Latest Posts by ninrixs - Page 3

✝️ • she/her • music enthusiast 🎧 • 📚 reading enthusiast js a girl obsessing with fictional men ♡

𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭.. (the neighborhood)

THE TERRIBLE EGOIST — i.y

⛤ isagi yoichi x fem! reader

The popular football player rejected you and didn’t expect you to get over him so easily. If you liked him before he can get you to like him again.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie(s). oral (f. receiving). jerk isagi. dub-con. rough sex. pet names (baby, pretty, princess). finger sucking. marking. overstimulation. multiple orgasms + mention of multiple rounds. pussy drunk isagi. college au. intoxication. mentions of alcohol. +18!

wc: 2.9k

Isagi yoichi was the biggest egoist of them all. His popularity of being the best football player on the team at a university he attends and of course his good looks that kept his reputation up and the girls in line. He couldn’t simply ruin that with having girlfriend or anything that had to do with dating. He had only one thing to be stressed about and that was football. Though it sure wasn’t a problem if he just had his fun.

He was use to it, rejecting girls because he wants to focus on his upcoming games and he had no time for relationships. That didn’t stop them from at least trying again once or twice, maybe more than that. No one could get over him, that’d be impossible in his egotistic mind. Even people are to be warned not to be messed with him because he would easily tell you he doesn’t do that kind of “stuff” after just him making out with you 30 seconds ago.

He’s not mean about it though, he wouldn’t tell you to straight up thats he’s just not interested in you instead he says it sincerely even though he knows what he’s doing and how to do it, letting them down easy he knows they always come back anyways. Isagi loathes in the feeling of being adored, if he could get it from his fans he can get it from somewhere else and a different audience. How else could he keep himself entertained with the ladies?

“I really do like you Isagi” Then there was a long pause when you waited for him to answer, he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground before he could give you the bad news.

“‘M sorry I don’t really do relationships, I just want to focus on my career and I don’t want ‘dating’ to get in the way of that..we can always be friends though?”

You were confused, you don’t get it? He was flirting and teasing you for weeks. You were hanging out a lot, people would’ve been convinced you both were dating. You never kissed or held hands but surely it had to be obvious. Your friends convinced you that he liked you back, no guy would act that way towards a girl he doesn’t like or wouldn’t want to take things further with? Was he just leading you on?

“Uh..yeah i understand...” you really didn’t, you wanted to ask him why but he would probably repeat what he just said.

Isagi sighs like he has not gone through many let downs and watch the disappointment of his victim. “No hard feelings?”

“Yeah..none”

Then it’s been a week since he hasn’t seen you. Usually they come back in a day or two in his book so why haven’t you? It shouldn’t stress him out about it, it’s just longer than he expected it to be. His stupid ego got the best of him and his way of thinking that he could have every girl begging on their knees for him.

Jealousy bites him in the back when he’s sees you talking to other guys especially the ones on his team, he shouldn’t be jealous? He doesn’t even like you, he’s the one who rejected you so why does it eat at him? He wasn’t focused on anyone but you not paying him no mind, he’ll walk by you expecting to connect eye contact but you’ll be chatting up with your friends like he doesn’t exist. Maybe he could try to get you to like him again to fill his ego, yeah that’s probably it. You guys never made out or had sex, that was maybe the problem and he just had to do that.

You slowly became irritated when he kept trying to talk to you though they were just failed conversations. You didn’t know why he was trying to talk to you and you were trying to avoid him, how else could you move on from him?

He invites you to a party for tonight as a start of a friendship he wanted to build with you hoping you weren’t still upset with him, your friends really wanted to go since his teammates would be there and you agreed taking a chance with Isagi. You had a gut feeling but you didn’t know whether it was good or bad, you just knew something was to come as he grins to himself when you said yes. A scheme he has planned behind his soft smile.

Isagi being an athlete, he wasn’t a drinker though he offered you one, another one, also two more. Honestly you stopped counting after the second. Perhaps it was the alcohol but you started to feel glad that you and Isagi come to an agreement to be friends. Maybe you were too harsh, maybe he genuinely wanted to be friends as you were trying to ignore him this whole time.

The way your hands started to feel clammy because he kept staring at you, you felt as if his gaze your burning into your skin, you felt nervous, rubbing your hands on your dress. Why are you feeling nervous? You don’t like him, well you used to. You tried to push the thoughts away that he is cute, no he was and isn’t still you don’t really like him? You wonder if it was just your drunken mind playing tricks on you or the feelings were coming back again and he can read you good.

“Don’t do that..” he tilts his head at you as if he were oblivious however he knows all too well. “Don’t do what?”

“You’re looking at me like...” you didn’t want to assume or flat out say it, you shrug because you didn’t know what to add on or decide not to jump to conclusions, Isagi laughs to himself.

He’s a good guy with no rude intentions, yet he’s leading you by the hand upstairs in a unoccupied room.

“Why are we in here?” You sat on the edge of the bed watching him shut the door behind him “it’s quieter for us” he sat right next to you, he didn’t leave space between you both he was so close his figure was towering over you and you can feel his body warmth emit on your arm. You don’t know why you didn’t ask him another question about you both here alone when the party is clearly downstairs.

His hand is rubbing your inner thigh, his fingers are carefully slipping up your dress and his lips softly brushes against yours so it wasn’t fully a kiss, you didn’t know if you should so you mutter “I thought we were friends now Isagi”

“We are..unless you like me now..?”

“I-i don’t know…” you rubbed your knees together

“We’ll see” he kisses you roughly, honestly he’s trying to at least bruise your lips. You try to take in as much breaths but he doesn’t allow you to, his tongue blocking your airway in your mouth and your breathing heavily through your nose.

As he’s basically consuming you, his hand that was placed in your inner thigh moved towards to your covered pussy. Your hands grasp his arm to stop his fingers massaging your folds through your underwear. When his lips began attacking your neck you whine out his name when you start to feel the heat increase throughout your body, you felt you were gonna melt.

You smelt good as he placed wet kisses on your neck, sucking lightly on your skin leaving colored hues and moved onto another blank space of your skin he could mark. Isagi never thought it’d be easy to get you here, he might’ve thought wrong that you’d be difficult to get you where he needed you to be and he’s only kissing your neck and playing with your pussy behind your panties.

He presses lightly on it and you let out a shattered breath “Right here?” And he starts to rub your clit in circular motion. If you were sober without an drop of alcohol you probably wouldn’t let Isagi have his way with you, but you’re moaning under your breath, your jutting your hips against his hand, your eyes fluttered when he reaches under you rubbing the outside of your cunt.

Your mind getting slightly fuzzy you decided to fall onto your back on the soft bed when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. “Come on baby you can’t give up on me now” he takes off your shoes before he climbed onto the bed to spread your legs open.

“I can’t” you shake your head though you’re not kicking back to stop, you let him feel up your sides because his touch is warm and made you feel good, it had to be the alcohol lingering in your system or your feelings for Isagi are starting to come back even though you were helping yourself get over him before you came to this party “I just want you to like me princess” sounding sincere when he places a quick kiss on your lips, he lifts up your dress over your stomach to pull your panties down your hips and off your legs.

He’s caressing your thighs, riling you up and pampering kisses between your inner legs his face drawing dangerously close to your bare pussy. His hands push your thighs nearly to your stomach, giving you a peck on your cunt and the warm wet muscle ghost over your cunt making your breathing harder than it should be.

It was like he was making out with your pussy, his lips and tongue burying deep in your pussylips, his arms were locked around your thighs so you couldn’t pull away, you could only move your lower legs and you writhed on the bed in bliss and constantly moaned his name. “Ah! Isagi!..hah!” You could be as loud as you wanted because the music was loud enough to hide your pathetic whines.

Your hands grip the sheets underneath you until his tongue flicked your clit, sucking on it slow your hand reaches for his dark hair, your fingers tangling through his locks at the top of his head. “Oh-my g-ah!…” you sputtered, he’s still eating you out like a hungry man.

He’s lost into licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, your fingers tugging on his hair and moaning his name is making his dick hard, he’s growing amusement of his licks that are long and slow, dragging up on your clit and his lips wrap around it. Your hips are moving up and down, grinding on his face. If he could have you sit on his face he would but he needed you to cum, cum on his lips.

You started to become more squirmy when you feel your cunt twitch and your clit burning to cum when he sucks harder. Your hand through his hair tightening and your moans were becoming high pitched.

You rolled your head back moaning his name when you feel yourself cum on his mouth, his lips wouldn’t detach from your fluttering pussy and continued to use his mouth until he was ready to be done. After a bit though he didn’t want to work you up on another orgasm so he halted himself from eating you further more.

“You taste so good princess y’know that?” He comes up on top of you and to offer you a sloppy kiss whilst he’s unbuttoning his pants to pull out his hardened cock. You brought your hands behind his neck to keep kissing you more, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. you were already defeated when you first came into this room and you let him feel you up, you wanted to beat yourself up for it but you’re too dazed out of your mind to care, kissing Isagi now when you never got to before, you just wanted him in the moment.

Isagi gave himself a couple strokes, he opens your legs for more entry and with no warning your tight walls are being pushed aside by his cock when he slowly sheaved himself in, you gasp loudly by the disturbance of his dick intruding your pussy. Your breathing was shaky and Isagi hisses when you grip him tight and didn’t bother giving you a chance to process his dick inside you when he starts his hungry thrusts.

“Isagi-”

“Sorry princess..i gotta fuck you now” he was so harsh and fast, he was bullying you. The egoists cock was rubbing so relentlessly in your pussy, you’re moaning so much and each time he makes sure he slams his cock deep. He squeezes your tits and he wasn’t soft with them either, he was kneading them in his hand like hard dough.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you and here I thought you didn’t like me anymore..do you like me now? I know you do” you didn’t have to say yes, he already answered for you, you were too overwhelmed to speak though you could whine with your fingers slightly over your mouth so you could breathe.

He moves your hand out of your face as his thumb slips between your lips into your mouth, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your tongue. “That’s it baby suck on it” your lips wrap around his thumb just like how he had demanded.

You hummed with his thumb in your mouth, batting your pretty eyelashes at him and he grits his teeth with his stamina rising even more from the way you look at him, like you were purposely doing it to get him to fuck you even harder like as he was pounding into you anyways. He couldn’t let you get to him, it had to be the other way around.

“Looking at me like that pretty?-ah!” His cock jerked inside, knowing he was about to release his cum the more he constantly pushed his dick in and out of you. His jaw hung open, panting and moaning when he feels his nerves on fire. As you were about to touch yourself he rubbed your clit with his wet thumb that was settling in your mouth so you both can cum together.

“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum Isagi!” Isagi is so rough with you, him adding onto more to build your orgasm intensively circling your sweet bud.

Shock takes over his face when your legs wrap around his waist and you pleaded him “please cum inside me! Please Isa-!” Did you just beg him to? He was going to anyway though he didn’t expect you to practically be desperate for it that your legs are secured around his waist. Fuck, why did his heart just sink?

“Y-yeah, I’ll cum right in you, just for you princess” he growled, his last thrust he sunk deep into your spasming walls and his pushed down on your clit. Your eyelids twitched feeling his cum empties in your womb, your body quivered, it felt like stars were floating everywhere around you. “‘ts feels good..f-feels ‘s good” you whined.

Isagi bit his bottom lip gazing at your pretty tired face, This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he couldn’t keep up his ego anymore. He grew hard again and the only thoughts running through his head was wanting to fuck you again.

How long has it been? Two, four rounds, more? Both your bodies would completely stripped off of clothes, sweat mixing together that his hair was slightly damp. The music still booming loud as ever outside meaning people were still here which you both had completely forgotten since you were both gone into drowning in pleasure. Isagi is still in between your legs, pounding into your swollen pussy that had a brimful of his cum because he came so many times like he was still a starving caveman needing more.

Isagi is so deep into your pussy he forgot what was his motive the whole time, you’re mewling for him to stop but damn you look so pretty, why did he reject you again? He couldn’t even remember anything before he got into this room with you because of the delight of your hot cunt had him hooked. His arms beside your head as he watched you cry from the sensitivity of your previous orgasms he drew out of you. His heart fluttering in his chest when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper his name.

You both couldn’t think correctly but just thinking about how much it feels like heaven and the need to cum again.

“‘m about to cum again Isagi!” You repeated again before, He nodded while he was also cum again and damn he was so out of energy of pulling orgasm after orgasm, his breaths were shattered, his thrusts were sloppy. His tongue hanging from his mouth like he had fight to finish. “‘m cumming too-fuck!” Another addictive feeling washing over you both at the same time, once again he gives you another bundle of his cum.

Isagi finally caught his breath and noticed your leg’s couldn’t stop trembling. “F-fuck Isagi, I’m shaking…” you murmured. His stomach was in knots and not because he had just came but he was going against his own rules he made up the beginning. His evil scheme had failed when he came down to kiss you again but it was softer, didn’t bother pulling out, he rose back up with straight up determination in his eyes.

“Be my girlfriend..”

Hair

wc:; 1.4k

tags: black reader x katsuki, newly established relationship (still trying to keep up the illusion for your partner), black reader doing her hair, emotional reader, Katsuki being the rational calm boyfriend, fluffy, cute ending.

a/n: i skimmed barely proofread sorry for any mistakes, hope you guys enjoy. reblogs appreciated.

“I can come over tonight?” Katsuki asked on speaker of your phone. 

You two spent everyday together since he had confessed to you by shoving flowers into your hands and running off before you had a chance to respond in slight shock. 

“Uh I’m busy tonight sorry.” You said watching yourself in the mirror studying your scalp distracted. 

“Okay what about tomorrow?” Katsuki grunted unhappy he would spend time away from you. 

“Tomorrow I'm busy too, i can’t hang out this weekend.” You said eyeing the thin black plastic bag filled with beauty supplies sitting on your vanity. 

He frowned, you always told him about upcoming plans you had. At lunch always rambling about whatever you wanted and him listening with small grunts and nods. You didn’t mention anything before about plans. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. Not wanting to pry so early into a relationship and scare you off. He had plans to make you his permanently but he was nosey. 

“My hair,” You answered honestly.

“What do you mean your hair? It takes that long?” He asked confused. 

“Yeah, it does. I have a lot of hair and it takes a lot of hours sometimes a couple of days.” You admitted with a sigh already dreading the process. 

Katsuki sat there on the other side of the phone with a small sigh of relief. You weren’t blowing him off with anyone else, just your hair. He had no idea about black hair but he knew he cared about you and that meant this was important. 

“Do you need help?” He offered making you silent in surprise widely blinking at the phone. 

The man that would tell his partner in the field to fuck off when he asked. Was readily offering you his help. 

You let out a small laugh, “I do but I don’t think you know what that entails. It’s a really long process and it’s tiring. Im okay though thanks for asking.” 

He just wanted to see you. After spending every day together for a month, he doesn’t know if he could go 3 days. 

“Alright the offer still stands if you change your mind. Don’t tire yourself out.” He sighed and you both said your goodbyes. 

You fiddled with the ends of your hair with a huff. 

“Let’s get this over with.” 

~

You wanted to ram your head into a wall. Staring at half your head being braided, 10 hours down and probably another 7 to go. 

Your back hurt, your arms hurt, your head hurt it was not ideal. Not eating all day and getting irritated at everything you were in a mood. 

Throwing the rat tail comb from your hands on the floor you flopped onto your bed in tears needing a break. 

Your phone began buzzing, face still in the mattress you reached around til you found it and pressed answer button. 

“Hello,” You answered muffled 

“Hey how’s it going?” Bakugo asked 

You sniffled pulling your head up tears running. 

“It’s fine.” 

Bakugo heard how upset you were causing his forehead to crease, “What’s wrong baby?” in a softer voice. 

“It’s nothing it’s just my hair and i’m tired and cranky and i haven’t eaten all day. I’ve only done maybe half of my head and i want to stop.” You said through tears. 

“Hey, hey please stop crying it’ll be okay.” Katsuki said trying to soothe you through the phone but it wasn’t working. Noticing a twinge in his chest at the sound of your soft sniffles.

You left out small huffs trying to control your breathing, “Yeah…sorry I should go you don’t want to hear me crying. Sorry to bother.” You realized you were probably scaring away the one guy you did like with your hysterics. 

“No I didn-“ 

“I have to go thanks for calling.” 

Katsuki stared at the phone feeling his stomach sink. 

~

You cried until your eyes were puffy and reluctantly went back to braiding your hair. You were so impatient and tender headed but you would not spend 200+ dollars on box braids. 

After about an hour you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to your boyfriend with a bag of takeout and one from the pharmacy. 

You yelped in surprise slamming the door just as fast as you opened it. 

Katsuki was very confused and kind of hurt at your reaction. 

“Y/n! What the fuck come on.” He yelled from the other side of the door. 

Your face held such embarrassment, hoping this was a figment of your imagination. 

Your boyfriend was NOT here when you looked like a hot mess. 

Your non-black boyfriend at that. 

This is a nightmare. 

“What are you doing here!” You yelled back through the door. 

“Baby you were crying and I haven’t seen you in almost 2 days!"

You groaned, “You can’t see me like this! you have to go home.” 

He grunted in annoyance, “You better open up. Im not leaving when you were crying.” 

You were silent waiting for him to go home and he wasn’t budging. With a sigh you opened the door peaking out at him. 

“Are ya gonna let me in?” He asked with raised blond eyebrows and pretty crimson eyes.

You opened the door and stepped aside. 

“What’s wrong why are you slamming doors and crying?” He asked looking down at you as he entered your apartment.  

You slowly closed the door behind you and leaned back against it. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You admitted thankful that you didn't blush noticeably.

“Baby like what.” He sighed dropping the bags on your coffee table and bringing you in close. 

Your head fell into his muscular chest, smelling his cologne.

“My hair.” You mumbled into his shirt.

He pulled back and used one hand to push back your hair to see your face. Your hair is in sections and a half-braided mess. 

“I like you and your hair. So will you calm down please?” 

“Really?” You asked with teary eyes looking up at him. 

“Yes, I do.” He reassured his hands gently holding you, his main goal to calm you down from this tired anxiety driven mood.

“Okay.” You mumbled head falling back into his chest. 

He rubbed your back, “What’s going on?” asking again. 

“I stayed up all night and im not even halfway done. I have a headache.” You mumbled in tears. 

Katsuki led you to the couch and made you take a seat. 

“Take a break. You look hangry and I brought food.” He said propping you in his lap and handing you takeout. 

You finished your food and leaned your head in his neck. Your headache stopping. He was right as usual, you were hangry. 

“I’m sorry for slamming the door in your face that was mean.” You said wrapping him in a side hug. 

His hand rubbed the side of your thigh with a light kiss on your nose. 

“It’s okay, ya didnt break my nose with the door slam.” Katsuki said making you laugh.

“Can I?” He asked gesturing to your head and you nodded. 

Katsuki’s thick fingers touching your blow dried hair. 

“It’s soft.” He said with mild surprise, “Like really soft.” 

You laughed, “Yeah I do have soft hair, but so do you.” Reaching up and lightly tugging on his spiky blonde hair. His hair was getting longer in the back. It may be because he loves your hands all over him and especially his head, giving you more hair to yank. Just a theory of course you would never say to him.

He grunted, “You feel better?” 

“Yes…” You nodded as he smiled knowing what he was gonna say

“Crying over the being hungry?” He teased showing his canines with his smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Are you discriminating against a black woman?” You squinted but Bakugo had heard that before. 

“I just came over here with food to stop your crying and got a door slammed in my face.” He said with narrowed eyes matching your own.

“Uh fine.” You sighed, “Can you not be a good boyfriend so I can call you a bigot.” Your hand trailing up his stomach under his shirt, wanting skin to skin contact.

He pinched the inside of your thigh making you yelp in pain in response. His head deeply buried into your neck just enjoying your touch

“Ow…”You whined rubbing the bruised spot. 

isagi bf texts ❤︎

tags: slight suggestive convo, fluff, sarcasm, fem. reader, hs au

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notes: uhh this is to feed yall bc i haven’t posted anything yet🔥

lmk what yall think and i’ll do more 😝

wrote this while i was almost dying （＾∇＾）

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I HAVE A SUPER ANGSTY IDEA

and thought...

You know Satomi and Toshinori really do love each other but what if they broke up? Now I don't think Toshinori would EVER break up with Satomi unless she cheated or something and Satomi would NEVER cheat....

HOWEVER,

I imagine that Toshinori and Kane go to America (Izuku pulled some strings with Melissa) either for third year or for a year after high school for interning and being sidekicks. But Satomi isn't training to be a Hero, she's in Hero Management (Like Reader) so she can't follow them.

And I can imagine her breaking up with him over it.

"Satomi," Standing in the doorway leading to her backyard was her boyfriend. Toshinori put his hands in his pockets as he took a step outside towards her. "Your step-mom told me to find you out here. You said you wanted to talk?"

Satomi stood with her hands on the railing, her back to her boyfriend of over a year. Her grip was tight as small hard cracks came to fingers showing her hardening quirk spilling through. She let out a stuttered breath, furrowing her dyed red eyebrows before forcing a smile to her face and turning around to look at him. "You... you and Kane are going to the US soon."

"Yah!" Toshinori's green eyes brightened, the same way they did when he was younger. Wide eyed, precious, sweet and charming. For the first time since Satomi knew the green haired boy, she wished she didn't love it as much as she did. "I can't believe Aunty Melissa would do that for us?! A whole year at one of the top ranking hero schools! I mean America seems like an absolute terrifying place but I mean, it's only for a year and we can learn so much from them!" He started to ramble off excitedly, a smile on his face. "And-" He paused as he looked down at his girlfriend. He instantly noticed the type of smile on her face. "What's wrong?" He asked stepping closer to her, and taking a hold of her soft hand.

She swallowed down hard but kept her smile on her face. Toshinori loved her smile. "You guys will be gone for a long time and... well you might decide to extend your stay and intern there."

Toshinori looked to the side with a scoff. "I doubt that. VISA's are such a hassle to get and I don't think I want to sidekick there. I want to focus on Japan."

"But it's possible." Toshinori paused as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to where this was going. "I just think..." She started out softly. "That we should go on a break."

Toshinori froze. Nothing went through his head for a second. "A... a break? Like you... you want to break up?"

"Just till you get back." Satomi stressed.

Toshinori didn't get it. His eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, closing his green eyes as he scratched the back of his head trying to wrap his head around this. "I... I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?" He asked. "Did I hurt you? If so you have to tell me."

She quickly shook her head. "No, of course not! I just... I don't want to hold you back."

"Hold me back? Hold me back from what?" He asked. "I don't understand. Why can't we date while we're away?"

"Toshinori, I'll be 13 hours ahead of you!"

"I'll call even if it's 3am for me."

"You'll be over 10 thousand kilometers away!"

"That's why phones exist!"

"Toshinori, you'll be surrounded by so many amazing girls there, and presented with so many amazing opportunities." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes with a forced smile. "I don't want to tear you away from that. You deserve to have it all and not think about me in the process of your decisions."

Toshinori's face scrunched up as he took in her words. "Satomi, I don't care about other girls. I don't want other girls. I want you. I love you." He moved to hold onto her shoulders. "And of course I would think about you, you're the girl I choose."

"Toshi-"

"Satomi, we can do this. It's just for a year, and I'll be back for senior dance and holidays! It'll be perfect." He let out with an anxious smile, ready to commit to anything.

"I-"

"I'll put in the effort and if I don't, Kane will make sure I do."

"To-"

"You'll see. It won't even be like we're far apart."

"TOSHINORI!" She shouted, snapping him out of it. "I just want a break! I don't think I can do this with you so far away!"

"So... you're not even willing to try?"

Satomi didn't answer that question.

And that's when Toshinori knew that this was the end. Satomi watched it on his face. The terrifying moment where the love and urgency in her boyfriend's eyes faded and there was nothing. Nothing. Not a single emotion.

Satomi drew in a breath as she stepped forward. Panic starting to develop within her. "No, Toshinori, no, no, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Do that!" She let out with tears in her eyes as she tried her best not to start crying. "I know you Midoriyas do that. You just shut down all your emotions. Talk to me!"

Toshinori stepped back out of her grasp, his face not showing an emotion at all. Monotonous and expressionless. "There's nothing to talk about. You want a break? Here it is. I'm giving it to you."

"Toshi-"

"But don't expect me to ever unpause this break."

Satomi felt tears in her eyes as she tried to fight back the tears. She drew in a breath. "Toshi, I love you. I do, you have to know that. I'm doing this for you. I want the best for you!" She tried begging for him to see that.

Toshinori just looked at her. He didn't say 'I love you' back. He didn't aknowledge what she was trying to say.

Nothing.

"Sure."

"Toshinori we can still be friends."

He shook his head as he sniffed. "Nah, I don't think so." He turned around to leave, stepping to her backdoor, deciding to leave. "See you at the farewell party, Kirishima." He didn't look back when he left. He didn't even aknowledge that he was talking to her.

Toshinori wasn't exactly sure how he got home, nor even if he thought at all. Nothing went through his head as his naturally and systematically moved and stepped to the direction of his house.

Even though it was sunset and the sun was setting, Toshinori didn't care. Since most heroes, retired or currently serving, lived in ProHero neighbourhood estates, he wasn't in any danger. His home was just a few streets away. However, even with the usual thirty minute walk that it takes over to his home.

He didn't remember a second of it.

