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sugarlywhispers · 27 days

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b.katsuki + reader!Quirk similar to him

Your first year at UA was going amazingly. Not only because it meant it was one step closer to your dream of being a hero, it also brought new challenges and new people into your life. You have made two new best friends: Gouna, a tall girl with an elastic type of Quirk, and Zynu, an exchange student from Greece, who had a fast Quirk. Literally, she was freaking fast.

The first semester of school consisted in getting to know each of the classmates and oneself. Training, studying, physical tests in groups. Also boring tests like Maths and English.

But it has been magnificent so far.

Until the training camp. Pushing one's Quirk to the limit had literally brought you to tears. Being a cold type of quirk yourself, you never thought you would be able to do what you were doing. But you gave your all, like always. You were focused. Witty and ready. Ready to fight for that number one spot in the rankings at every moment of your life. And very loud about it too.

"She reminds me of someone…" Kan-sensei once commented to Aizawa-sensei, smiling amused.

Your black haired teacher rolled his eyes, "Please, no…"

You didn't know who they were talking about at the time, but whomever they were, you decided you would be fucking better.

That camp had been one hell of a test for everyone.

Or so that's what all of you thought until the day to meet the Big Three came.

Despite other previous years, these Class 1s, A and B, hadn't met them until closer to the end of their first year. Apparently, they had been on a mission in another country.

"Can you believe it??? They haven't even graduated yet and they already go on missions!!" Zynu exclaims, giving little fast jumps as the whole classes 1-A and B awaits for the Big Three to arrive at Gym Gamma.

"Well, our little Y/N has nothing to envy them, right?" Gouna lays her forearm on one of your shoulders, making you smile.

"Ughh, I still can't believe Hawks himself asked you for help…" Zyna smiles so happy for you, her hand grabbing yours and shaking it way too fast in excitement. Gouna laughs at the way your one fast and joyful friend pulls you.

"She was only called because Hero Shoto wasn't around to help."

The annoying voice behind you makes you groan.

"Don't you have anything else to do than to prove how very in love you're with my friend here?" Gouna's words make you snort before turning around.

Hamata Aiko, the one guy that always has an opinion about you –a bad one, if you may add– stands there, all bulky, full of himself and annoyingly looking down at you like you're scum, with hands closed in fists.

"All of you are going to be in love with me once I take down all three of the Golden Trio…" He declares, flexing his arm so his bicep pops out even more. Disgusting.

The look you share with your two best friends, followed by a cackle of loud laugh, brings the attention of most students around.

"I'll bring tissues for when you cry like a baby after being embarrassingly defeated. But that was a great joke, Aiko-chan," you can hear the grit of his teeth at your mockery.

A huge shadow with red eyes suddenly appears behind Hamata. "A joke indeed," the low voice that came from the shadow makes this same boy jump away like a scaredy cat.

You back away a few steps just so you don't get stepped on. Light then clears everyone’s vision and you see this man– this mountain of a man, with red eyes and blond hair, a few steps in front of you. You can’t help but think he’s insanely huge, more than anything you could have ever imagined. And the other two guys that also appear on each side of this blond mountain are just as big. Maybe not in muscles and height, but each of them has a powerful energy and stance that immediately makes you succumb to their glorious presence.

Like… fuck. Like fucking heroes! The biggest ones you have ever seen. Ever been in front of.

And you want that. You want that majestic power. That strength that makes everybody believe and trust that they are the best.

"Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you finally!" The green haired one greets enthusiastically as the blond mountain rounds him to let him stand in the middle. You also noticed how the blond one and the duo colored haired one stand two steps behind, giving this greenie one space, giving him the lead. "We are very sorry it took us this long to meet, but we hope to make the best of our time together!"

"He's too much of a sunshine," Gouna whispers at you and Zyna, the latter smiling and nodding. You somehow doubt it. Something tells you he is as deadly as his two companions look.

"My name is Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Deku," lots of whispers and gasps from the students are heard as he turns to his right, where the blond mountain stands with his arms crossed over his big chest, a frown deep in his face, "this is Bakugou Katsuki, hero name: Dynamight," some grunts and groans are heard. You even hear a kid say "this is going to fucking hurt", and you definitely feel that. Especially when you see the satisfying smirk on the blond mountain's face. "And, this is Todoroki Shouto, hero name: Shoto."

More whispers and grunts. Some look excited, others are already lamenting getting to class today. But most of the students are terrified. These Big Three look nothing like third year students. They look fucking Pro, and that shit’s scary. Not even your first day as an intern in Gang Orca’s agency made you this uneasy. (And it’s Gang Orca we are talking about!)

"It's Endeavor's kid," Gouna whispers, eyes open wide in excitement looking at Todoroki Shouto. Her biggest dream is to be part of the fire hero agency, but she had told you how that was a mere dream considering how Hero Endeavor only took fire type Quirks in. You feel sad for her, but still encourage her to at least try it. The “NO” was already a given; what harm could be to try for the “YES”?

Of course, you all have heard about the rumors circling the Big Three and their achievements. You are a liar if you say that, even if they are supposedly rumors, their stories don't ignite a spark of hope and admiration over them. However, being in their actual presence is a whole different feeling.

"So today, we are fighting," Midoriya Izuku smiles, but surprisingly enough for everyone except you, the kindness doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes change demeanor and look challenging, a bit scary even. (Ha! You knew it! He isn't as sunshinie as he looks.)

"We did this exact same exercise with the current Big Three of our first year, but this time we decided to give you all a bit of advantage, uniting both classes for the exercise, so you can have the upper hand." The shiny smile doesn't leave his face, and while most around you sigh in relief, you know right then and there is a fake sense of security. It's a trap.

And by the way some unnoticed snorts are heard from behind greenie, it's more than obvious.

This will definitely hurt.

You realize then, as Midoriya Izuku takes his bow and school jacket off and steps back closer to his own classmates, how his other two companions are getting ready. Todoroki Shoto hasn't his jacket nor his school shirt on already, but a sport kind of shirt that accentuates his defined chest, where the sleeves only cover a bit of his shoulders, arms on display. This is definitely strategic for his own quirk, half hot and half cold. You wonder if the material is actually made to bear and endure the changes of temperature in his body, like the ones you wear. Bakugou Katsuki, on the other hand… Holy. Mother. Of. All Might. He now stands with his whole school shirt unbuttoned, chest and muscles and freaking abs on display, sleeves rolled up his forearms, jacket lost somewhere. You haven't actually had time to admire any type of physics in boys since the year started, being completely focused on your goals and dreams. Now, this hot mountain of a man makes you feel things you haven't before. Is that the feeling of butterflies on your stomach as the tingles travel through your body? Fuck, it’s distracting. (Very much so.)

You have to mentally slap yourself to focus. This is not the time to drool over an upperclassmen.

"This is your moment to try your moves and Quirks, they will gladly take them and give you feedback. But remember, this is a sparring, nothing to seek real harm. Have fun, children," Aizawa-sensei speaks as he walks towards the entrance door of the gym and stands there, away from the bloodbath that is about to happen. (If you had to define what betrayal looked like, Aizawa-sensei’s smirk as he stands there looking should be it.)

You, in a very calculated and dissimulated way, grab both of your friends' wrists and pull them back slowly, away from where the Big Three stand. They don't say anything and follow you. After so many group tests passed, you three have learned to work together very well. And with one look, all three of you understood. If you wanted to at least hit one of them, you would have to be a team. No solo fight could win them. And even then, there was no guaranteed win over them. They look, and you're pretty sure they are, very strong.

All three of them crouch a bit, showing they are ready, evil smiles plastered in their faces like they enjoy each and every little sound that showed how scared the two classes were.

How sadistic. You love it.

You so want to fight at least one of them, one on one. But you know you don't have a chance to win moving on your own. Yet.

"Should we go first?" Deku suggests, seeing how no young student is brave enough to approach.

It's not that you are not brave. You're not stupid enough to volunteer for death first.

Dynamight and Shoto look at each other for a moment before looking back to the front, both smirking, and then the blond mountain yells, "FUCKING DIE, EXTRAS!"

A blast clouds everyone's sight for a moment, before you have to jump to the side as Shoto slides with his ice way too close to you. And then it's chaos. Quirks and fights are seen and heard around. And fuck, you have to dodge Shouto's ice three more times. Not to mention his fucking fire.

Your best friends and you remain as far from the Big Three as you can. Gouna got caught by a little piece of ice from Todoroki on her right cheek, cutting it a bit. Zyna, on the other hand, in these kinds of environments gets anxious, moving rapidly on her spot, needing release to do something in her fastness tempo. You… you get calculating and observing. Everyone around is losing against the Big Three. They are too strong, too big. Students are falling to the ground like levees, no matter how strong some of their Quirks are. These three professionals know what they are doing and how to do it.

It's going to take more than just guts to confront them.

Then you see it. Shoto is standing close to Dynamight. And if he moves, he comes back closer to the blond as fast as he can. Oh. Are they guarding each other's backs? Your eyes travel around the gym until you find Deku on the other side of the gym, fighting at least a dozen of the students, who are trying to get their one on one sparring. Of course, none of them win, other than detailed observations from the one third of the Big Three and a punch that knocks them out.

An idea then surges in your head. The one creating way too much chaos is Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe, just maybe, if there's a way to distract Todoroki Shouto, you could have a chance to at least try to take Dynamight out.

Alright, maybe not completely out, but at least a punch or two. That would be satisfying enough.

Your eyes travel to your two best friends, and somehow –even though none of you have any telepathic Quirk– you all know what to do.

You three high five together before running to different parts of the gym. You run towards the build up rocks behind and explode some to create more small and medium ones. While doing this, Zyna is smartly distracting both third year students. Running, flying around them to just annoy them as they try to attack her with their Quirks, which is impossible to target her for how fast she is. Once you're done, Gouna is right there, arm expanding to create like a catapult to throw the rocks in their direction.

"Hey!" Deku yells, but he's been held back by his own fights to do anything. It's enough though to grab his other two classmates' attention.

It's your turn to smirk now at their surprised expression, excitement driving your whole system.

Bakugou's eyes find yours as you say, "Now you fucking die."

The rocks fly their way faster than they expect. Both of them fire at them to disintegrate the rocks into ash. And that's exactly what you wanted to happen. The ash creates a wall of smoke that won't let them see either of you.

Zyna helps Gouna to run fast towards Todoroki Shouto so she could evolve him with her elastic arms and legs, putting him out of the fight. One down.

And you… Fucking. Damned. Shit. Why do you always pick the hardest and most difficult fights? You don't know. But you always win. So, could you win against this big mountain?

Only one way to know…

The smoke helps you disguise yourself in it, but you can feel his careful and ready at all times stance. So you play. A spark of explosion from your ice here, and he answers with another of his own fire one. Creating more smoke. Funny. Another spark of your ice there, and he answers again, groaning in annoyance and pain when a sudden spark of your ice finds his left forearm.

"FUCK! FACE ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

You chuckle maliciously from behind him, right at the moment your ice explosions hit the back of his knees. You're not stupid to even think that you'll be able to win a one on one. You need the advantage in height at least.

How's the saying goes? If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain… Or well, in this case, you'll make Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Hero Dynamight come to you.

Before Bakugou inevitably falls after that cold blast against the back of his knees that unbalanced him, he tries turning around and shooting whomever it's being a pain in his ass. He doesn't count with the knowledge of how small you are compared to him that you fit perfectly in between his stretched arms that are ready to shoot.

As he falls back, your crazed smile is the last thing he sees before an explosion of white and cold happens just in his goddamn face.

A hard and strong thud is heard as the smoke around finally dissipates, giving one impressive image that leaves everyone around stoic and in silence.

Bakugou Katsuki is laying on the floor. You're kneeling on his big chest, hands with spreading cold smoke, like snow, right at his face. His expression is one of complete taken aback and surprised. Like, he can not believe what just happened, as the smirk it's still on your face.

"Who's the fucking extra now?"

You're both inhaling rapidly, trying to bring your breathing back to normal. Your eyes won't leave his, completely enraptured in his deep ruby color, filled with so much fire it feels like he's trying to melt you. (And you would, if these were other circumstances.)

You then stand up and step back from him, smiling. You fucking won! And against this enormous and angry mountain! Fuck yeah!

He’s still lying on the floor, looking very surprised, so you laugh as you stretch a hand to help him up. Bakugou Katsuki takes it, a little side smile finally appearing as he shakes his head and stands. Now you definitely have to look up at him. Jesus, he’s way taller now up this close.

Before any of you says something, the annoying voice of Hamata Aiko says, "You're still an idiot," and he punches you on the side, making you literally fly meters away and hit your head with the wall.

The roaring scream of "HEY!" from several people is the last thing you hear before passing out.

When you next wake up, you encounter the kind smile of Recovery Girl.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling? You took one hell of a punch…"

You groan. "Ugh, don't remind me… I'm going to fucking…"

"Language, dear."

"...kill him to pieces!"

She chuckles amused. "Alright, but first, you should rest. Then kick his butt." Her wink makes you smile in content as you relax in the infirmary bed.

"There are people outside waiting for me to report to them. Want them to get in, or should I tell them to come later?"

"It's okay, they can come in," you nod delicately, not wanting a new headache to deal with.

When Recovery Girl said they, you were expecting your two best friends. Not the Big Three entering the room in a hurry, especially the first one, the blond mountain who enters and walks directly at your side.

"How are you, Coldie?" Bakugou Katsuki asks, his big and calloused hand landing over your small one laying on the bed. You pull up an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but don't comment on it.

"I'm fine, Mountain. My left side still hurts a bit, but I have had it worse."

Bakugou Katsuki growls. Literally, like an angry dog.

“That kid was completely out of line,” protests Todoroki Shouto.

You sigh. “It’s Hamata Aiko. He needs to be the center of attention or he snaps.”

“I’ll snap him in two, give me a minute…” You don’t know if Bakugou it’s being serious or not, but the idea makes you snort as Midoriya Izuku exclaims, “Kacchan!” Todoroki just shakes his head and a small curve of a smile in his face.

“He’s being talked down to by Nezu-sensei. What he did… It's not okay at all. I hope he reconsiders his actions.” Midoriya says, in a stern but worried tone.

“What you and your friends did, on the other hand, was pretty impressive,” Todoroki says as both of his classmates nod, Midoriya more enthusiastically.

“I have never seen Kacchan so taken aback!”

“Shut up, nerd!”

“You were smart and fast and careful with all your moves. You took into consideration how different Kacchan was physically compared to you and you brought that to your own advantage! It was the true thinking of a hero in a dare situation! We were all impressed!” Midoriya rambles, his eyes shining now in true awe.

“Not to mention how in sync you and your friends were. I never expected being gripped like that by arms and legs functioning like ropes. It was funny, and smart,” Todoroki also comments while Midoriya nods in agreement.

You feel the tears in your eyes itchy, so you look down in shyness and smile.

“I… I just looked. Midoriya-senpai was on the other side of the gym, being held back by students so I knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything,” you look elsewhere but them, which is the window next to your bed, “and then I looked how Todoroki-senpai and Bakugou-senpai kept being close to each other, clearly looking for each others back, so I thought that the best option was to try and separate them. By looking at Todoroki-senpai using his quirk, I knew he was avoiding close contact combat, so I guessed that was his weakness. At least if you take him by surprise. So, I knew my friends were gonna be able to catch him. Me, on the other hand, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I just knew I was gonna give my all to win.”

You finish shrugging, taking a deep breath to finally get the courage to look in the way the Big Three are standing.

They all look at you in complete amazement, pleased smiles on their faces.

“Another nerd alert,” Bakugou comments and Todoroki laughs.

Midoriya looks in reprimand in Bakugou’s direction, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, that nerd took you down very easily, without counting the times I also took you down…”

Todoroki then passes an arm around Midoriya’s shoulder in clear partnership as he prepares to pester Bakugou.

“There’s the fact that she is younger than you, Kacchan…” You think Hero Shoto has a death wish.

“I will blow both of your heads off,” Bakugou responds in a growl, pops already sounding from his hands. Both of his classmates snort in amusement.

Oh, yep, they all have a death wish.

“Oh! That reminds me…” Midoriya suddenly changes the subject, “Your Quirk.”

His eyes open wide and look at you in expectation. You tilt your head to the side a bit confused as you put your palm up and then make sparks of blue and white pop as the temperature around you gets colder.

“It’s a lot like yours, Kacchan, but…”

“Cold. Your explosions are cold.” Todoroki says, directing his hand from his cold side closer to your palm so he can feel the sparks.

“Did they discover how it’s produced?” Bakugou asks, looking very serious in your direction. But he isn’t angry, he’s just observing.

You shake your head. “They said it’s a composition of two or more chemicals, but they still can’t find which ones create this type of reaction.”

“That is a very important thing to know. I would investigate a bit if I were you. Knowing your Quirk to the fullest, even the small things, helps you be aware of the possible weaknesses and advantages you can have. That way you can be prepared at all times.” The professional tone in Bakugou’s voice leaves you mesmerized. He is… good. What he’s saying is so true, you haven’t actually thought about it.

“But, the doctors…”

“Doctors sometimes know shit.”

Midoriya physically slaps his own forehead while saying, “Kacchan..”

“He can’t help it. He’s an ass.” Todoroki snorts.

Bakugou decides to ignore them, not before stabbing them with his glare.

“What I’m fucking trying to fucking say,” you laugh at his foul mouth. He smiles a bit in your direction, “is that go beyond. You take the initiative to learn. Don’t wait for the teachers or doctors to tell you who you are.”

You can’t believe the Bakugou Katsuki is actually being nice and giving advice to you.

“You know who you are… Fucking number one, ain’t ya?” You nod smiling as he extends his hand closed in a fist so you can bump yours with his.

Midoriya’s big and proud smile makes you shy. And it's funny when he exclaims, “Plus ultra!”

Everyone laughs.

And, boy… Did you go plus ultra.

a.n; this will have a part two. 😉💥♥️❄️

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hqbaby · 8 days

Text

nine — whatcha reading?

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.2k content. profanity, mentions of injury, descriptions of sex, horny thoughts

Satoru is the perfect boyfriend. He’s romantic and sappy in all the best ways. He’ll show up for surprise dates and wait outside classrooms to hand you a cup of coffee. He’ll give you flowers “just because,” boxes of donuts, teddy bears, bracelets—”just because.” He’ll stay up to keep you company while you work on your papers. He’ll be there for you, anytime, anywhere, just for you.

Satoru is the perfect boyfriend. He’s also ridiculously good at lying about it.

“She’s not here.”

Satoru starts as Kimi’s voice drifts in behind him. He turns to look at her with that quintessentially perfect smile.

“What are you talking about?” he asks innocently.

Kimi just looks at him, unperturbed. “She’s not here,” she repeats. “She’s out for a week. Got injured in the middle of her last game.”

Satoru furrows his brows at her, like he has no idea what she’s talking about. “Who?”

She says your name. He pretends to be shocked by the news.

“I know you were there,” she tells him before he can fake a reaction. “Michiko went to watch her girlfriend. She saw you.”

If there’s one thing Kimi is not, it’s a fool. She’s well-aware that Satoru is in fact not over you. She’s under no illusion that he’s in love with her. The only reason why she’s in this situation in the first place is because her friends wouldn’t stop hounding her about being single for too long and Satoru asked her out at just the right time.

This isn’t a relationship built on love. It’s just a way for them both to pass the time.

Satoru scratches the back of his head in guilt. “I wasn’t hiding it or anything,” he tells her. “I just—”

She raises her hand. “It’s fine,” she says. “I don’t really care.”

She turns to walk away, but Satoru catches her shoulder. He slides an arm around her and nuzzles into her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Kimi just hums, handing him her bag as they walk away from the tennis court to the parking lot, and Satoru starts to list all the things he wants to do with her this week. She looks at him, his eyes all bright as he talks about this new coffee shop that Naoya told him about, and she wonders if he’s just pretending like her—or if he’s actually convinced that he’s selling this whole act.

That he wholeheartedly believes he’s somehow tricked her into believing this.

He turns to her when they get in the car. He tilts his head to the side and flashes her a grin.

“I love you,” he says without an ounce of hesitation.

And all at once Kimi realizes that he’s not trying to trick her.

He’s trying to trick himself.

“Can you get the remote?”

“Sure.”

“Can you charge my phone?”

“Sure.”

“Can you make popcorn?”

“Sure.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Sure—what?”

You, Nobara, and Maki burst into laughter as Sukuna gawks at you from the kitchen where he has dutifully started opening the box of popcorn packets you keep on the top shelf (supposedly to limit your access to it and prevent you from eating too much). He drops the box on the counter and proceeds to sulk.

“It’s funny,” you say like you’re trying to convince him. “You know, you don’t have to baby me. It’s just a sprain.”

He quirks a brow at you. “You say that as if you don’t like being babied.”

“Ew,” Nobara says, grimacing. “You’re such a cheesy fake couple.”

“She loves it,” Sukuna says, picking up the popcorn and reading the instructions on the back of the box. “Right, tiger?”

You toss a sock in his general direction. “I’m gonna kick you out.”

He nods, popping the packet into the microwave. “Sure, sure.”

The three of them are in your apartment against your wishes. After your game a few days ago ended with a doctor telling you that you had a sprained ankle—nothing bad, something you could get over in a week or so—they took it upon themselves to act as your primary caretakers. Sukuna has driven you practically everywhere, Nobara has all but carried you to your classes, and Maki has seen to getting you all the food, painkillers, and ice packs that your heart desires.

It’s annoying, having them hover all the time and treat you like an infant, but you have to admit that it hasn’t been all that bad. You don’t think your apartment has seemed this bright since the breakup. So it’s not all bad. Not at all.

“You have to study,” you remind Maki as she leans back into the armchair she and Nobara are sharing. “You should really head back to your dorm. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

She shakes her head. “You need me.”

“I don’t.”

“How are you gonna pee?”

“Oh, I dunno, maybe I’ll do this thing called walking?”

Maki glares at you and shoves Nobara as the other girl attempts to take over more space on the chair. “You have to rest,” she tells you. “The doctor said so.”

“She actually said that it’s good for me to walk a little,” you say, frowning as your friend attempts to become one with the chair. “Please. I’d feel terrible if you started flunking your classes because of me.”

“I can study here,” she says stubbornly.

“You’ve done enough,” you say. You look at Nobara. “You need to do your laundry. You can’t keep wearing the same jeans forever.”

She sticks her tongue out at you. “You can’t make me leave, bitch.”

Sukuna walks into the room now with a bowl of popcorn. He offers some to your friends, allowing them to take handfuls, before he settles on the floor beside the couch you’re on. He holds the bowl out to give you easy access.

“I can stay with her for the night,” he tells your friends. “And she’s right. The doctor did say moving around would be good for her.”

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief at someone actually listening to you for once. You turn back to your friends. “Don’t make me beg.”

Nobara looks over at Sukuna with the same scrutinizing gaze she always looks at him with. She has to admit that she doesn’t wholly hate the guy as much anymore, not with how helpful he’s been these past few days. Despite their differences, they do have a common ground: You.

“You won’t abandon her for a booty call?” she asks.

Sukuna nods. He picks up a piece of popcorn that you dropped on the floor and sets it aside to throw out later. “I got this,” he reassures her. “You guys should go rest.”

Nobara turns to Maki. They share a look that you can only describe as uncertain but relenting. She looks back at Sukuna. “Fine.”

