Fem Reader - Blog Posts

How To Make Two Lovers Of Friends

Words: 11,569

Synopsis:

Aizawa is taking a much-needed break after the war with Shigaraki and All For One. He isn't looking for anything in particular; that is, until he spots you in a goth themed coffee house. A whirlwind romance ensues in this one shot, filled to the brim with sexual tension, fluff, and smut.

Alternative/goth fem! Reader

Fair warning, this one is the first fic I'd ever written, so it isn't my best work. It does hold a special place in my heart though and I hope it's enjoyable for someone!

Morning light came dappled through the windows as you took your favorite seat at the coffee house, just like you did every morning to start your day. This coffee shop went by the name Bauhaus; probably a nonsequedor to most, but a familiar homage to a band for you. It had this witchy aesthetic, filled with books and old vinyls that made you feel at peace. You never really saw places like this when you still lived in America, at least not in your neck of the woods. How absolutely lucky that you lived just a few blocks away!

You ordered yourself the special for this month: The Headless Horseman, an iced pumpkin and caramel breve to celebrate the upcoming fall season, a welcome respite from the August heat. Smoothing away the creases on your black velvet dress, you thanked the barista, who you typically made small talk with but were not quite on a first name basis with just yet, and took your seat once again to finish reading your book. The leaves rattled in the wind outside and rapped against the building like old bones in a wooden sarcophagus.

"A storm is coming soon," you say quietly to yourself.

Gentle thunder thrums in the distance like the soft beating of a lambskin drum, and a small grin makes itself at home on your lips.

Perfect reading weather.

Adjusting yourself on the bench beneath your legs, your mouth curved at the edges, eliciting a slight hum from your lips. 

Ah. 

Spooky, scary peace.

Outside the confines of the coffee house, though, the weather was much less enjoyable. The heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic both trudged through heavy raindrops, soaked like wet dogs, caught off guard by the sudden change in weather. Aizawa scowled at his mess of dark hair getting drenched.

"Damn, this weather is nasty!" Said Mic, voice unintentionally booming.

He looked around and scouted for shelter as the thunder rolled, and settled on the closest bit of light he could see, pointing his finger at Bauhaus so as to motion for Aizawa to head that way.

They stopped at the overhang to dry off a bit before entering when Aizawa got a peek inside the shop. He took note of the band posters and bookshelves littering the walls, the violet-hued plants hanging from the ceiling and shelves, the generally alternative vibe that exuded from the place.

"I don't know, Hizashi," he stated hesitantly, shifting his weight to his good leg.

"What's the big deal? It's not like you'll look out of place," Hizashi was frank, opening the door with no apprehension. He gave a quick chuckle that sounded like taps on a hot microphone.

It was true, Aizawa typically dressed in all black. Now that he was taking a break, though, he didn't always have his capture weapon on him. He was instead accompanied by a patch over his eye and a prosthetic leg. He felt like he usually stood out like a sore thumb these days, which was problematic for someone who had always tried to keep such a low profile in the past.

Aizawa fiddled with his eyepatch and thought about how nice it would be to blend in once more. He had always tried to stay out of the spotlight, but after the intense battle with Shigaraki, it was harder to avoid the media. Maybe a place like this wasn't such a bad idea. He continued to zone out as Mic spoke much too loudly for the space they were in, as usual, and talked (mostly to himself) about if he should get a coffee or a smoothie.

Aizawa grew slightly embarrassed by his friend's actions as he looked around the room to see if his boisterous voice was bothering the other patrons. It was 6am, still early, so Bauhaus was lingering with the vestiges of sleep, waking with the rest of Musutafu. There was a green haired person on their laptop in the back corner, tucked away, uninvolved in the rest of the shop and seemingly unbothered. Empty seats. A full cup on a table that meant someone would be right back.

Then there was you.

Right beneath the window seat near the front of the shop, a purple vining plant hanging above you, crushed velvet bell sleeves rested upon the table as your fingers gripped the pages of a well-worn copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. Your face was aglow like the moon, scattered with a few freckles that danced across rosy cheeks, long lashes that arched over your half-lidded eyes. The bass of the music swelling over the speakers seemed to engulf Aizawa, thumping in his head, your silken locks being brushed to settle behind your ear as his mouth suddenly dried.

Then, as if on que, you looked up at him just in time for him to hear "oh Lucretia, my reflection", and everything seemed to stand still. He could feel his pulse in his fingertips. You had these gorgeous doe eyes, these pouty little lips that gave a gamine smile to him while he held his gaze for much too long, he was sure of it. You were a vision. A blooming Queen Of The Night. A siren out in the storm.

"Quit staring at her and tell me what you want to drink!"

Aizawa was snapped out of his delusion. Flustered at the comment, he groaned, his eye twitching. Unwilling to break the eye contact with you just yet, your smile grew, and you exchanged glances with him again, causing pink heat to bloom over his face. You sat down your book and made your posture more swanlike as you maintained eye contact with him. His breath hitched at this.

You snuck looks at him for the rest of the time the two were in the shop. You weren't enough of a go-getter to approach him--nor were you brave enough to blatantly ask him out--but you really hoped that maybe he would come in again.

————

As mortified as he was by Mic's statement, he knew he had to try to see you again.

Not because he wanted to get to know you or anything.

No.

You just seemed... interesting. You seemed interesting and he felt very comfortable in Bauhaus. In fact, it probably had very little to do with you at all. He was more than likely just transferring these feelings of comfort onto you. After all, it's been a while since he's been able to go out and not feel like he was the one being stared at.

Yes.

This is rational.

This is why he needed to go back. You were just there by happenstance.

Every single weekday morning--and on weekends when he wasn't watching Eri--for an entire month, he was at the shop.

That's just how comfortable he was there. That's how good their plain black coffee was. That's what it meant to have a routine.

It was just a coincidence that he couldn't help but to notice you.

You were always there in that same cozy nook. Some days you were dressed in a band t-shirt and jeans. Some days you were in a plaid skirt and combat boots. Some days you were in a mossy green dress that went to the floor. Some days you wore causal yoga pants that were surely comfortable but made him sweat like a sinner in church. He never knew what exactly he would see you in next, but it was usually the same kind of style. And you always had a book to read, which Aizawa greatly admired. You were studious and attentive with your literature, but also a little bit goofy, judging by the laughter between you and the barista when you picked up your drinks.

But he had also come to find that you were very kind. Although you didn't appear to be a hero, you helped in other ways. You would pay for people's orders if they didn't have enough to cover their purchase. Twice, he watched you pay for the food of a homeless man, and then you sat with this man as an equal, outside on the curb, as the two of you ate breakfast sandwiches and talked. You were softspoken and gentle in your manner of speech, making him feel as though you were reading him to sleep as you talked between bites of food.

He noticed you had the biggest soft spot for animals, though.

You would watch out the window at around 6:15 to see if your little cat friend would show up that day. You would give them a drink of water from your own bottle and cap, offer them bits of bread and meat, and coo at them in a lovely sing-song voice as they ate. The cat didn't want to be touched, they were scarred and matted all to hell; but you were patient every single time. What a beautiful soul you seemed to have.

Aizawa was normally pessimistic, but you made him feel hopeful in humanity. He was certain that you had flaws, as people do, but your acts of kindness always made sure he had a good start to his day. He was always ready to protect you if you ever needed it. The world could use more good people, after all.

One morning in particular, as Aizawa picked up his drink, he noticed a man lazily stroll up to you at your regular nook. This happened to you every so often now that you were in Japan. You were approached by men, and very occasionally other women, maybe a handful of times in your entire life back in the United States. Your best guess is that here you were considered "exotic" since you looked different from most. You almost never saw someone with features like yours, and you were certainly taller than most of the women here, with noticeably longer limbs; all things that weren't exactly beauty standards in America but seemed to garner attention in Japan.

Unfortunately, the attention wasn't usually the kind that you enjoyed, and this guy was no different. He was dressed in an athletic shirt and basketball shorts. Not that you were one to judge, because hell, sometimes you showed up in pastels if the mood so struck you. People weren't bound to the confines of fashion. However, in your experience, men dressed in this clothing who came into Bauhaus tended to be... unsavory. Usually someone looking to fulfill their fetishes.

"Ooo, Cara Mia," he taunted as he approached you.

An Addams Family reference would have otherwise been right up your alley, but when he said the quote, it felt icky somehow. You knew he had to have kept this line in his back pocket regardless of who he came across, anyway. You were in a long sleeved sheer top with a lavender camisole and pair of black bell bottoms. More Stevie Nicks than Morticia Addams. So you did the rational thing and ignored him. You weren't there to be someone's Big Tiddy Goth Girlfriend.

He didn't like that much.

"Hey. I'm talking to you," he spat his words at you with barely concealed contempt.

"I heard you," you flicked your eyes up at him sharply.

Aizawa's body tensed in preparation to spring into action, taking a step forward in your direction. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

"I was just being nice. Not like anyone else is going to talk to your ugly old ass," his words were meant to bite at you, but you didn't budge.

"Old? Why, because I dared to live past 16? God, you are disgusting," you sat down your book and shook your head disapprovingly, "creeps like you are always projecting your own insecurities. How sad for you. Fuck off,"

He looked shocked, furious, like he was about to scream something in your face--but stopped abruptly when you started to hum. It was a haunting melody, something akin to a nocturne.

"I think you should go now," you stated plainly.

With this, the man walked out the door in what appeared to be a fugue-like state. And you calmly went back to your book.

Huh. Maybe you didn't need Aizawa's protection.

You just kept getting more and more intriguing.

On his fourth straight week of coming in, a Friday in early September, you decided to finally talk to him since it seemed like you were both regular patrons of the shop now. You made sure to finger-comb your hair before you turned to look at him. He was in his usual black on black sweatpants and sweatshirt, this time with his hair pulled back to reveal his jawline. He was very handsome, you thought.

"Hey there, you," you said after he placed his order of a single black coffee.

He turned around, a bit shocked at the sudden start of such a casual conversation.

"I see you in here a lot lately. I'm not sure if you have the time, but would you like to come sit with me?"

You smiled delicately in an attempt to seem welcoming.

"It would be nice to have some company for a change," you say.

His dark eye bore into you like a bullet coming straight for your gaze. After a moment of collecting his words, he finally settled on replying back:

"Yeah, sure. That would be fine,"

Aizawa tried his best to remain calm and cool, stoic even, refusing to let something so nonchalant shake him.

However, truth be told, you felt a bit shaken yourself. You weren't sure if he would accept your offer or reject it and then stop coming in. You could be so straightforward sometimes, and you felt like you could accidentally make things awkward. But you had a feeling he might at least be interested in getting to know you after your initial interaction with him.

You introduce yourself as you stirred your latte with a tiny silver spoon.

"Shota Aizawa," he gave in return.

"Nice to finally meet you," you say with a slight tease in your inflection and a mischievous look.

A blush crept across his face. God, of course you remembered when you two first saw one another. It felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles thinking about it.

"Do you like sitting under the stars?" You ask to cut the silence.

Aizawa looked perplexed. It seemed like an odd thing to ask him. Maybe you liked the outdoors?

"I've never actually been camping. Never really seemed that fun to me," he was eager to continue talking to you, though he wasn't sure exactly why.

You had this glint in your eye, like you knew the punchline to a joke you hadn't even told yet, along with a playful smile. Setting down your cup, you pointed up. That's when he noticed that the ceiling was matte black and painted with silver glittering stars.

"It's one of my favorite things about coming here," you disclosed this information to him, almost as if it were a secret.

It was then that he knew for sure that you weren't like most people.

You two met like this, discussing books and hobbies and music, for another month and a half. Every morning at 6am you could expect to see him waiting at Bauhaus for you, rain or shine. You would get some kind of breve or latte and he would get a strongly brewed black coffee. Sometimes you spoke for an hour before one of you had to go, sometimes you two were there until you were both hungry for lunch. Although the days all started at Bauhaus, occasionally, the day would take the two of you to a nearby ramen shop, a corner store, or a short walk down the block. Anywhere you wanted to go, he was there.

————

He now knew that you liked horror movies and would read just about anything you could get your hands on, that you loved animals, you moved here two years ago to help with the mental health crisis in Japan as a grief counselor, and you thoroughly enjoyed humor.

You came to know that he liked cats, was a teacher, liked the smell of rain, he was generally pretty introverted, read comic books as a kid, and had a liking for dark jokes. He had mentioned that he was a hero, a pro hero actually, when the shop was empty one morning. You said that was "so cool" and beamed with pride that you knew him, but you seemed unfamiliar with the Erasure Hero.

You continued to treat him exactly the same.

This was mesmerizing to Aizawa.

Today was one of the days that stretched on like a sleeping cat in a sunny patch. You'd already met once in the morning, breaked for work, and then met again in the late evening. The golden-hour sun was pouring in its warm light, backing you like some kind of seraphem, and painting him in a spreading halo of honeyed peach. The way the flecks of rainbow from the slanted glass flitted over his skin bewitched you.

And you, there at your place, drenched in marigold light that kissed down upon your flawless skin, made him shudder. Your eyes nearly glowed in the light. You appeared fragile, breakable, like spun glass; though he knew you were sturdier than your languid demeanor would let on.

He stuffed down the feelings he was starting to have for you like a snake eating a too large mouse. This was more than just lust, infatuation, or attraction. As scary as it was, he liked you. The butterflies stirred in his belly when you called his name from your window nook and the moths fluttered in yours when he said "I thought I might find you here, y/n," with the slightest upturn of his mouth. You were both nervous about this tension that was building between the two of you, but he was more reserved, whereas you tended to wear your heart on your sleeve. You knew that you would have to be the one to address it.

"Aizawa," you say to him, circling the rim of your cup with your fingertip as you place your other hand in front of his on the table, "I have some errands to run tomorrow... would you maybe want to come with me? It can be hard for me to carry heavy things all the way into my place on my own, and I really want to get some pumpkins to carve,"

This seemed utilitarian enough that he might feel more at ease accepting the invitation, but still deliciously domestic.

Aizawa felt the breath leave his lungs. Going to a pumpkin patch? Carving pumpkins? Like a cute little date?

"You don't have to, if you don't have the time," you stated reassuringly.

"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," His voice broke as he uttered out an answer, "I can go. I'll make the time if I don't have it,"

"Great! Can we meet up around 10?"

"I'll be there,"

"You always are,"

The air hung around the two of you with a lightness for a few seconds. Aizawa could see his reflection in your big glass-like eyes, causing his heart to beat wildly in his chest. You gave a small laugh, crinkling your nose, very aware of the closeness of your faces. He felt like maybe he should kiss you. But did you even like him that way? You could just be friendly and kissing you would be a huge mistake. Everything would come crashing down if he did that. Your trust would be gone. You would be gone. He couldn't take that risk.

But oh, how you wanted him to lean in and touch his lips to your own. You wondered how his stubble would feel against your skin, and if he would taste like that black coffee he was always sipping on. A knot formed in your stomach, this familiar aching, a longing, a fear of the unknown feelings he had for you, and excitement that he might feel the same way. How long had it been since you felt this way? Was it ever this intense?

You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, your heart racing. You could feel that something was bubbling up. Something was about to happen. You were going to lean in closer when the door to the coffee house flew open, and in walked Hizashi.

"I thought I'd find you here, Eraser! You sure love this place lately!" His voice nearly shook the entryway.

Tension gone.

Goodbye, mood.

Aizawa sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, fully aware that Mic was about to say something daft.

"Watcha got here?" Mic asked enthusiastically, gesturing toward you with a gloved hand, "Shota, do you have a girlfriend you never told me about?"

Fucking Mic.

Aizawa looked pale, sick even.

Of course he wanted you to be his girlfriend. Especially when he was about to go to sleep, or saw some stuffed animal he knew you would like, or when he was in the shower and thinking of how he'd like to see those sultry eyes looking up at him as you put your mouth on his...

"Hizashi, for someone who's entire Quirk is based on sound, you are so damn tonedeaf," Aizawa cut his thoughts loose with this retort.

"Woah, easy there," Mic continued, "I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. If you guys aren't hooking up, how about I shoot my shot then?" He waggled his brows at you.

Aizawa gritted his teeth and his eye twitched. Like a deer in the headlights, stunned at this brazen show of complete and total assclownery, he sat still in his seat as Hizashi made fools of them both. The lanky devil just didn't know when to stop tap dancing on his last nerve.

Present Mic leaned over the table as you furrowed your brow in response.

"Wanna see why they call me Magic Mic?" He gave a wide grin with this question.

You made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

"Why, did I pique your interest when you saw me bathing on the roof? Did my beauty and the moonlight overthrow you?"

"Bathing on the roof, you say!" Another waggle.

"Careful there, Sisyphus. That boulder's heavier than it looks," you chime back, scribbling something on a napkin.

Aizawa was amused at your quip. It was impressive how quick on your feet you were in conversation, and how well you handled yourself. He knew that Mic was blabbering on in the background, something about alternative chicks and their spicy attitudes, but he couldn't concentrate on anything other than you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Aizawa," you stated while getting up from your seat, "here's my number. Text me and I'll send you my address so you can meet me at my place, okay?"

Aizawa swallowed the lump in his throat and then nodded in agreement. He took the napkin in his hand and noticed you put a little heart next to your number.

Fuck.

Please let this be a date.

————

The next morning, at 10am sharp, Aizawa reached the front door to your apartment. He didn't even need to look at the number when he saw the fall wreath, covered in leaves and mini pumpkins, suspended from its metal hook. He slicked back his raven hair with his palms, attempting to keep his locks captured in a ponytail, all the while his stomach churned in anticipation. He gave a knock at the door, and you were there almost immediately. Had you been waiting for him?

In reality, yes, you had been. You were ready by 9:30 and then paced around your room before you sat by the door and waited for him to show up. You gave him a big grin as you greeted him, admiring his forearms with his sleeves rolled up. You looked him over, half covered in the shade of your awning, hair pulled back, his trim figure cut well in his dark jeans and gray sweater. Oh my god, he even shaved! That was so cute to you. He shaved for your pumpkin patch adventure. You swooned and felt that tension in your belly build back up. It made you feel like a teenager again, having a crush like that. You kicked at some rocks on your porch in a bashful display.

