Sam/james Fic Recs - Blog Posts

Men Ain't Shit

Smau: in which the jjk men converse with your less than perfect boyfriend Warnings: fluff, crack, a little angsty, pov from bf, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki

A Cursed Forest

Synopsis: in which you journey on with dragon!sukuna who runs into someone he knows Word Count: 2k Warnings: cursing, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

You have been walking for hours and hours since dawn break when the first light lit up the entrance of the cave. On that morn, the Cursed King had shifted into the form of a man — hulking and terrifying, a true beast — and strode forth from the cave with no instruction to guide you. Yet, you knew better than to utter a query or seek command, for his will was plainly wrought: follow him wherever he pleases. 

So you did. 

The ground was dry, cracked, and parched as if no rain had ever lay even but a kiss upon it. The sky darkened with the threat of tempest, though no breeze stirs the air, nor no sound, and no sign of life in the forest. It frightened you impossibly further, for you were so certain the trees were alive all through the night, but then, as your captor, or your saviour, you’ve yet to know, marched along, with you in tow, you knew then that it was his very presence that commanded an eerie stillness upon every branch, every leaf, and every critter that had made this place its home. 

Sore and bruised, your feet ache with every step; you dare not complain. Instead, you pray to the Heavens that your stomach will not grumble so loudly and that this destination the King has in mind arrives soon, for there is not much more you can give. 

Power coursing through his veins, he does not seem affected by this long journey through the forest. He is not lost, he does not thirst or hunger, he does not stumble or slow his pace. He is as steady as time and just as silent and merciless. 

A step for him is a leap for you, and you are struggling to keep up. When you stop by a tree, leaning against the rough bark to catch your breath, he stops, too, but he does not meet your eye. He simply stands tall, his unclothed back rippling with tension, and you rush to your feet, not wanting to irritate him with your weakness. 

He journeys on wordlessly. 

Midday passes, and you have not eaten, drank, or rested. Your mortal limitations are dragging your limbs down, forcing your mouth to dry and your vision to spin. 

“M-my Lord,” you stutter, nails pricking your palm, “if I m-may, I do not think I can go on much longer.”

Halting ahead, he turns and regards you with his full attention. He’s looking, really looking, and what he sees displeases him greatly. With a sneer, he makes a sharp turn and mists away. 

You slump to the ground, ashamed of the way your knees quiver and how blood so easily leaks from shallow cuts on your bare feet. You are just as your family says: weak, pathetic, and useless. Nothing had ever prepared you for this twist of fate, from being cast out to being offered as sacrifice for the drought and then to taking on the role of companion to the most monstrous beast that plagues the Kingdom of Eden. 

It is a mockery. 

The salt in a wound that runs deep and defines you. 

“Drink.”

Your eyes had shut without your realisation and when they open, you think perhaps you are delirious, because you are somewhere different. Still imprisoned in the Dark Forest, you are now at the river that pierces straight through. Rushing forward, you slurp down the fresh water. Life pulses in your very heart. It is cool and refreshing and everything you needed.

Dripping down your chin, the water you cup in your hands is soaked up by your dress more so than your own lips, but you cannot find the decency to feel shame in front of the King. 

Heat blasts your back, sudden and light, and you feel it tickle your skin. Behind you, your captor holds a charred bird, smoke curling out of his mouth. He throws it in your lap when you turn, staining your dress and threatening to burn your thighs. 

“Eat.”

It is as delicious as the meat he had allowed you to feast on the previous night. Strength floods your stomach, rich and filling. This is the most fortunate you’ve ever been when it comes to food; your family would throw scraps at you, watery oats and bones to gnaw on.

Warmth dancing inside, you’re much more comfortable now and ready to journey further, but you do not want to let him know just yet, lest he drags you onwards for another half-day. Slowly, you pick at the meat, pretending to savour it.

“Thank you, my Lord,” you mutter, barely above a whisper.

He grunts. Leaning against a tree himself, he watches you, lip curling slightly in something that might have been amusement or disdain. Your eyes dart downward, and you know what he sees—the dark mark upon your chest, a twisted design resembling his dragon shape, now burned into your skin. The heat beneath it intensifies under his stare, but neither of you speak of it.

Swallowing and carefully, you find the courage to ask, “To where do we venture, my Lord?”

“The nearest town to the north.”

That would be Agartha — a bustling place nestled within the heart of the northern mountains, a haven for traders and merchants. It is a place you have only heard whispers of in stories uttered of by those in your home who dared not venture beyond the village borders. It is said to welcome all manner of folk and creatures, so long as they have something of value to trade, but few have dared to travel its roads. 

It’s over a day’s travel, and the closer one gets to that part of the land, the more likely they are to encounter a cursed being, even if one avoids passage through the Dark Forest, skirting along the edge instead. 

“Why?”

His amber eyes cut through yours, and with disdain, he orders, “Finish your food, and do not question me anymore.”

“But why walk when you can fly?”

The question leaves your mouth before you could mull the thought further and the flex of his hand makes you gulp. You know not where the stupidity came from and you resent yourself for it. A moment passes, the leisurely flow of the river the only sound filling this gap between you. 

Assessing you with a cock of his head, you wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s regretting his choice of companion, or perhaps he’s considering whether you are better off as a meal. You hope it’s not the latter. Or either. You hope he likes you. 

Why, you cannot bear to ponder. 

“Because you cannot.”

His voice…

It’s softer than before. Not quite gentle — it is still very much rough, raspy, and deep in a way that rattles your bones — but there’s a vulnerability, a sincerity that leaves you reeling. The mark on your chest burns, and you grow breathless, shivers running up your spine and tingling in places you cannot linger on for too long. 

He grunts, his large hand clutching a pec. His eyes meet yours with disbelief. Something clicks inside again, that turn of a key, that slotting of a puzzle piece, which he seems to feel, too. But that can’t be. 

“You,” he hisses, and then he shakes his head. Inhaling deeply, you feel the forest rumble beneath you, shaking with the force with which he’s gripping the tree bark behind him. “If you are finished, get to your feet and walk before I drag you by your hair.”

He is already turning away, walking ahead with more force than before. You quickly wash your hands and mouth before you rush after him, afraid to be left alone as the afternoon falls. 

Hiking closer to him than before, you cannot help but eye his marked back. The black lines are pigmented and clean. They do not appear like the marks you’ve seen on other men in your village. No, they look to be a part of his body, just as any of his limbs are. 

You wonder how they feel under your fingers. 

Another hour or two passes in silence. You do not ask questions and he does not offer answers. This is a mere glimpse of how the rest of your time with him will pass, you gander. Though, it is unclear for long he will tolerate your existence. A man like him, or rather a creature like him, does not seem like the type to desire company, and yet here you are.

The temperature drops considerably. Goosebumps rise along your arms. A sharp crackle sparks in your chest.

You have unknowingly ventured somewhere odd. The branches are sparser, the grass is balding and dull, and fog is blanketing your feet. Somehow, the sky has darkened quickly, as if the clouds had thickened within seconds. You feel a chill prick your spine. 

“Stay close, rat,” the King of Curses snarls. 

When you approach him, he gives you a firm look and then jerks his chin. You press closer. In the distance, you can hear whistling —mocking and taunting. Your breaths get more and more shallow. You are being watched. 

Hesitantly, fearful you might set something off, you whisper, “Where are we?”

“We are on the brink between the edge of this forsaken forest and the land surrounding Agartha. There will be dangers around these parts. Do take care to not allow yourself to be ripped apart; you will stain my skin with your filthy blood,” he growls. 

You have only heard of tales from drunken men in taverns you’d pass by. Tales of hunched beasts ranging in height, some with the ability to tear into your flesh and kill you instantly and others with magic that lure you to your death. And though you’d like to know more about what exactly the King is sending along these parts, you are far from keen to learn first-hand. So, you follow the angry man’s lead. 

The recent turn of events has you reeling, but you are given little to no time to ponder anything. Indeed, you have no choice, just as you have never had a choice in life. 

More whistling. 

It has grown nearer. 

“Fuck,” the King growls. He flexes his arms, hands closing to fists as he marches ahead. You cannot tell how he feels, whether he is afraid, anxious, or enraged. Best not to find out. 

“If it isn’t the great King, out of his domain,” a woman’s voice sounds out.

It is melodic and enchanting. Bumps on your skin rise. There is something frightening in her tone. Too sure, too confident, too in control, you cannot breathe with the weight of her presence, though you see her not.

“And with a mortal girl, no less.”

The voice, bodiless, float around your head, lifting locks of your hair as if marveling at the tangible feel of your body. 

Squealing, you run to your companion’s side, holding his arm in spite of yourself. He glances down at your quivering form and rolls his eyes. “Spare me the theatrics, Kuchisake. We are merely passing. Answer me: Is Agartha still as it once was when I was awake?”

The voice chuckles and replies, “It has not changed. Time does not pass by in that corner of the kingdom.” 

He nods and moves to continue on his way before she speaks again, and the underlying threat in her voice stops him in his tracks. 

“I know what you seek. But Mother has made her intentions clear; you must see through the bonds that tie you down.”

A force knocks you back into a tree and away from him. The impact knocks the breath out of you but it does not hurt.

It is impossible to tell who pushed you, and you dare not dwell on it. They are having a stand-off, asserting power over each other, whilst you remain as mere collateral. That is how it has always been with these cursed beings, indeed with any who held power over you. 

“Mother has chosen to play a cruel joke, one in which I want no part. Not even she can stop me. So keep your advice to yourself, Nymph.”

She hums a melancholy tune, it is low and slow, a bastardisation of a sacred melody. She sings the wedding march.

Sukuna flicks his wrist and you’re lifted up, floating in the air until you land on your own feet next to him. Then he walks on, with you in tow, feeling red tendrils of smoke tied around your wrist, keeping you from running or being snatched away. It is as if he has collared you, his very own pet.

Still invisible to the human eye, she hums that tune all the way through the forest, even once you’ve left the border of those crooked trees, and only stops when a mountain in the distance comes into view. 

That is where you are headed. And deep inside, there is something the King of Curses wants desperately enough to stomach mockery from, who you can only guess to be, his sister. 

What lies ahead, you do not know. 

You have no choice but to trust him, and you hope that at the end of this cursed journey, you will make it out in one piece.

not a lot, just forever // oneshot part three

a/n: the last of the bday oneshots for my favorite trio <3 this one hit a little different for me and i think its because i've never written post war canon-adjacent shigs before so this was really healing <3 happy birthday tomutomu i love you foreverrr

keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki

it’s still so frustratingly embarrassing for tomura; the glances glazing over him by the passersby, being present, taking up space, all of it. despite all of the time that had passed and the constant work in therapy and counseling, nothing was harder than existing.

“i want to go inside,” tomura mutters, his gloved fingers tapping against his outstretched legs. 

it was a bit humid, and the sun was beating down on the two of you, but you knew tomura was itching for a hoodie to hide under. he desperately wanted to be invisible.

“this is nice though, isn’t it?” you sigh in content, leaning your head back and letting the sunlight engulf your face. “i don’t remember the last time i was able to sit in a park like this.”

“it feels too open.”

“does it feel too open or are you just too used to being trapped?” you squint your eyes open, slightly peering over at him next to you on the bench.

he scoffs and kicks your foot with his. you catch the end of his eye roll and take it as an opportunity to scoot in closer, letting your thighs graze together.

“sorry,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. “i know it’s hard.”

hard wasn’t the word tomura would use to describe his recovery process. he felt lost- as if he had been dumped in the middle of the desert with no sense of direction, and the worst of it all was that it was lonely.

spinner had written his book. dabi was in his family’s care. toga was off in quirk counseling. you were rapidly progressing. he was nothing.

“what do i do now?” he whispers back to you- something that you two often did for a private moment when you caught each other in the hallways of the rehabilitation center.

“we,” you emphasize, looping your arm in tomura’s, “are free to do whatever we want.”

“we…” he slowly repeats, “you know, you don’t have to stick with me anymore,” he half heartedly chuckles, “you can do whatever you want now that we’ve graduated from this bullshit.”

you think back on those late nights at the hideout when you two would be the only ones up. you'd be sitting at the bar, knees to knees, closely leaning into one another, talking in hushed tones, and exchanging light touches as you pass an energy drink back and forth.

you remember those times fondly where you could pretend to be anyone else, but there was always that looming dread in the back of your head during those days.

this won’t last forever.

i can’t get too attached.

i’ll love you for as long as i can.

here you were now, side by side as things turned out wildly different from what you expected- that the next time you’d see tomura would be in the afterlife.

you’ve spent too long shutting down any thought of the future that envisioning it now leads to a scribbled mass of grey in your mind. you couldn’t visualize it. no plan. no expectancies. nothing. you had nothing to be sure of except for the fact that you and tomura were here and alive.

where else would you want to be?

you don’t say anything except for a hm that you breathed out.

tomura’s deep exhale almost nudges you off of his shoulder. you’re half tempted to peer up at his face to gauge his expression, but the fidgety hands in his lap already gives away his feelings as the beat of silence passes.

“you remember what we talked about? all those years ago when we were hiding out at that shitty bar?”

“we talked a lot, babe,” you lightly chuckle, “you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“about what we’d do if things were different.” 

“rob a bank and leave japan with new identities?” you joke.

tomura deadpans, “dumbass, i’m talking about the last night that… you know.”

the last night you were you?

“oh that conversation,” you mutter, uncomfortably shifting in your seat, "remind me what we talked about?”

“you don’t remember?” 

truthfully, it would be impossible for you to forget when that conversation was the only thing that got you through the agonizing nights in the hospital room when you thought you had been the only survivor.

“i do, but i like hearing you talk so remind me anyway.”

tomura responds with an annoyed huff, “well if you remember, then i’m not going to repeat it. i just mentioned it because clearly neither of us know what the fuck we’re going to do with our lives after this.”

you unloop your arm from his and sit up, making him snap his attention towards you. it was the first time today that he looked you in the eyes. his cheeks were flushed from the sun- the first sign of life in his face in a long time after the limited outside time allotted from the rehab facility.

“we talked about wanting a quiet life,” you quietly say, reaching your hand up to tuck a tuft of his shaggy hair behind his ear. “not in the country though. you wanted to stay in the city for the convenience, so maybe a nice little apartment. you still want that?”

he slowly nods his head. “think so.”

from his ear, your hand trails down to his jaw and neck, running across old scars from deep scratches.

“and i specifically remember you being so mad at me when i laughed at you when you said you didn’t give a fuck about anything else as long as you could have a dog.”

“still want one,” he mutters.

“and then…” you continue slowly, resting your hand on the rough skin of his neck, “i told you that i was a cat person, but i didn’t care as long as we…”

you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. it had always been an unwritten rule to never talk about the “what ifs” and “what could’ve beens” in the hideout, but you always loved breaking the rules, and tomura loved entertaining your thoughts.

the tips of his ears began to match the blush on his cheeks. 

“keep going,” he barely whispers, keeping his eyes locked on yours- one of the small meaningful things that he had grown to do over the last few years in therapy.

“as long as we could be together. i just wanted to be with you.” you quietly say. “i still do. if that's okay."

a beat of silence passes. a life with you. a dog and maybe a cat. nothing else. no expectations. just you and whatever "normal" life you two could live.

“we should…” he trails off for a moment, thinking of the right words to say, “get married?”

you blink one. twice.

“hah?” you exclaim, recoiling back.

your hand slaps onto the back of the bench to leverage yourself through the motion.

