little piece of paper you had torn from your notebook as a bookmark. While this one was blank, there was a second little piece of paper that was bookmarking a place closer to the beginning of the book. This piece of paper you had marked in pencil with the letter N, and it held the spot where Negan had stopped reading yesterday morning. You had stuck it in there after he left your room, the book having been face down on your side table where he placed it when you woke up and distracted him. Hoping that he’d return to reading it, especially if you kept his place, you couldn’t help but mark his spot.

Just the thought of his possible reactions to some of the plot twists had you smiling, at the same time as a devious thought crept into your head. If you made sure to get him hooked on the first book, he’d definitely have to find copies of the other ones in the series to share with you, right? There’s no way someone can read the first book and not need to also read the rest.

Both subconscious and brain nodded in agreement at this theory before cuddling up on either side of you, so that they could also see the opened book. Diving back into the story with a contented sigh, you immersed yourself in the magical world, not planning a return to reality and all the awaiting unanswered questions until it was time to head downstairs for dinner prep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #negan fanfics #negan fanfiction #negan x reader #negan x you #twd #the walking dead #ash writes #irresistible danger #the walking dead negan #twd negan #slow burn #fanfiction #fanfic #negan's thirst squad

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combat-wombatus · 4 years ago

Text

Truth or Dare

Pairing: Sero Hanta x reader

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of crack

Warnings: swearing (bakugou), but other than that, none! (unless u have traumatic memories of truth or dare)

WC: 3.1k

Summary: Mina and Denki work together to make sure that you know exactly who Sero's crush is.

(A/N): so @klvbxlove requested some headcanons about sero’s fem!crush having an obsession with kpop/anime and sero doing cute stuff for her and i tried sticking with the prompt in the beginning but then i led myself off-topic (oops) so it turned into this! sorry it’s not what u requested, i can write something else for u if u want! i was just struck by sudden ✨inspiration✨ for this fic so...here u go...

“EEEK!” You squealed, bouncing over to your friends. “LOOKLOOKLOOK-”

“(Y/L/N),” Bakugou grumbled. “Calm the fuck down, no one can understand you.”

You took a deep breath, then handed your phone over to Mina.

As soon as Mina saw the screen, she started squealing just like you were.

“(Y/N)!!!! OMGOMGOMGOMG-” she grabbed your arms and started jumping up and down like an overexcited toddler.

Bakugou rolled his eyes, gave an exasperated huff, then stomped away. “Can’t deal with you idiots when you’re like this.”

Mina dragged you by your arm over to a bench on the side of the cafeteria and the two of you spent your lunch break slurping udon and watching your favorite K-pop group’s newest music video on repeat.

Sero was chatting idly with his friends, mouth full of sushi. Unbeknownst to you, he had been watching you from the corner of his eye, sneaking glances every couple of minutes. Dense as Kaminari may be academically, he had noticed Sero’s preoccupation with you throughout the meal.

“Hey bro,” He poked Sero’s elbow with the clean end of his chopstick. “Whaddya keep looking at (Y/L/N)-chan for?” He squinted at Sero. He glanced briefly at you, and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, turned his eyes back on Sero. “Do you have a crush on her or something?”

Sero choked on his piece of salmon and spluttered, face beet red. “N-no! It’s not l-like that!”

Bakugou snorted. “You dumbass. The hell you mean ‘it’s not like that’? Any idiot with eyes and half a brain can see that you’re obsessed with her.”

As Sero tried to deny his feelings for you, Mina slowly shifted her attention from your phone to hers, which was dinging incessantly.

Kaminari

hey bro bro broski my man my lady? minaaaaa

Mina

asdkjfhluhal i told u to stop calling me that and what

Kaminari

so u know abt seros crush right

Mina

u have the AUDACITY to ask me, the queen of gossip, whether or not I know abt seros crush? the sheer AUDACITY is STAGGERING-

Kaminari

ok ok stop bullying me anyways wanna get them tog?

Mina

D U H would be easier if y/n wasn’t so dense and sero wasn’t so chicken

Kaminari

since ur in do u have a plan

Mina grinned. Of course she did. What kind of person did Kaminari think she was?

Mina

take sero to the boba place after school meet u there

Pocketing her phone, she turned back to face you. She had to resist the urge to cackle. This was gonna be fun.

Later that day, you and Mina walked to the dorms together.

“Whaddya say we go out today?” Mina asked excitedly, eyes gleaming. You found it a bit suspicious, since yesterday she had told you that she was failing math and was going to study with Yaomomo today.

“Didn’t you say you were going to study with Yaomomo?”

“Shit.” Mina face palmed. “I did, didn’t I? But I don’t waannnnaaa,” she whined. “Let’s just go out and get some boba and we’ll come back,” she promised, giving you the puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, okay.” You relented. “But if you fail math again, don’t blame it on me.”

She clasped a hand to her chest dramatically. “I would NEVER.”

Giggling, the two of you made your way to Coco’s Café, a cozy little place that served everything from coffee to cookies. It was also a developing cat café, mostly due to the popularity of the kitty that the place was named for, Coco.

Sidling up to the counter, you ordered a matcha boba tea while Mina ordered a strawberry milk tea with lychee jelly and boba.

“Is that it for you ladies today?” The man behind the counter asked cheerfully.

“Yes please!” Mina replied. The two of you sat in a corner booth, sipping your drinks and gossiping.

“Hey (Y/N),” Mina started. “So you know about Sero’s crush, right?”

You halted mid-sip. What? Sero had a crush?

Laughing at your startled expression, Mina leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “So,” she whispered. “Who do you think it is?”

You sat there, drink forgotten, racking your brain for possibilities. Jirou and Hagakure hung out with Sero sometimes, exchanging memes and goofing around, but they weren’t really around that often. Usually, Sero only hung out with Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Mina, and you. Mina, possibly? Was Sero gay? Did he have a thing for, say, Kaminari or Kirishima? You didn’t think that Sero would be the type to like Bakugou, but hey, he put up with Bakugou’s temper all the time, so maybe? Ugh. You resisted the urge to groan and drop your head into your hands. This was so complicated.

Mina sat back, this reaction obviously not being what she had hoped for. “Well?” She crossed her arms. “Do you have a guess yet?”

You thought about it, then decided to pick an answer randomly. “You?” You tried.

Mina snorted and almost spit out her drink. You were absolutely unbelievable. Of all the people you could’ve chosen, you picked HER? “No, (Y/N). It’s not me,” she managed to choke out in between fits of laughter.

You sprawled out on the table, no longer concealing your frustration. “Who is it then?” You whined. “Jirou? Hagakure? Is Sero gay?”

Mina actually did spit out her drink this time.

As she cleaned up her mess, Mina silently judged you with her signature side-eye. She really is that dense, huh. Guess I’ll have to knock some sense into her.

Furiously brainstorming, you tried to think of any more possibilities. As you sat in silence, something warm and fuzzy crawled sneakily onto your lap, and stayed there.

Knocked from your daze, you glanced down and the unfamiliar presence, only to realize that it was a kitty. THE kitty. Coco, the café’s namesake.

“Aww,” you cooed, lightly scratching behind her ears. She purred happily in response to your ministrations and curled into herself, tail tucked neatly around her haunches.

Just then, the doorbell jingled and the rest of your close friends walked in.

“Hey!” Kaminari chirped, giving you and Mina a lighthearted wave.

“Hey!” You replied, unaware of the glare Mina was currently giving Kaminari. As soon as they went up to order, Mina stood up and announced that she was going to the bathroom. You took out your phone and scrolled through your social media feeds, taking advantage of this time to research.

“Psst!” Mina pinched Kaminari’s elbow lightly.

“Ow! What?” Kaminari turned to face her.

Mina gave Kaminari her scariest glare. “I told you to bring Sero, not the whole squad!”