"Toshinori." He looked up at his father as he leaned back in his recliner, looking away from the news playing on the TV. He smiled. "You're back early."

You were sitting on Izuku's lap, a ball of yarn and crocheting needles in your lap. You looked up to your eldest son. Instantly you noticed something was wrong. His face wasn't glowing as it normally did when he came back home from the Kirishimas. His face didn't have lipstick kisses on his cheeks, or a stupid smile on his face or anything.

He had the exact same face that his father would have on whenever something hurt him too much to express himself.

"Toshi?" You asked softly.

Kane turned around from where he was sitting on the couch to look back at his best friend. His eyebrows furrowed together. "Dude, what happened to your hair?"

A streak of white was in the mess of green curls. You hadn't seen his hair turn white since he first discovered One for All. A little genetic surprise that scared Izuku to hell and back when he realised his kids still inherited a bit of All for One's genes in them too.

Asahi turned to look at his brother. His eyes widened as he took off his glasses to make sure he was seeing normally. Hero leaned forward before smiling. "Nice streak Toshi!" He supported.

"It's not a good thing, idiot." Asahi shoved Hero lightly.

Shoyo tilted his head as he looked at his eldest brother. "Toshi, are you okay?"

Izuku looked at you worried. You put down your needles in your bag and got up towards your son. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Toshinori's expression didn't change, he shrugged. "Satomi broke up with me."

At that, the entire room went dead silent as the mood plummeted. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Broke up with you?? Are you sure? What made her do that?"

Toshinori shrugged again. "Long distance doesn't work for her. She's not willing to do that."

Izuku stood up from his chair as he moved to where you were, he motioned with a hand for the rest of the boys to stay where they are and leave you both with your eldest son alone. He motioned for you and him to follow. You put a hand to the back of Toshinori as you guided him outside to the patio.

Izuku closed the door once you were all outside, as you stood next to Toshinori. His eyes were dazed as he stared forward, not having any particular emotion. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine." Izuku told him as his eyebrows furrowed as he walked to stand in front of his son. He looked genuinely worried for his eldest as you stood next to Toshinori. "Toshinori, you love that girl and she loves you. So what happened? Did anything happen to prompt this from her or..."

Toshinori shrugged.

"Toshinori... my little sprout..." You moved to put a hand to the side of his face, your eyes baring into his own. "I know you love her."

Nothing happened initially as he slowly looked down at you.

Suddenly you saw his face twist into pain, pure agony going through him as he closed his eyes. He covered his mouth trying to fight that pain inside him. He gasped as his body shook in sobs.

"Oh baby," You quickly wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your arms. Izuku came up behind you, pulling the both of you into his large arms. It reminded you so much of the time where Toshinori was but a newborn and he would cry, and the few ways to comfort him was just like this. Although now he was taller than you, you couldn't help but see him now like that.

"I love her so much!" He cried into your shoulder.

You nodded your head. "I know, baby, I know."

"How could she do this to me?" He asked brokenly, not wanting to show his face to the both of you as he buried it in the crook of your neck. He hiccuped. "What did i do wrong!? I did everything right! I treated her how dad treats you!"

You closed your eyes as you tried your best not to shed tears yourself at his own heartbreak. Izuku put a hand to the back of Toshinori's head. "You didn't do anything wrong, Toshi, and this shouldn't affect how you treat woman. It was her choice. And I know it hurts right now, but you'll be grateful for it later."

Toshinori shook his head as he clutched onto you painfully, barely finding air to breathe as his heart shattered into a million pieces.

-Glitch1d

Izuku Midoriya Masterlist

All my exclusive Midoriya content in one place

💚 - Smut is present

🌱- Midoriya Family Shenanigans therefore contains children of Izuku and reader

🥀 - Angst is present

Missed me?: After six months, your villain boyfriend finally makes it back to you

Missed me (alt. ending): What if the reader got shot? - Very angsty with 2 scenerios.

I am Here: Alpha Midoriya comes to your aid protecting you.

A Lighter Day: Where your villanous boyfriend realizes just how bad he is and almost crumbles at the seams. Luckily he has you to keep him together.

Villain Izuku with a reader who has ADHD

His Angel: Villain Izuku with a frormer Yakuza reader

Izuku Midoriya x Reader Week 2022!

Villain Deku accidentally kills his darling.

Izuku with a breeding kink 💚

Villain Izuku falling for you

Adrenaline Lust: Villain Deku and you have just escaped the police and heroes but not without having to drop bodies on the way. But as you try to catch your breath, your darling lover can't get his eyes off of you. 💚

Izuku Headcannons (golden retriever boyfriend): Now Izuku is such a sweetheart. It is one of the very well known things about him. He’s kind and sweet, caring, great with kids… suspiciously like a dog. You didn’t really notice his rather happy-go-lucky instincts until you really watched him.

The Contract: When you broke up with Katsuki, you thought it was the end for you. No marriage. No family. No white picket fence. You had spent so much time on Katsuki and now it all just fell to the wind. But what if a certain green haired hero offered you a contract, offered you the dream life of security and happiness all for the small price of being his wife? Love wasn’t in the plan but maybe it was in the fine print.💚🥀

Love and Villainy: Izuku accidentally falls in love with you, a villain

Well... aren't you a pretty doll? - Masterlist: You accidentally spill your drink on an army soldier and he becomes absolutely smitten with you.

Pregnant feral reader: There's something about being pregnant with his baby that turns you crazy. 💚💚💚

Pregnant feral reader 2.💚💚💚

Best Husband in the world award goes to Midoriya Izuku💚🌱

Say hi to Kacchan: Katsuki calls you while you and Izuku are busy having sex. It does not end well for him. 💚

What's the answer?: Izuku edges you until you get the answer right💚

It's been a long day: Izuku has had a long day and he blows up at you by accident.🥀

"FUCK YOU!": Izuku is sick and tired of Katsuki always berating him

Mister Tree: You come home drunk after a fun time with friends and your husband takes care of you. However, you make it pretty hard to do so by calling him a tree.

Oh my God! HE'S MOVING!: You and your husband feel your son move in your tummy for the first time.

Let's go Home: Your Yandere! Husband comes to take you back home.

DILF IZUKU CORNER:

Angry Dilf Izuku: Your husband doesn’t take lightly to people staring at your ass, especially if it’s Bakugou Katsuki.💚🌱

The Girl: You and your husband have only ever had boys... until you didn't. 🌱

Angry Dilf Izuku Pt2: It’s your birthday and your husband makes it loud and clear that Katsuki isn’t welcomed here anymore.🌱

Cheating Dilf Izuku: After the loss of one of your sons, you couldn't dream that your once loving husband would ever cheat on you.🌱🥀

Don't worry Mommy: You are about to embark on your first outing since giving birth and you can't help but think you should just stay at home. But Izuku assures you that everything is going to be fine.🌱

Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist🌱🥀

I want a little brother!: Your fourth son, Shoyo, wants a little brother and now your husband won't stop asking you.🌱🥀

I'm so blessed: Izuku and you wake up from a nap, and Izuku realises how blessed he is to have his wife and son here with him.🌱

You should definitely talk to my wife: Another mom tries to hit on your husband🌱

Our type of marriage: Your boys have always wondered why you and Izuku had such different roles in the home, so you decide to try and explain it🌱

You're really selfish: Reader dies and Toshinori is left to carry the peices because Izuku can't will himself to do anything now that you're gone.🌱🥀

How would Normal Dilf Izuku act after the death of his son?🌱🥀

Izuku and lactation kink: You've had a bad day and you feel so full. Luckily Izuku is here to make you feel all better.💚

How does DILF Izuku treat Ochaco in the normal Dilf AU?

Anger and Misunderstandings Pt 1 of 2: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki.🌱🥀

Anger and Misunderstandings Pt 2 of 2🌱🥀

Happy Birthday Kane: Bakugou’s son, Kane never really knew what home felt like in a long time, but he finds it it in a place right in front of him.🌱

How would DILF Izuku react when something goes wrong when reader is in labour?🥀

A Hard Time: You are having a difficult pregnancy.🥀

Midoriya Family Shenanigans:

Your mom is lowkey hot: Your eldest son moves into the dorms and his friends find you to be a milf.🌱

The eyes never lie: Your eldest son isn't exactly sure who he should ask out.🌱

Itchy Sweaters: You try to sit the boys down for a Christmas photo🌱

Mom!: As a mother, you lack privacy.🌱

Marshmallows: You can't reach the top shelf of the marshmallows well pregnant, and you think its a great time to jump Izuku.🌱

Baking Mayhem 1: You come downstairs from a nap to find that all hell has broken loose in your kitchen🌱

MY EYES!! : Your eldest son walks into your room at the wrong time.💚🌱

Go wash the dishes!: You drag Asahi by his ears to go wash the dishes🌱

Toshinori winning the sports festival🌱

Midoriya family online shenanigans🌱

Shut up, Mom! : Toshinori manages to convince you to pull a prank on his father, and it does NOT go well. 💚🌱

When you were younger: The boys see pictures from when you were younger

... Totally worth it. : Your eldest son is being hunted down by his girlfriends father (Eijiro)🌱

hiii i'd like to request a jealousy smut oneshot with shuichi

im just thinking abt him being all jealous and clingy and taking us to his room to do something about it,, im not sure how you characterize him but i like unexpected moments of confidence for him, sue me

gn reader preferably!! thank you ^_^

show me

Pairing(s): shuichi saihara x gn!reader

CW: nsfw, jealousy, gn!reader, teasing, anal, switch shuichi, switch reader, blowjob, handjob, marking, slight bruising, very descriptive making out, cum swallowing, palming, shuichi is a little bit ooc but not too much, kokichi being a little shit

A/N: ugh I hate school sm bro and OH MY GOD ILY FOR BEING SPECIFIC WITH YOUR REQUEST

“And that’s why we shouldn’t normalize blowing up snails we randomly find in our garage! D.I.C.E doesn’t need to waste their explosives on snails!” Kokichi exclaimed, causing you to just stare at him with a blank expression.

You shook your head quickly, snapping you back into the conversation with Kokichi. He frowned and looked at you, his small figure hunched over and drooped down to match his whiny expression. “Y/N! Were you even listening?” He asked sourly, causing you to meet his gaze. He leaned onto you in a childish manner, pressing his head against your chest and his arms around you. You didn’t react much to him, and kept your hands in your pockets, staring back into space and getting lost in thought.

It took a minute for you to notice the little gremlin clinging onto you. “Ah…sorry…” you replied dryly, not really caring much about Kokichi at the moment. Your mind was focused on your boyfriend, Shuichi, instead.

You were getting ready to head to his room until you heard a familiar “huh?” In the distance. Your head turned in the direction of your boyfriend’s voice, seeing him with his eyes wide but his eyelids drooped low. Kokichi noticed the detective’s evident feelings faster than you did, and he hugged you tighter as he pressed his head further against your chest, smirking at Shuichi slyly.

Oh. Shuichi was jealous. How cute.

You rested your hand on Kokichi’s purple locks, pushing him away with enough force to get him off, but not too much to the point where it would hurt him. “Kokichi. Don’t.” You asserted in a stern and annoyed tone. He simply laughed and backed up playfully with his hands up in a silly manner. “Woah okay! Calm down Y/N I was just teasing nishihi~!” He looked towards Shuichi with a smirk. “Your partner is really something aren’t they?” He called out while laughing. Before Shuichi could open his mouth to retort something back, Kokichi’s small frame sprinted back to his dorm room. You swear you heard him laughing all the way back.

You heaved out a sigh as you made your way towards Shuichi, who was just staring at the ground with his brows furrowed ever so slightly. He doesn’t ever look like this unless he’s investigating something. A smile creeped up onto your lips as you enveloped your arms around his torso and rested your chin onto his shoulder, causing him to perk up and blush a little.

“What’s the matter, Shu? Feeling jealous~?” You asked teasingly. “A-ah…sorry. It’s nothing.” Shuichi replied, his voice slightly irritated and raspy.

Shuichi had always been- not very initiating. He usually got flustered from the smallest things, was too polite even in your relationship, and always asked for the simplest things which he didn’t need to ask for, like kissing you.

Which is why you felt a sudden shock course through you when you felt his fingers tighten slightly around your wrist and pull you along with him. He was trying to seem calm, but his heavy lidded eyes and creased eyebrows said otherwise. Before you knew it, you were in his dorm room, back pressed firmly against the mattress as Shuichi towered over you with his hands resting against your shoulders. He gazed down at you, hungry and lust filled as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his warm breath hitch against your cheek as Shuichi unbuttoned his shirt, letting it hang off of his shoulders.

“You’re mine.” He whispered into your ear. His tone was possessive, yet amiable. Suddenly, he perked up for a moment, blushing intensely as he gave you a bit of space. “M-my apologies.” He said firmly, clearly trying to process what he just said.

You let out a chuckle as you snaked your arms underneath his shoulders, and wrapped onto his back as you gripped onto his pale skin firmly.

“Shu, really? Don’t even apologize and just keep fucking going.” You said in a slightly demanding voice. Shuichi glanced back down at you, blushing profusely as he scooted back to his original position above you. You could sense he was definitely nervous, he’d never been this bold before and it was clearly confusing and embarrassing for him.

A smile crept its way up your lips as you trailed your hands down his thin body. Your longing gaze went to his lips, the way his bottom lip quivered from your proximity made you lose your mind- it was too cute. You pushed your head upwards and angled your chin slightly as you quickly swiped your tongue over his bottom lip, eliciting a slight whimper from Shuichi’s throat. You smirked at seeing his eyes squeezed shut, and took this opportunity to lean back into him; only this time, your lips were pressed up against his now.

Shuichi’s eyes widened as his palms, which were now covered in sweat, rested onto your shoulders as he kissed you back passionately. Both of your tongues made their way into each other’s mouths, making the kiss more heated as your tongues fought for control over the other. A strained moan left your lips as Shuichi’s tongue wrapped around yours, and his hands wandered down your body.

“Ah- fuck..” you whined quietly as Shuichi’s arms wrapped around your waist and leaned down, pulling you closer into him while resting his free hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. His eyelids raised up slightly, allowing his golden eyes to bore into yours while kissing you as his fingers ran through the back of your slightly messy hair. Your arms only made their way further up Shuichi’s torso, under his shirt, until you were gripping onto his back and tilting your head further up to meet his already deep kiss.

You only slightly pulled away for a brief moment, only your tongues were touching outside your lips now. This gave you the opportunity to drag his bottom lip in between your teeth as you dived back into the kiss, tugging his bottom lip out occasionally. Shuichi now shamelessly let out a string of low moans into the kiss, his sweet voice vibrated against your lips while his hands wrapped further around your waist to gently cup your rear.

“Please…tell me if this is uncomfortable for you..” he drawled tiredly. You smiled and rested your forehead against his, allowing yourself to press his lips against his ear and whisper.

“You could never make me uncomfortable, Shuichi. Do what you want with me right now, show me how bad you want me to be yours.”

Shuichi’s eyes widened, he swallowed nervously and nodded, taking his position back above you, and towered over you as his hands trailed back up to your clothed sex. His palm pressed onto it roughly, earning a needy groan from you. Without hesitation, you made your way to Shuichi’s pants, yanking them off roughly. You gestured for him to toss them to the corner of the dorm room, which he did, albeit in an embarrassed manner.

Suddenly, you rested your hands onto Shuichi’s shoulders and swung your shoulders to the left, switching your position with him in one swift motion. Without hesitation, your fingers were practically anchored into the supple flesh of his inner thighs. You lapped at his neck hungrily as your fingers wrapped around his length, causing him to choke back a desperate moan. You sucked the pale skin of his neck as you threw off his shirt as well, leaving dark marks along his collarbone and above the creases of his neck. Shuichi took his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to silence his pleasured noises as you stroked him and kissed his body, but it was no use. He was already loud enough.

Your wet kisses made their way all the way down to his abdomen, licking it a few times, before going lower and lower ever so slightly. Shuichi shivered as he felt the corners of your lips creeep up into a smile against his lower abdomen, more noises continued making their way out of his throat. You finally pressed a kiss to his rosy tip, and wrapped your lips around his cock. Your tongue wrapped around him as it worked along his length, your head bobbing up and down to coat his entire shaft in saliva. Shuichi threw his head back and slammed his hand over his mouth, his muffled moans rang in your ears as you continued sucking him off lazily, yet passionately.

You felt his dick make its way down your throat, causing you to groan against him, which made the Shuichi feel even more pleasure from the vibrations of your voice causing shocks to course through his dick. At that moment, he couldn’t take it any longer. “Y/N…Please-! I can’t take any mor- ah-!” Thick shots of his warm liquid released in your mouth, the taste of the warm liquid made you smile against his cock, making him jerk slightly. You swallowed every drop before pulling away from his length, making sure to lick any remaining cum smeared on his tip.

Shuichi panted heavily, begging you to give him a moment as his palm pressed against his forehead gripped his hair tightly, still recovering from his orgasm.

After a few moments, he suddenly took back his original dominant position above you, towering over you like was not too long ago. He dipped back into a heated kiss as he tugged your underwear down and pressed himself against you, his length slightly sandwiched between your cheeks.

“Lie on your stomach.” He commanded, his expression filled with lust as you noticed that his cock was once again hard. You followed his order and flipped over onto your stomach, using your forearms and elbows to elevate yourself slightly. Shuichi paused for a moment, before bowing his head beside your neck, so that his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Can I…please?” He pleaded, planting his palms onto either side of your bare hips. You rolled your eyes with a smirk and nodded, barely getting onto your knees as well to arch your ass up slightly for him.

Shuichi was now a blushing mess once again, a few beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he stuttered out his words once again. “S-so should I use a condom or-? Maybe you want to do it raw- I don’t know! I’m sorr-“ you growled under your breath and cut him off by taking his chin in between your thumb and index finger.

“I don’t care what you do Shuichi, just fuck me already.”

His mouth hung open, both from being in disbelief and arousal. He nodded shyly as his fingers dug into your plush hips, allowing him to push himself into your puckered hole in one go. You almost screamed, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes slightly. You felt a sting around your hole, but it was quickly overcome by pleasure when he began sliding himself in and out of you. Your melodic voice mixed with the lewd squelching of your hole, and Shuichi’s strained groans resonated throughout the dorm room. Shuichi gasped as your hole clenched around his cock, the way you covered every bit of his length, and the way he filled you up- they were mutual feelings.

He lazily trailed a long line of kisses, ranging from your collarbone all the way above your ass, occasionally sucking and marking you when he could. His tongue pressed back against your shoulder as he gripped your waist tighter and increased the speed of his thrusts inside you, and you gripped onto the sheets so tightly you feared that you would rip them at this point.

It didn’t take long before you both climaxed, your bodies were coated in a thin layer of sweat and you both stayed in that position for a few seconds, panting heavily as Shuichi came inside you, and you released your liquids almost immediately after feeling his seed inside your hole. He pulled out almost instantly, making you whimper slightly and crane your neck to press a strangely chaste kiss to his cheek. He settled himself beside you as he threw a blanket over you both, snuggling himself against your chest. His breathing evened out slightly, and his lips curved upwards into a satisfied smile.

“So…I guess you’re reassured enough to not be jealous anymore~? My precious, Shu~?” You breathed out softly.

He only gave a small nod in response as you gazed down at his relieved face dreamily. He held onto you tightly as he parted his lips slightly to say something.

“You’re the best lover I could ever ask for. Please, don’t ever leave me.” He whispered against you tiredly before drifting off to sleep. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you kissed his forehead quickly before retracting back and smiling down at him, your head resting against your hand, which was elevating your side with your elbow.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Kokichi sees these marks tomorrow, so he knows I’m yours.” you remarked playfully.

A/N: i fucking hate long textbook reading and notes smh

boutta post this at 2 am- thank god it’s a Saturday or else I’d be dead by now lmfao

hope you enjoyed this one anon, I was hella tired while writing so don’t mind typos, lazy writing etc. I’m sorry 😭

𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒙𝟑 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

ao3 | writing tag | active wips | ideas tag

𝒃𝒏𝒉𝒂

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

TODOROKI SHOUTO

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

SHINSOU HITOSHI

MIDORIYA IZUKU

TAKAMI KEIGO (HAWKS)

TODOROKI TOUYA (DABI)

KAMINARI DENKI

SERO HANTA

𝒋𝒋𝒌

COMING SOON 👀

Expiation - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to A03)

This is a birthday gift for @sophsiaaa based on a suggestion of a fantasy AU Shigaraki x reader. Happy birthday (although it's definitely a bit late)!

You hear the rumors long before you see him, but the story of his arrival is told to you so many times that it’s etched into your head. It was a beautiful spring day, the fields surrounding the castle bright with wildflowers, the air humming with butterflies and bees – the kind of day on which nothing bad is allowed to happen. And then the world went still. The sun seemed to dim. The air fell silent, empty of insects and birds, and even the flowers cringed away as he led his horse past, walking so slowly that it seemed he knew his presence poisoned the world, and reveled in it. The dark knight, the one they call the White Death. Shigaraki Tomura.

The rumors are terrible, and most of them are true, but no one finds the High Kingdom unless they were meant to be here. You remember the day you stumbled out of the Forest Perilous, last of a party of dozens who had all set out together, the only one to reach the castle. The castle chose you, the same as it chose everyone born outside the walls who now resides within. The same is true of Shigaraki Tomura – Sir Tomura, or Lord Tomura, anything but the dread title he’s earned on the battlefield. There is some purpose to his presence here, although neither you nor anyone else can imagine what it is.

Most knights come to the High Kingdom with squires and servants, hauling supplies and gifts and finery to please the king. The White Death comes alone, and bears no gift – no gift other than the one he’s rumored to have tossed at King Izuku’s feet. That rumor is terrible, too. But it it’s true, it means that Shigaraki Tomura crossed a line no one else had dared to touch – in taking on the King’s fated enemy, the man prophesied to destroy the High Kingdom, and slaying him himself. Tearing down his armies himself. Singlehandedly wrecking a prophecy that has hung over the Kingdom’s head since it was first spoken, a prophecy of death and destruction that would bring a mighty kingdom to its knees.

And you suppose it did. After all, the prophecy, never said it would be your kingdom that fell.

King Izuku offers Shigaraki Tomura a seat on his council, over the objections of the rest of the council. Shigaraki Tomura accepts. And then the question turns to where he should be house, and what level of opulence is appropriate for his room, and because the gods hate you or because you’re just unlucky, you’re assigned from all the servants to help him decorate it. To create a dwelling space fit for a hero, meant to house someone who cannot be called anything but a villain.

You knock hesitantly at the door, struggling to balance the heavy wooden chest you’re carrying at the same time. When that fails to produce a response, you call out, your voice thin as it echoes through the deserted wing of the palace. “Lord Tomura?”

The door unlocks with a sharp click, then swings open, and you suck in a breath. You heard he had magic – most in the High Kingdom do, you included – but it’s considered crass to flaunt it for things that could otherwise be done by hand. You step through the door into a large, empty room. The only features in it are a window without a single pane of glass, an armoire with doors gaping open, and a canopy bed bare of both canopy and sheets. The infamous white armor is piled in the corner of the room, along with the white sword his enemies call Decay. The White Death himself sits on the edge of the bed.

He doesn’t look away from the spot on the wall where he’s fixed his eyes. “What do you want?”

“My Lord.” You bow, or curtsy, or do some awkward mix of both at once. It doesn’t matter. He’s not looking at you. “I was sent to help you put your room in order.”

“This is fine.” Shigaraki Tomura’s voice is flat and icy, devoid of anything but apathy. “The window is a nice touch.”

You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. You would be, if you were a knight and not a maid. “The window will be fixed, my Lord. In the meantime, I was sent to arrange the rest of your room. I’ve brought many things for you to choose from.”

“Many things.” He looks up at last, and you catch your breath at the sight of his crimson eyes. It’s all too easy to imagine his enemies freezing in terror, those eyes the last thing they saw before the darkness closed in. “That chest is too small for many things.”

“It’s larger on the inside,” you say. He raises an eyebrow – or he would, if he had them. “Do I have your leave to show you?”

“If it’s the case that you won’t leave me be until you do.” The White Death looks away, and you come a few steps closer. A few steps, and then a few more, until you can set the chest down within his eyeline and kneel down to open it. “What is that?”

“No one could tell me what you preferred, so I brought some of everything.” You were hoping to avoid being berated. You’re starting to think that’s unlikely. “There are sheets for the bed – and choices for the canopy, also. These are for the walls – most knights have tapestries made of your great deeds, but you’ve only just arrived. They won’t be ready for a little while.”

“Great deeds,” Shigaraki – Sir Tomura – sneers. Your ears burn. “Yes, I’m sure the weavers are lining up to chronicle mine.”

“If you say so, my Lord.” You lift out a set of curtains – curtains, for a broken window. Whoever left this for you to deal with, you hope they catch the plague. “Er, the window –”

“I didn’t say so,” Sir Tomura interrupts. You look up at him. “I have done no great deeds. It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet.”

“Pardon me, my Lord. I never said it was.”

You shouldn’t have spoken. You bow your head hastily, but not before you see a flash of interest in the White Death’s eyes. “A punishment, then. Tell me, who did you displease?”

“Nor did I say it was a punishment.” You’ve already gotten yourself in trouble. You may as well explain. “It is my duty to serve the nobles of the High Kingdom. You are one of them. And you’ve done the kingdom a great service.”