“what?” his face deepens in color “what else are we supposed to fucking do?"

“how did we go from yeah i want to move into an apartment and raise a dog with you to marriage?” you laugh, almost unbelieving.

“i don’t know? just shut up,” he grumbles, “forget i said anything.”

tomura turns his head away from you, looking off in the other direction as he curses at himself. he doesn’t know how to tell you that yes, that’s exactly what he wants too- that existing may be hard, but he wants nothing more than to do it with you.

his face is burning from the embarrassment, but you’re still giggling to yourself and he can’t resist himself from turning back to watch. 

you two have never dared to utter “i love you” to one another before, but in that moment , he felt it on the tip of his tongue and for once, he’s not afraid to let it out.

“i love you, okay?” he says confidently, but his eyes are unable to meet yours until you force them to.

you reach up and hold his face in your hands, bringing him in closely. “i love you,” you lightly run your thumbs across the apples of his cheeks as his eyes dart back and forth between yours, “and we should get married."

DRESS PRESENTATION!

keigo takami (hawks) x reader smau, model au

an: more of a teaser than a trailer.. sorry. formatting sucks but we deal w it.

tag list: @chaoslibra @samm1e13 @seijuroww

dividers from: @saradika-graphics

Anomaly (Chapter 1) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Ever since he was rescued by All Might from All For One, Shimura Tenko's led a charmed life - except that he's a beta, in a society where alphas are privileged, omegas are prioritized, and betas are an afterthought. But when Tenko finds himself investigating a series of designation-swaps that have devastated the lives of the victims, he comes face to face with the terrible truths at the heart of society's placid, inflexible structure, and the enigmatic villain who's bent on exposing it all. The one they call Love's Executioner - otherwise known as, you. (cross-posted to Ao3)

dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Divorce epidemic: Small town in Okayama Prefecture experiences 200% increase in no-fault petitions since previous reporting period Designation dysphoria? Psychologists in Hyogo Prefecture report an increasingly prevalent set of delusions Google search: can designations change The urban legend that just won’t die: No, you can’t change your designation. Google search: my designation changed Suicide rate spikes in Kagawa Prefecture; threefold increase over the course of a month Government forms task force to investigate reported declines in suppressant effectiveness From Omega to Alpha: Chart-topping idol tells all about stunning transformation!

Google search: change designation back

Tenko’s already late when he wakes up, and the fact that he Decays his alarm clock out of spite doesn’t improve things much. He has a hell of a lot to do before work. He knew that last night, but that didn’t stop him from playing League of Legends until three am with Spinner and Twice, and now he’s paying for it. Tenko changes into street clothes, stuffs a frozen waffle into his mouth, and books it out the door.

He’s back before he can even make it to the elevator, because his medication reminder starts freaking out. He forgot his suppressants, like he does about every other day, and he probably wouldn’t take them at all if he didn’t have an alarm set. Tenko thinks it’s bullshit that he has to take suppressants. He’s a beta, not some alpha or omega who’s constantly at risk of going into heat or rut and sending the office into meltdown mode. There’s no reason for him to take this stupid pill every day.

But Tenko’s a beta, and it’s not worth it. He’ll get busted if he fails a blood test, same as anybody else. He swallows the damn thing dry, grabs another frozen waffle, and races back to the elevator.

He checks his phone on the way and sees that he forgot to log off the hero network again, which means his screen is covered in expired alert notifications — most of them yellow, a few of them orange. He swipes them away rather than reading through them. Angsting about everything that happened while he was off duty is All Might behavior, and Tenko’s number one rule for maintaining work-life balance is taking note of what All Might does and doing the exact opposite.

For off-duty behavior, at least. When Tenko’s out in the street, he’s on duty, and that means that when he hears the screech of metal on metal followed by hideous crunching noises and car alarms going off, he picks up the pace and runs a block and a half to get there first. Just like All Might would do.

It’s a car accident. Two cars, one flipped, one wrapped around a streetlight, and at least one person’s been thrown clear. Tenko drops his backpack and goes to them first, assessing the basics for their injuries. They aren’t breathing well — their chest is rising and falling lopsided — and the air around them is flooded with alpha pheromones and panic. If it was some alpha bullshit that caused this accident —

“Help,” the alpha gasps, and Tenko’s about to tell her he’s still assessing when she elaborates. “My husband — in the car — he’s pregnant —”

Great. Nobody stays calm when babies are involved, and Tenko’s still the only one on the scene. He looks around for the nearest bystander, orders them to call emergency services, and addresses the crowd that’s gathering. “Anybody here with life support training?” A couple of hands go up, and Tenko assigns roles at random. “You, grab an AED. Every store on this block should have one. You two, get over here. Get ready to start CPR.”

He waits for them to move, then races over to the car that hit the streetlight. Just like the injured alpha, the omega victim is flooding the scene, bad enough to make Tenko cough — but even as his eyes stream, his mind stays clear. He Decays the broken window on the passenger side and addresses the victim. “My name’s Shimura Tenko. I’m a pro hero and I’m here to help you.”

Most heroes are alphas with a few omegas mixed in, but All Might’s adamant that betas make the best rescue heroes, and Tenko agrees. Alphas and omegas are vulnerable to pheromone releases no matter how many suppressants they’re on, but Tenko could be surrounded by enough overlapping clouds of pheromones to choke an air purifier and still keep a clear head. Alphas make a situation volatile, omegas defer if there’s an alpha anywhere in the mix, even if it’s the wrong thing to do. For high-stakes rescue heroics, where lives are on the line, betas do it better than anybody else. It’s about all betas are good for.

If that’s all Tenko’s good for, he’ll take it. He does a visual assessment of the victim’s injuries — as much as he can with the way the car’s crumpled — then remembers there’s a second car. “I have to check the other victim. I’ll be right back,” Tenko says, and the omega seizes his arm. An alpha wouldn’t be able to resist what the omega’s putting out, but Tenko’s able to free his arm without trouble. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back. Count back from a hundred for me, okay? By threes. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

The driver of the second car is dead. They weren’t wearing a seatbelt and they’re crumpled against the windshield, but Tenko checks the brachial and radial pulses just to be sure. Is there anyone else in the car? He hears muffled crying, Decays the back passenger window, and peers in.

Fuck. There are kids. Two of them. Both buckled in, both bleeding, neither of them with crush injuries, which means it’s safe to get them out. Tenko Decays the door, too, then wedges himself into position to catch the first kid once their seatbelt’s off. The kid flops down into Tenko’s arms, and Tenko supports their head and shoulders, trying to figure out how to maneuver them out of the car.

“We’ve got him!” There’s an EMT out there, with a stretcher and another one coming closer. “Pass him out and get the other one!”

Works for Tenko. He wedges himself further into the car. The second kid is freaking out a lot worse than the other one, and Tenko realizes that this is going to be a more complicated rescue in a hurry. This kid’s quirk is active. And given that she looks to be about six years old, the likelihood that she can retract the claws sprouting from between her knuckles when she’s this scared is pretty low.

Tenko’s been a kid with a dangerous quirk. He knows the drill. “I’m going to get you out of there,” he promises. “I need you to do something for me first. Make an X with your arms like this so your claws stay pointed out. I’m going to unbuckle you —”

“I’ll fall!”

“I’ll catch you. That’s why I’m here.” Tenko knows better than to put on an All Might-style grin. “Cross your arms — perfect — and count to three for me. We’ll go on three.”

“One,” the girl sobs. “Two —”

Tenko Decays her seat, seatbelt and all, and catches her. He kicks out the window on the other side, passes her through it to another pair of EMTs, then crawls out the way he came in. By this point there’s an incident commander, somebody Tenko recognizes vaguely, and he heads her way. “What’s next?”

“We can’t get the victim out of that car,” she says. “His legs are crushed. It’ll be a miracle if he makes it to the hospital, but he won’t if they have to spend an hour cutting him out. Can you —”

“Tell them to get ready. I’ve got this.”

The victim’s got enough people comforting him that he doesn’t get mad at Tenko for leaving and not coming back, so Tenko ignores him and searches for a starting point. He needs to do this fast. Once the EMTs are in position, Tenko plants both hands on the hood and activates Decay at full strength.

He used to think his quirk was evil, that nothing good could come out of destruction, but he knows better now. There’s no such thing as a good quirk or an evil quirk. It’s about how you use it, and as Tenko uses his to free the omega victim from the totaled car and deliver him into the hands of the EMTs, he remembers all over again that his quirk is a good thing. Or at least it can be. Tenko sticks around until the ambulances have left, confirms that the cleanup crew don’t want him to get rid of the cars, and hits the road before the press can put in an appearance. He’s even later to work than he was already going to be, but he has a feeling his boss won’t mind.

There was never really a question about where Tenko would go after he graduated from UA — All Might’s agency, because nowhere else would take a beta hero and it was where he wanted to go anyway. Tenko should probably be a little less shameless about cashing in on the benefits of being raised as All Might’s ward, but he also knows All Might is pretty sensitive to his help being rejected, and after everything he’s done for Tenko, the least Tenko can do is make him happy by accepting a few perks.

Tenko’s a hero because of All Might. Tenko’s alive because of All Might. If All Might hadn’t killed All For One almost fourteen years ago, Tenko would still be under his thumb. Still thinking he was built to destroy, still carrying around Tomura as his name. Tomura. The one who brings mourning. Tenko remembers explaining his new name to All Might in the hospital after he was rescued, and he remembers how All Might’s famous smile shifted into a teeth-clenched grimace. You can pick any name you want, he said to Tenko. Except that one.

In the end, Tenko fell back on his old name, the one his parents gave him before they realized he was a beta and therefore a disappointment. What he did to his family is hard to live with, still. On his bad days, Tenko believes every word Sensei ever told him, and some part of him always will. The rest of the time, the rest of him knows better.

He’s barely set foot on the training floor in Might Tower before Twice tackles him. “Hey! Shimura! Saw you on the news —”

Tenko grimaces and breaks Twice’s grip. “I got out of there way before the cameras got there.”

“People were filming,” Spinner announces, putting Tenko in an instant headlock. All Might must have ordered them to jump him. “The HPSC reposted the video —”

“And it’s already been played ten thousand times!” Midoriya reports from somewhere far away from Tenko. His natural quirk is good for fuck all against Tenko, and All Might doesn’t want him using One For All against anybody but villains. “It’s excellent press!”

“Somebody died,” Tenko says. He winds Spinner with an elbow to the gut and twists free. “They shouldn’t put that on the news.”

“You should have become an underground hero if you wanted your exploits to stay off the news,” Tobita says. He’s keeping his distance, or else Tenko would bite the Twice clone that’s holding him and go kick his ass. “And if you’re going to do hero work in street clothes, you might want to put a little more thought into your look.”

Tenko finally shakes free of his friends and looks down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s tragic that you have to ask,” Tobita says, and sighs dramatically. “Then again, you are a beta. Maximizing attractiveness isn’t at the top of your priorities list.”

Tenko grits his teeth. “Are you sure you aren’t gay?”

“I’m waiting until I’ve found my mate. Then we’ll see.”

If Tenko talks to an alpha or an omega long enough, mating inevitably come up. It’s why he hangs out with betas when he can. Betas don’t talk about ruts, because they don’t have them, and they don’t talk about heats because they don’t have those either, and they don’t care about finding mates in general. Whatever the difference is between betas and everybody else, it strips away the desire to couple up and reproduce along with the fertility. Or at least it’s supposed to.

Tenko thought everybody felt the way he does and was just embarrassed to talk about it. It took him until a few months ago to realize that his fellow betas aren’t secretly yearning for a mate. It’s not an unspoken beta-designation thing. There’s legitimately something wrong with Tenko’s brain, something he’s never going to mention to anyone ever again. He doesn’t give a shit about having kids. It’s probably best for everybody if his quirk dies with him. But his stupid ass is out here yearning anyway, and yearning in the worst possible way. There aren’t even any female betas – betas are all male, and Tenko’s straight. Female alphas want omegas, and female omegas want alphas. Tenko and his fucking yearning are stuck together for the rest of his life.

Tenko doesn’t think about it very much. His life is good. He’s gotten really lucky, multiple times, so much that he could almost call his life charmed if he hadn’t stumbled into it after accidentally killing his family and being kidnapped and brainwashed by a monster. If yearning for a mate is the only thing that’s wrong with Tenko, Tenko has it pretty fucking easy.

All Might arrives, finally, and rescues Tenko from the middle of a pile of Twice clones, giving him a bone-cracking hug. “Well done,” he says, and lets Tenko go. “Gather ‘round, everyone. Today’s assignments are in. As you know, our agency is unique, and there are places for each and every one of your unique talents to protect and serve others!”

All Might’s agency used to just be him and his sidekick, Sir Nighteye. Sir Nighteye didn’t approve of All Might taking Tenko in — he called it letting in a stray — and All Might took it so personally that he turned letting in the strays into his agency’s entire policy. Almost everybody, from the heroes to the support staff to the PR department to the maintenance guys, is somebody who somebody else threw away. People like Twice, who went from the foster system straight to jail. People like Spinner, who grew up in a shit town that treats mutant-type quirks like trash. People like Magne, who’s trans, and Toga, whose quirk scares people, and even Tobita, whose failure to launch fast enough out of high school would have kept him from being a hero. Betas and omegas, people whose designations get them almost uniformly rejected from hero academies across the country, are the majority. The news calls All Might’s agency ‘eclectic’. The tabloids call it a freak show.

The hero community’s gotten used to it. All Might’s always fielding requests for team-ups or visits, so much so that he has to sort through them and pick just a few. Twice and Tobita get a PR visit — going to a foster home to meet the kids and talk about heroes and quirks. Spinner has a surveillance job, like usual, and Toga’s headed down to the hospital like she almost always is. Everybody else gets farmed out to other agencies, until it’s just Tenko and Midoriya and two pieces of paper in All Might’s hand.

He glances at one of them and sighs. “This was for young Todoroki, from Hawks, but unfortunately he’s, uh, indisposed.”

“Again? He was in heat two weeks ago,” Tenko says. He remembers — he got a bunch of horny texts from Touya, because Touya apparently forgets how to read when he’s in heat and thought he was sending them to Hawks or his other alpha fuckbuddy. “He’s making it up for more vacation time.”

“He’s not! Some people experience rapid cycling,” Midoriya, also an omega, pipes up. “It’s very difficult to control. He’s probably not having fun.”

“And everyone at my agency gets the same amount of vacation time,” All Might reminds Tenko. Tenko rolls his eyes. “No designation is privileged over the others here.”

No, but if Tenko took a week off of work just to fuck, everybody would have questions about that. “Which of us is getting sent to Hawks instead?”

“We aren’t able to meet that request,” All Might says. He looks at the last piece of paper. “Young Midoriya, you’ll stay here at dispatch. Tenko, you and I have been summoned to Shiroiwa, in Kagawa prefecture.”

That name sounds familiar. Tenko can’t remember why, but he’s never against an away mission. The fact that All Might hasn’t said what it is means it’s confidential, which means Tenko can lord it over Midoriya later that he got to do something cool while Midoriya minds the desk. “Sounds good.”

It’s eight hours to Kagawa by car, four and a half by Shinkansen, but in All Might’s jet, which All Might takes on long trips so he won’t bring traffic to a standstill, it’s a cool hour and a half. Tenko’s not at all interested in climbing the charts, but he has to admit that there are perks to being in the top 10. Like no crying babies on the plane, and snacks. Tenko’s frozen waffles this morning feel like a distant memory. He starts raiding the pantry.