Kaminari whimpered. “But Kirishima heard and wanted to tag along too! And it would’ve been suspicious if I said no! And then Bakubro heard that Kiri was coming and decided to come too-”

Mina sighed. “You could’ve texted Sero in private!”

Scratching the back of his head, Kaminari gave Mina a sheepish smile. “Sorry Mina, I hadn’t thought of that”.

Mina stole a quick glance back at your table, and seeing that you were otherwise occupied, she turned her attention back to Kaminari.

“So, Stage 1 of the plan didn’t work. She didn’t even seem to consider herself as a possibility! However, no fear! It is time that we put Stage 2 into action!” Mina whisper-shouted. “It’ll be more complicated with Kiri and Bakugou present, but we always have a Plan B!” She quickly related her backup plan to Kaminari, who promised to tell the boys (minus Sero) to make it run more smoothly.

After giving Kaminari a quick fist bump, Mina slinked back into her seat. “So, (Y/N),” she paused, chin resting on her hand. “Since the boys are here, why don’t we ask Sero himself?”

You looked up from your phone. You hadn’t really found any clues as to who Sero’s crush could be. Most, if not all, of his posts were with your group of friends. You thought about it for a moment.

“Wouldn’t it be awkward if he didn’t want us to know?” You asked Mina.

“Oh, but we’re nosy friends! It’s our JOB to know and then tease him about it!” Mina giggled. “And besides,” she added. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?”

You hesitated. She did have a point. You were curious, but at the same time, a little voice in the back of your brain nagged at you. Did you really want to know? Did you really want to see him crushing on someone else, and then tease him about it? That wouldn’t really be funny, for you, at least. But if you disagreed with Mina, it would be suspicious, and besides, you WERE curious. Even if the answer wasn’t the one you wanted, you would still rather it be out in the open than bottled inside. You’d rather know for certain than lose sleep over it at night.

Sighing, you relented. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

Mina rested both of her elbows on the table and smiled at you, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Truth or dare.”

As the boys returned, each holding their own drinks, Mina was bouncing in her seat. Bakugou and Kirishima each pulled up a chair, and Sero took the chance to sit next to you. At that, Mina smirked devilishly.

“So,” she grinned, fingertips dancing on the table. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He couldn’t believe he’d been roped into this, but Kirishima and Kaminari wouldn’t let him ruin it. Kirishima dropped a fist on the table. “Yeah!” He turned towards Mina. “Who’s starting?”

Mina pretended to think about it, when in reality, she had already made plans.

“How about (Y/N)?”

“Me?” You raised an eyebrow. You thought that Mina would be the one to interrogate Sero.

“Yes you, dummy,” Mina teased. “Is there another (Y/N) sitting here?”

You rolled your eyes. “Who are you calling dummy?”

Mina grumbled. “Just get on with it, would you? Who are you going to ask?”

“Hmm. How about Sero?” You turned to face him. “Truth or dare?”

Sero was panicking. You weren’t the type to give out ridiculous dares, and he definitely needed to be cautious about truth. “Dare.” He said confidently.

You chuckled. Mina had prepared you for this possibility.

“I dare you to kiss your crush within the next 24 hours,” you said, “and the whole squad had to be there to see it.”

Mina and Kaminari let out simultaneous “oohs”. Bakugou pointed out the obvious. “Why the next 24 hours?”

“Because we don’t know who his crush is and they’re probably not here right now,” you answered. “And the whole squad will have to see it to make sure that he does it and doesn’t chicken out. You’ll have to ask their permission first, though,” you added. “Consent is key. Even if they turn you down, as long as you tried, we’ll count the dare as completed.”

Your friends nodded in agreement. Mina clapped her hands gleefully. “You should’ve known, Sero! You can’t hide things from us!”

Sero was *this* close to having a panic attack. He had to consciously remind himself to keep breathing. This is going to be so embarrassing how am I going to do this without making an utter and complete fool of myself gosh you really should’ve not stared at her at lunch today Sero or this wouldn’t have happened jeez are you really that dumb now the whole squad will know and you won’t be able to look her in the eye anymore adfkhiavelrsnjaerliaevr BREATHE SERO BREATHE-

The game continued. Mina dared Bakugou to smile for 5 consecutive minutes, at which Bakugou nearly flew out of his seat, palms crackling.

“You fucking extra how dare you-” He didn’t get to finish, as Mina quickly took out her phone and opened the timer app.

“And the countdown starts now!” She cackled. “That is, unless you forfeit-”

“I’M NOT GONNA LOSE TO YOU, YOU DUMB FUCKING EXTRA!!!” With that, Bakugou angrily took his seat again, disregarding all the angry scowls he received from the rest of the café’s patrons, and pulled his lips up into what could only be described as the devil’s grin. He sat like that for a full five minutes, glaring lasers into Mina, not moving a muscle. You think Mina was mentally scarred after that, because she never looked at Bakugou for the rest of the game.

Kirishima dared Kaminari to record a video of him singing the pi song and send it to Jirou. The poor boy had so many voice cracks while singing it that Kirishima went easy on him and told him to just send the first 15 seconds.

Bakugou dared you to let everyone look through your phone for one minute. You were reluctant, but seeing as you were relatively normal with only minimal embarrassing photos, no confession texts, and a fairly clean search history, you let them do it. The most embarrassing thing they found was your playlist.

“How the fuck is your playlist 74 hours and 42 minutes? What the fuck do you have on here?” Bakugou held out your phone for the rest of your friends to see.

“And why is your history full of that shitty Korean music?”

You gasped. He did not.

“Hey!” You snatched your phone back. “If you’re going to insult my music, you don’t get to continue!”

“Tch.” Bakugou sneered. “You call that shit music?”

You were thoroughly offended by this point and refused to even acknowledge his statement. You glared at Bakugou with as much intensity as you could muster. This man had no taste in music whatsoever.

The 1-minute timer dinged, and Bakugou was saved from a scathing talking-to as you all moved onto the next victim.

Mina was dared to order a glass of milk with ice, then put it on a random table (with customers) and leave without an explanation. She ended up choosing an old couple, likely in their sixties, who were cuddling with two cats. They’d each ordered a cup of coffee and shared a plate of cookies. When Mina put the glass of iced milk on their table, and the two women shared a confused look before turning their attention to Mina.

“Thank you?” The lady with horn-rimmed glasses asked rather shakily.

“Yes, thank you very much young lady, but we didn’t order this?” The one who had a tabby on her lap said, perplexed, looking Mina up and down.

Mina made a motion with her hand, zipping her lips, then giggled and sat back down at your table. The two ladies, baffled, took one look at your table and seemed to understand what was going on. They turned back to their coffees and cats and resumed their conversation.

You had all gone one full circle, and everyone had finished their drinks, so you all decided that it was time to go. You rubbed between Coco’s ears one last time and walked out into the afternoon sun.

“Hey Sero!” Kirishima clapped Sero on his back. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten about your dare,” he smiled cheekily. “Better get it over with when we first head back into the dorms, huh? That’ll probably be the easiest time to get it over with.”

Sero groaned. He’d hoped that you would all forget after the game was over, but his luck had run dry. He’d have to face the music sooner or later. He debated on his options. If he waited too long, he’d seem cowardly. He didn’t want to do that. On the other hand, maybe if he waited a full day, you would all forget? He shook his head. No, with Mina here, she’d never let him live it down. And besides, who was he to renege on a dare?

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he rubbed them together nervously. This was it. This was the moment of truth.

“Hey guys! Wait up!” He called out to Kirishima and Bakugou, who had walked ahead of the group. “I’ve got something to show you!”

Bakugou quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?” He smirked. “Whatcha got, Tape Arms?”

Sero cleared his throat. “I-I’m ready. I’m ready to do the dare.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. It was just you and the rest of the squad here. Did you really have a chance? You were scared to get your hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, you would be the one he kissed.