God how he wanted to put his hands on you when he saw you stepping out of your doorway. You were wearing a burnt orange sundress, a black cardigan with pumpkins lining the bodice, thigh high black pantihose, with black Mary Janes and a wide-brimmed felt hat. You always knew what flattered your figure, what colors brought out your eyes and complimented your skintone. He felt so typical, like such a stereotype, because that sundress was doing something for him.

"You okay with me driving?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He tensed at the prospect of being touched by you, and nodded in agreement. Grabbing your keyfob, you pressed twice to start your vehicle, a completely black car with darkly tinted windows. It was very bold, very dark, and very you.

"You can mess with the volume however you'd like. I don't mind," you told him as you started flipping through your music on the car's touchscreen radio.

Aizawa took note of how eclectic your music was. You seemed to like songs with lots of bass and rumble, and you listened to plenty of Sisters of Mercy, but you also had music that took him off guard: hyper-pop, musical numbers, heavy metal--a smorgasbord of songs on a hodgepodge of a playlist. He could never quite pin you down. As soon as he thought he knew your next move, you pulled an Uno Reverse card, and it was enthralling. He liked a challenge.

He was captured by you as you settled on Love Me by The 1975 and enthusiastically sang along to every word, miming exaggerated faces when the beat picked up. You rolled the windows down and threw your hat in the back seat to feel the wind through your hair.

You glanced over at him briefly as you sang, smiling, glowing, just letting loose with him in a way that felt more intimate than he would've imagined a car ride could feel. Your hair flipped, twisting around your face in the breeze.

He noticed how careful you were with your car, how gingerly you braked at stoplights, and joked "I think my grandpa might actually drive faster than you do,"

"Hey," you replied "I pay a lot of money for this car," you felt a bit embarrassed tagging on the next part of "besides.. it's important to follow traffic laws."

He couldn't help but admire how pragmatic you were about this. You were so soft. Willing to stand up for yourself, but always making sure everyone else was safe. You had a hero heart.

You went back to singing to music, this time Can't Hold Me by Emily King. You always seemed so in your element when music was involved.

"You have a really nice voice," Aizawa stated without thinking. It rolled off of his tongue in an easy sort of way that didn't normally come naturally to him.

"Oh, thanks. It's part of my quirk I guess,"

"You have a quirk?" It was more of a statement than a question. He was pretty positive he'd already seen your quirk in action.

"Well, yeah; but I don't use it much. It's one of those quirks that when you tell people about it they think you're a villain," your voice trailed off a bit and he looked at you with one raised brow.

A sigh escaped your lips.

"If I sing a certain melody, I can make people do whatever I want. They become really pliable and easy to manipulate. But I can only use it on one person at a time, and it's only the one song, and you would know if I was using it," you tried your best to make sure he knew you weren't using it to make him talk to you, or to make him come with you today.

"Quirks are what you make of them. And I don't think that you would ever purposefully hurt someone, y/n. You're better than that,"

On impulse, upon parking the car at the pumpkin patch, you grabbed his hand with Eat Sleep Wake by Bombay Bicycle Club playing softly in the background. The first real physical contact you two had that wasn't accidental. It was warm, and sweet, and electric. Breathing felt like there was a weight on your chest when you realized what happened, and it caught in your throat when he squeezed your hand back.

Eat.

Sleep.

Wake.

Nothing but you.

God, please just kiss me, you thought. Kiss me. Better yet, take me into this pumpkin patch and peel these pantihose off with your teeth. You were getting to the point where all of this constant winding you up had you wanting him to fuck you absolutely stupid.

Aizawa felt warm, feverish. Like he was going to melt through the seat of the car and burn to cinders on the ground. He was smoldering like a pile of ash in your hand. Goddamn it was hard to concentrate now. Where was he at? Was there a world around the two of you? Did he even care? He wasn't sure if it was right to think of you like this, though, and it happened nearly every day since meeting you. That part of him had been lying dormant for what felt like years and now suddenly these feelings were coming for him with a vengeance. He wasn't sure what to do.

"We should.. we should grab some pumpkins. Do you... like the lumpy ones?"

Shit. Did he really just ask you that? God, you must have thought he was stupid.

But you didn't. You were eating this up.

"Dude. I love me a lumpy pumpkin," was your reply.

The two of you took in the crisp autumn air and October's bright blue sky as you sipped on a warm apple cider from the drink stand. Much to his initial disapproval, you finally got him to take a sip from your cup. His heart skipped a beat drinking from the same spout where your mouth had been just a few seconds prior. You took two small pumpkins from the display they had on top of some hay bales, slipped them into a big burlap tote bag, and then headed to the field to pick out bigger pumpkins for carving.

"Do you think frogs have friends?"

"I... what?"

He wasn't sure if you were being genuine with this question.

"Well, cows make friends, and.. I don't know, I was just thinking about how maybe when frogs start to get ready for the cold weather, they find another frog that they like, and then they hibernate next to them in the mud," your statement was matter-of-fact, "or I guess technically the frogs we have here go into a state of topor, not full hibernation. But still,"

Aizawa was taken aback at this topic. You were actually wondering about the loneliness of amphibians.

"Y/n, I don't think frogs get lonely. I doubt they have high enough brain functioning to care,"

"Or maybe they do, and we'll never know, because nobody stopped to find out,"

He enjoyed that you always spoke your mind. Even if someone didn't like what you had to say, you just started a conversation based on whatever thoughts you had in your head. You were smart, but whimsical. It was so easy to talk to you and have a logical dialogue without feeling like it was getting stale.

You kicked at rocks, marveled at the fall leaves, and had this general sense of wonder. Aizawa found it fascinating how dichotomous you were. You were kind of mysterious, but you still had this youthful charm about you. He found himself to be more apathetic than anything. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't see the beauty in the things around him, he just didn't tend to pay attention at all. He was always burning the candle at both ends and pushing himself to his absolute limits, so what was the point? Who cared of frogs had friends?

"I wish I shared your passion for life," he commented.

"My grandparents were like this, and they raised me, so I guess it rubbed off. Actually, they're kind of why I came here. My grandpa always spoke about how beautiful Okinawa was. After they passed, I jumped at the opportunity to come see Japan for myself,"

You hadn't talked about anything that wasn't skin deep in what seemed like an eternity, and you felt like he was really listening, processing your words.

"Oh!" You stopped in your tracks, "I can't believe I forgot to give you this,"

From the bottom of your burlap sack, you pulled out a bag of salty black licorice.

"This is for you,"

His favorite snack.

Aizawa reached out his hand and took it delicately, as if it were precious to him.

"How did you know?"

"I saw you eyeing some once at a corner store. When I saw they had some here, I had to get it for you. They make it in house, so I bet it's delicious!" You sounded so excited over a bag of licorice.

Feeling a bit silly over frogs and candy, you blushed, cheeks already slightly ruddy from all of the walking.

"But we should probably go back to picking out some pumpkins, I guess," your words came out much smaller than you intended them to.

His heart swelled. You were paying attention to him, too.

The gourds were all shapes and sizes, all the colors from striking persimmon to pale yellow, from perfectly round to as lumpy as the night was long.

Clearly, you picked the lumpiest.

Loading your goods into the car, a flash of color at another stand caught Aizawa's eye.

"You stay here. I'll be right back," he commanded.

"Okay. Just let me know if you want any help,"

The stand was full of handmade trinkets: wooden hair combs, decorative mirrors with widdled handles, and silk kimonos. One garment stood out to him--emerald green with goldenrod flowers patterned over it--that, for some reason, made him think of frogs. This would do nicely.

Upon his return, he found that he really wasn't sure how to give you a gift. This was certainly not his forte. He couldn't even remember the last time he gave someone a present. Then again, he couldn't recall that last time he had received one before this day, either. Besides, you were worth the uncomfortability.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't form. You looked slightly amused, which made him even more nervous.

"I have something for you. To repay you for the gift you gave me earlier," his voice uttered out much smaller than he remembered.

The joy that spread from cheek to cheek was practically tangible for him as he handed you the paper bag. Your eyes were alight like fireworks.

"You got me a present?"

You felt a fluttering in your chest. You didn't even care what it was, he explicitly thought of you, and that made you happy in earnest.

The container was compact enough that you figured there was some kind of candy to be retrieved from it, but you opened it to see green and yellow fabric. You were stunned when you recognized it from the stand you two had passed on your way out. It had to have been expensive.

"Aizawa.. this is too much. I-I can't accept this," you stammered.

"Yes you can. Like I said, it's for the licorice,"

"This isn't exactly in the same category as candy, though, I--"

"Just try it on," he interrupted you, his hand raised as if to stop any further protesting.

And you thought about protesting--you really did--but caved, knowing he wouldn't give up until you accepted it. Your attempts to dispute his gift would be futile. So you marveled at the silk garment, feeling its slick material between your fingers. You'd never owned something like this before. You took off your cardigan and draped the kimono over your body, savoring how soft and airy it was on your skin, feeling like a princess.

"I'm not sure if this is a color you like, so if you don't like it, we can go exchange it," his voice had a hushed tone.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"No. No, it's perfect. I absolutely love it. Thank you so much, this was so sweet of you," your words rang out like a bell.

The breeze picked up and blew the soft locks of your hair as you stood there in your gown, picturesque, cottony clouds lining the skies.

You looked like a painting.

"Alright then," you said with vigor, "takoyaki is on me!"

————

When you returned home, you carved Aizawa's pumpkin together (a very classic orange pumpkin, perfect for Jack O Lanterns), swatting your cats off of the counter as they came to sniff at the seedy innards laid out on a sheet of parchment paper. You felt at home like this. You felt safe, content, like this is how life was meant to be.

You watched him as he placed the carved Jack O Lantern out on your porch, and took notice of the strands of raven hair that were falling out of his messy bun, delicately sweeping over his strong jaw and neck. The knot in your stomach returned, and with it came a sensation like you were on the downhill slope of a rollercoaster. It was a feeling of passion welling up inside of you, ready to tear open at your seams.

And you wanted more.

You wanted him to want you.

Worried that he might go home now that the sun had set, you asked if he would want to watch a movie with you. He was elated at the idea of cuddling up with you on the couch. How could he say no to that?

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Have you ever watched Hocus Pocus?"

"No, never heard of it,"

"What?! It's a Halloween classic! I'll change into some house clothes and then we'll get started. Be right back, Shota,"

A chill ran down his spine, prickling the back of his neck at the sound of you saying his name. You called him Shota. And now you were comfortable enough with him to change into pajamas. He felt almost floaty.

Aizawa was expecting you to come out in sweatpants and a t-shirt, something comfy, something plain. He enjoyed the prospect of you coming out in soft pants and fuzzy socks. There was something so heartwarming and cozy about it that he--holy fucking shit.

You came out, as casual as humanly possible, in a pair of tiny little sleeping shorts and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt with no bra. The shirt was soft, but snug, and showed off every curve of your body through the semi-sheer fabric. He had already gotten a good look (or ten) at your ass in a nice pair of pants, but this.. were you trying to kill him? You were already all legs, and now the shorts... Aizawa scanned your body to see that you were wearing stockings that hugged your legs and made divots in the plush flesh of your upper thighs. They were Ninja Turtle green and woven like a tubesock.

Of course you were wearing these fuck me socks. That way, you could definitely say that you were completely covered from head to toe, that these were normal house clothes. Nothing here but regular old pajamas. And look, see, you totally did like green!

Your couch was small, but Aizawa sat on one end, hoping that you would sit alllll the way on the other end so that he could curl up as much as possible and you wouldn't see... things. But you weren't having it. You wanted to be able to cut the tension with a knife. You wanted to make sure this sexual frustration was palpable until it drove him to action. So you snuggled up next to him and rested your head on his chest.

He took notice that the shorts nearly disappeared when you sat down, and thought about what they might look like if you were bending over. Your tits looked great through your clothes, but your ass drove him wild. He wished for the TV to mess up somehow so you would have to get down on all fours to fix it, maybe even spread your legs just enough that your sex would peek over the side of the material, sopping and messy and begging for him.

Oh lord Jesus, Vishnu, Thor, whoever the fuck was up there just give him strength. Give his waistband extra elasticity and give his poor heart a rest so that maybe you wouldn't hear it pounding through his chest. But you did hear it. You knew exactly what you were doing when you placed your hand on his thigh and traced your fingertips down to his knee while you stared ahead at the TV screen.

Under the guise of laughing at a witch riding a vacuum cleaner, you squeezed his leg, and he jumped in his seat.

Oh.

This was torture for him.

And you liked that.

A lot.

He made a pathetic attempt to stealthily lean into you, just enough so that he could get a better whiff of your hair. You smelled like vanilla and something a little floral and spicy, like a jasmine rice desert. The thought crossed his mind that you might taste just as sweet.

"Doing okay, Shota?" Your voice this time was chesty, sensual, almost like an invitation rather than a question, and you could feel him shudder in response.

There it was again. Shota. He fucking loved the way his name dripped from your lips like honey. He nodded in agreement and you patted his leg to let him know you felt the nod.

You could feel your shorts heating up and your breathing changing pace when you heard him let out little sputters of air at your touch. It was intoxicating, hearing him get excited, smelling the sweat building between the two of you in this blissful hell of your own making.

Small beads of liquid made a wet spot up near his waistband while he took in your body heat, trying his best to focus on the screen and not the friction of you against him, or the fact that he could see your nipples plainly through your shirt. Readjusting yourself, you stretched and let out a whine in the process, and your elbow brushed up against something in his lap.

With a quick grunt, he stood up suddenly, and said "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back,"

You gave him an "okay", and paused the movie for him. Maybe it was just in your imagination, but you could swear you saw a tent in his pants when he got up.

What you wouldn't give to toy with him for just a little while longer.

He shuts the door behind him slowly, calmly, before he's pawing at the buttons of his pants. A curse leaves his lips as he wrestles his leaking member from the confines of his boxers. 

"Little fucking cocktease," he grits, burying the words into his lower lip. 

God, he just couldn't take it anymore. He thought about you moaning, whining, mewling into his ear, your bodies entangling. How would he take you? If he had the option, he thinks he'd really like to watch you ride his cock, see the look on your face when you take all of him inside of you.

"Gonna have you begging for it. Fuck, do you even know what you do to me?" His voice trails into a groan, and he folds forward, bucking into his hand and holding onto the sink to steady himself.

A few whispers of your name fall from his lips, and he swipes at the slit of his aching length, smearing his precum along his shaft for lubrication. He's close. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, he's already feeling that knot within him frayed, about to snap. Just a few more strokes and he's jerking back his head, ropes of his release now dripping across his palm.

He finished in record time, expecting to have a sense of relief, but only finding that he craved more. Guilt took ahold of him when the thought crossed his mind that he shouldn't be thinking of you this way. This was so shameful, what he just did, making his hand all sticky from thinking of you. He rinsed his face with cool water to get rid of some of the sweat, and exited, stating that he needed to head home due to not feeling well.

Your heart sank, and the realization hit you that you may have made him uneasy with your forwardness. Maybe he didn't like you that way after all. You hoped that you hadn't just ruined things between the two of you.

Aizawa didn't want to hurt your feelings, and he could tell that he probably did; but he needed to get out of your apartment before he bent you over the couch.

So he left your place after an entire 12 hours together, beating himself up for not making a move, harboring resentment for his own lack of initiative. He was used to coming after villains, but this whole "love" thing really scared him. Love? He mulled the word over in his head. Worried it between his teeth. You two hadn't spent a single day without seeing each other in like two months. And he sure as hell didn't see himself picking out pumpkins with Hizashi any time soon.

He laid there in bed, trying his best to fall asleep, but the day just replayed in his head on a loop. His mattress was normally soft and welcoming, something that could easily lull him to sleep, but tonight it felt empty. Tonight, he felt alone. Until his phone buzzed from his nightstand.

You: is it too soon to text you?

Him: it's never too soon for you to talk to me.

You: good :) I was worried when you left in such a hurry.

You: and I miss you already.

Aizawa sat up in bed after reading your most recent message. You... missed him. He wasn't sure if he was reading that right. The blue light from his phone illuminated his face, now standing apart from the inky blackness of his room. He could feel you radiating from it.

Him: maybe you should stop by my place tomorrow afternoon then.

You: I'd really like that.

You: good night, Shota. <3

Him: see you soon.

————

He made sure to take care of himself in the shower before the next afternoon, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. Best case scenario, now he would last longer if you two ended up fooling around. He even double checked that Eri was in the dorms at UA again today. That was just wishful thinking, though. Sex these days would probably only come from pity for him. Poor washed-up hero, missing an eye, missing a leg. That's the last thing he needed right now.

He cleaned up around his apartment, wiping down the counters and making the area look welcoming for you. Why did he want to impress you so badly? Ugh, this was so embarrassing. He never worried about what people thought of him in any other scenario, but now, here he was, fluffing his brand new throw pillows and applying cologne to his neck and chest.

You knocked on the door, straightening the skirt of your dress, the same one you were wearing the morning you two first met. Aizawa answered the door in a gray t-shirt and black sweatpants, his hair loose and his eyes heavy-lidded when he looked down at you. That dress again. Clingy, short, nipped at the waist to show off your curves. Christ, you were beautiful. He welcomed you in, the smell of bergamot wafting from him.

His apartment was bigger than yours by quite a bit. It had a floating island in the kitchen, slate colored walls, a black sectional positioned in the living room atop a white shag rug, and circular lights that were recessed within the ceiling.

"Wow, your place is so nice. Shit. I'm sorry I made you come to my hovel last night," you partially joked, impressed with how well his home was put together.

"That's stupid. I liked being at your place,"

You saw something moving out of the corner of your eye through the doorway of the other room.

"Is that a punching bag?" You asked with a wry smile.

"Gotta keep myself in shape. Want to give it a go?" His voice was low, almost challenging you to take him up on the offer.

"Oh, I don't know. I lift weights but I don't really do a lot of cardio. I'd just end up humiliating myself, honestly," you said sheepishly.