“Tenko,” All Might says, and Tenko looks up. “I meant what I said. Your work this morning was exemplary. You should be proud.”

“I was just who was there.”

“I’m proud of you,” All Might says. “Even if you aren’t proud of yourself.”

He studies Tenko for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Let me try again. Something’s wrong. What is it?” All Might asks. Tenko shakes his head. “I’ve known you since you were eight years old, and lying’s not your strong point. What’s going on?”

There’s no way Tenko’s bringing this up to All Might. But he needs to tell All Might something, or All Might won’t let it go. Tenko picks a topic at random. “My phone yelled at me because I forgot to take my suppressants this morning. I’m sick of taking them.”

All Might’s expression shifts in sympathy. “Are you experiencing side effects? There are multiple brands —”

“No, they’re fine. I just don’t want them,” Tenko says. All Might raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a hypocrite. Alphas and omegas not taking theirs fucks them and everybody else over, but nobody suffers if I stop taking mine except some big pharma exec who won’t make money off my prescription. I shouldn’t have to blood test once a month at random like the alphas and omegas do if I’m not the problem. It’s bullshit and you know it.”

All Might sits down in the seat across from Tenko’s. “It’s true,” he says. “Alphas and omegas off their suppressants are a disaster. You’ve read your history. Society’s most significant advancements didn’t occur until after primitive suppressants were developed and distributed. Suppressants provide for a stable society.”

“Yeah, but —”

“And even knowing that,” All Might continues, “alphas and omegas don’t want to take them. Someone needs to set an example.”

“An example,” Tenko repeats. “I have to pop pills my whole life to set a good example?”

“If a rule applies to everyone, no one can claim they’re being unfairly singled out,” All Might points out. He steals a cookie out of the package Tenko just opened. “Betas frequently set a good example. You set one during your rescue today.”

“By doing something.”

“By proving it could be done,” All Might says. “Think about how an alpha or omega hero would have handled those victims and that scene.”

Tenko doesn’t need to think about it. He’s seen it. “Alpha commands,” he says. “And omegas do that weird thing where they’re, like — hitting on you —”

“Platonic seduction,” All Might says, which is one hell of a contradiction in terms. “These approaches both have something in common. What is it?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“No.” All Might eats another one of Tenko’s cookies. “Think about it. They have the same end goal as you did — a controlled scene, calm victims —”

“Except they’re doing it by force,” Tenko says. All Might nods. “You’re saying my way is better.”

“Yes,” All Might says. “Adding extra force to an already stressful scene increases the potential for chaos, particularly given the diverging reactions of each designation to those uses of force — and yet, the prevailing wisdom is still that heroes should use force in controlling a scene.”

“That’s not what you do,” Tenko mutters.

All Might smiles halfway. “I’m not an alpha.”

Everybody thinks All Might’s insistence on training beta and omega heroes is some weird fixation, because they can’t imagine All Might being anything but an alpha. But All Might isn’t an alpha. He’s a beta, just like Tenko is, so he knows it’s possible for a beta to be a hero. “Everyone assumes my ability to control scenes without force is unique to me. You proved that others can do it, too. That makes it much harder to ignore as the preferred strategy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Betas make the world go round, as usual,” Tenko says. He manages to grab one cookie before All Might eats the last one. “I still don’t want the pills.”

All Might sighs. “Are you unhappy with your designation, Tenko?”

“No,” Tenko says. He never envies alphas or omegas, except when he thinks about being alone for the rest of his life. “It’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Indeed,” All Might agrees. “But the fact that you’re a beta is why you’re on this mission and my successor is minding a desk.”

“Huh?”

“Here.” All Might picks up a folder and slides it across the table to Tenko. “I saw your expression. When I mentioned Shiroiwa, it meant something to you.”

“That’s the town where the suicide rate blew up,” Tenko says. “They think heroes should be investigating this?”

“At the moment, it’s not clear what this is,” All Might says. “No one will talk about what happened. It’s the opinion of earlier investigators that shame and distrust are keeping them quiet. They need to see people they can trust, who don’t provoke the sort of intense emotions that alphas and omegas do.”

Betas. “So we’re supposed to interview people about their dead relatives?”

“We’re supposed to interview anyone,” All Might says. “My presence will draw them out. Officially, I’m here to provide support and comfort in this trying time. It’s your job to talk to anyone who will speak and try to discern exactly what happened here. Prior to the first four suicides, which all occurred on the same day, Shiroiwa hadn’t seen a death by suicide in seven years. It’s hard to imagine there wasn’t a precipitating event.”

“Talk to people, figure out what happened,” Tenko says. “You sure you don’t want Midoriya?”

“People who are suffering need to feel listened to and understood,” All Might says. “As evidenced by how you brought so many people who’d previously felt invisible to the agency, the person in my agency best equipped to do that is you.”

Shiroiwa feels haunted. Tenko’s not superstitious, but there’s no other word for it. Something bad happened here, and he needs to figure out what it is so it can’t happen anywhere else. People are slow to talk. Tenko asks them how they’re doing, and it’s fifteen minutes of small talk before anything starts to come out. But once it does, Tenko starts to get a picture of things. Or at least where things started. Everybody who’s killed themselves attended a school festival the week before the first death.

“Did anything weird happen at the festival?” he asks, over and over again. “Or not weird. Even just something that stood out?”

Nobody has a good answer. It’s two hours into the event before someone tells Tenko what happened to some of the people who killed themselves. She’s weird about it, too. Embarrassed, even though she has her face covered. She beckons Tenko away from the others and keeps her voice low, so he has to lean in. “Their designations changed,” she says. “Alphas to betas, omegas to alphas, betas to — anything. Anybody to anything. You knew who it happened to. The scents switched on a dime.”

Designation switching is an urban legend. Or something that happens in porn. Tenko keeps nodding, anyway, and the woman keeps talking. “People who it happened to, they got shunned. Like it was contagious. Maybe it is. I don’t know.”

“Did everybody who got switched kill themselves?” Tenko asks, and she shakes her head. “Was there any pattern to who did or didn’t — or who was affected —”

“No kids,” the woman says. “It was a school festival. The place was covered with kids, but none of them got swapped. Only adults. And as far as who killed themselves and who didn’t — I don’t know. I don’t know why some of them survived it.”

“Can you point to anybody who did?” Tenko asks, and she points to herself.

Now he gets why she’s hiding. If they’re treating people with the switch like they’re contagious, then no wonder. “Come with me,” Tenko says, and she shakes her head. Her original designation and swapped designation don’t matter, but Tenko can’t tell what she is now. “If you talk to All Might, you can explain what you just told me, and we can stop this from happening again.

“Stop it? You don’t even know what started it.” The masked woman shakes her head. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” Tenko catches her arm. It doesn’t matter if she’s crazy — she’s the only lead, and if she got her designation switched, they can confirm it. Her hand closes over his and forces him to let go. “Look, if you won’t come explain, point to somebody else who got switched. Nobody’s going to believe this designation-switching thing without proof. You know that.”

She nods. Beckons Tenko closer again. “Look for Minami Mizuho, Motobuchi Tadakatsu, Shimizu Takako, and Hatagami Arisa. They were too embarrassed to talk. They sent me.”

“Thank you,” Tenko says. “If you’re right about this — what you just told me is going to help a lot of people. Even if it was hard to talk about.”

“It’s weird that it’s so hard to talk about,” the woman says. She’s about Tenko’s age, huddled inside a coat that’s too big for her. “Nobody can be quiet about designations most of the time. Except when they change.”

“Yeah,” Tenko agrees. “It’s probably scary.”

“Scary?”

“Yeah. Saying it makes it real.”

The woman thinks about it for a moment, then shakes her head. “It’s real enough for them,” she says. “Ask them.”

Tenko gets to it. Finds the people she named in the crowd, talks to all of them, and doesn’t remember until he and All Might are back on the plane that he never asked for his source’s name.

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @minniessskii @lvtuss @xeveryxstarfallx @lacrimae-lotos @issaortiz @dance-with-me-in-hell @aslutforfictionalmen @evilcookie5 @stardustdreamersisi @warxhammer @handumb @f3r4lfr0gg3r @shikiblessed @baking-ghoul @cheeseonatower @agente707 @koohiii @atspiss

The Black Sun Swallows Whole

shigaraki x reader

Consumed by grief after the death of your parents, you throw yourself into researching their killers, an organization called The Abyssal Factory lead by All For One, who claim to be for the betterment of society. When you're given the opportunity to fight back against their corruption, you jump at the chance. However, as you get more entangled with your fight against unchecked power, you find that everything is not as it seemed, especially when it comes to the heir to the company, Tomura Shigaraki.

tags: canon typical violence, enemies to lovers, found family, scifi au, alternative universe, science fiction and fantasy, slow burn, plot heavy, no quirks, reader has backstory, shigaraki being an ass

warnings: nonconsentual choking

wc: 6.8k

a/n: this fic has been my baby over the past few months, I really hope ya'll like it!! I changed a few details about canon to make things make sense for a quirkless AU, I hope it makes sense!

An absolutely huge thank you to @scary-grace for the beta read, and for listening to my ideas for this fic!!

Chapter 1

The bar was dim when you first stepped inside, lit only by the lukewarm glow of the orange lights that hung over every booth and the neon signs that crept over the surface of the round bartending station at the center of the room. You shuffled from side to side uncomfortably as a persistent stick gripped your shoes and a smell of cheap booze permeated the air, making your nostrils flare. Groups of intermingling species sat engrossed in their own conversations, yelling at each other over the sound of the music that blared over the speakers. You recognized the song—some musician from the planet Vendere, the tune slow and melodic. It was something you'd want to slow dance to in other circumstances.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you scanned the room. The bar's environment was completely out of your wheelhouse. You were used to spending your time alone. With this level of noise and a huge crowd, it was inevitable for you to feel out of place. It didn't help that you already didn't drink much to begin with, and you certainly didn't have any friends to go out with. At least today you didn't have to socialize outside of the realm of business.

Checking your commlink, you waited for a notification to pop up on the screen. Nothing. It seemed your contacts weren't here yet. In hindsight, meeting up with strangers off of obscure internet forums was probably not the smartest idea, especially considering the nature of what you were planning. There was a non-zero chance you'd get arrested tonight. Regardless, you felt prepared to protect yourself in case anything went wrong. Your blaster felt heavy against your belt, and the three knives you kept strapped to you at all times were easy enough to handle, after all.

After ordering the cheapest thing you could think of, sliding what was probably too-many credits to the bartender, you settled into a booth at the back of the bar, facing the doorway. With a shaking breath, you mentally rehearsed your story, recounting what you were going to say. What drove you. Made you tick.

You could picture Vita, one of the thousands of inhabited planets in the Musutafu galaxy and your home planet, as it was when you grew up. Tall grasses that you loved to weave into little baskets. The water that reflected the sky, vibrant and shining, rippling and distorting from the small animals that disturbed it. Insects and birds that screeched a harmonious, chaotic song late into the night.

Your love for the water enforced your love for Vita. Some of your fondest childhood memories were days spent in the marshlands surrounding your house. Days when you would splash in puddles until the mud caked your boots and flecked your face. You would come home upon sundown, your mother scolding you as she wiped your face and arms with a wet cloth before sending you on your way to the bath.

Vita was dry now. As a child, you knew water was important, but not to what extent. To a young child, water was just what you drank. It was what you played in. Bathed in. You never expected it to become the economic resource it came to be regarded as.

You were ten when your world started to end. When Vita dried.

Drying was what the Intergalactic Empire insisted happened to your planet. A strange occurrence due to the citizens' over-consumption of water. But you knew the reality of its death. What was touted as a scientific breakthrough, capable of changing and revolutionizing the infrastructure of space travel, actually became your planet's downfall. Water was discovered to hold properties to allow for clean engines that didn't require expensive wiring or electrical systems. It was supposed to be better for the planet— for the galaxy. Until someone naturally got greedy.

This greed is what killed your planet.

With so much water ripe for the taking, it was only natural that someone would try to take advantage of the abundance of natural resources.

Your parents, as politicians, advocated for the protection of your planet's natural resources and sustainability efforts. They had taught you to recognize right from wrong and to stand up for what you believe in, despite what others may think.

This same philosophy is what had gotten them killed.

The night they were killed left a stain on your soul that no amount of scrubbing could remove. You were playing in the marsh again, watching the tadpoles swim around your boots and hands in the water. Their screams from the house startled you, the sound echoing across the still waters and sent any animal careening. Your little ten-year-old brain didn't know if you should run or hide with the tadpoles. Your rain boots seemed to sink further into the mud as you stood, blood rushing in your ears as you began to run towards your house, each step loudly splashing as the water speckled you from the waist down. The slight breeze seemed like a vigorous wind as you paused, approaching the house. Parked on the dry patch of land where your parent's ship usually parked was a strange starship, black and aerodynamic, you had never seen before.

Your parents would have told you if they were having guests. Why didn't they tell you?

The sound of two male voices echoed off the water, booming against the quiet sound of insects buzzing in the marsh.

"Wasn't there a brat we were supposed to get too?" An icy chill ran down your spine. Did they mean you? Your shorts became soaked as you scrambled to crouch down, hiding behind the large patches of tall grass. The sides of the grass poked into you painfully as you stilled, willing your body not to move a muscle. You held your breath and hoped your rabbit-quick heartbeat wasn't loud enough to startle the wolves.

They were too far away for you to pick out any discernible features. "There was," he said, bored. "But what does it matter, we can always come back."

The other man began to protest, "But the boss said—"

"I don't care what Shigaraki said, it's one kid. We aren't getting paid enough to care." Recognition sparked in your head. You heard your parents discussing Shigaraki at the dinner table. As the CEO of The Abyssal Factory, a company focused on "clean, water-dependent engines for space travel," he was their biggest opponent when it came to the protection of Vita's water.

Their voices drifted further away. Still crouched, you stood on your toes to peer over the grass. They now stood by their starships. You prayed they were leaving.

"I guess," the taller one muttered, so quiet you could barely make out the words, before climbing into the ship. "We'll come back if he finds out."

Still crouched, knees aching, you started at the ship as it quickly shrank to a dot in the sky, disappearing as it took off. Red-hot tears wet your waterline as your boot, stuck in the mud, pulled off your foot. Panic gripped you.

Damn it. You flinched. You weren't supposed to say damn it. Your socked foot was sopping wet and cold as you raced towards the house, fumbling and crawling up the stairs, leaving thick splats of mud that exploded into stars on each step.

You stood in eerie silence as the back door was left open, white curtains swaying in the wind, the bottom edges tinged with red droplets. Hot tears rose to wet your waterline. The air smelled metallic as you slowly trudged through the house, the water dripping off your clothes and onto the floor, leaving a brown trail of droplets behind you.

The memory of your dead parents stayed etched into your brain in the same way their blood was now etched into every nook and cranny of your living room floor. To this day, you wished you could forget it. The awkward angles your parents laid at. The way their blood pooled, mirroring the same puddles you used to love.

Everything was blurry from that point. You remember crawling towards the commlink to call your aunt, screaming and begging for help until your throat went hoarse. For someone to bring your mom and dad back. For someone to towel you off the way your mom used to. The flashing lights and questions from the Interspace police were locked away in the recesses of your mind, never to be seen again.

A ping on your commlink snapped you out of your thoughts. Wrestling to pull it out of your jacket, you glanced at the notification.

"We're here." Your contact. Finally.

You spotted them by the door— two men casually dressed, covertly glancing around the room for you. You raised your arm in a wave, "here."