Hands curled into fists at his sides, Sero gulped. He was doing this. He was really doing this. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and strode over to where you and Mina stood.

“(Y/N),” He stared at his feet. “Would you…would you allow me to kiss you?”

You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to calm yourself down. It was you. Sero had a crush on you. Your crush liked you back!

After a while, Bakugou felt the need to step in.

“Oi, dumbass!” He hollered, garnering the attention of curious passerby. “You gonna let Soy Sauce Face over there kiss you or not?”

Your face flushed a furious red. “U-Umm, y-yeah!” You stuttered. “You can kiss me, Sero!” You cringed at how excited you sounded.

Slowly, Sero tilted his face downwards. He lifted your chin tenderly and lowered his lips to yours. His lips were soft against yours, his breath tickling your cheek as he let go. You blushed harder than you ever thought was possible, and he looked down with a pleased smile.

“Thanks, (Y/N).” He said in a soft voice. “Can I take this as a sign that you have feelings for me too?”

Nodding frantically, you whispered a noncommittal “mhm”.

“Can’t hear you, sweets,” Sero teased. “Come on, I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation.”

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat. “Yes.” You whispered in a slightly louder tone. “Yes, I h-have feelings for you too.”

At this admission, your friends all cheered, Mina hooting especially loudly. “Hells yeah!” She high-fived Kaminari. “We did it!”

“Best wingmen ever!” Kaminari shouted.

“That was so manly of you Sero!” Kirishima added, flashing a thumbs-up. “Congrats!”

“Tch. Yeah, whatever. Finally got it in their thick skulls that they liked each other. Big fucking deal,” Bakugou grumbled.

“Hey, hey! Don’t you go and ruin the mood now!” Mina scolded him. “Just look at them! They look so happy!” She pointed towards you and Sero.

“Hmph. Well, those idiots could’ve been happier sooner if Sero had the fucking balls to confess earlier.”

“Oh, shut it already! Just be glad that they’re finally together!”

“Like I care.”

“Stop pretending, you big grouch! We all know you care!”

“Tch.”

Masterlist

254 notes · View notes

agentark88 · 3 years ago

Text

Think: Alternate Future: Shinso: Next Gen

My Hero Academia Fan Fiction by Agent ARK 88

“Think: Alternate Future” side stories do not dictate the outcome of Think. Things that happen in these side stories do not affect the current Think story/chapters. Think of these short stories as a fun collection of possible outcomes that may or may not happen in an alternate universe, while still pertaining to characters in the main fan fiction, Think.

Warnings: This work contains mild language, blood, and violence.

Kyoko Shinso groaned as a breeze sent her umbrella lopsided again. The sun touched her pale skin, and she shifted over the towel to keep from burning. This trip to the beach was supposed to help with quirk training, but it clearly was geared more toward a vacation. Kyoko buried her face deeper into her book, hoping that no more sand would get into her eyes, despite wearing sunglasses.

The other U.A. classmates were loud, especially Raidon Kaminari. But, Kyoko was the most used to him, considering they’d spent a great amount of time hanging out on playdates. Raidon and a few other classmates were playing volleyball, using their quirks to help with coordination. Purple electricity flashed near the court every once in a while, making Kyoko wince. It was difficult to concentrate when the human strobe light was only a few feet from her spot in the sand.

Suddenly, the volleyball landed directly next to Kyoko, showering her with unprompted sand. She hissed in anger. Raidon jogged over, giving her a cocky grin. He ran a hand through his purple hair, complete with a yellow lightning bolt, before he set his hands on his hips.

“Are you going to lie over here and sulk all day?” Raidon asked. He placed a single large hand down onto the volleyball and lifted it effortlessly. His bright yellow eyes scanned over Kyoko.

Kyoko didn’t answer him, trying to find the place she was in her book. Raidon sighed, tossing the ball back to the other players on the court.

“Play the next set without me!” he shouted over, bending down to Kyoko.

“If I wanted your company, I would have asked for it,” Kyoko stated dryly, turning another page in her book.

“You wouldn’t ask for my company if I was the last person on earth,” Raidon said, chuckling.

“Then, why have you decided to intrude in my personal space?”

“Because I understand why you’re over here, and I think it’s bullshit that they didn’t at least try to take us somewhere that would assist in developing all of our quirks,” Raidon said.

Kyoko’s hand paused with a page between her fingers. She wanted to tell him those were her thoughts exactly. She was told specifically not to use her quirk on her classmates while out here, but a quirk like thought control needed to be used on people. Normally, during regular training it was allowed. Due to the fact that their teacher wouldn’t be monitoring everyone closely that day, quirks were limited to basic recreational activities and not each other. They could have at least provided her with an indoor gym, so she could work on herself physically. The sun made Kyoko’s skin itch, and she preferred not to be sticky with sunscreen the whole time she was there. She enjoyed swimming, but feared that because of endurance training in the waves, she would get distracted and use her quirk unintentionally.

“Monoma can’t use his quirk like me, and he’s participating in activities. I don’t see why U.A. must accommodate me,” Kyoko argued.

“Habiki? He just wants to prove he can kick our asses at volleyball without his quirk, hence the maniacal laughter. Kid has been brutal,” Raidon said.

Kyoko pressed her lips into a firm line, scanning over the next sentence without being able to actually read it while Kaminari stood over her. “I’m fine, Raidon. You don’t have to check on me.”

“That’s what friends are for. Besides, I’ve used my quirk so much that I can feel my brain buzzing.” Raidon tilted Kyoko’s umbrella so the sun was no longer infiltrating her space. “If I short-circuit, there’s no telling what prank Habiki would play on me.” Raidon sat right on the edge of Kyoko’s blanket, digging his toes into the sand. “Not going to go swimming?” Raidon tilted his head back, and his broad shoulders shifted with the small gesture, muscles rippling under sweaty skin.

Kyoko shrugged, shutting her book. “My quirk could go off unintentionally. You know how relaxed I can be in the water.”

“You could play volleyball,” Raidon offered.

Kyoko turned her head to observe the teams that had been selected for the game. Evidently, those with the preferred quirks for that kind of game had decided to play, excluding Monoma of course. Ken Miyabe, quirk: giant strength, Habiki Monoma, quirk: physical copy, and Amaterasu, quirk: incinerator, were all on the opposing team to Raidon. While, Raidon’s team consisted of Kagome Imai, quirk: teleportation. Now that Raidon had sat out, Miyabe had just switched sides. It figured that most of the offensive fighters were playing volleyball. To be fair, most of the class were offensive fighters in their own way. Even Kyoko had to learn to be more aggressive on the field because there were so many quirks in her class that assisted with physical attacks.

“I’ll pass,” Kyoko said.

“We could go for a swim,” Raidon offered again.

“I told you that I don’t want to accidently use my quirk on anyone.”

“We could go a ways down the beach so no one can hear your voice and be affected. You know if you do it to me by accident, I won’t tell anyone.” Raidon winked at Kyoko, smiling brightly.

“What if you use your quirk on me? I’d be fried.”

“It’s salt water. Unless I go and perform an ultimate move in the open sea, equivalent to a lightning bolt, you should be safe. I’m not planning on controlling the weather while we’re swimming. The water around you should be more electrically conducive than you are.”

Kyoko scowled. “Don’t pretend like you’re not in the lowest grade percentile of our class. I’ll stop helping you study.”

Raidon cracked a smile. “Trust me, I’m not. My knowledge is only specialized in electricity and lightning. Beyond that, your old pal Raidon here has a children’s song looping through his head.”