“I didn’t do it for you. Or for your wretched kingdom.” Sir Tomura is looking at you, still. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your shoulders, the exposed curve of your neck. “I might have destroyed your kingdom just as easily.”

You know that. It’s why everyone fears him, why a man with a lean, slender build casts such a long shadow. “Then why did you choose his?”

“You both wronged me. He wronged me worse.” Sir Tomura goes silent for a moment, and you dare a glance up at him. His face is still, the sneer long-gone. “And because you wronged me, too, you must suffer my presence. In honor of the great deed I have done.”

Now he sounds bitter, mocking – but not of you. He’s looking at you again. “And what terrible deed have you done, that you do not fear to raise your eyes to me?”

“Is that a requirement for meeting your eyes, my Lord?” It strikes you as an odd thing to say, when any other knight would remark on your temerity at gazing upon any noble’s face. “I did not come here to pass judgment on your deeds. I came to make your room a fitting place for a person to live.”

“Indeed,” Sir Tomura says. “But unlike the five maids who preceded you, you have not fled from the sight of me. Why?”

You would answer him if you knew, but you don’t. The rumors of him terrified you, the same as everyone else. You were frightened as you knocked at the door, frightened when you stepped into the room, and even though he’s weaponless, you have no doubt that he knows dozens of spells that will kill you where you stand. There is no doubt that the man in front of you is the White Death, the terror of battlefields across the known world, the ruination of a kingdom most thought would stand forever and the slayer of a king most thought could not be killed and the destruction of a prophecy that went unchallenged for a hundred years. You should be terrified, just as you were before, and you’re certainly wary. But you aren’t frightened any longer.

The White Death is waiting for an answer. “If I had an answer, I would give it, my Lord,” you say. You look away and begin to unpack from the chest. “Does my Lord have a preference as to colors?”

“No.” Sir Tomura’s voice carries an odd rasp, whether he’s scornful or not. “Do what you want.”

So he’ll allow you to complete your task. You wonder if the five maids who apparently preceded you tried to hold a conversation, or if they simply ran away the instant he opened the door. Some part of you wants to decorate his room in bright colors, something cheerful, but you don’t have the sense that he’ll appreciate it. You’d be better off giving him something to look at, since he spends so long staring off into space. You choose fabrics in muted colors, woven with small illusions here and there, patterns that move and change in response to the human eye. It’s likely that Sir Tomura will spend a lot of time here. He doesn’t seem to like people very much. His room should at least be a pleasant place to be.

When you’ve covered key portions of the walls, leaving space for the inevitable tapestries, you move on to laying out rugs. The stone floors in the castle are cool in the summer, cold in the winter, and Sir Tomura’s feet are bare, his boots kicked into the same pile as his sword and armor. You don’t have as many choices with the rugs. They are nothing but bright colors, woven together from scraps of fabric, and you lay them out hastily, hoping he continues to prefer staring at walls to staring at floors. Then you turn your attention to the armor. It needs to be stored properly, and there isn’t a stand in the room.

You turn to face Sir Tomura and find that he’s already watching you. “If you give me leave, my Lord, I’ll retrieve a stand for your armor.”

“It can stay where it is.”

Most knights pride themselves on their armor. Most pride themselves too much. “Won’t it rust?”

“Until it crumbles away. I don’t care.”

You don’t understand. “Sir –”

“It’s no use to me any longer.” Sir Tomura rises from the bed for the first time and crosses the room, moving with catlike grace. He lifts the breastplate from the pile one-handed and holds it out for you to inspect. You can’t miss the problem – it’s been cleaved almost in two by a single strike, torn apart as only cursed steel can do. “It can’t be fixed.”

“The best smiths in the world work here,” you venture. Sir Tomura scoffs. “They reforged One For All, and that sword was broken into nine pieces.”

“Yes, we’ve all heard the story. Good King Izuku gathered the nine pieces of One For All and proved he was the rightful king.” The disdain in the White Death’s voice is withering. “The rightful king, but not a good one. The king before him was worthless, and the queen before him, too – they let their greatest enemy grow and prosper, throughout their entire reigns.”

“They fought back,” you protest. “Queen Nana was killed fighting him – King Toshinori was badly wounded –”

“And King Izuku never tried,” Sir Tomura sneers. “In spite of their goodness, they turned away. They were too good to do what had to be done, so it fell to me to slay the monster and tear down his throne.”

Sir Tomura wasn’t mentioned in the prophecy. Why would it fall to him? “And look what I’ve done,” he continues. A harsh laugh tears free from his throat. “Spared a kingdom of cowards and fools from destruction they deserve only slightly less.”

The questions bursts out of you. “If you despise us so much, why did you come here?”

“This kingdom owes me a debt,” Sir Tomura says. “I have nowhere else to go.”

You have nothing to say in response to that. You expect Sir Tomura to look pleased at silencing you, but he doesn’t. “Receive a stand for my armor if you wish it,” he says, and you depart, feeling sick to your stomach.

The White Death’s words cling to you as you search for a spare armor stand. What had to be done. What could he mean by that? What would the White Death do that the good kings and queens of your kingdom wouldn’t try? The answer occurs to you at once. Dark magic. Magic that corrupts the mind and soul, magic that leaves cursed wounds and blighted lands in its wake. Of course the kings and queens of the High Kingdom would never do such a thing. But if that was what it would take to end the Enemy’s reign of terror, then maybe –

It’s not your place to decide such things. You find a spare stand in the armory and cart it back to the deserted wing of the palace, only to be accosted on the way by the tailor Hakamada. “You’re attending him? Good. These are for the feast tonight.”

He thrusts a package into your arms, even though your hands are already full. “Ensure he wears them. His presence is an affront, but he’ll be properly dressed if it’s the last thing I do.”

Given that Hakamada isn’t the one forcing the new clothes on Sir Tomura, it’s more likely to be the last thing you do. You set off again, struggling under the weight of both the package and the stand at once.

Sir Tomura seems surprised that you’ve returned, but he doesn’t mock you over it – yet. He allows you to set up the stand, and to begin to store his armor properly, although he refuses to allow you anywhere near the sword. “It’s cursed,” he says, even though you didn’t ask. “Once it tastes a victim’s blood, that person is doomed to wither and rot. Did you know that?”

“I heard rumors,” you say carefully. “There are many rumors about you.”

“They aren’t rumors if they’re true,” Sir Tomura says. “Almost all of them are.”

It doesn’t surprise you that the White Death knows his own legends. “Which ones aren’t?”

Sir Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s investigating the package from Hakamada, which you set down on the end of the still-unmade bed. You, meanwhile, find yourself transfixed by the tear in the breastplate of his armor. It’s been split nearly in half. You lean closer, paper and fabric rustling behind you, in order to peer at the edges of the breastplate, the padding inside, and a needle of shock and fear drives itself through you. All of it is stained with blood. “My Lord –”

You turn to find yourself facing Sir Tomura half-dressed, in clean breeches and bare feet, having just removed his shirt. His bare skin is laced with scars, some old and some newer, but none so terrible as the enormous wound in his chest, so fresh it can barely be called healed. It matches the tear in the breastplate exactly. Sir Tomura glances at the breastplate, then at you. Then he turns away.

“My Lord,” you start, “if you need a healer –”

“It’s a cursed wound,” Sir Tomura says. “It will never heal.”

That was in the prophecy, too – something about a blow from which the victor will never recover. You know it’s half the reason King Izuku held off. He has no heir, nor an obvious successor among his advisors, and everyone assumed the blow described in the prophecy would be fatal. You mind feels frozen, caught between horror and sadness and trapped in confusion. If what everyone says is true, and it is, Shigaraki Tomura is a monster. If what everyone says is true, and it is, King Izuku is a good king. If both of those things are true, then why did the monster fulfill the prophecy? Why has the good king offered him so meager a welcome? You don’t know what to do with the White Death, who saved your kingdom, whose infamous fury has yet to make an appearance since he arrived at the castle.  Neither does anyone else.

Sir Tomura is fumbling with his new shirt, cursing. You abandon the armor and come forward. “May I help, my Lord?”

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t refuse, and you take the risk of helping anyway, straightening the useless ruffles, doing up the pearl buttons, staying well clear of the terrible wound. “It takes a monster to slay a monster,” the White Death says, as you smooth out the lines of his shirt. “And now you all must live with the monster that survived.”

He looks down at you, the ghost of the sneer from before distorting his features. “Is that pity I see on your face? Save your pity. It’s useless to me.”

“I don’t pity you,” you say. You can’t – not when he’s done such terrible things, not when you can’t begin to calculate whether what he did in fulfilling the prophecy cancels any of them out. But you do feel something. You can be honest about that. “I was thinking that it was a brave thing to do, my Lord. To face the Enemy when you weren’t the chosen one, and knowing that the consequences were severe even if you should win. That is all.”

A hint of surprise crosses Shigaraki Tomura’s face. “Do the words monster and villain mean nothing to you?”

“They do,” you say. “But I have never seen it written that a monster cannot be brave. Or that a villain must always be a villain.”

The White Death scoffs. “Are you waiting for me to become a true knight?”

“Only as long as you would wait for me to become a fair lady,” you say. “That is to say, a very long time.”

“A long time to become a lady, perhaps.” Sir Tomura extends one hand towards you, slowly, as though he’s expecting you to flinch or bolt. “You were fair before you knelt at my feet.”

You’re not sure what he means to do with his hand, but you reach out and capture it anyway. There’s only one thing you can think of to do, and you do it – bow low over it to kiss his knuckles, just as you’ve seen lords do for their ladies a thousand times. And you speak, words you’re certain no one has uttered since he arrived. “Thank you for what you did. Even if it was not done for us,” you say. “And thank you, too, for saying I was fair. You did not need to say that.”

“I didn’t lie.” Sir Tomura has yet to take his hand back. You don’t know what to do but keep holding it. “It seems that you are in my debt now.”

Just like that, you’re nervous again. You know what knights often ask, or demand, from the women who cross their paths. “How shall I repay it?”

“This feast,” the White Death says. You look up, startled. “You will accompany me.”

“My Lord –”

“Since I have arrived here, no one has met my eyes, nor spoken to me as you have.” He’s averting his eyes from yours now. “I would like to spend one evening in the company of someone who does not find my company torturous.”

“I would, my Lord, but it is simply not done.” You’re surprised at how upsetting it is to be unable to grant such a simple wish. You let go of his hand and drop into a curtsy, replacing the distance that should exist between you, rather than the odd intimacy of the last few moments. “No true knight would bring a servant as his companion to a royal feast.”

“I see,” Sir Tomura says. His hand slips beneath your chin, tilting your face upwards, and you see that same flash of interest in his red eyes. This time it has staying power, as his callused hand molds to the shape of your jaw and his lips curve into the first smile you’ve seen from him. “It’s fortunate, then, that I am no true knight.”

─── Sanctuary // B. Katsuki

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader — Word count: 30k

Content warnings: coworkers -> lovers, eventual smut, all chapters will have their own warnings, commissioned series

Summary: Surely there can be no consequences falling in love with your explosive boss, right? A series following the trials and tribulations of falling in love (deeper, deeper, deeper) with The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight (but with you, it’s Katsuki, always Katsuki).

Chapter one: In the early morning, my yearning soul laid bare

Chapter two: No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her

Chapter three: I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

Chapter four: You’re my sanctuary

───

Bonus chapter: Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

When Bakugo notices the new flag girl Mina recruits, he's interested. His objective changes when he learns the prize for winning the race. Hopefully, he drives away with the money and the hot flag girl next to him...

At the starting line, Bakugo sat poised behind the wheel of his sleek, customized racer, his eyes fixed on the flag girl standing just a few feet ahead. You wore a vibrant blue crop top and a miniskirt to match. It's too tight, Bakugo thinks but enjoys the view nonetheless. You looked tempting, the red flag in your hand ready to unleash the roaring beasts lined up behind you. Kirishima rolls down his window, catching the blonde's attention. Bakugo turned his head to the right. "Pretty, isn't she? She's new." Katsuki hummed in agreement. You really were a sight to behold. Sero suddenly spoke up. "Let's make a bet, between the three of us. Winner gets to take her out. Or are you guys too scared I'll beat ya to it?" Bakugo scoffed. They had nothing on him. He was the star of the show, his car was second to none. Who was tapehands to tell him what to do? He could beat those extras with his eyes closed.

Neon signs bled into the slick asphalt, blurring as Bakugo scanned the starting line. Headlights cut through the night like hungry eyes, illuminating the customized beasts straining at the bit. Deku's souped-up Toyota, a sleeper in disguise, sat innocent-looking next to Todoroki's sleek, ice-themed Subaru. Even Sero's Nissan Silvia seemed hungry for the win. "Bet." he smirked, rolling up his windows. His eyes snapped back to the front. He wondered what your name was. Mina sure knew good people to recruit.

A wry smile played on your lips. You raised the flag, parting your glossy pink lips to signal the racers.

"Ready?" He knew the city like the back of his hand, every hidden pothole, every blind curve.

Even though you were a newbie, damn you knew how to control the crowd. They were screeching your name, chanting it continuously and Bakugo struggled to make it out between all the screams. "Set." You grinned, placing a hand on your waist as the engines of the cars roared to life, loud and energetic. Gosh, you lived for the adrenaline. The crowd was silent, awaiting your signal so that the racers could just go already. Your vibrant outfit practically glowed under the harsh streetlights, hugging every curve. You winked at Bakugo, a sly smile playing on your lips. He scoffed internally. Trying to distract him, were you? Not a chance.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation, their bets already placed. A million yen on Bakugo, whispers claimed. You leaned closer to the microphone, your voice amplified across the silent street. "Gentlemen," you purred, your words dripping with a thrill, "tonight, we race for glory, for bragging rights, and…" you paused, letting the tension build, "for a night out with yours truly, and a hefty sum of cash!"

The other racers revved their engines impatiently, their eyes hungry. Now this was a prize to die for. You snickered and dropped the flag swiftly. "Go!" All of the cars sped off, dusting the black Nissan 350Z that stayed there. Its engine purred slightly. You were confused. He had to be messing with you. Did he not see the flag drop? You groaned and with a sigh that might've been more theatrical than necessary, you raised the flag, ready to signal the start again.

A throaty roar shattered the air. Then, with a suddenness that caught you off guard, Bakugo's car rolled forward slowly. His window slid down smoothly, revealing a pair of ruby eyes that raked down your body as he gave you a wink. Your face heated up. He looked so attractive. Bakugo passed you a piece of paper. "What's yer name?" he asked, voice husky.

You whispered it to him, as you leaned on his door, purposefully smushing your chest together to get a rise out of him. He, however, maintained eye contact and then plastered a cocky grin on his face. "Bakugo Katsuki. I'll be the one winnin' this race tonight."

You scoffed and pushed off of his car, leaving behind the scent of your vanilla perfume to haunt his senses. As if. He was already way too far behind.

His car shot forward, surging past the starting line as if the previous seconds hadn't even happened. The crowd roared, initial confusion quickly swallowed by the spectacle of the race.

You opened the paper to read it. Scrawled across the page in his messy handwriting was a single line and a string of numbers: "Winner deserves a prize, yea?"

You looked at the cameras. Bakugo raced like a man possessed. Every corner drift was a smooth display of aggression, every straightaway a blur of crimson fury. The other racers were no slouches, but they were simply outmatched by this carmine-eyed blonde.

She watched as Deku, ever the strategist, used the initial chaos to his advantage, weaving through the pack and closing the gap on Bakugo's tail. Todoroki followed closely behind, his car being pushed to the max already.

Sero, ever the underdog, wasn't giving up either. He was strategically sticking close to Todoroki, perhaps hoping to use his quirk – a giant spool of industrial tape – to his advantage later on.

The race unfolded like a high-octane ballet on asphalt. Headlights sliced through the night, engines screamed their defiance, and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. You watched, heart pounding with the rhythm of the race, as Bakugo pushed his car to its limits, taking calculated risks through back alleys you knew well.

Deku, however, wasn't far behind. It seemed like he didn't know the route and desperately tried to keep behind Bakugo, in a lousy attempt to perhaps catch the finish line.

"Fucker doesn't know what he's doin." Bakugo snickered as he activated his nitro, a little something that he hoped would catch your attention.

As the finish line neared, your grip tightened on the checkered flag, a knot of anticipation twisting in your gut. You found yourself rooting for him, fingers crossed in hope. He had made quite the impression on you.

With a triumphant roar, Bakugo crossed the line, his car smoking slightly from the aggressive maneuvers. You waved your flag again, shouting into the microphone, "We have a winner, Katsuki Bakugo! Four minutes and 12 seconds!"

The other cars took a few moments to file in, Sero having come last seeing as Bakugo had braced his car to a wall, causing him to pull behind.

Mina and Jiro called you up to hand off the prize to tonights winner. They assured you that it would be fine.

"Bakugo might be an egocentric ass but he's not a misogynist." Jiro waved you goodbye as she ran up to Denki and pulled him in for a kiss.

Bakugo sauntered over. He towered over you, looking even more imposing after the adrenaline rush of the race. You couldn't help but admire his confidence, even if it bordered on arrogance. There was a huge crowd of people surrounding you, shouting Bakugo's name and asking for an autograph.

"Here ya go," Mina said, shoving a hefty duffel bag of cash into Bakugo's arms. "Winner's spoils."

"Thought I was promised more." he rasped, looking over to you. Jiro came back, handing you a two-tier coloumn trophy and she whipped out a camera.

You stood next to Bakugo as he wrapped a muscular arm around your waist. Tiptoeing, you placed a manicured hand under his chin and planted a sticky kiss on his cheek, your lipgloss smudgeing on his face and leaving a shiny print. The crowd went wild, many phone flashes going off as they took pictures and recorded videos.

Jiro probably took over a hundred photos, the last one was you and him gazing into each others eyes with smiles on your faces.

Suddenly, the blaring of sirens echoed through the streets.

Panic surged through you, a cold dread replacing the exhilaration of the race's finish. The sirens grew louder, drawing closer, and the celebratory shouts of the crowd died down, replaced by nervous murmurs.

Bakugo, momentarily stunned by your kiss, finally reacted to the sirens. He ripped his gaze from yours and scanned the street, his eyes narrowing.

"Stupid fuckin cops," he muttered, the words laced with annoyance.

Of course. You should have known illegal street racing wouldn't go unnoticed forever. Now, everyone – the racers, the spectators, even you – were in trouble.

Mina, ever resourceful, grabbed the microphone you'd been using. "Scatter!" she shouted, her voice amplified. "Everyone go, before they get here!"

The crowd erupted in a flurry of movement. People scrambled to disappear into the maze of back alleys that surrounded the makeshift racetrack. Racers jumped into their cars, tires squealing as they peeled away into the night.

You froze for a moment, unsure what to do. Bakugo, however, seemed to have a plan. He grabbed your arm, his grip surprisingly strong, and pulled you towards his car.

"Get in," he barked, putting you into the passenger seat, throwing the money and trophy at your feet. He hopped in and mashed the accelarator. Never had you ever been in a racers car before.

You peeked back through the rear window as you sped away. The police car was giving chase, but Bakugo knew these alleys better than they did and he was gonna show you just how fun speeding away from cops can be.

"Buckle up, princess."

Bakugou’s head pounded as he struggled to fit his front door key into the lock, roughly smashing it against the cold metal until it clicked. Practically falling into his house as he strumbled to regain his balance, fuckin’ dunce face and his happy hour strawberry daiquiris. He’d always told him that those drinks were the most lethal, the ones that would really get you in trouble.

He hadn’t planned on going out to celebrate his birthday, perfectly content with spending the evening at home cooking his favourite mapu tofu and watching reruns of the American All Might documentary; but instead he’d found himself at a dingy dive bar surrounded with all his friends who insisted on plying him with drinks. Practically groaning at the puppy dog eyes Kirishima had given him when he’d returned with a tray of shots, “You need to let yourself relax and unwind a little, Bakubro! It’s not good keeping yourself so pent up.”

And perhaps his best friend was right.

Collapsing onto his bed as he attempted to struggle out of his jeans, barely able to unbutton them before giving up with his chest heaving. For fucks sake, the room was spinning. It didn’t help that his cock was stood proudly at half mast, bulging beneath the denim and desperate for some sweet relief. He’d spent the entire day bricked up, and the alcohol had only worsened the sensation.

Bakugou unlocked his cellphone to check for the time, wincing when a bright 1:49AM flashed across the screen. But even more glaringly obviously was the influx of notifications that had caught his eye, a multitude of them replying to a post that in his drunken stupor he hadn’t even realised he had sent.

Replies:

Reply from @kweenkatsuki-fics just head, king?

Reply from @kingkatsuki who knew Dynamight was such a slut?

Reply from @saturnsorbits thought you said you weren’t that desperate, huh?

Reply from @bakugotrashpanda video attached, hit me up

Reply from @strafepanzer anyone will do huh?

Reply from @katsukikitten picture attached, location shared, cum here

A Bakugou Birthday Bash Collab!!!!! A mix of smut and crack fics we've whipped up and hope you enjoy! Please be sure to check back for the fics on the mentioned blogs! Fics will be posted around Bakugou's birthday! 420 blaze it 🍃

Intro written by @kingkatsuki

SATORU’S PRINCESS - TWITTER LINKS

He loves your cherry titties

Watching his cum drip from your pussy

Fingering his cuffed up baby doll

You’re too small for him

Wishing him sweet dreams before bed

Wanting him to do you bareback

Teasing his sweet princess

Reaching your belly from inside

Playing skateboard on your ass

He’s got your thighs shaking

Fucking you in his dorm room (let’s hope Suguru won’t hear)

Too much cum

Taking care of his school girl

Letting Suguru join in while he fucks you

Swore up and down I’d never do this but it’s too high achool Satoru coded not to… also, we’re assuming he’s 18 u guys chill

All Is Far In Love And Farming Masterlist

Yandere!Mha!Hybrids x Farmer!Fem!Reader

Characters for now: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Mina Ashido, Ochako Uraraka, Tenya Iida, Denki Kaminari, Kyoka Jiro, Tsuyu Asui, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Hanta Sero, Mashirao Ojiro, Koji Koda, Momo Yaoyorozu

Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of themselves!! Adult age of hybrids, reader is early 20s.

warnings: short chapters, stardew valley au, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere, hybrid and human relationships, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

Chapter One: “Getting Started” — Found here.

Chapter Two: “???” — coming….

Chapter Three: “???” — coming….

Chapter Four: “???” — coming….

Chapter Five: “???” — coming….

taglist: comment if you want to be tagged ♡

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

One: Biting w/ Volo

Three: Blowjob w/ Ryomen Sukuna

Five: Blood w/ Kokichi Ouma

Seven: Hands/Fingers w/ Izuru Kamukura

Nine: Taste Game w/ PG! Shuichi Saihara (Request)

Eleven: Overstimulation w/ Kokichi Ouma (Request)

Thirteen: Degradation w/ Nagito Komaeda

Fifteen: Urophilia w/ Ryomen Sukuna

Seventeen: Upskirt w/ Kokichi Ouma

Nineteen: Forced w/ Volo

Twenty-One: Cigarettes w/ Junko Enoshima

Twenty-Three: Breeding w/ Beam

Twenty-Five: Spitroast w/ Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba

Twenty-Seven: Exhibitionism w/ Satoru Gojo

Twenty-Nine: Possessive w/ Nagito Komaeda

Thirty-One: Edging w/ Ryomen Sukuna

Headcanon

Oneshot

Please read warnings for each fic as some will contain non-con and dub-con elements ❤️

Spotify playlist here

View on AO3 here

-`♡ masterlist ♡´-

♥︎ about me ♥︎ ♥︎ guidelines ♥︎

SERIES

pierced. | spencer reid. fluff, angst, smut (18+) pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5 (nsfw), pt. 6, pt. 7 (nsfw), pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10 (epilogue) (nsfw)

ONE SHOTS

angel. | spencer reid. smut (18+), fluff mansplaining. | spencer reid. fluff, silly safe. | spencer reid. fluff, angst

ꜱʏɴ: Your father, Shota Aizawa is about to be enlisted for the war against his will, along with the most able-bodied oldest man in every home in your village. Given his disability though, letting him fight in the war only means death- so you do what any other loving daughter would do- you disguise yourself as a man and fight in his stead. But what do you do when you find yourself falling for the commander of your troop, especially when he's taken such an interest in you after you beat him at a sparring match.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: A Pot of Stew

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: Bruises

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: To the Victors Go the Spoils

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ: Ten, Again

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ: A Broken Heart

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪx: Warrior

ᴀ/ɴ: Is this very Mulan-esque? Yes. Is that on purpose? Also yes. Obviously, it's a little different though, but I'm really excited to see how this turns out!! It's kinda within the fantasy genre, but this is more like medieval times with fantasy elements if that makes sense. Anyways, if you want to join the taglist, lmk!

domestic > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

Word Count: 3.6k

Ship: Keigo/Hawks x Reader

Warnings: Corrupt hero commission (we hate the hero commission on this blog), keigo overworks himself, keigo & reader fight, miscommunication, some cursing, keigo’s a little shit (he has his reasons okay), mentions of a rescue mission and the aftermath, hurt/comfort

A/N: So sorry this fic is so delayed 😭 Have been going Through It lately but I’ve got a few fics queued up to make up for my absence ❤️ This is my favorite Keigo fic so far

“pro hero hawks is the first on the scene!”