You got a better look at them as they approached, sliding across from you in the booth. "I'm guessing you're the one I've been speaking to?" The scruffy one with long, black hair asked, neutral in tone. "Yeah," pulling out your wallet, you tossed your ID on the table. That was the condition you had both agreed upon to ensure you both were who you said you were. Real IDs. No funny business.

The other man, blonde, quickly snatched up your ID, scrutinizing it through his yellow, triangular glasses, mustache twitching. He must have liked it, because he thrust it back at you along with his own. "This better not be a fake."

"It's not." Taking both, you took a minute to look at his. Hizashi Yamada. The ID was old, but he matched the photo, and there weren't any obvious imperfections that would indicate its illegitimacy.

The air in your little booth was as tense and quiet as you switched IDs with the other man, the single hanging light from above elongating your faces. Shota Aizawa. Just like Yamada's, there weren't any issues you could observe from the naked eye. The both of you nodded, satisfied. Your knee bounced from beneath the table. Finally, something was happening.

Your desire to avenge your parents had consumed you, eventually driving you to encrypted online forums to discuss your target: Shigaraki, first name unknown, simply nicknamed All For One on the online forums. You had seen their large, obnoxiously branded ships drain entire planets of everything they had, leaving its citizens with no choice but to seek asylum elsewhere or join them for a "gainful employment opportunity." It was corrupt, unjust, and completely unchecked.

Of course, other people noticed. Others called for the Interspace government take action against them. But The Abyssal Factory's lobbying efforts proved fruitful, causing the forums to turn to turn to other methods of control. They held whispers of assassination, calls for retaliation. You wanted to be part of that. This lead you to where you were today.

The plan was simple; Exchange backstories, see if you trusted each other, and then exchange resources if you did. You had information they needed, they had the manpower you so desperately craved.

Luckily, the bar was loud enough to mask your conversation. "So. How'd All For One fuck your planet?"

If looks could kill, then you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Yamada's. "We're from Focis." Those three words made your stomach drop. Focis was one of the first planets completely drained by The Abyssal Factory. You heard stories of what had happened. Fires that engulfed whole cities, buildings leveled, victims forever trapped among the rubble. It was said that the screams of its citizens could still be heard in the wind.

There were very few survivors, most people unable to escape to the starships in time. Those who managed to escape lived with both the mental and physical scars, a constant smoke in their lungs that wouldn't leave no matter how much clean air they breathed.

It was regarded as one of the largest instances of mass death caused by The Abyssal Factory, earning Shigaraki the title of All For One. All the world's resources, all this death caused by one rich bastard seeking a profit. It infuriated you. You were further enraged by the fact that All For One completely got away with it too, only facing a mild slap on the wrist by the Intergalactic Empire, probably due to his "generous donations." The corruption seemed to never cease.

"Look, how do I know you're telling the truth?" You scrutinized their expressions, looking for a twitch or strange movement. Anything to indicate they were lying. "I need some proof that you're not feeding me bullshit."

Aizawa pulled his hair behind his ear, revealing the dark eye patch covering his right eye. "This is from when my apartment crumbled on top of me. And this," he leaned down, lifting his right pant leg, his newly-uncovered prosthetic shining against the neon lights of the bar. "is from when I was crawling out of the rubble."

"Okay," you nodded, turning towards Yamada. Unceremoniously, he unbuttoned his shirt. A large, blotchy red burn scar etched over the expanses of his chest, disappearing under the sleeves and traveling around his back. His deft fingers began rebuttoning his shirt. "Our friends died in that fire," he sneered, tone soured by grief. "I need to kill those bastards that did it." His eyes were intense when he looked up at you. "What about you?"

You retold your story in the way you had always recited it. The screams. The men who took everything from you. The bloodstains embedded so deep in the walls and rug that no cleaner could remove it. The place you vowed you'd never return to.

Aizawa looked solemn. "So we all lost—"

He was quickly interrupted by the sound of an argument up front. Security was currently arguing with a cop from the intergalactic police force.

"You need a warrant—"

The cop, hulking with muscles that bulged under his uniform, towered over the security guard. "I'm only going to say this once. Here's my warrant," he gestured to his blaster, large and proud on his hip. "Now you're gonna let me in, and you won't have any issues." You eyed the security guard in disgust as he deflated. Some security he was.

"Alright, listen up!" The cop yelled as the music stopped, leaving nothing but the sound of awkward shuffling. "ID check, everyone stay where you are." Anxiety churned in your stomach as some people around you groaned in verbal protest. ID checks were routine at this point to check for anyone wanted for crimes against the Empire, and by extension, the companies that funded them.

You tried to stay cool, quickly switching out your real ID for your fake one under the table, a bored expression on your face as the cop came to your table, his one mechanical eye scanning your ID. You tried not to smile when you noticed Yamada and Aizawa's were different colors than before and touting different names. You felt a drop of sweat run down your back as he continuing examining it.

Shouldn't he be done already? It was a damn good fake.

Suddenly, the loud noise of another man screaming pulled your attention to the front of the bar, where a man was currently running towards the exit. Your ID was thrown down to you as the cop got ready to charge and shoot. "Stop!"

The bar was thrown into chaos as someone started firing. Adrenaline and fear coursed through you as a large— you didn't know what it was, but it was hulking with muscle in a way that didn't seem possible, beady eyes poking through its exposed brain above its massive maw —barreled through the door, sending pieces of metal shrapnel flying.

Eyes wide, your hands reached for your own blaster. "What the fuck is that."

You nearly fell over when you felt a hand clench down on your jacket, pulling you into a crouch. "We need to leave." Aizawa's hand was firm on your back, holding you in place. "Exit is that way, we'll tell you everything later."

The three of you scrambled to leave with everyone else through the back door, holding your breath until you were outside, making your way to the only two electric starships on the lot, yours and theirs.

"Ah, that was scary!" Yamada groaned, suddenly much more animated and less serious than he was inside the bar.

Crossing your arms, you tried not to shudder. "What was that?"

"They're called nomu," Aizawa gave you a strange look, putting away his commlink as yours buzzed. "We can discuss it back at our base. I just sent you the coordinates." Your ears perked up at the mention of their base. "What's at the base?"

"UA flight school," Yamada grinned. "We're teaching students to fly fighter jets."

A sense of giddiness filled your lungs. Fucking finally, something was happening. "I'll be there tomorrow morning."

Your room at your aunt's place was small, but livable. After the death of your parents, she had taken you in with open arms, so it's not like you could complain much. You took a look around your room, wondering if you'd ever set foot in there again. Binders of evidence lined the shelves, spilling out onto the walls with photos and articles you had printed on your aunt's ancient printer. She had always teased you for being so old-fashioned, so tedious with your physical media. But anything digital could be so easily deleted, and you were terrified that your life's work would go to naught.

Staring out the window, you sat on the bed, looking over the bustling city streets, slightly quieted by the late hour. You remembered when you first moved in with your aunt, who lived only a few standard hours away through warp speed on the planet Civitas, you found the city overwhelming. It was bustling, alive and pulsating with the energy of tens of millions of people around every corner. It was so different from Vita—with it's smaller, less populated cities and small towns. As a teenager, you realized the thing you initially despised was your only protection—more people meant more eyes on All For One. Still, even ten years later, it didn't feel like home.

Packing what meager personal belongings you had, your head cocked as you heard a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Your aunt's smiling face greeted you as she walked in, sitting herself in your desk chair. "So, what time are you leaving?"

"I dunno. Early."

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You know—"

You already knew what she was going to say, because she'd said it many times before. "Are you going to try to talk me out of going again?"

Her tone was soft, quiet in a way that came from a deep sense of melancholy. "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to." Your arms tightened around your bag as she glanced around your room, eyes lingering on your bookshelf before looking at you again. "You have your mind made up and I'm happy for you, I just—" she wrung her hands. She looked tired these days. "I don't want you to forget about your living family in pursuit of your dead one." A wry smile fell over her face as she stood. "Pursue what you think is right, but don't let it consume you."

You stood to hug her, her arms warm around your back.

"I won't, I promise."

But something in the back of your mind screamed that those words were a lie.

When you left in the morning, eyes still blurred from your early rise, you took one last look around the room. The desk that barely fit your computer. Your bed, dressed in plain bed sheets, you outgrew a few years back. As you closed the door behind you, you wondered if you ever really fit that room anyways.

After landing in the clearing, you double-checked your commlink to make sure you were at the correct coordinates. UA was located on the planet Fuga, only a half-days away at warp-speed.

Landing your ship was a struggle, to say the least.

You were expecting some form of concrete structure, large and imposing, with a long landing strip. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite— aside from the small, grassy clearing where you landed, the surrounding area was lush with green vegetation and tall trees with vines that draped along the horizon.

Exiting the ship with your bag in tow, you hoped this wasn't a trap. Suddenly you were being called to, Aizawa's hand raised in a wave as he approached.

"Sorry, I should've been here to greet you."

"It's fine." You shifted the weight of your bag on your shoulder, heavy with the weight of the binders you brought.

"Let me show you around." The top of the compound blended in perfectly with the rolling terrain that surrounded it, except for the large, glass panels along the front. The metal frames that accentuated each pain were covered in rust, giving the impression that the place was abandoned. This impression didn't last long as you entered.

Aizawa led you up a set of stairs around the compound as you looked around in astonishment. There were all kinds of electric ships on the main factory floor, various models and designs you'd only seen on ancient, yellowed pages. It was an eclectic mix of ships in various bronze and copper tones, shapes altered to suit its pilot's flying style. Several of Aizawa's students were working on the ships, some huddled in lively conversation. "This used to be an electrical equipment manufacturing plant, he explained. "We found it abandoned and thought the trees would do a good job of hiding us from any satellites."

You thought back to the trees outside, the way they grew in close, tight-knit patches, with branches like the tendrils of a deep-sea creature, crossing and wrapping around one another and framing bits of the sky in oddly-shaped frames.

"Aren't the trees a little too thick to train fighter pilots?" The grin that stretched Aizawa's face was scary. You were thankful you weren't one of his students. "Oh, they can fly in it just fine. You'll see."

"We'll have a meeting in about two hours to discuss the information you've brought, those nomu we saw earlier, and our future plans. There's a room for you upstairs and down the hall to the right, I think some of the girls made a nameplate for you." he rolled his eyes. "They were excited."

You smiled weakly. You hoped they weren't too entangled in this. That their youth made them eligible for a normal life. "Thank you." Aizawa nodded before turning, leaving you to your own devices.

Aizawa was right. Hung on the door was a small wooden sign, your name painted in a fancy-looking script and colored plastic gems misaligned on the outer edges. The size of your room here was not dissimilar from the size your room back home. While the walls in your aunt's house were covered, these walls were distinctly bare, highlighting the rough texture of the concrete. Your bed was clean and neat as you placed your bag down, a thick blanket near the end the only pop of color. You unpacked your bag in record time with the exception of your binder, deciding it best to keep it on you for the meeting.

Exiting the room and heading towards the maintenance bay, you found yourself still with awe halfway down the stairs. From this angle you could see everything—it seemed Aizawa ran a tight ship, no pun intended. Like yours, all the starships were electric and in near perfect condition despite their age. Electric starships were rare to see, especially after The Abyssal Factory's lobbying efforts.

You hurried the rest of the way down the stairs to take a look. As you reached up to read the model number on one, a voice interrupted you, calling out your name. "You flew in on an GA-FFE37B! All Might himself designed that one, and they hardly manufacture parts for them anymore!" One of Aizawa's students, freckled with green hair that tousled in every direction, padded up to you, furiously scribbling in his notebook. You blinked when you spotted a sketch of your ship already in there. "I'm Izuku Midoriya, do you mind showing me your ship later? There are just so many things I want to see up close!" The words flew so quickly out of his mouth it was like they were traveling at warp speed.

"Sure." Who were you to stop the pursuit of knowledge. You spent the rest of the time before the meeting explaining the mechanisms to the ship and discussing All Might's designs with Midoriya.

The makeshift meeting room was barely large enough to accommodate the table, long and large enough to fit all the UA teachers, a few select students, and yourself. The air in the meeting room was much more serious than in the maintenance bay, lacking the youthful joy that the students seemed to exude. In your eagerness you got there a tad early, leaving plenty of open seats for the time being. You sat down away from anyone else, waiting for the room to fill up. Eventually more people trickled in, and a woman with long, black hair settled into the chair next to you. She barely had time to introduce herself as Nemuri before a hush fell over the room, all eyes falling to a man closely resembling a rodent from your home planet as he scampered in, sitting at the head of the table.

Introducing himself as Nezu, he started the meeting. "As you all know, Aizawa and Yamada made contact with someone who may have information on possible weapons sources for the empire, and by extension The Abyssal Factory." He gestured towards you. "I heard you have some intel?"

Clearing your throat, you stood on shaking legs and introduced yourself. "I've tracked down a weapons supplier for the empire." Pulling out your binders, you passed them to Nemuri. "Everyone can take a look. Kai Chisaki was seen meeting with All For One around four standard weeks ago at a restaurant on Vendere, but it was unknown if any business deals were discussed." Vandere, a merchant hub, was a bustling planet with a city that seemed to stretch along every surface. "He runs Shie Hassaikai, a weapons manufacturing plant."

"What possible reason do they have to meet?" Namuri asked.

"That's what I was wondering as well. I did some digging, and there are records of a transaction from a few days ago, but they're not for weapons. It wasn't until Aizawa mentioned them that I connected the dots."

You don't know how you missed it. The Shie had no ties to The Abyssal Factory on paper until a few days ago, so you didn't have time to do a full deep dive into their business dealings or their paperwork. You also didn't pay much attention to the regular news outside of where The Abyssal Factory was concerned. Intergalactic news proved to rapid to, anyway.

Nomu were the empire's new line of defense, unveiled only a few standard days ago. There was a scarce amount of information on them—no one knew what they were or how they were created.

Pointing at the next page in your binder, you gestured for the next page to be flipped. "Those are the numbers for a recent business deal between Shie Hassaikai and The Abyssal Factory. And look at what's being discussed." At the top of the spreadsheet, printed in small letters read the text: Nomu, 300 count.

"I'd say our next plan of action is to raid the Shie Hassaikai facility. Perhaps the key to understanding the nomu lies there," Sekijiro mused.

Aizawa nodded. "That's right. Weapons are our top priority at the moment, besides excess manpower."

You grinned. Everyone seemed to be in agreement. "I can get us the building's blueprints if you give me a computer and enough time. From there we can plan an attack strategy and hopefully find something out about the Nomu."

With this plan in mind, you set out to hack into Shie Hassaikai's database and find the facility blueprints. You spent the next few days hunched over your new computer, occasionally interrupted by Aizawa or one of his students who'd been sent to remind you to eat.

While it took a bit longer due to a different setup, you managed to locate the files for the blueprints, security schedules, and locations of any security alarms.

The plan was simple—a small group would fly down to a field north of the Shie Hassaikai main warehouse, located on Repono, a small, near-empty planet owned by the Shie Hassaikai to use for their manufacturing. Everyone would then split into groups A, B, and C. Groups A and B would infiltrate the building through the entrance on the north side of the building while group C stayed back, keeping a watchful eye on the outside of the compound.

A larger Group A, consisting of Aizawa, Snipe, Kirishima, Tamaki, and a few more teachers would take the linear path down to the packaging area where weapons that were being sent to the empire were stored before delivery. They would then take as many weapons as they could.