Kyoko leaned up on her elbows, looking out toward the ocean. Ren Tokoyami was busy developing her dark water quirk. Blackened bits of sea moved deliberately at her fingertips. Her red eyes were trained on the task at hand, and her dark green hair blew in the breeze. Ena Iida wasn’t that far away from her. She was in the middle of re-tying up her dark blue hair to ensure it wouldn’t get in the way of her quirk training. She’d built a mechanical machine using her mechanic quirk that was utilizing the waves to create a power source for a sand digger. The machine took in the waves and spat out white steam. At the same time, Katashi Tetsutetsu, quirk: half-copper and half-steel, had formed his right half into a shovel to dig sand too, most likely trying to surpass the machinery beside him. The last person taking part in the nearby sea activities, that Kyoko could see, was Nanako Midoriya. She appeared to be swimming in a large oval shape. Midoriya concentrated on using controlled float to remove seaweed from the ocean and toss them away, so she could swim in peace.

Kyoko had a bitter taste in her mouth, seeing them all use their quirks so easily and without limitation. It wasn’t as if it were her classmates’ fault that she couldn’t use her quirk, but it felt as if she were being punished.

“Come on. Don’t make that face. We can make the best of a sucky situation.” Raidon stood up, dusting sand off his bright yellow beach shorts. He held out his hand. “You love swimming. You can’t deny that.”

Kyoko removed her sunglasses, rolling her eyes. She grabbed his hand, brushing against his metallic rings, which assisted him in focusing his quirk toward his hands. Raidon pulled her up in an instant. To Kyoko’s surprise, Raidon didn’t let go of her hand as he led them toward the other end of the beach. This far from the others, there was a large spread of tropical vegetation. The same plants were reflected on the opposite side of the short stretch of private beach. At least there weren’t even locals to worry about.

Raidon led Kyoko to the edge of the waves. Just as the water lapped against her foot, Raidon leaned in next to her ear. “I like your bathing suit. It’s cute,” he whispered.

Kyoko could barely hear him over the waves, but it still made her blush. It was a one piece, purple suit, modest. There were some cutesy frills in the front that helped fill out Kyoko’s slender frame.

Raidon’s hand left Kyoko’s. He waded into the water, up to his waist, before he turned back to motion Kyoko to follow. Kyoko hesitated for only a moment. She looked longingly at the water. When was the last time she swam for fun? It had to have been when she was a child.

Kyoko dove into the water, humming in satisfaction as the refreshing liquid flowed over her. She poked her head out from the water, running her fingers through her brown and purple hair. She relaxed just enough to let the waves carry her, but she kept her attention on her quirk, ensuring she wouldn’t speak to Kaminari and force him under her control. Floating over the water like this always felt similar to her quirk activating. She could feel weightless, unrestricted, but at the same time the water was tangible, grounding. A mind spoke similarly to the way that waves flowed in and out. She should take more time to go the beach with her mom and dad. She wouldn’t have to feel nervous about her quirk that way.

Raidon swam, or rather splashed, over to Kyoko, sending flecks of sea water onto her face. When Kyoko opened her eyes, squinting up at him in irritation, Raidon was staring at her thoughtfully.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Kyoko said, not wanting to admit that her friend was right.

Raidon grinned brightly. “Good.” His attention shifted back to where the rest of the class had been, and his smile faded.

“What?” Kyoko asked.

“Looks like our classmates wanted to see what’s so special about this spot.” Raidon shrugged. You could already see the apology in his eyes without reading his thoughts.

“What are you two weirdos doing out here all alone? Better be keeping it appropriate!” Monoma called out.

“They’re two feet apart!” Imai called back, appearing a few inches away from Kyoko in the water.

Kyoko slipped out of the proper position to float, sputtering from surprise after Imai teleported next to her. Raidon gripped Kyoko by the arm, before she could submerge into the sea any farther, holding her above the waves until she got her bearings again.

“What happened to the volleyball game?” Raidon asked her pointedly.

Imai pulled back her oil-like black hair into a bun. “It was no fun once you left. Monoma kept deliberately aiming for faces.”

Raidon’s gaze moved back to the shore. “Can Ken even swim?”

Imai looked back as well. “I’m pretty sure he can’t. I’ll go check on him. If he goes out too far, he’s too big for any of us to help him.” Imai disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke.

“Are you okay?” Raidon asked.

Kyoko submerged half of her face into the ocean, blowing irritated bubbles out.

“I know it’s not ideal, but it will be okay, won’t it? You can keep yourself from using your quirk. If you’re that worried, you can stay quiet,” Raidon said.

Kyoko glared at him. This was exactly what Kyoko didn’t want to do. She would get in trouble if something happened without permission. Her classmates still didn’t understand how unpredictable her quirk could be. They had no sense of how much concentration it took to stay out of their heads.

“I’m going back to my towel.”

“Kyoko, it will be fine for a little while, won’t it?”

“It won’t,” she snapped back. “Why do you think I avoided getting in the water in the first place?” Kyoko glanced back at the shore. At this point, all of her classmates were wading out into the water. She sighed. “Thanks for trying.”

“Kyoko,” Raidon pleaded, but she had made up her mind.

Kyoko ignored her classmates as she passed them. Nanako Midoriya came the closest to stopping her, showing Kyoko the big ball of seaweed she’d collected.

“Do you think we could dry it out and eat it?” Nanako asked Kyoko. Her bobbed green hair had clung to her head due to the water. Her big brown eyes blinked up at her with curiosity.

“How would I know?” Kyoko asked.

Nanako pouted, glancing at the seaweed. “Isn’t your mom really good at cooking?”

“Baking,” Kyoko corrected. “And, I wouldn’t know. I have about as much talent in the kitchen as my dad does.”

“Oh,” Nanako said. She scratched her head in thought. “Maybe Amaterasu can dry it out with her incinerator quirk, and I can try it.”

“That might not be…” Kyoko trailed off. She wanted to tell Nanako that it would probably taste disgusting. There was a process to cooking, and as far as seaweed went, she’d probably want to flavor it. But, she didn’t want to rain on the girl’s parade. She looked so excited just to have come up with the idea, despite being disgusted with the seaweed in her way in the first place.

Nanako skipped away, the ball of putrid seaweed floating close behind her. Kyoko shrugged, making her way back to her umbrella. Kyoko was irritated to find that her towel was no longer where she’d left it. Off in the distance, she caught sight of the familiar classic Eraserhead costume. Kyoko rarely got merchandise of her favorite heroes, but her father bought it for her for her birthday when she noticed it in a local shop. Her towel had somehow blown all the way across the beach and had latched onto a jungle tree.

Kyoko sighed, plodding through the sand toward the towel. She was obviously soaked and all she wanted to do was lie back down. Unluckily, the towel unhooked itself from the tree and went deeper into the brush. Kyoko picked up her pace, so she could catch up with it before it went into the forest too deeply and became irretrievable.

Once Kyoko started moving through the trees, she wished she’d had enough forward thinking to have grabbed her sandals. She’d already stepped on more than one rock.

“Kyoko! Wait up!” Raidon called after her. “Why are you going into the forest?”

“My towel apparently has a mind of its own!” Kyoko called back flatly. She followed the dark fabric with her eyes, but just as she got closer the towel was pulled away by what seemed to be the wind.

Raidon’s athleticism proved to be greater than Kyoko thought it was because even though she was practically sprinting, he’d caught up.

“Man, beach wind is crazy!” Raidon said, chuckling as he too took a swipe at the towel only for it to get pulled away.

Kyoko suddenly froze, furrowing her eyebrows. She could no longer feel the wind brushing against her back now that they were so far into the trees. The towel wasn’t being blown by natural forces.

“Wait, this doesn’t feel right,” Kyoko said.

Raidon paused, his hand outstretched toward the elusive towel. “What do you mean? We’ve almost caught it.”

“There’s no wind,” Kyoko said.

“Clever girl.”