After much stalling, the two girls eventually find their way out of your apartment, calling their goodbyes and promising to see you the next day behind them before Sukuna waves a final time and closes the door. He leans on the wall and slides down to his knees as he exhales loudly, keeping his eyes on you.

“Why do they love you so much?” he asks. “What kind of spell have you placed on them?”

You chuckle. “I’d give my heart to either of them if they needed it.”

Sukuna rolls his head to the side and smirks. “What if I needed it?”

You pretend to mull over the question, chewing at a bit of popcorn as you do. “I dunno,” you say. “Depends on the situation.”

“You’re so mean to me,” he whines. “I’ve known you longer than they have.”

“Tough luck, bud,” you tell him. “It’s girl code.”

He gets up and walks over to you to flick your forehead. “Mean,” he says, smiling down at you. “Do you need anything else?”

You look over at the pool of supplies that Maki has gathered on the coffee table beside you. “A pile of cash, if you have it.”

“Sorry, I’m all out.”

“That’s too bad.”

Sukuna nods and ruffles your hair. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he tells you. Then, with a warning, “Don’t get up while I’m not here.”

“Bossy,” you say teasingly.

He wags a finger at you. “I’m serious. Be good.”

You flash him a self-satisfied grin. “Yes, daddy.”

“Ew.” He pretends to gag as he walks away. “I’m telling your mom that her daughter is a freak.”

You watch as he disappears into the bathroom. When the door closes behind him, you stretch out on the couch and reach for one of the books Nobara left you. It’s one of those trashy romance novels that she insists she only reads for entertainment but manages to go on a whole rant about when you ask her about them.

This particular book has been tame for the most part, a few chaste kisses from the lead characters, but nothing as wild as the ones Nobara often tells you about. You’ve only just started to believe that maybe it isn’t that kind of book when one character starts to undress another. Then they’re touching. Then the guy slips his hand between the girl’s legs. Then there’s a squelch, a moan, a cock.

Before you know it, you’re reading an absolutely filthy sex scene, complete with sighs, with groans, with thrusting. At some point, there’s a shift into a position you haven’t even considered humanly possible, and yet here it is, all written out for you to read as you feel your face heat up at the obscenity of it all.

You’re so engrossed in the book that you don’t realize Sukuna’s already stepped out of the bathroom and that he’s been watching you flip through pages with the most focused expression on your face for the past few minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

You practically hurl the book across the room. “Holy shit!” you exclaim, clutching a hand to your chest. “Announce yourself next time!”

He cackles as you will your heart to stop beating so fast. “You’re too easy to startle.”

You open your mouth, about to shoot back some kind of annoyed response, but the words die in your mouth when your eyes finally focus on Sukuna.

He’s leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile on his lips. Nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact that the only thing he has on is the thin towel wrapped around his waist.

From your place on the couch, you take in his entire appearance. Wet hair and bare skin. His shoulders bulge, thick muscles still slightly damp with water. The tattoos that run across his arms and chest are dark against his fair skin, the patterns curling over his naked torso. His abs are firm, protruding on his stomach like they’re made of stone. And then there’s the trail of hair tracing from his navel down to—

“Like what you see?”

You quickly pull your gaze back up to his face. You swallow.

“Fuck you,” you is all you can say before your best friend bursts into laughter again and heads into your bedroom.

You sit with yourself for a moment, trying to understand what just happened. All you can think is, Was he always this fucking hot?

Sukuna reemerges from your bedroom. He’s dressed now, wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants. He dries his hair and walks towards you.

You do your best to avoid his eyes.

“Wanna go to bed?” he asks, clearly oblivious to the internal crisis you’re having right now.

You toy with the hem of your shirt and clear your throat in an attempt to ground you back in reality. You can’t start thinking that your best friend is hot right now. That’s just wrong.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you say, swinging your legs off the side of the couch. You’re about to get up when Sukuna crouches down to slide his arm beneath yours. You jerk away from his touch.

He frowns, pulling back at your sudden reaction. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Does your ankle hurt?”

You don’t even get to answer before he’s kneeling down in front of you, his hand going to inspect your ankle. You swear your skin is going to melt at just how hot his touch feels.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, slightly panicked as you shift your leg out of his grasp. “I can—I can walk by myself.”

He looks up at you and you think your heart might just explode.

There he is, kneeling between your legs, looking at you with concern, unaware of the fact that there’s a steady warmth growing between your thighs.

“Are you sure?” he asks, but you’re already getting up on wobbly legs and shuffling over to your bedroom. He catches up to you, because of course he does, and holds his arm out for you to hold. Exasperated, he says, “Just let me help you, tiger.”

Relenting, you grab onto him and let him lead you to the room. When you get to the door, you grab it, holding onto it for support as you use it to slowly push him out. “Okay, I can do it from here,” you tell him through the crack between the door and the frame. You offer him an easy smile. “Goodnight.”

Sukuna looks more than puzzled, but he just nods and waves. “Night.”

He watches as you firmly close the bedroom door, leaving him to stand in front of it, wondering, What the fuck just happened?

notes. reader reading smut is me like sometimes i just don’t know what to do with myself but i also can’t stop reading 😩 how are we feeling after this chapter sukuna girlies??

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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strwbrryeyes · 19 days

Note

nini… think about… iwaizumi meeting a girl who’s surprisingly stronger than him. she can lift that man with no problem. she has a sleeper build or something !! :3

𖦹°｡⋆ Friendly competition (iwaizumi x reader)

⟡ cw: fluff, competitive fem!reader and iwaizumi, taken place at a gym, idk i'm bad with tags, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: omg requests are finally rolling out after ages! also i rewrote this and proofread it countless times so if there's anything wrong i'm sorry im just DUMB

Iwaizumi Hajime has always loved going to the gym, which is evident as he goes there almost every day. Not only is he very fit and built, but his health is also in excellent condition as he knows that taking care of himself and his inner workings is just as important (actually, more important) as keeping up his outward appearance. It also helps that he is an athletic trainer, so he always has a way to remind himself to stay in shape as he would always nag his athletes about the importance of being fit while not overworking themselves. Overall, Iwaizumi has always found comfort and importance in working out and keeping everything about himself in good shape.

So that’s when he saw you about to lift an alarmingly heavy weight, he walked towards you as worry took over him but then stopped in surprise when he saw you lift up the weight over your head with complete ease and no sign of struggle.

“Impressive…” Iwaizumi mutters out as he watches you place the weight back down in front of you.

As he catches your attention, you turn around and smile at him with pride. “Thank you! I’ve been working towards that for weeks now!” You happily tell him while wiping the sweat off of your forehead. Iwaizumi continues to watch you as you walk towards the rest of your stuff in pure amazement and curiosity before striking up another conversation.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone like you lift like that,” Iwaizumi starts as he leans over the piece of equipment in front of him “What’s your secret?”

With a chuckle and a light flush creeping up your face, you look at him with a teasing kind of look. “Not much really, just a lot of hard work and a lot of trial and errors of multiple techniques!” you exclaim to him as you flex your arm further surprising the man by how well-built you actually are.

“Why don’t you show me a few tricks then?” he quirks his brow playfully as he steps closer to you as if he’s proposing a challenge.

“I don’t see why not,” you take one step closer, looking up at him “but I’m warning you, you might get yourself into more than you can handle.” playfully teasing him, you smirk at Iwaizumi causing him to drop his jaw in shock a bit before he lets out a low chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.” Iwaizumi finally says before sticking out his hand for a handshake “I’m Iwaizumi, and I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.”

“I’m [name], and you can bet I’ll be here tomorrow to make you beg for mercy.” You take his hand in yours and shake it as if he had just made a deal with the devil.

What the both of you don’t know is that this handshake would be the one that would change your lives for the better.

As the next day rolls around, you both stay true to your words and show up to the gym around the same time. You both share techniques with each other and become friends easily as you both push each other to new limits, sparking a playful rivalry that leads into more sessions at the gym.

With each day at the gym together, you both challenge each other to multiple tests of strength and endurance that even catch the attention of all the other regulars to the point where they all surround you during every small competition you guys had. Even with all of the eyes looking at you two, you and Iwaizumi only see each other with no care for everyone else. Was it just that you wanted to one up each other? Or was it more than that? Neither of you were too sure yet, but you did know that you never wanted your time together to come to an end.

Days and weeks pass by, and you and Iwaizumi still find ways to work harder and to encourage each other to go further than you have been in the gym, but now you’ve come to realize you have challenged each other to almost everything one could think of.

With this realization, you walk up to Iwaizumi who is doing his post-workout stretching and sit across from him.

“Well, Iwa-chan~” you say in a mocking tone, knowing that nickname annoys him ever since his friend, Oikawa, came to work out with you both a couple of times, which causes him to roll his eyes, “Looks like I’ve taught you everything I know and you still fall behind a bit.” you smirk as he whips his head up to look at you.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” he spits out before standing up.

Your smirk turns into a full-on shit-eating grin as you look up at him from the floor “How is it a lie? I’m still stronger than you.” You tease him, making his eyebrow twitch.

“You are not stronger than me.” He chuckles, only a bit offended before turning around to grab his water bottle as an idea pops into your head.

As Iwaizumi drinks his water, you slowly and quietly stand up and walk behind him. Once directly behind him, you snake your arms around his waist and lift him up, causing a high-pitched yelp to come from his mouth which causes you to burst out laughing and accidentally drop him on the ground, making him lose his balance which leads to him falling over.

After a few more seconds of your non-stop laughing to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut with tears poking out from the corners, Iwaizumi takes this as an opportunity to take revenge and scoop you up bridal style in his own two arms.

This action makes you stop laughing as shock takes over you with your face turning a bright shade of pink, Iwaizumi smiles at you.

“You may be able to lift me a few inches off the ground, but that doesn’t mean anything as long as I’m able to lift you,” He says in a voice that's soft and soothing to your ears before placing you back on the ground slowly.

You try to gain your composure as fast as you can but only fail when he takes your hand in his and looks directly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from him before. A look of adoration.

“Let me take you to dinner after we leave?” Iwaizumi asks you, with hope in his voice, and after a few moments of shock and silence, you lightly punch his chest before nuzzling your face into it so he wouldn’t see your face, which was still the pinkest shade possible.

“Okay, but I get to choose where we eat.” Finally, you mutter out an answer into his chest, and all he can do is hug you while lifting you up into the air once again.

With that, you and Iwaizumi go out to dinner and talk and laugh before you both decide to make it official.

After dinner, you walk hand in hand back to your place, happy that you’ve found each other, but of course, you can’t let this be too sappy of a moment, so you let go of his hand and step out in front of him.

“So! What’s it like having a girlfriend that’s stronger than you?” You tease him with your signature grin, making him roll his eyes before pulling you into his arms.

“It feels pretty great actually.” Iwaizumi mumbles out, causing you to cheer and pump your fist into the air as he finally admitsthat you’re stronger than him.

You’re only stronger than him by a bit, but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to see you smile your goofy smile more.

#iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reder fluff #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi

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writing-mlm · 1 month

Note

If you don't mind me asking

Could you please write Wally west x reader? (If not that's alright!)

I absolutely love your writing and there's so little Wally west x m!reader fanfics

Hope you have a lovely rest of your Day/Night or Evening :)

Everyone but you

Summary: Wally notices the newest addition and his quirks, quickly finding himself attached to his hip. Pretty soon, they're attached at the hips and his best friend can't seem to notice. Or After joining The Team, Wally worms his little redhead into your life. Pairing: Wally West x male reader WC: 12.2k TW: religious trauma, implied sex, references to child neglect, lowkey yj slander if you squint a/n: i was close to making this longer but Im p sure tumblr has a word limit LOL

Wally saw the little things, how could he not? Life was in slow motion for him, he’d be the worst speedster to ever exist if he didn’t naturally have faster reaction times.

They’re practical, both off and on the field. Off the field, he notices when his food is about to drop onto the floor when a bird is about to swoop in and steal his food— it's good for saving his food. And you.

He remembers when you joined the team. One month after The Team was officially recognized by the JLA Bruce and Diana had shown up with you nestled in between the two of them. You were almost bored, twiddling with your phone as he could faintly hear the music through your chunky headphones as Batman explained you were the ward of Doctor Light— not the bad guy, the woman with the super cool light powers.

He’d made a stupid joke, calling you Nurse Light, not thinking you’d actually hear him over but for a millisecond he saw you smile. And a millisecond was enough for him.

The others weren’t too sure about a new team member, especially after learning that your powers were a lot like Enchantress. Powers via possession weren’t all that popular, go figure. Especially when you hardly ever spoke to anyone but your reflection.

Needless to say, your introduction to The Team was rough, especially after your first mission. It was difficult but extremely successful and everyone was going to celebrate by having a pizza party. Wally had picked them up in a minute flat, it would’ve taken less time but he had to pay in cash and when he returned everyone was still on their way to the kitchen.

But as everyone dipped inside the kitchen, you kept walking.

“You don’t want pizza?” M'gann asks, the first to notice your absence. You don’t look back as you’re giving her a thumbs down that the others frown at.

“I’ll save him a slice,” Wally was the only one to notice how your hand kept twitching as you were walking away. Rightfully assuming that you didn’t want the others to know about the quirk, he hurriedly sets out the pizza boxes on the large kitchen island.

While the others are talking over their pizza, he grabs a plate and guesses what you’d like. He ends up on one extra cheese and one pepperoni; he could always go back if you wanted more or anything else. He also grabs one of the drinks and makes his way to the dorms of Mount Justice.

Knocking once and then twice, his eyes flicker about. Unsure of what to do, he leans closer to the door.

“Ah, hey, (Y/n). It’s me, Wally, I brought you pizza.” He says, just below a shout. The door opens before he walks away and you stand there, a little frazzled. He catches several things in the span of a second. He sees how your breathing evens out, how you try and block his view of the mess you made, and how your eyes twitch. They do that whenever the woman possessing you, whom you’ve only referred to as Sculk, talks to you.

“Thank you,” But you don’t move to grab the plate until he hands it to you. He catches that the tips of your nails are suddenly sharp and a deep black color.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like but—“ He trails, his eyes finding yours again.

“It’s fine,” You nod, the smile on your face short and fleeting. “But you should return to the others. They’d like your presence more.” He doesn’t take it in a serious manner. Truly he doesn’t think you meant harm by your words, he understands that now simply isn’t a good time and you need to be alone.

“Okay, if you want more, just send down a message.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s in the elevator. You don’t look to see him, favoring having your door closed again.

—

Sculk, as no one has pointed out, is named from Minecraft, and appears to you as a bioluminescent blue ghost, covered in a fog of black smoke. She’s nice enough, aside from the constant chatter you have to endure from her. But the trade-off is good, you never get peace and quiet but you get super cool powers.

Like June Moone, finding Sculk was nothing short of an accident. You’d been young, inside the Appalachian Mountains when you stumbled across a cool-looking rock. It was black with crackles of an unnatural blue, seemingly carved to look like a fallen leaf. It wasn’t until you had returned to the car that it broke, releasing Sculk into you.

While it was cool that you had powers and spoke to someone only you could see, your family didn’t see it as such. Small-town churchgoers didn’t seem to take to the idea of possession and after almost two months you’d run away.

Self-isolation was tough, but was harder was introducing yourself back into groups of people.

“Down for a game?” Dick asks, waving a spare controller as you exit the kitchen, digging into a bowl of fruit covered in chocolate syrup. Looking at the game, you see it’s some first-person shooter game, and then down at your bowl. Your fingers are already covered in the sauce and sticking together.

“No.” You’ve never played that game, and besides, you wouldn’t want chocolate syrup on their belongings. Dick frowns at your bluntness while Conner shares a look with Artemis.

“You can just watch,” Wally offers, grabbing the remote Dick grabbed. “Or watch me.” He adds with a wink. Only his eyes catch your lips turning up into a smile before you look off for a moment.

He takes that as a win, even if you once again say no before disappearing.

—

It takes about three months after that incident for you to join the others on their game nights. That night in particular was another game you’d never seen before; you were more acquainted with board games and whatever games were on a Gameboy you found in the woods.

Admittedly, you’re frustrated that you don’t understand the controls, that your grip isn’t quite right on the controller, and that you don’t even know what’s happening. It’s a multiplayer game with one point of view, you’d picked some random character that made Wally laugh. Some blue animal with a pair of red shoes. He picked a small pink thing.

“You’re worse than M’gann!” Dick laughs, nudging your shoulder as you’re the first to die again. Everyone else laughs (was it at you or with Dick?) and you swallow your words, staring at your controller. Your eyes burn and you aren’t sure why.

It’s a learning curve, kid. Sculk reassures you and you feel her petting your head.

You felt like shit whenever you denied the others, you wanted to hang out with them. It seemed like fun. But you clearly weren’t the best company. The others are doing good, encouraging each other while also doing their best to win. They’re cheering and laughing, having side conversations in between their shouting and groaning. No one seems to notice your lack of mental attendance, you suppose it’s hardly different from when you’re there or not.

Fuck it, you should’ve just said no again. Saved yourself the embarrassment.

When you’re about to get up and leave, Wally places a hand on your arm. It was risky, in his eyes. No one has actually come into physical contact with you, as strange as it sounds.

“Pick Mewtwo next time,” Wally whispers when his character dies for the second time. “I’ll teach you the controls, just hang on.” Nodding, you watch as he throws himself off the platform and the others don’t question it. One less person to fight against. With his character officially dead, he turns his attention onto you.

“You gotta hold it like this,” He grins but doesn’t laugh at the way you hold the controller. “For max efficiency, most people hold it like this.” Following the way he’s holding it, he nods and sets his controller down. He then tells you the basic moves you need to know, explaining that for now, you need to focus on getting a grip on that before he moves on special moves.

It takes maybe four rounds before you finally win.

“You did it!” You grin when you realize that Mewtwo is the final one on the platform. Wally will never admit that he had spent the entire game making sure you didn’t die, he swears that to himself when he sees you smiling for more than a split second. How you’re much more relaxed than before, enjoying the company of everyone as they congratulate you.

The games continue, you play several others but your favorite is the volleyball game. You won that one all by yourself. Nearly undefeated, the others were fighting each other to be on your team.

“You should join us more often,” Artemis tells you as everyone decides it’s time to go to bed. Dick is in charge of putting everything up since apparently, everyone else breaks the consoles when they do. Hell, Conner had broken the controller ten times throughout the night.

“I know, right!” Wally grins, slinging his arm over her shoulder. She shrugs him off but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Perhaps,” You nod. “Peaceful night, all.” And then you’re gone.

When Wally is inside of his room he sees something on his pillow.

Thank you for teaching me how to properly play, Wallace.

-(Y/n)

He grins at the note and sets it on his desk before he pauses.

How the fuck did you put that there?

—

Admittedly, you’re much closer with Wally than the others on The Team. For whatever reason, they don’t seem to like you. Perhaps it’s a natural thing, they’ve instinctively kept their distance. Your nature scares them, perhaps. Maybe Wally’s instincts weren’t as tuned in as the others, perhaps he hadn’t looked the gifted horse in the mouth.

In truth, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of their group. But you’d missed a key part of growing up, without much time spent around others, perhaps… you came off strange. You’ve read about it before, stunted emotional growth. The inability to interact with peers.

Not with Wally, though.

He basks in the fact that he’s the only one you’ve willingly allowed into your room. It’s dark, just as your room was in the cabin somewhere in the middle of the woods. For some reason, he just knows that you hate the large overhanging lights, how you prefer the natural light of the sun but living inside of the mountain doesn’t allow for that.

Instead, his eyes flicker to the lamps around your room. Placed in odd spots that lit up the room wonderfully when they were on.

“Dick wants everyone downstairs,” He struggles to tell you, hating the fact that he’s ripping you away from your solace. That you’d been engrossed in creating a paper mache sun and moon. You look up at him, glue dripping from your hands. “There’s a mission request from Batman.” He explains when he sees that look on your face. It’s hard to explain but he knows your expressions by now.

Call him an expert or whatever, it’s just a little something- something he can do that no one else can. Not that he’s bragging.

“Thank you, Wallace.” Standing up, he watches as you use your magic to clean the mess from your hands.

“What’re you making?” He asks as the two of you walk out of your room.

“I heard that Raquel’s birthday was coming up,” You explain, picking at the skin around your nails. “Everyone likes the sun and moon, no?” It’s not intentional, at least Wally doesn’t think it is. But you’re admitting, in your own way, that you don't know much about her and you’d like to. And if they permit, the others, too.

“They’re pretty important,” He agrees, smiling over at you. “Just so you know, my birthday is January 16th and I love food.”

“Noted.”

—

Raquel’s birthday had come and passed, she was surprised by your gift but accepted it all the same. You’d given it to her when the party was over, feeling there was no proper time to give it. No one else had, so you weren’t sure what to do.

For Wally’s birthday only two weeks later, he’d been the opposite. He had a small table dedicated purely to gifts, his eyes shining brightly when he had seen a neatly wrapped box in your arms.

He’d wanted a simple cake, but it was weird. A pink cake with a white border and rainbow sprinkles everywhere, on the edge was a large dollop of green icing with what you assumed were two arms and legs, and the black icing used for the eyes was sliding off. Behind the small creature was the word Forg. He does know it’s spelled frog, right?

That’s the joke. Sculk tells you as you stare at the word with disbelief. Oh, that makes more sense. It’s funny, now that you think about it. Such a silly little icing frog.

Basking in the attention on himself, Wally dances along to the Happy Birthday song. Although he almost missed it, he caught how you watched him with a smile that lasted longer than a millisecond.

When it’s time for him to open his gift, he loves everything. The food, the gear, and the tech. For some reason, he’d waited to open yours last and for some stranger reason, you were nervous. Anxious, even.

“What is it?” He grins, ripping open the paper. Glancing at you, he winks and opens the box. Staring for a moment you worry you’ve done the wrong thing. His reaction is minimal compared to what it had been for the others. “Holy shit!” He gasps, pulling out a set of plates. There are five there and he only looks at the top one; designed to look like an orange slice. He then pulls out the plates that could also be bowls, and then the bowls.

“Where’d you find these?” He grins, looking through all of the designs. He especially loves the silly little smiley faces on some of the items.

“I made them,” You correct. “There’s more inside.” Digging inside, he pulls out various utensils. Each of them has their own design, like the alligator knife and the shell spoon. He thinks he likes the Nunchuck chopsticks the most, though.

“You know me so well!” He gushes, pulling you into a tight hug. For a moment, you freeze. Your whole body tenses but there’s something about the hug, something about him that makes you relax and hug him back.

Oh no. Sculk mutters but doesn’t explain further.

—

The moment Wally knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you like him back is when there’s a fan flirting with him. The two of you were walking together, forced to pair up by Dick and look around for possible leads. The girl, who Wally would admit is his type (everyone is if he’s being honest), clearly meant no harm by the flirting. If he was her, he’d definitely flirt with himself, too.

But all he could focus on was the fact that your nostrils flared, you looked her up and down, picking apart her appearance in your head before looking away, and then looked at Wally, trying to see if he was showing signs that he was interested.

A part of him wanted to entertain her; just to see your reaction but he didn’t. He was happy enough that you were jealous.

“I’m sorry,” Wally stops the girl mid-sentence. “It was nice meeting you but we need to get back to work.” Testing the waters, Wally places his arm across your shoulder. When you don’t move, he takes that as another win.