Group B, consisting of you, Izuku, and Mirio would veer left to the security room and disable all cameras and sensors that could possibly alert anyone to your presence. You when then all quickly head back to reconvene with group A to assist with the loud out.

Groups A and B would then run back to the exit, where Group C, Yamada, Ochako, Tsuyu, and Nejire, would be waiting to assist in the load out process before steering the ships back to UA.

The sky was pitch black when you touched down in a field far enough to be away from view. The light from the stars was the only illuminator besides the bright lights that surrounded the Shie Hassaiki headquarters. There wasn't anything in the surrounding vicinity other than the compound. It stood absolutely daunting, the dark, windowless structure a harsh change from the rolling hills and slow-moving rivers that surrounded it. Silence filled the air, occasional low whistles of the wind cooling your face and tousling your hair.

Snipe lead the group down the side of the building, dirt and grass quietly crunching beneath your uniform boots. The doors were lower than the hill you were currently positioned on, giving you a perfect view of the headquarters.

Two armed, masked guards stood still outside the entrance, poised on either side of the doors. You waited as Snipe took out his long-ranged blaster, crouching as he lined up and took the shot.

One. He was quick despite the distance and wind. Two.

Both security guards slumped to the ground with a sickening thwap, one after the other.

There was no time to wait—everyone rushed down the side of the hill towards the doors with you, Izuku, and Mirio at the front, since disabling the alarms was the of the upmost importance.

Rifling through the dead security guard's jacket, you tried not to cringe at how warm the body still was. Eventually you found it—his ID card, clipped into the inside of his uniform. You snatched it as quickly as you could, ushering everyone inside after a quick swipe.

From then you enacted the plan, splitting off into two groups, the sound of group A advancing to the weapons room fading as they advanced. Following the map of long, winding halls you practically had etched into your brain, you continued down the hallway, making it to the security room.

You unlocked the doors with a quick swipe of your stolen ID, the doors sliding back to reveal the back of a security guard's head. He spoke on his commlink in a frantic, irritated tone, too enraptured in his conversation to notice the door.

Shit. He was most certainly calling for backup. A quick tug on the trigger of your blaster and he slumped over the console. You held your breath as a rush of emotions swept through you. Regret, then shock, then guilt. Your throat felt acidic as you swallowed the bile that rose. There was no time for emotions; you had to keep moving.

After pulling away his rapidly-cooling corpse, you stared at the various buttons, differing in size and color.

You took a deep, rattling breath.

It's okay. You could do this.

Making quick work of disabling the cameras, Izuku helped you unlock the doors to the weapons storage, the two of you working in sync as Mirio stood guard at the door. After triple checking that the cameras and sensors were disabled, you ushered Mirio and Izuku down the hall to reconvene with group A, you on their tail.

You were halfway to group A when you felt the wind knock completely out of your lungs. The building spun as someone grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, slamming you against the wall. Metallic ichor felt hot on your tongue as the back of your head kit the hard surface, recoiling from the initial impact.

The tip of a baton, crimson and pulsating with energy, crackled over your stomach as your assailant held it against your skin, their hand wrapped tight around your throat. Your head felt clouded from the lack of oxygen and fear that coursed through your veins.

"Where is Kai Chisaki?" You got a good look at him then, his face inches away from yours as he sneered, crimson eyes glaring at you with utter contempt. His pale skin was engulfed in an all-black ensemble under a blood red cape, various straps crossing the length of his body.

Whipping your head around, you heard Izuku cry out in anger. You couldn't quite hear the exchange due to the distance—too far away to help. He was just down the hall a second before.

You yelled for him with the hope that he'd hear you. "Izuku, Mirio, run! Get to the others!"

One pair of footsteps audibly retreated, before stopping. "Izuku, come on!" Your heart fell from your throat and back to your chest as you heard both boys finally retreat. However, it quickly rose again, the weight of a hand around your neck heavy as you strained to remove it.

With both hands, you tugged his wrist from around your larnyx, pulling him to the side and towards the wall. "Why would I know where he is?" With shaky hands, you reached for your blaster.

Spinning around, he looked down at what you were wearing, eyes widening when he noticed your lack of uniform. Not a security guard. Before you could place the finger on the trigger, he twisted your arm to the side, forcing your wrist to go limp.

You hissed in pain, dropping your blaster with an echoing clang.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrowed, body pressed into yours as he pinned you to the wall. Squirming, you tried to call upon any of the self-defense videos you studied. Your chest felt tight with panic as you realized you couldn't move.

"Who are you?"

The shrill sound of the alarms made you both startle.

The visage of a man, clad all in black, with dark purple burns covering most of his skin appeared in your peripheral. "Shigaraki, we need to go get the weapons before—"

"In a second, Dabi."

You interrupting unabashedly. "You're a Shigaraki?"

He seemed appalled at the question, as if there was nothing that could be gained from this clarification but goodwill. "What's your problem?"

Disgust churned in your stomach, face warm. "Your shitstain of a 'company' is my problem—do you really not know how many innocent people you've killed?"

Everyone in the room tensed, silent other than the ear-splitting screech of the alarm. The man to your left, tall and green with lizard-like features, broke the tension with a grin, a giddiness in his stance that you couldn't identify the reason for.

Shigaraki's voice came out a low whisper, a murmur laced with outrage. "What do you mean, innocent?"

His off-kilter stance allowed you to push him to the side, freeing you from his grasp. More of Shigaraki's team, a blonde alien girl and a man completely covered in spandex emerged down the other end, blocking the exit which you originally came from. There were too many of them for you to pick up your blaster and shoot. They'd surround you too quickly.

Your feet pounded against the floor as you ran in the other direction, the shrillness of the alarms ringing in your ears as you hoped you'd stumble across Mirio or Izuku on the way to the weapons room where group A was.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard Mirio call out your name. Down a side hallway, Mirio and Izuku raced towards you. Relief, then confusion filled you as you noticed what, or who, Izuku was carrying—a little girl with a red horn sticking straight through her long, white hair, covered in bandages.

"She was running down the halls," Izuku held her tight as she gripped his sleeves. Poor thing was probably terrified.

"We can bring her once we find the others." The three of you raced down the hall to the weapons room. You stopped as everyone from group A raced out of the room, meeting you halfway, several carts of weapons rolling behind them.

Snipe pointed back to the way you were coming, "We got everything we could grab. Lets turn back now."

Spinning on your heel, you sprinted towards the exit, stopping as Shigaraki's gang ran in your direction. Shigaraki stopped closest to you, his baton crackling at his side. "You aren't leaving until you give me some answers."

The sound of blaster shots boomed over the sound of the alarm. Several uniformed soldiers marched in through a side hall, blasters raised as shots rained upon you.

You turned back to Shigaraki, shoving past him. "You can't get answers if we're dead, now move."

He groaned before turning and running in the same direction. "Fine."

"Tomura, do we have to leave now?" The blonde alien girl pouted. "I wanted to stab Chisaki."

"Not now, you idiot." The one covered in burn scars, Dabi, said, turning and running as well.

The air felt fresh outside as you burst through the exit. The starships—including the branded Abyssal Factory ships that seemed to appear from thin air—were close to the exit, as Group A wheeled the carts in.

Aizawa and Snipe shot back at the impending guards as the doors closed, the rest of the team working together to quickly load the weapons.

Before you could join your team, you felt a hand tug you back, long fingers wrapped around your elbow. The harsh spotlights surrounding the building highlighted the scars on his face, jagged and harsh over his lip and right eye, with dry, flaking lines surrounding his eyes and brow. It looked painful.

You were expecting him to look… different. A typical billionaire's son would be prim. Polished. The longer you stared at him the more he looked beat down. Tired. Unkempt, with long, blue hair that blew in every direction, tangled and frizzy.

He opened his mouth to say something, when the Shie Hassaikai's ships appeared in the sky, creating beacons of bright light against the otherwise dark, starry sky. You internally cursed. Backup had arrived.

"Look out!" Shigaraki pushed you in the direction of UA's ships as he dove in the opposite direction, a laser beam from one of the Shie Hassaiki ships shooting the ground on which you stood only a second prior, sending dirt and grass flying.

You scrambled to join the others in loading up the ships, watching as Shigaraki's ship flew off into the distance, the white-hot bullets from the Shie Hassaikai's ship blasters stark against the black sky.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the cart you were unloading burst into flames, sparks and shrapnel flying into the air.

"Everyone set off, now!" Aizawa yelled from the cockpit of his ship.

Scrambling into the back of Ochako's ship, you watched the fire grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The noise of laser bullets whizzing by were muffled as the ship doors closed. The ship lurched as Ochako enabled the thrusters, bringing the ship to warp speed.

Looking over at all the ships flying in a V-formation, Aizawa as the leader, you should've felt an immense sense of pride. You had done it—the mission was a success. Still, in the back of your mind, you felt like you had more questions than you did before, and an unending sense of dread. Tomura was within your grasp and you failed to kill him.

taglist: @zephlovesspacestuf, @booksooks, @tomurafrlover23, @juni0njup1terr, @deadhands69, @mastercheetos, @kittyhyuka, @blizzardprincess, @moonstonejpg, @lysaisland @tapiocakisses @cryptidfuckerofficial

YOU GAVE ME— WHAT

summary; you never imagined your day would be spent picking lice out of your hair, but here we are

characters; isagi, bachira, rin, sae, chigiri, barou, nagi, reo, oliver

a/n; i was watching this girl on tiktok who works at a lice clinic and i thought why not lmao my head’s starting to itch rn ngl :/// also give me smau requests! it can be bllk or jjk idm

post final war Shigaraki posing as a Benihana chef to evade capture in the United States x reader who shows up alone on a weeknight

APRIL FOOLS

synopsis — you break up with them in April fools as a joke

featuring — yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, seishiro nagi, reo mikage, rin itoshi, sae itoshi

a/n — i love making SMAU it’s so fun!!

YOICHI ISAGI

MEGURU BACHIRA

SEISHIRO NAGI

REO MIKAGE

RIN ITOSHI

SAE ITOSHI

.ᐟ fuck first, fight after ♡ Reo Mikage

.ᐟ cw: You hate reo so much you let him fuck you, Smut mdni, Hate sex, dirty talk

"𝐻𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑑" - 𝑂𝑢𝑖 𝑏𝑦 𝑗𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖ℎ

⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡

You hated Reo. You hated his guts. You hated him so much. So fucking much. He made your blood boil and spill over. His presence alone made you clench your fists so hard, you’d end up with a broken nail and crescent-shaped indents in your palm. You hated his filthy rich ass so much that everytime you guys made eye contact, you wanted to jump into a tub full of bleach. You hated how he got everything without working for it. You hated how everything came so easy for him. 

So, you didn’t get why. If you hated him so much, why were you at his house, bent over his study table, taking his fat cock up your needy little cunt. Why was your pussy sucking him in, why were you getting wetter with every thrust. Why were you getting turned on by the dirty stuff he was whispering in your ear.

He was bent over you, hair falling over his face, sweat dripping down his exposed chest. He was wearing a white button-up with black dress pants. 

He only had his shirt unbuttoned, and the rest was still on. 

You, on the other hand, were nearly naked beneath him, clawing at his desk as he held you up with his large hands that wrapped around your hips. Blunt nails digging into you. 

You cried out, telling him you hated him and he’s an asshole.

“Fuck.. reo pull out please, i’m tired” you whined, arching your back, giving him the perfect view of your round ass slapping against his pelvis. 

“I would pull out but everytime i try to, your pussy pulls me in. now what do i do about that, hm?” he asked, you could hear the mockery in his voice. What's worse is that he wasn’t even lying. You were clenching around him, begging him to pull orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

He grunted, kneading your ass, spanking you, he leaned down, kissing down your back and moving up towards your ear.

“I hate you.. I hate you reo” you sobbed, tears rolled down your face, you could say whatever you wanted but your face showed exactly how much you loved having his cock rearrange your insides. 

“Keep hating me, but we both know you’ll crawl back to me, beg me to fuck you and ruin you all over again” he grunted, smirking against your ear before licking it, you shivered. He was balls deep, moving one of his hands to rub rough circles on your clit. Sloppily playing with your slippery pussy. 

“I didn’t even imagine a woman could get this fucking wet, fuck, tell me it feels good” 

“F-fuck off…ngh- fuck fuck right there, reo!” 

“You won’t cum until you tell me it feels good” he said, pinching your clit, making you shriek. You bit down on your lip, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Reo..” 

“Say it. Now.” fucking sadist, fucking hate him, you could feel yourself about to blow, figuratively and literally. 

“I..” you swallowed your pride, or maybe you had already done that when you spread your legs open for the man you hate “it feels so.. Fucking good” you groaned, gasping at the change in pace. Before you knew it, you were cumming around him, screaming his name, scratching down the wooden table. Your pussy throbbed and pulsed around him, making him chuckle. 

“You’re a slut for dick, yn” he grinned, degrading you even more than you had been. 

He pulled out, jerking himself off and finishing on your back.

“I hate you..” you breathed, your knees almost buckling, but he surprisingly caught you.

“I love you too.” 

Taglist: @werfiedeii @sapphireluv @s4turnx1

A/n: I live for hate sex, its so hot

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

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The Black Sun Swallows Whole

shigaraki x reader, scifi au

Consumed by grief after the death of your parents, you throw yourself into researching their killers, a company called The Abyssal Factory lead by All For One, who claim to be for the betterment of society. When you're given the opportunity to fight back against their corruption, you jump at the chance. However, as you get more entangled with your fight against unchecked power, you find that everything is not as it seemed, especially when it comes to the heir to the company, Tomura Shigaraki.

Chapter 1: Vita coming 4.4

evergreen

𖤓 part xi. | series m.list | prev | part xii.

there was a chance that you’ve passed by that tree already. maybe even a few times. you can’t help but silently curse to yourself as you step over the fallen twigs and branches crunching under your feet. with each hesitant step, hawks’ voice rings through your head as a reminder for your poor choice of footwear.

despite the several summers that you’ve spent running around these woods, the last five years have clearly not been kind to its elements. it was almost unrecognizable- not that you’d specifically remember every individual tree from your childhood, but trails heads had been vandalized, miscellaneous wrappers and trash were scattered from tourists during the off-season, and things were… gray.

there you stood in between two trees that seemed annoyingly too familiar as you peer through the woods. you forgot how dark these areas got once the sun began setting on the outside.

maybe you should’ve rallied up a group to search for touya. would that have been too dramatic? you doubt any of the campers would pass up an opportunity to scour the woods with close to zero adult supervision (you and tomura barely count as one functioning adult), and you could’ve easily played it off as just another camp activity. 

you had a thought earlier about stopping by enji’s office to ask about touya’s whereabouts. you could imagine it clearly; touya sitting in one of his dad’s infamous plush rocking chairs, and while he’s working on some paperwork, touya’s talking about the nostalgia of camp- what new, what’s not, everything in between, and maybe even you.

if touya could change so drastically, what were the chances that his dad could too?

you scoffed at yourself, shaking your head at the thought.

“starting to lose it?” a voice snaps your attention up “who knows what walking in circles for 20 minutes could do to a person.”

you look up into the trees to only be blinded by the stark brightness of a phone flashlight.

“touya?” you hold a hand out to block the light from your eyes.

“yup,” he responds, turning the back of his phone towards himself, “in the flesh.”

by now, the sun was halfway past the horizon, leaving you two in the blue dim of the dense trees that not even the remnants of daylight could infiltrate.