“pro hero hawks took down the villain that’s injured dozens, including some pro heroes!”

“another takedown by pro hero hawks.”

“hawks is finally on the scene, this should be over soon.”

-

keigo wasn’t answering his phone. which was expected for the first night. he had just come home from a week long mission and on his flight home, another issue came up that he had to answer to. he didn’t get home until midnight, having refused any other hero’s offer to relieve him once his shift had technically ended, until best jeanist all but escorted him off the scene. you had hoped keigo had been resting when you walked into your office the next morning, until you looked at the news and saw he was already back out on patrols.

when you walked into keigo’s office, you expected to see a mountain of paperwork on his desk. you were fully prepared to work all day to catch him up, hoping to surprise him by finishing all his work for him. you were the one surprised when you saw only one paper on his desk, a note for you.

‘gonna be working late tonight, don’t wait up for me’

you scowled as you read the note, even if you had to fight the urge to melt when you saw the little bird doodle keigo had signed the note with. you once again called keigo, this time his work number, and you resisted the urge to throw your phone at the wall when your call once again went unanswered. you pulled up your text conversation with keigo and began to type.

‘you’re going home tonight. i will be outside at eight and you will let me in. i am not kidding when i tell you i’ll wait all night. please, just let me know you’re okay.’

you knew the text would go unanswered, but you hoped. you hoped that he would read it, at the least. that he would talk to you. your phone buzzed and you quickly picked it up, and you sighed when it was just another text from rumi.

‘i’ve seen him pass by once or twice, but he doesn’t stop. i’ve got a few others looking out for him, i’ll let you know if i hear anything’

you set your phone down with a sigh as you sat back in the office chair. this was going to be a long night.

you texted keigo a warning before you entered his apartment. you had been given a key by keigo to use in case of emergencies, and your chatty birdbrain suddenly ghosting you is an emergency in your eyes. it was two AM when you entered, and you felt your eyes begin to sting when you realized keigo wasn’t home. a quick search on the hero network showed that he was last seen a little after ten, and none of your own security alerts had gone off at your apartment. he was at his agency, avoiding you. it stung, the avoidance settling heavy in your chest, weighing you down as if there was a physical weight on your body.

you texted a quick update to rumi before you left keigo’s, and you made the walk back to your own apartment. keigo would definitely have lectured you any other time if he knew you walked home alone, and a selfish part of you hoped he’d find out. you’d take the scolding if it meant he would talk to you.

you flinched as you heard a voice speak from beside you.

“surprised he let you walk home alone at this hour,” you relaxed once you recognized the drawl of eraserhead’s voice. “your guard bird working tonight?”

“you’re going to sneak up on me at the wrong time one day and you’re going to get your shit rocked,” you replied, no real heat to your words.

“i’ll take my chances.” a hint of a smirk graced his face before it relaxed into his usual stoic expression.

“but no, he’s not working tonight.” you paused. “not patrolling at least. he is working hard at avoiding me, though.” while you and eraserhead, aizawa, had only met a few times, you had established a friendly relationship with the underground hero. you had also developed a friendship with present mic, which seemed to influence eraserhead’s opinion of you. odd.

“that’s… different.” eraserhead says after a moment. “i’ll keep an eye out for him, and i’ll have hiz- present mic look out for him as well.”

the two of you continued to talk as he escorted you to your apartment. minutes later, you opened the door to your apartment and let the door shut with a soft click, and you barely made it to the couch before you fell asleep.

-

“ooh, rough night?” one of the tech interns, kazuki, teases as he watches you walk in.

“hilarious.” you scowled. you knew you looked tired; you woke up frequently throughout the night, unable to sleep for more than half an hour at a time. you gave up on sleep around five thirty this morning, and you clutched to the thermos of coffee in your hands like it was the only thing keeping you alive. “didn’t really sleep much last night.”

“hawks working you too hard? i saw him walking around a few minutes ago. looks like he was headed to his office,” your heart stopped at those words. was he actually here?

“thank you, kazuki!” you called as you sprinted for the elevator, reminding yourself to send kazuki a proper thank you later. when you burst into keigo’s office, you jumped back as a sharpened red feather flew at you, stopping mere centimeters away from your neck.

“shit, you scared me.” keigo smiled when he recognized you, and the sight of it filled you with anger. “oh, sorry. let me just.” keigo’s feather returned to its natural state and you swatted it away as it went to caress your cheek, not in the mood for his usually sweet antics. “songbird? you okay?”

and you couldn’t help but laugh. full body, doubled over laughs. keigo tilted his head, confusion flashing across his face as you continued to laugh. your name left keigo’s lips, and you recognized the slight movements he was making. he was twitchy, like he wanted to move but he couldn’t decide which move was the best. you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning and you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of unshed tears in your eyes.

“you son of a bitch,” you whispered. you looked at him and his form became blurry, the tears now sliding down your cheeks. “you, you have me worried for days. you ignored my calls and texts, i even had other heroes looking out for you!” you started to walk towards him and you stopped just out of his reach. “you went to the point of staying here to avoid seeing me. why?” you finally met his gaze and golden eyes were filled with an emotion you didn’t recognize. his gaze was cold, distant. yet still, he kept the smile on his face, the smile he plastered on for annoying news reporters.

“i’ve been busy.”

“you’re running yourself ragged! you’re going to get hurt or cause someone else to get hurt because you’re working yourself to death.” you reached out and jabbed him in the chest.

“you don’t understand. you never will, so why are you even trying to? i can’t answer every call and text from my assistant.”

“that’s all i am to you? your assistant?” you asked. you were met with silence and you felt your heart begin to break. “look me in the eyes and tell me that’s all i am to you. and i promise, from now on, that’s all you’ll get from me.”

“what else would you be?”

wordlessly, you dug your key ring from your jacket pocket. you pulled off the key that belonged to keigo’s, to hawks’s, apartment and you set it down on his desk.

“noted. since you’ve clearly got a handle on things, i think i’ll be taking the next two days off for some personal days. i’ll be back on monday, hawks.” the name felt foreign on your lips and his wings twitched in response. you wordlessly spun on your heel and slammed hawks’s office door shut behind you. you could feel the stares from everyone in kei- hawks’s agency watching you, and you briefly shook your head when you saw kazuki before rushing out of the building, straight into the rain that had suddenly started to downpour. because of course it did.

as you walked in the rain to the bus stop, you ignored the frequent buzzing that came from your pocket.

“what else would you be?” echoed through your head, and you couldn’t believe that came from kei- his lips. what happened during his last mission? you shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“just an assistant,” you muttered under your breath. “what the hell, birdie?”

-

it was the middle of the night and you were sitting on your couch, eating from a carton of ice cream as you flipped through the channels on TV. you had finished your second movie of the night when you stumbled across the news. you paused when you saw hawks’s name flash across the bottom of the screen and you wanted to change the channel. but you couldn’t.

“eight hours later, the search and rescue has been completed. over 200 victims were rescued from the destruction thanks to the effort of our number two hero. thank you to pro hero hawks for being the first hero to respond, and the last to leave the tragic scene of the collapsed apartment complex.”

the reporter continued to talk about the injuries and the casualties, and you scanned the screen for him, not seeing a glimpse of red anywhere, save for some discarded feathers on the ground. you pulled out your phone immediately and searched online for something, anything about your- kei- hawks. your messages were full of texts from rumi and kazuki. a few from present mic, even a text from best jeanist’s assistant with a message from the pro.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door and you jumped off the couch. you glanced at the time, a little after midnight. you had hopes for who it was. you also didn’t know what you’d do if it was him. you slowly walked to the front door, willing your heart rate to calm down, and you reached forward to open the door.

you gasped at the sight in front of you, your phone clattering to the floor but you paid it no attention. hawks stood at your door, covered in dirt and dust and… blood? his jacket was gone, pants torn and ripped to barely there shreds of fabric. his flight goggles and headphones were gone, hair caked in dirt and sweat and he looked like he was seconds from falling over. he looked small without his massive wings behind him, most of the feathers left at the scene.

“‘m sorry. i tried, tried to go home. you were closer and,” hawks gestured to himself. “kind of grounded. i’m sorry, i can go.” he swayed a bit. you dove forward as he stumbled, and you held him up as he leaned into you. you kicked the door shut and you repositioned yourself to better support the hero as you walked towards your bathroom. “what are you doin’?” his voice was hoarse, and you made note to grab him water, as well as a million other things once you got him settled.

“first, im gonna clean you up. get some water for you, heat up some leftovers, and get you in clean clothes before i put you in bed.”

“what? no- i. i was horrible. you can’t… you can’t be nice to me. not after everything i said.” hawks said and you shushed him.

“shh, you’re going to wreck your voice more. we’ll talk once you’re taken care of.” you walked into the bathroom and made quick work of setting up a shower. you started to step away to grab towels and you felt a hand grab your arm.

“don’t leave me. please,” he rasped and you turned to face him, your heart aching at the sight in front of you. your keigo.

“not going anywhere. just grabbing towels, yeah?” you walked with him to the hallway, and you grabbed your fluffiest towels. you then grabbed a caddy full of keigo’s favorite toiletries. his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and oil for his wings. he was missing a lot of feathers, but you’d take care of what was left. he was hurt, your birdie was hurt. it was your turn to be the hero, to make sure he was okay.

when you returned to the bathroom a minute later, keigo’s tired eyes lit up at your return.

“let’s get you in the shower, yeah?“ you set the towels down, put his supplies in the shower, and turned on the shower to his preferred temperature. you then walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shirt. you glanced up at him and when he nodded, you gently began to peel his uniform off him. you quickly scanned him as you removed more articles of clothing, taking note of any new injuries and were relieved to see relatively little. once keigo had been stripped, you stepped into the shower with him, ignoring the fact you still had your t-shirt and sleep shorts on. your only focus was keigo right now, and you guided him under the shower head.

keigo’s exhaustion had seemed to hit as he leaned against you, and you supported him as you let the water get the top layer of grime off him. “there we go,” you soothed as you shifted, reaching for his shampoo. “there’s my birdie,” a weak chirp left him and you smiled sympathetically. “think you can sit so i can wash your hair?”

wordlessly, keigo moved to kneel down and once he settled, you began to scrub his hair. your hands worked in his hair until they ached, getting everything from the collapsed building from his hair before you added the shampoo. you took your time sudsing up his hair, and you smiled when you brushed some baby feathers in his hairline that caused keigo to coo quietly. keigo pressed a kiss to your stomach as you worked and leaned into your touch, much like a cat being petted. you helped him stand back up once you were ready to wash his body, and keigo practically laid against the wall of the shower as you worked to clean him off efficiently but quickly.

what felt like ages later, you turned the shower off and wrapped keigo up in a towel. you used the other towel to pat your own clothes dry quickly before you started to towel dry his hair.

“why are you… being so nice to me?” keigo asked and you frowned.

“i’m always going to care about you, pretty bird. you were a dick earlier,” you admitted. “but like it or not, you’ve wormed your way into my heart. you deserve to be taken care of, kei. we both know you don’t do it enough for yourself.” you moved to stand behind keigo and you looked at him in the mirror. “is it okay if i touch them?” you glanced at his baby wings and back at him. you held the oil in your hand, letting him see what your intentions were and you panicked when you saw his eyes fill with tears.

-

keigo couldn’t believe it. he had been horrible to you. he had tried to be horrible, he had never planned to come back to you this way. but he did and you? you dumbfounded him with how you treated him. as if you had just had a little spat over him breaking your heart. he could feel your heartbeat change during the conversation you two had in his office, he could practically hear your heart breaking over his words. but when he came to you, bloody and dirty, wings practically gone, and you treated him so tenderly. so… lovingly. when the first tear slid down his cheek, a dam broke. keigo chirped in surprise as you spun him around before he threw himself into your arms. he sobbed as he clung to you, as if you’d vanish into nothingness if he let go.

your arms immediately tightened around him and you used one hand to stroke his wing, the other combed through his hair so gently, sad warbles left his throat. “whatever happened,” you started. “we’ll handle it. me and you, yeah?” keigo tried to respond but couldn’t force any words out, more chirps leaving him as he nodded against your neck. “that’s my songbird.” you held him until his sobs turned into soft cries, and the cries into the occasional sniffle. keigo’s wing twitched as he felt you began to pay more attention to the feathers, and his eyes began to well up with tears again as he realized. you were preening him.

you’ve straightened his feathers out before a handful of times, usually for shoots or press interviews. he’s never had this much attention paid to them before, never in such a caring way at least. his body became lax against you, pleased coos and quiet chirps leaving his throat every now and then.

once you had finished, you led keigo to your room. you walked to the drawer with keigo’s things and he watched as you pulled out clothes for him to sleep in. “gonna change out of my wet clothes real quick, okay?” he nodded and you smiled softly at him before walking to your own side of the dresser. the two of you got dressed in a comfortable silence and you guided him to the living room, where minutes later, you settled onto the couch with dinner. keigo stayed curled into your side and you seemed perfectly content as you stroked his hair.

what felt like an eternity later, keigo was finally able to speak again. “i tried to come home. when i got off that mission. it.. it went horrible and i just wanted you. but i fail- they had told me i failed. i wasn’t as efficient as i should be, one of the villains had managed to escape before i caught him again. if i was a proficient hero, he never would have gotten a chance to get away.” you looked up as keigo spoke, and keigo struggled to maintain eye contact with you. you always seemed to see him, and that was terrifying.

“so i was already beating myself up when they sent me to another disaster, to redeem myself,” he quoted and you scowled at the words. “and i did better, that’s what they told me. and for a minute, i didn’t feel like a failure anymore. i felt worthy of my hero title so i…”

“you stayed busy, worked harder and harder to get rid of that bad feeling.” you finished for him and keigo nodded.

“but no matter what i did, how many patrols i went on, how many hours late i worked, it wasn’t good enough. they said i’m letting personal things get in the way of me being a good hero, that i was a better hero alone.” keigo trailed off and you looked sad, yet angry at the same time.

“they were the reason for our fight.” you said and keigo hummed in response.

“still. i never should have said what i did,” keigo cupped your cheek and you leaned into the touch. “i need you to know. need you to know you’re so much more to me than an assistant. maybe i’m a worse hero for it, but i love you. i love you, so much.” keigo’s voice shook and you scooted closer to him.

“i love you too,” you whispered. you glanced at keigo’s lips then back up at him, golden gaze meeting your own. you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, and keigo let out a soft breath as he kissed you. he had kissed you countless times, but none had ever been this soft. this slow, this.. vulnerable. there was no rush, nothing you were aiming for. just the two of you intertwined, and keigo didn’t break the kiss until he was out of breath, and he smiled at the quiet whine you made. “i think,” you said after a minute. “you need a few days to recover. bed rest, doctor’s orders.”

“you’re a doctor now, hmm?” keigo smiled as he pressed lazy kisses down your jaw and you pulled a blanket over the two of you. “can’t argue with doctor’s orders.”

“bed rest is the first step in treatment. cuddles could speed up the healing process, as well.” you said matter-of-factly as you tangled your legs with his own. keigo closed his eyes as you buried your face into his chest, and as you rubbed his back, keigo’s thoughts became fuzzy.

“careful, will stay here forever.” you nuzzled closer and keigo vaguely remembered your reply before you fell asleep.

“i’d love nothing more.”

⌜Know No Evil | Chapter 01 Chapter 01 | distorted reality⌟

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BOOM!

The world swam back into focus, a sickening wave of nausea rolling through you.  Your throat rasped, a metallic tang heavy in your mouth. Blinking away blurry spots, the world swayed violently around you. There was a dull throb behind your eyes, and a chilling, empty space where your memories should have been with each sluggish heartbeat.

Fear, raw and primal, gnawed at your insides. Where were you? Everything felt...wrong.

BOOM!

Another thunderclap, followed by a blinding flash of lightning, illuminated the room for a split second. Each crackle of electricity sent a jolt of pain through you, a strange disconnect between the storm outside and the ache in your body.

Disoriented, you tried to sit up, only to find your limbs heavy and unresponsive. Groaning, you forced your eyes back open, expecting the sterile white of a hospital room. But instead, you were met with a riot of bubblegum pink and frilly decorations.

Trying to focus, you pushed yourself off the plush bed, tiny legs unsteady and weak on the plush carpet. Drawn by an instinct you didn't understand, you stumbled towards a small, ornate vanity tucked away in a corner.

BOOM!

Another flash illuminated the room, and for a fleeting moment, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. A face stared back, long, coily red-tinged auburn hair, framed a face unfamiliar and innocent. Light brown skin stretched taut across unfamiliar cheekbones.

However, it was your eyes that truly terrified you.

Golden irises stared back, hypnotic in the flickering light. But it was the crimson rings within them, swirling like miniature storms, that sent a cold dread spiraling down your spine. These eyes, alien and unsettling, were the only familiar thing in this sea of confusion. Where are you? Why did everything feel so wrong?

BOOM!

Tears welled up, blurring the vibrant clash of pink and lightning in the reflection. But even the tears felt alien—a betrayal of a body you didn't recognize. You were adrift in a sea of your own flesh, a puppet with severed strings. No memories, no identity, just a throbbing head, a strange pain in your body, and fear—a cold, suffocating fear that had no name.

Collapsing onto the plush carpet, you reached for the cool vanity for some semblance of comfort. But instead of finding solace, your hand brushed against a soft, frilly nightgown, another alien entity on your unfamiliar skin.

You were lost, a terrified child in a body that felt wrong, with eyes that held a secret you desperately wanted to remember. A frantic voice cut through the cacophony of fear in your head. "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

An instinct you didn't understand made you shrink back.

The voice belonged to a woman who rushed to your side, her brow furrowed in worry. Her face, etched with lines of concern, was unfamiliar, yet there was a warmth in her eyes that practically swallowed you whole—you were a star in her desolate sky.

You wanted to ask who she was, who you were, but the moment you tried to form a question, a searing pain lanced through your head. It was easier, for now, to just let the confusion wash over you.

"Come to Mommy~" she reached out, her voice gentle but laced with urgency.

The woman—your apparent mother—sighed, her worry deepening. "Oh, sweetie, you must have been scared with that awful storm. Were you having another bad dream?"

Another dream? The term triggered a flicker of unease.  Dreams?  What dreams?

You clenched your fists, the throbbing in your head intensifying with every attempt to pull a memory from the void.

Nothing.

Frustration welled within you, a surge of anger replacing the fear. "I... I don't remember," you admitted, the words falling flat in the face of your growing anxiety.

Your mother, whoever she was, wrapped her arms around you, a gesture that felt foreign yet strangely comforting.  You didn't know how to react, your body stiff and unyielding in her embrace.

"It's alright, Y/N~" she soothed, her voice tinged with sadness. "Now come on, let's get you cleaned up and ready for breakfast."

The word "Y/N" hung in the air, a name that felt foreign on your tongue—a borrowed coat ill-fitting your shoulders.

As your short and chubby mother, led you away from the unsettling reflection in the mirror, you stole a glance at her. Her burnt orange hair, once vibrant and full of life, was now streaked with silver, a testament to the years that had passed. The curls, once perpetually escaping from any attempt at control, were now pulled back in a loose, lopsided bun, seemed to vibrate with nervous energy.

Her honey-tan skin was dusted with a constellation of dark freckles across the bridge of her nose—boring the etchings of time in the form of wrinkles crinkling around her warm, honey-colored eyes.  Even now, a flicker of worry, a worry that seemed to have become a permanent resident, danced within their depths.

Her name, you vaguely recalled from the panicked jumble in your head, was Mei.

The house itself mirrored Mei—functional, lacking any personal touches.  It spoke of a life lived by routine, devoid of the chaos you once thrived in.  The lack of toys or childish decorations was another jarring note.  Here, in this world of beige walls and muted tones, quirks weren't a topic of conversation, a stark difference from the hero-worshipped society you once manipulated.  Here, it seemed, you were utterly ordinary.

Breakfast was a quiet affair.  Your 'father'—Wino, a stoic man with a perpetual peppered five o'clock shadow—presented a stark contrast.

Tall and lanky, he grunted a greeting before disappearing behind a newspaper. His electric green eyes, usually crinkled at the corners from a lifetime of suppressed smiles, were hidden behind thick wire-rimmed glasses. His hair, once a vibrant auburn, had surrendered to the relentless march of time, turning a stark white that seemed to hold the secrets of countless unspoken words; both he and your mother appeared older than their mid-forties.

As Mei fussed over you, you picked at your food—the unfamiliar taste of fluffy pancakes, a bland echo of the delicacies you once indulged in.

Mei, oblivious to the storm brewing within you, hummed along to a children's show playing on the TV. It depicted brightly colored superheroes battling a giant, fire-breathing lizard. You watched the scene detachedly; it was both whimsical and confusing.

"Welcome back, young heroes-in-training! Today, we're going to learn all about quirks—those amazing abilities that make our world so unique!"

A flurry of images flashed across the screen: a boy with stretchy limbs, a girl who could manipulate fire, a man who could zoom through the air.  Your brow furrowed in concentration.  This was unlike anything you'd ever known.

"Quirks can be anything from super strength to creating illusions!" the cheerful announcer continued, "It's what makes our society so exciting!"

The show droned on, explaining quirk training, hero schools, and the intricate classifications of these bizarre abilities.  You listened intently, a spark of curiosity igniting within you.

What the hell are these "quirks" they kept droning on about?

Suddenly, a booming voice jolted you from your thoughts.

"Mei, change the channel. Not much point in letting her watch that mess. She won't be developing any quirks soon," Wino sighed behind his newspaper, lowering it down with a grimace. "No use in getting her hopes up."

Your mother bit her lip, a flicker of sadness crossing her features. "But she's only five," she began, her voice tinged with defiance, "we don't know if she's actually quirkless, there's always a chance..." Her words trailed off as Wino stood up and left the room without a glance, leaving behind a lingering scent of pipe tobacco in his wake.

You watched him go, your eyes narrowing a bit. Quirkless? The word itself felt foreign, a label you didn't understand but instinctively disliked.

As if on cue, the monotonous ringing of the house phone cut through the tense silence.  Mei gave you a strained smile before hurrying to answer it.  Left alone, you wandered back to the television, the cartoon announcer's overly enthusiastic voice now droning on about the "Quirkless Woes."

"And remember kids," the announcer chirped in a condescending tone, "if you're unfortunate enough to be born without a Quirk, just remember, there are plenty of perfectly ordinary jobs you can take up! Like... janitorial services! Or... grocery bagging!" His patronizing tone made you huff in annoyance; a strange feeling, a mix of anger and confusion, began to nestle in your chest.

Being Quirkless sounded... boring.

Limited.

Unfair.

Suddenly, the cheerful theme song was drowned out by a breaking news alert flashing across the screen. A stern-faced woman with a microphone reported on a villain attack downtown. Live footage showed a hulking man with glowing red eyes causing havoc, his bare fists shattering concrete pillars with ease.

"This is villain Catastrophe causing a rampage in the Musutafu financial district," the newscaster explained. "Heroes are on the scene, but the situation seems critical. We'll continue to bring you updates..."

Your gaze flicked between the cartoon heroes and the real-life devastation; a strange mix of curiosity and... envy? flickered within you.

These people, these heroes, could manipulate reality—defy the laws of physics with the flick of a wrist.

You, on the other hand, were utterly and seemingly ordinary.

The frustration bubbled up again, a familiar feeling you couldn't quite place. Was it the powerlessness? The lack of control? Or perhaps a deeper longing for something more, something you couldn't even articulate?

As the news droned on, Mei switched the TV off, a bright etching itself onto her face. "Come on, sweetie, let's finish your breakfast~" she said gently, "Today's an exciting day, we're learning the alphabet!"

☆

☆

Later that night, as the rain tapped a gentle rhythm against your window, you lay tucked under the covers, Mei having just left after her nightly goodnight kiss.  Staring out at the slick streets, you tried, in vain, to push past the blank canvas of your memories.

A dull ache throbbed behind your eyes, intensifying with each frustrated attempt.  Your body trembled, a cold sweat slicking your skin. Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through your head, and a gasp escaped your lips.

Involuntarily, your eyes flared open, an unsettling yellow glow emanating from them for a fleeting moment.  A metallic tang filled your mouth, and you reached up to your nose, feeling a warm trickle of blood.

Through the ringing in your ears, a voice, faint and distorted, seemed to whisper a name. "...Ma...ki...ma..." it repeated, the syllables blurring together before fading entirely. Each whisper senting a jolt through you, a flicker of a vision erupting behind your closed eyelids.

"...Ma...ki...ma..." The first whisper brought a flash of a pale, porcelain face, a chilling smile stretched impossibly wide across blood-red lips. Then, darkness.

"...Ma...ki...ma..." The voice pleaded, a touch more insistent this time; and with it, it ignited a vision of slender, crimson-stained fingers wrapped around a length of barbed wire, a look of perverse pleasure contorting the unfamiliar face. Darkness again.

"...Ma...ki...ma..." The vision that followed this plea was a kaleidoscope of horrors—a city in flames, screams swallowed by the roar of an unseen beast, and that same face, eyes blazing with a cold, predatory hunger.

A wave of nausea washed over you, and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, willing the visions away.

The whispers began to quicken, a desperate urgency seeping into their tone. "Ma...ki...ma...Ma...ki...ma!" Each utterance felt like a physical blow, a sledgehammer pounding against the fortress of your mind. With each beat, the visions intensified, a torrent of violence and depravity flooding your senses.