“I’m sorry,” The girl tucks her hair behind her ear, shrinking away. “Have a good day, Kid Flash, Ward.” Nodding, you watch as she leaves before looking at Wally.

“I don’t like her,” He says and your face nearly lights up before you relax again.

“How’d you know I was going to ask?” You ask, walking ahead to continue your search. He, of course, keeps pace and mindlessly plays with the ends of your hair.

“There’s someone better for me.” He grins, awfully close to your face. You frown, that wasn’t your question. Sculk groans loudly and you roll your eyes.

The kid is flirting fuck the question, kid!

She screams into your ear and you wince. She’s never really yelled that loud before. Is he, though? She groans louder at that thought and you feel the wind smack your head.

Wally, feeling the harsh breeze, looks behind the two of you.

“It was Sculk,” You admit and he raises his eyebrows.

“How can she use her powers without you?” He asks. “I know June Moone has control until she says Enchantress, but you don’t?” Nodding, the two of you turn a corner.

“We’re partners.” Sculk awes inside your head. “She gets to experience human life, I get powers.”

“Seems a little unfair,” He admits. “Couldn’t she just take over?”

“She can,” Nodding, you look down at your hand and flex it. It feels as if she’s tugging your hand around, moving each of your fingers. “But she’s not like the witch. She takes over if it’s needed or if I use too much at once and need her rapid assistance.”

“Like that time with the pizza…” The black nails, that’s probably the curse of her true form. He sorta hopes it’s the curse.

“Yes. Her powers are a curse that I have built up a solid immunity to, but sometimes it’s too much for me.” Your hands flicker with the reddish-purple magic Wally has grown accustomed to seeing. In the magic, he sees a bird forming and watches as it flies away when it’s fully formed.

“And if she takes over completely?” Wally looks back at you, worried about your answer. As cool as the idea seemed, he knows he’d hate it if he had to fight a possessed you. If Sculk decides she is done with Earth and tries to end it like Enchantress had done before.

“I wouldn’t know,” You admit as if it’s nothing. “Full control means the other goes dormant until the other sees fit.” It doesn’t ease his fears but he lets it go.

The main focus for him is that he’s finally gotten more than a sentence out of you.

Score!

—

“He’s so in love with me,” Wally grins to Dick, dragging out the ‘so’ while he’s working on his science homework. They’re both in Dick’s room, Wally laying on Dick’s bed while Dick is working on his laptop. Something about detective work for a case he’s working; boring with a capital B-O-R-I-N-and-G.

“Is he?” Dick asks, sparing Wally a glance. As the team leader Dick swears that he knows his teammates pretty well and you… he seriously doubts Wally is your type. He’s loud, outspoken, adventurous, and quite frankly, Dick couldn’t imagine the two of you together. When he tried to picture you dating someone, he imagined that you’d end up with someone like his father. Not his best friend.

“He told me ‘Don’t eat so fast, you’ll choke’! That’s an admission of love,” Despite hearing his own words out loud, Wally stands by his statement. Huffing, Wally officially puts his homework on pause. “He made me a full kitchen set for my birthday. He learned all the characters of Mario Kart for me. Who does he like being paired with? Me. I get him, he gets me,” He says, his voice a little smaller in the end. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for Dick and the others to understand that you’re not some type of robot or a time traveler from 1703.

It’s been a year since Wally was sure of your feelings, a year of him hopelessly falling deeper for you. A year of pure torture, honestly!

“I just want to make sure you aren’t reading into this,” Dick sighs, facing his friend. His expression is sullen, hurt that Dick doesn’t believe him. Believe that you’re capable of loving him. “I mean, how often do you talk to him? Does he talk back? More than a one-word response, I mean.” He rolls his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the tension building in them.

“Oh my god,” Wally sighs as if he’s had this conversation a million times. “Is being quiet suddenly a crime? And you never took the time to talk to him, I did. He’s very funny,” He says that last part the same way a child tells an adult that they know a secret that the adult doesn’t know.

Dick goes to talk but someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” He sighs, their conversation officially put on pause. The door opens and Dick nearly swears you’d been listening through the vents because you stand at the door.

“Hello, Robin, Wallace,” You call, your eyes cast towards the floor. “Can we talk, in private?” Wally nods, closes his notebook, and follows after you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as the two of you enter your room. It’s the same dark that it always is, but it’s a mess. Things are thrown about and there are burn marks surrounding an outline of someone kneeling. The door closes and you stand in front of him, eyes bleary and lip quivering.

“I read that men shouldn’t cry,” You tell him, unable to look at him as you speak. “Sculk tells me that I should cry.” You add, barely catching Wally’s eyebrows furrow.

“I cry,” He offers, guiding you to your bed. “Superman cries! Batman cries… plenty of men cry. Why are you…?” Sitting down, you scoot back until your entire body is on the bed.

“I found out my parents died.” As you say it, your face twists and you scrub your face. He frowns and hugs you. It doesn’t take more than a second before you hug back. “I hated them, they abandoned me. Called me names, vicious and foul. I shouldn’t be crying,” You ramble into his shoulder, your head shaking and his shirt getting damp.

“It’s normal to mourn,” He coos, rubbing your back. “You loved them, even if it was a long time ago.”

“I do not wish to feel this,” You admit and he nods. In truth, he doesn’t know how to help you. But he tried his best.

“When my grandfather died I hadn’t been on the best terms with him. He’d… I found out that he ran a… blog of sorts that spoke about his hatred for heroes. For the speedsters. He called us names and I broke. I stopped talking to him and yelled at him whenever he tried to talk to me. The man I knew had died that day. But when he died for real,” He sighs, staring at the wall. “I knew there was no going back,” His voice goes soft as he tries not to think about him too much.

“They should’ve loved me, he should’ve loved you.” You mutter, removing yourself from the hug. “Why weren’t they capable of loving us?” Frowning, he shrugs and wipes the tears from your face.

“It’s better that we don’t know. But you are capable of being loved. Sculk loves you, and Dr. Light loves you. I like you, Artemis likes you—“

“I doubt that,” You huff, fixing yourself before looking around your room. “I apologize for my appearance and the mess of my room. The sudden despondency caused my actions to become rash,” With a spell, your room fixed itself.

“You should see my room,” He laughs, nudging your shoulder with his. Staring at him, you smile and look away. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Not that you thought he would’ve.

“Thank you, Wallace. You’re a great company, your grandfather was wrong about whatever he had talked out his ass about.”

“You cursed?” He belts out a laugh and you raise an eyebrow, snickering at his reaction.

“I am grown enough to curse, Wallace! This isn’t the Regency era!” Never did you think you’d have to defend the fact that you cursed. And yet, here you are.

“Isn’t it?” He grins. “If you had a British accent, you’d make the perfect actor for Bridgerton!”

“What is that?”

Wally, having deemed that a crime, insists that you have to watch the show. He drags you out of your room and into his. It isn’t as messy as he had led you to believe. Some thrown-around items, an unnamed bed, and empty bottles on the desk. But he quickly fixed the bed and grabbed his laptop before placing it in between his two pillows.

“Wall or open?” He asks, pointing to the two available spots. You look between them before pointing to the wall. “Hurry! You gotta watch the show!” Tugging you over to his bed, you climb in and sit with your legs crossed. He doesn’t comment on it, aside from saying your back is going to hurt if you stay like that and he lays next to you.

“What is this show about?” You ask, watching as he logs into his Netflix account.

“Uhhh,” He drags out as he’s finding the show. “During the Regency era in England, eight close-knit siblings of the powerful Bridgerton family attempt to find love.” He reads. “Season one is about one of the daughters, Daphne.” He further explains as the show starts.

Three episodes in, you somehow found yourself on your stomach, unable to look away from the screen. You’re completely engrossed in the show, the two of you missing the call for dinner as you’re on the final two episodes.

“I am Daphne and you are Simon,” You whisper as they have sex during their honeymoon. He glances over at you, a smile spreading across his face.

“I’m Daphne,” He shakes his head, his voice an equal whisper.

“Ah, yes,” Grinning, you look at him. “The red hair, my mistake.” Bowing his head into his arm, he snorts and leans into you.

“So we’re married?” He asks.

“Dating, perhaps,” You settle on. Play it cool, he tells himself and nods, skipping the rest of the sex scene. “Dating, totally?”

“Dating, officially.” You agree.

Suck it, Dick. Haha, get it?

—

Surely, Wally would be the one with dating experience, you tell yourself as you prepare for your first-ever date. He’d given vague details about the date, telling you to wear something comfortable but to also bring a sweater because he expects the date to last well into the night.

What even is comfortable dress wear? Wally's comfortable wear is shorts and a graphic design shirt but your comfortable wear is a good button-down and slacks.

Groaning, you settle on jeans and a white shirt. That’ll have to do. Yes. Grabbing a pair of jeans from the depths of your closet, you try to not second guess yourself again.

Tucking and untucking the shirt, you stare at yourself in the mirror.

“Sculk,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the bed. “I do not appreciate this anxiety I am feeling, please take it away.”

“No,” She laughs and you stare at her in the mirror. “This is fun, my baby's first date!” Rolling your eyes, you fix yourself again before smelling your breath. “You’ve brushed ten times. Give your human mouth a rest,” She groans and pulls you towards the door. Clinging to the wall, you feel the metal bending before she nearly tossed you out of the room and to where Wally was waiting at the elevator.

“Nervous?” He grins as you stumble next to him.

“Truly,” You laugh, trying to shake your nerves out. Looking him over, you see that he has a woven basket in his non-dominant hand. Ah, a picnic. The jeans were appropriate.

“Hi to you, too, Sculk.” He adds as the doors open.

“She says hello and that she’ll go dormant soon. Something about privacy,”

Outside, you feel the warm breeze that signals the start of summer and Wally nearly basks in it. Like a plant.

“Get on my back,” He grins, lowering himself in front of you.

“Whatever for?” You ask while climbing on. He stands up and holds onto each of your calves, his mind immediately catching that he’s never noticed your calves are built. Swallowing, he clears his throat and looks back towards you.

“You’ll see! Hold on tight,” Bracing yourself, you feel the wind nearly punching you with how fast he’s moving. In fear of losing an eye, you close your eyes and hide your head behind his. It gets a bit chilly and you can tell he’s crossing the ocean because of the sound of water being hit.

Soon enough, he stops and lets you down. When you open your eyes you find yourself on the shores of a beach with tall rocks and tall trees.

“Google said Anse Source D’Argent is the best beach in the whole world,” He explains, guiding you toward a patch of sand large enough for the blanket he had stuffed into the basket.

“It is lovely,” You agree, looking around. There’s no one around for miles. The sound of the water was damn near hypnotic and you bet you could climb those rocks in less than three seconds.

“And I know that you’ve never been to a beach before… so why not bring you to the best beach ever?” He grins, grabbing your hands to pull you over to the blanket. It’s large enough that the two of you can comfortably lie down and have space for the food and drinks.

“Thank you,” Settling on your knees, your eyes scan over the water. Watching the water roll in and get pulled back into the ocean.

“Wanna swim?” He asks and you hurriedly nod, rushing up and leaving him in your dust. He calls for you, calling you a cheater, and rushes into the water, splashing you in his wake. Diving after him, he laughs at your puffed-out cheeks and barely open eyes. Pulling you deeper into the water, you watch as the fish swim away from the two of you. Surfacing for air, you see Wally do the same, his hair clinging to his face as you’re sure your hair does the same.

“Why do you do that?” He asks, mimicking your puffed-out cheeks and closed eyes.

“What else am I supposed to do?” You ask back and he shakes his head as if to say rookie before showing you. He inhales, his cheeks never puffing out, and then dives back down, looking at you with his eyes open. Copying him, you do as he did and feel the sting in your eyes almost immediately.

After a few seconds, you get used to it and he nods, giving you a thumbs up. Giving one back, the two of you continue swimming.

Sometime later, you’re floating on your back as Wally dives back down for a while. When he comes back up, he carefully places a couple of shells and pebbles on your shirt.

“They reminded me of you,” He grins, the lack of air clear on his face. Lifting your head, you look at the rocks and shells. It’s hard to see them, but you smile all the same. “Let’s go eat, you can look at them on the sand!” He suggests and collects the items again.

On the sand, you’re shaking yourself dry, suddenly realizing that swimming in jeans wasn’t the best idea. Waking Sculk up, you dry yourself off and she goes back to sleep.

Wally is already dry, something about super speed and running laps.

“I love this one,” You tell him, picking up the nearly intact knobbed whelk shell. With various shades of pink and beige on it, you hold up to Wally’s face and grin. “You match!” Rolling his eyes, he grabs a piece of foggy sea glass similar to the color of your eye. When he finds it, he grabs his phone and you watch as he opens his camera, placing the sea glass next to your eye.

“Smile,” He urges and you do, hearing him take at least a dozen pictures, he shows you the ones he deems the best. Doing the same with him, you have him hold the shell to the side of his face and take three pictures. He does something with his phone before he opens up the basket to pull out the food.

The rest of the date was spent with cloud gazing, building sand castles, and talking each other's ears off until you were interrupted by a call from Dick. He frowns but the both of you understand and pack up, quickly heading back to the others.

—

Five months into dating, Wally mentions the idea of you meeting his family. Thanksgiving is coming up and the others agreed to go home and spend time with someone other than the team for a change. Your plans were to go back to your cabin or with Doctor Light for the weekend but…

“Would they like me?” You ask from your spot on his bed. He looks up at you, his face once firmly planted on your chest. “I mean, you’re the only person who enjoys my company thus far. I’d hate to make them uncomfortable,” Sitting up, Wally pulls you up with him and holds your face firmly in his hands.

“I’ve told my family all about you and they’re dying to meet you, smokey!” He explains and the stupid nickname makes your eyes roll. “Besides, we’re pretty serious, right?” Nodding, he nods back. “So why not meet my family?”

“If you’re sure… I don’t see the harm. But I’d need them to approve of it first,”

And that’s how you ended up at the West house the day before Thanksgiving. Dressed in a brown sweater with thin white stripes, a pair of Wally’s baggy jeans, and your dress shoes; you stand next to Wally as he spam rings the bell.

“I think they’ve heard it,” You slowly tell him, lowering his arm.

“You think?” He grins, sliding his arm through your hand until you’re holding his hand. He’s dressed in a simple button-down and jeans, the best you’d get him to wear to the event.

“Wally!” A woman with darker red hair than Wally greets as she opens the door. “And you must be (Y/n),” Nodding, you fumble your hands before extending the hand that Wally wasn’t holding as he chuckles.

“Hello, Mrs. West, thank you for having me.” She smiles and shakes your hand.

“Please, call me Mary. Come on in, it’s chilly out.” Following Wally inside the home you see various pictures of him and his family hanging up. Baby pictures, first day of school, major events like weddings.

“He pooped himself that day,” Barry tells you as you’re staring at a picture of Wally when he was in middle school, holding a science trophy. First place.

“Barry!” Wally groans. “He’s lying,” He tells you and ushers you away as you’re waving at Barry. Barry laughs and heads towards the kitchen where you see Iris.

“That’s Jay and Joan. He was the first Flash,” He whispers as the two of you enter the living room.

“So,” Rudy says from behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to look at Wally’s father. “You’re the boy my son is dating?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. Letting go of Wally’s hand, your nails mess with the thread of your sweater, pulling and picking at it.

“Yes, sir,” You nod, swallowing your fear. With his eyebrows raised, he rubs his mustache. Lord, that’s a big mustache.

Do not focus on his mustache! Sculk shouts.

“You do drugs?”

“No, sir.”

“Drink?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head, feeling your chest tighten and suddenly your heart is in your throat.

“Dad,” Wally almost scolds before his father can ask another question. “How about I show you my old room?” Nodding, you wave to the others and hurriedly follow Wally up to his room.

“I cannot breathe,” You admit once the door closes. “I have never felt this nervous before, perhaps this was a bad idea.” Helping you to the bed, Wally opens the two windows of his old room.

“It’s normal to be nervous,” He reassures you as he sits next to you. “Plus, you’re super powerful! They can’t hurt you,” As he’s speaking, he’s drawing chemical bonds on the back of your hand. Each of their names pops into your head, but it does nothing to take your attention away from your fear.

“I do not wish to harm your family!” You bark, covering your face. “But what if they go astray? Wallace,” Looking at him, he frowns and rubs your back.

“Ask Sculk to go to sleep if you’re worried. How about we stay for an hour if you still want to go and then we can. I promise,” Slowly, you nod.

“I need to use the bathroom, but I’ll be right back, okay?” He stands up and you go to stop him, about to beg him to stay but nod. He smiles softly and slowly kisses you. “Sit and breathe, maybe look at my embarrassing pictures.” He points to a shelf with various pictures and a picture book mixed in with textbooks and comics. Nodding, he pecks your forehead and leaves.

Laying flat on his bed, you hold your hands over your chest. Feeling yourself breathing and your heart stop beating so fast. Once it’s calm enough, you walk over to the window and sit out on the porch roof. Watching as cars drive past and as families greet each other around the block, you frown.

Maybe if you hadn’t picked up the stone that held Sculk, those kids could’ve been you. You could’ve seen your family again. You could’ve grown up being loved by your family, and seeing your siblings grow up. Go to school, graduate.

Sighing, you lay your head on the wall behind you, now staring at the sky.

In truth, it probably was always going to end up this way. With you away from your family, shunned and cast out. But this was probably the best outcome because now you have Dr. Light and Wally. You have Sculk, too.

“Hey, babe,” Wally climbs out of the window. He knows how you find the word odd, but he loves your reaction to it. “Ready to go back down?” He asks, sitting next to you.

“Not yet,” You mutter, laying your head on his shoulder. He nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and the two of you stare at the clouds together until your legs go numb and you’re forced inside.

“I promise, they’ll love you.”

Downstairs, everyone is seated in the living room and watching some show. Unsure if you should greet them, you wave once again and sit next to Wally on the couch. While you’re nervous and unable to watch the courtroom show, you try your best.

“Oh,” Iris says as she checks her phone. “I hope it’s okay but I invited my friend and her husband over; her parents just died and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“That’s fine, hun,” Rudy nods and everyone tunes back into the show until Wally suggests playing Just Dance.

“(Y/n), partners?” He grins as his father loads the game. You’ve played the game before, maybe three times but Wally is infinitely better than you.

“Sure,” You agree and the two of you pick a song. Apparently, they play in teams, and whoever scores the most wins. He picks Kesha’s C’mon.

“You always pick this,” You chide, standing next to him.

“I gotta show off,” He shrugs.

After three rounds, it’s decided that Jay and Joan got last place, Rudy and Mary got third, Barry and Iris got second, while you and Wally got first. He cheers, of course, holding up the Wii controllers as if it was a trophy.

“I’d like to dedicate this win to my amazing boyfriend! His support means everything!” He says as if he’s at the Oscars, accepting an award. Grinning, you laugh alongside the others. “And as the winners, we’re deciding on Salvadoran food for dinner!”

“Are you sure there are Salvadoran restaurants nearby? I’d hate for the food to get cold,” As you finish, Wally and Barry stare at you blinking before staring at each other. “What?” You ask and Wally chuckles, leaning down and kisses the top of your head.

“Babe, you’re asking the Flash and Kid Flash if a place is nearby.” He explains and you feel stupid, shaking your head.

“Forgive me for being concerned,” Rolling his eyes, he sits next to you.

“(Y/n) loves Salvadoran food,” He explains. “I don’t think they’ve ever had some, so you’d have to give recommendations.” He tells you and your eyes widen. No way, what if you give them food they hate? “Baby, they love all foods.”

“You say every time it’s my turn to pick dinner,”

“And I’m always right,” He grins. “Right, guys?” He looks at his family, silently urging them to agree.

“I’m sure we’ll love whatever you pick,” Mary nods. Sighing, you agree. Explaining various foods and drinks, they all pick their food and Barry says he’ll pick some up whenever Iris’s friends text back what they’d like to eat. In the meantime, Wally drags you up to his room.

“See!” He basically cheers as he closes the door. “They love you!” Sitting on his bed, you nod and watch as he dances around his room. Doing his victory dance.

“For once I was wrong,” You admit and he nods, still dancing around. “Your family is truly nice.” Scooting back in his bed, he closes the windows and the curtains before joining you. On his way to the bed, he grabs his old picture book.

“Prepare to see the most amazing baby ever!” He grins, his twin-size mattress hardly big enough to hold the two of you. The two of you must’ve stared at pictures for an hour before he puts the book back and the two of you just lay in the bed.

“Yknow something I always wanted to do?” He grins over at you. Looking away from your phone, you hum and look at him. “Make out in my childhood room.” He winks.

“Sure,” You grin and climb on top of him. He giggles and you raise an eyebrow, your hands trailing along his jawline.

“I’m excited,” He huffs, his hands finding their place at your hips. “Sue me.”

Kissing him, you move your right arm down to the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. He hums and wraps his arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the hair at the base of your neck. Feeling his nails drag along your scalp, you relax against him. Your left hand gently holds his jaw, keeping his head tilted high enough for you. Your lips mesh against each other, pressing and gliding with each turn of your heads. Eventually, his tongue slips past his lips and you let yours do the same.

He sighs out of the kiss, staring at you with barely open eyes and a spit-covered grin before leaning back in. Biting your lower lip, Wally picks back up where the two of you left off. Whatever chapstick he had used is fading at this point but he can taste it on your lips, quickly deciding he’ll buy more of it before he loses it. Cupping his neck, you press his lower body deeper into the bed while he makes a move for your belt.

Shifting his left leg higher, you start breaking the kiss, leaving slowly kisses trailing down his neck when the door swings open.

“I was right!” Barry shouts, laughing at your expressions. “Come on, dinners ready and Iris’s friends are here.” He closes the door, still laughing as you and Wally fix yourself.

“That part wasn’t on my bucket list,” He jokes, wiping your mouth of spit as you fix your shirt.

“Your family knows we kiss,” You groan. “Your dad knows I’ve kissed you! In his house!” He’s going to try and kill you, get Barry to create a tornado, and deprive you of oxygen.

“My dad knows I tried to have sex in his house!” He groans back. “We can still leave with our dignity.”

“No,” You huff, kicking the air. “That would be worse. Let’s just go downstairs and act as though Barry never caught us.” It takes him a second but he agrees and the two of you start your walk of shame down to where the rest of his family are.

“There’s the lovebirds!” Barry cheers when the two of you finally emerge. Wally rolls his eyes while you stare at the carpet. It’s too late, you can never look any of them in the eyes again. “Sorry, I interrupted your little make-out session,”

“Babe,” Iris scolds, putting her hand on his knee. He holds his hands up and Iris clears her throat. Wally guides you to a smaller couch than the one you sat on earlier and you finally look somewhere other than the carpet. “Mary this is my brother, Wally, and his boyfriend—“

“(Y/n)?” Mary finished for her. Looking over at Mary, she seems familiar but you can’t tell from where.

“I apologize, but do I know you?” You ask and she frowns. Everyone looks between the two of you but her husband seems to have already placed it. He grabs her hand, giving her his silent support.

“It’s me, Mary,” She says and you’re still no closer to knowing who she was. Her frown grows deeper when she figures that nothing is clicking for you.

“Your sister.”

“Oh,” You breathe. Wiping your hands on your pants, you lick your lips.