“fun day at the lake?” he nonchalantly asks as he swings a leg back and forth.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you scoff. “i’ve been looking for you all day, and you’ve just been here?”

looking for him? he was sure you’d be more than glad to have a day to enjoy the lake without him around, but your sudden burst of anger shuts him up for a moment.

“well i’ve been here.” he shrugs. “i don’t do water.” 

“yes you do.” you raise your voice. “stop fucking lying, touya.”

neither of you were sure as to why you were so upset. you knew this wasn’t about needing more hands to run the group of campers today, and you knew that people change- you were well aware of that- but there was something festering inside of you that was suddenly overflowing like a pot of water left over the burner.

“like seriously,” you continue, “take some accountability for once.”

“accountability? for what?” he scoffs. “hate me when i’m around, hate me when i’m not. tell me what the fuck you want me to do because i thought i was doing you a favor.”

the look on your face made him sick. he would never speak to you this way, but if there was something you both could agree on, it was that he wasn’t him anymore, and hasn’t been for a long time.

“a favor?” you spit as your ears grow hot. “you think you’re doing me a favor by disappearing without letting anyone know? you think you’re doing me a favor by making me think that maybe we could be amicable for the summer, and then pulling some shit like this whenever we have to work together?”

touya rolls his eyes, “if we’re being honest here, i didn’t want to come back to this shit hole either if that’s what you’re really mad about.”

he almost winces when your lips wobble into a frown.

“then why did you, huh?” you choke out, desperately trying to keep your expression still. “because you knew i’d be here. my name was in that email. yours wasn’t. excuse me for being a little bit caught off guard.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. please don’t cry.

“didn’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he coldly says, “and neither do you. i’m here and you’re going to have to deal with it, so i’m so fucking sorry.”

you were quiet- desperately trying to suppress the stream of thoughts, screams, and profanity running through your head.

if the rose colored glasses haven’t melted off this morning from the campers getting into it with each other, it definitely has now.

“coming back here was a mistake.” you began, knuckles going white as you press deep crescents into your palms. “ i should’ve…i shouldn’t have…”

for the first time ever, touya was witnessing you stumble over your words. the sharp tongued, quick witted y/n who was always ready to put him in his place was finally at a loss for words.

“tell me why. why did you come back then?” he interjects. “you regret coming back because i’m here?”

you press your lips together into a tight line. a beat of silence passes.

“coming back here was supposed to be nostalgic. it was supposed to remind me of the best times of my life growing up in these woods, but it’s not. everything is different and that’s fine. I can deal with change, but here you are,“ you scoff, “here you are as a constant fucking reminder for what it used to be, and how it’ll never be that again.”

as if the air in his lungs had been knocked out of him, touya went quiet. you don’t bother waiting for a response before turning on your heels and trekking back where you came from- not even half sure if it was the right direction back to the campsite.

the tips of your ears were burning with anger and frustration, you couldn’t be bothered to stop and think for a moment about the dangers of the situation that you had gotten yourself into.

the woods were almost pitch black. you had no idea where you were going. your sandals were doing nothing for the twigs and rocks digging into the sides of your feet. you could barely see a few feet in front of you, but you didn’t care. you needed to get away.

behind you, you hear the rapid crunching of footsteps following close on your trail.

“don’t follow me,” you say through gritted teeth.

“sorry sweetheart, but you’re not exactly the most directionally gifted eagle scout there was,” he scoffs.

“i don’t care. i don’t want to be anywhere near you right now.” 

“news flash,” he quickens his step, reaching out and grabbing onto your shoulder, “we share a cabin, we’re heading to the same fucking place, and you’re going the wrong way.” he nods his head back towards the opposite direction.

you don’t realize you’re crying until the first tear slips off your chin.

“i hate you.” you look at him for the first time tonight. really look at him.

touya's eyes slightly widen and his mouth gapes open with no words coming out.

you don't remember how long it took for this resentment to build up inside of you or when it was that "he's just busy" and "he's probably preparing for university" turned into "he doesn't care about me" and "i never meant anything to him."

“i hate you.” tears blur your vision, as you angrily wipe your eyes.

 the hand on your shoulder tenses for a moment before his other comes up to your right side.

“i hate you.” you sob against touya’s chest.

touya pulled you into him with a split second of regret. he desperately wants to tell you that it’ll be fine- that he’s here now and he can make things right, but even a promise like that wasn’t enough to convince him.

“i know,” he mutters into your hairline as your tears seep into his t-shirt, “i know.”

he hated himself too.

touya doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t try to comfort you. he doesn’t tell you that it’ll be okay. he lets you ball his t-shirt up in your fists as you tremble in his arms and try to choke back the next sob.

“let’s just get back to camp, okay?” was all he could say and for once, you don’t argue. 

a/n: FFFFUUUIUUUUCCCKKKKKK this was so uuuuhgggghhhhh to write i just want them to kiss and make up already </3 but unfortunately these two desperately need to feel their feelings and tussle it out BADDD

tags:

@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz @blu3-l0v3r @bakugouswh0r3 @kaldurahms-lover @thoughtswithbbg @slothsmoths @reocidal @multi-write @stoned-anime-babe @i-simp-to-much @satansdaughter123 @haunted4love @annybah @linmabbe @boreaswrites @lostsomewhereinthegarden @hearts4heidi @makaroni-and-chez

જ⁀➴ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎

ask me why my heart’s inside my throat. i’ve never been in love, i’ve been alone. feels like i’ve been living life asleep. love’s so strong it makes me feel so weak.

⤷ bandit!ochako uraraka x fem knight!reader

as the prince’s bodyguard, you’ve grown accustomed to a life of quiet luxury and monotony. but when unease threatens to topple the kingdom’s fragile balance, you find yourself questioning just where your loyalties lie. you’re falling for the charming mage at the head of a growing revolution, but are you willing risk it all just to follow her into a new world…?

ㅤ♡ !ㅤ 1 ✦ rumors

ㅤ♡ !ㅤ 2 ✦ poison ivy

ㅤ♡ !ㅤ 3 ✦ say you love me

ㅤ♡ !ㅤ 4 ✦ monsters and men

ㅤ♡ !ㅤ 5 ✦ your only (coming soon)

series will contain mild mentions of fantasy-typical violence, reader and ochako are in their early/mid-twenties, reader is referred to by she/her pronouns

when you accidentally text your crush

featuring: katsuki, izuku, shoto, eijiro, denki, hitoshi

this is my first smau so i hope u guys enjoy it! also, thank you so much for 1.1k followers! im trying to get to asks as quickly as possible :)

the box is heavier than you remember. or maybe it’s just you. maybe it’s the weight of the years, of everything you lost, of everything you never got to say.

you don’t even know why you’re doing this. you should’ve just left it buried in the back of your closet, let it collect dust, let the past stay where it belonged.

but you didn’t.

and now here you are, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, sifting through pieces of a life that slipped through your fingers.

old movie tickets, a tiny stuffed keychain he won for you at a festival, a wrinkled napkin with katsuki’s handwriting telling you to stop being an idiot and eat something.

you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

your fingers tremble when they brush against the stack of photos at the bottom. a part of you wants to put them away, to close the box and shove it back where you found it. but your hands move before you can stop them, flipping through moments frozen in time.

and then you see it.

the one picture that guts you.

it’s nothing special. not posed, not planned. just a random snapshot of you and katsuki, sitting side by side. you’re talking, mid-sentence, probably rambling about something, and he—

he’s looking at you.

not annoyed, not exasperated, not even pretending not to care.

he’s looking at you like you were everything. like you hung the damn stars. like he could sit there forever, just listening to you, just being with you.

your hands shake as you run a thumb over the faded edges, the ache in your chest growing unbearable.

because you don’t have this anymore.

you don’t have him anymore.

and maybe, in another life, in another timeline where things played out differently, where you fought harder, where he stayed—maybe you’d still have the chance to see him look at you like that.

but in this life, all you have is a picture and the ghost of what could have been.

Bassist Touya / (t.todoroki x GN! Reader) (Headcannons)

♡ cw / tw : -

Bassist Touya who ends up with you in his lap as he mindlessly tunes his bass.

Bassist Touya who chuckles when you exclaim that you want to learn to play bass too.

Bassist Touya who takes your hands and guides them to the strings, telling you each cord under his soft breath.

Bassist Touya who watches you carefully play each cord with a smug grin on his face.

Bassist Touya who ends has you read over the songs he writes to get a fresh pair of eyes on his work.

Bassist Touya who writes you love songs - most of which stay as drafts hidden in a box under his bed.

Bassist Touya who will sigh and shake his head when you request a particular song from him - yet he'll go home and look up the cords.

Bassist Touya who searches for you in the crowds.

Bassist Touya who holds eye contact with you during the whole show.

Bassist Touya who demands a kiss from you at the end of each show for his "good work."

Bassist Touya who loves showing off his skills to you. He can't help but bristle happily when you mention how cool or talented his is.

Bassist Touya who will play with you as you sing, grinning as you lean in and meet his gaze, his focus entirely on you.

Bassist Touya who will call you his musical muse. Every song is suddenly about you.

taglist [OPEN] :@luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin- @kaidostwin- @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

Chapter 04.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : -

"We're gonna need a story." Bakugo mumbled as you walked over to him.

"A story?" You tilted your head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well they're obviously going to ask us questions in there aren't they?" Bakugo responded dryly, jutting his thumb towards the door, before rolling his eyes at your blatant stupidity. "We gotta come up with a story, dumbass. How we started getting close..." He looked down and gripped his phone tightly, knuckles going white as his voice dropped slightly, "How.. we fell in love..." He finished, meeting your gaze.

Your tongue kissed your teeth as you scratched the back of your neck.

"Okay how about this. You and I hated each other in highschool.” You stood up straighter and failed to notice the way Bakugo bit the inside of his cheek.

‘I never hated you.’ 

“Which - y’know isn't a lie per say.” You continued, “Now we get close during adulthood cause of uh..." Your voice trails off as you scramble to try and figure out where to take your fake dating cover story. 

It's not like you could've said that you and Bakugo were paired up by your PR teams because you were both slipping in the ranks.

Bakugo sighed and spoke up, finishing the story for you. "Rivalry."

You stared blankly at him.

"Rivalry. You know... constantly going up against each other for the number one spot.” He stepped towards you. “And the constant butting heads drew me towards you.” Bakugo’s eyes flickered down your body, “It pissed me off but it was new. Fresh.” before his gaze pulled itself back up to your face, “To have someone who would go head to head with me." He finished, his body mere steps away from your own, his body heat seeping into your own skin.

You stared at him.

Bakugo stared back.

You continued to hold the eye contact before he quickly averted his gaze, the tips of his ears flushing a soft red.

"A-Ahem... anyways. Do we go in?" He stammered, motioning to the door. "After you." Bakugo mumbled, pulling the door open, following in at your heels.

"I'll do the talking. Just. Sit still and look pretty, mkay." You mumbled under your breath.

You didn't catch the way Bakugo froze at your words, and you didn’t catch the way a bright red blush began creeping up his neck.

-

"It's so lovely that the both of you decided to take the time out of your busy days and even busier schedules to come speak to me!" the interviewer smiles, chipper and naive as they come. 

She meets your gaze and smiles.

"Ofcourse!" You say back. 

'Well it's not like we got a fucking choice dumbass. It's either this or suffer at the hands of Tommie and his sleep deprived ass.' 

You force a smile. 

Any more time spent in this small ass room with the smell of caramel seeping into the pores of everything might actually make you go homicidal.

Said source of the scent of sugar had his hand placed awkwardly on your thigh, and it was obvious he was uncomfortable with the whole ordeal. Bakugo was sweating and shifting around in his seat and it was clear to you at least - that the Pro Hero would much rather be somewhere else right now.

Picking up on his nervousness you placed a hand on top of his own.

'I'm here for you.'

Bakugo's eyes flickered to your face, and you smiled softly.

"...They tell me they hate me. And they do this? Is this just them telling me to calm the fuck down. Of course it is Katsuki. Pull yourself together idiot. You gotta make a good impression. Sell a story."

Bakugo exhaled softly and looked up at the interviewer.

"So. What do you wanna know."

-

Bakugo dropped his bag on his bedroom floor and ran a hand through his hair frustratingly. "What the fuck was that interview..." He grumbled under his breath.

Being a famous hero meant that he had eyes on him all the time. 

It came with the job of course.

He was used to the stares and the questions and all of it. He could read the interviewers like a book. It wasn't hard.

But you... You were like some sort of enigma. He just couldn't figure you out. You were strange. 

Treating him with so much care and love during the interview. And yet you hated him! You told him yourself! To his face!

But the whole interview… the soft touches, the longing stares, the whole… thing. If Katsuki wasn’t painfully aware of the fact it was all fake, he would’ve believed the whole thing. That you were in love with him.

That you were in love. With him.

“Love… what a fucking joke.”

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

Hey Neighbour!

Synopsis: in which you and ex husband!Nanami were neighbours and some time has passed Warnings: angst but happy ending, not proofread Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

the man i assume to be god

☆彡hitoshi shinso x gn! reader

tags—> weed use, nickname use (sweetheart), no use of y/n, first person pov (i'm sorry this is unlike me), childhood friends to weird ass situationship to lovers, it's sappy :| don't be mad,

a/n : this is technically a cross post, since i originally posted this on ao3 years ago, but i wanted to rewrite it for a character i like better and relate to more now. i also changed a bunch of the writing to what's more my style nowadays. so if you've seen this before... no you haven't. This is also the start of me officially beginning my tumblr writing career :] so if you like this lmk and i might do more

-------༚☆༚-------

We made a bad habit of falling asleep in the car.

Hitoshi was always calling me late at night to go for a drive. He'd pick me up in the car he spent too much money on and make some mean comment about my sweatpants and 1 AM eye bags, all before smiling like it hadn't been weeks since he texted. I would get in the car, let the scent of him envelope me, and immediately forgive him. He’d been dealing with the weight of a quarter life crisis, and apparently needed me and some weed to take a load off. Being best friends and head over heels in love since high school made it difficult to say no to him.

We’d fallen into a bit of a routine, unfortunately. Driving out till we found a good place to stop, and then rolling down the windows to watch the few stars that were out. By the time I had shot-gunned him a few times, per his request, my eyelids would droop and there'd be that stomach settling feeling. The kind that makes it so easy to sit perfectly still and never move a muscle. Being so close to him was dreamy, and the buzzing smoke inhalation never failed to take it out of me.

The weed didn't do much to curb my mind though. Whatever we were, whatever racing thoughts I would think all day about him, didn't stop at the car door. The whole thing was messy and so fucking complicated. I tried not to think too hard about it. Most of the time I’d just focus on how pretty he was and how lucky I am to be able to love him.

When he says my name, I swear-

I don’t even know what it does, it kills me so badly.

This one saturday night in particular, Hitoshi didn’t seem as interested in lazy, open mouthed kisses. He seemed fixated on looking at me.

“Hey, you okay?” I nudged his shoulder, attempting to stir awake the Hitoshi I knew. The man only I got to see.

He was a famous work of art, but only I got to hang the framed canvas on my wall. Only I could stand close enough to see each and every brush stroke. No post card or photo could ever compare to the real thing. He was mine, even if he wasn't my boyfriend, he was mine.

“Sorry,” He seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was under, “Just doing too much thinking lately.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” I smirked, tilting my head to get a better angle of his moonlit face.

“You think we could, just, I dunno,” He looked out the open window, lost in the open air and pine trees, “Maybe talk? About this? Us?”