A cackle, laced with madness, echoed in the darkness. You saw twisted shadows writhe on the ground, heard the sickening crunch of bones, felt the heat of searing flames licking at your skin.

And then, her face, crystal clear this time, filled your vision.

The pale girl, the crimson smile—Makima.

Her eyes, once a mesmerizing crimson, were now a bottomless void, devoid of any humanity.

"Makima!" The final whisper arrived in a shout of despair, resonating with horrifying clarity, shattering the last vestiges of your resistance.

Your pupils dilated, a single word echoing in the vast emptiness—Makima.

It was a name, a fragment of who you were, but it offered no explanation for your current existence.

Slowly, the tremor subsided, the yellow glow in your eyes receding, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.  Fear melted into a strange sense of clarity.

You were Makima, but you were also Y/N.

Calming your ragged breaths, you tested the name on your tongue in a low, raspy whisper. "Makima..."

It held power—a chilling familiarity—but it felt distant, alien.

Y/N, the name your mother called you, felt more comfortable, more like your own.

Yes, you decided; you were Y/N.

You didn't know who Makima was, but you would find out. And in the meantime, you would carve your own path in this world, as Y/N.

A determined glint flickered in your eyes, a spark of defiance against the unknown future.

***EECKKK!! I'm so hyped for this, lol. Just get ready for all the fan-service cuz y'all know i love being delusional, lololo

Anyways, here's a sneek peak, I have like 10+ completed and should start updating regularly in about a week (i plan on having 20+ completed so I won't keeping you guys waiting too long in between updates) See y'all next update ❤️

more jjk + mha fic recs !! ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ

in my unemployed era so i have hours to scroll on this damn app... here are more fics that i loved!! featuring: megumi, satoru, nanami, toji, yuuji, yuuta, katsuki, izuku, shouto (whew there's a lot of them today. your girl has been READING) credits to all these talented writers!! pls check them out!! masterlist more fic recs pt. i pt. iii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

you and gumi bond over books (he reads a book you're interested in just so you have someone to discuss it with. bawling)

multiple-part enemies to lovers smau!! (this is SO FUNNY. i cried from laughter more than once)

more enemies to lovers (lengthier fic, so so good + smutty)

you give megumi valentines day chocolates (so so cute he just loves u so much)

secret relationship trope + poor yuuji walks in on you making out (poor baby is traumatised)

more secret relationship + getting caught (i love this one so much)

your silly tired bf just wants kisses

it's late, you're wandering in your ducky slippers and see megumi patching himself up

megumi falls in love with milf! reader (omfg... i love this sm. i've never considered being a cougar until now)

friends to lovers with megumi (high school a.u + gumi buys reader sanrio)

thinking about megumi's hands (i js know they are pretty. thinking of all the unspeakable things they can do)

comforting insecure megumi (my poor baby. a lil angst but dw there's a happy ending)

: ̗̀➛ kento nanami x reader

kento comes home early (so cute and precious. im crying i need him to be real so bad)

he gets hurt bad and you can't stop crying (angsty but also fluffy don't worry this doesn't end like shibuya)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

riding toji until he whimpers omfg (he gets embarrassed and teaches you a lesson ahhh)

your fiancee toji finally gets freed from prison (they finally freed my man anyway you suck him off while he drives omfg)

sex as payback for your noisy ass neighbours (im losing it)

really cute dating headcanons

more on toji being a simp for you (HES SOOO)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

"my girl is mad at me i hope i die" that's it

y/n + satoru being stupidly in love (now this one has a kick to it.i'm crying)

satoru is obsessed with you but you're oblivious (pining satoru)

boyfriend texts w/ satoru

fucking satoru in the prison realm (AHHHH)

satoru begs to fuck you at some high profile event (u js look so cunty in that outfit and it drives him crazy)

car sex with satoru AHHH

satoru lets u try on his blindfold (hes such so :( so so adorable)

you get hurt and satoru is worried (wow this is so well written. happy ending + gojo centric)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

fucking ur friend yuuji in a club bathroom (this is so so good)

"if we had a baby would it be mine or sukuna's" (this is hilarious)

yuuji comforts his gf who's not his 'usual type' (its me im the short gf with a big chest) (i’ve been coming back to reread this daily)

: ̗̀➛ yuuta okkotsu x reader

blowing ur big dick bf yuuta (canon)

really really romantic sex w/ yuuta (straight up making love)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugo x reader

domestic headcanons (i love them and i love him. help)

more cute relationship headcanons

katsuki is obsessed with gossiping and eavesdropping when you and your friends spill the tea (this is so funny i love it sm)

dragging katsuki to the club bathroom because u love him (this is so wholesome im crying)

kiri notices how whipped katsuki is for you

guard dog katsuki is jealous

: ̗̀➛ izuku midoriya x reader

mating press with izuku (this actually drives me crazy. written so well and in character)

izuku is just so fucking precious (i can't take it anymore)

: ̗̀➛ shouto todoroki x reader

shouto gets halved by a quirk but not like gojo, there's js two of him (there is one obvious thing to do now)

dr. todoroki promises to breed you properly (i'm convulsing)

you're insecure after giving birth and shouto comforts you (with loving words and his dick)

resolving an argument w/ ur bf shouto (so cute!!)

eating u out in the kitchen (omfg)

there is an overwhelming amount of smut i'm sorry this is kind of embarrassing i'm just super horny lmao

Enough to Go By -- a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 1

You had a best friend when you were little, just like almost everyone, and the two of you were as different as two people could be. He was a boy and you were a girl. You were the oldest of four, and he was the youngest of two. His family was rich because his dad was some kind of business genius, and your family was – not. You and your best friend had exactly two things in common. First, you lived across from each other on the same street, him in a big new house and you in one that had been falling apart since before your parents were born. And second, and maybe most important, neither of you had a quirk.

It was okay for your best friend. He still had time. People in his family got their quirks when they were two or three or four or maybe even six, like they were supposed to. But everyone in your family is born with theirs. Your family’s quirks do different things, but they’re the same type of thing – powering up or watering down or just changing some part of somebody else, and they’re active until the person’s old enough to turn them off.

You hated being home. You had one younger brother who could turn your hearing up and down, one younger sister who could turn your color vision on and off, and twin baby brothers who could make you throw up whenever they wanted to. Going to school, or going across the street to play in front of Tenko’s house with him and his big sister and his dog, was the closest things ever got to normal for you.

Tenko wanted to be a hero. You knew he’d be the best hero, because he was a hero already, even without a quirk. Nobody was every left out when you and Tenko played at school, because Tenko could make everybody feel included, and you spent so much time trying to placate your siblings that you knew how to make sure everybody had fun. But for everybody to have fun, people needed to be there. Tenko was the one everybody believed in, the one who made everybody feel important. When you spent time with Tenko, you felt like you belonged. Tenko was already a hero, even as a kid. You knew he’d be amazing at it when he grew up.

Only he didn’t grow up, your best friend. You walked home from school together one day, said goodbye and crossed to your opposite sides of the street, and when you looked out your window the next morning, Tenko’s house was gone.

A villain did it. That’s what everybody said, and you didn’t know what else it could be, because Tenko’s house was in ruins, like a giant had smashed it with its foot or someone had blown it up from the inside. You raced across the street without your shoes on, right into the middle of what was left, and even though your parents spent money they didn’t have on a specialist whose quirk let them wipe memories right out of your brain, you still have nightmares sometimes about what you saw. Tenko’s big sister Hana was dead. His dog was dead. His mom and his grandparents and his dad were dead. But he wasn’t there, so you made yourself believe he was alive.

And some part of you kept believing, even after the foundations of an apartment building were laid over the spot where Tenko’s house used to be, even after your family moved away. Your youngest younger siblings, a set of triplets born after you moved, thought Tenko was your imaginary friend because of how much you talked about him. And even once you stopped talking about him, you never quite stopped thinking about him. Your best friend, who wanted to be a hero. Who would have been the greatest hero the world had ever seen.

Everyone else forgot him, forgot him so cleanly that you almost wonder if it was a quirk. But you remember your best friend – small things, weird things, like how he’d sometimes get so excited he’d almost cry. His All Might impression, which was so bad it almost worked. His dry skin and the way he’d scratch his neck. You wonder what happened, why he wasn’t found with his family. You wonder a lot of things.

“Everybody loses touch with their neighborhood kids,” Hirono says when you say something about it, while you and your friends are getting drunk in Kazuo’s backyard one weekend. “You’re not special.”

“Don’t be mean,” Yoshimi protests. “Her friend died. That’s different!”

“She just said he didn’t die. She thinks he’s still alive,” Sho says. He whistles and rotates one finger by his ear. “Cuckoo.”

“There should be a podcast about this,” Mitsuru says seriously, and Hirono and Mitsuko laugh at him. “No, there should! Five people confirmed murdered and a kid goes missing – and it’s never solved? That’s podcast material.”

“It’s newsworthy,” Kazuo says, his voice as expressionless as it always is these days. “Have you looked it up?”

“Yes,” you say. Too many times, probably. “The articles don’t say my friend went missing.”

“They said he died?”

“They don’t mention him at all.”

“Ooh. Spooky.” Sho makes a UFO noise, and Yoji, Yoshimi’s on-again, off-again asshole boyfriend, throws in some spiritfingers to go with it. “Maybe he’s imaginary after all.”

“Or maybe you do have a quirk,” Yuichiro, Mitsuko’s latest too-innocent boyfriend says earnestly. “Your family’s all status effects, right? Maybe you made everybody else forget him.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask blankly. You’re a little drunk. “He’s my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Kazuo says. Kazuo’s also a little drunk. “You don’t have a quirk. I would know. I know everything.”

The confidence is annoying, or it would be, if it wasn’t true – and if you didn’t know just how badly Kazuo’s quirk has ruined his life. “Maybe not,” Ryuhei says speculatively. “You only know what you know to know, you know?”

You try to parse that for a second, then give up. Mitsuru is wheezing with laughter. “Come on,” Ryuhei says, annoyed. “You know what I mean. Kazuo only knows the answers to questions he knows to ask, right? What if he hasn’t asked the right question?”

Kazuo’s quirk is called Search Engine, and it’s not an overstatement. He can ascertain anything he asks about, and if the questions aren’t hyperspecific, he can take in vast amounts of information. Too much information for even the smartest person to sort through and interpret without going crazy under the strain. He was going to be a hero, but UA High pushed him too hard, and something went wrong in his head. The smartest guy you know, who used to be funny and kind and should be changing the world for the better right now, is instead drunk in his parents’ backyard, still trying to figure out where his emotions went. You haven’t seen Kazuo care about anything in two years.

But you can see him thinking about what Ryuhei said, trying to wrap his mind around a question. “Don’t,” you say, and he looks at you, puzzled. “If I had a quirk, I’d have had it when I was born, just like the rest of my family.”

“Your family has some funky quirks,” Yoji says. You have a feeling you know where he’s going with this, and you’re not wrong. “Isn’t one of your cousins a villainess?”

“She barely counts,” Hirono says. “What could they even charge her with if they caught her? Possession of a video camera and bad taste in men? They could charge Yoshimi with that, too.”

“Hey!”

Sho and Ryuhei join in on the ribbing, and you lean back against the steps. Kazuo rises from his chair a little unsteadily and comes to sit by you. “You never mentioned this friend of yours before.”

“It never came up.” You glance sidelong at him. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No,” Kazuo says. He hiccups. His alcohol tolerance has always been weirdly low. “I’m surprised you never asked me to find him. Maybe I could.”

“I know.” If Kazuo ever recovers from what UA High did to him, the government will be all over him. He could find anything, anyone – but like Ryuhei said, he has to know what questions to ask. “I think I’m scared of what you’d find. I don’t want him to be dead.”

“Dead might be better.”

You almost choke on the sip of vodka you just took. “Excuse me?”

“If he died, he died,” Kazuo says. No shit. “If he’s still alive, he’s been missing for fifteen years. During my work-study, I assisted in the search for several missing children. Nothing good had happened to the ones we found alive.”

You hadn’t thought about that, what it would actually mean if Tenko is still alive, and your brain supplies you instantly with a list of terrible things that could have happened to your best friend. Your imagination is pretty vivid. Your stomach turns. “I don’t want that,” you say. “I just want him to be okay.”

“Sometimes dead is better,” Kazuo says again. And then he’s quiet.

You try to get back into the mood of the party, but what Kazuo said sticks, and you’re kind of mad at him about it. The old Kazuo wouldn’t have said something like that, or else he would have put it more gently. You miss the old Kazuo. Thanks to a villain fifteen years ago and UA fucking High, you’re now short two best friends.

Kazuo’s a good guy, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t drawn to him because of who he reminded you of. You have a soft spot for dark-haired boys who want to be heroes. If Tenko hadn’t gone missing and the two of you had gotten to grow up together, you probably would have wound up with a big, stupid crush on him, the supercharged version of how you felt about Kazuo. But a relationship between the two of you wouldn’t have worked out, for the same reason your relationship with Kazuo didn’t work. Being a hero comes first. Being a hero always comes first with guys like them. You probably wouldn’t like them as much if it didn’t.

Getting drunk at Kazuo’s is a typical Friday night pastime among your friends, and usually everybody sleeps over. Everybody usually includes you, but you have to work tomorrow, which means you have to go home. Sometimes you and Kazuo still fool around when you’re both drunk, and you want to avoid that, too. You drink a glass of water and start sobering up while the others are still sorting out places to sleep, and then you tell them all good by and head out, taking three trains in a loop around the city to give yourself even more time to sober up before you have to walk home. You don’t live in the nicest neighborhood. You need to be alert.

When you finally get off the train at your stop, you realize you’ve got another problem. You’re hungry, and you won’t have time to cook when you get home if you want to sleep at all tonight. The all-night convenience store a few blocks up from your apartment is beckoning to you, and you give in without a fight. You’ll pick something to eat, eat it in the store for one last period of sobering-up, and walk the rest of the way home.

You feel a little better with a few bites of food in your stomach, and you’re pretty sure you’re not going to throw it up later. You hang out in the corner of the shop, a good spot to people-watch from if there were any people in here but you and the owner. The TV behind the counter is blaring the news about some villain attack, somewhere – two dumb-ass middle schoolers, one sludge villain, one can of whoop-ass opened by All Might. What else is new.

“Turn that shit off.”

The voice is raspy, and it’s coming from the far corner of the store. So there’s somebody else in here after all. You rise to your tiptoes and peer over the shelves to spot the speaker. They’re wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and browsing for energy drinks, and apparently they have a real problem with what’s on TV – which means the proprietor has a real problem with them. “Got a problem with heroics? Or does seeing real heroes just remind you what a bum you are?”

“Fuck off,” the guy in the hoodie says sharply. “You’ve got more in common with me than you do with them. If you were there, you think you’d run in to help? No. You’d wait for a hero, because you’re useless and pathetic. At least I don’t walk around pretending to be something I’m not.”

Hoodie guy sort of has a point, even if you don’t like how he’s phrasing it. Hoodie guy also sucks at reading the room, because after that little back-and-forth, he yanks an energy drink out of the case and a package of sour candies off a shelf and heads up to the counter. The proprietor laughs in his face. “Get out of here. If you think I’m selling even a stick of gum to you, you’re out of your mind.”

Hoodie guy’s shoulders tense. “You’re so desperate to defend All Might that you won’t take my money? He’s not gonna fuck you.”

You must be a little more drunk than you thought, because you have to clamp your hands over your mouth to stifle a laugh. But there’s nothing funny about the situation that’s unfolding in front of you. The proprietor’s looking increasingly pissed, and Hoodie Guy’s hands are out of his pockets, open and twitching at his sides. You don’t know what either of their quirks are, but you’ve got seven siblings. You know what it looks like when a situation’s about to spiral out of control.

“I said get out,” the proprietor spits. He shoves the drink and the package of candy back across the counter, hard enough that they fall off and roll across the floor. Hoodie Guy’s hands begin to lift from his sides, and you step out of your corner. “You want to start something? Go ahead. The cops will be here so fast –”

“Not fast enough for you,” Hoodie Guy hisses. His hands are all the way up, reaching over the counter.

You scoop the snacks off the floor and duck into the scant space between Hoodie Guy and the counter. You elbow him a bit by accident and he stumbles, swears at you. You ignore him and focus on the proprietor. “Hi. I’m still hungry. Can I get these?”

The proprietor squints at you, nonplussed. Behind you, Hoodie Guy’s gotten his feet under him, and if it’s possible, he’s extra pissed. “Get out of my way.”

“You don’t want this kind of trouble,” you say, ignoring Hoodie Guy. He’s the instigator. You need him to shut up so you can handle this before it escalates. “I know you don’t. You want him out of here and he wants his snacks. If you don’t want his money, mine’s just as good.”

You’re conscious of Hoodie Guy looming over your shoulder. He’s not all that much taller than you, but he’s standing a little too close. You take your wallet out, and that seems to settle the issue. “You’re lucky your girlfriend’s here to help you out. That’ll be ¥1800.”

You pay up and collect the snacks. When you turn away from the counter, Hoodie Guy’s right there, and you get your first good look at his face – or at the life-sized model hand clamped over his face. That’s – weird. You can’t see his expression, but his tone of voice is unmistakable. “If you think –”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “You’re not gonna fuck me.”

It’s not a joke you’d make sober, but with the proprietor calmed slightly down, you have to knock Hoodie Guy off his game somehow. It works. He makes a weird, strangled sound, and you grab him by his sleeve and tow him out the door.

He lets you do it, which is a surprise, and you let him go as soon as the doors close behind you. You hold out the snack and the energy drink. “Here.”

You can’t see his face, but you can see one red eye, peering out at you through the fingers of the hand. “It was pretty stupid of you to get in my way.”

“It was pretty stupid of you to go up to the counter. If you’d stormed off he wouldn’t have chased you.” You’ve seen Sho use that tactic before – needle a store owner until they want him gone more than they want to check his pockets. “Just take this, okay?”

He raises one hand and scratches at his neck. There’s something familiar about the motion, and the scarred, scraped-raw patch of skin there. Maybe you’ve seen something similar at work. “Either you used some kind of quirk or you got lucky. Which is it?”

“Neither. I have seven siblings and I’m good at toning things down.” You’ve wished for a quirk that lets you affect others’ moods more than a few times. You had to learn your de-escalation techniques the hard way. “Do you want these or not?”

He’s still scratching, and something’s pulling at the back of your mind, harder and harder. “Seven siblings,” he says slowly. “That’s three more.”

“Three more than what?” you say, puzzled. And then it clicks.

You have seven siblings now. When you lived across the street from your best friend, you only had four. And now you get why the scratching looks so familiar, why there’s so much scar tissue in the place he’s clawing at – because he’s been scratching that same spot for a decade and a half. It doesn’t matter than his hair is grey-blue instead of black, that his eyes are red instead of grey. It doesn’t even matter that he’s got a creepy hand stuck over his face. You know who you’re looking at, and the surge of joy that overtakes you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You’d keep it to yourself, ordinarily. But tonight you’re a little drunk, and you can’t hold it in. “Tenko,” you say, and he freezes like he’s been struck by lightning. “You’re alive!”

Tenko stays frozen until you reach for him, at which point he bolts, and you really shouldn’t follow him – but you’re drunk and it’s your best friend and he’s alive just like you knew he was, so you chase after him. He was a little clumsy when you were kids. You were always a little faster on your feet, but his legs are longer than yours now, and he keeps you at a fair distance until he trips.

It’s sort of your fault he trips. He’s looking back over his shoulder, checking where you are, and he’s not watching his feet. It’s a bad fall. He sprawls out, the hand over his face dislodging and bouncing across the concrete, and you hear him cursing under his breath in a voice that carries a familiar strain. You’ve heard that before. You do what you did back then. You run to his side and drop to your knees, hands outstretched to help. “Tenko –”

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” Tenko lashes out with one hand, and instinct tells you to get out of range. The hand he lashes out with looks wrong – hurt, maybe, in the fall. His other hand is up over his face, covering it the same way the model hand was. “Father – I need – where –”

Father. You wonder if Tenko knows what happened to his father – but he’s feeling around on the concrete with the maybe-broken hand, and you realize what he’s looking for. “It’s over here,” you say. “Stay there. I can –”

“No.” Tenko lunges past you, seizes the hand, secures it over his face. Then he turns on you, and the hatred in his eyes sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine.

He knocks you onto your back. You know some self-defense – like any girl, like any person without a quirk – and you kick and thrash, arching your back, trying to throw him off. Some part of your mind is still spinning, because it’s Tenko, your best friend, who wants to be a hero – and it’s Tenko, his forearm coming down across your throat and half his body weight leaning onto it. You cough and sputter, and Tenko raises his other hand, all five fingers outstretched. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll kill you fast. Lie and it’ll be slow. Who are you?”

You don’t know how he expects you to answer with his arm over your throat. Dark spots are beginning to fill your vision. You shove at his arm, and his hand closes around your wrist. His grip is hot and dry and shaking, and a split second after he’s touched you, the burning starts. It’s like his hand is dipped in acid, like it’s clawing through your skin one layer at a time, and you scream in pain. Or you try to. He increases the pressure on your throat and chokes the sound off. “Don’t touch me,” he snarls. “And don’t scream. Who are you?”

You manage to rasp out your name, and you see Tenko’s expression shift. “We went to school together,” you gasp. “I lived across the street from you. We played together. You were –”

You black out for a second, and the pressure on your throat lifts slightly. “What?” Tenko spits. “I was what?”

“My best friend,” you whisper. Your eyes well up, tears running down your face when you blink. “I missed you so much –”

Tenko stares down at you for a moment longer. Then he recoils away from you, up onto his feet and back five or six steps. He’s cradling his wrist. You roll from your back to your side and gasp for air. There’s a rattle in your breathing that tells you your windpipe’s damaged, and when you blink the tears and spots from your vision to stare at your wrist, you see that your skin is raw, bloody and oozing. There’s the outline of all five of Tenko’s fingers, his thumb and middle finger joined, rotted into your skin.

“Go,” Tenko says. You look numbly up at him and see his face twisted behind the hand. “Now.”

Your wrist – his hair – his eyes – Tenko has a quirk now. An awful quirk. “What happened to you?” you ask helplessly. “Where did you go? Are you –”

“Go!” Tenko snaps at you. “Before I change my mind. Run!”

You scramble backwards and collide with something. The energy drink and the package of candy, which you dropped when you ran to help Tenko after he fell. The sight of them makes you want to burst into tears again. You don’t want to take them with you. You bought them for him. Without looking his way, you pick them up and set them on the ground between the two of you, pushing them towards him so he knows who they’re for. Then you force yourself to your hands and your knees and your feet and run for your life, away from the best friend you now know you’ve lost for good.

You didn’t want Tenko to be dead, and he isn’t. But Kazuo was right, too. Maybe dead would have been better. Anything would have been better than this.

☾ .⭒˚ the sixth of march ♡ rafayel birthday special

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with very little plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni,  semi-public bathroom sex, switch!raf, whiny!raf, semi-public sex, mirror sex, oral sex m!receiving, face/throat fucking, standing sex, hitting it from the back, creampies, cum swallowing, cum in panties, birthday sex, leaking cum in public, please let me know if i missed anything!

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: it’s our little fishy’s birthday! happy birthday rafayel! <3 short lil (lol 5k words short) smut for our precious raf’s birthday. idk why i always end up having raf x y/n sex be in the bathroom its purely coincidental LOL

please note that this is NOT based on his birthday event story OR the birthday event card. It might be somewhat similar but i wrote it entirely separately. If there’s any resemblance its purely coincidental, so don’t expect this fic to be accurate to the event!

as always pls enjoy :) also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

“bruschetta, miss?”

your head snaps to the politely smiling waiter in front of you, holding a tray of the most delicious glistening bread bites, topped with vibrant red cherry tomatoes and fresh green basil. 

“no, thank you,” you decline politely, having had your fill of the endless lavish hors d'oeuvres at the birthday party you’d put together for rafayel. instead, you let your eyes wander back to the highly in-demand purple haired birthday boy across the sea of random people you didn't know, and honestly you weren’t sure rafayel knew them either.

you’d originally wanted something quaint and intimate for rafayel’s 25th birthday, but thanks to thomas it’d turned into a huge elaborate party with business partners, sponsors, and just so many important industry contacts. the guest list spun out of control so fast, until it became a full blown business event.

honestly, you felt so terrible. you knew this is not what rafayel wanted for his birthday, but he was being an incredibly good sport about it, making polite conversation with every single person that approached him. which was extremely unlike him, and that scared you even more. besides the brief embrace you’d shared when he’d arrived, you hadn't had the chance to spend any time with him tonight.

so, like you had the rest of the night, you stared at him from across the ballroom floor, admiring him from afar. he was so unfairly dashing in his white jacket adorned with a gold leafed lapel chain that matched the stars and moon that hung off his golden waist chain. his black tie hung loosely against his hard chest, contrasting beautifully against the shining white pearls on his lapel. 

he’d picked out and gifted you a matching dress for you to wear, and had a driver deliver it to you this morning. it was nothing short of art itself, an extravagant golden a-line tulle evening gown with an expensive sequin and pearl applique that mirrored the starry night sky. the strapless sweetheart neckline pushed your cleavage up as the high slit exposed your bare legs, leaving you feeling beautiful and confident, something rafayel always knew how to do.

rafayel looks up from the undoubtedly very rich and important man he’d been talking to, and catches your stare from across the room. his lips don’t quirk, still caught in his conversation, but his eyes sparkle as they drink you in, the corners crinkling in their own little smile. 

you grin back at him, raising the glass of champagne you’d been holding onto for the entire night, and taking a languid gulp. as you lower the glass, you purposely let a droplet drip down your chin, using your index finger to catch it and bringing it up to your tongue to lick it off.

even from yards away, you can see rafayel’s eyes darken and his neck bob with a gulp. you watch as he falters in his words, trying to steel himself back into his conversation. chuckling to yourself, you turn away from him to give a brief reprieve of your teasing.

the champagne lights your face ablaze, so you decide to run to the bathroom to touch up before your makeup starts melting off. you weave through the hordes of elegantly dressed guests, slightly in shock of how many people showed up to celebrate rafayel. or at least showed up to get in his good graces. 

the banquet hall you’d booked was expensive and intricate, and the bathrooms were no different. as you slipped into the single unisex washroom you barely noticed as rafayel slipped in behind you before you could let the door shut fully. 

you yelped in surprise as he followed you into the single stall bathroom, but the alarm dissipated when you realized it was him and not some random stranger. 