“Where’ve you been all these years?” She asks, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. When you look at her, you hate how you don’t feel anything. There’s no connection with her, she’s just another stranger to you.

“I don’t believe right now is the most appropriate place for this conversation,” You tell her with a tight smile.

“We tried to get ahold of you for the funeral. Mom and Dad would’ve loved to see you—“

“No.” You tell her. Now it’s Wally’s turn to offer you moral support. “They wouldn’t have. If they didn’t want me in their life then they wouldn’t have wanted me in their death. As I've said before, now is hardly the time or place to be having this conversation. I believe you’re making the hosts uncomfortable.”

“Can we talk outside?” She begs. “Please, I haven’t seen you in a decade. (N/n).” The name stings. It stings more than any injury you’ve ever gotten. The name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It reminds you of everything you’ve lost, it reminds you that you’ll never be that child again. But maybe, she’s different. Mary might not be like your parents, she could love you again.

“Fine.” You coincide. “Wallace will join us, though.” She nods, anything to get to talk to you. Wally is up before you are, guiding the three of you out to the backyard as his family awkwardly eats their food.

“Why did you leave?” She asks once everyone is settled in the deck chairs his father had set out earlier in the day.

“That’s far from the truth,” Shaking your head, you stare at the moon. “I was kicked out. They’d given up their rights to me, tried to get me sent to a wilderness camp.”

“Mom never would’ve done that!” Mary’s eyes narrow and you huff, looking back at her.

“Mary, what use is lying now? If I ran away wouldn’t they have looked for me? Reported me missing— tried to get me home?” It settles on her, how your mother and father only cried for you and prayed during church for you. But they never asked for you back. Her eyes lower, almost ashamed of her actions.

“Where were you?” She reaches for your hand but you move it away on instinct.

“A cabin in the woods. I lived there until recently,”

“Your father,” Mary’s husband started after silence had fallen over the group. “He always told stories about you being possessed. A she-demon who took over your body,”

“I guess he meant you being gay…” Mary trails before she sighs. “(N/n), I’m so sorry I didn’t help you. That I didn’t fight for you. I’ve missed your entire life, all because I believed our parents without question. But God has brought us back together, God is letting us be a family again.”

“I don’t believe in such a cruel man,” You tell her and she falters. “Your god and his cruel ways are what led to me being abandoned. It’s what led to me living in a broken-down cabin until I was found almost ten years later. Your god isn’t someone deserving of my love and my devotion. He’s never helped me,” You spit. “I helped myself. I found solace, I found joy, I found love. Look, Mary,” Wiping your face, you grab Wally’s hand, giving it squeezes to comfort yourself.

“I will not tell you that you’re wrong for choosing that god, I will not tell you that your religion is cruel. I’m sure you’ve heard it a thousand times over. What I am telling you is that your god played no role in my life. I am here because I am meeting my boyfriend's family. I met Wallace because the woman who found me is friends with Barry’s friends. I am still alive no thanks to god, no thanks to your mother and father. If you wish to have some sort of relationship with me, you’ll need to understand that.” It was awkward, saying that in front of Wally’s family and all but clearly Mary wasn’t going to let the situation go.

“I understand,” She nods, her hand rising to press against her cross. “I’m sure our other siblings would love to see you again. I know your birthday is coming up—“

“It is?” Wally gasps, effectively changing the whole conversation. “You’ve never told me your birthday!” The realization hits him like a truck and he gasps, clutching his chest. “Babe!” Mary stifles her laughter, watching the two of you.

“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years, Wallace,”

“We’re celebrating!” He shakes his head. “I’m already planning the best surprise birthday for you,” He grins, leaning closer to you.

“Please, look up the definition of a surprise.”

“My dad told me the same thing,”

—

December arrives faster than you’d like. You know Wally and your sister have been texting about your surprise party. You’ve seen their messages— and the subsequent group chat with all of the people who are going. It’s Wally, his family, your sister, your family, Kimiyo and her kids. No one from the team, though. Wally understood well enough that you’d hate to have them there. They know next to nothing about your biological family and you’d hate to have them learn in that way.

Sculk isn’t the happiest with this. She’s against the idea of you rekindling things with your family but you’ve explained that nothing is set in stone. You’re testing the waters, unable to let yourself get hurt like that again.

“Happy birthday!” Wally cheers as you enter the training room. Everyone else is already there, starting their warm-ups.

Thank you, Wallace,” Nodding towards him, you start your warm-up. He watches you, a stupid grin on his face because he doesn’t think you know his plans. He’s already created a great cover story. Barry and Kimiyo are going to call the two of you away for a mission. It’ll do two things, create a reason for you two to leave and ensure that the two of you aren’t called back for an emergency.

Double win!

“Happy birthday,” The others rush out and you thank them all the same.

Around twelve, Wally tells you to put on something nice. He says nothing fancy, but not jeans either. Essentially, your version of comfortable wear. Surprisingly, he’s dressed up.

He’s wearing a new shirt and pants, a black turtleneck, and a pair of brown plaid pants. Of course, he puts on his usual shoes.

“Ehh!” He says, gesturing to his outfit.

“We could skip it and I could enjoy this outfit in my room,” You offer, slowly trailing your eyes over him. For a moment he genuinely considers it. His eyes flicker something almost desperate, yearning, but he shakes his head.

“I have an amazing day, plus backups planned,” He tells you, smoothing out your collar. “We can do what you said when we come back, yeah?”

“If you can wait that long,” You chide. His eyebrows raise, seeing that as a challenge he is more than willing to accept.

The two of you leave Mount Justice with help from Sculk. Appearing in the backseat of Barry’s car that’s parked outside of the venue Mary had rented out, he looks back at the two of you. You’ve spent more time with Barry and Iris since Thanksgiving, actually enjoying their company. Iris often invites you out for coffee on the weekends.

“No getting freaky—“

“Shut up!” Wally groans, covering his ears before loudly repeating lalalalala. You just stare at him, unblinking. That’s the guy you’ve fallen for.

“You ready?” Iris asks as she looks back towards you. “Because you can always leave.” Her hand reaches for her knee and Wally catches that for once, you don’t jerk away from the sudden touch. His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, even if you’re unaware of the shine in them.

“I’m sure I’ll be prepared for most of the possible outcomes,” You reassure.

Heading inside, you see faces with features that you see in yourself. You see your hair color, your eye shape, your skin tone. Your family. They’re all so foreign to you, you know their names and their relation to you but you don’t know them. They’re like an urban legend in your mind; except you’ve always figured the Moth Man was more real than you reuniting with Thomas again.

“(Y/n),” He smiles at you, his height matching your own. Thomas was your twin growing up, he was born a week after you to your mother's brother. You’d been inseparable since birth. Damn near identical, too.

“Thomas,” You greet him. “Wallace, this is my cousin. Thomas, this is my boyfriend, Wallace.”

“Call me Wally,” He introduces himself with a handshake. “He’s a stickler for full names.” He smiles back at you and you smile back. Thomas laughs before patting your shoulder.

“Glad to see that hasn’t changed! Come on, Pop is dying to see you again.”

And thus begins an hour of reuniting with family. Having Wally hear whatever stories they’ve retained over the years, small pieces of your childhood that Wally never thought he’d get to hear.

“You had a stutter?” He whispers to you as the two of you look to find Mary.

“Used to,” Humming, you spot Mary talking to her husband near the drinks table. “It stopped when I merged with Sculk.” Who, just for the record, is hating every second of this. She hates when they greet you, when they talk fondly of you. when they hug you. She hates the way they act as if you’ve been off to a different country to study and not cast out from their family entirely.

She hates how the elephant is being ignored.

You find it amusing how not only are you meeting your family, but so is Wally. Although, he’s much less nervous than you were. He’s chatting away, doing most of the speaking for you (bless him, honestly), and mingling enough for the two of you.

“(Y/n)!” A woman smiles as she pulls you and Wally over. Removing your arm from her grip, she looks down at it but doesn’t vocalize her thoughts. “I was just telling Imani how you’ve grown into a strong young man.” She grins, beckoning her daughter over. Imani, who you remember through Thomas, is his neighbor. But they’re considered family by the older generations.

“I remember him crying over a trapped mouse,” Imani grins, nudging her shoulder with yours. Rolling your eyes, you see Wally grin and lean his head on your shoulder.

“You cried over a mouse?” Wally asks and you nod.

“I had just read the Crime of Being Small poem. It was cruel to let the creature starve in the trap when I could simply release it. But my father never permitted me,” You explain. “It never stopped me though,”

“What a hero,” Imani remarks, a lighthearted smile on her face as she watches her mother leave. It drops once she’s out of earshot. “I can’t believe you came back,” She frowns and you frown back. Was she not happy to see you? You understood you were never that close but, damn. “No offense, but you’re better off.” She quickly adds and guides you over to seats.

“Before you went on that mountain trip, our parents were thinking of setting us up,” She explains, scratching her neck. “They started up that betrothal shit again; I’m actually engaged.”

“We could help you get out,” Wally immediately offers and you nod. She sighs, wringing her hands together.

“I don’t have my diploma… I don’t have anything,” She admits and Wally glances at you, urging you to take the lead.

“Neither did I,” She looks at you as if she remembered that you’d been alone, without any documentation for years. “But I can set you up with someone; get a place to live while you get your GED and raise enough money to support yourself.”

“Really?” She breathes and you nod, offering a smile.

“Give me your number or…” Thinking about it. “I could ask them to collect your belongings now and we can leave once the party is over.”

“That quick?”

“That quick.”

Connections, connections, connections. That’s the name of the game, at least that’s what Kimiyo tells you. Getting into contact with Bruce was easy, he’d prepared a safe house in Central City until Imani picked a different one. Clark and Doctor Fate collected Imani’s things, setting them up in the safe house.

All the while, you and Wally are hanging amongst everyone at the party, eating snacks and drinking fruit punch. Imani is nervous, having to excuse herself to the bathroom enough that her mother starts to worry. So, the two of you bring her into your group and talk until Mary says it’s time to sing Happy Birthday.

You’re reluctant. But you can’t say no, it is your party.

It’s a tower of a cake, covered in your favorite color with small white details. There are little emblems and when you look at them, you see Lady Whistledown. The gossiper in Bridgerton.

Everyone sings Happy Birthday, recording videos with obnoxious flashlights and trying to get you to smile.

The song ends and you’re handed the knife, everyone waiting for you to make the first cut. Hand the first slice to someone incredibly important to you. You know Mary wishes it was for her, she stands next to your other siblings, watching as you cut the slice and carefully plate it. Her hands almost reach for the plate instinctively, but you hand it to Wally.

He doesn’t know the meaning of the plate. He doesn’t understand that you’re basically declaring your love for him. He doesn’t get why everyone is stunned when he’s handed the slice. But you smile at him and wipe frosting from the knife onto his nose. The same thing he’d done to you for your birthday.

Barry takes over cutting the other slices, handing you the second slice so the two of you could sit in peace for a little bit.

“Did you enjoy it?” Wally asks as the two of you make your way to the outside area.

“More than I thought I would,” The cake is lovely. It tastes good but you’re sure Wally has incredible tastes for these sorts of things. “Thank you, Wallace.”

It’s too early for an ‘I love you’, but both of you can feel the words lingering in the air. Your feelings are mutual, trying to outshine the other but you match his love in your own ways.

To be loved is to be seen. To be loved is to be changed. To be loved is to be known.

You love Wally. You love how he catches your moods, how he knows when you need a break, when you need a push. You love how you’ve slowly noticed his little quirks becoming your own. His eye rolls, his laugh, his gaze. You love how he knows your favorite color, your favorite flavor, and your favorite food. How he knows certain things would never be something you’d enjoy.

Laying your head on his shoulder, you stare at his free hand. He’s since finished his cake, the empty plate left on the ledge next to him.

Saying I love you feels right. Saying I love you would be like saying the sky is blue. Of course, it is, of course you do. But you’ve heard it’s too soon in the relationship. It’s too soon to feel that strongly about someone. But in truth, you think this is only the beginning.

—

“How're you holding up?” Wally asks as he rushes over to you, watching your back as you fight against two of the zombie soldiers. He attacks the third zombie that had slipped behind you.

“Good,” You huff, using Sculk’s powers to rip one of the zombie’s heads from its body. “I broke one of their jaws and used it as a shovel.” He makes a noise akin to that’s good and you hum.

“Can you two focus?” Conner grunts, having five zombies on top of him. Flinging them off of him, you roll your eyes and pull the zombies to the center of the room. There’s about a dozen or so left and Dick had wanted to get some in to see what spell or curse they were under. It was a little difficult to knock out a zombie, they didn’t have a stream of consciousness or any sort of pain receptors.

It was a matter of switching off their mobility, essentially paralyzing them.

“Thanks, Ward,” Dick sighs, wiping his face of zombie flesh. Nodding, you check over Wally. He’s fine, talking to Artemis. His hair is messy and his black suit is working wonders for his body. Damn, runner's ass was a real thing.

Snapping out of it, you clear your throat and head over to M’Gann and Zatanna, helping with the magic side of everything.

“I want Ward and Miss Martian with me to dissect them,” Dick tells everyone as Zatanna binds them together. “Zatanna, could you make sure that nothing follows us back?” She nods and scans the area as you help M’Gann load up the zombies. It makes the jet smell horrid, surprise, dead things without ventilation smell horrible!

On the way home, you can’t help but stare at Wally. His black suit really is nice, but when he switches back to the yellow and red, you shift in your seat.

“Zombies moving!” Conner shouts and you whip your head around, seeing the twelve zombies surrounded by a magical sort of aura.

The Witches doing. Sculk sneers as she helps you put them back down. This time, she encases them in a magical prison. Cool, totally cool.

“It’s Enchantress,” You tell them. “Someone needs to alert Batman that June has lost control of her.” Dick nods and calls his father. With Enchantress, you know you’re in for a long night of undoing spells and magical traps. So long that you’ll overuse Sculk’s magic and probably do something stupid.

Dammit.

—

Looking up from his phone, Wally gets up at the rapid knocks on his door. It opens and he smiles when he sees you, about to greet you before you start speaking.

“I want you,” You tell Wally as you stand in front of his door, covered in sweat. He stares at you, confused. He hasn’t even known that you returned from the dissection room.

“You have me…?” He trails, letting you in, and checks the hallway to see if anyone else is awake and in the hallway. It’s the middle of the night, he’d thought about going to sleep so it’s probably around two in the morning.

“No, I want you sexually.” You groan as he closes his door, although you’ve come close more than a dozen times, nothing has gone past a couple of hickeys. “Ever since this—“ You gesture between the two of you. “I’ve been feeling weird shit. Horny shit. And fuck your suit? It’s really doing things to me, man!” You admit and he has to pause. Never has he heard you say any of those words before.

“Are you okay?” He asks, putting his hand on your forehead. When he does, you start giggling and hold his hand in yours.

“Yes— Sculk thinks I should mention I get weird when I overuse her powers— but I’ve been jacking it like a pre-teen for months to the idea of you. So, can we fuck? That sounds so rude.” You frown and drop his hand. “I’m willing to have sex if you are. Like so willing,” You rephrase your sentence.

“Yes, please,” He laughs, already discarding his shirt as you grin and start to do the same. “Wait— are you sure you want this? I feel like this should wait until you’re clear-headed,” He says as he places a hand on your chest, keeping you away from him.

“Ugh, you’re too nice. And sure, Sculk is about to knock me out, anyway,” In preparation you go to sit on his bed but your body gives out and you collapse. Wally even with his amazing sight can’t tell when your body changes from you to Sculk. Black and blue cover takes your body like moss on a tree and Sculk sits up.

“This’ll be short,” She says, her voice like that of an audiobook for children. “Yes, he’s in a clear state of mind. Too clear, it’s basically anti-lying drugs when he overuses my powers. So, good luck. I will not be here for when you two…” She makes a face. “You know. I’ll be locked away, trust. That’s my son, I already hear his thoughts about you.” She gags at the mention and he doesn’t know if he should feel insulted.

“Son?” He echos and she laughs. It makes him feel warm, like a child again.

“I’ve raised the kid, that’s my son. He really likes you, by the way,” She smiles. “Thank you, for that. But I’ll kill you if need be.” And just like that, your body is back on his bed and he’s left trying to grasp with the knowledge he’s been bestowed.

—

With much encouragement from Wally, you agreed to hang out with the others for dinner. He thinks it’s the perfect time to have dinner with the team. With summer approaching again, he’s hoping for a weekend vacation with the team. You wanted to stay inside his room, perhaps continue your activities from the morning. But this was fine, too, you supposed.

Everyone is in the kitchen, discussing what to get.

“I’m tired of pizza,” Artemis says, immediately cutting Wally off when his lips press to make the P sound. “We should branch out for once! How about Salvadoran food?” Nodding in agreement, you can already picture what you’re going to eat.

“My boyfriend loves Salvadoran food!” Wally beams, pulling you into a sideways hug. The others pause their conversation and look at the two of you.

“Boyfriend?” Dick echos, looking between the two of you. “You’re his boyfriend?” He asks you.

“I do enjoy Salvadoran food,” You nod. His eye nearly twitched, technically yes, that answered the question but it totally didn’t at the same time.

“How long have you been dating?” M’Gann smiles, her arm wrapping around Conner’s shoulder.

“One year and one month,” Wally happily tells them. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed. (Y/n)’s been super touchy, it’s cute.” He grins before kissing your cheek. “And my lock screen is him.” As proof, he shows them the picture of you smiling with the sea glass next to your eye. Yours is a picture of you and Wally on a date to the local fair where he ate too many deep-fried Oreos.

“They don’t notice me,” You shrug, just wanting to eat. “It isn’t surprising that they haven’t taken notice.” Frowning, Wally rubs your arm and looks at the others with an accusing glare.

“That’s not true,” Klaudr shakes his head. “You’re a valuable teammate, we notice you.” The others nod but do not offer anything of value.

“I don’t mind,” Shaking your head, you lean away from Wally. “I understand I am not the most approachable or the most… friendly person on this team. There’s no ill intent nor malice.”

Before anyone can speak again, your phone buzzes and you see it’s a call from Doctor Light.

“I am needed elsewhere,” Excusing yourself, you kiss the corner of Wally’s mouth. “Enjoy your dinner.” He nods and sees you off, but doesn’t return to the others for dinner. Instead, he makes a bowl of cereal and heads towards his room. Only, the elevator door won’t open.

He tries every door and nothing works, he’s stuck in the common area until you or Zatanna returns to fix it. Great. He’ll just eat his food in the living room.

The others don’t eat much before heading to the living room.

“Wally,” Dick starts but Wally doesn’t listen. With his back to everyone, Wally lays down on one of the shorter couches, making sure no one could sit next to him or talk to him. For extra measure, he puts on your pair of headphones that he stashed in the living room and immediately, the sound around him drops to nothing but his own breathing.

Dramatic, probably. But he would’ve thought that the team, his friends— supposedly your friends, were still excusing you. He’d straight up told Dick that he basically ignored you, surely he would’ve thought ‘Hmm, my teammate is being excluded, we should include him especially since he was alone since he was five until four years ago’ but no. He thinks it especially hurts because Dick is his best friend— his best friend can’t be bothered to take the time to be friends with his boyfriend.

That shit really stings.

He must’ve watched videos for three hours before he saw the mist of your powers roll over him. Pushing one of the headphones away from his ear, he looks back at you and smiles. You’re dropping your hero outfit on the ground, revealing your daily clothes and your tired expression. He catches the signs that you’ve overworked yourself and frowns. That mission must’ve been tough, but you’re not injured.

“Aw, babe,” He draws out as he scoots back, offering space between him and the back of the couch. “Wanna cuddle?” The offer is met with a simple nod and he lets you crawl over him. He smiles as you lay in front of him, throwing one leg over his legs to pull him closer.

“Thanks, ‘missed you,” You mumble, digging your head into his shirt. With barely open eyes, you stare at him. He can basically see the heart eyes you’re making and he smiles, tracing chemical bonds on your cheek.

“I missed you, too,” He whispers, pulling the headphones off with his free hand.

“Nah,” You laugh and his eyebrows raise. “I missed you so much more!” You tell him, running your fingers up and down his arm.

“How much?” He asks, just to milk the situation.

“Oh,” You sigh, eyes wide. “Like so much! Ugh, Kimiyo wouldn’t let me leave to come and see you!” He fake gasps and you nod, acting as if that was going to get her in trouble.

“She didn’t?” Wally shakes his head.

“She did, baby!” You whine, cupping his face. “I was so lonely and I kept thinking about you and me and you kissing, us having se— Sculk is telling me to shut up.” You laugh into his chin and he knows the party is over. “She says I’m gonna regret this when I wake up— oh, she’s making me fall asleep. Night,” Immediately, your head falls onto the pillow and your hands drop into your face. He fixes you, of course, laying on his back with you on top of him.

When he flips onto his back he catches the others staring and stares back.

“We’re sorry,” Dick speaks first, looking amongst the others. “We should’ve made more of an effort with (Y/n).” He nods, carefully fixing your hair.

“Our normality and judgment blocked out any potential interactions,” Kaldur adds. “We understand that looking from the outside doesn’t provide the full story, especially regarding Ward.”

“Who knew he was so cuddly,” Artemis adds, making Wally chuckle.

“I did,” He speaks softly despite knowing Canary’s screams won’t wake you up in that state.

#x male reader #x reader #wally west x reader #wally west x male reader #young justice x reader #young justice x male reader #wally west x you

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

Text

bla bla bla (m) - hongjoong

part of the idol series.

summary: idol!hongjoong x staff!reader. it’s the thrill of being with someone off limits that pulls you to hongjoong. hushed conversations, discreet kisses, rushed sex. you can’t let anyone else at the company know that this has been going on so long, but the more time you spend with him the more madly in love you fall for kim hongjoong, leader of ateez.

word count: 15.6k

warnings: there’s so much smut, i’m sorry. afab reader. unprotected sex, semi unrealistic cum play, oral (f&m), mutual masturbation, hand stuff, public sex, spanking, panty gag, gendered terms and terms like slut/whore

masterlist

hongjoong is always trying something.

a new beat pad, your nerves, an outfit that’s totally out there. but you’re embarrassingly endeared by it all, and you do your best to hide it every day. being his main stylist makes that hard, though. you spend countless hours with him in close proximity to you, being his charming, artistic self, and you have to pretend not to eat it up. at least while other people are around.

when it’s just the two of you though? he’s usually got you wrapped around his cock, either on your knees with your cheeks hollowed out for him, or bent over the nearest surface begging for mercy. doesn’t matter where or who can hear. he can’t get enough of you, and you can’t get enough of him. that’s what makes your job challenging, and exciting as hell.

today is no different. the boys are coming in for fittings of their new stage outfits for the next leg of the tour, and you’ve got all of hongjoong’s outfits hung before you in an orderly manner. you had also set out yeosang and jongho’s, being in charge of their outfits usually as well, but there’s enough staff here today for you each to help the members individually. that makes the fittings go by quicker so the boys can get back to work, and you and your team have more time to make adjustments if the boys need anything changed.

like always, hongjoong struts in right on time, carrying that confident air with him everywhere he goes. it’s not cockiness, per se, but he knows he’s the coolest person in any room he walks into. that drew you to him initially, because you also have to be the coolest person anywhere you go. that made you and hongjoong click instantly, ooo-ing and ah-ing over each others’ accessories, sharing what interesting things you did over the weekend, or what exciting things you were working on. if you had to admit it though, hongjoong is way cooler than you are. he would say the same about you, and he does today as he walks up to you and blatantly checks you out.