Kyoko’s eyes widened. The towel twisted into the air to expose a blue enflamed feather attached to it, which appeared to be barely brighter than a lighter. Just as Kyoko had comprehended what it was, the feather burned brighter, engulfing the towel in flames. Raidon stumbled back from the fire, nearly getting singed.

A young woman with long white hair and cut-across bangs stepped out of the shadows. The blue flames reflected in her golden eyes. Her dangerous smile was more than enough to strike fear in Kyoko’s chest. But, the bright blue flaming wings extended from her back, sent Kyoko stumbling back. Whoever this was, they weren’t here to enjoy the beach.

Kyoko opened her mouth to activate her quirk, but as soon as her lips parted, a gag was tied around her head. Kyoko went to rip the fabric away, only for her hands to be bound in front of her as well and tied around her waist by some kind of quirk she assumed. Kyoko kept a head count of the attackers, two so far. The most reasonable explanation was that they were villains. Why else would they have attacked so quickly? They must have known Kyoko’s quirk ahead of time too. They wouldn’t have silenced her so quickly otherwise. Kyoko had to get to the rest of the class, warn them that there were attackers. At this distance, with so many thoughts around, it would be difficult to reach them telepathically, as it wasn’t as developed as her thought control quirk.

Purple electricity buzzed off of Raidon’s skin. He turned back toward Kyoko, and his expression changed, worry and anger clouded his yellow eyes when he saw what had happened.

“Let her go!” Raidon shouted.

“Easy there, hero boy,” the woman in front of him warned. “I wouldn’t want to accidently burn either of you with my feathers.” She extended her deep blue wings that burned brightly with cerulean fire.

Kyoko had to make a break for it. They’d just tied her wrists and mouth. Their attention had to be on Raidon. She could still run. If any classmates saw her, they could get help. Kyoko shifted to run, but the wind was immediately knocked out of her as someone landed directly on her back. They pressed Kyoko’s face into the forest floor, making it difficult to breathe. Cold metal clasped around Kyoko’s neck immediately irritating her skin. A low hum sounded, before Kyoko’s mind went quiet. Her quirk was no longer active.

“Naughty little hero,” a voice cooed overhead. “We won’t have to hurt you if you’re compliant.”

Kyoko struggled to gain some leverage, barely able to crane her neck back toward Raidon. Pure rage infiltrated his expression. Raidon opened his mouth, purple static raising his hair on end.

“Unhand—” Raidon was grabbed from behind, and his mouth was covered by the winged villain, cutting him off.

“Do you mind tying this one up, Sako?” the winged woman hissed. She was clearly being shocked at least a little bit by Raidon’s static output because she kept making a face and jostling him forward. Four flaming feathers flew from her back, coming dangerously close to Kyoko on the ground. “Try anything serious, kid, and I’ll be sure to burn your friend over there for good measure.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Hibari. I wasn’t expecting more than one brat to show up. My magic rope quirk can only focus on so many materials before it becomes ineffective. Is he that hard to hold on to?” This was yet another female voice. The new villain hovered over Kyoko, focusing her quirk energy on her binds and forcing her still. She swiped some loose strands of brown curly hair out of her face to reveal her hazel eyes. “What are we going to do? There are two of them, and we only needed her. We don’t have another inhibitor for whatever weird quirk that one has,” Sako added.

“Isn’t this exactly how your old man messed up, Shigaraki?” Hibari asked.

Raidon’s eyes widened. He must have recognized the name, just like Kyoko did. They had been a part of The League of Villains back in the day. The weight on Kyoko left, leaving the burning feathers as a reminder not for her to move.

“Shut it, Hibari! I told you to never call me that!” Shigaraki itched at her neck. To Kyoko’s horror, she had a porcelain doll mask covering her face. “We’ll take them both. It will give us more time to prepare if their kidnapping wasn’t discovered immediately.”

Hibari smirked at her. “Oh, yeah, Shinju? That’s really what you want to do, fearless leader? Here lies The Antihero Syndicate bound to repeat history for eternity. Actually, it has quite the nice ring to it. What could we possibly learn from our dear old dad’s anyway?”

“You’re so damn dramatic. Which father does that character trait come from again?” Shinju shot back.

Hibari’s smirk faded. “I don’t think we want to get into a villain measuring contest right now.”

Raidon’s eyes locked onto yours. His hands were on Hibari’s arm, which meant his electric conductive rings were touching her as well. He was afraid. Kyoko could see it in his expression. He knew if he used his quirk on full blast it would directly hurt her. Not only that, she was being threatened to be burned.

Kyoko nodded toward him frantically. She would have told him telepathically to do it, had her quirk not been subdued. No matter what output he made, she wasn’t directly next to him. It would distract Hibari long enough for Kyoko to get up. She’d dealt with his electricity before. She could fight through the pain.

Static electricity pulsed through the air. Raidon shut his eyes in concentration. Purple volts of energy sputtered to life. At first it didn’t seem like much, but then a bolt of purple lightning was pulled from the sky, hitting Hibari square on the back, at the base of her wings. Kyoko rolled toward the forest exit, but the shockwave hit her next, stunning her and forcing a painful muffled cry from her throat.

Hibari let out a horrid laugh, before she gripped Raidon by the back of the head and slammed his face into the dirt. “You little brat. I told you not to try something.” Her golden eyes went aflame with hatred. “I get heat damage in that exact spot with my quirk. The only thing you did was piss me off.” Her attention floated over to Kyoko. The electricity kept her stunned to the spot. “And, as I promised, I get to burn her.”

Kyoko whimpered as the feathers made contact with her exposed skin. Tears welled in her eyes. Raidon struggled furiously against the hand to his head. He took in a mouthful of dirt, as he begged for her to stop.

“Please. Don’t hurt her! Stop!” his voice came out garbled, barely audible.

“Dammit, Hibari! He could have alerted his classmates with that blast. Kando, teleportal us out of here, now!” Shinju shouted.

“I thought you’d never ask.” A boy with black spiky hair spread his palms over the forest floor. Dark green, mist-like portals expanded underneath the group.

Everyone fell through the floor. Kyoko floated just a few inches from the floor. The rope around her kept her afloat because she felt the harsh tug against her skin. Raidon had not been so lucky as Hibari took the opportunity to use him as a cushion for landing.

“Dammit!” Shinju shouted in frustration. She gripped a chair with her bare hands, and its very material altered into a glossy white. Shinju flung it at a nearby wall, and it shattered. “Do any of you understand how important that this is to the plan?”

“We all know how important this is. It’s not Hibari’s fault that the extra kid showed up,” Sako argued.

“Don’t bother defending me, Sako. Shinju’s just throwing a temper tantrum because things didn’t go exactly as she wanted them to.” Hibari picked Raidon up by the back of the shirt.

Small zaps of purple static electricity prickled over his skin, but he didn’t appear conscious. He must have hit his head too hard on the way down. Hibari tossed Raidon toward Kyoko, and his muscular body made a sickening noise hitting the ground.

“Tie them together. The kid won’t be able to use his quirk while attached to her. You can remove her gag too. Her quirk is useless with that thing around her neck.” Hibari walked up to Kyoko, tilting her head up toward her. While being suspended in the air, it was nearly impossible for Kyoko to fight her. “Scream all you want. No one’s going to hear you down here.” Hibari pulled her hand away, shoving it into her black-pant pocket. She tossed Shinju a smirk. “It’s your turn, Shinju. Unless, you want me to do all of the work.”

Shinju itched at her neck, her fingers digging into her tanned skin below her powder-white mask. Hibari marched up the stairs, and the two of them didn’t exchange anymore words.

Kyoko was lowered to the ground. The rope-gag tied around her mouth was removed. Kando assisted Raidon into a chair. He’d slumped forward. Kyoko was lifted by Sako and placed behind him.

“Shinju’s not in the best mood. I suggest you don’t struggle when I switch your bindings,” Sako whispered to Kyoko.