“rafayel!” you reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, “what are you doing?!”

rafayel doesn’t respond, instead capturing you in his embrace, his hands settling around the small of your back as he pulls you tightly into his hard body. 

“you shouldn’t tease me all night, it’s not very nice,” he hums, playing with a curled lock of hair against your cheek.

you feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, “what am i doing?”

rafayel pouts, his cheeks rosy under the fluorescent bathroom lights, “it’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me.” he tucks the strand of hair he’d been playing with behind your ear.

“i haven’t gotten to see you, all night,” he sulks, his voice tinged with a sharp whine.

you can’t help but giggle at his childish behavior and tease him a bit, “but you were looking at me just earlier!”

he grumbles, thoroughly unamused, “you know that’s not what i mean.”

you sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, “i know, i’m sorry raf. this was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. it got out of control so fast.”

he continues with his pouty tirade. “it’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, “and i don’t even get to enjoy the only thing i want.”

he pulls away so he can admire you again, this time right before his hungry and waiting eyes like he should’ve been able to. his gaze devours every inch of you, from the exposed and flushed skin to the way the dress hugs your figure in all the right ways.

“i miss you,” he complains, eyes still drinking you in and hands tight against your waist.

“m’sorry raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, “i missed you too.” 

he sighs dramatically, “i don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. especially when you look like this right across the room.”

“it’s a beautiful dress. i didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for it yet,” you mumble bashfully, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing stare.

“i knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, “but i thought i would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. and off you.”

and though you can tell rafayel is half joking, you can’t help but feel bad that you’re partly to blame for him having to spend his birthday like this, with people who wanted his attention for their own personal selfish reasons.

“i’m sorry babe, it’ll be over soon. i’ll make it up to you, i promise!”

sighing deeply and theatrically again, “how will you make it up to me? i only get one birthday a year, you know?”

you get a mischievous and filthy idea. your hands travel from his back to his abdomen, pushing slightly to create space between your bodies. he eyes you curiously, but lets you continue. as your hands travel further south, undoing the intricate latch of his expensive belt, his eyes widen.

“h-hey! what are you doing?!”

as you get down onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you in your descent, you look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them earnestly, “my birthday boy is unhappy, and we can’t have that can we?” though the bathroom is spotless, the tiled floor likely cleaner than your own bathroom, you’re careful to bunch the beautiful gown up and hold it above your calves, as best as you can.

“i can just give you one of your birthday gifts right now,” you murmur, “but you’ll have to wait until we’re home to unwrap the rest.”

rafayel only gulps in response, his cheeks and earlobes slowly turning crimson as he’s left standing in just his briefs. mesmerized, you watch as his erection lifts against the restraint of his underwear, grasping the base with your fingers and reveling in the way he whimpers into the brisk bathroom air.

you rest your lips against the tent in his briefs, licking at his length against the clothing. he hisses, hands finding purchase in the sink behind him to ground himself against your teasing licks. you keep your eyes glued to his, batting your eyelashes as you take his cock out. as the cold clean air of the bathroom hits him, he sucks in another sharp breath, gripping the sink almost painfully.

rafayel has to remind himself how to breathe as he watches your beautiful eyes widen as you lick at the copious amounts of pre cum dripping down his length and onto his briefs. 

“h-holy shit,” he wheezes out, throwing his head back as your tongue skillfully maneuvers over his glistening bulbous head, the skin pink and angry, demanding attention. you take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his slick filling your senses. rafayel whines and twitches at the vibrations of your mouth, trying desperately to keep from busting his load into your mouth right there.

you tease him dutifully, only letting his cock enter your mouth, not taking him into your throat just yet. a mess of whimpers and moans, rafayel holds himself back from forcing his length down into your warm and waiting throat, like you’d let him so many times before. the sight of you, all done up in the beautiful golden gown he’d personally picked for you, on your knees for him, drove him insane, but he wanted to be a good boy for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, “you feel so g-good.”

your mouth bobs up and down earnestly at his praises, and he’s being so good for you you want to reward him. but your hands are busy holding up your dress from falling to the bathroom floor which makes it difficult for you to service his entire impressive length. so instead, you use one hand to bring each of his palms into your curled hair. luckily you’d worn your hair down in tousled waves so you were able to easily thread his fingers into them, urging him to grip onto you.

you hold his hand there until he gets the message of what you’re asking him to do, or rather giving him permission to do, and he hardens further with excitement. his fingers tighten at your scalp as he begins to fuck into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feel of your thick lips against the veins of his cock.

“hah – you’re so good to me,” he pants, pelvis fervently hitting your mouth as you do your best to relax your throat and take him as deeply as possible. he continues to babble, “f-fuck feels so good baby, i-i can’t stop.” he handles you roughly, hands tight and pace unrelenting, but you absolutely love when he’s this demanding with you.

you moan at his words, feeling yourself dampen in your panties, trying to let the vibrations hit him when he’s as deep as possible. you use your tongue to stroke the vein on the underside of his shaft, wanting to see your birthday boy come undone just for you. he bucks excitedly into your mouth, absolutely lost in the way your mouth attempts to accommodate every inch of him. 

“you take me so fucking well,” he whines, still fucking vigorously into your mouth, “your mouth was made for me to fuck, my perfect girl.”

rafayel’s vision blacks as you gulp around him, your throat constricting impossibly tight against his cock. the sounds of your guttural choking drive him to the edge, and when he looks down to see tears running down your gorgeous face and drool trailing down your chin, his erection lurches with the need to release deep down your throat. 

“m’gonna cum baby,” he warns, “you can take it all right? you can, you will.” 

you hum in response, and the vibrations send him over the edge. with his hands intertwined in your hair, rafayel lets out a strangled moan as he absolutely explodes into your waiting mouth. 

you do your best not to choke on the sheer amount of cum he releases, the sweet-salty taste blinding all your senses. you lick his cock diligently, working him through his climax, and savoring every last drop of his essence. 

he twitches with overstimulation inside your mouth, but still painfully hard. you release him and gasp for air, as stray rivulets of cum streak down your chin. rafayel bends down to lift you up off your knees, mesmerized by the fucked out look on your face, even though he’d only ravished your mouth. 

“that was incredible, you are incredible. i wasn’t too rough was i?” he inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

“you weren’t,” you reassured with a smile, turning to the mirror and sink behind him. 

“is your birthday night slightly better now?” you tease, fixing your appearance in the mirror. you wash the spit and cum from your chin, and then dab carefully at the dark smudges of makeup smeared under your eyes.

“i want my other gift now,” rafayel mumbles, coming up behind you and moving your dress to the side so that the slit parts and exposes the back of your thighs. 

“h-here?” you ask in disbelief, as if you didn’t just suck him off. but your risque streak had evaporated as fast as it had come, and now you quivered at the idea of having sex in this private, but still public, bathroom, with dozens of people outside likely looking for the artist himself. 

“can i please?” he pouts, and you can see his begging eyes behind you in the mirror, “it’s still my birthday for another few hours.” his hands fiddle with your dress impatiently, but still waiting for your consent nonetheless. “and i was so good tonight, talking to those people all night when all i  wanted was to be with you.”

your heart squeezes at his adorable pleas. you can’t deny the way the idea of rafayel taking you in this shared public space has you leaking. the hungry longing in his eyes, masked by the adorable puppy eyes, makes you cave. you nod gently, and rafayel’s instantly on his knees, burying himself under the tulle of your dress.

you can feel rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. “raf?” you whisper, breathless with anticipation. 

“when did you buy these?” you realize he’s admiring your panties, part of a set you’d bought to surprise him for his birthday. you’d nearly forgotten you wore it under your dress, wanting him to unwrap you like a present after the party. 

“happy birthday rafayel,” you giggle weakly, his breath fanning over your cunt, making you squirm. the purple haired artist is speechless under you, staring at the intricate embroidered sea stars and shells that adorned the turquoise semi sheer mesh, making it look like you were naked save for the beautiful applique. 

“you’re telling me you were wearing this under the dress?” you can tell rafayel was on the edge of going feral just by admiring the little knit shells against your most delicate region. you shivered thinking about how’d he’d act when he’d see the matching bra, hopefully later tonight. his words came out strained, as he tried his best to keep himself level. 

“it’s your birthday, and i wrapped myself up nicely for you,” you murmur, as you lean over the sink with your hands gripping the sides, waiting for him to finally do something. you almost want to step back and shove yourself into him, but you do your best to remain patient, letting him admire every inch of your lace clad cunt.

he swears, finally snapping out of his trance, “fuck, i will take my time with you later. right now i j-just need you.” you hiss as his fingers finally glaze over your no doubt glistening folds, the cold air nipping at your exposed and sensitive area. he pulls the intricate lace off of you, stuffing it into his pockets so as to not let them touch the floor.

you cry out when his lips find your dripping cunt, devouring you from behind. his strong fingers grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slightly to give him better access to his favorite dessert. like you yourself had earlier, he moans at the taste and his vibrations resonate straight to your g spot. your knees buckle at the pleasure, and you do your best to keep your moans muffled in case anyone was waiting outside the locked door.

rafayel fucks you with his tongue languidly, his hand reaching between your legs to rub at your throbbing nub. your eyes roll into your head, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down to stop the scream from ripping out.

rafayel is unhappy with your muffled cries of ecstasy, wanting to hear you in full. he stands to his full height, leaving you whimpering at the loss of his warmth against your dripping pussy. he stands, incredibly tall behind you, leaning into your ear.

“you know i hate it when you hide your noises from me,” he whispers, lining up his hardened length against your hole, bending you over the sink.

“i-i don’t want anyone to h-hear,” you stutter, grinding yourself onto his cock, wanting to be filled. 

rafayel rubs himself against you, gathering your slick and lathering it all over, “then i’ll just have to force them out of you, huh?” with that slight threat, he sheathes himself fully into you, you practically scream into your hand, except this time rafayel yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back firmly. your scream echoes against the walls of the bathroom, and you pray no one is outside the door. anyone within ten feet of the door would undoubtedly hear the lewd noises coming from inside the bathroom.

“let me hear you,” he purrs against your ear, thrusting slowly into your gummy walls. but still, you bite your lip, the idea of someone hearing you both mortifying and incredibly hot. 

his thrusts are rough and demanding, making you bump into the cold surface of the sink. with rafayel’s other hand he grabs your chin between his fingers and holds it up so that your eyes level with the mirror in front of you.

“watch. watch me fuck you baby,” his voice is so charismatic you can’t help but obey him. your eyes meet his in the mirror, as you watch his face contort as he fucked into your womb. he smirks at you, hands leaving your face when he’s sure you won’t look away, to grip your waist. his large hands manhandled you so deliciously, using your body like a toy against his ravaging strokes. 

watching rafayel’s cocky smile as he forced you to keep contact with his eyes through the mirror quickly drove you closer and closer to your climax, the excitement of it all unbearable. your moans echoed throughout the bathroom, the sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass deafening. 

rafayel ravages you with the intent to make you absolutely lose your mind. he wants you to moan so loudly that you can’t restrain your cries of pleasure, so that anyone outside could hear exactly what he was doing to you.

“that’s my – haah –fucking girl,” he moans, hand smacking against the ripples of your ass bouncing against him. you yelp at the contact, the pain mixing deliciously with the endless ecstasy. your walls sucked him in repeatedly, squeezing every inch of his length, trying to milk him. “taking me so so well. hah – look at you, spoiling me for my birthday.”

his palm gently strikes your rear again, “i must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. in this galaxy.” he reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes. 

“r-raf, feels s-sooo good,” you slurred, leaning backwards so you could reach up for his hair as he gripped you from behind. your bare back slotted tightly against his chest and your fingers gripped into his soft purple hair, tugging roughly. you laid your messy hair into his chest, and he rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder and neck, and the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. 

rafayel always put your pleasure above anything else, focussing on making you feel good before he even thought about himself. but your ecstasy was his pleasure. and so as he watched your face contort, eyes practically all whites, tongue lolling out of your beautiful lips, tears running down your face, his cock throbbed wanting to fill you to the absolute brim.

he was suddenly filled with the urge, the need to breed you. his woman, who’d dressed up just for him, in a set that was undoubtedly picked just to drive him insane. his love, who he spent the whole night admiring from across the room, when all he wanted for his birthday was to be with you. his girl, his everything, who’d spent weeks planning a whole night for him, even if it didn’t turn out the way he’d have wanted. 

well that wasn’t entirely true. it actually did turn out exactly the way he’d wanted, with you a wet whimpering mess for him, his cock stuffed inside you while you begged for more. this was in fact exactly how he wanted to spend every second of his birthday, inside you.

“you’re – hah – all mine,” he slurred, drunk off your pussy, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each stroke, “i’m gonna cum in you tonight, ‘kay?”

you nod eagerly, watching his feral expression in the mirror. his brows crinkled adorably, with his lip gripped tightly in his teeth. “you’re gonna – fuuck – walk around the rest of the night with my cum leaking out of you, okay baby?”

you clench at his filthy words, knowing he’s dead serious. amidst the lust filled haze, you’re so fucked out that nothing sounds better than that. the idea of having to mingle with so many people while rafayel’s claim to you literally drips down your legs is just enough to have you crying out for him, completely uninhibited.there was no doubt anyone even remotely near the bathroom would’ve heard the way you wailed and moaned for him.

you catch rafayel’s satisfied smirk in the mirror as he takes you repeatedly from behind, eyes still glued to yours. the heat in his blue-purple orbs is palpable, almost threatening to devour you whole, and your grip tightens in his hair. you pull him impossibly closer, straining your neck painfully so you can turn and kiss him. 

he leans in so you don’t have to bend too far backward, taking your lips passionately into his, even at this awkward angle. you slide your tongue into his mouth, wanting to take the teeniest bit of control as his cock burrowed its way into your stomach, claiming every inch of your gummy walls. 

rafayel moaned at the feeling of your sweet tongue flickering against his, letting you explore his mouth. he was happy to relinquish control, even if only slightly, especially if it meant he could watch the way your face contorted at every little movement he made. 

the mirror made things exponentially more erotic, the way he could see his girl blissed out in front of him, and admire every single angle and aspect of you taking him so beautifully. the way you could watch each other, watch the way your bodies made absolute art together. 

as your tongues danced, your cunt clenched in anticipation, wanting desperately to release all over him. 

“r-raf,” you pant, “m’so close.” 

“m-me too love,” he ground into your ear, teeth gritting on the brink of pain, “gonna paint your beautiful little pussy ‘kay?”

you nod vigorously, eyes shutting as you feel the orgasm creeping up on you and igniting every nerve ending on fire. you gasp as you feel rafayel’s fingers gently grip your throat, squeezing just enough to have sparks ignite in your vision. 

“watch,” he commanded forcefully, a rough demand you so rarely heard lacing his alluring musical voice, “need you to watch when i pump you full of my seed, okay love?”

you force your eyes to stay open, watching the primal expression on his face as his thrusts go deeper, harder. he forces himself into brushing harshly into your g spot, his free hand returning to rub ruthless circles onto your soaked clit. 

you scream out when he touches you, every single point of contact an endless tsunami of pleasure. his eyes command yours, forcing you to watch every single thing he does to your body. 

“god you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re gonna – hah – look even more beautiful with my baby inside you.”

your eyes widen at his words, lust getting the better of your usually sound judgment as you clench uncontrollable around his throbbing cock. he hisses at the harsh squeeze.

“such a greedy girl,” he huffs breathlessly into your earlobe, nibbling down gently, “you want to be a mommy that bad? you’re trying to – hah fuck –  squeeze it out of me?” 

his words push you tumbling into your body numbing orgasm. you’re unable to hold back the scream that wrenches from deep in your throat, rafayel’s fingers still gripping forcefully. 

“oh god, m’cumming raf, cumming so hard,” you wail, body fluttering around him uncontrollably and knees going weak. rafayel holds you steady so that you don’t crash into the floor as he continues to fuck into your body, so close to his own unraveling. he only grunts in response, losing himself in the tightness and warmth of your grip on him.

“please, please, please!” you beg, wanting him to give you everything he has. you’re still in the thick of your orgasm and you wracked with the absolute need to feel him all over your insides. 

rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, “sh-shit y/n, if you keep s-squeezing like that i’m gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

“y-yes please. raf please. i need you s’bad,” you cry as he stares at you in the mirror, refusing to let go of eye contact. you’re desperate to feel him release inside you while you’re still in the midst of your own climax.

“o-okay love, anything for my needy little princess,” he groans out, before unleashing the most unholiest of swears, erection faltering inside you and trembling as it unloads completely. 

rafayel grips you for dear life as he cums inside you, his load hot, thick, and unrelenting. his hand is still at your throat as he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot and warm on your skin. you watch the euphoria on his face as he continues to rock into you, his copious release already leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

you reel, feeling faint and short of breath, as you come down from your high, still leaning back into rafayel’s sturdy stature. his arms move to wrap securely around you, kissing the curve of your neck as his languid thrusts slow to a stop. 

“you’re the best birthday present ever,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck and inhaling your pheromones, absolutely drunk off of you. he removes himself from the warmth of your cunt, and you whimper as your combined release comes rushing down your thighs, your poor pussy just unable to hold the sheer amount of release rafayel had pumped into you.

you try your best to smooth your dress, grabbing some paper towels to wipe your thighs off. but rafayel stops you, his fingers gentle but firm against your wrist.

“what are you doing?” he’s smirking at you, so much mischievous light in his eyes. he fishes your panties out of his pocket and hands them to you expectantly. 

“put them back on,” he grins at you, looking absolutely and devilishly handsome despite having just ravaged you thoroughly. you on the other hand looked like a mess, like you’d undoubtedly just been fucked. 

you’re about to whine and complain, but you bite it back, wanting to please your birthday boy. sighing, you lift your dress, slowly slipping the panties back on. you wince as the fabric dampens, pushing the release back into your sopping cunt.

“let me see.” rafayel is on his knees in between your legs again before you know it, widening the slit of your gown. he admires you for a good ten seconds, before kissing your inner thighs and rising back to his feet. 

“are you satisfied?” you tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs. 

“hmm…i guess you’re a little forgiven…'' he feigns being deep in thought, scratching his chin with his fingers, “i expect many more presents when i take you home tonight.”

you lean up on your tiptoes, even in your heels rafayel still towered over you, and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. you giggle at the way even the softest kiss has his ears and cheeks turning deeply pink. “there will be many more presents for you waiting at home. of the naked variety.”

you thoroughly enjoy the way rafayel shys away from your eyes, the crimson on his face deepening. his excitement is evident by the way he has to readjust his dress pants, and he clears his throat trying to calm himself down. 

“you’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

“will i?” you can’t stop teasing him, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you whip around as gracefully as you can, slipping out of the bathroom and leaving him thoroughly frazzled behind you.

–

you spend the rest of the night trying to mingle with rafayel’s guests, and trying your best to ignore the way rafayel’s cosmic eyes track your every move. the way you feel like he can see right through your layers and layers of tulle, and see his milky white essence dripping slowly down your thighs. 

he grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. and when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day.

© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡

tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

hii can i please request a scenario of xavier x reader secretly dating (office dating kinda) but got found out by someone because of something they did out of habit? love your writings btw🤩

Dear jeondyy,

Thank you for the request <3 I hope you like this little fluffy story <3

Your Little Secret —He never wants to be just your little secret.

ಇ. Xavier x Female Reader

ಇ. Tags: fluff, office dating, secret dating

ಇ. Word count: ~1k8

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

Recently, Tara "sensed" something was going on at headquarters, and she was determined to uncover the mystery.

At first, things were not clear to Tara; she just had a faint impression that her peers were changing in ways she was unaware of. After many days of observation, she reached a stunning conclusion:

“Xavier is definitely dating!”

You coughed out the mouthful of water you had just drunk, prompting the computer screen in front of you to get wet. Tara looked at you with suspicious eyes:

“What's wrong with you?”

You quickly grabbed a piece of tissue from the table to wipe your face, avoiding Tara's inquisitive gaze.

"Ah… no… Nothing…" You murmured in answer. "I was just… a little surprised why you thought Xavier was dating…"

Your attention swiftly turned to the opposite side of the office, where Xavier was seated with his chin resting on the desk, his eyes half-closed as if having a nap.

"I have proof!" Tara continued, then moved her foot to push her chair closer to you. Raising one hand as a covert gesture, Tara whispered into your ear. “Xavier hadn't been to headquarters too frequently before. Every mission was sent particularly to him. However, he is now arriving at work on a regular basis and leaving late. Isn't that suspicious?”

You nodded in accord to please Tara. She spoke more: “There are also a few other miscellaneous things... Like phone charms! That adorable rabbit charm was definitely given to him by a girl!”

Your face turned pale. You glanced at the phone on your desk before swiftly grabbed and stuffed it into the pocket of your jacket. However, Tara caught the act. She lifted her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Xavier is undoubtedly dating. I just need to find out who his girlfriend is!”

A shiver ran through your body. Tara was concerned by the look and asked:

“Are you sure you're okay? You look pale!”

“Maybe… it's because the air conditioning here is a bit low… Um… I'll adjust it!”

After saying that, you rose up and went away. When you reached the vacant balcony and looked down at the city of Linkon beneath your feet, you breathed a sigh of relief. Your hand went into the jacket and took out the phone and held it up high. A phone charm shaped like a white cotton bunny swung in front of you.

It was a pair, with one dangling from Xavier's phone.

Simply put; Xavier's mysterious girlfriend whom Tara was looking for was you. It all started a month ago, when he and you formally began dating…

"You want to keep us a secret?" Xavier inquired, his tone somewhat disappointed.

"Yes… I believe we should focus on work for the time being. Captain Jenna also stated that office dating should be limited..."

Xavier was quiet for a long time. You felt like you'd let him down so much. He took a brief peek outside the window before returning his attention to you.

“If you want it that way, so be it.”

"Thank you!" You shouted, along with that a feeling of relief in your heart.

“But,” Xavier said abruptly, and you began to faintly sense the constraints tied to his agreement to do what you desired. “Outside of working hours or at places where there are no colleagues, I can touch you, I can hold your hand or embrace you as much as I want!”

You blushed. Your body was still adjusting to Xavier's unexpected touches, but you had to confess that you were anticipating them a lot.

"Okay. Just outside the workplace environment..."

Before you could finish speaking, Xavier came closer and placed a somewhat fierce kiss on your lips. Knowing that he had to suffer a disadvantage by playing the role of your secret lover in this manner, you accepted his sulking and promised yourself that you would find an appropriate occasion to inform everyone about the relationship between the two of you.

Tara, however, was one step ahead. You had no clue when she first noticed Xavier's alterations; all you knew was that once she started, she would not stop until his secret was out into the light.

Afraid that Tara would notice your phone charm was paired with Xavier's, you removed it and kept it at home. The following days, when he noticed you weren't using it, he inquired:

“Where is the bunny hanging on your phone?”

“Ah… I put it away… Everyone at headquarters will notice we have matching stuff.”

Xavier said nothing more after hearing your explanation. You just noticed him softly clutching his bunny charm. That pair of phone charms was a present you got from the claw machines at the arcade on a date. Looking around the home, you realized you had kept a lot of lovely ornaments from your dates.

Among them were two pairs of house slippers with bunny plushies on top that Xavier must have intentionally brought his own to work.

“See those slippers? This means he's definitely dating!” Tara mumbled to herself next to you. “Why do they look like some of the slippers given away at the arcade nearby?”

Tara turned to look at you for support, but all she saw was your bloodless face and your fingers squeezing the pen as if you wanted to shatter it in half.

When you got home that day, you interrogated Xavier.

“Why did you wear those slippers to work?”

He calmly replied: “I don't like wearing Hunter's boots forever. My legs need to rest as well. So I brought it to headquarters for more comfort.”

“You… You could have chosen another pair!”

You sighed. Xavier gave a triumphant half-smile: "You're worrying too much. As long as you don't bring your pair to headquarters, Tara won't find out. Just let her run around assuming things.”

“You don't cooperate at all!” You said with a bit of frustration. As soon as you turned to leave, Xavier grabbed your wrist and drew you into his arms, holding you tightly.