“where’d you get that sweater?” he asks, handing you one of the coffees he’s holding. “it’s really cool. i like the yellow.”

“why, you trying to copy me?” you ask, playing into this half-hearted gatekeeping you try to do with each other. you pretend to refuse, and later, when hongjoong is free, you take him to your favorite spots and he takes you to his. this sweater was actually from a boutique he told you about, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

“no?” he says easily, leaning in before he continues. “if i wanted to copy you i’d just steal this the next time i’m at your place.” he pulls back, a smirk on his lips, and as you stand there slightly stunned he smacks his lips and looks to the rack of clothes next to you. “so, just start with whatever?”

“uh, no,” you say, grabbing his hand to stop him from grabbing just anything. “you should know by now i have a system. put on the new world fit, robe and all. i made some alterations and i’m not sure they’re right for your proportions.”

“i’m sure it’s fine,” he says quietly as he takes the pieces off the hanger. then, looking at you with his eyebrow quirked, “alright if i just change here?”

“go ahead,” you motion, turning slightly to give him some privacy. you see the rest of the boys in various states of undress, san giving you an awkward little smile before he pulls his shirt off. you see a flash of jongho’s bare legs in one of the changing areas, and you’re pretty sure mingi accidentally pulled his boxers down as he took off his outside pants, but you won’t comment on it. hongjoong clearing his throat brings you back to your task, and you turn around to see he’s followed your directions, hood up and everything. you smile as he pretends to use the force, he must be spending too much time with seonghwa. ignoring him you ask, “how’s the length?”

“hm?” he asks, looking at you with a glint in his eye. you hold his gaze for a moment, challenging him to take it further. eventually you just motion to the end of the robe, asking “how’s the hem? i took it in a couple inches so you won’t trip over it anymore.”

“i wasn’t tripping over it,” he grumbles as he takes the hood down, looking at the hem anyway. “..but it is better, thank you.”

“good, now take it off.”

“cheeky.”

“just the robe,” you roll your eyes. “let me see the top.”

“it feels tighter,” he comments, flexing his arms slightly. “did you take this in too?”

“no,” you shake your head. “i might have to let it out, i heard you’ve been exercising a lot recently.” another shared look, both of you daring the other to crack. yes, hongjoong has been working out lately, but that’s just so he can get more creative with you in the sack. he’s been so insistent on trying a position that requires him to hold you up the whole time, so you told him you’d do it if he bulked up first. you’re both surely thinking of this promise currently, but wooyoung’s voice cuts through the moment.

“hey hyung, you are getting more muscle,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “it’s kinda sexy.”

“is it?” hongjoong asks, turning to you for confirmation. you make a face as you reply.

“eh, kinda. it’d be sexier if it didn’t create more work for me to do,” you sigh, and hongjoong rolls his eyes. as you move in closer to retake some of his measurements, just to check, he whispers low enough just for you to hear.

“you know you like it,” he says. “what did you call them the other day? my big beefy arms?”

“and your tits,” you reply back, just as quiet, your measuring tape struggling to hold in your grasp as you measure the stretch over his chest. “your tits are nice and big now too.”

“if only there was a way for yours to get bigger,” he tsks, and you laugh as you push him back, instructing him to try on another outfit. there’s plenty that don’t need changes, or he can just look at the alterations (a new button here, a deeper pocket for the mic pack there) and give his okay to the changes. finally, you get to one of the last outfits, what you call his fireworks fit.

“put these on,” you say, holding up a new pair of leather pants. “you wore the old ones out, but i couldn’t find the exact pair we had the first time. let me see if these look alright.”

“is this necessary?” he whines. “you know i hate getting into these.”

“yeah, but it’s so worth it when you are,” you tease, licking your lips dramatically, earning a laugh from jongho next to you. he finished a few minutes ago, not much of his wardrobe needing to be changed. he asks you a quick question about some shoes, and you make a note to get him a size up next time. when you’re done, hongjoong is dressed, eyeing himself in the mirror next to you. you walk up behind him, adjusting the shoulder seams of his top before you say quietly, “your little booty just looks so good in these.”

“little?!” he twirls around, eyes wide and offended. you can’t help the cackle you let out, surprised your comment would affect him so much. he tries to hush you, but the remaining members and stylists eye you both suspiciously. wooyoung looks like he’s about to say something when hongjoong cuts him off, “mind your business, jung.”

“you’re being loud, kim.”

“respect your elders!” hongjoong shouts back, and you can tell this session is gonna derail quickly. you place your hands on hongjoong’s shoulders, guiding him to the changing area so he’ll be out of wooyoung’s splash zone. once you’re both settled behind the curtain, hongjoong smiles down at you. “hey.”

“hey,” you say half hearted, eyes focusing on fixing the way the shirt lays on his chest. “i don’t like the way this looks, it falls like this and that’s sloppy to me-”

“y/n,” hongjoong whispers, and you stop to meet his eyes. he smiles at you again, brighter this time, and tries once more. “hi beautiful.”

“hey handsome,” you say, relaxing into him. you lay your head on his chest briefly, his hands coming up to cup yours. “i’m exhausted.”

“me too,” he sighs, bringing your hands to his lips. he presses soft kisses to your knuckles as he continues. “wish you could come over tonight, but i think some of the managers are catching on.”

“we wouldn’t do much sleeping if i came over anyway,” you say suggestively, and he chuckles, the low rumble warming your cheeks as your head nuzzles further into his chest.

“yeah, but that’s the thing,” he starts. “can’t tell if i’m not sleeping well because i’m not fucking you till the sun comes up, or if it’s cause you’re not sleeping next to me.” he sighs, playing with your fingers as he goes on. “guess we’ll just have to wait for the weekend though. you still free saturday?”

“yep,” you nod. “i’m all yours.”

“that’s what i like to hear,” he smirks, pecking you quickly. “we better get back out there, i don’t want wooyoung on my ass too.”

“you gotta stop arguing with him when i’m around,” you say, and hongjoong stops to look at you questioningly. “because i’m not afraid of him and i’ll give him a nice little sucker punch if he gives you too much trouble.”

“don’t mind him, sugar,” he says before placing a kiss to the top of your head. “he just likes getting a reaction out of people, so if you punched him that’d just encourage him to do it again.”

“he’s a weird one.”

“yeah,” hongjoong sighs, his lips still planted in your hair. you can barely hear him breathe in, and then he asks, “are you using a new shampoo?”

“no?” you ask, pulling back. “why?”

“you smell different,” he scowls.

“baby,” you smile, cupping his cheek. “i think it’s because i’ve been at my house so much recently. i’m just using my regular shampoo, not yours, or whatever the guys have in the showers.”

“don’t like that,” he shakes his head. “i’ll see if i can sneak you in later tonight.”

“hongjoong, i-”

“no, babe, i miss you,” he says sternly. “you’re coming over, no excuses.”

“ok,” you say, defeated. “just text me when the coast is clear.”

you get a text around 10pm that hongjoong is finally at the dorm (”sorry, my bad, i started a new song and-”) so you head over soon after that. you’re not sure if tomorrow’s one of those days you might have to sneak out before the crack of dawn, so you don’t want to waste a minute of your time with hongjoong.

as you make the short trip to his, your mind wanders to this whole set up you have. sneaking around, having to worry about when you need to leave his house so no one sees you, it’s tiring. sometimes you’d like to go over to your boyfriend’s house just because. or whatever it is hongjoong is to you. because a boyfriend isn’t someone you hide away with to steal some kisses or creep around with in the wee hours of the night. you should bring this up to him, at least voice your concerns - what could you both really do about it though? no matter what you say to him your situation would be the same, so might as well keep things the way they are. because things are nice. hongjoong is sweeter than anyone you’ve been with before, and you’re afraid of maybe someday having to find someone else who makes you feel the way he makes you feel.

you’re still pondering what you could possibly say to him as you walk into the familiar building, making your way up to his floor. as you get closer to the boys’ dorm, you’re met with a wonderful smell. wooyoung must have cooked dinner, and you hope they saved you some, you were starving. you barely have to knock on the door before hongjoong is tearing it open to cover you in kisses, starting at your forehead and spazzing his way down to your lips. when you finally meet in a soft kiss, you smile into his lips and he does the same, pulling back just long enough to look at you as he grabs you by the cheeks, and then he’s kissing you again gently.

“i missed you,” he says into your mouth, making you chuckle.

“because it’s been so long,” you say with a roll of your eyes, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to play with the hair on the back of his head. “how’s the song? better than the one you started yesterday?”

“baby,” he groans. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to keep you waiting that long, i just was-”

“inspired, i know,” you smile softly. “i’m glad you got to work on it. i just hope i can hear this one, unlike all the others you’ve been hiding from me lately.”

“they’re not good enough yet,” he sighs. “and you know i have to do everything in my power to impress you.”

“well don’t try so hard,” you whisper, kissing him sweetly. “it doesn’t take much.”

“i’ll start tomorrow,” he says with a cheeky smile, sliding his hands to your shoulders to spin you around, facing their living room. you were right, there was food, but hongjoong had set their living room up to look like a fancy restaurant, candles laid out and flowers on the coffee table amidst all the food. it takes your breath away, and hongjoong watches you proudly as he waits for a response.

“joongie,” you melt, turning back to him and wrapping him in a tight hug. “why’d you do this?”

“wanted you to have something nice,” he shrugs like it’s nothing. “you’ve been working a lot this week, thought it’d be nice for you to get pampered a little.”

“well i love it,” you say as he guides you to the couch. he hands you your favorite blanket from his room, and you quickly wrap yourself in it as he makes your plate. “wooyoung helped?”

“yes,” hongjoong groans. “god, he’s never teased me so much before. i almost made him stop and put me out of my misery, but seeing you happy like this made it worth it.”

“aw, how sweet,” you coo as you take the plate he’s holding out for you. “thank you, really. i don’t know how to tell you how much this means to me.”

“save it,” he smiles shyly. “it’ll just embarrass us both.”

“but you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you say through a mouthful of food. “fuck, this is good. wooyoung is a genius.”

“damn, do i need to learn how to cook now?”

“well you should learn anyway,” you say, pointing an accusing fork in his direction. “but it’s sweet that you’re jealous.”

“am not.”

“are too. now eat your food so we can make out some more.”

once the food is cleared (you and hongjoong are both very adamant about cleaning up after yourselves) you go back to the couch, but hongjoong pulls you to sit in his lap. his hands settle on your waist as your legs fall to the outside of his thighs, and you place your hands on his shoulders, pinching his cheek for good measure. he pinches your ass in retaliation, and that’s all the encouragement you need to dive back into his lips. you spend some time lost in each other like this, slowly making out, and you let your hips roll experimentally. hongjoong tightens his hold on you, keeping you in place, and you whine.

“sorry sugar,” he sighs. “all the boys are home, and seonghwa’s asleep already. i can’t kick him out tonight, so don’t make me hard.”

“i can’t stop you from popping a boner-”

“you can behave and not do anything to make it worse though,” he scolds, and you’re quiet long enough for him to dip back down to your lips, his tongue caressing yours. you moan into his mouth, and you feel his dick twitch beneath you.

“see? i didn’t even mean to get that reaction,” you pout, and hongjoong kisses it away.

“maybe we should just watch a movie then,” he says, looking around for the remote. you stop him, grabbing his face by the chin. he looks at you challengingly as he waits for you to speak.

“it’s late,” you say, and he nods. “so everyone is probably asleep.”

“yeah babe, i said hwa was asleep in-”

“no no, forget him,” you say. “everyone’s asleep? so we have the living room to ourselves?”

“oh,” hongjoong finally realizes, stammering as he continues. “uh, i mean, yeah, we could, but...”

“but what?”

“all my condoms are in my room,” he whispers, almost like if he says it quietly it won’t bother you.

“oh,” you sigh. “well, just hand stuff then. take your pants off.”

“no, you!” you hop up easily, pulling your pants down and grabbing hongjoong’s blanket. you drape it over yourself as he pulls his pants and boxers down quickly, encasing you both in the fabric as you sit back in his lap. your clothed core just barely brushes his tip and he jerks, making you smile.

“and you said we should just watch a movie,” you smirk, spitting in your hand before reaching for hongjoong’s cock. he watches your every move with an animalistic look in his eye, like he wants to devour you whole. both of you focus your gaze to hongjoong’s lap, your hand carefully wrapping around him and using your spit to get him slick. you have to spit again, partly because it’ll help and also because you know it drives hongjoong crazy when you make a mess, so you do it and your hand returns to its place around his cock. you stroke him a few times, trying to get him hard quickly. he thinks you’re just trying to get him off faster, so he tsks and pulls you further up his lap so his cock is almost laying on top of your cunt. it gives him a better angle to pull your panties aside, slowly pushing one finger into your slick to check how wet you are.

“needy baby,” he sighs, feeling the way your cunt swallows his digit tightly. “always ready for me, huh?”

“always,” you whine, grinding up to get more friction. hongjoong removes his hand completely, but you keep stroking him steadily. his hand moves up to your clit, using your wetness to drag over it lazily. you buck up again and he uses his free hand to hold you down, but in this position he’s still the one trapped under you. you can’t help but arch up as hongjoong dips two fingers back to your core, fucking into you slowly and scissoring his fingers open deep inside you.

“taking my fingers so good baby,” he breathes out, focusing hard on not fucking your hand wildly as he gets harder. “doing so good for me, make me feel so good.”

“want your cock, joong,” you pout, and he shakes his head.

“you’ve got it, sugar,” he says, bucking up into your hand to mark his words. “what more do you need?”

“need you inside,” you whisper, and his cock twitches at the idea of taking you raw. “i felt that baby, i know you want it, please just a little bit, please-”

“y/n, you sure?” hongjoong asks, and you meet eyes. you nod, affirming with a hushed “yes” that this is okay, that this is something you’ve wanted for quite some time now but you didn’t know how to say. hongjoong holds your gaze a little longer before going back to your core, fucking into you relentlessly now with three fingers. “guess i gotta get you ready then. you gotta be quiet for me though, can you do that?”

“mhm,” you whisper, trying to prove how good you’ll be starting now. once hongjoong’s satisfied with how open you are, he slides his fingers out and replaces your hand over his cock. he strokes himself once, twice, before holding your panties farther away so he can slide into your weeping cunt. you cry out at the warm feeling of him, and he groans at the feeling of you clenching around him without any protection. he knows this should be off limits, but now that he’s had a taste he can’t have you any other way. he keeps pushing until he’s sheathed fully inside you, he gives you a second to adjust, your arms falling to his biceps. you squeeze his arms tightly, telling him it’s alright to keep going. he pulls you off of him almost completely, just the tip still nestled inside your walls, and then he pulls you back down on his lap, pulling a shriek from deep in your chest. your hands fly to your mouth, heart pounding at the thought of waking the boys and because of the dark look hongjoong’s giving you.

“i said be quiet,” he warns, and you start to defend yourself but he quiets you with his hand covered in your slick, he offers you his fingers, and you know to suck and clean them off. you can taste some of his precum too, and you moan softly at the taste. while you’re distracted by your new task, hongjoong pulls back again and thrusts shallowly into you, rocking you over his lap so his cock just buries into you deeper and deeper. you’re moaning around his fingers, grateful they’re muffling some of your sounds, otherwise hongjoong would stop and leave you to get yourself off.

“mmf,” you mumble around his fingers, and he pulls them from your mouth, a line of saliva falling from their tips and coating your chin. hongjoong jolts at the sight, pulling another little cry from your lips. “my clit, play with my clit, please.”

“you’re that close?” hongjoong asks, and you nod frantically as you start bouncing on his cock, feeling him deep in your stomach. he places a hand at your hip, his thumb pointed down so he can capture your clit with every bounce of your hips. you try your best to keep your moans to a minimum, but when you collapse on hongjoong’s chest, too tired to keep riding him, he forgets why you were even trying to be quiet in the first place. his hands grab your hips firmly, his own high just around the corner, and he fucks you hard and fast, making you shake above him. you cry out one last time, your walls clenching around him so hard it’s impossible for him to move. when you start coming down, your hole spasming around his cock, he comes, trying his best to pull out before he gets too much inside you but you stop him.

“no, baby, please it’s okay,” you assure him, and he freely let’s go, your cunt pumping him for every last drop of come. when he pulls out, some of it dribbles onto your outer lips and hongjoong tries his best to file that image away for the nights you can’t see each other. you slump into his shoulder, breathing slowing down, and hongjoong can tell you’re about to go to sleep.

“nope,” he says, pushing you up. “let’s get you cleaned off.”

“leave it,” you mumble into his shoulder. “can’t move. sleep here.”

“you gonna form a full sentence any time soon?” hongjoong jokes, and you shake your head.

“just pull my panties up,” you say, finally sitting up enough to assess the damage. your pussy is covered in his release, more dripping out of your hole, and you both watch as you clench to stop it from dripping further. the sight alone has you both ready to go again, but it’s late.

“keep this safe for me then, yeah?” he asks, covering your stained pussy with your panties, and you push his shoulder pathetically.

“gross.”

“i mean it, i’m gonna check tomorrow and i expect to see every drop-”

“hongjoong!” you whine, a smile threatening to give you away. “stop talking. just lay down with me, yeah?”

you fell asleep on the couch, which, in hindsight, was a bad idea for a lot of reasons. the worst one is the situation you find yourself in right now, hongjoong asleep on top of you, wrapped up in each other’s arms, and the front door opening to reveal a manager. hongjoong has enough time to poke his head above the couch (thankfully it hides you, for the most part), and he rushes to cover the rest of you with his blanket. he plays it off like he’s straightening up, waving to the manager at the door checking his phone. the boys had to rehearse soon for the tour, so hongjoong goes to grab the other guys and you lay as still and quiet as possible on the couch.

one by one, the members make their way out of their rooms, doing a good job of not noticing you. yeosang does though, face showing shock at the pair of eyeballs staring at him between the cushions. the manager asks if he’s alright and he plays it off, and you think you’ve made it through. it’s just joong and seonghwa left, and you see hongjoong leave next, doing his best to convey something to you with his eyes but you can’t pick up on it. seonghwa comes out last, pretending like he’s looking for something.

“what’s wrong?” the manager asks, and seonghwa explains he’s missing his phone.

“one of the guys might have taken it down to the cars, do you mind checking for me? i’ll look up here and come down if i find it,” he asks, and the manager reluctantly leaves. a few seconds after the door closes, seonghwa looks at you. “hey y/n.”

“hey seonghwa.”

“had a good night?” he asks, and you shrug.

“it was alright,” you say nonchalantly, sitting up to stretch out. “so what’s the move?”

“we’re going to a rehearsal space for a couple hours,” he explains. “wait maybe thirty minutes and then you can head out, hongjoong will see you later when we get back to the company and i’m sure he’ll do or say something despicable to you.”

“can’t wait,” you yawn, falling back down on the couch to sleep a little longer before you can leave.

so, you fell asleep. like for a long time. you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing, and your heart drops to your ass when you see it’s someone from kq. you realize you’re about an hour late, which is so cool and so fun. you scramble off the couch, rushing into the bathroom to attempt to make yourself look like you’re not making a walk of shame into the office. then you notice your clothes, you’re in sweats and a hoodie, so not necessarily work appropriate. you internally scream and head to hongjoong’s room, hoping he has some clean clothes you can change into for work. you do your best to find clothes that are inconspicuous, like if someone with a keen eye looked at you they wouldn’t notice you’re wearing hongjoong’s clothes. you head out the door once you’re satisfied with the look (a sweater you’ve been wanting to “borrow” with a collared shirt underneath that still smells like joong and black slacks) and take out your phone to make an excuse for being late. you have to stop by a designer’s shop to pick up some sample pieces for their next comeback, so you assure your coworker you got caught up at the shop and you’re coming back to the offices soon. you just cross your fingers and toes that’ll satisfy them and save your ass.

hongjoong spent the morning worried, because he’s never had such a close call before. it was stupid of him to let you both fall asleep on the couch, and he’s been beating himself up about it since. but he makes himself feel even worse when the boys get back to the company and he can’t find you anywhere. you’re never late, so hopefully you’re just hidden away working hard somewhere. hongjoong hopes that’s it, and not that you overslept because he’s got a million reasons in his mind over how that could be his fault. he just goes to a rehearsal room with mingi to pass the time, going over their parts together to clean everything up for tour.

about an hour later, hongjoong steps out to grab a water and his ears perk up at your voice. he hears you down the hall, your voice carrying from a slightly cracked door in the office area. he quietly walks closer, not eavesdropping exactly, just choosing intentionally to get water from the fountain next to that office rather than the one right outside the practice room. as he stands there he catches the faintest trace of a conversation.

“so you understand why we can’t risk this happening anymore,” the other staff says sternly, and hongjoong thinks you must be getting reprimanded for being late. he starts berating himself again, thinking it’s all his fault, when he hears you speak.

“i understand,” you respond, your voice shaking. weird, hongjoong thinks. you’re good at keeping your cool at work. what could make you this upset?

he doesn’t have time to ponder that for long, because the conversation wraps up and he hears shuffling from the office. he scurries back to the hallway he came from so he won’t get caught snooping, but he turns back just in time to catch you walking away quickly, wiping at your face. were you crying? then he catches the eye of the staff standing to the side, and she gives him a pointed look, tight-lipped with a warning in her eyes. hongjoong almost feels a shiver run down his spine, but he shakes it off and goes back to practice, shooting you a quick text to make sure you’re okay.

the next break he gets, he leaps for his phone and sees that you haven’t replied. he tells mingi he’s stepping out again, and he nods, saying he might go grab food with the members before they continue. hongjoong waves him off, trying to figure out if he should text you again or just go find you. he opts for the second one, and he has to wander a little to figure out where you are. he checks your office, nothing. understandable, considering you’re having a bad day. then he looks at the balcony, because that’s your go to hideaway in the office. still nothing. he finally finds you in the last place he’d think to check, the wardrobe room. surrounded by years of stage outfits, donated pieces, and looks curated for each member, he sees you hidden in a rack of old kingdom outfits. you look up at the sound of his footsteps, giving him a half hearted smile as he gets closer.

“hi sugar,” he says softly. “what’s going on?”

“bad day,” you shrug. “sorry i’ve been mia.”

“s’okay,” he tells you, hand coming up to rub your back. “have you eaten?”

“not yet,” you shake your head. “haven’t had time. i overslept, and uh, got into some trouble. so a lunch break isn’t really in my schedule today.” something about the way you said that makes hongjoong think there’s something you’re leaving out, but he doesn’t push it.

“i can go grab you something?” he offers. “i was probably gonna go to 7/11, do you want some snacks? that way you don’t have to stop and eat, you can just eat as you work.”

“okay,” you nod, and hongjoong smiles. he’s about to leave when he allows himself to sweep his eyes over you, and his smile grows as he notices you’re decked out in his clothes.

“you thief,” he says, and you chuckle. a small victory, considering hongjoong can tell you had been crying at some point. “went shopping in my closet, hm?”

“i didn’t have time to go home and change,” you explain. “so i had to pull some stuff out of the archive and prevent the world’s worst walk of shame.”