Kyoko’s wrists were freed and newly bound by hand. Just as advised, Raidon and Kyoko were now tied to each other, so when he woke up, he wouldn’t be able to use his quirk to free them.

“Why are you doing this?” Kyoko asked.

Shinju tilted her head to the side. “You. All of you. You heroes are why.” Shinju scratched at her flaky skin. “Heroes are formed, molded in these schools as if they are the real saviors of the world, while those of us that are born with curses are looked upon as scum. It continues to happen again and again. The cycle finally needs to be broken, and you’re going to help us break it, in this body or in another.” She turned to her colleagues. “They can’t go anywhere. We’ll watch the door from upstairs, until we can transport Shinso to the medical facility undetected.”

The three villains left, more than positive Kyoko and Raidon wouldn’t be able to escape. They weren’t wrong. What Kyoko could do was inhibited, while Raidon was out cold. When he awoke, he wouldn’t be able to use his quirk without doing serious harm to Kyoko.

“What would Mom do?” Kyoko murmured to herself. Tears formed in her eyes again. Both her mother and father had warned her of the dangers of becoming a hero. As a family, they’ve already had a number of close calls with kidnappings. Kyoko had seen the footage of her mother’s kidnapping too. If it hadn’t been for her father, Hitoshi Shinso, catching her, Kyoko’s mother would have never survived the ordeal.

Mom would do what she had to to escape, so they couldn’t use her as a hostage, Kyoko thought. But, what can I do?

There was nothing but silence filling the space, silence in Kyoko’s mind. It was eerie not hearing the thoughts of others or constantly holding back the tug of her quirk. Not to mention, she was freezing. The villains hadn’t bothered to give them a blanket or anything to wear. They were still only in their bathing suits after all. A few minutes went by, an hour, maybe more. The silence became overwhelming, and then a spark of sound.

“Damn, my head is killing me.” Raidon shifted, groaning.

“Raidon? Are you awake?” Kyoko asked.

“W-where are we? Kyoko, what happened?” Raidon shook his head. “Wait! There were villains. They totally attacked us and then…” Raidon trailed off. “You got hurt! Are you okay? Did she burn you badly? D-did I zap you too bad? I was so worried that I seriously injured you. I would never forgive myself if—”

“Raidon, calm down. I’m okay. We need to think about how to get out of here.”

“Right! Right,” Raidon said. “Can you like reach out telepathically?”

Kyoko bowed her head. “My quirk isn’t working. It has something to do with this collar on me. Aside from that, we’re in this basement. Even if my quirk was working, I might not be able to reach anyone.”

“Oh, that’s okay. We can figure out another way to escape.” Raidon chuckled. His positivity was infectious at times, but there was a heavy uneasiness settled on Kyoko’s shoulders. “Ah, my head sure hurts. This pounding is not helping the thinking process at all. I kind of wish I was in short-circuit mode, I might have a better chance. Together, we can come up with something. Don’t stress.”

“I never said that I was stressed,” Kyoko responded despondently. She clenched her fist at her side. Tears once again threatened to fall. “I’m sorry.”

The ropes tightened a bit. “Sorry? What would you ever have to be sorry about?”

“I feel like this is my fault.”

“None of that now, Kyoko. You can’t blame yourself for what psycho villains decide to do. It’s what you do about it that you’re responsible for. Cheer up! This could be way worse, you know?”

“Worse than being kidnapped?”

Raidon let out a sigh. “I’m not going to list out the worse parts! We’ll just get discouraged. Now, let’s put our thinking caps on.”

“I don’t have my cellphone on me,” Kyoko stated bluntly. “I left it over by my umbrella.”

“Phone! That’s it! It should be in my pocket, and—” Raidon froze. Kyoko could hear glass, plastic, and metal clanging together as he shifted around. “Oh, man. I can hear the pieces jingling together in my pocket. I’m pretty sure it was destroyed. It also probably took a punch from my lightning bolt move.”

“You took a pretty hard fall. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“I look so lame. Shit, don’t give up on me yet, Kyoko. I can get us out of here.”

“It’s not all up to you.” If anything, Kyoko should have been prepared for this. Her quirk, like her father’s and mother’s, was rare. People loved the idea of controlling other people. It didn’t matter who they had to use to do it either. Kyoko’s mother had been kidnapped with Katsuki Bakugo back in the day. The two of them held out long enough for the Pro Heroes to arrive, but even they didn’t escape on their own. Their classmates had also had a hand in their escape too.

“What did I tell you about stress, Kyoko? I can feel you all tensed up. We’re going to be great heroes, remember? Something as small as this won’t stop us.”

“Right,” Kyoko said in a small voice.

“Besides, your dad would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” Raidon gulped. “Your mom would probably help him hide the body too.” Raidon trembled a bit. “My mom would keep watch! No way am I going to let those villains do anything more to either of us.”

“Auntie Kyoka would not.” Kyoko smiled, a tear running down her face. She was so scared, but he was still making her grin like he always did. “No promises that my dad wouldn’t do something though.” Kyoko chuckled.

“That’s why I’ve got to get us out of here. I don’t want to be hoisted up in the middle of the city by Mindjack’s capture weapon with a kick me sign included. No way!”

“My dad wouldn’t do something so juvenile.” Kyoko shifted, wincing when the collar around her neck pinched her. “If only we could get this thing off of me. I could just convince those villains to let us go.”

Raidon was quiet for a moment, and he sighed. “They tied me to you so I couldn’t use my quirk, didn’t they?”

Kyoko shrugged. “It was the obvious solution for them.”

“Do you think our classmates know we’re gone yet? Mr. Ishioka is probably furious. If our parents have been notified, my dad’s already sobbing like a baby, guaranteed. He should put more faith in us.”

“My dad’s probably rampaging through the city in worry, while my mom’s trying to get him to calm down,” Kyoko said. She wished she could wipe her face. Her tears had started to itch.

“No doubt. Although, your mom can be scary when she wants to be.”

“Yeah. She’d know exactly what to do,” Kyoko said, sniffling.

“Woah, are you…?” Raidon didn’t finish the question. The ropes tightened once again. “I-I think I can cut these ropes. I can use my lightning bolt ring. It might take some time, but we’ve got plenty of that, don’t we?”

“What then?” Kyoko asked, biting into her lip.

“We get out of here, so our parents don’t have to worry so much.” It was evident he was gaining some traction based on the tension of the rope. “Can you imagine how loud Monoma is being without us around? You always manage to give him the right comebacks to quiet him down. Honestly, I think he really respects you.”

“I’m not sure Monoma holds anyone higher than himself,” Kyoko admitted.

“No, he definitely reacts differently around you. We all do. We all know how strong you are." Raidon gave the rope another pull. “Sometimes I don’t even know why you talk to me. You’re on another level to any of us.”

“People don’t think I’m strong. They’re afraid of me. They think I’m weird. And, it would be rude not to respond to you when you go out of your way to talk to me. If anything, you’re on a whole other planet than I am. Everyone in our class loves you. I’ve even seen upperclassmen go out of their way to say hi to you.”

Raidon paused. “That’s not true. I…” Raidon continued sawing at the ropes. “I think that you’re—” The rope snapped, loosening around their waists. “It worked!”

Kyoko’s eyes widened. He actually did it.

“Okay. Now, we just need to get our legs free. Do you think you can untie yours? If you can’t, give me a moment. I’ll be over to help in no time.”

Kyoko leaned down, working quickly to untie the ropes. She’d just unknotted her side, when Raidon appeared in front of her. He gave her a thumbs up.

“Step one, complete,” Raidon said, beaming. He leaned forward, tilting Kyoko’s face up. “You…” Raidon rubbed his thumb over Kyoko’s cheek. “You were crying.”

Kyoko gripped his hand, forcing him gently away. “My hair’s just wet.” Why was she lying? Why did she not want him to see that she was sad? It was natural to be scared in this situation.