“I merely agreed to keep our relationship a secret, therefore I won't tell anyone that my girlfriend is you. It's not my fault if someone figures it out on their own, right?"

He was right, to the point where your argument would be invalid. You stood still as he held and kissed you. To be honest, keeping this love story a secret proved to be challenging for you, especially since all you wanted to do was shout for the entire world to know, Xavier was yours.

Tara and you used to go out to dinner or have boba tea together after work before dating Xavier. But since having Xavier in your life, you had to continuously refuse Tara's offers, which made her suspicious.

“Where are you going after work?”

"Huh? Where am I going? I just go straight home? I've been a bit tired lately..."

Tara cast you a distrustful glance. "You're not hiding yourself on a date with some guy, are you?!"

You tensed up in your office chair, startled. You feigned to concentrate on the report in front of you, without responding to Tara. She refused to let this go, staring at you with the attitude of a tiger seeking its prey.

You thought that this ought to end.

That evening, as scheduled, you met Xavier at the arcade. You decided to cease meeting after work and go home with him for a while, at least until you completed the upcoming mission. Captain Jenna entrusted you with immense responsibility and did not forget to emphasize that any distractions, especially dating, should be terminated. But you understood that this also meant breaking his heart.

Xavier gripped your hand strongly as you strolled through the arcade. You hadn't said anything to him since you were still trying to find the right words. But he appeared to already know what you were thinking.

“If you're worried about the next mission, we can take a break from dating for now…”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn't believe Xavier had just proposed it out of concern for you. But before you could react, a very familiar voice echoed from the enormous white teddy bear on one side of the path.

“Ha! I caught you both red-handed!”

Tara's face emerged behind the bear's arm. She went out, stood in front of you and Xavier, even pointed at you.

"You two just admitted it yourself!"

"Tara…" You called out, but she was furious.

"And you?! For so long you knew what I was suspecting, but you never said a word! You didn't bother to tell me YOU. ARE. DATING. XA-VI-ER!”

"Oh Tara, please keep your voice down a bit…" You clasped her hand, hoping to soothe her rage. “I was going to tell you… But it's not the right time yet…”

“So how long are you going to hide this from me? Am I your best friend? I'm so disappointed! Extremely disappointed!”

Tara backed away from you and folded her arms across her chest. You turned to Xavier for aid, but he feigned to know nothing, while it was all thanks to his "accidental" clues that she easily discovered this secret.

“I'm really sorry, Tara… Honestly, I'm worried how everyone at headquarters will react when they find out that Xavier and I are… dating…” When the words came out of your lips, telling others about you and Xaiver, you felt both fluttering and thrilled. Looking to the side, the corner of his mouth twisted up into a smile.

“Now you know my reaction!” Tara was still pouting. “You two will have to bribe me if you want my help keeping this a secret!”

"Of course." You smiled conciliatory while embracing Tara's arm. “Shall I buy you some boba tea?”

"For one month." Tara raised her finger and replied. “You will pay for all the boba tea I'll have for a whole month. The revelation that two of Linkon's top Hunters are dating will be surprising, you know! Who could guess what Captain Jenna would say about this.”

"Alright. One month it is." On the outside you were smiling, but on the inside, you were grieving for this month's earnings. “Will you help us keep it a secret until I finish my next mission?”

Tara nodded cheerfully. You sighed with relief and looked at Xavier. He smiled at you. His fingers intertwined with yours. t felt lovely to be able to freely hold his hand in public. Perhaps now you could see why Xavier never intended to keep this relationship a secret from the start.

Pictures are from X

— MASTERLIST

( is a blood diamond flawless but for that one thing ? )

KEY : ✨️ - kei's favourites | ☀️ – fluff | 🌻 – angst

— TEARS OF THEMIS

.: VYN RICHTER ┆ ADJUDICATOR

+ general relationship headcanons ☀️ + morning routines ☀️ + going on dates ☀️ + things that remind me of vyn ☀️ + & we've done this all before ✨️☀️ + all answers are within the dog (pet owner hcs) ☀️

.: ARTEM WING ┆ LIBRA

+ things that remind me of artem ☀️ + all answers are within the dog (pet owner hcs) ☀️

.: LUKE PEARCE ┆RAVEN

+ things that remind me of luke 🌻

.: MARIUS VON HAGEN ┆ KING

+ things that remind me of marius ☀️

— GENSHIN IMPACT

.: KAEYA ALBERICH ┆ PAVO OCELLUS

+ oh how the mighty fall (in love) | demon!kaeya ✨️☀️🌻

.: WRIOTHESLEY ┆ CERBERUS

+ i'll take care of you / it's rotten work ✨️☀️🌻

— LOVE & DEEPSPACE

.: RAFAYEL / QI YU (祁煜) ┆ ABYSSWALKER

+ general relationship headcanons ☀️✨️

+ wait for me / i'm still somewhere 🌻✨️

+ swim with me ... (post-myth abysswalker hcs) ☀️🌻✨️

+ the pain of tenderness is the wound of love (birthday) ☀️✨️

A World For Her Alone | Ptolemaea

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

cw (chapter specific): pregnancy, childbirth, dubcon, death, the aftermath of severe abuse, slavery, derealization (?), the general ennui of noble marriage

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: Men! Don't they always think of "the one that got away"?

author's note: Girlfail Barbie and Catholic guilt ken or whatever the kids are saying idk.

When he returned to life again, he was haunted by a fervor to change things. He was a desperate animal caught in a trap, biting his own limb in a bid to escape. He’d languished too long in the inevitable misery that befell him again and again and again. This time, he told himself again, it would be different. He considered readying a horse to come and warn you about this thing that had overtaken him but there were obvious flaws in the plan such as; what if he saw Diana and was besotted again before he had the chance to tell you everything? Even if he succeeded what was he to say to you? What would you be able to do that you had not already attempted? How could you break this hold? What would your knowledge of his predicament mean against something that felt so primordial, something that compelled him to kill you?

What measure could be taken to change this? The last few minutes before he would have to bring himself to truly live this life, he spent at his desk, resigned to writing a missive.

For some reason, this life’s distinctions were more prominent. Firstly, it felt like reality was itself melting, sliding off its center to be remolded around him in the blink of an eye like candle wax. There were times where he forgot that his body wasn’t his own, that he identified with that darkness that puppeteered his body with grotesque ease. Things in that life had an unreal quality to them as if a fever dream he’d soon wake from. The horror of this life was softer, it was brighter, sweeter. He no longer begged for mercy, he only phased into the void that had become him deeper and deeper until he could no longer claim the pain he experienced as his own. He fell in love with Diana again, everything was wrong but he gave himself to the faltering, glitching reality that provided his distraction.

Had he only imagined it or had you become close with your sister in this life? It was unthinkable to him that you would, remembering all the pain she had caused you, still seem to love and look after her. It was a gesture that horrified him, the depths of your magnanimity, your forgiveness were hard for him to handle. Where was the rage you were due? Where was the lady he’d known before? Where had that livid and mournful glint in your eyes, like the silver pommel of the kitchen knife he’d nearly stabbed you with, that had appeared the life after your daughter had been born? Its sudden disappearance was an omen, he was convinced. Now, your eyes were soft as a saint’s, it was a sweet look of righteous suffering. Yours was the look of a martyr.

He was too late to save you, that look told him as much. You were a woman going to into the flame, worn and deprived of her fight; of the vicious urge for retribution. You were the dregs of a woman, bent to the shape of the realities you’d inhabited. Bent partial to Diana. This peace between sisters had come at a cost he would only live to know in your next life. 

You tutored Diana, persistently, pushing her to learn more always. You two spent a great deal at each other’s sides and Claude was aware that even though in previous lives, you’d suffered criticism for not being close enough with your sister; now you were seen as an overbearing older sister pushing her poor, helpless little sister to always do more. He could not really grasp at reality strong enough to muster more outrage at the world which now seemed to be a mindless chorus, for their hypocrisy. Curiously, though, his greater self was pleased at your conduct and ignored the slanderous chatter. The darkness was sated by your concern for your sister and it thanked you by not making efforts to exclude you, he was still flirting with Diana quite openly, to be sure, but it was much less careless. It felt more as if the two of them were not hiding, not rebelliously defying, but expressing themselves easily before you, knowing that your bite had gone soft, your eyes like that of the rest of their world; understanding how important Diana was.

As the date of your wedding approached, something bad was going to happen. He felt it or perhaps he heard it whispered in the static of a reality which was falling down on top of him all the time. It sat in the pit of his stomach, an anxious ache that never soothed, a wound he could feel festering even when the rush of love for Diana flooded his careworn mind. 

Days before your wedding, he was informed that you’d run away. A strange sort of grief did come over him by way of his false heart, his greater self almost seemed to mourn you. To him, and the distinction between his two selves in that moment had never been clearer, it felt as though you’d betrayed him. You’d made him care for you, if only in the slightest and most shallow way possible and then you vanished. You promised to marry him, to make a good wife to him, marchioness to his people and mother to his children. You smiled in his face each time you met and spoke to him with clear affection but you abandoned the future the two of you had painstakingly prepared with years of effort. Like he was nothing. Like the unspoken understanding, the ease that had been built was nothing at all. It disoriented this vast, arrogant creature, it felt to this monstrous part of him like trickery, like deprivation. 

His true self knew that this was not the bad thing he’d anticipated. If it were, the seed of anxiety planted in his mind would have finally given way to the deeper misery he knew was to follow and set him free of his fearful, agonizing waiting. But he was still wound tightly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You running away from him was not the bad thing; what fate would make you pay for it, was. He had seen this part before, he knew it ended in blood. So he hoped, at least, you got to run quite far before it did. Before reality closed around its status quo again.

Out of obligation and the longtime investment made from his family to yours, he needed to marry a lady of your house. Since you were gone, it fell to Diana to fulfill this duty. This life, Diana had been educated suitably enough to be a marchioness, for theirs not to be an ill-fated marriage for the territory. Claude realized that this must have been by design, it was your insistent effort that led to her being educated so efficiently. He’d heard talk of you seeming to bully her with how much you pushed her to learn. This was your design. You had always planned to run and leave the two of them to what the fates clearly wanted to happen. Although it was an ache in his chest that you were gone, the more pressing feeling was a forlorn emptiness at the fact that he knew how it would end and he could do nothing to stop it.

On the day he married Diana, it was bright and cloudless, surely indicative of the sort of marriage he was to have with her. Her cheeks were flushed with the enduring surprise of being able to marry him but also with surpassing happiness. But did he only hallucinate a crow flying swiftly across the pale morning sky, casting a shadow on them briefly? He could not know. He retained little of his wedding to Diana. After all, it was a frightening thing, this end. This thing he’d been fighting for so long had caught up to him, it had won, or it would in time. It felt like he was further trapped in a labyrinth where before he could at least the see the sky above, now he was completely hidden in the belly of the beast with no end in sight. Everything was Diana. Everything always would be. 

The defiling of his will and dignity would be ritual, it would dutiful and nightly. It would loving and soft. It would give him the very precious heirs his people counted on him to provide. It would make a mother of Diana, something she had so desperately wanted as he recalled. In time, he was sure to soften to the ordeal, his despair would only be monotonous, dull, unable to rip open any wounds due to the scar tissue of all his lives prior. This was marriage, he kept telling himself. This was marriage. 

Even so, a peculiar thing did happen: Claude had a group of his knights search for you for as long as fiscally reasonable. For two years, he had his knights span out following possible traces of your existence. It was not his own will, his own words that left his mouth but it was so different from everything this thing that puppeteered him had done before. It had showed you sparse concern even when it was in regards to his heir, the thing that should have come before anything. But now, he found that he demanded his knights search for your whereabouts with ease long after your family gave up the pretense. He did so not out of a fervent desire for revenge, the fury of one who had been robbed of something, it was done out of a sort of grief. A sort of desperation to hold to a woman who disappeared into thin air, to reach through the distance and claim the answers you denied.

Claude’s marriage to Diana in the meantime, was not as he imagined the fates would have it be. Of course there was love and affection, of course there was even a constructed desire within him and of course he suffered it inwardly. But there was something that haunted both of them too, a ghost slipped between them always. A ghost who functioned like a scary story for children, whose name being spoken accidentally was just enough to breathe life back into her, just enough to allow her to haunt them. At first, Diana told him that perhaps you had someone you ran away to be with and even his body in the cold hands of his greater self, rejected the notion. He wondered what could ever have given her such an idea, that a woman so meek and truly devoted would have been having an affair. Even that time you left with your knight he didn’t truly believe there was anything between you, it was a desperate measure to escape just like this time. He almost seemed to recoil from her when she spoke of it, it was nothing more than a subtle shift in the air, in his expression but for the first time, Diana seemed to have noticed it even if she did not acknowledge it with words. The message was clear from his expression, the change in tone and the sudden tepidness between them; your escape was to be a sore subject.

It changed the dynamic between them a bit but being married had also done that well enough. Diana was a marchioness who had a certain countenance to keep up, work to do and places to go. She was no longer the vulnerable, tender, helplessly ill girl who begged him to be her reason for continuing on. She now had purpose of her own. None of this displeased his greater self too severely but it did change things between them. No longer were they truly knight and princess. They lived in the real world now as Marquis and Marchioness. It was not like it was with you but it was…changed. A sense of duty settled within her, he got the feeling. She walked with her head higher, her emotions that were once vibrant and expressive on her face were dimmed to a polite mask of a half smile. It was bizarre to see her so grown up.

The ritual degrading practice of lovingly bedding the wife who shouldn’t have been his, seemed to have an odd effect on him this time around. Where before he was able to separate himself, he felt this time he fell deeper into the reality of his situation the longer he was married to Diana. Each time he lay back onto the bed, skin tacky with both their sweat, he was able to physically feel the horror that came with the long line of years that would stretch out between them. Each time he returned to reality enough to feel the result of having just been inside her, he was hit with dread as if time could never dull it. Where before he could only consider the implications of the freshly committed betrayal of you and of his own mind, now he could see a greater picture being painted. This was to be his life from then on, laying back onto his side of the bed with a relieved sigh and cuddling her close speaking of children to be born. While inside, he ceaselessly clawed at the walls, a mad prisoner no longer considering freedom an option, desiring death.

And in those moments, he also thought of you. He thought of where you’d gone. A long time had passed and a long time would pass before you’d see him again. He wondered whether you were living happily somewhere, could it be? Could it really not be that you were somewhere happily living even if just until the blade swinging deftly above your head finally fell? He was the most desperate of men and he imagined it as if a fairytale, a lullaby to take him into a fitful sleep before he would wake and live a life circling around the very tarnishment of both your souls. 

At some point he had slipped somewhere. His manner with Diana, although loving to be sure, was whetted to a slight sharpness. It was a strange nuance that he had only realized after years of marriage passed by with him gone inward to your memory. A chill had come to the marquisate that no fire would warm. It started in a small way, in your name slipping out every so often when he spoke of Diana whilst she was not in his presence. It was forgivable, no one spoke ill. But…it progressed to thoughts of you that were shared with his greater mind. A peculiar thing that shook him free of the derealization that came with this sort of monotony in misery. He realized that his thoughts came in one stream, instead of parallel and distinctive. He realized that above his own heart aching, the one that beat for Diana stung for…for something he had once and now could have no more.

Diana seemed to know. Your ghost was no longer benign, you were an active member of the household. Everyday, at some point as he and Diana spoke, he got the sense that she wanted to broach a topic but couldn’t, out of some fear that even speaking of it would harden it to truth. Some insecurity she desperately wanted him to soothe was instead locked away, tamed in fear that it could only be confirmed. It was as if mentioning you at all was a taboo. Claude parsed the difference between this Diana and the ones who came before when he was about the enter the library but heard voices.

“Madame, is it really okay to leave things like this?,” sounded the voice of one of Diana’s servants. The woman had a habit of forming such inappropriate bonds, the two became friends when Diana entered the marquisate as its new mistress. She would have known such a friendship would be unseemly but even so, it was hard for a woman such as Diana to live as a marchioness, beneath a mask as all noblewomen did, without someone she needn’t bother using it with. Claude had not been able to deny her that much. 

Claude had paused in the hall when he heard the voice of Diana. He knew why he’d done so, for once, his minds were in tentative agreement. He had come there to think, to be alone with your memory. That day was the anniversary of your disappearance and he wanted to ask the definitive question again and again, until he could put it to rest for the next time. Diana could not be there for his mourning, he did not want her there, more than that. His still heart did love Diana very much, such had not changed, but this time, you were not so easily forgotten. A stain on his heart that should not be there…he knew his wife would see it in his demeanor, his brooding expression and no matter how many times she’d tried to ignore the poignance of the date, it always revealed itself to be stark and imposing.

Diana replied to the servant in a rather genuine tone, “He is a wonderful husband. He has done nothing worthy of reproach.”

Something kept him listening, he could not parse what because his greater self was too busy considering the words that had been, were being and would be spoken between the two women. 

“It is…unseemly, for a married man to cling so much to a memory.” The maid sounded as if she wanted to use a word more derogatory than just “unseemly,”

“It cannot be helped,” Diana sighed. “She was his fiancee for much of his life, of course he is still devastated, compared to how long they’ve known each other, the wound is still fresh.”

“Even so, he has you, Madame. Why does he sulk and think of a woman who left him, ran out on him days before their wedding when he has a woman who has loved him faithfully?”

“Don’t ever speak that way, Maude. She is my sister, she is not some random noble you can insult carelessly,” Diana said, with as much sharpness as her voice could carry. “In any case…it is not so simple.”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn but I fail to understand why it is not simple.”

“It cannot be simple. He is grieving. He and I wed so soon after, before he was able to gather his bearings, even. He may love me more than he ever loved my sister but it is still a loss of something I cannot replace. Who I am as his wife is entwined with that grief as a matter of course, it is simply the star our marriage fell under.”

“Have you ever considered confronting the lord, Madame? Forgive me again for saying so, but I just…after what you found, I don’t believe this is as it seems.”

He could hear the weak smile in Diana’s voice, the suddenly infused lightheartedness. “Oh, I could never do that. Then he’d known I was poking my nose where I shouldn’t have been and even so, I still don’t completely understand what it could mean. Whether a confession or something else, I don’t understand what his intentions were. I…I’m comfortable with never understanding if it means I never have the chance of finding a more unsettling thought beneath.”

“Madame…,” The maid’s voice sounded helpless and full of pity which struck an odd chord within him. A hatefulness unearned, small and weak to be sure but definitely present. At the same time, his heart sunk. He knew all at once exactly what she’d found, what gave her this wariness aside from his small actions. A fractured piece of reality appeared again as if it had never been missing, with the seamlessness of a dream. The letter…it seemed worlds away, it genuinely shocked him to hear what he thought was a reference to it. It hit him as if he’d heard her casually mention she’d been killed a few times over. And there was that pinprick of anger toward her for even knowing about such a thing, from both parts of him for different reasons. For telling her maid and garnering pity that should by rights go to the lost sister whose family had not even looked for her for longer than a month. In his greater self’s mind, for tainting the relief he was capable of feeling when he looked to her even more than it already had been with this. He could not even remember what he’d said but he knew it was something she should not know, it felt so viscerally wrong for her to have read words meant for your eyes. And undoubtedly, though he knew not what words he wrote, he cursed his love her in some manner. 

But he took a deep breath and walked away before she could find him eavesdropping and bring it up to him. Something had….changed, he felt. Irreparably so. There was a certain synchrony between his two selves in a way there had never been before and something between he and Diana had shifted because of it. More noticeably this time, there was distance. 

Diana found that she was pregnant with their first child soon after and there was as much apprehension in him as there was joy. Reality glitched all the time for him during the pregnancy, memories of you, of her, of previous lives intruded on his senses. Something about her being with child frightened him. His vision was often intercut with visions of the past, of your body, slowly seeping blood and still warm while the wails of your daughter fell on deaf ears. He heard Diana’s anguished crying, giving birth to a son who wasn’t certain to live. This foreboding and regret did not extend to his greater self who found other reasons to feel a note of fear at the thought of having a child with Diana. There was a desperation in that part of him, to make things right again, to make them what they’d been before when they were only illicit, courtly lovers. And even still, he knew it would not be. He could pray as much as he liked, he knew that for however loved and wanting this child would be, he would still be reminded of a future he’d lost with you.

Why was he still so concerned about you when you were not the woman he loved? He could not shut the door on your memory not matter how much he wanted to. Was it as Diana said? Was it because he’d known you so longer? He couldn’t think so. It was not like him to be sentimental because of time. Perhaps, he thought, it could be because of how you behaved in the year before you ran away. You treated Diana with a special kindness, you turned a blind eye to the obvious love between them and you ran away just short of your own wedding knowing that she’d…she’d had to marry him in your stead…You had done it on purpose. You had primed her to wed him, you knew what they had and you made it possible by abandoning your whole life. That revelation filled him with some unknown mixture of feelings that he could not stand. It was always to be a thorn in his heart, he would always remember who he owed this life to. And how could he be happy with that as he should be? How could he be happy not knowing why you allowed it to be and where you had gone now? How could you grant such an act of selflessness and disappear? You clearly didn’t want to be found. Why?

The more he thought of you, the more ennui he felt with his life with Diana. Their marriage was haunted by the shadow of your sacrifice. The day his child was born, a daughter, it was a night just like the one where your parents informed him you’d run away. Again his apprehension surpassed his joy when Diana went into labor, he’d paced anxiously outside in the hall listening to her sounds of pain while he looked out the window at the moon which hung in the sky like a being in its own right, watching him apathetically. He tried to get your memory out of his system before his daughter came into the world. He just…he just wished for that moment to be theirs alone. When their daughter was born, healthy and crying loudly from the terrible newness of the world, Diana held her to her chest, crying soft tears of her own at the newness of motherhood. Although his happiness was great, it was edged in something that could not be ignored, something which he felt tainted the moment in some way. He thought again on the night you disappeared and again asked himself where you could be, what you could be doing, did you have children of your own now? Somehow, he hoped you did. It would hurt him badly to know you had children with another man, love or no love between he and you, but he still wanted you to have that much. But that wasn’t the thought that truly cemented the fact that he and Diana would never have a moment that belonged to them again. It was actually the fact that when he first set eyes on his daughter, he looked for your face in hers.

He was glad Diana had been looking down at their daughter at that moment, perhaps if she’d looked up just then, she’d have caught a glimpse of that yearning in his eyes. He cried and thanked her for giving him a child, making him a father and it was genuine gratitude but the tears, the tears were for what was lost and what was left of you which endured. And inside, he dwelled in anguish because what remained of his true self was further broken, disillusioned by the fact that this child that he so pitifully wanted to avoid, had been born. She would live, her name written in his family registry, raised with careful hands and more love than most. She would live well and your child, he one who knew she’d lost you and had the only sensible reaction to it, her name was yet unknown. 

As the years passed, Claude and Diana settled into life as parents. He realized that what Diana expected of him as a father simply didn’t come naturally, he was not an overtly affectionate person in general for anyone but Diana. This did not compute to her, and of course it didn’t, with her having your parents excessive favor and then with the underlying hair thin cracks in their marriage. She required his gestures to be grander, she required more assurance of his love. So, he got more comfortable with it for her sake, he made his affection more theatrical for her, though it felt more like wearing a different mask more than it felt like actually changing who he was. He didn’t exactly know how to be a father, his own wasn’t much of an example, he felt awkward and clumsy with it on his own but he knew how to emulate with the best of them. As was necessary for life as an aristocrat. This had the inadvertent effect of raising his daughter feeling less personal, less of a bond. It felt more like everything else in his life as a nobleman did, false and procedural. And there was the fact that both his selves were reminded of you when they looked at her, inevitably, even if only for a split second each time. One side reminded of what once was and one side reminded of what could have been. 

Luckily, the child was much like her mother and did not comprehend the difference. She was young yet, and still he feared she would not go to him, that she’d cry and fuss in his arms, rejecting him instinctively. Sometimes, Claude felt worried that one day when she was older, she’d look to him for comfort, so he would put forth his best image but she’d see something in him that would tell her how false he was. But it never happened, the child slept easy in his arms and though Diana pouted a bit, she was amused her daughter was a daddy’s girl just as she was. Everything was alright, especially compared to some very frigid noble marriages he’d hear gossip about before. It seemed that the two of them had reached a mutual, unspoken agreement. They’d never talk about what they lacked, they’d take consolation in what they had managed to keep even if it wasn’t what it used to be. 

They went on like that. The time passed quickly, reality seemed to melt, not with hard glitches but the lines blurred together. It got to the point where he felt that the date of your disappearance was not years past but minutes ago. He felt as though he were in the night trailing after you, shouting your name just as much as he felt like an ordinary father with the wife he coveted for so long. His body vibrated with a dull hum and at night when he laid beside Diana to sleep, lights flashed beneath his eyelids as if a candle were lit before him. He would come home and hold his daughter in his arms and still feel as though his breath would come out in a puff from the cold, feel as though something had only just been taken. Every so often the child he held felt foreign to him. He could not even recognize which side of him the feeling belonged to, he was not sure it mattered now. Perhaps this was the real end. Maybe you’d gotten away happily and it was his punishment this time to never feel what he should even when he had what he wanted. He could accept that much, he thought with more peace than he deserved in the delusion. 

Of course it was when he accepted the idea of living without you that he came back. A messenger was sent, hesitant to relay the information that Felix and a few of his comrades had been tracking your whereabouts independently from the orders of your parents. You’d been found, barely alive, trapped in an establishment of very ill repute, worked as a slave. 