“well you look cute,” he says, coming closer. “sexy, actually. i love it when you wear my clothes.”

“really?” you ask, a glimmer in your eyes. “how sexy?”

“depends,” hongjoong replies, “let me see your panties.”

“joong!”

“no, baby, remember what i said last night?”

“oh, when you were being nasty?”

“yeah,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “show me.”

“hongjoong-”

“y/n,” he warns, and you slowly pull your pants down, followed soon after by your stained panties. hongjoong knocks your legs further apart before he falls to his knees, and you gasp, trying to pull him back up.

“kim hongjoong, stop that right now,” you hiss. “someone could come in here.”

“no they can’t, i locked the door,” he says, his hands sliding around your waist to grab you by the ass. he looks at your pussy, still dirty from the night before, and he sighs. “you’re perfect for me, baby,” he whispers, admiring the way your pussy clenches at his words. he’s too focused on your cum stained lips to notice the way your eyes well up at the complicated things you’re feeling, but before you can get caught up in your thoughts hongjoong swipes his tongue between your lips to distract you. he groans at the taste of himself lingering on your cunt, and he dives back in to clean you up. his hands on your ass help him grind you onto his tongue, and you let out a shaky moan when he swipes over your clit. he stays there, alternating between light kitten licks that make your legs jolt or harsh sucks that send a strike of electricity straight through you. hongjoong is relentless, playing with your clit before kissing and sucking his way down to your entrance, admiring the way your slick has coated your lips for him. “you’re delicious,” he growls, tongue slurping obscenely at your entrance, and your legs buckle at the feeling. he holds onto you tighter, trying to keep you up while he fucks his tongue into you.

“hongjoong, too much,” you whine. “‘m gonna come.”

“good,” he grumbles, detaching from you long enough to look up at you between your legs. “that’s kinda the point, sugar.”

“but-”

“stop talking,” he orders, kissing right on top of your clit. “just enjoy it baby.” he holds his thumb up to you, and you take it in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the warm digit. hongjoong brings it down to your clit, drawing lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he goes back to making out with your cunt. it’s getting harder for you to stand on your own, so you grip your hands into his hair for some leverage. you’re grinding down into his face, your arousal coating his chin as he eats you like a man starved. you’re staring down at him, mesmerized, and when his eyes flick up to meet yours it sends you over the edge. you let out a choked moan, and hongjoong buries his tongue in your cunt to collect every drop of your release. when he’s satisfied that you’re done, he slowly pulls away from you, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. he stands and brings your pants back up for you, helping you get dressed again before he leaves.

“i thought you were getting our lunch,” you say breathlessly, and hongjoong smirks like the devil as he responds.

“i can’t get that at 7/11.”

you spend the rest of the day keeping your distance from hongjoong, which isn’t hard considering both of your schedules. you’ve got to start packing tour outfits, and he’s in back to back rehearsals until late tonight. you stay after everyone else on your team leaves just to make up for the time you lost this morning, and you’re running through the building trying to keep up with all your packing lists. there’s a pair of shoes missing, and if san left them in the rehearsal room again you’re gonna kill him. so you’re running from room to room trying to find these boots, and as you take a corner too fast you literally run into hongjoong.

“whoa, where’s the fire sugar?” he asks with a smirk as he steadies you, admiring the way you’ve pulled your hair back to keep it out of your face. you were going to respond, but you see a manager poke his head out of a rehearsal room so you duck away, mumbling to hongjoong about the shoes. he’s left confused, but just writes it off as you being stressed. he figures he’ll have time to ask about it tonight.

except, he doesn’t get a chance to do that. you end up leaving shortly after your literal run-in with joong, and you shoot him a text that you’ll be going to sleep as soon as you get home which is basically code for bye, see you tomorrow, please don’t text me and wake me up. hongjoong’s feelings are a little hurt, but again, he knows how stressful work is right now, it’s just as bad (if not worse) for him, so he takes this as a night of rest and decides to bother you double time tomorrow.

when it’s finally time for the guys to leave, hongjoong finds seonghwa and waits with him for their car. hongjoong immediately opens your texts, wanting to tell you he’s on the way home, but then he remembers you’re already asleep and puts his phone up.

“y/n coming over tonight?” hwa asks through a yawn.

“nope,” hongjoong replies curtly. “we both need our rest.”

“gross.”

“not like that. well, a little but that’s not the reason. y/n had a long day today so i’m sure this extra sleep is needed,” joong explains, and hwa nods.

“yeah, i heard one of the managers saying she got quite the talking to this morning,” seonghwa says, side-eying hongjoong. “any idea what that was about?”

“no,” hongjoong shakes his head. “we didn’t talk much today. busy, you know.”

“well, i just know i’d be shitting bricks if my girlfriend was over and a manager walked in on us cuddled up on the couch,” hwa mumbles, and hongjoong bucks up at his words.

“y/n isn’t my girlfriend,” he says, sounding unsure even as he says it. “we’re...friends. close friends-”

“who suck and fuck every chance they get?” hwa asks, eyebrows raised. “not to mention the sappy way you talk to her, and the way you look at her like she makes all the flowers grow.”

“what? i do not,” hongjoong scoffs.

“do too.”

“stop that,” joong grumbles. “i don’t know what..this..is, honestly. i just know i really care for y/n.”

“then maybe you should be more careful about being seen by other staff,” seonghwa warns. “i’m just saying, if they had to get rid of someone because they find out you two are canoodling, it wouldn’t be you.”

“yeah,” hongjoong says, lost in thought. was that why you were off today? had the manager this morning noticed something, and gone on to snitch about it? hongjoong’ll wring his neck if that’s the case, but he knows for sure he needs to talk to you asap. he needs to know what’s going on, right now.

before your alarm even goes off the next day, you’re pulled out of your sleep by your phone constantly ringing. you thought you heard it in your dreams, going off once then going silent. then it went off again, pulling you out of your sleep, confused. then it rang again and that’s when you realized it was actually happening, so you reach for it and answer.

“hello?” you ask groggily.

“open the door,” hongjoong says on the other end.

“hongjoong?”

“yeah, it’s me, come let me in,” he says quickly, then adds, “pretty please.”

“hongjoong, i-”

“please, y/n,” he says again. “i need to know what’s going on.”

“ok, just a second.”

soon, hongjoong is sitting at your kitchen table, watching as you move around making your morning coffee. like always, you make his first even though he didn’t ask for one, and when you finally have your own cup you take a seat across from him.

“so,” you start. “what’s up? why’d you come here so early?”

“what happened yesterday?” he asks. “like really happened. i heard you in a meeting, and when i found you in the storage room it looked like you had been crying. and then not wanting to see me last night...” he trails off, looking back up at you. “what’s going on?”

“um,” you clear your throat. “well, uh, so. apparently kq has been onto us for sometime. they’ve all had their suspicions, some managers said suddenly you were a lot happier and less mean-”

“whoa, i’m not mean!”

“their words not mine,” you clarify, and keep going. “they said they could tell a difference in you, after...uh, after i was assigned to be your main stylist. and then they just noticed us getting closer, i guess? so when the manager walked in on us yesterday, he saw, um, he saw my stuff by the door, and that’s when he went higher up and told them there might be something going on. when i was late on top of all that, i got called into a meeting as soon as i got to work and it was made very clear my job is on the line if i don’t stop..whatever this is.”

“wow,�� hongjoong sighs. “so, what is this?”

“hongjoong,” you whine, and his heart clenches. “i don’t want to define this right now. i just told you i could get fired if we keep this up and you’re worried about a label?”

“well, yeah,” he begins, “because if we’re just messing around then that’s harder for us to defend if we get in trouble again, but if you’re actually my girlfriend then-”

“you don’t get it joong,” you cut him off. “it was very clear that i was the only one in trouble. they never even mentioned you yesterday, the entire time it was just about what i’ve done wrong by getting involved with you. you’re safe, i’m the one they can kick out if they see me as a threat.”

“you’re not a threat though,” he says quietly. “you’re my y/n.”

you reach across your little kitchen table, squeezing his hand in yours. you hold his gaze, his eyes hopeful, and sadly he notices that your eyes tell a different story.

“i’m sorry, hongjoong, but..i can’t do this,” you say shakily. “i need this job. i love this job. and i don’t want to do anything to risk that, not right now. i’m..i’m sorry.” hongjoong holds your gaze for a moment longer, but he can tell your mind is made up. he softly slips his hand out of yours, puts his dirty mug in the dishwasher, and then walks out the front door.

you didn’t realize how hard it would be to watch hongjoong walk away like that, but you knew it would be hard facing him at work with the way things had to end. a couple days after he stomped out of your apartment, you find yourself doing the final fitting for their tour outfits, the adjustments made and needing one final look. you’ve got hongjoong to your left and yeosang to your right, but they’re the only two you have to take care of today. jongho with his perfect proportions didn’t need any changes save for a new pair of shoes, and he’s already tried those on.

you don’t want to get too close to hongjoong (either from fear of attraction or the fear that you’ll internally combust) so you spend a lot of time helping yeosang and catching up with him, asking him about the tour and just being friendly, nothing more. but hongjoong watches on, stewing silently as he tries on piece after piece, just barely grunting out your name to get your approval before he moves on to the next. when he’s tried the last piece, you tell him he’s free to go, and he’s out of the room faster than you can give him the all clear. you turn back to yeosang, who shrugs, saying something about how hongjoong always gets bitchy under a lot of stress. you laugh with him, knowing that’s not the only reason for joong’s sour mood, but there’s not much you can do about it now.

not long after that, hongjoong is holed up in his studio when he hears a knock at the door. he doesn’t want company, but he tells them to come in anyway. it’s seonghwa, who shuffles in and sits on the couch behind hongjoong.

“is there any reason why y/n is looking at your tour outfits all sad?” he asks.

“no?” hongjoong replies. “not my business.”

“hm,” seonghwa huffs. “since when is y/n not your business.”

“since i got dumped last night,” hongjoong replies, turning around to face his friend. “listen dude, i don’t really want to talk about it right now, ok? kind of still in the pissed off phase.”

“i heard about the meeting yesterday,” hwa says, making hongjoong groan.

“great, so now all our business is just floating around the company, that’s mature of everyone.”

“so is sleeping with your stylist.”

“hey, i wasn’t just sleeping with her, ok?” hongjoong defends himself. “like i said last night..i really care about her.”

“then what are you gonna do?”

“nothing,” hongjoong shrugs. “i tried last night, she didn’t want my help. so i guess it ends here.”

“no it doesn’t,” hwa shakes his head. “you two won’t be able to stay away from each other long.”

“thanks for having faith in me man.”

“i give you till the end of the week, tops,” hwa says. “but at the latest, before we leave for tour. i know it would piss you off to leave before you’ve cleaned this up.”

“get out of my studio.”

“don’t get mad at me cause i’m right!” seonghwa shrieks, but he stands and walks to the door anyway. “i’m just saying, if it’s worth fighting for, you should. you deserve some love. and a good lay, but if you could start keeping that to yourself i’d appreciate it.”

turns out hongjoong doesn’t have to worry about fixing this before they leave for tour. he heard through one of the managers that you would be coming with them, taking the place of one of the more senior stylists. and of course, the news of you and hongjoong hooking up has spread throughout the company, so you’ve been assigned to seonghwa and yeosang for the tour. getting used to the new role, and the hectic life of being on tour, you haven’t had time to stop and think how much you really miss hongjoong. your job has kept you pretty busy the first few stops, and you don’t even have time to catch his eye in the dressing rooms because you feel like you’re so all over the place. it worries hongjoong, seeing you so stressed, but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

he also has to watch you be all buddy buddy with seonghwa and yeosang, getting close to do touch ups on make up or fix their outfits in between stages. while he knows that’s your job, you have to do those things, he also thinks about how you chose your job over him just about every minute of every day. it’s hard for hongjoong to admit, but he was down bad for you, and he’s having a hard time adjusting.

one night, after an off day in london, a lot of the staff went out with the guys to a lowkey restaurant. hongjoong was exhausted, but he went anyway. not because wooyoung basically begged him, but because he wanted a chance to be around you like nothing had happened. if he just happened to sit with you at dinner, that wouldn’t turn heads, would it?

except, hongjoong is so excited by this idea he gets to the restaurant way before you. he wonders where you are, what you’ve been doing all day, would you even come to dinner at all? if he could, he would save you a seat at his table, but he can’t do that. instead he joins seonghwa and some others, scanning the menu absentmindedly until he hears the bell ding above the door. he looks up instinctively, and does a double take when he sees you. you look like you’re glowing, a couple shopping bags in tow and a new bag slung over your shoulder that hongjoong recognizes as a piece from your favorite designer’s new collection.

“oooh, y/n, you bought us presents?” wooyoung asks, sitting next to hongjoong. he doesn’t miss the way your eyes glance over him first before looking at wooyoung to respond.

“no?” you reply. “these are all for me, you wouldn’t fit.” you approach the two tables taken up by the boys and the staff, and your eyes linger on hongjoong’s table making sure there’s no seats there before another stylist calls you over to sit next to her. you shove your bags (carefully) under the table, telling everyone sitting there that you’re not against violence if they mess with them. you settle into your seat and look up, locking eyes with hongjoong. he’s directly across from you at the other table, a window right between the members to give hongjoong a perfect view of you. you give him a tightlipped smile, heart constricting the longer you look at him.

“nice bag,” he mouths, pointing down to your purse. you smile genuinely then, because of course he would recognize it. you had talked about getting a matching set together, something subtle but cool to signify your...bond. you still don’t know how to define whatever it was you had with hongjoong, but you need to stop reminding yourself of it before your stomach turns at the thought. you look down at the menu, trying to ignore the feeling of hongjoong’s eyes on you all night.

the next day, there’s a show. you’re doing your job like normal, adjusting things here and there on yeosang’s first stage outfit, laughing at some silly joke he made. you catch yourself laughing around him a lot, not aware that he’s doing it to cheer you up. you just assume it’s yeosang being yeosang, but he sees how torn up hongjoong is so he knows you must be going through it just as bad.

after you get yeosang and seonghwa settled into their new world robes, you head to another dressing room in search of more safety pins. you didn’t think about whose dressing room it was, you just knew the more organized stylists worked in here and you could always pilfer supplies from them. you sneak in and hover over the table by the door, expecting the room to be full and that you can just slip in and back out. but you hear someone clear their throat, and your skin runs cold when you look up and see hongjoong watching you through the mirrors on the wall.

“hey sugar,” he says, a sad smile on his face. you whip around to face him, heartbeat accelerating as he walks closer to you.

“hongjoong, i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were in here,” you try not to stammer out. “i just needed. um. i got what i needed. so i’ll just..go.” you try to spin back around and out the door, but hongjoong grabs your wrist too quickly, pulling you dangerously close to his chest.

“what’s the rush?” he whispers into your ear, brushing your hair to the side.

“th-the concert, joong, you need to-”

“i need to talk to you,” he says sternly, turning you around in his arms.

“what are you doing?” you ask stubbornly, backing up to the door, which is a bad move because hongjoong just follows you until you’re caged in, his chest pressed to yours. you register the faint sound of him locking the door behind you, and your intake of breath makes him smirk.

“having fun?” he asks calmly, and you look at him confused. “on tour? it’s your first time, it looks like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“it’s...alright,” you say tentatively. “i’m exhausted, but i like it so far.”

“that’s good,” hongjoong nods, picking up a piece of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. “and your new...assignment?”

“are you referring to my promotion?” you ask, and you’re just a little bit satisfied by the surprised look on hongjoong’s face. “yeah, you don’t know everything, mister. they promoted me, i’m one of the head stylists now. that’s why i went on a shopping spree yesterday.”

“wow, y/n, that’s..that’s incredible, congratulations,” hongjoong stutters, and you smile at him sweetly. “i’m really happy for you. you deserve this more than anyone. really.”

“well thank you,” you mumble, your head dropping to ignore his intense stare. “so i hope you understand...why i had to...why this was my only choice.”

hongjoong lifts your chin delicately, noticing with a gasp that you’re crying. he’s quick to wipe your tears, and he moves to wrap you up in his arms. you push him away, shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes more. he carefully reaches out for your hands, bringing them down and rubbing soothing patterns over your knuckles.

“i guess i understand,” he sighs. “you’re just so smart and sexy and good at your job.” you roll your eyes, trying to pull your hands back but he holds tighter, squeezing your hands in his. “i knew you’d get a chance like this someday. but, come on, did they have to place you with seonghwa and yeosang?”

“hongjoong you’re insufferable,” you laugh, your head falling forward to land on his shoulder. the alarms start going off in your mind when you realize what you’ve done, but they start shrieking and howling when you feel hongjoong’s hands leaving yours in favor of curling around your waist. you lift your head up to look at him and say, “you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“hm, no?” he considers for a moment, hands sliding down to squeeze your ass teasingly. “i’m still crazy about you, so no, i have not.”

“hongjoong, we shouldn’t,” you hiss, shifting enough in his hold that you can feel how wet you are just from being this close to him again.

“but we both want to,” he says, and when you don’t disagree, hongjoong smiles the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen. “stop me now, sugar. if you really don’t want this as much as i do, say something and i’ll stop. promise. i can walk away right now-”

“we have to be quick,” you whisper out, and hongjoong feels himself harden at the thought of you being just as needy for him as he is for you. his hands squeeze your ass one more time, then he taps your cheeks to signal for you to jump. you wrap your legs around him easily, and he puts you down on the counter in front of one of the vanities. there’s a moment where you’re both staring, unsure of what to do now that you’ve gotten this far, so you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “kiss me.”

hongjoong’s hands cup your face, pulling you up to meet him as his lips crash into yours. it’s sloppy, and in seconds you’re breathing hard into each other’s mouths, hongjoong licking at your lips to let him in. his hands brush over your chest and you gasp, granting him the access he needs to finally taste you again. he groans into your mouth, your tongue meeting his for the first time in what felt like years. he keeps playing with your chest, but he eventually gets tired of the fabric in the way and moves to take your shirt off. you have to physically push him to make him stop, and with a gasp for air you manage to say, “we can’t get undressed. you have to be onstage soon.”

“ugh, fine,” he groans, leaning in to kiss you one more time. then, into your mouth, he growls, “i need you to turn around for me. over the vanity.” he steps back, undoing his pants as you bend over for him and pull your pants and panties down. he groans at the sight of your pussy glistening for him, and he tugs on your hair to get your attention. “look back at me. don’t look in the mirror, i want you just looking at me, ok baby?” you nod, eyes locked on his as he pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your wet entrance. “i don’t have a condom, is that ok?”

“god, hongjoong, yes, just fuck me before i regret this-” and you choke on your words as he thrusts himself fully inside, the warmth almost driving him insane. he could never forget what it feels like to be inside you, but he sure missed it. the way you clench around him, the way your ass looks delectable as he pulls out and thrusts back in, and your moans. oh god, he could come at the sound of your voice alone. once you got your voice back, you started chanting his name, your hair falling down around your face as he rocks into you repeatedly. your eyes stay on his the entire time, and he’s so overwhelmed by the feeling of you wrapped around him again that he stops inside you to take some breaths. he lifts your right leg up, placing it on the vanity with your upper body so he can get deeper. your pants and panties fall off your leg, and you stumble out of them completely to find a comfortable position. when it looks like you’re settled again, hongjoong thrusts slowly, pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“i missed this baby, i missed you,” he breathes out before he keeps going, pounding into you at a faster pace than before. in this position, he’s hitting as deep as he can, and you’re back to a blubbering mess. you’re babbling out his name, various cuss words, and repeating everyone once in a while how he has a perfect cock. watching you fall apart around him sends hongjoong into overdrive, and he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure you keep your eyes on him. you clench around him at the sight of his animalistic gaze, and he groans out, “fuck, keep doing that and i’ll come.”

“give it to me, please,” you beg. “please, hongjoong, please, come for me baby, i need it, please!”

“you want me to come inside you baby?” and you nod. “uh uh, need to hear you say it.”

“fuck me, fuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. hongjoong pulls on your hair again to bring your attention back to him. “please baby, come inside me, wanna feel your come dripping down my pussy, please, i need it-” and then he’s coming, coating your walls with so much come he’s afraid it’ll start dripping out before he even finishes. feeling hongjoong coming inside you sets off your own release with a choked moan, and hongjoong thrusts softly to guide you both through it. when you’re done spasming around him, he pulls out carefully, his cock covered in your releases. he bends down to grab your panties, wiping himself off with the fabric. you carefully get down from the counter, feeling hongjoong’s come leaking from you already. you look down for your pants, but when you can’t find your panties you look up to him quickly.

“where are they?” you ask accusingly, and he just smiles.

“somewhere safe,” he says seriously, and you push his arm.

“hongjoong, give them back, i can feel you dripping out of me already-”

“then you got what you wanted, right sugar?” he asks, and you blush profusely. “if memory serves, you asked for this.”

“i hate you,” you grumble, pulling your shorts up anyway.

“yeah, about that,” hongjoong says, and the sound of someone jiggling the door handle makes you both freeze. you grip onto hongjoong tightly, complete fear in your eyes as whoever it is keeps trying to door. hongjoong steps closer and tries to calmly ask, “who is it? i’m, uh, changing.”

“it’s me,” seonghwa replies, and you both let out a sigh of relief. “i don’t care what you’re doing, but wrap it up. five minutes to mics, dude.”

“o-ok, thanks,” hongjoong replies, and you push him toward the door. in a hushed tone, he turns to you and says, “hold on sugar, i have something to tell you.”

“we don’t really have time to talk about this hongjoong, we’re close to getting caught again, and we can’t-”

“i think i’m in love with you,” hongjoong whispers, and if it hadn’t been just the two of you in the room you would’ve missed it. you stop cold, staring at him with your mouth slightly open.

“you’re joking,” is the only thing you can think to say.

“i’m not yeosang,” hongjoong says coldly, and you scoff.

“you can’t just say that, joong,” you tell him. “you have to mean it-”

“you think i don’t mean it?” he asks, hurt. he watches you to try and read your expression, but you’re not giving him any context clues, so he sighs, “whatever. i love you. take it or leave it.”

you watch as he unlocks the door and slips out, not another word or glance your way. you give it a few seconds, listening intently for the sounds of anyone outside. when you think the coast is clear, you grab the things you came here for in the first place and slip back into the hallway unnoticed.

after the concert, you’re busy getting the last of seonghwa and yeosang’s outfits packed up for the next stop. like always, seonghwa stops by and asks if you need any help, but you politely decline and he hangs around anyway, telling you little stories about the show so you have some company.

“hongjoong had a really great night too,” seonghwa points out, eyeing you carefully as he goes on. “he seemed very motivated, for some reason.”

“hm, good for him,” you hum, and then you nod to the case seonghwa is leaning on. “can you open that for me?”

“sure,” he says, helping you while he watches hongjoong walk by behind you. he doesn’t think anything of seonghwa hanging around you, that’s really the only person he doesn’t mind you being close with aside from him. he just nods at hwa and he nods back, something unspoken between them that you don’t pick up on. “did you get to see any of the show tonight? i think you would’ve liked it.”

“ah, no,” you sigh. “i was a little tired so i just rested back here. i’m sure you guys did great though.”

“hongjoong especially,” seonghwa reiterates, and you look at him apprehensively.