“Sure,” Raidon said, avoiding questioning her. He tilted his head, smiling. He reached his hand out for Kyoko to grab. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

After discussing the possible options for escape, Raidon and Kyoko had decided to risk it all on a large attack and hope that there would be an exit on the next floor. Raidon had already examined the inhibitor collar. He didn’t want to shock it in hopes it would short-circuit because it would have just zapped her directly. There weren’t many objects around to use as weapons, but there was a lot of space in the room. Raidon could use his quirk to its full capacity at the top the stairs. Kyoko would rush up and guide him out. It was a risk, but it would be their best chance of escape.

The two of them now stood at the top of the stairs, listening in on the other side. Kyoko had already done her best to tie a knot between the handle and a metal pipe. It would give the two of them even more time should the villains decide to come back down. She was thankful her father had taught her so many knots. This one would allow her to easily undo it, but it was practically undoable to those who did not have access to the rope itself. It was clear that the group of villains were all standing on the other side of the door. A news broadcast sounded like it was playing in the background.

“The heroes are crawling all over the place. Did we have to kidnap the kid with a parent that’s one of the top search and rescue heroes in Japan?” Hibari’s rough voice reverberated across the room.

“She’s not the only one we have to worry about. What are the chances that both of these brats collectively have four Pro Hero parents that are high on the hero charts? Mindjack, Chargebolt, Earphone Jack, and Think. I don’t see how that’s fair,” Sako said. She sounded much closer to the door.

“We’ll have to move Kyoko Shinso soon, or they’ll find us. They already suspect that The Antihero Syndicate has something to do with the kidnapping. It’s only a matter of time,” Shinju said.

“Are you going to shatter another chair, Shinju?” Hibari asked.

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to shatter you,” she replied.

“Don’t we have more pressing matters to deal with than arguing? Why can’t we move now?” Kando asked.

“It’s too risky. We need to move when we’re sure that we aren’t seen. It’s over if we’re noticed. Besides, the facility location has yet to be fully revealed to me. I know a general area, but that’s it.”

“Told you that you should have let me scope out the Nomu facility ahead of time. I could have teleportaled us there instantly,” Kando mumbled.

“I told you that I haven’t even been notified of its location. We wait to move, and that’s final,” Shinju said. “If you want to do something useful, go check on the kids.”

Raidon glanced at Kyoko, and she nodded back. She rushed down the stairs to the farthest point in the room. Raidon had deliberately told her to cover her eyes just in case, but it was difficult for her to turn away. Once he let loose, he’d be totally vulnerable. It would be all up to Kyoko to lead them out, and, with any luck, they’d do it while the villains were incapacitated.

“Empurpled Indiscriminate Shock Two Million Volts!” Raidon shouted.

Kyoko covered her head, praying that she was far enough away to ensure she wasn’t struck. The purple light flashed across the dull gray walls, and the electricity buzzed loudly. As soon as the light had dimmed and the noise quieted, Kyoko sprinted for the stairs. Her bare feet felt numb against the concrete floor. Kyoko turned her gaze upward, and Raidon sputtered out small electrical sparks as he gave a thumbs up to the hand railing. Kyoko took the stairs two at a time, grabbing Raidon by the wrist, despite the miniscule shocks that prickled over her skin. She reached for the rope, but froze when she noticed the door changing color.

Raidon didn’t hit all of the villains. Shinju was still standing. Kyoko trembled in fear. Raidon made a joyful gurgling sound. She couldn’t freeze, not now, not when her friend depended on her. The door cracked, pieces of porcelain breaking off and crumbling. Shinju’s doll mask appeared in the empty space. Fear struck Kyoko hard, but she managed to stand firm. She had to for Raidon.

“Give up, and I won’t kill you,” Shinju said.

Kyoko tightened her hold on Raidon’s wrist. They’d make it out together. She’d make sure that they made it out together. Kyoko struck the crumbling door. Shinju jumped back so shards would not hit her. When they climbed through the opening, Kyoko pushed Raidon to the right. He stumbled in the direction as oblivious as ever in his short-circuited state.

“You little brats!” Hibari shouted. She staggered to her feet, purple electricity pulsing over her and smoke swirling off of her skin. She leaned against a bar stool, gaining her balance.

Thankfully, Sako and Kando had been incapacitated, but Kyoko would have a hard time fighting two villains without her quirk or support equipment. She didn��t have a choice. Raidon had put his faith in her to get them out. She wouldn’t betray his trust.

“Truly a shame you decided to make this difficult. I can still bring you to the doctor in pieces. It may be more work for him, but it’s doable.” Shinju lowered her stance. Her hands spread, ready to attack. “Your quirk is what we’re truly after. Not you.”

Kyoko pressed her lips together in a firm line. They appeared to be standing in a dive bar, abandoned by the looks of it. The door was on the opposite side of the villains. Two were up and two were incapacitated. While on high alert, Kyoko noticed one of the unconscious villains begin to stir. If it ended up as one against three, Kyoko would hardly have a chance, but she couldn’t give up now. Kyoko had trained not to rely on her quirk only. It had scared her. She trained with her father and her mother for years to hone it, but it wasn’t the only thing she focused on because great power came with greater drawbacks. She’d been caught off guard before, but not again. This was why Kyoko had been so irritated to be held back from using her quirk on the beach. She had already trained deeply in hand-to-hand combat. She needed even more training to gain full control of her powers.

Shinju launched forward. She was fast, but as silent as her movements were, they were predictable in their trajectory. Kyoko dodged, sweeping Shinju’s arm away and avoiding her hand. An unearthly growl revealed that Shinju was short-tempered. She struck quickly again, but Kyoko saw it coming. Kyoko stepped around her easily.

“What are you waiting for?!” Hibari shouted. “End this.” The villain trudged forward, her wings igniting in bright blue flame. “Do I have to do everything myself?” She reached out toward Raidon.

Kyoko moved. Shinju’s eyes widened. She went to get in her way, only for Kyoko to twist her back around with a single block. Kyoko’s hand was on Hibari’s wrist in seconds. Before she had time to react, Kyoko had flipped her over onto her back using a combat throw. Hibari’s blue feathers dispersed, avoiding singing the villain upon impact. The air left her lungs long enough for Kyoko to usher Raidon back.

“You cocky little shit,” Hibari hissed out. “I’ll burn you.”

“Not before I shatter her limbs,” Shinju said.

Two against one was hardly fair. Despite how cool Kyoko presented herself, she was quaking on the inside. Fighting villains on her own was terrifying. One wrong move, and she could die. The longer she kept up the fight, the harder it would be to keep them back. Kyoko already felt her limbs tiring. They’d practically gone numb while tied and swimming earlier in the day had also taken a toll.

Shinju moved again, Hibari not far behind her. The two of them attacked at once, neither caring if they got in the way of the other. Kyoko maneuvered between them. More than a few times, the two villains nearly collided.

“Keep your hands away from me!” Hibari shrieked.

“Get your damn feathers out of the way!” Shinju shouted back.

Kyoko became cornered. She shoved Raidon out of the way before another attack. Shinju swiped her fingers through Kyoko’s hair. Kyoko gasped as she was pulled back. She heard her hair crackling as Shinju’s quirk weaved its way through her brown and purple strands.

The door was forced open from the street. Kyoko’s mother, Think, decked out in her full Pro Hero costume stood in the entryway. Without even having to lift a finger, she’d sent a mind blast at Shinju. The villain was sent flying into the nearby wall. The ends of Kyoko’s hair shattered, thankfully Shinju’s quirk hadn’t come close to her scalp.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on my daughter again!” Think shouted.