"Come on, y/n, spar with me. I'll go easy on you,"

"Okay, okay," you gave in and walked toward the next room, which you could see upon closer inspection was full of gym equipment. You felt out of your element, but you were willing to make yourself look like a fool if it meant he was enjoying himself.

You gave the bag a light punch as Aizawa held onto it, half afraid that you would mess it up somehow, or maybe even break your damn hand. It felt like it was full of some kind of particulate. Maybe sand? Oh god, you probably looked like some kind of lazy sack, not even knowing how to punch a fucking bag.

"I know you can do better than that. You've got more power in you. Come on,"

You punched again.

"Harder. Don't hold back!" He growled.

That was really fucking sexy, actually, and now you were a little distracted. You balled your hand into a fist, made sure your thumb was facing outside, and used all of this pent up frustration to wallop the daylights out of the bag. Your knuckles made contact with a padded thud, and you let out a small grunt.

"Atta girl," he praised you, his voice like whisky.

God, hearing him say that was like a dopamine hit. You were disoriented. You were already clumsy, and now your brain felt like a can of cranberry sauce splattered out onto a plate.

Aizawa stepped away from the bag, a terse expression plastered onto his face.

"Now act like I'm coming after you and try to pin me. Remember, it doesn't matter that I'm bigger than you. Use strategy to overpower me,"

You mustered up all of your strength, all of your courage, and leapt toward his torso. He didn't try to block you, so you knew he was going easy on you... but you also knew you didn't do it right when you went off to the side and started to veer straight for the wall. He grabbed you by both wrists and wedged himself between your legs in order to cushion your fall, and you landed upright, straddling him as he lay on his back.

You were both panting, eyes dilated, a wildness boiling within you like animals. He let go of your wrists and your hands softly found their rest on his chest as it heaved.

"Y/n," he laughed, "that was awful,"

You rolled your eyes and shifted your weight into less of a stiff position.

"I told you I was bad at this. I am a lover, not a fighter," you pressed your hand to your chest as you spoke. 

Moving ever so slightly on top of him, you saw his eye widen, his lips parted to let a small gasp escape from them. Panic has set in. 

"Get up. Please," his tone is highly-strung and fearful.

He looks genuinely terrified, scrambling beneath you, the only reason you're still in his lap like this due to his apprehension to hurt you by accident.

"Shota, wha--" your question is cut off by the feeling of something poking against your clothed sex.

Oh. 

Oh.

A red hue painted his entire face at the realization of the situation he was in, his blood pulsing through his body rapidly, the sound of it rushing in his ears.

"Why," you said breathily "don't you want me?"

Overstimulated, his brain didn't process what you'd just said to him.

Your lungs feel like they're about to lunge straight out of your chest, your core aching to be filled. You'll have to make sure that he really gets the point. Now was the time to be honest with him, maybe even be a little dirty. It's now or never.

"I want to know.. I mean.." talking felt hard. Your blood supply seemed starved from your brain.

"Do you touch yourself when you think of me?"

He was trembling like a leaf beneath you, caged in by the plush of your thighs. Was this a trick question? Yes, he just fucked himself to you this morning, AND last night in YOUR bathroom. Is that what he was supposed to say? He swallowed thickly, clamoring to gather up some kind of sentient thought to say to you.

"I do," you filled the gap of silence, "I think of you that way. A lot, actually,"

You ground your pelvis up and down his length, the fabric of his pants rough against him, eliciting a grunt through his gritted teeth.

"I.. f-fuck, I-I dunno how to.. answer that," he's been reduced to this mumbling mess on the floor, that silver tongue suppressed by the sweet press of your warmth to his cock.

You took his shaking hand and placed it between your thighs, right on the dampness that was spreading at your center, sopping through what little material covered them. 

"I want you, Shota. I want you bad," your words were like poetry spouting from your lips.

He rubbed you through your wet panties, soaked and clinging to you like a second skin. Were you this wet for him? He delights in the way your breath hitches, how you squirm atop him, your eyes heavy and lustful. Shota gives one last languid stroke up the lace and then pulls them to the side for easier access to your clit. He rubs light circles around it and watches you writhe, taking in the noises you were making, so painfully hard he felt as though he would cum in his pants just from watching you. He stopped his teasing and placed both hands on your hips, the pair of you frenzied for more.

You crashed your lips to his, both of you giving in to a hungry kiss, passionate and blistering with heat, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him into you, starved for his taste. He keened into your touch as if it would soon disappear. Leaving the rough stubble of his cheeks only to grab a handful of his mussed hair, you tugged at it, causing him to moan into your mouth, and you swallowd down each noise greedily. He explored your body with haste, grabbing your ass, sinking the pads of his fingers into your skin. You could feel him throbbing underneath you, so you palmed him through his pants, and with a swift jerk, he threw his head back onto the floor, not even caring to register the pain of it.

"Fuck. Y/n. If you keep going..."

You tugged at the waist of his pants, then dragged featherlight touches across his exposed cock teasingly. He felt you smile against his skin as you nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he lets out a muffled groan that tapered off into a high-pitched whine, desperate and needy.

He let out an involuntary whimper, almost pitiful with how much yearning was within it.

"You gonna cum for me already? Hmm?"

That was it.

He couldn't fucking take it anymore.

Something within him snapped and a growl poured from him, rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

With hurried hands, he pulls your dress over top your head, revealing that you were wearing nothing but lacy black panties underneath. You were stunning. Like a Greek statue of Aphrodite herself. He was never able to fully imagine your naked form before, and this was a perfect frame of reference for later. He wanted nothing more than to get absolutely drunk off of you. And he gets you all to himself. He can't hardly believe his luck.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," his voice was raw and saturated with desire, a gravel to it, burning like whisky.

"I want you to touch me," you murmur, suddenly feeling shy in the sweltering heat of his gaze.

"Touch you?" Aizawa said with a chuckle, "I'm going to devour you,"

Before you were given the chance to react, he bucked into you, then slid you from his lap and onto the floor, gripping your underwear and throwing them off on your way down. He took off his shirt expeditiously to reveal his muscular form, and you admire the lines that bisect his abdomen, eyes nearly rolling into your skull when they land at the tent in his pants. He looks big. Like, concerningly big. You ran your fingers across the scars on his chest, which gave an almost tickling sensation, all the way down to the hair that trailed from his naval to his pants. He was beautiful. So fit that he looked like he could play himself in a movie.

Casting the clothing aside, he lays you flat onto the floor, kissing from your lips, to your neck, to your nipple where he sucked and flicked his tongue, using his free hand to caress the other, groping hungrily at your plush flesh. You moaned, breathy and meek, at his touch. Separating from you, his pupil was blown out as your pheromones hit him in the face, and he pulled your legs apart to fully expose you.

"Look at your pretty little pussy,"

He slipped a digit inside of you and did a curling motion until he found the spot that made you whimper underneath him, watched as your face went from shocked to a look of pleading for more, lashes fluttering.

He clicked his tongue.

"And look at you. So fucking needy. So ready for me to take you,"

He removed his finger and used it to play with your clit, making waves of pleasure shoot through your body, a white-hot coil tightening in your core just above where he was touching.

"Sh-Shota... please, fuck me," you begged, nearly mewling.

He hissed through his teeth, peering down at you as if you were prey. The look on his face is wolfish, starving, nearly pained to be holding himself back. There's a wilderness within him that begs to be let loose. You want nothing more than to be destroyed by it, left a carnal mess upon the floor. 

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until you can't even sit without thinking of me," he taps your clit with his fingertips, "But first, I'm going to make you cum on my tongue," he was serious with his words, meticulous, making sure you knew exactly what he had planned for you. Sweet, slow burning anticipation sent tingles up and down your spine.

He put your legs on his shoulders and went back to the spot inside of you that made you cry, this time sucking on your clit in tandem, fully encapturing it within his lips. Your mouth was now agape in a breathy scream as you clamp down on his fingers, moving your hips in time with him, riding waves of pleasure as he brings you closer to the edge. He lets out an appreciative groan as you say his name, the noises coming out of you so lewd and sinful that you hope the neighbors don't call someone for a wellness check.

Aizawa absentmindedly pressed himself against the floor, nearly frantic for some kind of touch while he watched you squirming beneath him, but it does little to quell the ache he has in his center. You tasted like sweet tarts and made these lustful gasps, and it drove him absolutely mad to know he was doing that to you, that these reactions were from his own touch.

"Say my name," he speaks this phrase into the throbbing bud at your apex, and you shiver, close to careening off of the edge he'd just brought you to. 

"Shota.. fuck, keep going, please," you mewl, rolling your hips. 

He nips at your inner thigh, velvet flesh pillowing between his teeth, and then drags the length of his tongue up your clit in one torturously long stroke. 

"Louder. I want everyone to know who's about to make you cum," the steel in his gaze is sharp enough to slice you. 

So you oblige him, moaning his name, chanting it like a mantra as he continues to lap at you once more. You can feel the pressure building, building, building until it finally spills over like a dam. He moans at the realization, feeling your pussy spasm under his tongue.

"Oh my god.. Oh fuck, Shota!" You cry out for him as you melt into his mouth.

He's breathless as he pulls himself away from you, mouth slick, still slipping his fingers in and out of you in an allowance to ride out the rest of your orgasm. He looks feral. Like he could tear into you. Destroy you.

He drags his cheek across your thigh.

"Good girl," he grunts, "good fucking girl,"

You look up at him with your mouth partially open, your eyes heavy with want, and with one fell swoop you sit up and pull down his sweatpants to reveal his throbbing cock, wet and dripping from the tip. You take the whole thing into your mouth, sucking, swirling your tongue, cranking your hand around his shaft like you're ready to milk the soul straight out of him. He gasps, moving his hips to pump into your mouth as you open wider, holding out your tongue so you can take in as much of his length as possible. He brought you closer until you were practically flush against him, all the while you were committing the look on his face to memory.

You can tell this is about to break him, so you tighten your grip in a pulsating pattern, moaning on his length to send vibrations through him. His movements are becoming erratic, fervent, and you cannot fucking wait to see him come apart at your doing. You run the flat of your tongue across a particularly sensitive spot along his shaft, your arousal building once more when you see the way he pinches his brows together, how he ruts into your mouth like some inexperienced virgin. You just feel too fucking good.

Suddenly, he pulls himself from your mouth with a vulgar pop, and you're gasping for sweet breaths of air after some of the sloppiest head you've given in your life.

"I knew you'd be good at that," Aizawa chokes out, his dick bobbing in front of you, "but we're not done yet,"

He lightly pushed you back onto the ground and placed your ankles up onto his shoulders, putting his tip right up against your entrance. His muscles twitched in anticipation and you reveled in his godlike form.

"Is this okay?" He asked you, gently.

You laughed a bit at the question.

With all the heat and want you can channel, you look up at him from your place on the floor and rasp "ruin me, Shota,"

He gives you a wicked smile, one you've never seen him wear before, and pushes himself inside of your aching pussy, holding onto your leg for leverage. You can feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, a bit unprepared for his full girth inside of you. It doesn't take long for you to start moving along with him though, and he begins to thrust harder, pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Biting your lower lip, you throw your head back, attempting to keep from screaming as he delves into you. He removes his hand from your leg to grab your jaw, and locking eyes says, "Eyes on me. I want to see the fucking look on your face when I make you cum,"

This coaxes a moan from you, and he gives a gutteral response to his cock being squeezed.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. God, you're so tight, fuck," his voice is husky and deep.

Your cunt hugs him tighter with every word.

He needed more.

Aizawa takes his free hand and starts to rub your clit in circles, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you can feel that knot in your stomach forming again. You're about to come undone already, and he can feel you clamping around him like a vice.

"Fuck that feels so good," your voice is heady and needful.

His pacing became erratic once more and his ministrations on your clit became almost desperate. He was barely holding on, whimpering, sweat dotting his brow.

"I knew you were fucking teasing me. Coming out in those tiny shorts. Know what I shoulda done? Should've fucked you right there on the couch. Should've bred your tight little cunt," he leans down to fill some of the gap between you, a few tendrils of his raven hair falling to cling to his face.

He pistons into you harder, "Swear to god, I'm gonna fuck every single thought out of that pretty little head. Wanna tease me like that? Take your fucking punishment. I.. f-fuck!" He feels you come unraveled all over his cock as you ride him from there on the floor, making sounds that hitch in your throat like ragged bleats. He made note of your blissed-out expression and then let out a sharp gasp, your walls almost too snug for him to handle.

You whined in a small voice, still finishing, your gaze not breaking when you tell him, "make a mess in me,"

That's all it took for him to lose it, giving into his pleasure and allowing himself to fill you up with what felt like gallons of cum, letting out strangled moans as his entire body throbs.

Panting, he pulls out of you, watching as his release leaks from between your legs. He wasn't usually interested in sex at all after getting off, but seeing you like this, glowing with sweat and hormones, covered in him. It made him weak. He pulls apart your cunt with his thumbs, watches your glistening sex twitch, cum dripping. He's going to remember this if he ever needs to get off in two seconds flat.

The two of you lay in the floor together, floating, riding the high in a breathless haze.

"Be my girlfriend, y/n," Aizawa was the first to speak.

You were taken aback.

"What?"

You never thought him to be the type to be alright with labels.

"I like you. Not just in the way that I want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you be with me?"

You ran your fingers across his jawline as a warm smile spread across your face.

"I'll be your girlfriend. But there are stipulations,"

"Anything. Whatever you want, it's yours," Aizawa hopes that his longing isn't too obvious, that he isn't too eager, but another part of him doesn't even care anymore.

"You have to be my boyfriend," your words are like a breeze through a windchime.

His eye takes purchase in your face as he leans into you, the kiss he offers you this time languid, lazy, loving instead of a mess of teeth and lips.

I love you, he thought, pulling away enough that your foreheads touch. God, how I love you. Just allow me to worship at the altar of your body once more.

Before you can stop yourself, and as if you can read his mind, you speak to him in a voice that's almost a whisper, "I think I love you,"

He looks dumbfounded, awestruck.

He finds his voice enough to say, simply, "I love you," followed by a kiss pressed to your nose.

The day that follows is soft and halcyon. You bask in one another like the afterglow is your lifeline, here in your own private world, all stardust and warmth. You don't know what the future holds. You stopped living in a world of 'what ifs' a long time ago. But you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you'll be there with him.

And he'll be there with you.

Like he always is.

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Chapter 2: Getting To Know You

You all get back to the hideout in the middle of the night, having shaken down a few members of the Shie Hassaikai for information. Apparently there's a man who goes by Overhaul who's really making a name for himself. He's been working on bullets that can erase quirks, and with this rumor floating around, Shigaraki's interest has been sufficiently piqued. He had to know more, for the progression of the league--thus your involvement tonight. 

"I can't believe you made that guy think his ex came back just to have her leave again!" Toga comments as you lounge about in the den. 

Her golden eyes shine as she takes a spot next to you at the counter. There's something surreptitious about her expression, shifting behind her gaze, highly strung and neurotic. You think perhaps it's her desire for blood that wasn't quite sated by today's mission. 

"I can't believe he cried so much," Twice weighs in, gritting after, "I'll give 'em something to really cry about," 

"I can't believe something like that actually worked," Dabi scoffs, taking a swig of whisky straight from the bottle. 

You fold your arms behind your head, "Hey, I work with what I've got. He said he wanted his girlfriend back but couldn't handle it going both ways I guess. She must've fucked his shit up," 

It's still surprising for the league to hear you curse like this with as gentle as you are with them. But that's what happens when you grow up in a world of villains. The words have all but lost their meaning to you by now.

"Psh. What a pussy. I'd never let someone make me that weak and pathetic," Dabi checks his phone to seem disinterested in the conversation in the hope that this catches your attention, but no such luck. Having you around is the only time he's ever had to play mysterious and brooding and it's pissing him off. 

This elicits an eyeroll from Spinner, "It ain't weak to love someone. Maybe you're just not strong enough to handle it,"

"So you're an expert now? Got yourself a little crush and now lizard's an expert?" 

"Shut up, Dabi, seriously!" Spinner looks frantic, face beet red, fists balled at each side.

You could cut the tension with a knife. 

"Both of you need to shut up," Shigaraki interjects, "It's not like either of you NPCs have a shot at a relationship with anyone,"

Mr. Compress tsks as he folds one elegant leg across the other, sitting on the couch as if he were attending a fine theater production while Toga claps and kicks her feet. It feels like any time you get involved with the league, regardless of the shape or form, there ends up being some sort of argument. This has you wondering what exactly you're doing wrong.

"Guys, come on now. We're all a team. We should be supporting each other," Twice gives a thumbs up before turning to you, "Right, Yumemi?"

Dabi's grip on the whiskey bottle goes white-knuckled, though his face doesn't move. He isn't sure what's going on between you two, but whatever it is he thinks he's seeing, he better fucking not be. You're way out of everyone's league--his included--but Dabi knows he's the only one who can handle you. Twice and Compress need to back down. 

Or he'll make them.

"Way to suck up, Twice..." Spinner mutters under his breath with a barely audible "kissass" grumbled from Shigaraki.

Compress stands, hands animated when he says, "I, for one, will not be partaking in their squabbles. I'd like to instead thank you for getting us that information, Miss Saito. We couldn't have done this without you,"

Your face is going up in flames over all of the recognition being given to you, stating, "I'm just doing what I came here to do,"

"And so modest. We really don't deserve you," Compress continues, and you blush like mad, fiddling with a lock of your hair. 

Your bright doe eyes dart up, lashes fluttering, cheeks dark, the gentle parting of your lips just enough to show how pouty and kissable they are. The realization hits the group simultaneously in some way or another: you look so cute and flustered like this because of none other than Mr. Fucking Compress. 

"You're probably quite tired now," he says with the flick of a gloved hand, reaching to brush the hair out of your face. 

He wants to see you like this all the time. Wants you so gorgeous and emotional beneath him so that he can take you into an embrace. But so does everyone else in this room, and he knows that. He has to get you alone somehow. 

"A little, but I'm sure you guys all tire out when you use your quirks. I'll be alright,"

"What can I do to help?" Mr. Compress sets a hand upon your shoulder. The intimacy behind behind this touch combined with the secrecy of his mask is throwing you.