“yeah, you mentioned that. listen, i should get these to the truck-”

“i’m just saying, for whatever reason, tonight of all nights, hongjoong had his best show of the tour,” seonghwa says, looking directly at you. “he’s like a changed man.”

“what are you trying to imply, seonghwa?” you finally ask. “because i don’t think i’m getting it.”

“he’s better when you’re with him!” he whisper shouts. “now i don’t totally agree with you two risking your careers over this, but he cares about you enough that he’s willing to do it. he’s a better person when you’re in his life. really in it. i think i’m the only one that knows why, but everyone noticed how different he was tonight after he suspiciously came out of a locked dressing room,” a pointed look at you. “so just think about how you want this to end up. you have to be around each other a lot anyway, so why spend it pretending you hate each other when you clearly don’t?”

you’re quiet for a moment, focusing on the clasp of the case in front of you. “didn’t know you were hongjoong’s relationship doctor.”

“oh, you’re perfect for each other,” seonghwa groans. “he told me the same thing when i tried to talk to him. don’t believe me, fine, but don’t expect a clear sign like this again. hongjoong is gonna keep his distance if you don’t make a move.” he starts walking away then, but you calling his name softly brings him back. he smiles smugly and asks, “yes?”

“um,” you clear your throat, taking a few steps closer to him so no one will overhear. “uh, do you know if he’s got his own room tonight?”

“my stuff’s already in with yunho and san,” seonghwa replies. “because i am a good friend, not a relationship doctor. you two need to do the doctor part yourselves, i am simply the kind soul who doesn’t want to see two people he cares about be miserable for the rest of forever.”

“you’re so giving,” you tease, and then genuinely, “thank you. we’ll talk tonight.”

“good luck,” seonghwa smiles at you before he leaves.

back at the hotel, you spent quite some time cleaning yourself up. you weren’t stalling on purpose, but you kept finding things to do before you went to hongjoong’s room. you know he stays up late, so you have time, but you need to pull the band aid off and just go. you’d like to have an idea of what to say when you see him, but when you think about it your mind just becomes a tangled mess. as you get ready to leave, an idea pops into your head, and you take care of that quickly before heading a few floors up to hongjoong’s room.

you took the elevator further down the hallway, so hopefully any other staff still heading to their rooms won’t see you on the main elevator. you have to walk a little farther to hongjoong’s room though, so you have plenty of time for your heart to start racing the closer you get. as you reach up to knock on his door, it feels like your heart will beat out of your chest at any moment, but seconds later when hongjoong opens the door, it completely calms. he smiles, unsure of what he’s seeing as he starts to speak, but you cut him off with a soft, “surprise?”

“it sure is,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. he looks you up and down, all cozy in the hotel robe but still with your battered keroppi slippers on your feet. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

“i think we need to talk,” you tell him. “can i come in?”

“listen, y/n, i said everything i needed to say,” he replies. “if you have anything to add, you can tell me right here.”

“well,” you start, and he’s watching your face intently, not noticing your hands trailing down to the belt of the robe. “it’s kinda cold out here, i’m feeling a draft,” you say as you undo the belt, pulling one side of the robe back so hongjoong can see you don’t have anything on underneath. “can i come in now?”

“you’re gonna kill me,” he whispers, hand reaching out to grip your bare waist as he pulls you into the room with him. he closes the door quietly behind him, and you stay close by so you can grab his hand when he’s done. wordlessly, you take him to the bed you assume is his and stand before it. more of the robe has fallen open, and hongjoong blatantly checks you out. “alright. your turn to talk.”

“i...can’t,” you start, and hongjoong looks on with a hurt in his eyes that you wish you could fix. "i’m not good with words, so i’ve been wracking my brain for what to say and i can’t come up with anything good.”

“you could say you love me back,” hongjoong mutters, and you groan at his words, grabbing his hands.

“hongjoong, please,” you whine. “i can’t put into words how i feel, so i wanted to show you.”

“show me?” he asks, intrigued. “show me how?”

“well,” you sigh, playing with his fingers. “what do you want to do with me?”

“sugar, what i want to do with you would take me days,” he warns.

“hm, we only have a couple of hours. what do you want to start with?” you ask teasingly, staring at him patiently. you can see him working through this in his head, and you desperately hope he doesn’t tell you to leave.

“on your knees for me,” he finally says, and you obey instantly. you sink down in front of him, your robe falling off your shoulders and pooling around you. “good girl. hands in your lap, that’s it, and keep them there. want you to watch, no touching.”

“hongjoong, what-”

“ah ah,” he tsks, undoing his pants. “you’re gonna watch me get off, because this is what you wanted right? you didn’t want us to be together anymore, and we can’t touch if we’re not together.”

“baby, please,” you beg. “what happened in the dressing room then?”

“what happened in the dressing room was a mistake,” he says, and you feel a pang in your chest as he pulls his boxers down just enough to free his half hard cock. he starts stroking himself as he goes on, “unless you want to talk about it?”

“i-i don’t know...”

“right,” he hums, picking up speed as he gets harder. “guess you just have to sit there then. thanks for the pretty view, sugar.” he punctuates his words with a step closer to you, his tip dangerously close to your lips. all you’d have to do is lean forward just a little to take him in you mouth and- “stop that,” he says from above you, watching intently. “look up at me, don’t be so cock hungry.”

you whimper at his words, looking up to his sharp eyes. he winks at you when your eyes meet, and when he starts meeting his pumping hand with little thrusts you watch as his face contorts into pleasure, a moan slipping past his lips. you even catch the slightest hint of a smirk after because he’s enjoying himself so much. while his eyes are locked on yours, an idea pops into your head, and you wriggle your hips just enough to spread your legs below you. to hongjoong it just looks like you’re getting comfortable. as he focuses on your chest and how your nipples are reacting to the cold air, he misses the way your hand trails down to your core to meet your dripping folds. you rub your middle finger through your slick and make a swipe at your clit, a quiet moan traveling up through your chest. hongjoong stops immediately, glaring down at you as he watches you play with yourself. he’s stopped fucking his hand and the only noise in the room is the sound of your quickened breath and the mess between your legs.

“what are you doing?” he asks calmly.

“nothing,” you reply with a shaky breath, slipping a finger inside your entrance to stroke at your walls. “why’d you stop?”

“you’re not listening to me-” hongjoong starts, but you cut him off.

“ah ah,” you mock him. “i can’t touch you. doesn’t mean i can’t, fuck, doesn’t mean i can’t touch myself.”

“fine,” he decides, stepping away from you to lean against the bed. “i wanna see you get off with your fingers alone.”

“fine,” you agree, leaning back on one hand while bringing your other hand up to your lips. you suck on two of your fingers, holding hongjoong’s gaze while he strokes himself lazily. you bring your fingers back to your core, circling your entrance before you start fucking yourself on them, already knowing this won’t be enough. you try working yourself up by rolling your hips, stroking that soft spot inside you, but it’s not enough. you sit up so you can bring your other hand down to your clit, and hongjoong just watches on amused. he’s wondering how long this little show can last, but he’ll appreciate every second of it.

“feel good baby?” he asks mockingly, and you moan maybe too loud to try to convince him that it does. it’s not that it doesn’t feel good, it does, it’s just not as good as you know hongjoong could be. “how long will you keep this up?”

“keep what up?” you grit your teeth, grinding down into your own touch, legs jerking at the oversensitivity. the room is quiet for a moment as you feel yourself getting closer to a peak you know you can’t reach, but amidst the silence you hear hongjoong calling for you.

“baby,” he says softly, and you look up to a smirking hongjoong. “proposition for ya.”

“what?”

“make me come with that mouth of yours, and then i’ll help you out.”

“thought we couldn’t touch,” you bite back, gasping as you pull your fingers out of your cunt. “don’t want you to make another mistake, baby.”

“just shut up and come here,” hongjoong growls, staring down at you with a welcome challenge in his eyes. you shuffle the short distance forward to bring you closer to his waiting cock, and you swipe your fingers through your folds once more before wrapping the same hand around his dick. hongjoong moans lowly as he watches you work him in your hands, getting incredibly hard as he waits for you to wrap your lips around him.

“that’s enough playing around sugar,” he says sternly. “now swallow it.”

you obey quickly, using the hand that’s wrapped around him to guide him to your lips. you nip at the tip playfully, and he bucks up to make you hurry, his cock slapping against your lips obscenely. you open wide for him, doing your best to keep your lips securely around his shaft. you bob up and down quickly, encouraged by the promise of getting off if you can make him come. the only sounds in the room are hongjoong’s low pants and your mouth swallowing around him, but it’s music to his ears. he’s missed having you so intimately, but more than that he’s missed you.

you can tell hongjoong is getting close, his chest rising and falling quickly and his dick twitching in your mouth, heavy on your tongue. you pull him out briefly, gathering a few breaths before you look up to him and tell him hoarsely, “i want you to fuck my throat, joongie.” you open your mouth up to him again, tongue hanging loosely, and he guides his cock to your waiting lips.

“grab onto my thighs baby, you’ll need it,” he warns you, and you take his advice. as soon as you’ve got a hold of him, he starts fucking your throat, making you gag. you try to swallow around him with each thrust, driving him crazy enough until you know he can’t take it anymore. you think he’s about to come down your throat and you get excited at the promise of tasting him again, but he pulls away from you completely.

“what the fuck,” you whine, precum and spit coating your chin. “was i not doing a good job?”

“no, you did well considering you can’t use your mouth to say what i want to hear,” he says meanly, and deflated, you fall back onto your calves.

“so that’s it?” you ask, and hongjoong laughs at you.

“sugar, we’re just getting started,” he smiles.

“but i don’t get to taste your come?” you whine, and he shakes his head. “where are you gonna come then?” and you watch as hongjoong reaches into his pocket, pulling out a crumbled piece of fabric. he shakes it out and you notice it’s your panties from earlier. you watch as he lays it over his hand before bringing it down to his cock, pumping himself a couple times before his body shudders and he comes into your panties. when he finishes, he looks at his hand, sighing as he holds it up to you.

“open,” he says simply, and you listen, your mouth falling open for him once again. he carefully shoves your panties into your mouth, his come coating your tongue as he says, “need you to be quiet for this next part, ok? unless you wanna give my manager a show. and then you’ll really get your way, huh? they’ll never let us within a mile of each other if they could hear how i’m about to make you feel. now over my lap, baby. time for your punishment.” you make a sound of protest, looking at him confused, and he answers, “you broke the rules sugar. you touched me.”

you try to complain, call him names, accuse him of playing games with you, but you can’t. instead you just do as he says, laying facedown into the mattress over his lap with your ass on display. his hand instantly cracks over your ass, making you jolt and squeak into your gag.

“i’d tell you to count, but i wouldn’t be able to hear you,” he teases, running his hand over your ass cheeks. “so i’ll keep track for you. that’s one, you get nine more.” you squirm in his hold as his hand lands on your ass over and over again, whining at the pain yet grinding down into his thighs to relieve the growing pleasure between your legs. he notices this, and in between spanks he starts dipping two fingers into your core, groaning at the way your arousal drips down into his palm. you forget that you’re even being punished, enjoying the way he’s stroking your walls, when he pulls his hand from you completely and instead smacks your cunt. you scream into your gag, pushing your face into the mattress as your hips buck into his touch. “you liked that sugar? my baby’s so slutty for me. try to scream again, whore.” and he smacks your cunt again, the sharp shock to your core sending you closer to the edge. without warning, he plunges three fingers deep into your core, his free hand rubbing brutally over your clit as you writhe in his hold and start to come. your moans reach a pitch so high you can’t even hear yourself anymore, and hongjoong keeps fucking you through your release until he hears you whimper in overstimulation. he carefully removes his hands from your core, pulling your hair to make you look at him as he cleans your release off of his fingers. gently, he helps you lay completely on the bed, whispering, “i’ll be right back.”

you register hongjoong coming back to you to remove your panties from your mouth. then you feel his hands on your hips with a wet washcloth that he uses to clean you up. you start drifting off to sleep as you feel him place a kiss on each hip, whispering something up to you that you don’t catch. he lets you rest there, grabbing a change of clothes before he heads to the bathroom to wash off. you don’t know how long you were asleep for, but when you wake up again you hear the water running and you don’t see hongjoong anywhere. you get up, wincing at the pain in your lower half, looking for your robe and slippers so you can go back to your room. as you finish, the water shuts off, and you hastily make your way to the door. you’re halfway to the elevator when hongjoong comes back into the room, his face falling when he sees an empty bed. but really, what did he expect? you didn’t love him. you cared more about your job than you cared about him, so he should’ve known this would happen. as he moves around doing his nightly routine, trying to forget the day’s events that all involved you.

the tour stops that follow are exhausting. there’s shows, there’s fansigns, the boys have other commitments in between, and it’s impossible for you to get a moment alone with hongjoong. that doesn’t stop him from stealing glances at you every chance he gets, and you do your best to pretend that doesn’t affect you. you’re trying to set a plan into motion, because you’ve finally decided what you want this to be.

so when the tour makes its way to paris, you get to work. you’ve been making calls and setting up meetings to make sure this all happens the way you want, so you’ll be busy today. the boys have a rest day, and while you relish in the freedom of not being confined to their schedule, you start making things right. meanwhile, hongjoong finds himself bored in his room, wondering what you’re up to.

he leaves his hotel room, wandering around trying to work up the nerve to find you. as he heads to the elevator, san pops his head out of his room and calls for hongjoong. some of the boys are watching a movie together and then they’re gonna go shopping, and san won’t let hongjoong leave without joining them for at least a couple hours. part one of the plan, done.

while joong is being forced to enjoy his group’s company, seonghwa shoots you a cryptic text that you assume means the plan is going well. you check your phone happily knowing everything is working smoothly so far. the hard part comes next, and you psych yourself up as you head into the cafe you found just down the street. you smile as you see some of your coworkers waiting for you, and you take a deep breath before joining them for what’s sure to be a difficult conversation.

that night, hongjoong comes back to his hotel room tired, arms laden with new designer pieces he can’t wait to wear. specifically he can’t wait for you to see what he found, because he knows you’ll appreciate everything as much as he does. he’s about to dump his bags and just text you, inviting you to his room, but he stops when he sees a note on his pillow. it’s an invitation to a paris fashion week event with one of his favorite designers. he’s not sure how this could have happened, but he knows you made it possible. it warms hongjoong’s heart to know you did something like this for him, and then his face warms at the thought of attending this with you. he’s worrying about what to wear to the event when he gets a text. he jumps to read it, smiling when he sees your name lighting his screen.

“meet me tomorrow before breakfast for a fitting?”

to say you’re nervous is an understatement. you barely slept the night before because you wanted to make sure everything today runs smoothly. you’d hate to go to all this trouble just for a little mishap to ruin it all, so you’ve been worrying since you sent that text to hongjoong yesterday.

and hongjoong? he’s fine. he slept like a baby last night knowing he’d spend most of the day with you, and as he gets ready to see you he’s calm and collected. he thinks he’s got this whole thing figured out, and he’s ready to ease all your worries with the plan he’s laid out in his head. you asked him to come to your room for the fitting, so he heads up early, just eager to see you and tell you what he’s come up with. when he gets to your door and you open it at the first knock, the sight in front of him takes his breath away.

first of all, you look beautiful. you look like a page out of a catalogue, dressed head to toe in this designer’s new collection. you look chic, confident, and sexy as hell. then there’s the room behind you. there’s two racks of clothes overflowing with stunning pieces, and hongjoong is standing at the door with stars in his eyes and a surprised look on his face. slowly, he turns to you, reaching for your hands.

“how did this happen?” he asks, looking at you in awe.

“i made some calls,” you shrug. “come in, i have so much to show you.”

you go through the pieces quickly, explaining he needs to pick two outfits: one to keep and one to wear to the event. he looks on in admiration (for you or the clothes, we may never know) and carefully touches the fabric as you speak, appreciating the little details of the pieces before him. as you’re talking, there’s one suit he keeps playing with, and you smile as you ask, “that’s your favorite?”

“yeah,” he nods, looking over his shoulder at you. “i love the color, and the buttons, and the way it’s cut over here-”

“try it on then,” you encourage, and you take the suit off the rack before leading hongjoong to your bathroom. “take your time with it, but come show me when you’re dressed.”

hongjoong disappears briefly, and you can hear him rushing to get his clothes off. you’re sure you heard him bump something into the counter, but you don’t push him about it. you just sit down on your bed, kicking your feet, as you wait for him to come out. when he’s ready, he steps back into your room and clears his throat. now it’s your turn to be in shock, utterly stunned at how perfect hongjoong looks standing before you in this tan suit.

“do you like it?” you ask excitedly, and hongjoong nods. “give us a spin then.” he turns around slowly, and you whistle teasingly so that when he turns back to you there’s a shy smile on his face. “how’s the fit?”

“perfect,” he replies. “it’s like it was made for me.”

“well it was,” you tell him, stepping up to fix his cuffs. “i gave them your measurements last week, i’m just glad they were able to tailor it in time.”

“you did this for me?” he asks in disbelief. “why?”

“because,” you start, adjusting his lapels now. you keep speaking, trying to hide the slight shake to your voice. “because i didn’t know how to tell you i loved you. so i had to show you.”

hongjoong is quiet, and you’re scared for a moment that you crossed a line. you’re worried you said the wrong thing. afraid that this is too much, and hongjoong doesn’t want this anymore. but a gentle hand reaches out to tilt your chin so you’re staring into hongjoong’s eyes, and he’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“can i kiss you?” he asks quietly, and you whisper a soft yes. he cups your cheeks, pulling you closer until your lips meet his. usually when you kiss hongjoong it’s sweet but fast, passionate but hurried. this is different. his lips move over yours slowly, his hands caressing you all the way down from your neck to your waist, holding you like he’s afraid to let you go. you’re both reluctant to pull away, but eventually you need to take a breath so you place your hands on his chest to push back. his grip around your waist tightens, and he kisses you harder, trying to put all of his love for you into this one touch. you have to push him off, laughing at how he chases you and pulls you even closer.

“baby, stop,” you giggle. “need a breather.”

“too bad,” he says, kissing from your lips down to your chin and further down to your neck. “not letting you go ever again.”

“that’s gonna make our lives a little harder, don’t you think?” you joke, and he stops to look at you seriously.

“no,” he tells you. “this is gonna work. we’ll make it work for us. it’ll be hard but worth it.” he holds your gaze a moment longer and you lean back in to kiss him.

“can i say something though?” you ask. “make sure we’re on the same page?”

“please,” hongjoong nods.

“do you wanna sit down at least?” you offer, and he shakes his head.

“nope,” squeezing you tighter, “this is fine with me.”

“fine,” you laugh. “i’m sorry i didn’t say anything earlier,” you begin. “but i can’t have you thinking this is all just fun and games. we could seriously get in trouble here, especially me. so i have to be careful.”

“i know that,” hongjoong tries, but you stop him.

“i have to be careful,” you repeat, and he nods. “it’s a really serious thing. and if i don’t know what i am to you, it’s hard for me to risk the career i’ve built because of this incredibly charming guy i happen to work with.”

“for what it’s worth,” hongjoong says, “even if we weren’t together, if i was just some loser pining for the girl he works with, i would still love you.”

“hongjoong.” you whine. “you’re not making this easier for me.”

“okay,” he says, detaching his arms from around you and grabbing your hands tightly in his. “let me make it easier then. be my girlfriend. date me. stay over and come to work with me in the mornings. let me handle the shit, you just be my y/n again. because i miss you. i miss us. hell, i even miss your doofus dog. it might be silly, but when i would come to your apartment, it felt like we were a little family, like we had a furry little son. it was nice. it was normal. nothing in my life is normal, but you make me feel like a person. just like any other guy. you don’t treat me like kim hongjoong, leader of ateez. you treat me like hongjoong. you make me feel like myself. that’s why it was so easy for me to say i love you. you make all of this feel like it’s normal. like this is how life is supposed to be. so i’m tired of all this sneaking around shit. be my girlfriend. be in love with me.”

“i-i never knew you felt that way,” you say, a little choked up. hongjoong reaches up to cup your face, thumbs ready to catch any tears that might come. you lean forward, your forehead touching his. “but you’re my hongjoong, how could i treat you any differently?” he laughs softly, hands squeezing your cheeks. you look at him, so close, so beautiful, and you think how easy it will be going forward. “that’s why i quit.”

hongjoong pulls back from you in shock, surprise written all over his face. he tries to speak, but he can’t even think of what to ask. after all of this, you picked him?

“you..what?”

“i quit,” you shrug. “well, stepped down. and when they asked why, i told them i couldn’t work with you directly anymore. i think they knew why, but they understood.”

“but you just got a promotion,” hongjoong says. “you’re so good at what you do. and the guys! you’re so good to us. what are we gonna do without you?”

“baby,” you laugh, cupping his cheeks now. “they just put me in a different department. same pay, similar tasks, just not working directly with you. my job is more external now. that’s how i got us invited to fashion week. i’m basically the kq rep that goes out and bothers all these designers to get them to send us clothes, and then the stylist team gets to choose what pieces to use. i’m actually kind of the boss now, which is nice.”

“i can’t believe you,” hongjoong smiles. “you’re sneaky.”

“nah, i’m just a sap who’s in love,” you tease.

“wait,” hongjoong says, “i haven’t heard you say it yet.”

“say what?”

“i love you,” he explains. “you haven’t said i love you yet. i wanna hear you say it.”

“oh, that i love you?” you ask, and hongjoong blushes. “you want me to say i love you? because i do. i love you.”

“say it again,” he smiles, leaning in closer until your lips are just barely touching.

“i love you,” you whisper, lips grazing his. “i love you i love you i love you.”

#ateez #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong smut #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong one shot #kim hongjoong fanfic #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong imagine #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #this is so long im so sorry #ateez x reader

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fablesofkitkat · 2 years

Text

(18+) extra pov: domestic moments at 5:00 AM with Enji

genre: nsfw

minors do not interact

synopsis: what if instead of Rei, it was you who married Endeavor? early conversations with Enji.

I don't know how you do it, making love out of nothing at all

-Air supply

tags: @bootyholelicker @aw-crepes @tartly-sweet @ifyoulikeitiloveit @bxrn-thxs-wxy-90five @theroosterswife24 @ghostlyluminarycloud @acebakugo @itzyourgurlnihya @lynn-anonymous @animeaandp @rubinocore @mhashoswhore @includemeaspartofyourworld @nuttyninjacat @shadowzena43 @vtte @spicy-therapist-mom

---

You stretch yourself on the bed as you wake up, pulling a muscle on your foot. The pain is instantaneous, resulting to your curled position. Are you that old? Getting cramps from a simple stretch? You couldn't contain the groan and whimper escaping from your lips. This wakes the sleeping giant beside you.

"...whuzwrong?" his voice sleepy and gruff.

"Foot cramps."

His eyebrows scrunched up and with eyes still closed, he sits up. His hand padded its way blindly to your thigh, squeezing for a second and he props up your leg to his lap. He attempts to grab your foot.

"Don't you dare—" you warned Enji.

His hand is large enough to make your feet small. He cradles your aching foot and gently flexed it. Relief flooded you. The pain seeped away. "This is new. Have you been wearing tight shoes?"

"No."

"...are you sure? Your feet size grew after you had Shoto."

The heat in his palms enveloped your foot and you sighed in contentment. "I'm sure."