Hibari turned, scowling. Her feathers broke free from her back, dashing across the small space with fiery precision. Kyoko covered her head in protection, but her mother had already formed a mind barrier around her. It was hard to see. Kyoko could barely make out Hibari lifting her fallen comrades with some nearly doused feathers. Shinju had broken through the wall she’d been sent into. The white porcelain crashed to the floor like teardrops.

“Kando, get us out of here!” Hibari shouted.

Her wings and feathers did very little to keep Kyoko’s mother from moving forward, as she simply bounced the attacks off of an invisible barrier. Still, Think’s main focus was always on Kyoko. Even her attention had shifted toward her daughter, as she eased into the room.

The half-conscious villain pressed his hands to the ground. That green mist appeared, only for the villains to dissolve into it. Kyoko’s father, Mindjack, leapt past her mother, but he was too late to grab them. Kyoko fell to her knees as soon as they’d disappeared, bursting into tears. Her mother was already there to catch her.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Think ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair, calmly shushing her. “You were so brave. I’m so proud of you.”

Kyoko let her dote on her. It was one of the only things, keeping her from feeling absolutely helpless. She knew she did well, but in a single rush of relief, all of Kyoko’s emotions struck her at once as broken sobs. Think pressed kisses to her daughter’s forehead, patiently waiting for her to calm down.

“Yes. They’ve fled. We’re on the eastside. I’m sending you the coordinates now,” Mindjack said into his communicator. He’d already started walking toward his daughter. “They’re both safe and appear unharmed.” He glanced at Raidon who was giving a thumbs up to a lamp. “Raidon seems to have maxed his quirk out. He’s okay.”

Kyoko gently stood up from her mother’s arms and rushed to her father, burying her face into his chest. He held her back in return.

“You must be freezing,” Mindjack said.

Think removed her cape, wrapping it around Kyoko’s shoulders. “Let me get this collar off of you. It should only take a moment. Stay still.” Kyoko’s mother focused her mind quirk, breaking the inhibitor by pulling it from either side. Kyoko didn’t even feel it touch her as it broke off.

Kyoko’s quirk came to life. The familiar buzz in her mind sent a smile to her face. She was afraid that she would never experience her powers ever again.

“Are those burns?” Mindjack asked, scanning over his daughter with a scowl.

“They are, b-but it could have been a lot worse. I’m okay, Dad,” Kyoko said, shivering. “If it weren’t for Raidon, I’m not sure I would have made it this far without more serious injury. Those villains were ruthless. He didn’t let me doubt our escape for a moment though. He knew you’d all find us.”

Mindjack turned toward Raidon. “I’m just glad you’re both safe.” Mindjack shut his eyes, sighing. “I can’t help but think that if we were here sooner, we would have caught those villains. My agency has been looking into The Antihero Syndicate for some time now, as they’ve been making moves. We never expected them to target you. Their normal motives have been lucrative in nature. It appears that they are evolving, which means I will be sure to take them down before something like this ever happens again.”

“Where is he?!” Denki Kaminari burst through the already broken in door, tears streaming down his face.

Earphone Jack followed close behind him, rolling her eyes. “They said that he was fine. Look, he’s right over there.”

“My son!” Kaminari rushed through the room, wrapping his arms around Raidon.

Raidon made an unintelligible sound, hiccupping on a goofy laugh. Yellow and purple sparks intertwined between the two of them with the swelling of emotions.

“You’re taking this rather well,” Mindjack stated plainly to Earphone Jack.

“I trust you. If you said he was okay, then he’s okay. Besides, Raidon and his father have a knack for getting into tough situations and beating them with positivity. I had no doubt Raidon was going to be fine.”

“I wish that I could be as calm as you. I broke in here out for blood,” Think said sheepishly. “My quirk is still going crazy.”

“If you weren’t showing any emotions, then I’d be more concerned, Think. You always showed your heart on your sleeve in high school.” Earphone Jack gave Kyoko’s mother a soft smile, turning toward Kyoko. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

Kyoko glanced toward Raidon, wiping tear residue from her cheeks. “It would have been a lot worse if it weren’t for Raidon talking me through it. How long is he going to be like that?”

Earphone Jack tilted her head to the side. “Depends on how many volts he used and how long ago it was, but I have no doubt he went beyond his limit for you.”

“Me? Because I’m his classmate, right?” Kyoko asked.

Earphone Jack leaned forward, giving Kyoko a knowing smile. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but he’s been crushing on you since you two were little. If he’s as flirty with everyone as his father was at his age, I’m sure it wasn’t obvious that he treated you a bit differently.”

Kyoko blushed, surprised that Raidon’s own mother would tell her something that private.

“Oh, little Raidon used to be so cute about it too. He’d hand me flowers and told me they were a special present for Kyoko. He was so bold at only five. He even told me that the two of you were going to get married when he was a big boy,” Think said, giggling to herself.

“Mom,” Kyoko mumbled in embarrassment.

“One, I hate the information that has suddenly been divulged to me about my daughter. Two, my baby girl is not allowed to have a boyfriend, let alone marry Spark Plug Number Two. It’s loud enough around me with Denki as my friend,” Kyoko’s father grumbled.

Kyoko covered her face in embarrassment. There was no way that this could get any worse. Between being kidnapped by villains and Kyoko’s parents openly discussing her romantic life, she might have been having the poorest day of her life.

“Woah, Dad! Chill out. Those aren’t real tears, are they? Don’t you trust me? Of course, we’re okay,” Raidon piped up, clearly no longer a brainless idiot. He turned toward Kyoko, giving her a thumbs up. “I didn’t doubt us for a second, especially with Kyoko as my partner.”

“Oh, that’s it. You and I are going to have a long talk about your relationship with my daughter, young man,” Mindjack stated, rolling his hero costume sleeves up.

Raidon and Denki’s faces blanched. The two of them exchanged a look of concern. Kyoko grabbed onto her father’s capture weapon, trying to get him to stop.

“Hitoshi, you and I started our relationship around their age. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with Raidon. I think he’s a nice boy. You can’t be so strict with Kyoko either,” Think said.

“He’s a boy, Kitten. And, boys only have one thing on their minds at this age. My daughter will not be dating anyone until I’m so old I don’t know what age I am.”

“Dad, we’re not dating,” Kyoko choked out, wishing that she had an invisibility quirk.

“I just want to talk to him,” Mindjack said, looping his capture weapon around his hands.

“That doesn’t look like you just want to talk to him, Hitoshi,” Think stated plainly.

“I’m just going to talk to him,” he repeated.

“How did we go from panic searching for our kids, to this?” Earphone Jack asked.

“Hitoshi can get a little overprotective that’s all,” Think whispered.

“M-Mr. Shinso, I promise I do not have any ill-intentions toward your daughter,” Raidon stuttered out. His quirk sparking up.

“So, you don’t want to date my daughter?” Mindjack asked.

Raidon blushed, glancing toward Kyoko. “I, uh, I didn’t say that. I mean…” Raidon gulped.

Even Kyoko knew that wasn’t the right thing to say to her father. She slapped her palm against her forehead. Mindjack was visibly shaking. His hands clenched tighter around his binding cloth.

“Hitoshi,” Think warned, and Kyoko’s father froze. “The two of them have been through enough for one day. Please don’t scare the poor boy.”

Mindjack sighed, relaxing his muscles. “I know, Kitten. I just can’t help it.” Mindjack abruptly pointed at his eyes then at Raidon. “But, I’m still watching you.”

“Yes, sir,” Raidon said.

Mindjack turned around, grabbing his daughter by the hand. “You have been through enough. Let’s get you home.”

#Think Alternate Future Next Gen #Think Alternate Future #bnha think #mha think #Raidon Kaminari #Kyoko Shinso #denki kaminari #mha kaminari #kamijirou #shinso hitoshi #shinso #hitoshi shinso #bnha shinsou #Anna Kokoro #mha next gen #bnha next gen #Shinju Shigaraki #Hibari Takami #Sako

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