My heart did a 180 in my chest, so, as per usual, I relied on attempted comedy and a smile to take the anxiety away, “Talk about us? I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

“I’m serious, you know." The look on he gave me dropped the smile off my face. He was serious. This was officially bad. My brain wracked itself for every possible negative outcome.

Until he spoke again.

"I’ve been thinking we should try something.” He shifted his hands off the steering wheel to take another hit, then tap the ash out the window. The whole scene was far more attractive than I’d ever admit. The way he put his lips together as he exhaled the smoke in my direction. It was fantastical. Sweet, sappy memories I’d lick off the floor of this car to remember.

I’d do anything to keep him on my mind.

“Try… what?” I asked, genuinely curious and anxious for his answer.

This seemed to bring him all the way back to himself, there was a sly smirk on his lips, “I dunno, sweetheart, what do you think?”

There was that sinking feeling again and my back was glued to the seat, eyes stuck on his face. My mind knew what was coming, but my heart couldn't accept that the thing I'd been dreaming about since I was fourteen, was really coming true. In this very moment. Oh, lord.

He turned to face me fully, and the spell broke. This definitely wasn't a dream. Both our arms resting on the center console brought our faces incredibly close.

We’ve always been this way, together and apart, near, yet so far.

Noses almost grazing each other, I pushed myself to speak in the presence of the man I assume to be god.

“You want me to guess?” I raised an eyebrow despite my aching, heavy heart, “Or will you just kiss me already.”

One thing I loved about Hitoshi, is one way or another, he always did what I told him to do.

He kissed differently than I expected, not so commanding or competitive but slow and compassionate. I knew only then, that everything would be fine. We were together, finally, as one.

We didn’t fall asleep in the car that night.

-------☆-------

a/n : if it was terrible, don't tell me.

i will walk into the ocean and never come back.

thanks to @saemeret for being such a good little beta (annoying baby talk voice) smooch <3

bitch cup mentality // tomura shigaraki

when all you needed was a night with him and a cup of mixed liquor to make some moves

a/n: the fratboy agenda never stops

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis @haruhi269 @starliightfiend @k0z3me

Chapter 03.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : sort of angst at the end? moment of panic attack though it's minor

You pressed the doorbell and stepped back with a pleasant hum. “I don’t know why you bother ringing that shit. I always barge in whenever I have to fucking come here.” Bakugo grumbled as you both stood in front of the door to his mother’s studio. 

You looked back at him and scoffed. “That would be the nice thing to do Bakugo. You wouldn’t know.”

“Being nice is for pussies.”

“And here comes the attitude.” You mumbled under your breath.

Bakugo whipped his head around and glared at you, “Do you really wanna go? We can go right here right fucking now don’t test me-”

The front door swung open and a middle aged blond woman stepped out, offering you a soft smile, “Oh so you must be my son’s partner please please! Do come in! He never stops talking about you my dear- oh and shoes at the doorstep darling, are you hungry? Thirsty? Anything my son can get for you? Katsuki! Be a good boyfriend and help your partner out!” Mitsuki Bakugo shouted as she pushed the door open wider, ushering both of you inside her studio.

“God fucking damnit you hag! Shut the actual fuck up! You know we’re not actually dating! And they can handle themselves! I don’t gotta do shit for them!” Bakugo shouted at his mother as he tugged off his shoes.

“Bakugo!” You whipped your head around and glared at him, eyes narrowed into slits. “Watch your fucking language when you speak to your fucking mother goddamn it! I’m not risking losing an opportunity like this all because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut you dumb piece of shit!” You hissed back at him.

Bakugo stared at you.

Mitsuki smiled.

Bakugo grumbled as you stepped into the studio, the tips of his ears flushing a soft red as his mother nudged him and grinned. He rolled his eyes and followed behind you, crossing his arms across his chest and looking around.

The studio was unfortunately - or maybe it was fortunately - the same as he remembered it when he was younger; and throughout all the different parts of his life. 

His mother’s desk was placed in the same shitty corner, and those creepy looking mannequins were still standing in every corner that they could possibly be placed without being knocked over - each one was covered in some sort of fabric, some of the outfits were finished, some were still a mess of stitching and needle work. 

There were things on the floor, scraps of fabric and tape measures and the whole place smelted of baked goods, like the oven had just been turned off and if he squinted - he could see a small Katsuki and Izuku, reaching for the caramel and chocolate chip cookies behind Mitsuki’s back - before two simultaneous wails would break her out of her thought. She would have to end up putting her needle down and pulling her glasses off her face before tending to the two boys, one whom she scolded and the other whom she carefully doted over.

That particular memory brought a small smile to Bakugo’s face.

He looked around more before his eyes met a small area in the back of the studio which he had dubbed “The hero’s corner” as a child. 

When he was younger he would sit on the floor and play with his action figures. When he started school the toys were replaced with notebooks and pens. He remembered one instance, during first year of highschool, where he was perched in his chair, furiously scribbling in his journal, (He was much too prideful to call it a diary) about you. Pages upon pages wasted as he ranted about how much he hated you. 

The strangest part? 

He had a nagging feeling that he really didn’t hate you-

Nope. Not going down that train of thought today. Thanks a lot Eijirou for putting that idea in my head in the first place. I hope you’re hit by a fucking train shitty hair.

“Katsuki are you even listening!” Mitsuki shouted at Bakugo who snapped back to reality, whipping his head back around and glaring at his mother.

“Shut up you hag! I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here! You already have all of my fucking measurements from when I was fucking born why do I gotta be here for?” He snapped back, fists clenched. Every moment he spent with you in his general vicinity was fucking torture and he felt like he was drowning. The smell of your perfume or shampoo or whatever the fuck you were wearing that he was smelling was slowly killing him here. 

"Y'know what fuck it I'm stepping outside for some air. It smells like shit in here. Open a window or something." Bakugo sighed, shaking his head as he stepped outside, sitting on the stairs.

He ran a hand through his ashy blond hair.

“Fucking shit Shitty Hair.” He hissed under his breath.

-

"This is going to suck so much ass." You sighed.

"Yep."

"Why do I gotta do this shit with you?"

"I'd be damned if I knew." Bakugo mumbled.

Your outfit was stunning and damn, did you feel stunning. Mitsuki really outdid herself when it came to the outfit. It was such a shame that it had to be used on Bakugo of all people. You nervously wiped your hands down your outfit, you had been to a few of these gala’s in the past - hero work tended to come with a lot more rubbing shoulders then you had been led to expect. “How long do we have to be doing this?” You whispered, turning to meet Bakugo’s stern gaze as he stared straight ahead. He clenched his jaw and shrugged. 

“Until the press gets what they want I guess.” He mumbled. He didn’t know how long it would take for them to get here - or when they would leave. When they drain us of our blood. For fuck’s sake. I don’t want to be here. I’d rather be at home right now. Or at the gym. Or god knows where.

Bakugo clenched his jaw, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he forced himself to stare straight ahead. It was suffocating being in here. He thought the studio was bad? His sports car was a million times worse.

You were so fucking close. If he turned his head just a little bit to the side he would be able to point out and count each individual blemish on your face. 

The car reeked of whatever you were wearing. 

Again, not in a bad way. But shit - Bakugo was drowning.

Like he had been caught up in a rip and he was trying so fucking hard to swim to the sides - to safety but you were there and you were smiling at him, looking at him with those eyes and you grabbed him by the leg and forced his head under.

The worst part was that he knew it was going to get worse for him.

And it was all Kirishima’s fault. He was the one that planted this stupid idea in his head in the first place - if he had kept his big mouth shut Bakugo wouldn’t be here worrying about mending a broken relationship.

Shit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He sighed as the sleek sports car pulled up the venue. “Let me get the door for you.” Bakugo mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “What a gentleman.” You muttered under your breath as your ‘date’ stepped outside and pulled the door open for you. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away, throwing a glare at him.

“Don’t. I can handle myself.” You hissed under your breath.

Bakugo scoffed and pulled away, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in. “Did you forget? We gotta put on a show for these blood hungry demons society calls paparazzi. I don’t wanna be doing this shit either but it’s not like we have a fucking choice anyways. So pull that fucking stick out of your ass and take my fucking hand.”

You sighed defeatedly and debated your options, mulling a few thoughts in your head before you reached for Bakugo’s hand, holding your piercing glare as he intertwined his fingers with your own. He met your eyes and a silent understanding sparked between you both.

An hour. Tops. In and out. Give the press what they want so they can bump up our image. And then get the fuck out of there.

“Glad to see we agree on something…” Bakugo mumbled under his breath as he led you up the stairs, the flash of the cameras blinding him. A deep scowl etched into his face as he huffed.

You nudged him softly, meeting his gaze. “Smile.” You whispered as you both stepped up against the doors. “And stop stepping on my shoe.” You hissed. 

Bakugo rolled his eyes. 

You both smiled as the cameras flashed away, draining you of your essence. Of what made you both - fundamentally - you.

By the end of the night you would be a piece of gossip. An image on the newspapers. The name rolled off the tongue of a jealous fan. The name whispered in adoration of an obsessive stalker. A name.

A title.

Bakugo’s eyes flickered to your face for a moment before his arm snaked around your waist and gave you a soft squeeze. I’m here for you.

“Are you good?” Bakugo whispered as he led you inside. “You looked kinda out of it.” 

“I hate the paparazzi.” You mumbled as he led you up the stairs. 

“Yeah well. You don’t gotta worry about em too much in here.” He shrugged, letting his arm drop when the flashing lights were out of view. “Chill out with your friends, do whatever I dunno. I’ll text you at eleven to pick you up and go home. Alright?” Bakugo gave you a one over, eyes flickering from your face down to your body and then back up to your face.

The stare made you slightly self conscious. 

Don’t look at me like that. 

You huffed, raising your arms to your chest, nodding as you averted your gaze.

Bakugo stared at you, a small frown tugging at his lips. “Right uh.. Be safe I guess.” He mumbled.

You nodded. “Yea… uh you too?”

-

“You’re out here? Shouldn’t you be inside?” Bakugo’s voice came out as gruff as he stepped out onto the balcony. You didn’t bother turning around as he moved to stand beside you. You took in a deep inhale of the fresh night air.

It was biting against your arms.

“Yea… I got tired of being there. My social battery is a little low today so y'know? I just needed the space.” You mumbled, not bothered to explain your reasons for staying outside to the likes of Bakugo.

He merely nodded as he wordlessly stared up at the sky. “Can I ask you something?” 

“You already did.”

“Something else idiot.”

You snorted, covering it up with a cough. “Yea go ahead.” 

“You hate me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an observation. 

You hated Bakugo. 

You hated his ego. 

You hated his pride. 

You hated the way he made you feel like a pebble in his path to success. 

You hated his anger. 

You hated the way he had changed. 

You hated how he tried to remedy things. 

You hated the way his eyes sparked. 

You hated the way he spoke to you - so soft and delicate, like a flower losing its petals.

You hated him.

A chill ran up your arms, and you rubbed them softly. Did I forget my coat in the car? I got so worked up over the whole gala I forgot my coat!

You were about to curse out loud at your stupidity - but before you were able to, you were enveloped by a soft caramel scent mixed with something spicy? Cinnamon?

“You’re shivering.” Bakugo pointed out. “You left your coat in the car.”

You huffed, pulling his suit jacket closer. “Thanks…” You mumbled looking up at the sky. “Do you… like the stars?” You looked over at Bakugo who was staring up at the inky void. The light pollution was annoying, you could barely see a thing, but the small little dots that you did see would lift your spirits anyways.

Even if most of them were dead.

“I do.” He nodded. “You didn’t answer my question.” He turned to you. “Do you hate me?”

You went silent for a moment, pulling the jacket closer and looking back up. “Yea.”

“Yea. I think… I hate you.”

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine - @samm1e13 - @kawoala

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

Chapter 02.

“So.” Bakugo sighed, meeting your eyes.

“So.” You echoed, averting your gaze.

“You two both need outfits for the gala.” Tommie said pointedly. “Wren and I-” ‘Bakugo’s PR manager’ you recalled, she was there when you had grabbed the man and almost began fist fighting with him in his office, “Have decided that you should both be wearing matching outfits.” 

The mere thought of wearing anything matching with the likes of Bakugo has you wanting to claw your own arms off. Clearly Bakugo is more composed than you since he just inhales sharply and rubs his forehead with his hand.

“Right… so… where are we getting these outfits done up exactly?” Bakugo sighed, looking at Tommie who waved his hand absentmindedly at the pro’s face.

“Oh y'know… Mitsuki… Bakugo…”

“Are you FUCKING-”

Bakugo ran a hand across his face and he groaned. He tossed his phone across his bed, watching it hit against his bedside lamp and stop moving on his bedside table. Kirishima’s text glared at him from behind his eyelids.

‘Your crush on them.’

He was being ridiculous. That’s right. All of the bright red hair dye has seeped into his skull and started fucking around with his brain cells. He didn’t have a crush on anyone, he didn’t fucking have time for that shit anyways.

In his very humble and not at all biased opinion, love was: 

A waste of time.

Overrated.

Not in Bakugo's best interests.

Not in Bakugo’s plan to become the number one hero.

Too much effort.

Too much work to maintain.

Could potentially cause emotional turmoil.

Usually have unrealistic expectations.

So why did the idea of being in love with you have such an affect on him? It didn’t make any sense. He was probably just hungry or tired or- y'know what it didn’t matter much anyways. He had shit to do, stuff to get done. Shit on his plate he needed to deal with.

Bakugo sat up from his seat on the bed, fist bunching up the sheets around him. He looked longingly at the suit being hung up in his closet. 

This is going to be one long fucking month.

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @strawberry-wine320 - @kalulakunundrum

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

twenty three.

You hated Katsuki Bakugo. And he hated you back. Ever since you both butted heads back in highschool it'd been a constant back and forth between you both. It's only when you graduate and slowly drift apart from eachother - that you can finally breathe. Until you're back into his line of sight and working alongside him - courtesy of his lovely PR team. And then your PR teams decide that it'd be best for both of your reputations - that you both start a fake relationship. And it sounded stupid but now it's kinda working? So maybe it's just best that you play along...

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : alcohol, cussing, suggestiveness, g/n reader, will include written parts

♡ currently in progress

كاتسوكي - baby's only twenty three. - باكوغو

⠀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ⠀⠀( 23 - Chase Atlantic )

Meet the cast !

-> Bakusquad

-> Dekusquad

── ACT ONE.

Chapter 01.

Chapter 02.

Chapter 03.

Chapter 04.

Chapter 05.

── ACT TWO.

tba.

── ACT THREE.

tba.

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @kalulakunundrum - @sexylexy12 - @rednicotine

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

♪ ༘⋆ drawn to you — t.todoroki smau

♪ ༘⋆ vii. the offer 𝄞 ix. family dinner 𝄞

♪ ༘⋆ viii. drive 𝄞 m.list

dabi was leaning lazily against the side of his pitch black car, when you hushed down the stairs of tomura's apartment building to meet him. in his right hand was his phone, that he was haphazardly tapping on and in his left was an untouched coffee cup. nestled between his lips was, of course, a lit cigarette. his eyes locked onto you making your way across the parking lot and he shot his sitter a last message before letting his phone slide into the pocket of his black jeans. by the time you reached him, he had taken another long drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke faced away from you. you wanted to tell him, that you didn't mind, but your rising nerves had you bite your tongue. 

his eyes flitted up and down your body before landing on your eyes. he noticed, that you were a bit shifty on your feet and given how he'd last seen you, the anxious state you were in now, didn't exactly surprise him. with a playful smile he took the cigarette from between his teeth and held the coffee cup out for you to take.