"I'm fine, really, I--"

"No, what can I do?" Dabi asks sardonically, "These chucklefucks will just mess it up. But you can trust me to get whatever you need," 

From your peripheral, you see Spinner pad away down the hall. At least it seems as though he's had the good sense to evacuate before things become tumultuous once more. 

"I don't even have to leave to get you something. I can have a double get it and still keep you company," says Twice, looking quite proud of himself. 

Shigaraki removes the hand which he calls Father from across his face, stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, "I can just have Kurogiri warp me to get whatever you need. Don't even bother with these noobs, Yumemi. I have whatever you want at my fingertips," he draws a sharp breath, "Unless I've misjudged, and you're actually stupid enough to rely on one of them to get anything done for you,"

Spinner returns with a pillow and a sleeping bag, then lays them out onto the couch, fluffing them purposefully as he says, "There. Now you don't even have to leave to get comfortable," he casts a bashful gaze over his shoulder, "We could relax and watch a movie if you're not tired enough to sleep,"

Toga nods her head in approval, taking you by the hand and leading you to the couch where she snuggles up next to you. 

"Hey--!" Spinner is all but seething. 

"Oh no, was this spot for you, Spinner?" She smiles, wide and genuine, "If anyone wanted to sit here next to Yumemi, go ahead and tell me and I'll get up so you two can cuddle. At least, that's why I would assume someone wanted a seat next to our little Mimi,"

Tomura's stomach is in knots, Spinner is more red than he's ever been before, Compress is squeezing the counter so tightly it's a miracle it hasn't splintered, Dabi's hands are actively smoking, and Twice is kicking around at the floor like he might actually cry. Damn, did everyone really want to sit next to you that badly? You know it's wrong, but it makes you feel kind of special. You never had a chance to experience the social hierarchies of public school, however, this makes you feel popular.

"A movie is a great idea, Spinner," he smirks as the other men shoot him a grimace, "Why don't we have a movie night? That's what I do at home when I want to relax," the group seems to ease when you suggest this. 

Everyone settles down to watch a movie, the first of which you've agreed upon being Scream with Halloween right around the corner. This ends up being fun at first, the room filled with phrases of "don't go in there" and "you better run". However, it's closer to morning than it is to night, and the day has been long. You and Mr. Compress end up being the last ones awake as the movie comes to and end.

"Aren't you tired, Miss Saito?" He leans over the arm of the couch with his question. 

You shift in your seat to face him, "I have trouble sleeping sometimes. What about you? Not tired after compressing Shie Hassaikai loot?"

"It's the same for me more often than not. I'm quite the night owl," he nudges some space between you and Toga as gingerly as he can manage to sit next to you. 

This is the opportunity he's been waiting for... so why is he so nervous? 

"Hey. Would you still be able to do me a favor? If your offer from earlier still stands, that is," your words send a chill down his spine. He finds himself backed against the couch's arm now, peering down at you as you bat those beautiful lashes at him.

Christ, you're pretty.

And now it's suddenly sweltering to the point that he feels like he's going to burst out of his skin. 

"Anything," he says just above a whisper. 

"Call me Yumemi, please," he watches your lips as you speak, "I'd like to hear you call me by my first name,"

Oh god oh fuck. 

You two are the only ones awake, and you're looking up at him with stars in your eyes, practically begging him to say your name. He feels every single ounce of courage and composure leave his body. He's reduced to nodding his head in agreement. 

"Thank you, Compress," you smile warmly at him, and his heart skips so many beats he's concerned for his wellbeing. You're going to give him fucking hypertension at this rate. 

"Atsuhiro," he states. 

"Hmm?"

Mr. Compress removes his mask for the first time since you've met. Granted, it's only been a few days, but he's the only one you haven't seen in civilian clothing yet, all of the others often out of their costumes shortly after they arrive at the hideout. He's very handsome when he takes off the black ski covering which lies beneath his white mask of magic. You weren't entirely positive what you had expected him to look like, but he certainly wasn't this good looking in your head. 

"My first name," he murmurs, "It's Atsuhiro. You.. you can call me that. If you want to,"

You place a hand on his arm, your scorching touch seemingly burning him through his clothes as you tell him, "I'd like that,"

He swallows so thickly he can hear his throat click. What are you doing to him? This isn't like him at all. He's a character, a performer, a modern and revolutionary trubidore--not some kid who just met the girl next door. He finds himself missing the heat when you return your hand back to your lap, nestling back down into the sleeping bag. You're so cute like this. So casual and sweet. 

"Atsuhiro," your voice calls out into the dark, like honey atop the TV glow, setting his skin to prickle in lines. 

"Yes?" He exhales sharply, previously unaware of the breath he'd been holding. 

"Wanna do something else since we're up?"

It's happening.

This entire stupid torturous week was all worth it because something is finally happening. 

He should play the lottery tomorrow because he is the luckiest man alive.

"I'd like that if you would," his tone has nearly taken an octave lower, husky and deep in his chest, his heart beating so wildly he's afraid it may leap from him entirely. 

You're leaning in now. This is it. You're about to--

Grab the remote.

Fuck. 

"What kind of movies do you like?" You ask him, exiting out of Scream. 

Compress settles himself, tries his best to calm his expression, which is no longer hidden behind the shield of his mask. He can feel how red and damp his face is getting, which is, in turn, making him even more red and damp. 

"Mostly classic film, old cinema. That sort of thing," he manages to reply.

"I love old films. I think I saw The King And I on here earlier if you like that one,"

His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, hands beginning to tremble. Atsuhiro isn't normally someone who lacks finesse, having always been charismatic and fearless; but you have him feeling oddly nervous, palms wet inside his gloves.

"I love that one," he resigns himself to this simple, lacking sentence.

"Perfect. That's what we're doing, then," you select the movie on the screen, "So what other things do you like?"

You seem so eager to get to know him. 

It isn't often that you have opportunities like this in your line of work. Sure, getting close to people can end up biting you in the ass if they get taken down by whoever you're up against at the time--but they call it team-building for a reason. Bonding strengthens the odds being in your favor, both for him and for you.

"Hmm. Well, I like to read," 

"What do you read?"

"Mysteries, mostly. Classics,"

"Oh, like Agatha Christie?" He appears excited by your recognition.

"Exactly like Agatha Christie!" He straightens in his spot, "Are you familiar with her works?"

You mull over his question, "I've read a couple of her books. And Then There Were None, Murder On The Orient Express. I think that's it, though,"

"Do you read often?" Compress finds himself longing to continue your conversation.

Why? This, he can't say. All he knows is that he needs you to keep talking. 

"Yeah, I've always read a lot. Always watched a lot of movies, too, since my parents made sure I was home pretty much all the time growing up,"

"You were held captive by them?"

"No," you giggle, "Well, not exactly. My family is notorious for villainy on both sides so they were seriously protective,"

"A kindred spirit, then. My own family is infamous as well," 

The sound of old, wobbly violins ends the chatter for you both. It's soft, a little eerie, and absolutely captivating. You hum along quietly to the music, causing his heart to stutter, sloppy and rough behind his ribs. He looks down to see you getting drowsy, head bobbing and eyes glassy as Getting To Know You lulls you to sleep. Your head rests on his shoulder for a moment before you jerk awake once more. 

"Sorry," you mutter, too sleepy to be embarrassed by the sudden close contact. 

"It's alright. More than alright, actually, if you'll just let me do something," Compress wriggles out of his overcoat and folds it on the couch behind him, in part so that you can rest on the softer shirt beneath it, and also so he can get some much needed relief for how hot he's become, "There. This should be more comfortable for you Miss--ah--Yumemi,"

Your eyes are so heavy that you don't even think twice before lying against him again, "That's sweet, Atsuhiro. Thank you,"

Atsuhiro watches the steady rise and fall of your chest, studies your features as they become lax and peaceful. The screen splashes colors of light across the contours of your face, the arch of your lashes casting shadows over the apples of your cheeks, new hues blooming in your hair. With the lightest touch he can offer, he tucks the few strands of hair behind your ear that have fallen into your face. His thumb lingers for a few seconds to graze your bottom lip.

He removes his gloves to trace the pad of his finger across your jawline, to quell this ever-growing need to have you close to him. It's a feeling he can't quite understand. You're more than ornamental to him now, excelling past a pretty face. And you're so soft. So warm and comforting. Having you draped over him this way is like being covered in a blanket. He finds himself drifting off, eyes so heavy it's as if they're weighed down by rocks. 

When he next awakens, he's being tapped on the forehead by Twice, who whisper-screams, "You piece of shit, you're sleeping with her?"

"What?" Atsuhiro is barely awake, the vestiges of sleep still present in his bones.

"She's all over you! You snuck onto the couch when the rest of us were sleeping so she could fall asleep on you and then you could fall asleep with her like this!" Twice points animatedly at your still sleeping form. 

At some point during the night, Mr. Compress had slid further down onto the couch, with you and Toga adjusting in kind. While Toga was pressed and almost folded into the far corner, you've dropped over his chest, arms wrapped around his neck and legs caging him in at either side of his waist. Atsuhiro gasps, cheeks slapped crimson, leading you to groggily groan and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. You're using him like a pillow. So fucking cute. 

"What's going on?" Dabi shuffles over, rousing Spinner in the process. They both stretch and yawn as they approach the new hub of the hideout: this godforsaken couch. 

"Compress slept with Yumemi!" Twice accuses, the whisper sharp in his throat.

"Excuse me?" Shigaraki hisses from his corner of the room. 

"Shh, you'll wake her," Compress holds you closer against him in a shameless display of superiority, "Twice is being literal, she fell asleep on me last night,"

Everyone else scoffs at his admittance, the room growing silent so you can continue to rest peacefully. 

"I'm still pissed," Spinner says with arms crossed.

You begin to wake soon thereafter, rustling beneath the sleeping bag, and everyone scrambles back to their original placements. When you open your eyes, lids undulating, you're face-to-face with Mr. Compress, his eyes wide and nearly panicked. 

"I'm sorry," you say, rubbing at your eyes as you press against his chest to rise, "That's so embarrassing. I can't believe I was all over you like this," you cup your blushing face in your hands. 

"No need for apologies. You kept me warm the entire night. I should really be thanking you," He remains horizontal, soft-spoken and slightly mussed, thumbs rubbing circles on your shoulders in a manner that feels intensely intimate. 

"Yumemi," the way he says your name is hushed, like a feather on the wind. 

Just as your mouth parts to speak, Dabi leans over Atsuhiro's face, locking eyes with you when he states, "I'm hungry. You want breakfast or what?"

"Breakfast? Sounds yummy," Toga says through the gravel of morning. 

"Y'know, I-I can make breakfast since I actually know how to cook," Spinner pipes up, "But I'd only be able to cook for us. I've never made for more than a person or two, so, feeding outside of me and you ain't really within my abilities,"

"Or I could take you out to eat since I'm the only one here who has any money," Shigaraki tells you frankly. 

"It's not even your money!" Dabi responds heatedly, his cerulean gaze flickering.

"Doesn't matter, I still have it,"

There's smoke billowing from the kitchen, followed by, "Nobody worry, I'm taking care of breakfast!" From Twice. 

"Oh man. Okay, I'm making breakfast, you guys just chill," you begrudgingly tell them, flipping the sleeping bag off of you. 

You don't normally like to cook, but this incident with Mr. Compress has you desperate to keep your mind off of it. You didn't dislike waking up like that, yet, that's what has you feeling some sort of way about it. 

But at least nothing like that will end up happening again. 

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Synopsis: At the behest of your Uncle Kagero, you agree to be a member of the League Of Villains, loaning out your quirk to aid in their cause. Everything seems to be going as planned--until the guys all start acting weird. Why do they bicker every time you're in a room? How are you going to get used to all this attention?

And who are you going to decide to give it back to?

●Mature themes ●Minors DNI ●Sexual Implications ●Suggestive Themes ●Eventual Smut

Link To Masterlist

WC: ~3,000

Chapter 1: Dibs

"C'mon, Yume! Couldn't you do your Uncle Kagero this one teensy little favor?" 

You bat your lashes at him, smiling, gentle as a dove when you ask him, "Do I get a cut of the finder's fee?"

Giran's eye twitches before he takes a long drag off of his cigarette. He hates that you're this well-versed in his career. It would be so much fucking easier if his kid sister didn't marry one of the most notorious villains the West could import, thus all but guaranteeing your involvement. In fact, both sides of your family have a long line of villainy, nearly each and every branch on the tree some kind of Yakuza or general criminal all the way down. You were hanging out in the back room of Uncle Kagero's office before you were out of diapers, absorbing this lifestyle since you were a zygote. Pushing back on giving you a cut this time would prove to be futile.

"Fuck--fine. You win, you get a quarter of their finder's fee," he relents. The cherry of his cigarette glows in the shadows of his dusty room as he rests his legs atop the corner of his desk, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Half or I'm not doing it,"

He nearly chokes, "What makes you think I'd give you half, you little shit!"

"Because you seem pretty desperate to bring this guy someone for his team. I'm guessing you need the money. And if you need the money bad enough, you'll settle for half of it," you say this all with the sweetest smile that you can muster. 

You've got him over a barrel. 

Giran taps his index finger on the chipped varnish of his desk, sucking at his teeth, bitter ash wafting through the air. The weather is mild now, but it's only fall. Winter is going to be thrust upon him before he knows it and then he's going to need heat this place. And he would rather freeze to death than ask your mom for cash to get the heat turned back on. Was he some high profile super villain? Of course not. But he made his money with his own two hands. Phoning his niece for a favor didn't count. 

Especially not if you were getting a cut.

This way, you're just another employee at a family business.

"Alright, I'll give you fucking half, Yumemi. Christ. Shoulda never taught you how to negotiate," Giran chuckles under his breath as he speaks, understanding the part he's played in your character, "Don't forget to tell your ma this time, yeah? She'll kill me if she finds out I'm why you didn't come home again,"

"Uncle, I'm an adult. Like, a real adult, I'm twenty four. Mom and dad need to learn to cut the cord already," you tell him with a roll of your eyes.

Giran pinches at the bridge of his nose, frustration becoming palpable, "Yumemi--"

"Alright, alright. I'll text her,"

"Thank you," he sighs. 

His amnesia doesn't work on your mom since she inherited the same quirk, so it's not like he can worm his way out of this situation if something goes awry. At least you're being reasonable about this aspect. Giran relaxes his shoulders and leans back in his chair. Your quirk fetches a pretty penny. On top of that, he can all but guarantee they'll agree to take you on immediately, as cute as you are. Might as well not throw away a sure thing. Half the cut isn't so bad, he thinks. 

"So who am I working for?" You pry, "Is it that guy who has beef with Gang Orca again?"

"No, not this time. Think a little younger,"

Younger? You were one of the youngest people in established villainy. Who the hell was he talking about?

He sends out a text that you sneakily read from over his shoulder to a person named Kurogiri:

I've got someone special for the league

"Pack your suitcase," he says, "I have a feeling they're not gonna turn you away,"

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗————˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You both step through a hazy black portal and into a bar, now face-to-face with the text recipient. He's more mist than man, though he would have to be solid under there somewhere with the way he wipes down shotglasses behind the counter, glass squeaking with every swipe. 

"Hello, Giran," a voice calls out from Kurogiri, in spite of his lacking a mouth, "Shigaraki Tomura and the others have yet to return, but they will be back momentarily," he turns his attention to you, yellow eyes flickering, "Are you our potential member?"

"I believe I am. My name is Saito Yumemi. It's very nice to meet you," the introduction you choose is quite the same as you always use, polite and pleasant. 

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well," Kurogiri responds in kind. 

He seems to be a mild and reasonable man. If this is who you'll be working with, you aren't worried about loaning out your quirk. 

Giran opens his mouth to speak, but as soon as he does, a portal is opened just to your left, revealing a small group of people who look to be somewhere around your age at a glance. Upon closer inspection, it appears as though you're in the median age group, though it's a bit difficult to tell with how they're dressed. Each of them gape awkwardly, caught somewhat off guard at your presence. A man with a heteromorphic quirk shuffles nervously, carding his fingers through pink hair as someone in ragged, dark clothing flecklessly stares. Another member, who looks to be dressed as a magician of sorts, dons a mask which shifts to an expression of shock. The others shift their weight from one foot to another as they wait for an explanation. A blonde girl in a school uniform is the first to approach you, fangs glinting as she flashes you a toothy grin, her demeanor much more cheerful than what you're used to. 

"I'm Toga Himiko!" She introduces herself immediately, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

"Hold on," a man with shaggy blue hair rasps from behind a hand, "We don't even know who this is yet. Giran. Who did you bring? She doesn't look like she would.. do this,"

"Shigaraki, let me introduce you to Saito Yumemi. She was born and bred into villainy, so don't worry, she's not as soft as she looks," Giran explains as he puffs a cigarette from between his teeth. 

"Hmm. What can she do?" Shigaraki continues his questioning as the others all mill around in the liminal space behind him. 

Giran grins, "Yumemi's quirk is Parasomnia. It allows her to put people into a dreamlike state, where they become, let's just say, very impaired. She can inflict nightmarish hallucinations on whoever her quirk is affecting if she so chooses. She's just gotta know their names for it to work," 

"Do aliases work?" Shigaraki pries for more information. 

"She--"

"It needs to be the full name. However, it's mostly just villains who are unregistered. If you're trying to take down heroes, this won't be a problem since they'll all have hero licenses, or will at least be on the path to obtaining one. It can only work on one person at a time, though," you interject, preferring to speak for yourself.

"Show me," he insists, "Toga Himiko is her given name. So show me what you can do,"

The girl in question simply smiles, willingly parking herself in front of you.

"Okay, then. Come at me," Toga doesn't even flinch before she lurches in your direction with a knife she's pulled out of her skirt, giggling and giddy with bloodlust.

"Toga Himiko," you call to her, voice wispy, echoing in a dreamy haze. 

She stops dead in her tracks. 