This news was enough to devastate and selfishly relieve him. You were alive. You had been worked nearly to death. You were supposed to have lived well enough, perhaps a simple, rustic life as a merchant’s wife with children born of love always at your skirts. “Will she live?” His voice broke. 

The messenger shook his head. “We don’t know, my lord. We only know that the count and countess are receiving her soon.”

Claude almost didn’t bother telling Diana, rushing to find a servant to have a horse prepared so that he could ride there and see you for himself. Until he was met with Diana who entered the room, seeing her family’s sigil on the sleeve of the messenger and he had to tell her. Yes, that was right…It was Diana who’d lost more than he had when you left. Of course it was necessary to tell her first. Somehow, it disappointed him to not be able to see you alone. To know that inevitably, Diana would want to see you and she’d bring along their daughter whom she couldn’t be without. All manner of frenzied feelings were passing through his greater self but prominently, there was a distinct, selfish desire to see you again. A thought that perhaps it would fix everything that has been wrong with him since you ran away. And concurrently ran the sharp anguish of his inner self which had awakened from its comfortable misery. Again in this life, you had suffered for his sake. He could not seem to stop stealing your life again and again and again. What had been done to you? What had you suffered while he raised a child that wasn’t yours? Deprived of your status and kept as a slave; oh, the image his mind had painted from what he knew of such things from his knighthood was a grotesque one. You, who had already been stripped of everything several times over, deprived even of the safety in your noble status. The only thing that made being born to such a family as yours, tied to such a fate as his more bearable, that you’d not be subject to all the cruelties of the world, only the ones he could inflict. 

Diana’s eyes grew large and clouded over as he told her what news had arrived. He stiffened at this, hypocritically suspicious of her concern. He felt a pinprick of annoyance at her, remembering now, the time she’d suggested you’d have been the type to run away with a lover. He felt the briefest urge to shame her, he hoped for a second that she’d remember it too as he had and be ashamed. It faded quickly and it stung but he couldn’t be bothered to scold himself for it. The more important issue at hand was your life. Diana spluttered, “My sister has been found? Where is she now?” She, perhaps not the most dutiful sister, did show at least this much love for you. In her eyes, he could see the resolve to see you again despite a slight troubled look in them. She was ready to go wherever you had. Claude’s careworn, lovesick heart softened some and instead of answering her, he simply called out to a passing servant to ready the carriage, for they were going to the manor of his in-laws right away.

Diana woke up their daughter from her nap and the three of them made their way your parents’ manor where they awaited your return after so many years. Your parents tried to take pains to greet him formally, to reach for their grandchild but he waved them off rudely. “Where is she?”

Your mother flinched, pulling away, embarrassed to have been snubbed so brashly by him. “She’s being brought here by the knights, they’ve not yet arrived but they should return shortly.”

Diana’s brow furrowed at her mother’s disposition. Something about the situation had apparently unsettled her but she said nothing in regards to it. Claude had the urge to tell her, “Look closely at the woman you know to be your mother, does she look worried at all about your sister? Look at your father, too. Does he seem as you imagine we would if we located the dying body of our daughter after she’d been missing nearly a decade?” He wanted her to see them as they were even if it were too late for it to matter. He wanted her to see who favored her, what sort of people loved her, a wretched murderer, a philanderer, a careless woman. He wanted her to wonder what it said about her that she’d be loved by them.

You arrived shortly as your parents probably prayed so that they’d not have to deal with more questions and the suspicious look in their only true daughter’s eyes, the disillusionment. Felix brought you up your old bedroom, he’d gone up to have the servants ready it for your arrival, overseeing their work anxiously to make sure it was made comfortable enough for a woman of an unknown level of severe illness and injury. Diana had wanted to follow him up to help but he’d, gently as he was capable of in such a situation, had her wait downstairs under some thin guise in relation to their daughter. He’d not wanted to be around them then, as the time grew nearer to seeing you again. 

When Felix brought you upstairs, he stood at attention from the corner where he sat anxiously looking about your room. You had large bruises up and down your body, you were filthy with blood caked under your nails and on the side of your head clinging to brittle hair, you were bandaged here and there in haste. He made a small sound of anguish and surprise, for it was one thing to be told you were near death, another thing to see it, smell it, feel it radiate off of your body. You were decaying even as you drew breath. Felix’s gaze lifted to Claude unabashedly hateful for a moment as he realized he was in the room but quickly flickered back down to you. Claude pulled back the covers on the bed for Felix to set you down and called for the doctor in a voice that betrayed a stifled sob. 

The doctor did as he could for you under the somber watch of Claude but even so, you remained unconscious. He didn’t leave your side, praying for you to open your eyes at least, even if just briefly. Even if just to damn him. Even if you were doomed as the doctor seemed to believe. He’d said you were almost certain to die, that it was a matter of making you comfortable, an offense which had gotten him a verbal lashing from Claude even though he knew it was most likely the truth. Diana hesitated to bring their daughter up the room, knowing your body’s fragile condition and the very apparent air of death that surrounded had already frightened her, she came to see you later when she put their daughter down. 

She loomed over your body, trying to find somewhere to touch you, to let you know she was here with you but everywhere was marred and she drew her hand back with a horrified look from seeing you up close, teary eyed. A strange marriage of anger, pity and love did come over him when he saw that. He wanted her to leave him be with you, he wanted to condemn her for even wanting to see you when the reason you were dying was because you made a sacrifice for your sake. But how could he? They were both guilty of the same sin, same measure. Their union was only made possible through their selfish brandishing of their love so how could he turn his back on her so belatedly? How could he deny her for this when he’d been the one to gain the most from their union? For shame or for pride, she was his wife. They were too closely entwined for him to become a hypocrite just now. Though, that hardly meant he wanted to see her healthy, well and with their child while the woman who was deprived of everything lay dying. 

He sent Diana from the room, again under the guise of their daughter, “assuring” her that he’d stay at your side all night. Diana’s expression shifted slightly, revealing a hint of the girl she used to be, unpolished and genuine, unable to help showing all her emotions on her face. She looked…wounded but he must have looked very devastated because when he turned to face her fully, her expression slackened slightly and she did not argue. She only sighed and said, “I hope you won’t make yourself ill doing that. I’ll be in my old room, send for me straight away if you feel tired or unwell at all. I love you.” She said her ‘I love you’ like a plea, like she was near begging for his reassurance again. But Claude was simply not in the frame of mind to be declaring his love her even as it still ruled him. He simply nodded at her and looked back at you. Diana stayed still for a few seconds, he felt her eyes on him, felt that he’d hurt her in his denial. Then, she left the room swiftly.

A day later, his whole body hurt, he had not slept and his mind had gone numb. He could no longer consider very much of the future, he waded through the past. “I wonder…” he began in a tone loud enough to hear through the door. “Are you still out there?”

Felix entered the room. He’d been guarding your door since you returned home. He had not left or giving up the task to another knight for long enough to sleep. He had stood there obstinately without saying a word as if he’d never stopped being your knight. “You called for me, My Lord?” His voice was flat and very hardly concealing a certain amount of disdain.

“You searched for my- for the lady independently, if I understand correctly.”

“Indeed,” Felix answered simply.

“Diana and I owe you our gratitude for doing so, for not giving up on her so easily.”

“Oh, I could not abide you being in debt to me, Lord Claude. All that I did, I did for the lady’s sake alone.” A clear message in that, Claude’s lips almost curled into a bitter smile.

“Very good. You may rest now, the lady is in no further danger.”

“I’m afraid I would hardly be a knight if I were only devoted to looking after her when I felt there were further dangers imminent, My Lord.”

“What is it that you’re concerned about? I am at her side, a knight in my own right. I will not leave her.”

Felix only smiled, a hateful, spiteful smile. “Nor will I, My Lord. I hope you understand.”

Oh, Claude understood. Both the voices inside did, in their own manner. An odd similarity had struck between them, as close as they ever had been to being as one. “Very well,” He sighed, unduly frustrated. “You may return.” He did not even know why he’d desired for Felix to leave so much. Was it that he wanted, even if only once, to be the man who put himself aside for you? Was it that Felix’s very existence condemned his own, with his above dutiful knightly devotion to you contrasting the easy manner in which Claude had been willing to trade you for Diana? He felt guilt when he heard that it was Felix who’d found you, who’d never stopped looking and then an ounce of envy. He knew it was arrogant but if there was nothing else he could do to make up for what had been done, he wanted to be the one who rescued you.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing there was no grand redemption for what had been done just as there was nothing that could ever fill the hole of your absence. He had left you to die as he wed the love of his life and made a very beloved child with her. He had taken your sacrifice into his hands easily and enjoyed a peaceful life because of it without even being able to imagine that you’d never get the same. His obliviousness to how you must have been seeing he and Diana, pushed you into thinking you needed to sacrifice for their sakes or else simply needed to escape a marriage to a man who loved your little sister. You were responsible for all that he had now. And what would he do if you never again opened your eyes? What would he do if you went to your grave thinking you meant so little to him that he’d not even done the smallest thing for you? 

Fortunately, your condition had gotten slightly better by the next evening. You had brief bouts of consciousness after a long stretch of unresponsiveness. You had a fever and the doctor was doing all he could with his remedies to break it but it didn’t seem to be working. There was only so much that could be done with your body in such a condition. There was hardly anything that could be administered to you to rid you of any pain though the doctor mentioned there was a chance you weren’t feeling anything at all for you did not attempt to speak when you woke and slipped quite easily back out of consciousness. A prospect which was morbidly comforting. If you were to die, all the better for you to do so peacefully. But because the chance that you were indeed suffering from the high fever wreaking havoc on your body, he gently laid a cool cloth against your forehead.

Seconds later, your eyes opened, slowly blinking as your lips parted in an attempt to take air into your lungs more easily. He pulled his hand away as soon as he saw your eyes open, as if he’d been caught doing something unseemly. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you returned to consciousness, your eyes bleary and hollow. You gazed at him as if seeing past him, as if seeing the figments of him that had failed you before. The cowardly part of him that lay hidden behind worthless flesh wanted simply to tell you that…well, he didn’t actually know what he should say if he were given the chance. At one time, he imagined he’d tell you he loved you but what use was his love to you anymore? In every life he had loved and in every life someone bled for it. What comfort could it possibly bring? As much comfort as a curse which grows into you with time. The constance of misfortune and the certainty that it would become both of you, that was his love. 

It hardly mattered what he wanted to say anyway. His was not the voice that left his lips, it was mimicry from a force that had grown oddly similar to him in this life. “I remember the day they told me you’d run away…all this time, I have thought of that day.” He did not flinch at the words that came from his lips, for once; the fever had probably made you too delirious to understand him.

“Every moment I had to myself, I asked why you left. Diana told me you probably had somebody. But somehow I didn’t believe that, to my perspective, you really weren’t like that. So why? Why did you leave and why did I look for you even after…” He paused, finding himself so overly emotional talking to a woman that couldn’t even hear him, who was probably in a waking dream more than in her old bedroom with her old fiancé. He must be a stranger to her now. So why was he pouring out the things he would not even confess to his wife as if you were responsible? As if you could answer to the melancholy he already knew very well the source of. His two selves still had the obvious rift between them even as his greater self morphed more into a pale approximation of what his true self used to be. They were two jagged shards of a vase knocked from your dining table. This unearthly force that had taken him over, which had control over him still, was a creature yet unknown to him. He would do well to remember that much.

“Even now I am denied the reason why.” Even so, he had spent too many lives with the greater voice inside that ran thousands of thoughts through his very being not to feel as though he understood something about it when it spoke through him then. “When I should have rejoiced, when I should have been glad, always, always, it was you, like an ghost in my periphery.”

“Now you’re back and it feels like the end,” He spoke the words prophetically, it was the end. You were dipping back into unconsciousness again.  “This isn’t the way I’m supposed to feel,” He said, tucking your blanket up to your chin, sending you off for what he felt would be the final time. He felt it, he knew it. His chest welled up with that feeling again, the dread he felt the day you’d run away. This time, he wondered what would happen if he stayed here in the version of reality he’d grown accustomed to. Would it free you if he stayed in the version of the world which had what the greater self sought to carry out? If he gave in to a will greater than his own? 

At some point during the night, your fever broke and when it did, he found himself freed. His body delivered back to him at a very strange point this time. Never had there been a moment where you’d been alive that he’d also been able to speak freely. It felt like an anomaly, a shared fever dream or the view of earth from his first life the day before he met Diana. In any case, he didn’t feel very much about his own autonomy being returned to him, time enough to consider it later and the rest of his life to mourn. That morning, all he wanted to do was stay at your side, as himself through and through. He knew you were not on the same earthly plane as he was anymore even if you were not yet dead. You would not hear what he’d say, nor see what he’d do or feel his presence. Even so, he took your hand in his and he spoke.

“I have loved you for each and every one of our lives. I am sorry,” He drew in a breath. “Don’t forgive me. I will always be sorry. I am sorry for whatever this is, this part of myself so sharply cleaved out of me every time that I cannot stop killing you. I know it means nothing but I have never spoken it and I must. If this is not the real end, in our next life, kill me yourself. It must end. It must end with my blood, how long can we– how long can we suffer this way? There must be something, there must be something…” His speech, intended to be cathartic in some way, broke off and descended into inarticulate blubbering, his tears dripping onto your hand. He could speak no more then. Could stand the sound of his voice begging the empty air no longer. 

He stayed at your side until the very end. Until he could no longer feel your pulse, the beats of your heart slow and faint. He could swear he felt the moment of your death as deeply as he felt the reach of this primordial thing that seemed to take more of him than he could have imagined there was with each life.

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @gwyneveire

Im sorry, I have to bother Osamu

——

“I swear to god I’m going to lock you in the bedroom.”

For whatever reason, Osamu decided that this was the night out he was going to dress down, usually sticking with jeans and a sweatshirt for most of the nights with the boys. Tonight however, he looks damn intoxicating, he looks like a bad mistake you’re more than willing to make: muscles jammed in a compression shirt that slightly cinches his waist, settled over the band of his grey sweats that cuff at his ankles. They sit low on his hips and good lord if he doesn’t hide the band of his boxers, you’re going to lose your mind.

“I look bad or somethin?”

“You think you’re gonna leave the house looking that fine! No. You look way too good to be sitting at Bokuto’s house. What do you think this is?”

He snickers as he ties his shoes, “baby, its just the boys-“

“I don’t trust you with that Sunarin. Don’t make me fight him off with a stick.”

He shakes his head and licks his lips, and you groan in frustration as he looks somehow even more fine looking.

He shakes his head and gently reaches up to rub his neck, “I'm so used to you being the eye candy, it's hard to think I could compete-"

“This is not about me,” you say breathlessly, and he gives you a quiet ‘sorry,’ before letting his shy, smiling face turn away. “You, Miya Osamu, are a god amongst mere maggots, and I shouldn’t have the permission to gaze upon you.”

He snorts and shakes his head, “you literally popped a black head on my nose yesterday, shut up.”

“That doesn’t stop you from being an absolute heartthrob.” Your swooning only makes his cheeks heat up more, and he chokes out a shy “stop,” before licking his teeth to try and break the smile on his now sore cheeks.

Quickly, you toss your arms around his neck and plant more than a few kisses to his jawline, noisy and wet, and it has him snorting.

“You’re so pretty,” you whine.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Literally going to wifey you up- you’re so handsome.”

“Shut up!” He titters.

You groan and gently cup his cheeks, “just a few more kisses, shut up and take them.” His lips are pursed out from the squishing of his cheeks as you plant a few kisses around his face, littering his nose and above his eyebrows. When you pass a kiss over his lips, he pushes out to chase the affection.

"You're so handsome." Kiss. "Truly ruining my life." Kiss. "I'd sacrifice my own left foot just to be in the same space as you." Your kiss moves up to his forehead, "literally let me be obsessed with you."

Kiss.

Kiss.

One long kiss.

You go to kiss him again, but you stop quickly as the consequences of your affection glares back at you. Instantly, your hands cover your mouth in shock, and he gives you a small chuckle as he quirks a brow at you, “what’re you lookin’ at?”

“Igaveyouahickey.”

“Huh?”

“Igaveyouahickey,” you repeat, your voice now pitched higher and more frantic. He chuckles again, this time a little more nervous before adjusting the tight cuff of his compression sleeve.

“Very funny, babe.”

You shake your head, “I wish I had those comedic capabilities, Osamu.”

With a gnaw of his lip, he gives you a deep inhale through his nose, “you gave me a hickey… on my forehead?”

“I’m so sorry-“

“how… did you give me a hickey on my forehead?”

“When… when-when I was kissing you,” you begin, now trying to hide your laughter because damn, this is pretty funny- “I think I kissed you too hard.”

“I don’t think this was a kiss, I think it’s when you sucked my face,” he says in exhaustion, working up the courage to look in the camera of his phone. He tucks his lips in to fight off his own smile, and that causes you to finally break out in laughter. Your arms clutch your sides as he stares at himself; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch. Just a close-smile stare.

“And what exactly do you plan to do to help me with this?” He asks, full knowing you don’t have a plan. You beam up innocently, and he knows that this is not going work and he’s going to walk into Bokuto’s house with bags of food and a damned purple hickey above his eyebrow.

You stalk over to him and reach your hand up and into his hair, dragging out the not-so neat locks to have some longer chunks in the center of his forehead and just above his brow, “here. Now no one will know!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Are your pants on fire, you LIAR?”

You snicker and pull back, admiring him and the pretty purple mark on his head. "It brings out your eye color."

"Oh, thank God, I was worried."

You laugh and make your way back into his arms, and he embraces you happily. "At least I don't have to worry about anyone taking you from me tonight,” you tease.

He smiles and kisses your lips, nipping at them to make you squeak, "never have to worry about that ever, baby."

"Except with Sunarin."

"Not true-“

"And Akaashi-san."

He smirks, "you may lose me to Akaashi-san."

"That's very fair."

Masterlist of Taehoon ✨Bullshit✨

Lookism Masterlist | Part 2 ☞ (multi-character headcanons/dynamics)

Lookism Storylines ☞ (fun shit. mix of x reader and with reader)

Gun + Goo | Jake + Samuel | Everyone else ☞ (single character-centric standalones)

... Even More Lookism Masterlist ☞ (different characters in same scenarios series)

How To Fight/Viral Hit Masterlist | You're here! Seong Taehoon

Seong Taehoon Standalones

Seong Taehoon dying his hair

Seong Taehoon meeting HTF Peak... YOU

Seong Taehoon: Meeting for the first time

Seong Taehoon x Reader: You and a boring bastard at a photobooth

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Meeting the DILF | Daddy Seong

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Dying his hair black

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Boyfriend headcanons | Boyfriend headcanons 2

Seong Taehoon x Reader: boyfriend does my makeup

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Sulking

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Confessing to You

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Taehoon gets hit

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Ignoring you

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Bedtime headcanon (sfw)

Seong Taehoon x Reader: cat dad

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Crushing on You

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Ideal Type

Seong Taehoon x Reader First Kiss: Hospital Kiss | Making the first move

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Older reader hc

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Cheerful friendly S/O

Seong Taehoon x Reader: fall out

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Unnie/Noona

Seong Taehoon x Reader: As friends

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Winning you back hc

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Looking after you

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Cuddling to a bit more hc

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Internet simps

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Yor Forger-ish type S/O hc

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Through the years

Seong Taehoon x Reader: All your moods

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Congrats on your pregnancy!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Uno Reverse

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Getting accidentally kicked

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Strangers to... A Not-Crush | Hansu and Taehoon talk

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Yi Suryeon | Part 2

Seong Taehoon x Reader: You being an idiot

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Two menaces walk into an arcade...

Bald Taehoon

Seong Taehoon hc: Simping + Being a dad

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Insomnia

Love at First Sight Double-Take at First-ish Meeting: Taehoon

Seong Taehoon x Reader: when did you know you liked me?

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Stay

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Coffee date (feat Hobin)

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Comfort

Seong Taehoon x Reader: bouquet from your secret admirer

Seong Taehoon x Reader: when did you know you liked me?

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Stay

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Happy Birthday! (feat Hansu)

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Comforting Taehoon

Seong Taehoon x Outdoorsy!Reader hc

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Coupons (feat Hansu)

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Swim

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Military Service

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Letters

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* "YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT SILLY PROJECT OF YOURS, YOU JUST WANT SOME DICK."

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { NEED TO KNOW } ] ➤ This fic was originally written & published on Wattpad but due to multiple complications, I’ve decided to upload it here as well.

[ { CONTENT } ] ➤ Each chapter is rather lengthy & the entirety of this fiction exceeds at least 90k words and counting. There are plenty of sexual themes & smut within this story so please proceed with caution.

[ { WARNINGS } ] ➤ fem!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, alcohol, college au, toxic altercations & interactions, heavy blackmail, hints of; obsession, possessiveness, & stalking. Violence, whore activities, gen z references, & above all; 18+ themes.

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

❥ Chapters !

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2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

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18.

19.

20.

I'll transfer the rest of the chapters soon...

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

A- Angst

F- Fluff

C- Comfort

GOJO SATORU

By Your Side (A, F) - what if Gojo didn't die and was revived Dentist Calls (F) - Gojo gets a cavity Kikufuku (F) - Kikufuku chef Gojo ft. his cooking partner Serendipity (F) - A tall, handsome stranger at a bookshop 9:01 (F) - Gojo gets a piercing with you Why him? (F) - Gojo's daughter wants to marry uncle Geto 7:36 (F) - Gojo proposes in his own style Gym Time (F) - Gojo works out with you Skincare Rituals (F) - Gojo and skincare Jealousy, Jealousy (F) - Gojo gets hit on at a date Birthday Present (F) - Dad Gojo teaches your toddler some words First Day (F) - Dad Gojo's sends his child to preschool As I Was Saying (F) - Gojo is determined to interrupt your phonecall

NANAMI KENTO

Faded (A) - Breaking up with Nanami The Shibuya Incident (A) - Nanami's fate in Shibuya, pt 2 of Faded Warm Mornings (A) - He's not gone, right? pt 3 of Faded Second Chances (F) - Patch up with Nanami, alt ending of Faded Trip to Malaysia (F) - Nanami moves to Malaysia with you A Future with You (F) - Nanami builds a future, pt 2 of Trip to Malaysia Sakura Blossom (F) - Cafe date with Nanami Little Superhero (F) - Dad Nanami gets called to the preschool

ITADORI YUJI

4:31 (C) - You support Yuji after the incidents in Shibuya

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Guardian (F) - Toji saves someone, uncharacteristically

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Orange Peel Theory (F) - Gojo, Nanami Lipstick Kisses (F) - Gojo, Nanami

Masterlist of HTF/Viral Hit ✨Bullshit✨

Lookism Masterlist | Part 2 ☞ (multi-character headcanons/dynamics)

Lookism Storylines ☞ (fun shit. mix of x reader and with reader)

Gun + Goo | Jake + Samuel | Everyone else ☞ (single character-centric standalones)

... Even More Lookism Masterlist ☞ (different characters in same scenarios series)

You're here! How To Fight/Viral Hit Masterlist | Seong Taehoon

Maintained collection of my HTF/Viral Hit silly writing, headcanons and ramblings

General

Seong Taehoon x Reader: HTF discovering You & Taehoon dating

HTF sharing love hotel room hc (Taehoon, Yeonwoo, Museong, Seongjun, Jinho)

HTF x Reader: tall, quiet, glasses (Hobin, Taehoon, Wangguk, Yeonwoo)

HTF Boys Dating/Boyfriend hc (Taehoon, Seongjun, Yeonwoo, Wangguk, Munseong)

Kissing: Seong Taehoon | Baek Seongjun

Being ill + looking after them (Taehoon, Wangguk)

HTF x Reader: Kabedon with Taehoon, Seongjun

Men of Lookism: Bathhouse Meeting Part 3... with Guests

HTF Boys responding to "NICE BUTT!"

Hugs from HTF Guys hc

Comforting YOU hc: Seong Taehoon, Baek Seongjun

Lookism/HTF reacting to your deepfakes

The Way of the Househusband: Lookism and HTF hc

Lookism + HTF: Who fell first and who fell harder hc

Lookism + HTF react to: "Surprise! You're having a baby!"

Lookism + HTF Guys: Boobs, Ass, Thighs or...?

HTF Boys reacting to you wearing their clothes: Munseong, Wangguk, Yeonwoo, Seongjun, Taehoon

Lookism+ HTF guys react to their fanfics...

HTF texting habits: Munseong, Yeonwoo, Wangguk, Taehoon

Baek Seongjun Standalones

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Kimono

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Broken

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Cuddling to a bit more hc

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Happiness

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Prince

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Washing Dishes

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Cooking on the boat

Other standalones

Ji Yeonwoo x Reader: Confessing to You

Ji Yeonwoo x Reader: Older reader hc

Ji Yeonwoo x Reader: Love at first sight

Seo Haesu BS

Haesu x Reader x Taehoon (if you actually want to read something, you're going to be disappointed)

Seo Haesu x Reader: Rainy days

Seo Haesu x Reader: Catnaps

Seo Haesu x Reader: You like me

Seong Hansu x Reader: an old man and his memories

Baek Seongjun's Dad x Reader (simp over someone else, kid)

Joshua dating hc

Ramblings

HTF/Viral Hit Women