"thanks." you muttered, eyes darting immediately to the liquid sloshing around the ice cubes in the cup. your fingers clawed into the plastic, as if you were holding onto that coffee cup for dear life. you took a sip, surprised to find that it tasted exactly the way you usually ordered it. 

when you looked up at dabi with your eyebrows knit in confusion, he just offered you a lazy grin. "not good?" his eyes studied your expression.

you shook your head, taking tiny sips of the drink. "no, no, it's really good." he grinned, watching the wheels turn in your head. even if only for a couple of seconds, he had given you something else to focus your attention on, than whatever terrified you so much about this evening. 

dabi took one last drag of his cigarette before crushing it against the side of a trash can and throwing it out. he nodded his head toward the car. "ready?" you sighed, feeling the exact opposite of ready. but you knew, you had no other choice. "as i'll ever be." you walked around to the passenger side of the car and let yourself drop into the seat. he followed suit and sat in the driver's seat a moment later. without another word spoken between the two of you, you punched your mother's address into his car's navigation system as he backed out of the parking lot.

the first ten minutes of the drive, neither of you spoke a word. you were still nibbling at the coffee and dabi's eyes were focused on the road, though you missed the few times, he glanced over to the passenger seat.

"you ever gonna tell me what's got you so freaked out about this?" his eyes were on you for a bit longer now. though he kept the car pretty steady. your eyes slowly peeled away from him, finding comfort in staring at the slowly emptying plastic cup. he deserved an answer, you knew that. he had agreed to drive up to a stranger's mother's house to have dinner and asked basically no questions about it all. so, yeah, it was safe to say, that he deserved at least some kind of answer.

"my mom and i don't exactly have the most normal of relationships." your eyes were still glued to the last couple of sips of coffee, that you had left. too embarrassed to look at dabi. he wasn't saying a word, waiting for you to continue. not that, a strained relationship with your mother wasn't enough reason. after all, he would know. but something told him, that this wasn't all. "and her boyfriend's a real piece of work."

he almost didn't hear it, with how quietly you were speaking, but the word 'boyfriend' made his ear perk up. you had only really mentioned your mother so far and now dabi wondered, what could a boyfriend possibly have done to have you that terrified of going there. it wasn't his place to continue prying, though. and he could tell from the way your cowering shoulders shifted away from him just slightly, that you were done talking about it, too.

you hadn't even noticed, that he had stopped driving two minutes ago. dabi had parked neatly in the driveway of your mother's house. it was smaller than he had expected, knowing tomura's father, then again, maybe that was just the remnants of the gilded cage he'd grown up in, seeping through to his thoughts. he shook off the cold memories, focusing his attention back on you. if it were in any other situation, he would find it terribly endearing, that you couldn't stop fiddling with the hem of your oversized sweater. or how your eyes were always glued to your feet, the very second a situation became uncomfortable to you. dabi slid his phone into the pocket of his jacket before pulling himself up from his seat and opening the car door. you didn't move a muscle. even as dabi made his way across the car to your side, you were still sitting pin straight; too busy staring at your shoes to notice, that he had opened the door for you.

"ready to go, doll?"

that however made your ears perk up. your face looked entirely devoid of anxiety. rather than the terror in your eyes, that you had tried your hardest to mask for the past forty-five minutes, your face now sported a raised brow and a pursed lip. the exact look of annoyance, that dabi had grown so accustomed to seeing from you. you huffed, not gracing him with any further response and stepped past him. with a low hum and the faintest grin on his face, dabi followed you. neither of you were sure, what exactly you were about to walk into. 

[ taglist open ]

tags: @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @hktfbuo @commonmisery @lsunncy @kyiyoko @seijuroww @themultifandomgirl @samm1e13 @kalulakunundrum @porusuniverse @oddball08 @starseclipsing @jlly1 @softasshadows @peachesvault @starzzworld @starrmage @letsgolulu @cristy-101 @brixmeeler @skeletonmoths @togeswrld @personally4runa @sunolls @chiara-hotel @bakugouswh0r3 @rueclfer @bangersplusmash @defnotriri @oliveoil422 @ravencrow1995

ignore the timestamps

Noisy Neighbours

Smau: in which you tell the jjk men devastating news Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Ino, Shiu, Hiro

where they like to kiss you ──── league of villains.

featuring. shigaraki, dabi, mr. compress, twice, spinner, toga. ( no all for one bc i don't like him )

notes. welcome to a draft from july 2024 🔥 adding this to my 'where they like to kiss you' series for my other fandoms

𖥔 ݁ ˖ TOMURA SHIGARAKI

hands. you can't convince me that he doesn't have a hand fetish or loves hands. of course, shigaraki wouldn't associate your hands with the ones he wears. he actually shows a lot of love to your hands, either gently kissing it or quickly pecking it. doesn't matter when or where, he wants to hold your hands all. the. time. this guy doesn't know how to kiss anywhere else, because it's a bit awkward for him to kiss elsewhere. expect little circles and a bit of gentle tracing.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ TOUYA TODOROKI ( DABI )

dabi likes to kiss the top of your head, somewhere where your skin cannot feel his rough lips. this man is insecure when it comes to making contact with your skin. he feels as if he doesn't deserve to kiss you just as much as you kiss his scars or even his lips. dabi loves to rest his chin on your head despite wtv your height is, move down to bury his face into your hair and boom. kiss. shower bro with love afterwards.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ ATSUHIRO SAKO ( COMPRESS )

gentleman gentleman gentleman. compress adores kissing your knuckles along with your forehead. he's so gentle and sweet with peppering your knuckles n forehead with kisses. when he kisses your forehead, he makes sure to cup your cheeks and caress them with his thumbs. let's not forget the fact that he'll probably do the flower magic trick after adjusting your hair behind your ears. WAH HES THE STANDARD HES THE GENTLEMAN FOR REAL

𖥔 ݁ ˖ JIN BUBAIGAWARA ( TWICE )

twice lovesss kissing your entire face. his kisses are really sweet and innocent. like his world just lights up whenever he sees you, running over to shower your face with fluttering kisses. will not leave a single spot on your face unattended. he's so cute too, always spoiling with really cute affirmations that will always make you melt and want to kiss him back twice as much as he did. except he'll probably kiss you even more. it's literally unending...

𖥔 ݁ ˖ SHUICHI IGUCHI ( SPINNER )

the side of your head, aka your temples. he has this thing like, he snuggles his beak nose thingy against your cheeks before he kisses the side of your head. i don't know how that works but he loves pecking kisses on your temple. spinner probably massages your temples whenever you have headaches, one of the cure is definitely having his beak thingy nuzzling your temples for and in comfort.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ HIMIKO TOGA

sweet toga absolutely loves to kiss you on your lips and entire face like her bestie twice. she just loves to see the flustered face you'll always make whenever she pecks your lips. she'll then move onto your face, first kissing your nose then your eyes then cheeks vice versa. at the end, toga will squish your cheeks or playfully pinch it, her tolerance for your cuteness overloading. my girl will also squeeze you into a bear hug that you'll never escape from. you love it tho.

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

Mornings with Husband!Nanami

He finds mornings bittersweet. 

On one hand, he has to go to work, and worst of all, leave you. And on the other, he gets to see a side of you he only sees in the early hours of the day, when most of the city seem to still be asleep and he gets to catch sight of your slumbering face without you knowing and grumbling about it.

Husband!Nanami always has the ring on his alarm off. So instead of that obnoxious blaring, he’s instead woken up by vibrations which rumble under his pillow. Why does he do that?

Well, of course, because he doesn’t want to wake you. 

Even before you two officially began dating, you made it abundantly clear how much you hate waking up early. And then when you had started dating, you made it exponentially clearer how much you absolutely, irrevocably despise — nay, resent! — having to part ways with his warm, solid body. 

Husband!Nanami slides himself out of bed, dressed only in his boxers, and he tucks the covers back over you, smiling to himself as you snuggle against his pillow. 

Once showered, he makes a quick breakfast and makes sure there’s a fresh pot of coffee for you before he heads back into the room to change as quietly as possible. Tiptoeing, he makes his way around the room, avoiding the parts of the floor that creak. And despite his best efforts, his darling wife apparently has instincts a successful sorcerer with quality skills and talents cannot overcome. 

“Kenny,” you groan out. 

Husband!Nanami sighs, mentally kicking himself for his carelessness. “Morning, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for waking you.”

“Mmm, it’ll be okay if you kiss me.”

He watches you push yourself up with your eyes closed just as he buttons his shirt. There’s a sleepy smile on his face that’s dazzling and your eyes are compelled by that divine light to open just enough to beckon him over. 

Husband!Nanami loves to tease, so he says, “I’d love to, darling, but your morning breath is infamously deadly.”

A laugh is startled out of him by the finger you shove in the air.

Husband!Nanami can’t ever say no to you. He just can’t. He’s tried a couple times: when you asked for a parrot, when you wanted to squeeze him in a pretty dress of yours, and when you tried to propose to him. 

Sometimes he was successful. Sometimes he wasn’t. This time is the latter. 

“Alright, but just one kiss, okay? And then I have to go. Promise me, honey.”

Husband!Nanami knows you have your fingers crossed behind your back when you nod with a cheesy grin, citing, “Scout’s Honour!”

And just as he suspects, you do not stick to your promise and he finds himself wrestled into bed with your surprising strength — though, he won’t admit that he doesn’t exactly fight your hulk-like grip. 

Husband!Nanami arrives at work right on time, which by his standards is late, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, when he settles into his office, he’s opening the picture you sent him and it's an arrow to the heart. You're in bed wearing his shirt, and just his shirt, with the most adorable pout ever. It takes him all his strength to fight the urge to drive home and bury himself in your arms…

Maybe even between your legs, but that’s lunchtime’s problem. 

Husband!Nanami can't wait.

new hire — bakugou katsuki

summary. when midoriya suggests bakugou make his way up the rankings, he takes you under his wing: someone with no hero experience other than their license exam and a dream.

god he’s such a pathetic little idiot love him

Pathetic piner!Gojo has loved you all his life. You’ve been best friends since you were in diapers and even though he didn’t know what love was at the ripe old age of two weeks, he knew, you were the one. 

Pathetic piner!Gojo lucked out when you two had gotten drunk during some stupid college party and you kissed him. Sure, you thought he was someone else, but a kiss was a kiss, until it turned into more. 

That ‘more’ was the best night of his life; he gotten to see sides of you he had only ever dreamed about, tasted inches of your skin he never thought he’d feel, and best of all?

He made you feel good. 

Maybe not as good as you made him feel but every time after that, he had worked hard to bring you closer and closer until you could share that feeling that’s been brewing in his heart since. 

Pathetic piner!Gojo wasn’t the biggest fan of the arrangement you two had began — he wanted more, craved more, but he didn’t dare push you. He’d lose his mind if that ever happened. So, instead, he told himself it was enough. He was your best friend, you trusted him with everything, you shared memories no one else could ever have, and you were in his bed practically every night. No one could replace him. 

And. That. Was. Enough. 

But…

You would do things that made him hopeful. When you brushed his hair back, adjusted his sunglasses, and called him ‘pretty.’ Things that threatened to pull his heart right out of his ribcage so he could give it to you. These were things that made him special. It must have been a sign of love, the kind that he feels, the obsessive, all-consuming, manic love.

Right?

Why is it then, that he’s watching a guy leave your apartment just as he’s carrying a bag full of takeout to surprise you with?

Pathetic piner!Gojo rushes to your room and bangs the door much louder than he’d like but he can’t seem to care about it. And when you open said door and come out, surprised and concerned, the words that leave his quivering lips are drowned out by the tears that are falling from his eyes. 

Pathetic piner!Gojo asks, voice rough and distorted, “Did you sleep with him? Do you love him?”

Thoroughly confused, you can only reply with an ‘uh, no?’

His laugh isn’t one you recognise. It’s mean and scathing but not at you. No, never at you. 

“Satoru, that was just a classmate dropping off some notes. What’s wrong?”

Pathetic piner!Gojo rambles on and it’s as if he can’t hear you. “So then why don’t you want to date me? Why don’t you love me the way I love you? Do you even have any idea how I feel? Baby, I feel like I’m dying. Like someone’s just torn a hole through my chest. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat or breathe or live! P-please…just give me a chance. I’ll be good.”

Pathetic piner!Gojo is baffled when you start laughing. His tears pause mid-way and he even feels the tips of his ears burning despite not knowing why exactly he should feel embarrassed. 

“Toru! You actual idiot. I thought we’ve been dating all this time.”

Pathetic piner!Gojo says, “Oh.”

“Get in, loser. We’re gonna have to have a talk.”

And despite the stern tone of your voice, Pathetic piner!Gojo smiles and skips inside your apartment feeling mighty good about himself. 

Until, of course, he realises he dropped the takeout. 

swoon

Husband!Nanami missing you

Usually it was Husband!Nanami leaving for business trips, not you. But for one reason or another, the roles have been reversed and he doesn’t quite know how to feel.

“Bye, sweetheart. Text me when you get there, alright?” He says, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Everything you could possibly need for your week-long trip is organised meticulously in your suitcase so you’re all packed and ready to go, thanks to him. 

Giggling, you peck your husband on his lips. “Yes, I will. I’ll text you so often you’re going to get sick of me.”

Husband!Nanami smiles. How could he not?

“That won’t ever happen, sweetheart. You should get going now; you still have to get through security. I love you.”

“I love you more!” You yell out, rushing away with a final wave goodbye. 

Under his breath, he mutters, “I love you most.”

And so that was that.

Husband!Nanami returns to an empty home, already feeling your absence. He knew he’d have a difficult time — he always did. Whenever he was away to Kyoto or Osaka or even further, he would count the days till he gets to come back to you. But now, he’s counting down the days till you get back to him and gosh, time really does move slowly when you’re not having fun.

On the first day, he busies himself with all the things he doesn’t really get to do when you’re home. Things like reading a book (you find him absolutely adorable with his reading glasses and he can barely get through a chapter before you’re snuggling up in his lap and distracting him with kisses), watching the news (you much prefer fiction over cold, harsh reality and he obliges you every time), and taking a nice, long and relaxing bath on his own (he always has wife-shaped bathing buddy occupying the tight space with him).

Husband!Nanami never complains about the fact that most days he has go without the solo activities he used to cherish before being in a relationship with you. Of course not. It wasn’t as if he ever ‘gave up’ or ‘sacrificed’ anything. Things were just different.

But a good different. 

He knew that getting with, proposing and marrying you. And he knows that now. 

Especially when he realises that none of his books from his ‘to be read’ file are very interesting, what with them all being about the same thing — he really ought to branch out into other genres. The news is depressing and all there seems to be these days are bloodshed and destruction — as a sorcerer that’s all he’s ever know, so why would he subject himself to anymore of it at home?. And baths?

Overrated. 

Unless, of course, they’re shared with you; he’d much rather feel your soft, warm flesh against his. 

That sole thought occupies his mind as he spontaneously boards a plane and counts down the hours until he gets to see your face, likely full of surprise but also, hopefully, of acceptance and love. 

Husband!Nanami isn’t ashamed to admit he couldn’t last a day without his wife. He isn’t ashamed to admit that living alone, without you, is his worst nightmare. And he will never be ashamed to declare to the world that he doesn’t even think he exists outside of you. 

Because to your Kento, he is a husband first, and everything else second.