"You look so tired. Aren't you tired?" Toga's eyes become heavy-lidded and glossy as she sinks to her knees, her smile reduced to a slight nudge at each side of her mouth, arms like lead at her sides, "What do you see?"

"I see.. UA high school," she's compliant and monotone, head bobbing before she drops onto her back entirely.

"What's your favorite color, Toga Himiko?"

"Pink. Oh, there's pink clouds. Just look at them," she looks as though she's about to float away.

"They're nice, aren't they? Now, why don't you tell me that secret you wanted to share. Remember?"

"Yeah. Of course I remember," Toga is now splayed out on the floor like a starfish, "I'm in love with Izuku and Ochaco. They're the best. I really want their blood,"

"As you can see, I'm able to get information this way. If suggestion doesn't work for them, I can put them into something similar to sleep paralysis, which usually does the trick. Works better if they tell me what they're afraid of but I can make them see anything, good or bad. It doesn't do any physical harm, but psychologically, it's quite damaging. If I don't keep talking to her, she'll wake up on her own when this wears off in about two minutes. I'll also need to rest if I use it for more than a couple of hours,"

It's quiet for a few beats, the room so still you could hear the breath of a mouse. 

"And what do you go by?" The silence is interrupted by Shigaraki. Two crimson eyes peer out from splayed, rigid fingers, haunting and vibrant. A chill runs down your spine. 

"I prefer to go by Nyx when conducting business, but I don't mind being informal when it's just us. You can call me whatever you would like in private," your uncle flinches at your words, the five male members of the league training their eyes on you--most of them flustered and blushing--all the while you're none the wiser. 

Mom and dad have always been villains, which means you didn't go to public school. Your whole life has been a slew of private tutors and playdates that were arranged by your collective parents, not by yourself or the other children. After around age ten, this was exclusively female companionship, your father becoming very cautious of his only daughter. As a result, you're polite, studious, and well-spoken... but horribly under-socialized. Namely with the opposite sex.

Shigaraki's eyes won't meet yours when he says, "Welcome to the League of Villains," he makes a vague motion with his hand, "Kurogiri, give Giran his fee. I'll show her to her room,"

"Why do you get to show her?" The man with piercing blue eyes and dark hair approaches. He smells like the smoke from a bonfire. 

"Because I'm in charge, Dabi, not you," Shigaraki bites. 

"Then shouldn't one of us take her to her new quarters so you're free to pursue other duties?" The magician interjects, offering you a gloved hand as he bows to you, "Mr. Compress, at your service. I'll be happy to show you to--"

"I should probably do it. You guys are super busy, and m-my room's on the way, so, it'd make more sense for me t'do it. Hey, I'm Spinner. It's nice to meet ya," the guy with the Stain getup says, eye contact fleeting.

"Did you do the dreamy thing? Was it neat?" Toga springs up from her spot on the floor, recovering quicker than you had expected, "Why does everyone look all red and sweaty?"

Giran rolls his eyes until you're sure they're scraping the back off his skull as Kurogiri hands him off a wad of cash, "Figured you'd fit right in here. I'll give ya your portion when things settle down. See ya, Yume," and with that, he's stepping through a portal. 

He's lucky you know he's good for it.

"No, you all have to work on your skills. Gotta fine tune those super cool skills. It's best if I walk her to her room," says a guy in a full body catsuit, a terse, "Piss off, assholes!" soon to follow.

"I said I'm walking her down there, Twice. Don't bother," Shigaraki sneers in such a way that you can tell he's becoming irritated.

"Counterpoint," says Dabi, "Fuck you, I'm doing it,"

Hubbub ensues. You're not entirely certain what you've done, but something has obviously set them off, the lot of them squabbling like elementary kids who want the same toy. Is this what younger guys are like? Seems like they'll fight over anything if walking someone to their room is such a commodity to them. How strange.

Toga doesn't speak a word when she takes you by the hand and leads you down the hall. The sharp chatter of bickering can still be heard as you two crest the doorway into a small room at the back of the bar. In it, there's a twin bed, a lamp, a nightstand, and a trunk for personal items. It's more of a prison cell than a room, but you've stayed in worse for smaller cuts of finder's fees. You'll just pretend it's a dorm or something. 

"Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, Yumemi?" She asks you, plopping onto your bed like it's her own. 

"No, not right now. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering," Toga kicks her legs, "I think it'll come up sooner or later is all,"

She flashes you a certain look, one you're not sure the meaning of, before she traipses back to the den of the bar, stating she'll be back later for a sleepover. You're not used to the company when on missions like this, but you're not opposed to it. In fact, what you mostly are is surprised, since you've recently put her to sleep and wrang the secrets out of her. Maybe she's used to having quirks tested on her, or maybe she genuinely doesn't care. Either way, you're grateful to have someone around to show you the ropes. Every villain organization runs a little differently and it'll make the adjustment that much easier this way. 

When Toga enters the den, the guys are still bickering, poking at one another's chests and stage whispering threats. 

"You're all so adorable," Toga coos at them, pressing her hands to her flushing cheeks. 

All of them snap their eyes to her. 

"Where's Yumemi?" Dabi asks, separating himself from the group to lean against the wall.

With a snicker, Toga explains, "I took her to her room since nobody else could decide who got to do it,"

"And that's Miss Saito to you," Mr. Compress chastises him with a shift of his mask. 

"She said we could call her whatever we wanted," is Dabi's retort.

"Wrong, fucker. She said I could call her whatever I wanted, so long as we're alone," Shigaraki corrects him as he mindlessly scratches at his neck. 

Spinner crosses his arms, "Boss, c'mon, that was the royal you, not YOU you,"

"Dibs," Dabi proclaims, flames sparking in his cerulean gaze. 

"You can't call dibs on a lady!" Compress snaps his spine ruler straight.

"Yeah, Dabi, she's a person. Don't dibs her like she's a bus seat," Spinner gives a scornful, sidelong glance as he speaks.

"Doesn't matter. I called dibs, that means I get to shoot my shot first,"

"That's not how this works!" Shigaraki grits through his teeth.

"Oh? And how would you know, virgin?" Dabi spits his words like venom.

More chatter breaks out as Toga grins wildly, content to observe the show these clowns were putting on for her in the circus of their own making. Life is good. 

"Hey, hey, wait a minute!" Dabi commands the room, all eyes focusing on him when he asks, "Where the fuck is Twice?"

There's a knock at your door, followed by a, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, come on in," you're taken aback somewhat, having not expected anyone to need you again so soon. 

Twice breaches the door, waving his hand and smiling visibly even through his mask. 

"Just wanted to properly introduce myself. I'm Twice, but feel free to call me Jin. That's my real name. Use whichever you want," he stands with his hands on his hips, another voice countering the previous statement with, "Screw introductions, call me Daddy! Mmff.. Sorry. The other guy isn't always polite,"

Ah, so that's why he's called Twice. Makes sense. 

"That's okay, I've heard way worse. Trust me. I'll stick with Jin when we're here, and you're welcome to call me Yumemi. Unless Daddy is still on the table," you simper with your last sentence, and he jumps in his spot. 

"W-what? Okay, I, uh--" he stammers hard, poking his index fingers together. 

"Oh, I was only joking! I'm sorry if I upset you,"

"No, it's not that, just--"

"Who's upset in here? Better not be our little doll," a smoky voice rasps out before revealing Dabi through the entryway. 

"We were just introducing ourselves properly," you say, rising from the edge of the bed. You extend your hand to Dabi, "I don't think we've said hello just yet. I'm Yumemi,"

He accepts your hand into his own, his palm sweltering, "Dabi. Pleasure's all mine. If you ever need anything at all, even if it's in the middle of the night--"

"Then she'll come to me because I'm the head of this entire thing," Shigaraki cuts him off, still covered in several hands, which you're praying are plaster. 

"We're all loyal to the tenets of Stain, though, Shigaraki. Ain't gonna bother any of us to help her out. I mean.. me, personally, I know I'd come by during any hour of the day or night. 'Cause that's what we do as a team, even if we're not the boss," Spinner pushes his way into the room, shoulder-checking Dabi and Twice to fit into the close quarters. 

"I am personally and readily available for your entertainment, Miss Saito," Compress bows as he enters the room in a cloud of smoke. 

So is he actually a magician after all? 

"Please, call me Yumemi when we're off duty," you tell him, and he captures your hand in his own, the silk of his scarlet glove soft to the touch. 

"I'm flattered to have such a privilege," he says, voice taking on a plush tone.

"Ah-hah!" Spinner points at Shigaraki, "I told you it was the royal you! She meant all of us!"

"No, it's not a privilege, really. I'm just me. You're all welcome to call me by Yumemi any time. As my dad always says, formalities are for heroes,"

The room has become a blaring fortissimo of conversations, insults saturating the air, curses you've never even heard before hurled like hidden rocks in snowballs. 

What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

byakuya fic… fem raeder.. i forgot how to spell reaeder.. nsfw.. hair pulling.. i beg..

It's on its way.... hehehehe....

I don’t have a cool title for this, but I listened to this playlist on spotify while writing this! I’m also not usually a bottom Leon stan but it just felt right. I’m not confident in my smut writing so fr give me feedback pls. Enjoy!!

(if we want more parts lmk)

((sorry for any typos i wrote this at work))

Leon x Reader x Ada btw

“Am I gonna have to catch you here again yln?” Leon says, annoyance on his boyish face.

Officer Leon Kennedy has been in the force for about six months, you and an ally being his case for about four of those months. He always seemed to be right on your toes. Finding you in robberies, car jacking, unregistered firearms, you name it, he’s caught you.

And somehow, someway, you always found your way out. Leon can never find out why, the sheriff started to get on his ass for just how many times you haven’t been charged. The saw it to be fishy, interrogating Leon more times than you’ve been in cuffs.

You sit in the interrogation room, hair pulled back blowing your baby hairs out of your face. A small smirk on your face, Leon sighs. You know damn well Ada should be here by now, although seeing the blue-eyed police officer was the highlight of your day. His stare meets you head on, face void of emotion, minus a slight pink hue on his cheeks.

“I dunno Mr. Kennedy, don’t you have fun with our little chases? Cat and mouse play is not what I thought you were into.”

His pink cheeks become warmer, a small giggle leaving your lips as he scoffs, “Keep it clean yn.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ada’s voice rings through the intercom. Your smile turns into a grin, while Leon’s face pales. He quickly turns to see the door opening.

Ada’s black body-con dress hugs her curves, her face softening making eye contact with you. Leon stands quickly, pulling his gun out and aiming directly at Ada. She smiles, placing her hands up in a surrendering motion.

“There’s no need Kennedy, we’ll just be on our way out.”

“Like hell you will!” He says, face hard.

“Oh c’mon Kennedy!” You whine, pouting. “Just let me go this once? I’ll be a good girl from here on out! I swear it!”

Leon’s face darkens with pink yet again, this guy can never catch a break from your flirting can he? Your smile turns into a smirk when he shakes his head, pointing his gun at you next.

“yn, this is the last time you’ll see her outside of prison bars. You’ve done way worse things than robbing a bank, and yet, thats why you’ll finally be put away. For good.”

Suddenly, Ada lunges at Leon. As they fight over the gun you easily make your way out of the cuffs. The bobby-pin in your pocket becoming a normal occurrence. Leon is pinned face down on the table, Ada close to his face. Your stomach warms, seeing him pinned down like this feels way more criminal than anything you’ve ever done.

“Don’t worry Leon, I’ll keep our baby out of trouble. Be a good boy and give us a head start at least, yeah?” Her voice low, making your stomach churn with lust.

“You go first babe!” You say happily, moving to hold Leon down. You press a kiss on Ada’s lips, making sure Leon sees.

His eyes burn with desire, whether or not he says it out loud it’s not hard for everyone to see. He attempts to wiggle out of your grasp.

“See you at home, behave this time. No more stolen cars.” She pushes hair out of your face.

“But-”

“No. Stolen. Cars.” Her voice is firm, eyebrow raised. You nod, pouting.

As she sways out of the room, Leon begins to struggle harder. He grunts as you push down harder. You lean close to his ear, hearing the subtle change in his breathing. Your stomach churns again. Desire fills your every thought.

“Please be good, I swear I can make it worth your while.” Leon stiffens, hitting his forehead against the table.

“My job is to catch criminals, not make deals with them.” He says through gritted teeth.

You smile softly, moving your forehead to rest against his shoulder. He stiffens more (if possible at this point.) Your hand grips his wrists harder, letting out a loud sigh.

“If you would give us one night, all of this could go away.”

You let go quickly, sprinting out of the door. Moving quickly out the door Ada left open, you hear Leon shouting something. He’s too close.

You make it out on the street, navigating quickly and smoothly through the traffic and people walking. You hear Leon shout your name, turning to face him.

His face is overcome with a glare, bright red cheeks. Your smile turning into a grin, pulling your hair down from your pony tail you bow dramatically and begin sprinting. You move through a familiar alley, hearing Leon close by. You hide in a doorway, waiting for his footsteps.

“Shit! What the fuck!” He shouts, covering his face with his hands. He reaches for his radio, but isn’t able to send out his message before you dive at him. Tackling him to the ground.

“Gotcha!” You move to pin his hands behind his back again, sitting on his back.

“See! Isn’t this fun?” You say cheerfully. His grunts become louder, more frustrated. “I’m sorry, for what I’m about to do. This is the only way I can get you to cooperate with me.”

You knock him out, his grunts and curses end abruptly. Ada appears from seemingly no where. Her face grim, she leans down and pushes hair out of Leon’s face. Staring you down with an angry look.

“What? This really is the only way we could do this and you know that.” You frown, she presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s move quickly then yn, get him into the car.” She stands as you move to lift him. “Maybe this time, he’ll listen.

Leon wakes to an unfamiliar room. His hands are cuffed to the bed frame, mouth gagged with a cloth. You sit at the edge of the bed, staring off with tears in your eyes. He grunts as he tries to pull his hands away from the bed frame. Your head snaps to him, tears falling from your eyes. You move quickly to the side of the bed, petting his hair and removing the cloth.

“I’m sorry, please don’t be upset. You wouldn’t listen to us, please just give me a moment.”

He looks down at his chest and his heart drops at the sight of no clothing, just his underwear. He whips his head to you, growling.

“What did you do-?”

“No-no-no! Wait, we didn’t touch you! We don’t have air conditioning and it’s hot so- I took them off- you were sweating a lot!” You say, panicked.

“What am I doing here? Who the fuck is we?” He says, anger on his face. He’s breathing fast, Leon looks around attempting to gather his surroundings.

“It’s just us Leon.” Ada says. You stare at her with more tears falling out of your eyes. “She just thought it would be better for you, after I specifically told her it was a bad idea-”

“I just thought.. it-” you say, more tears welling in your eyes.

“Getting me naked was not the move yn.” Leon says. He doesn’t know why, but he feels inclined to cheer you up. He meets your eyes, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before looking into your eyes again. He hates that you’ve engrained a soft spot in his heart, although he’s never going to admit to that. You sniffle, moving to sit in front of Ada, your body facing Leon.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Ada says, petting your hair. Her fingernails scratch softly at your scalp, you shiver.“Talk to him, this is what he’s here for.”

Leon watches closely and she drags a finger nail down your cheek, to your neck, then to your chest finally meeting your-

“Officer Kennedy,” You say, interrupting his thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having. “I want you, we both do.”

Silence fills the air, he tilts his head in confusion.

“Uh-Okay? So why am I tied up? I still don’t get why I’m even here. What’s going on?”

Ada’s hand stops groping your breast, you both freeze. A good minute of silence later she snorts pulling her hands to her face. You blink rapidly, shaking your head. No, no way. He has to get it right? Is he fucking with the two of you?

“Kennedy, babe,” Ada speaks, her smile apparent in her voice. “She wants you to join us.”

“I’ll never become a criminal. Especially not at this rate.” He says without missing a beat.

Ada snorts again, your mouth drops open. Leon’s cheeks become a bright red. His head tilting again, still confused. You turn around to Ada, a question in your expression. Leon takes the both of you in as you talk quietly.

You have nothing but a tank top and underwear on, Ada is still fully covered in her dress from earlier. The soft candlelight makes it hard to see the two of you very well, but he can spot makeup on the both of you. There’s faux fur on the cuffs, and a vibrator on the bed-

“Oh.” Leon says suddenly, his face darkening with even more color.

You and Ada turn quickly to face him, a blush on your cheeks as well. Leon looks embarrassed, he feels stupid. His head drops and he sighs. When he regains his composer, he meets your eyes, rolling his in annoyance.

“All you had to do was quit fucking up my city’s crime rate and ask yn.”

Your face morphs to shock, even darker can be seen even in the subtle lighting. His eyes drift to your legs, you shift uncomfortably. Ada places a hand on your shoulder and you stop. His eyes meet Ada’s gaze.

“Are you in charge Ada?” He says, his voice an octave lower. Your stomach churns.

She places her hands on your shoulders. Pushing the thin straps down, slowly. Her hands are soft, she smells like vanilla. You whine when she removes her hands just shy of touching your breasts. She kneels next to your ear and whispers something Leon can’t hear. You begin to crawl towards him, settling on his lap. His breath hitches as you lean forward, pressing your lips to his softly.

This kiss feels too intimate, soft and unsure. He pushes forward, his hands grip the cuffs. You can feel him hardening beneath you. You press harder, and the kiss quickly becomes hungry. You pull back, placing your hands on his chest to keep him still.

“If I take off the cuffs, you won’t run?” You say, your face serious. You still sound unsure, still torn up by having to know the poor kid out to get him here.

He’s taken aback by the question, his hard on should’ve been enough proof he wouldn’t. He looks deep into your eyes. Not able to sense any sort of malice.

I guess they both really do just wanna do this.

He nods, eyes on yours. He shifts, a small noise leaving his lips. You smile happily, going to remove the cuffs. He sees Ada moving quickly behind you. Her hand covers yours, staring directly in Leon’s eyes.

“Not yet, keep going.” She says, her voice firm. Your head whips to her, a pout on your lips. She stares into your eyes, shaking her head. You frown harder and remove your hands.

You both lean towards him, your lips on his while Ada begins to suck on his neck. He lets out a breath. Leon gasps when you push your tongue into his mouth, at the same time Ada uses her teeth on his neck.

Your hands move to his underwear, running a finger down his member. He shivers and you pull away. Moving quickly to remove your shirt, his underwear quickly following. You sit on his thighs, using your hand to stroke him slowly.

“Is this okay Officer?” You say, looking at him through your eyelashes.

He moans softly, nodding quickly and bucking his hips. Just how wrong is this?

He pulls at the handcuffs again. Ada stops covering his neck with hickeys, and moves to slowly remove the cuffs. Leon pulls her into a heated kiss, you moan around his cock and Ada pulls away. Leon whines but moves to grope your breasts, another moan leaving the both of you. Ada hums, moving to sit with Leon between her legs. Her dress is hiked up past her thighs, Leon shivers at her warmth.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” She says into his ear, a whine leaving your lips. Leon nods quickly. She pulls his hands away, the both of them watching you move quickly around him.

You move faster around his cock, Leon whimpers loudly. As you take him, Ada smiles kissing his neck again, she moves to push his hand into your hair. He grips hard, you move quickly up and down his cock, your head bobbing and tongue moving like clock-work.

“That’s my girl yn, just like that.” She says, both you and Leon whining.

“We practiced this,” she says, her voice level. “We used our toys and all she talked about was how much she wanted you. We loved teasing you Kennedy, it made her so wet.”

Leon gasps loudly, throwing his head back. He moans, before attempting to push you off. Your head rises with a pop.

“Please- I want- can I-”

“You wanna fuck her Kennedy?” Ada interrupts, her nails lightly scratching his stomach. He nods quickly.

“Yes- please? I’ll be so good please!” He begs, he almost sounds like he could cry. You’re breathing quickly, shifting your legs. Leon feels Ada nodding at you, and he moves to push you under him.

“C’mon baby, give him what he wants, you’re both being so good for me.”

You lay down, your head on Ada’s thighs. She runs her fingers through your hair. Leon kneels at your cunt, positioning his cock at your hole. You whine, feeling him press forward.

“I’ll go slow.” He says, eyes staring at himself entering you.

“No, she can take it. The whole thing, now.” Ada says, her voice commanding.

You whine as he presses all of himself into you. You moan and the same time, Leon’s infinitely louder. He’s breathing fast, head bowed, eyes closes. He looks at Ada before thrusting carefully, before speeding up.

“There you go,” She says, “Take him, you’re doing so good. My pretty babies.”

Your gasps, Leon’s moans, the slapping of skin fills the room. It’s music to Ada’s ears, motions for Leon to slow down. As you being to whine she removes herself to sit in the corner of the bed, vibrator in hand. She removes her clothing, you and Leon both watch her intently. His thrusts remain slow, the both of you still breathing erratically.

She places a hand on her breast, toying at her nipple. You whine, looking at her desperately. She nods at you letting out a breath. You follow her movement, moaning at your own hand on your nipple. The vibrator buzzes to life, and she places it on her clit. She nods, not looking away from Leon’s cock in your cunt.

His thrusts grow aggressive quickly, your head falling back on the bed. Ada moans, the buzzing making your whole clench. Leon gasps, his thrusts growing erratic.

“So fucking wet.” He says, voice sounding so whiny. So good.

“So good Leon.” You say, looking into his eyes. “Making me feel so good.”

You pull at your nipple harder, wrapping your legs around Leon’s waist. He moves even faster, crying out when you rub at your clit.

“‘M- I’m gonna-” His voice breaks into a whine, leaning forward to take your other nipple into his mouth. You moan loudly, your other hand moving faster, rubbing at your clit.

“Cum for me, both of you.” Ada says, sounding desperate herself.

“C’mon Leon, fill me up. I want it. Please? I’ve been so good.”

The thrusts grow sloppy, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to bruise. Leon finishes first, shooting himself into your hole. As you feel yourself being filled, you clench around his cock. Ada is the last to finish, moaning loudly, her legs twitching and her head falling back.

Ada is the first to move, cleaning the cum from your cunt. A soft smile on her lips as Leon falls next to you, pulling you into his arms. Ada lays on your other side, wrapping her arms around your waist. She kisses your shoulder, all three of your legs tangled in blankets.

Leon voice breaks the silence, “So… Does this mean you two will stop doing illegal shit?”

“I’ll think about it.” You say, giggling when he groans.

Bilbo Baggins X F! reader

“Unnoticed love?” PT1

Being the only girl in the company was undoubtedly challenging, especially as a hobbit. The dwarves had never encountered a hobbit lass before, and they initially hesitated to let Y/n join the journey, fearing she would slow them down with their preference for comfort, specific meal times, and plumper physiques compared to other races. However, Y/n's unwavering determination eventually won them over. She vividly recalled the events that led to their acceptance.

The moon bathed the Shire in its ethereal glow, casting a beautiful blue tint upon the ground. Y/n observed Bilbo cooking and preparing tea for both of them.

"I apologize for missing tea this morning. A wizard tried to recruit me for an adventure, but I declined," Bilbo said, placing a cup of tea in front of Y/n. The sweet aroma wafted towards her face. Bilbo knew exactly how she liked her tea, with a touch of cream and plenty of sugar.

"No need to worry, Bo. I witnessed the interaction on my way to the market," Y/n replied, lifting the cup and taking a small sip, her laughter escaping as she did.

"What's so amusing?" Bilbo asked, curiosity evident in his voice. "Oh, just the expression on your face when you went inside. It's not every day one sees a displeased Bilbo, unless it involves those Sackville-Baggins," Y/n chuckled, picking up one of the sweet treats Bilbo had prepared and taking a bite.

The two of them often shared meals together, almost like a tradition, which had led some of the other hobbits to speculate about their romantic involvement. However, Y/n knew deep down that her feelings were unrequited, despite her yearning for more. If only she could see the way Bilbo looked at her.

Their comfortable silence was shattered by a loud, insistent knocking on the door, startling both hobbits. "Were we expecting company?" Y/n placed her pastry down and stood up. "I don't believe so," Bilbo replied, joining her. He approached the door, hesitant about turning anyone away. What if they needed help? Taking a deep breath, he grasped the doorknob and opened the door. A dwarf stood before them, his features highlighted by the moon's glow, giving his beard a bluish undertone.

"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf introduced himself, bowing and eyeing both hobbits. The interaction was awkward as he barged in and helped himself to some food, leaving the hobbits dumbfounded. "I guess what they say about dwarves is true," Y/n huffed, observing him devour their food.

Before long, more dwarves arrived, including Balin, the brother of the first dwarf, and two brothers named Fili and Kili. The wizard himself also made an appearance, followed by a swarm of dwarves stumbling over each other as they entered.

Y/n found amusement in watching their squabbles as they struggled to regain their footing. One dwarf tipped his hat and winked at her. "Bofur," he introduced himself, extending his hand, which Y/n shyly shook. "Y/n, a pleasure," she replied in a soft, cautious voice. Bofur placed his other hand on top of hers, grinning. This gesture did not go unnoticed.

The situation escalated when the group began singing, resulting in chaos. They clanged silverware together, tossed food, and spilled wine everywhere. It was a spectacle that surely alerted the neighbors. Y/n attempted to catch plates, while Bilbo desperately tried to prevent further damage, including potential plumbing disasters.

Now in the kitchen, washing the dishes, a young dwarf named Ori approached Y/n. She smiled, looking at his bashful face, as he handed her a plate. "Thank you, Master Dwarf," she said graciously.

Since that fateful night, Y/n found herself surrounded by the dwarves. Initially, there was tension due to her outburst with Thorin, but she felt more at ease with the others. When she wasn't conversing with Bilbo, she would engage in discussions with Bofur or Balin. Bilbo observed from a distance, his stomach churning with a sense of neglect. He couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was jealousy or anger, but he despised the feeling. He would watch Y/n return from the river, her wet hair clinging to her face, her flushed cheeks after a battle, or her cheeks puffing out when she ate. Observing her lick her lips only heightened his desire.

"Are you alright, Master Burglar?" Fili nudged Bilbo, snapping him out of his reverie. "Hm? Yes, I'm quite alright," Bilbo replied, fumbling with his hands, worried that he had been caught staring at his beloved friend. "It must be challenging being away from home, let alone on a perilous mission. But at least you still have some comfort with you," Fili remarked, glancing at Y/n. "I don't know how you manage to stay focused," he continued, his gaze lingering admiringly on her curvaceous figure. Bilbo couldn't blame them; he himself was guilty of such thoughts. He watched Y/n's every move, her hair still damp and sticking to her face as she walked alongside Ori, listening to his rant about his older brothers.

Bilbo's desire for Y/n remained unspoken, buried deep within. One side of him yearned to claim her as his own, to let the world know that she belonged to him. But he knew the truth—she was not his. They weren't courting, which meant she was available for others to pursue. The other side of him simply longed to drag her away into a secluded tent and express his desires, hoping she would reciprocate.

"Bilbo," Thorin's voice echoed, breaking the momentary trance. "Tend to the horses," he commanded. Bilbo sighed, watching Y/n fulfill her duties.

The company continued their journey towards Erebor, which meant passing through Mirkwood—a prospect that displeased Thorin but left him with no alternative. It was no surprise when they were captured by the elves. While the other dwarves underwent thorough searches, the elves were uncertain where to begin searching Y/n. One male elf patted down her sleeves, but that was the extent of it. "Hey! Why are you putting your filthy hands all over us but ignoring her?" Kili exclaimed, but the elf sighed and ignored his question. "We should have hidden our weapons on her," Gloin grumbled. "Excuse me?" Y/n turned her head, astonished by the remark.

They were presented before the king himself, Thranduil. Thorin gritted his teeth, looking beyond him. "Mr. Thorin, are you alright?" Y/n glanced at her leader, witnessing a softening in his gaze when he looked at her. She appeared so vulnerable, restrained—though they all likely did—yet he remained silent.

A gentle hand slid under Y/n's chin, redirecting her attention from Thorin to Thranduil. "Sweet hobbit, what brings you so far from the Shire?" Thranduil cooed, treating her as if she were a child. Y/n remained silent, her mind plagued by numerous

questions. Would everyone be alright? Would she be safe? And, most importantly, where was Bilbo? Unbeknownst to them, he observed everything from his hidden vantage point. He had never seen her look so fragile before, kneeling before a king, beneath someone who wasn't him.

"Are you at a loss for words? No matter, we will take good care of your friends," Thranduil declared before instructing his guards to remove them, leaving the two alone. Bilbo knew he had to act swiftly, despite the heartache it caused him. He had to find a way for them to escape as soon as possible.

Thranduil circled around Y/n, resembling a predator stalking its prey. "You never answered my question. Are you here to reclaim Erebor as well?" His tone carried a taunting quality, as if he couldn't believe a hobbit would willingly leave the comfort of their own home for an adventure. "Release them; they are my friends," Y/n spoke softly. Thranduil chuckled, ceasing his circling motion and kneeling before her. "Friends? Oh, my dear, you are merely a pawn in their game. Once they have the opportunity, they will discard you as if you were nothing," he said, gazing into her eyes. "Oh, little one."

He lightly caressed her cheek, smiling. "I believe it's only fair to say you will be treated much better here. I cannot allow your delicate hands to become even more roughed up than they already are," he remarked, alluding to the skirmish with the giant spiders. "Stay with me," he urged. "No," Y/n replied firmly.

"No?" Thranduil removed his hand from her cheek, repeating her answer. "No?" Rising from his kneeling position, he stared her down. "Why not? Do you truly wish to fight alongside these... these creatures? Oh, my dear, you should learn to choose your battles wisely because...," his voice darkened, "I'm afraid you won't be spared." "I'm doing this for someone I love!" Y/n blurted out. Instead of a chuckle, Thranduil burst into laughter. "You? You love one of the dwarves?" he exclaimed. "It's not the dwarves. It's..." Y/n's voice trailed off. Thranduil sighed, instructing Tauriel to apprehend her alongside the others.

Now sitting alone in a dark and desolate cell, Y/n was left with her thoughts. Worries washed over her, refusing to dissipate. They were trapped, and Bilbo was nowhere to be found. What if he had been devoured by the spiders?

Thunder only comes when it’s raining.

Recap: Katerina Angel Kennedy or “Arrow” is a Texan patriotic girl that loves her few friends and having fun with them during their high school years. She will handle a lot of pain and difficult situations in her life but her friends will always be there for her. We don’t know but maybe some new relationships will start and some old relationships will end.

Tw: #attempt suicide #depressing thoughts #depressive character #toxic friend #heartbroken character #substance use #drug use #weed mention #weed use #reefer character

Part 1

And I screamed.

Her POV:

High school boys just give me the ick. They’re disgusting.

I only have some high school guy friends and they’re kind of different from the others. I have Benny, Don, Slater, Tony, Mike and Kevin. There are other guys in my school but I don’t really talk to them, like I say “hi how are ya” and that’s it.

Benny is my best friend since kindergarten. Our parents are friends and every where I go he is there. I used to have a weird crush on him ( I still don’t get why I liked him in 8th grade but thank god I don’t like him anymore ). But we are really close to each other. I know everything about him, and vice versa.

Don instead is kinda my big brother that I’ve never had. Being an only child, he thought I felt lonely so he always stayed with me. He is sweetly overprotective of me, and it’s obvious that he loves me. Don’t get any idea! This is all platonic and he is an enormous play boy. I don’t know how Shannon likes him. Ew.

Slater is my reefer friend. My bestie. The one who makes me feel comfortable whenever I smoke blunts or weed. Kevin too. Pickford tho is the hottest of the whole world. Like man how can I smoke weed and not confess my love to you-

Tony and Mike are my friends and they are literally the only ones I can have a decent conversation with.

Now getting to the main point. I’m a picky person. If I want to have friends, I study them before having that intimate relationship with them. Instead the girls are a different subject. I talk to all of them. Even if some of them are bitches, I still respect and adore them.

The one who I seriously can’t stand at this school is Pink. He thinks that he can fool every girl in this school or in this town. Fuck off man. Arrogant son of a bitch. (I actually respect his mother very much.)

I hate him because one day he wanted to kiss me. Bro had never talked to me before and one day he thinks he can fucking kiss me? Nahhhhh man you got the wrong girl. I fucking slapped him. And since then we had this mutual hate relationship.

Another person that I “hate” is David Wooderson. He actually isn’t in our school anymore. And he is older than all of us.

He was my first and only true love. He was my first kiss.

We were very close friends. At the beginning I used to get weed from him and from then we just clicked. He would always meet with me, stay with me, smoke with me, go to parties with me, hang out with me and on and onnnnnnn. God damn. He was the best guy I had ever met. He was my true AND ONLY LOVE. But all of a sudden he started acting weird.

Everytime I used to hang out with Benny or Slater, Wood would always get upset. He would say things like “You don’t hang out with me anymore” or would straight up act mad at me. I didn’t know if he was jealous or something. But still, that doesn’t justify his behavior. Yes we had kissed before. As a joke. And yes, I loved him. But he didn’t know this. I’ve always been jealous of the times he hung out with girls. He was a fucking player, god damn he’s still a player. And yet, I never behaved like that. So, one day after I was out with Benny at his house, I go to meet Wood at his place. I knock at his door. He opens it after a long time, and I see him with disheveled hair, no shirt on, and a naked girl behind him. And he says : “Who tf are ya, man?”

I didn’t even respond. I turned around and went away.

That day I had thought of fucking killing myself. I felt so heartbroken and I felt treated like a fucking toy. I got back home. I had cried all the road to my house. Once up to my bed room, I couldn’t fucking breath anymore. He had been treating me like shit for like forever and I had always respected him because he was my friend. I had his my feelings from everyone for three years because I didn’t want to break the relationship I had with him. And he treats me like shit?

I was panicking. I was in shock and so tired of life. I got up and started searching for weed but I didn’t have any. Or i couldn’t find any, I don’t know. But I remember going downstairs to the phone and calling Slater. He answered and I was crying and saying how I so needed weed and I couldn’t find any. He was so worried behind the phone, I could only imagine his confusion.

After not getting any solution to my problem, still crying and panicking I closed the phone.

I got to the kitchen and I was searching for something that even I didn’t know what. I get a knife from a drawer and I don’t know but I think I stabbed myself with it. And I screamed. I cried and I screamed.

I don’t know what happened after that. But I know that when I woke up, in front of me was Slater. He was fucking crying and on the phone. He was saying something but I couldn’t hear anything. I was dazy as shit.

After that day, I was a different person. Slater got closer to me. And he was always worried but I indulged to drugs and weed, getting my mind out of shit.

I started picking the friends I hung out with and the things I did. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore. And David Wooderson was nothing to me.

Only Slater knows what happened between me and Wood. All the others don’t know a thing. Or i think so. Slater might have told to Benny something about it because I noticed how Benny started ignoring Wood and talking about him.

How can a girl go through so much and still be alive? Only God knows it.

Katerina “Arrow” :

Henry Winter

He was such an alluring man to me. He was a mysterious man who loved writing and reading books, particulary in latin and ancient greek. This detail really mesmerised me, I might even say that I fell in love with him thanks to this trait of his. And why so, you might ask yourself? Well, I'm a writer myself. I write and read in latin and I have a connection to that language. So, when I found out that he had studied latin too and adored it with the same profoundness that I did, I was demolished to the ground.

But, what really tormented me forever was that he was writing a diary in ancient greek with an intriguing motive to it : he loved that language. And, by using the verb "love" I don't allude to a superficial emotion that is easy to get rid of, but, I'm talking about the fondness that one feels for a certain thing that truly is at one's heart. He practically lived within the ancient greek world.

What was even more entertaining was that I didn't know anything about ancient greek. I mean as in the language itself.

Perhaps, that's what really amused me the most. Because, I finally had found a man who was smarter and better at something than me.

Do you, my dear reader, know what a relief it is to finally find that person you had been looking for everyday of your life?

I cried the first time that we met. I was so happy. My heart was beating so fast and I was in ecstasy, or better, euphoria. And, do you want to know how he reacted to that?

He wiped my overflowing eyes and smiled at me. It was as if he knew in what a bliss I was at that moment. No. He knew, for sure, that I had been vigorously waiting for him.

Now, where is he?

Could you do child reader for demon slayer, how would the hashira’s react or comfort child reader after she wakes up from a nightmare

(also Idk if I spell hashira right also I love reading the stories you make)

ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(•̀’◡’•̀)ﾉ thank you❤ I enjoy writing these

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Tengen

You had frequent nightmares

Tengen was always the one to calm you down before tucking you back to sleep or taking you to his room to sleep with his wives

(he doesn't usually like the latter tho)

Tengen, Hina, Makio, and Suma were cuddled up in the middle of the night when Tengen woke up to the uneasy sound of your breathing.

"Must be another nightmare." He muttered to himself accidentally waking Hina.

"Is something wrong?" She asked as she started to get up but Tengen stopped her.

"No it's just the kid. I'll be back." He replied while getting up.

He made his way to your room to find you only to bump into you in the hallway.

"What are you doing out of your room?" He asked while looking down at your disheveled form. You were shivering even though you were wrapped in a blanket and your hair was going everywhich way.

"Can't sleep so I was going for a walk." You replied.

"At this hour? No you're goin' back to bed." He soothed as he patted your shoulders and turned you around to guide you back to your room.""At this hour? No you're goin' back to bed." He soothed as he patted your shoulders and turned you around to guide you back to your room.

"But I'm not tired." You panicked, not ready to go back yet. Tengen heard you heartbeat pick up as you got closer to your room, "Wait can I sleep in your room please. I don't want to be alone."

"C'mon kid." He chuckled as he led the way back to his room with you close behind.

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Rengoku

The nightmares weren't your problem it was the aftermath

you were in a panic every time and the reason always changed

1 - it felt like your blanket was suffocating you so kyojuro stopped tucking you in tight

2 - Your door being closed made you claustrophobic so he felt your door halfway open

Shinjuro was up drinking when he heard a thud from your room. He wasn't going to check on you until it kept happening. He sighed as he got up and walked down the hall to Kyojuro's room.

"HEY!" He yelled at the sleeping hashira, "Can't you hear that?"

Kyojuro listened intently until he heard another thud, "I'm sorry for disturbing you father."

He surried out of his room to yours to find that you had been bumping into the walls.

"Y/n?"

"Mr. Kyo? It's too dark in here.... I woke up and I couldn't see." Your voice wavering as you tried not to cry.

"It's ok... How about we get some water and try to go back to sleep, okay?"

You nodded, and Kyojuro lit a candle and led you to the kitchen for some water. After you got settled back in your bed, he stayed up to make you fell asleep, then he put the candle out and went to sleep himself.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sanemi

If you're looking for comfort you're not gonna get it

He not good with emotions and you cry so much that you can't even explain what's wrong

he just lets you cry it out while he has a cup of water for you so he's not dehydrated

one thing he does do is make sure you know that you're safe

Sanemi woke up to you crying. He gave you a few minutes hoping you'd calm yourself down but once he realized you weren't he gathered things you liked. A snack, water, your favorite book.

When he finally made it to your room, he opened your door, and you calmed down upon seeing him. You ran to him and clung to his legs much to his dismay.

"Cry it out kid." He awkwardly patted your head until you calmed down enough to pick you up and put you back on your bed, "Drink this." He tried to hand you the water but you refused. He sighed and tried to tuck you in bed but you pushed the blanket off.

"What do you want." He said through his teeth.

"It's too quiet."

"do you want me to read to you?"

You nodded and he opened the book he picked up and started reading from the beginning. Sanemi was more than halfway through the book before he realized you were asleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Gyomei

you rarely had nightmares and he made sure of that

You had enough problems in your life without nightmares

Gyomei made sure inscents with calming effects were burning everyday

"GYOMEI!" You called out running through the halls to find him.

"GYO YOU DIDN'T LIGHT THE LAVENDER!" You yelled running past the engage not even noticing the hashira.

"Y/n stop running you could get hurt." He scolded

You stopped and turned around with tears streaming down your face, "you didn't burn the lavender and I had a nightmare." You cried.

"I didn't? Are you sure."

"I'm positive."

"I'm sorry for the turmoil I've caused you." He stared to tear up, "but you were so brave for coming to find me. Usually you stay in your room. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you." You sniffled.

"Now how about we get you back in bed and this time I'll make sure the lavender is burning."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Obanai

you got on his last nerve

but he couldn't blame you for it he found you about to get eaten by a demon of course you're traumatized

You ate when he ate

You drank when he drank

For you to even think of laying down he was he be doing the same

Sanemi teases him for having a copycat

You can obanai shared a room with you, having your futon set up in the corner away from the door while he was in the center where you could see him.

The two of you were sleeping when you started to stir. You were tossing and turning, you even rolled out of your futon. Kaburamaru noticed and slithered over to you. He woke you the only way he knew how, he bit your hand.

"OW!" You cried while Kaburamaru slithered back to obanai. Obanai jumped up and looked toward you.

"What happend?" He yawned.

"Kabu bit me." You whined while rubbing your hand.

Obanai rubbed his face before going over to you and examining the bite.

"You were having another nightmare weren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Then lay back down. You'll be fine, you're safe hear but if something is wrong I'm never far from you. Understand?"

"Understood."

"Good.... Your hand in fine, goodnight."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Giyuu

all I can imagine is you standing at his bedroom door like "I threw up..."

He's so tired but at least taking care of you is also a way of taking care of himself

Giyuu couldn't sleep so he went to check on you before going to meditate but she he got close to your door he heard you crying.

*knock knock knock*

"Y/n can I come in?" He didn't wait for a response before he opened the door to see you under your covers crying.

"Y/n?" He said quietly, "whats wrong?"

"I had a nightmare... About a demon coming to get me." You cried. Giyuu cautiously approached you and placed a hand on your back.

"Demons can't get you in here. This place is protected and even if they did get in, Ill be here to protect you."

You sniffled and peaked out from under your blanket, "really?"

"Yes really. Ill be here until you fall asleep. Okay?" You nodded, "alright now close your eyes and take deep breath."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Shinobu

living in a hospital was not good for you but you had no choice

you saw all types of injuries and bodies

She tries to keep you away from other patients but she can't stop your wondering eyes

Shinobu was checking on you in the middle of the night to change your fluids when she found you wide away staring at the wall with wide-eyes.

"Y/n is something bothering you sweetheart?"

"That slayer that came in had tiny arms and legs... It was gross." You shivered causing the insect hashira to laugh.

"I warned you about leaving your room when there are new arrivals."

"I know but I was hungry but I wish I just starved."

"Silly girl, lay down and think about something else."

"I can't it was horrifiing."

"Well try for me please. You need sleep to regain your strength."

"Ok... " You yawned and layed down, watching as shinobu replaced your empty iv bag with a new one and falling asleep in the process.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Mitsuri

a nightmare??

oh that won't do she can't have you be scared in her care

If you to scared to sleep by yourself she'll make room in her bed for you

If you're hungry - say no more cause she'll make you a midnight snack

Or if you just want to talk she'll listen

"Ms. Kanroji." you gently shook her, "Ms. kanro-"

"Oh sweetie what are you doing up?" She was quick to pull you into a hug. It was so comforting that you almost fell asleep.

"I had a nightmare. Can I sleep in here tonight?"

"Of course you can. You don't even have to ask." She moved over as you make yourself comfortable cuddling against her.

"Your such a strong child. Youve been through so much and your still so kind. I don't think you have a mean bone in your-" Mitsuri's voice was so calming it made you drift of to sleep.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Fluttershy fem!user is so cute I just had to draw her with Jerry :3

@str4wb3rrysw3etheart LOVE LOVE LOVE UR WORK 💗💗

ngl the only thing that pmo/gives me 'writers ick' is when I'm reading a x fem!reader fic but the author uses "she/her" making me feel like it's an oc instead of reader

idk maybe it's just me who knows 🤷🏾‍♀️

𝙊𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧!𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠!𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙘𝙨

𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠/𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑙 𝑠𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑😋

────────ღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

────────ღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

I like to imagine that Steven would be so interested in Black culture, just so curious about everything that you teach him.

He loves it when you try hairstyles like goddess braids or cornrows or any style cause you'll always look pretty in his eyes :]

Ive always had this scenario where you're taking down your braids and Steven sees you cutting out the extensions and he gets so worried 😭

"(𝙣-𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚)!, 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧!?, 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙!"

You just look at him confusingly until you realize what he's talking about.

"𝙊𝙝, 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮'𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙧."

But saying that only makes him more worried.

"𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 (𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚)?, 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 :("

Steven will always be quick to stick (and defend) by you're side when someone tries to criticize you.

Tries his very best to learn about Black History Month just for you.

You always invite him over to dinner or to just hang out with your family.

You swear your family absolutely pampers him when he comes over but they keep denying it.

Weather you have braids, curls, twists, straight hair, doesn't matter. He. Will. Always. Run. His. Fingers. Trough. Your. Hair (without messing it up) He just finds it so beautiful and can't resist the urge to touch it (but he always asks you if it's ok to do so).

Thinks bonnets are very nice, he remembers the night when you two had a sleepover and saw you with your bonnet on and got curious

"(𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚), 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩?" he asked, pointing to your bonnet.

"𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨?, 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙩. 𝙄𝙩'𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙥𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥."

(Imagine giving Steven a bonnet after he asked to try one out, I think it'd be so cool 😁)

───────ღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑠/𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑒! 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑!!!!

voicemail i

miya atsumu x fem reader

wc: 650

missed call from: atsumu

the first installment of the voicemail series!! dedicating this one to the wonderful @shoyokuns​ for enabling and inspiring me for this one behehe… love u v much <3

previous / next

nsfw, fem reader, noncon, masturbation, stalking, voyeurism

Keep reading

being sakusa’s sweet, innocent leetle housewife, maybe you’re a bit younger than him too, to the point where the media points out the age diff 🥺 he loves how doting you are, always there to welcome him home with a hot meal and a clean house. all you know is taking care of omi, cleaning for omi, dressing up for omi 💘💘 but the people on the media are harsh and you’re nothing but a gold diggin whore!!! you bawl ur lil eyes out & sakusa decides to return the favor & take care of you! by stuffing u full and overstimming u until the only reason ur crying bc all this sensory overload 💘 maybe this will be the time he can finally fuck a baby in u too, u deserve a nice reward for being so good to him!

this is so cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺 omi be my hubby hours

nsfwish, fem reader, breeding

lately, he’s been coming back to sights like this.

you sniffling in bed, wrapped up in blankets as you scroll through your phone. he can’t help but sigh as he puts his gym bag down. “what is it?”

“it’s all these people, omi...” you put your phone down, tears in your eyes. “they all think i’m just a gold digging wh- whore...”

would a gold digging whore stutter the word?

“oh, baby...” he sits down next to you. “they don’t know anything about us, and you know that. don’t listen to them.”

“i know, omi...” you wipe at your eyes. “i know you must be getting tired from me crying about this all the time. it just really hurts my feelings.”

he clicks his tongue and brings you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you shouldn’t let it get to you. you’re perfect.”

“i’m--”

his lips trail down, until he’s peppering kisses on your face. you giggle a bit.

“listen, you’re the perfect wife.” he places a kiss under your jaw. “you always take care of the house, of me... always look so pretty in your dresses...”

“that you buy for me...”

“it’s just because i like how they look on you.” he trails his lips down your arm, ending with a kiss on your hand. “but i’ll be honest, i think what’s underneath the dress it a lot prettier.”

“omi...” you gasp as he pulls at the shirt you’re wearing (which is his). 

“you do so much for me...” he pulls it up to reveal your chest. “i want to give you what you want most of all... i know you must be lonely in this house when i’m gone... i think you need a baby.”

“a baby?” you smile.

“mhm...” he wipes the stray tears off your cheeks. “i think you’d make a good mom.”

“oh, omi...”

he kisses you, pushing you back on the bed so he can fit between your legs which you so easily spread for him. 

“if a baby’s what you want...” he grunts as he grinds his hips down. “then that’s what i’ll give you.”

“oh, thank you omi, thank you. i want your baby, omi.”

you always know how to make him happy.

Purgatory is Sweet Punishment

Request: Pls let Solomon and Simeon use mc like a fleshlight 😳😩👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻✨ I want to see her covered in their mess and overstimmed and begging for them

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: a short thing!! I hope you like it:)

-

Simeon watches from the doorway, his mouth pulled into a thin line as he watches you whine under Solomon, your mouth open and eyes rolled back to your head with tears shining. He hates the feeling of heat that bubbles in his stomach, golden blood that rushes through his body and settles below him.

He hadn’t meant to walk in on the both of you during your more intimate time- not that he knew what was going on. He simply thought that the two of you were studying but perhaps he should have known that the two of you were in the process of something else.

Solomon pulls out of you, his cock dripping with your sweetened nectar, as you lay under him, your hands reaching for his forward, your voice broken as you call for him to come closer. “Solo,” you whine, thrusting your hips upwards. “Don’t go, please, Solo, don’t go.” You roll your hips and clench your thighs together and Simeon finds himself enchanted by the way your cunt flutters.

“For someone who chastised us, you seem to be pretty interested,” Solomon teases, turning around and Simeon quickly averts his eyes away from you. His own cock bobs and drips with cream- either from you or him, the angel isn’t sure. “You can always join us, you know.” Solomon’s hands slip away from your grip, and he gently slides his hands down your thighs, curving against the fat and sinking his fingers into you. “They won’t mind.”

“They’re hypnotized,” Simeon hisses out, his leg jerking and causing a ripple effect where he can finally move. “It isn’t right. What if it weren’t me who walked through the door? How would you have explained yourself then? I can barely contain my rage as it is.” He finds himself at the edge of the bed, your body hot enough for him to feel without even touching you.

Solomon’s smile doesn’t falter, it only twitches upwards, his hands now gripping your thighs leaving you whining at the mere contact of it. “They consented. We’re both into this. Want to see?” Solomon taps the center of your forehead, and you take a deep breath, slowly blinking away as if a light is being shone in your face. “Are you back with us?” You nod, licking at your lips, your mouth slightly parted as you turn to face where Simeon stands.

“Oh no,” you whisper under your breath, quickly turning your gaze back to Solomon. “Why did you bring me back now?” You hissed, your hands going to cover your burning face. “Solo, please tell me this is some weird hologram that you made,” you whine beneath your palms.

“It’s the real deal,” he answers, grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your face. His hand lets go of your wrist, letting it fall to your chest where you desperately try to cover your chest. His hand cups your cheek and forces you to turn where Simeon stands. “Come on, don’t cry.”

“You’re the absolute worst,” you mutter, your eyes closing tightly, creases appearing between your brows.

“Look at that, Simeon, they're crying. Won’t you comfort them?” Solomon asks, kissing at your knuckles. “Could you really stand to see them cry?” He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s pleased, the glee in his voice so thick that it makes Simeon’s face burn.

He stands still, his muscles stiff as he decides what to do. He may be an angel, but he knows what will happen if he decides to comfort you. You are his temptation, the sin that burns under his skin and haunts his every waking moment and he knows he isn’t strong enough to refuse you- especially when you’re in such an exposed and vulnerable state.

But he can’t stay. He can’t risk losing himself just because he felt that he had to wipe away your tears. Simeon can’t risk falling- he isn’t sure he’d be able to handle the heartbreak that would come from it. Yet, how can he say no to you, how can he deny you when you’re staring up at him with wide and glassy eyes and puffed lips from too many kisses.

“Simmy,” you sniffle, “please.” He isn’t sure what you’re asking of him and he doesn’t think you are either. Your hands go to clasp to the little excess of his pants, clutching it feebly in your hand and his resolve is gone.

He lowers himself to his knees, his hand replacing where Solomon held you, and he smiles gently at you. “It’s okay, my little lamb, there’s no need to cry.” The words only seem to have the opposite effect, thick tears grazing past his fingertips. “I’m not your judge, it’s okay. Please, don’t worry yourself.” He keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face scrunches when Solomon massages his cock against your clit, his hands held tightly at your hips. Simeon’s fingers brush away strands of hair that stick to your temple. “Just look at me, okay?” His mouth snaps closed when yours opens up to release a sultry moan, that is breathed against his lips. He is left staring at your face as Solomon pushes into you, curses falling past your lips as your hand goes to hold Simeon’s hand, gripping it tightly with your nails.

Your name is called by the man who is deflowering you and you turn to him, your eyes heavy with lust as your chest bounces. “Do you want Simeon to join us? Hm? Do you want Simeon to fuck that pretty, pink cunt of yours?” You nod, wrapping your legs around Solomon’s torso, keeping him trapped there as he pumps inside of you. “Don’t say it to me, say it to him. He won’t fuck you if you’re hypnotized so he’ll have to have you ask him.”

Your face is flushed, and he can hear your heart beat erratically in your chest. Your chest rises and dips as you turn to the angel, your mouth parted and already asking him to join before you can look him in the eyes. His hand burns against your skin, touching such an innocent place but to him it’s as if he’s touching something intimate, looking into your eyes as you’re fucked by a close friend of his.

“Simeon,” you gasp between the moans, your hand moving slowly as if muddled by amber, “please, just touch me.” Solomon’s moans interrupt your words as you’re pushed deeper into the bed. Your hand grasps onto the collar of his shorts and you pull him into a messy kiss. It’s teeth and tongue, saliva slipping past the corners of each other’s mouth while your hands go to cover every inch of his body that is exposed. “Simmy, just touch me,” you croak, pulling away with a thin strong of saliva connecting the both of you.

His hand is soft as it curves over your breast, his fingers brushing along a pebbled nipple. The bud is pinched, and it’s foreign in his hands, stiff and malleable at the same time, leaving you grasping at his shirt, pleading under your breath as his name is the only thing that you can say without falling apart. Your moans echo into his mouth, leaving his chest vibrating and he’s left breathless, dying at your lips as he hand kneads into your soft breast.

A puddle of white cloth is pooled around Simeon’s ankles, his body bare and radiant as he’s led onto the mattress. Hands touch at his body, tainting his holy being with sin that covers his brown skin, trails of lips that are pressed to the nape of his neck and against his own breast. Your lips are tender, pressed against his own; honeysuckle that sticks to his tongue and leaves him with aching teeth. Eyes are on him, and for once, they aren’t judgmental, they are free and full of love and he’s left hiding at the crook of your neck and holding onto Solomon’s hands, with poison that threatens to rip apart his soul and spill onto the two that are left on the bed.

“You’re allowed to touch them, you know,” Solomon says in a smile, his hand pulling away from the angels. “They want it too.” His eyes shift from Simeon to you who’s watching him with wicked eyes. “They’re dripping just at the feeling of kissing you. Show him how much you want him.”

He watches as your hand disappears between your legs, your fingers rubbing softly against your clit, your face heated and even though flushed, you still look at him. He watches how your fingers tease around your entrance, how they’re sucked inside and the soft melody of clicking sounds as you finger yourself in front of him, because of him. He watches and waits with bated breath and when you pull your hands away, translucent gossamer strings stick between your fingers. Your wrist is held in the angel’s hands and your nectar that is oh-so-sweet is placed on his tongue, his lips wrapping around your fingers, and the two humans before him watch as their angel suckles in something so sweet as if it were his final meal.

“Simeon,” you call to him, your hand outstretched, face burning as you entice him. You want nothing more than to just hold his hand, to touch him and let him feel you. “Simeon, please,” you cry, so desperate to hold his hand.

The angel turns to Solomon who pulls you to his chest, and so desperate to have your cunt filled, you align yourself to his cock, letting it nestle around your walls. “I- Is it really okay?” Simeon asks, watching as you squirm above Solomon.

“No one is here to judge you, Simeon. You’re allowed to do whatever you want to them.” Solomon holds his hand out to Simeon, his smile tempting as he curls his fingers, beckoning for Simeon to join him. “How would you like them?” Simeon furrows his brows in confusion and Solomon chuckles lightly. “You can have them vaginally-”

“It’s wrong to have premarital sex,” Simeon quickly interjects.

“So then anally?” The angel goes stiff. “Don’t worry, they’re already prepped,” Solomon mumbles. He lowers you to the bed, his cock sliding out of you, strings of arousal connecting and making his length glisten under the light of the room. “You can slip into them with ease-'' there's eagerness in his voice that the sorcerer does not try to hide- promise.” Solomon lies on his back, having you sit above him, slowly leaning over as his mouth pulls in one of your supple breasts, nursing on you as your hands reach around and grab at your bum, stretching the fat to have your taint exposed. “Just go ahead and use them. They like it when you’re rough,” he winks, capturing your lips in a kiss.

Simeon lets his cockhead kiss your hole, and it flutters around him, and the slapping of skin is enough to let him suck in a sharp breath and push himself inside of you. You moan and it’s intertwined with a sob and a call of his name and just as quick, you tighten yourself around him. Your walls are tight, gummy and clinging to the shape of his cock that curves and rises with soft bulges.

“Oh god, Simeon,” you wail, pulling away from the kiss and tilting your head backward. “Simeon, fuck- you’re so big.” There are tears in your voice and Simeon has to bite the inside of his cheeks to ignore the forming smile.

Inside of you, semen has begun to leak, iridescent and holy, filling your hole with such that makes the angel ignore the motions that are happening. He’s sinned under no one’s eyes and yet, he’s sinned to the two people who he cares for. He can feel something evil latch onto him, his need to have you call his name, to replace the name of Father with his, your voice the only thing that he can hear, along with Solomon’s grunts and breathless laughs. He’s pulled away from you and you and him whine at the loss of contact, your hands searching for him and body missing as semen leaks out of your abused holes. His shaft is cleansed of yours and his arousal and your legs are bent to your chest, your hands scratching and marring his back and he’s drowning in you, suffocating as he breeds you, burying his face into the crook of his neck and letting his teeth rip your skin.

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing the sides and your breath is restricted. Your heartbeat rises, pulses and vibrates under his skin, your cunt tightening into something that makes it so easy for him to spill. Everything has bordered along fear and pleasure. “Sim- Simeon, Oh fuck-” your sentence is ruined by a moan, your body shaking as you mouth remains open, a thick trail of drool sliding past your bottom lip. “Simeon, Simeon,” you chant, raising your hips, your walls clinging to him and Solomon captures your lips.

He pulls away with a drunken expression, looking at Simeon who is sloppily thrusting inside of you. “Well, would you look at that- Ha,” Solomon says playfully, a hand of his squeezing at your breast. “You fucked them silly, Simeon.”

Your cunt leaks and Solomon nurses on your breast, your hand running through his hair as your sex burns, too sensitive, so close and so far. You leak in heavy strands, your body shaking as you call for both of them, whining and twisting under Simeon. Your legs ache, and you can feel him hit against your cervix, pushing so deep and so widely that you’re sure you’ll be unable to walk tomorrow.

Above you, Simeon moans, his face scrunched up as he can feel his release at the edge of him. Your cunt closes around him, clinging to his cock, and your lips capture his, tongue and teeth meet and he sobs into you, tears slipping onto your face and he spills. Your name leaves in a whimper past his lips, his hand curling above Solomon’s neck and holding it firmly, but loosely. You shake and cry, and when he pulls out of you, your body is on pins and needles as semen leaks out of you. The three of you lie in a bed and with sweat slicked bodies, you all stare up at the ceiling.

Hi, I really like your work with Sanji! Can I request a fanfic where the reader is a person who didn't get love from his parents as a child, but only money? The reader is a woman, if anything! How the reader will try to show her love to Sanji is your choice! Thanks in advance!

This was a bit hard at first but I ended up getting into it eventually. It might've turned out a little more angsty than I thought but I felt like it worked really well. If you aren't at 1053 i'm really sorry I put it in there bc it worked really well too.

Insecure Love

Sanji x Fem Reader. Angst/comfort and some fluff. Major Spoilers for episode 1053. 2740 words.

Sanji adores you, you’re perfect to him. Beautiful, amazing, talented, everything. You are the best woman he could ever wish for. Sometimes he even lays awake at night thinking of the memories the two of you have made, goofy smile on his face he’s so enamored. There is one problem though, just a teensy one, you’re not at all affectionate. You don’t stop him from being affectionate to you, but you don’t exactly reciprocate or initiate. Instead, you give him gifts, which was nice at first but he started to feel a bit conflicted about it the more it happened. He would rather get love from you rather than a material good you’d bought somewhere. What’s worse is that the gifts have stopped, it’s almost always just money now.

“Here.” You say blankly to Sanji while he’s cooking, handing him cash. He spots you and his eyes trail to the berri in your hand, a small frown on his face. “Is it not enough?” He jolts and quickly shakes his head.

“No, that isn’t it. Thank you.” He forces a smile and takes it, pain in his chest. Your boyfriend tries so hard to make you feel loved, cooking for you, complimenting you, showing physical affection, but all you do is hand him cash like payment for a service; like his love was simply something nice you pay him for. He’s tried refusing it before but you had gotten upset, putting it away with a sad expression until he agreed to take it. Now you look at him as he pockets it, telling himself he’ll use it to buy ingredients for a dish you’ll like. After he puts it in his pocket he hugs you, kissing you for a bit before pulling away. “I’m going to finish cooking soon, my love, would you like to stay here?” His eyes are expectant, hoping you’ll stay, but you shake your head.

“I’ll leave you to it, you should focus.” With that, you leave him alone in the kitchen. He looks at the ingredients he was chopping, the money you gave him weighing down his heart. Is this really so one-sided? Has he just been bothering you this entire time? Maybe he’s just a toy you can play with, a music box that sings for you when you put money inside. Those thoughts crowd his head as he cooks until he accidentally lifts a hot lid with his bare hand, burning his skin; but before he can go to treat it... it heals on its own. The cook grits his teeth, clenching his fist. What a creepy ability. He puts his head in his hands and takes deep breaths, it’s okay, he loves you, you’re still together.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks him as he sets food down in front of the girls, including you, completely spaced out.

“Oh, sorry Robin-chan.” He snaps out of it and smiles at her. “I’m doing okay.” The cook leaves to serve the rest of the crew, steps noticeably heavier than normal. The women watch this, then look to you.

“Did you two argue or something? What’d he do?” Nami asks, ready to defend you, but you shake your head.

“I don’t know, I thought he was okay earlier, I handed him money and he accepted like normal.” You’re confused, and they both look at eachother.

“Like normal..?” Nami asks again.

“Yeah, I’ve been giving my allowance to him since we started dating. I know he sometimes struggles with food budget so I like helping out.” You explain and the two girls stare at you.

“(Y/n) what have you been doing so far in your relationship with Sanji?” Robin questions you and you start to talk, explaining that you’ve been getting him gifts since you both started dating; but you ran out of ideas on what to give him so you’ve started to give him money when he makes you happy.

“Wow…That’s horrible.” The navigator states, starting to pity Sanji.

“Like a sugar baby?” Your jaw drops slightly at Robin’s comparison and you quickly shake your head.

“A sugar baby!?” You’re shocked but start to think about it. “Wait, is that what he wants?”

“Obviously not!” The navigator snaps at your obliviousness. “He basically collapses the moment a woman does something for him but you’ve just been giving him money?”

“Wouldn’t you like that though?” You point out and she frowns.

“That’s different.” She considers money an okay gift for her, though even she would get annoyed if she had a lover that would only give her money and ignore anything else. “Plus you hardly show him affection, I thought it was just your guys’ thing so I didn’t say anything but you’re clearly bumming him out.”

“I haven’t refused anything from him though, and I don’t get mad at him for flirting with other women.” The navigator sighs, mentally facepalming, this isn’t working out. You’re too oblivious and Sanji’s too much of an idiot to tell anyone something’s wrong, much less a woman he loves. Robin comes up with something.

“Tomorrow you should come to our room at noon. We’ll assist you” You tilt your head, confused, but agree.

That night, Sanji heads to bed still sad and only getting worse. He can’t sleep, he’s been having trouble doing so since that happened. ‘She was there, she must’ve seen.’ An unnatural thing, becoming the same type of monster he always despised. You must’ve fallen out of love with him, that’s it. He can’t blame you, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t digging a hole into his chest. He curls up into a ball on his bed, grasping at the sheets next to him like you’ll be there.

_________________

The next morning goes as it usually does on the Sunny. Sanji wakes up early to make breakfast for everyone and when they wake up it’s time to eat. The difference now is that Sanji seems off, tired, he doesn’t yell at Luffy or Zoro and his happy comments towards Robin and Nami aren’t enthusiastic. When he sets down your plate in front of you you look up at him, trying to scan his face if he’s sick. He awakened late so it would make sense if his Germa genes weren’t as strong, maybe he’s gotten sick? You’re worried and so is everyone else, except Luffy who doesn’t notice until after eating. He almost says something but is promptly elbowed so he keeps shut. He means well but mentioning it right now will make things worse, plus, the girls have a plan.

Afternoon finally strikes and you walk into the shared girls room, they aren’t there. 'Maybe I came too early?’ You think to yourself, checking the time to make sure it’s noon. Suddenly you hear footsteps and the door opens, revealing Robin, Nami, and your boyfriend. They push him inside and he spots you, looking shocked; but before he could ask what’s going on the door closes. He tries the doorknob but it’s locked, switched so the lock is on the outside.

“Don’t even try unlocking the door or breaking it down. You aren’t allowed out until you two communicate.” Nami states and footsteps are heard fading away. You stare at Sanji’s back, his hands on the wooden door. Does he not want to be with you alone with you this much? Usually he’d be excited to have time to spend with you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him and the cook turns quickly, not prepared for this. He isn’t ready yet! He still needs to prepare his heart for the breakup and practice his apologies for you falling out of love. “Sanji..” You reach a hand out to him and he flinches, pressing his back against the wall like he’s afraid of you. He’s scared to be touched by you, scared that when you feel his skin you’ll retract from fear and disgust from the steel-like flesh. It isn’t right, these misunderstandings cause pain and you bite your bottom lip. What are you doing wrong, what did Nami mean by saying what you were doing was horrible? You step away from him and turn around, the both of you too insecure to speak. Fortunately, being trapped in this room will force you to.

‘She can’t even bear to look at me.’ Negativity clouds his judgment, irrational thoughts filling his mind. “I’m sorry.” An apology, it sounds guilty. This must be a sign.

‘He’s breaking up with me…’ There’s too much stress, him avoiding you, being told something is wrong, and now this breakup. The dam of stone formed by the years of trauma starts to crack, tears dripping from your eyes. Sanji doesn’t see it, but he can hear your shaky breaths. It causes his eyes to widen and his worry for you overpowers his instinct to pull away.

“Mon cœur!?” Your lover walks to you and scans your teary face, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t have to call me that,” His heart breaks, you’re breaking up with him so he would have to stop calling you that. Your next words confuse him, though. “I know you don’t want to.” …He doesn’t want to? Sanji blinks a few times, why would he ever not want to call his everything what she is?

“What are you talking about? I-”

“Stop forcing yourself!” You yell and he jolts. “It must’ve been hard. Your love for women made you stay with me for so long but I know you don’t love me. Being hesitant about my gifts, not talking to me as much, and you're starting to look tired too.” You step back and put your face in your hands. “You must be staying up late thinking about how you could break up with me.” He stands there, shocked. Him… breaking up with you? The perfect woman completely out of his league? Tears flow from your eyes faster and he tries to make sense of it all, his brain so focused on his own faults that the thought of you being insecure of yours is unable to cross his mind.

“Do you mean the berri you’ve been giving me?” He manages to put together and you nod. He continues to think. “You… it wasn’t payment to you?” He doesn’t know what else to call it so he settles with that word.

“Payment?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “Is that why you’ve been staying with m-”

“No, nonono of course not. I thought..” Sanji quickly interrupts you, stopping that thought. This is different from what he thought was going to happen, but it still hurts to speak his mind when it only reminds him of what’s wrong, well what he thinks is wrong. “I thought you were giving me those things as payment because you didn’t want to pay attention to me. So I wouldn’t bother you, that my love was just a transaction.” He says the last part more quietly and your heart drops. This is familiar, you’ve felt this exact way before when you were young. Going to your parents for love and only getting money in return to shut you up and get you away. You start to shake and cry harder.

“I-I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry..!” You’re just like them, but Sanji doesn’t care; hugging you.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He’s already forgiving you and you haven’t even explained anything.

“No, it’s n-not okay.” You say while shaking your head, it’s nerve-wracking to talk about your past but you choose to. For him. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing. That I was different from my parents who would give me things instead of love, I always made sure t-to never tell you to go away or reject you but I ended up making you feel the exact same way I did!” You pull away and cover your face. “I’m horrible!”

‘The same way she did?’ He processes what you said, what’s happening. The struggle of trying so hard to be different from family only to end up like them is something he knows as well. His hand goes to his chest, pressing down and feeling almost completely dense skin instead of the regular squish of flesh; just like his brothers. “You don’t think I’m a monster…” You quickly shake your head. “Why didn’t you say so? Are you sure- I mean you never wanted to be with me!” Whenever he was cooking or if he went shopping you would just give him money and wave him off.

“I..” You think about that, then start to get embarrassed. “I didn’t want to bother you, what if I get overly clingy and get you mad?” Sanji hears this and it’s like weight has been dropped from his heart, but hearing you say this so insecurely still makes him slowly sink to the ground. “Sanji?”

“Bother me.. being clingy.” Gods, he would do anything to have you cling to him when he’s cooking or shopping. “You could never, ever, not in an eternity, ever bother me by being ‘clingy’”

“But don’t you get busy? You work so hard cooking and when you’re out shopping you’re talking with women, wouldn’t I make it awkward if I butted in?” He hangs his head in shame, the few times that you’ve agreed to go shopping he has flirted with other women; but he had assumed you didn’t care. In a way, he would do it on purpose hoping to get a reaction, even looking back at you. Anything to show a sign you loved him, that he wasn’t a toy, but all he was doing was making things worse. This lack of communication was only causing pain to you both. How could he ever make this up to you? He was already unworthy and now he had dared to cause such suffering to the love of his life. “Baby…” You crouch down and cup his face so he’s looking at you, his eyes are teary.

“I hurt you.”

“We ended up hurting each other.” You wipe his tears with your thumbs. “Do you still want to be with me? Even if I've been messing up?”

“I should be the one asking you that, treasure. My love.” Sanji hugs you, pulling you close to him so you’re on his lap. You can feel his hesitance, the fear that you’ll pull away because he’s different now, but you don’t. Instead you press closer to him, lifting your head up to look at him. You don’t really initiate kisses, so you’re nervous as you place your lips on his. He’s only shocked for a moment before he kisses back, resting his hand on the back of your neck. This is the longest series of kisses you’ve had, almost a minute before you have to pull away. “S-Sorry, I’ve gotten better at holding my breath lately.” A bit awkward it’s from something he dislikes, though.

“So I don’t have to worry if I kiss you alot?” You ask and his pupils basically turn to hearts.

“No, you don’t.” Before you two can kiss again there’s the sound of the door unlocking, making you quickly get off of Sanji’s lap as he stands up so Robin and Nami don’t see you in an awkward position. They almost think that nothing has happened but seeing the two of you clearly panicked changes their mind, making Robin smile.

“It went well, then?” Robin chuckles happily as the two of you flush. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_______________

Sanji hums as he cooks, a good mood from making up with you so amazingly. His ears perk up when he hears you come inside, not needing to look to know it’s you. “I’m almost done, my love.” He states as he expertly flips a steak. You don’t say anything, which confuses him but before he can turn around he feels your arms wrap around him and your body press against his back. His girlfriend, who hasn’t shown real affection until yesterday, is clinging to him while he cooks. Is this a dream?

“Don’t turn around, I’m still a little shy.” You say quietly and it echoes in his mind. Shy… shy… Gods, you’re too cute. His face goes red and he falls to the side, blood seeping from his nose. “Sanji!?” You manage to stop him from slamming fully onto the ground, shaking him. He’s in heaven, this is heaven.