"Maybe you're low on potassium, go see a doctor." He mumbled sleepily, eyes still closed. Enji placed both his palms on either side of your foot, gently pulling the right side of the foot forward while pushing the left side back, then left side forward and right side backward; he repeats the twisting motion, working his hands from ankle to toes.

"No, you go see a doctor. You're long overdue for a check-up too." You feel drowsy once more.

"It's Touya who needs a check-up. His new burns looked terrible despite the hero suit you invested in."

Your eyes narrowed. "What new burns?"

His eyes snapped open at his slip-up. The grimacing look he put on made the misplaced anger in you fade. Damn, this crusty old man. When did he get so adorable?

You looked heavenward and thought of your eldest. You never thought you'd consider about whooping his butt, but here you are. "What am I gonna do with Touya? Why can't he be moderate with his quirk."

"There are new heroes every day. Someone will be faster than Touya. Or wiser. Or stronger. He thinks he needs his chance in being Number One has a limited time window. It won't be long til he starts to feel the ache in his knees, feel the clunkiness of his movement, or notice how fatigue comes easy to him as he grows old. Since he was a kid, it didn't matter how much he bruised himself up to complete a day's training."

"Sounds like someone I know." You lift your arms up at him, inviting him to press himself into a hug.

His head rests on your chest while his arms lift your back so he could hug your waist. Your legs are apart to make room for him and then finally, he rolls his body with you lying on top of him.

"Fuyumi also worries me." Enji opens up; his hand is on your hip, the other on your back.

You look at your husband, propping your elbows up on his chest while your chin rests on your knuckles. "Why? Did something happen to Yumi??" Your forehead creased in worry.

"Don't you ever wonder why our daughter hasn't brought anyone for us to meet?"

"Like a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?"

"Yes." The grudge in that word did not go unheard.

You grin at his sour-puss expression. "One, you're very intimidating. Two, speak for yourself. How do you know I haven't met her special someone?"

"You did?"

"Well, not formally. There were no introductions. It was just me seeing them one time at the movies."

"You were at the movies without me?" His tone accusing.

"It was the time you left in the middle of our date." You sit up on his stomach, knees astride. You poke a finger at his chest. "You know I never watch a movie without you, there's no one to sleep with me."

His hands creep to cup your ass and you think none of it. You try not to. You and Enji are in your late 40s. You're in that weird phase where you try to second guess suggestive touches because of age. Will this lead to sex? Or not? You and Enji are a bit old so maybe not. Sometimes you and Enji don't feel like it but the habit sticks. It's comforting.

"You ever think of things we do while we go about our day?" asked Enji. He lifts you up a little for him to sit and he gets to makeout with you.

"All the time." You admitted, breaking away from his lips. You go back for more, your tongue felt small compared to Enji's.

"I'd be on patrol and remember your moans, or how wet you get grinding on my lap like right now." His kisses are controlled, not sloppy. For now.

You absentmindedly ground your hips on his thighs. Arms around his neck, a hand raking through his hair and the other scratching at the back of his neck. "I touch myself whenever..." You kiss his cheek, and proceeded to whisper in his ear. "But it's not enough— my fingers are too small and I miss you inside."

Enji has moved on to your neck while his hands pull your pajama pants along with your panties down to your ankles; you move a hand to wiggle them off. You thought wearing pajamas would help you and Enji refrain from sexual activities. It was a futile attempt.

"Can you imagine how warm and wet you are?" He suckled on a spot on your collarbone, stubbornly grabbing a bit of your skin to nibble. "What it does to me?" He palms your slit and the feel of his thick fingers that could just slip inside, gave you tingles. "It's a flood down here."

You bite the inside of your cheek, his smug smile makes you wanna smile too. "You started massaging my foot."

"Ah, so the noises you made were intentional." He pressed his lips on yours, his tongue winning and reaching the roof of your mouth.

You rub against his calloused hand wanting a finger to slip inside. When your silent plea is ignored, you push Enji down. Kissed his lips once, nails scratching from his chin, to his hears, down his neck, his furred chest to his stomach, edging the garter of his boxers. You tug his tank top upwards up to his chest. You smiled prettily, "Bet you make a noise before I'm done with you."

"Bet I could." Of course he won't back down.

You make him bite at his tank top and then proceeded to feel at his chest, the crisp curly hairs always felt good against your naked skin. You leaned down, laying kisses on his puffy pectorals. Kami, his chest looked bigger than yours. His nipples are tantalizing enough for you to bite and nibble.

His hand come up to his mouth to cover but you noticed. You raise an eyebrow at him.

Reluctantly, he brings it down and settle to gripping the sheets or a pillow.

His hard-on has been poking your ass so you settled your pussy on it directly, separated only by his boxers as you began to grind. Your hand trace lazy circles on his chest while you sucked at either nipples, the action addicting and rewarding with his hardening and squirming. The tip of his cock is peeking out of his garter and it felt so good against your cunt.

You rolled your hips chasing the feeling. He tugs down his boxers and fell into your rhythm, rubbing each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

It felt ridiculous. And forbidden. It made every sensation hotter. Even the noises. You stop grinding and you knew it almost made Enji groan in frustration.

You grab his shaft, smearing the precum on your entrance. Getting stretched out was something you savored these days and midway, Enji stopped you. He lifts you up and reached over the bedside table to grab the lube for his cock.

You're bombarded by mixed emotions. It stung your pride to need the lubricant but at the same time, your heart is soft and malleable because Enji remembered what the doctor said. "Fuck." Your eyes teared up.

His mouth lets go of his tank top. "What's wrong?"

"You know, I just—" You try to gather up your thoughts. "I don't blame you if you cheat on me for a younger woman. I don't want my body to stop making it feel good for you, but here I am."

Enji's arm is under your knees, and the other on your back, cradling you on his lap once more; you're very much aware of his lubed up, very much hard, dick pressing against your hips but he treated his lust unimportant and proceeded to kiss the side of your head. "You took it as that? For me, it stabs my pride to need lubricant. It's as seem like my skills is not enough to make you feel good as before."

"You're fine without the lube. It's me. I'm getting old and gets hurt without it for sex."

"Exactly. You'll be hurt without it. It's not like we can't fuck."

"Yeah, but isn't it a hassle for you?" You cross your arms, and let the tears flow freely. You wish you could wipe them away with the back of your hand but pretty sure the prototype humans on your hands would give you eye infection.

He chuckles and pressed another kiss on your hair. "It's pouring liquid on my dick, how much hassle could it be?"

"But it'd be easier if I was younger."

"Yes but I won't trade an old woman like you for a younger woman."

You slap his chest. "Hey!"

Enji laughs. Another kiss. "Fine. I won't trade my young wife for a much younger woman."

"I'm sorry for ruining the mood." You lean against his chest.

"You didn't ruin anything."

You give him a chaste kiss on the lips and then you put your weight against Enji so both you and him fall on the bed sideways. You press your ass at him and he slipped inside you, moving a little to bury his full length. He pressed himself closer, spooning you in his form.

"I have never imagined starting over with someone." Enji says after a few moments. "I cannot. To find someone new, or to break our marriage is the same as starting all over again. I cannot be without you."

You grab his hand and kissed the back of it. "Me too."

---

AN: So sorry for edging you guys. This is your author speaking, I'm not stuck with you in this Endeavor hellhole. You're stuck with ME.

#endeavor smut #endeavor x reader #endeavor imagine #endeavor x y/n #endeavor x you #enji smut #todoroki enji x you #enji x reader #todoroki enji x reader #enji x you #enji x y/n #todoroki enji x y/n #mha smut #endeavour smut #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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honeesucker · 1 year

Text

Three -

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 4,670

Series Content Warnings: Little bit of a slow start... Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

*Not proofread.

Previous | Next

Bakugo watched as the Director turned to see where he was motioning toward, watching as your form disappears down the hallway until you and the staff member turned a final corner at the end, completely leaving view. She stood silent for a moment, worrying Bakugo as her eyes were trained on the now empty hallway. Her silence stretched on and made Bakugo’s skin itch, until she turned to him with such a thoughtful look it stunned him.

“The puppy hybrid?” She questioned him, and he confirmed with a nod.

“Yes,” he stated simply, “she’s fond of Red Riot and his hybrid TetsuTetsu and I enjoyed her company during the event tonight – though I didn’t catch her name,” and as he trailed off the Director’s mouth quirked up in a slight smile.

“She doesn’t have one she has ever cared to share,” she mused. “Mostly she just accepts when people call her ‘Puppy’ or whatever else, honestly.” The sigh the Director let go at whatever thought was in her head left Bakugo curious, but he wanted to tread carefully. “I’m not opposed to this idea; she did just get sent back to us about six months ago which has been easy enough to navigate though she has gotten returned to us a total of seven times in the last five years since her initial rescue,” Bakugo waited for the Director to go on, watching with bated breath as she seemed to gather her thoughts. “She is well-mannered and easy to handle but she has been through some tremendously heinous things before her rescue five years ago, and it appears something happens in the homes she's adopted into where a precipice gets reached that cause the adopters to return her... we’ve been trying to uncover more of what may be causing this issue but haven’t been successful,” the Director’s voice trailed off into a whisper as she mouthed something to herself, Bakugo not able to pick up on the words. Her eyes seemed far away as she put her hand to her chin, massaging the skin thoughtfully before continuing. “I agree her being around TetsuTetsu would be a positive to have in a new home as they became quite close while he was here with her, she also did take a liking to Red Riot, and she seems to have gotten comfortable around you quickly. Yes, I wouldn’t be opposed to this at all but given her background you’re going to need to be more prepared – I would like for you to meet with her rehabilitation counselor, Hana, to go over her background and ensure you’re ready to take on this responsibility. I won’t tell you no, Mr. Bakugo, but I want you to have the full picture beyond this day so you can make an informed decision for yourself – and of course per our policy the hybrid will have the final say.”

Bakugo only nodded along to the Director’s speech, agreeing to meet with your counselor, he wanted to know more about you and be the best he could be for you. His thoughts were at war with himself wondering if what he would learn would somehow change his mind in taking you on, and the competitive drive to be your last home – to not fold like the weak extras before him who returned you.

Fucking cowards.

Bakugo was led by the Director to a different wing of the facility where he was going to have an initial meeting with Hana - your rehabilitation counselor - to discuss your past, habits, temperament and his prospective adoption of you. He waited on a small, uncomfortable chair outside of Hana's office as she had an existing appointment already. Five minutes turned to ten, turned to twenty before Bakugo's leg ceased to bounce with the opening of the office door.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Bakugo,” Hana was a stout woman in her mid-thirties, Bakugo assessed, with shoulder-length mousy brown hair and equally kind brown eyes. Her smile crinkled her eyes, and puffed her cheeks in an endearing way that reminded him of how some grandmothers were drawn in his favorite manga's – always smiling, radiating kindness. He was instantly put at ease.

“No problem,” he responded, his tone of voice always coming off slightly confrontational no matter how he tried to soften it, “I appreciate you seeing me on short notice.”

“Please come in,” Hana motioned for Bakugo to enter, and he did. Her office was brightly lit by the large windows taking up a full wall, with a view of one of the many expansive and breathtaking gardens that seemed to surround the facility itself, like the one he spent time with you in the center. Bakugo was motioned to a seat, and he gladly fell into the plush chair across from Hana, who had a thick file on her desk with your photo pinned to it. “So, I understand you’re interested in our little Puppy,” Hana began, staring Bakugo down but in the least confrontational way.

“Yes,” Bakugo cleared his throat, words almost getting stuck with his nerves. “I’ve been able to spend some time with her, and I have regular contact with Red Riot and TetsuTetsu who she’s friends with – I feel like the benefits outweigh anything else...” Bakugo’s voice trailed off as she noted Hana thumbing through your file, red eye straining to see whatever was in there he could before he realized it was being presented to him. He took it, admiring the adorable photo of you on the front of the folder, before he thumbed it open and was stopped in his tracks.

Bakugo could hear Hana speaking but his ears flooded with white noise, her voice sounded faraway as he eyed the photos that appeared to be dated from your initial rescue.

So many of the photos documented your face and body, sunken cheeks, deep, dark circles and matted hair, blood dried and flaking on your skin and in your hair and fur. Tail matted and bloodied, nothing like the plush little cloud that followed you now. He thumbed through more photos as the bruises and lacerations across your body worsened, evidence of your malnutrition and abuse painted on your body and in your eyes.

Your eyes.

They looked so empty, so far away, compared to the glistening little jewels he could get lost in now. The way the light shimmered from within you through them, compared to the photos he was looking at, astounded him. A small scribble in red ink, in the margin of your first physical check-up stopped his heart.

Bait hybrid.

He could see the wounds across your body transform to fit the picture now the closer he examined them. How so many of them showcased the outline of different sized jaws, deep-set wounds from teeth that tore into you. Bruises that bled out into the shape of hands. In a few of the photos you had bruises consistent with being bound by the wrists and ankles, even a close-up of a deep burn around your throat where a rope would have once been. He read over the extensive notes, one of which being a transcription from a recording:

2:03 A.M. Entered the suspect villa through the front and rear entrances, encountered hostile human guards as well as trained fighting hybrids – all wolves – taken down alive and handed over to the OPS Team.

2:07 A.M. Descended into the basement area and found a hybrid chained to a wall with a rope tightly pulled around the neck. Appears to be a puppy hybrid, unmoving, possibly deceased?

2:09 A.M. Confirmed puppy hybrid alive. Signs of serious abuse, suspect bait hybrid within a larger hybrid fighting ring, released the puppy hybrid from the bindings, examined and took photos for records.

2:13 A.M. Puppy hybrid attacked one of the OPS Team, confirmed attempted head touch, possible sensitive area as demeanor has changed once the area is avoided.

2:34 A.M. Have confirmed residence cleared of all human and hybrid residents. All humans detained by OPS Team for arrest and conviction, all aggressive wolf hybrids detained by OPS Team for evaluation by hybrid specialists to assess for rehabilitation. Puppy hybrid sent with the Musutafu Rehabilitation Rep for assessment and consideration for foster program.

Bakugo had continued to read through your file, through the different times you were adopted and sent back – your interviews upon re-arrival regarding what happened in the homes was a topic you avoided speaking on. There were notes that you always ended up biting someone in the household but would never delve into the details of what triggered the event. Bakugo read in the interviews with the adopters that the incidents all happened when they would go to pet you, they had mentioned being able to have physical contact with you before, so they weren’t sure what had changed when it came to petting your head.

When Bakugo finally shut the file, he found Hana’s kind eyes regarding him carefully. He swallowed hard, the lump of anxiety lodged in his throat after seeing and reading the details of your past, it was all weighing heavily on him. You didn’t act like someone should after having gone through so much. He’s surprised even in your earlier interviews with Hana no notes were made mentioning any anger – why weren’t you raging at everything those bastards did to you? It almost appeared like you simply accepted it.

Accepted that life was filled with things like that.

“As you can see, Mr. Bakugo, our little puppy has been run through quite the gamut,” Hana started, accepting the file back from Bakugo’s shaking hand. “Her temperament is quite agreeable given the circumstances, but she does have habits that have caused issues in her previous homes,” Hana paused to regard Bakugo some more and continued. “Given what I have read regarding your situation and the needs for your foster pair based off what the Director has observed I agree with her assessment that you would be a good fit for our puppy – even more so with your ties to two others who would greatly help her transition back into a home. I would only ask that you give me weekly updates on her progress as she encounters new things in your home, that she still meets with me on a monthly basis until it is decided it is no longer needed, and I would appreciate you setting up some visits with Red Riot for her to spend time with TetsuTetsu – those two were thick as thieves when they were both homed here.”

Bakugo only nodded along, agreeing to any and every caveat needed to move the process forward with you. For someone so independent, so brash and unforgiving of himself and others, who prided himself on only needing to rely on himself, his instincts when it came to you were screaming at him to protect you. To show you a life beyond the scope of what you’ve been subjected to. To be the last home you would ever have, ever need, ever want. Something about your looks initially caught his eye – how precious, and tiny, you looked curled up in Kirishima’s arms, how easily he could imagine holding you the very same way. Something in him was inexplicably pulling him to you, and he only hoped you enjoyed talking with him enough to consider coming home with him.

Bakugo left the facility with high hopes, but an equally heavy heart.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Three weeks had passed. Three long, insufferable weeks but Bakugo busied himself with all the required classes on hybrid rehabilitation and ownership; he even went to all his own therapies and treatments without so much as a grumble. Today was one of the days he was returning to the hybrid center to see you, under the guise of attending the center’s bi-annual adoption introduction event as a Pro Hero endorsement liaison – an event where the community members interested in adopting a hybrid can come and meet those up for adoption in a friendly and open environment, not unlike a picnic or field day.

He was dressed up in his hero gear, gauntlets heavy against his chest as he stood with his arms crossed. He was already briefed by the center Director, who stated that while you weren’t officially up for adoption at this time you would be attending the event in the interest of giving him more time with you in an informal setting, and as a test of your social abilities with strangers. Presently, Bakugo had been here since the first hour of the event set-up. He has seen a variety of citizens and Pro Heros alike come through and spend time alongside the adoptable hybrids, eating, chatting, playing games and listening to different informative chats with the staff as they set up spread out around the park on the center grounds they currently set up on. He hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of you but there’s no certainty you were brought down with the rest of the adoptable hybrids first thing this morning. The day was about halfway through as he waited impatiently, Bakugo assessed by the Sun’s position, red eyes scanning the area around him cautiously – he didn’t anticipate any trouble but given that the Director asked him to be here on an official capacity first, he knew there had to be a reason.

Bakugo began to walk around, his arms now at his sides, though still buzzing with ready energy. His demeanor relaxed, although you couldn’t tell from his features with his mouth set in a hard line and his eyes narrowed and sharp. He took in the sight of happy hybrids interacting with people unafraid of what the interaction would bring, could see how their eyes sparkled and crinkled with laughter as they ran around. His heart was filling up with such a light feeling seeing how happy everyone was to interact, and his hopes only lifted at the thought of at least one of the hybrids here finding a good match, and forever home. He wondered how it felt for them, to still have such hope and trust in others after what they each had gone through. He was staring fondly at some hybrids and humans playing a game of hacky sack when the back of his neck prickled with an odd feeling. His eyes darted around swiftly, taking in everyone as he tried to identify the cause of this uneasy feeling, his damaged hearing causing everything that he was once zoned in on to become muffled white noise – the high-pitched ringing becoming worse as the panic rose in his chest. The edges of Bakugo’s vision blurred as he tried to take in steady gulps of air, spinning around to see more of the area around him. That’s when he caught it – caught sight of you.

Or rather, you while stood in an uncomfortable lean away from a man who deemed it appropriate to hover so closely over you. Bakugo’s blood boiled as his palms popped and sizzled, his quirk threatening to activate, but he simply clenched his fists and stalked over to where you were, and for such a large and imposing man Bakugo certainly didn’t lack stealth as he quietly approached you both.

“You really are something special, a delectable little cutie,” this absolute piece of trash extra had the nerve to learn in and smell the hair on your head. “You know you're exactly what I’ve been looking for! The shelters and breeders in my area just don’t have any cute female hybrid companions,” the whiney tone of the off-putting man caused Bakugo’s anger to flare but he wanted to see where this was going and where you’d take it before he made a move he’d regret. “Society has moved into acceptance of human-hybrid relationships, but they just don’t offer any that are cute enough to fuc-! Aughgk!” Bakugo’s hand wrapped around the man and cut off his sentence with a gurgled choke the same moment you had turned on the man and sunk your canines into his forearm. The man’s hands came up to scramble and tried to pull Bakugo’s grip off his throat but to no avail, his arm where your teeth were still buried wiggled weakly to get you to let go.

“Release, Puppy,” Bakugo’s voice wasn’t harsh as it was directed toward you, but his tone left no room for disobedience and you let go, flattening yourself against the nearest tree to where you were stood. “Y’know, it’s people like you that make things harder for hybrids, scum like you make things unsafe for those who’ve already been through enough,” Bakugo’s anger was boiling to the surface, but it wasn’t a moment after he tightened his grip on the guys throat that security for the event came and gently touched the Pro’s shoulder, stating they would handle it from there. Bakugo relented only when he saw you still standing frozen in place, hiding against the tree a few feet away from the scene. Bakugo gave the pathetic man one last toothy, evil grin which caused the man to cower before he turned to you, kneeling on one knee to not look so imposing in all his Pro gear.

“Hey Puppy,” to anyone who knew Bakugo, they wouldn’t recognize the man who softened just as he did. Kneeled in front of you with a breeze-soft tone, cooing and holding his hand out for you to take; even when he rescued women and children he was as hard as ever, a regular criticism he was met with from the tabloids, and his own agency. “You were ready to fight, huh pup?” Bakugo’s voice held a humorous lilt, and your ears perked toward him as your eyes finally met his. “You did a real good job there, Puppy, didn’t need my help at all huh?” Your ears twitched like they wanted to flatten against your head, given your crestfallen expression, but they didn’t budge – cute little fluffy triangles Bakugo desperately found himself wanting to reach for if he didn’t already know your past triggers.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled out, slowly taking the hand Bakugo still had extended and when his fingers closed around yours, he pulled you gently to him. “I didn’t mean to bite,” your voice was small, and you began to shake in his arms, and he only pulled you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and wrapping his arms tightly around you until the shaking subsided.

“It’s okay Puppy,” Bakugo assured you, “it’s okay to bite someone when they’re trying to hurt you. Standing up for yourself is okay.” Bakugo could feel you relax completely in his arms as he finally looked around him, seeing the Director, Hana and a couple other staff standing back from the two of you by about ten feet.

“I was told not to bite though,” you mumbled again, sighing as you rested your head against Bakugo’s arms.

“Listen to me Puppy,” Bakugo argued, “biting someone is okay when you have a reason – like defending yourself or someone else.”

“Have a reason...” you murmured more to yourself, but Bakugo caught it, just giving you a reassuring pat on your shoulder before standing with you in his arms, your nose nuzzling against the column of Bakugo’s throat sending an involuntary shiver down his spine as the cold touch ignited something within him.

“Mr. Bakugo, can you and our little Puppy come with me? The police who arrested the man want statements,” The Director spoke softly as she watched you, remaining silent as she lead you both back into the building.

“You up for that, Puppy?” Bakugo watched as you gave a small nod, still nosing at his throat and taking in small, rapid breaths. “What’cha doing there, hm?” Bakugo raised his eyebrows as he heard you whisper, ‘smell different’, and just continued with whatever it was you were doing rubbing against him, and he had to admit a certain comfort came from your cold nose against his warm skin. No more than an hour had passed with you and Bakugo giving your individual statements, he was waiting on a lounge sofa situated in one of the common rooms while you were in a closed office with the officers. Bakugo’s anxiety was back in full force with his leg bouncing a mile a minute, his heart beating furiously against his chest wall and his palms were sweaty and ready to set off, the acrid smell of blackened sugar giving hint to the quirk activation. Bakugo hadn’t realized he was disassociating until he felt a light pressure on his lap. His eyes refocused and brought him back to reality when he noticed you were sitting on his lap, straddling his legs as you laid your body against his, your arms wrapped tightly around him as far as you could go. “What’cha doin’, Puppy?” Bakugo grumbled, heart still hammering in his chest.

“TetsuTetsu used to hug me tight tight tight when I would have a bad dream,” you stated simply, “and you smelled like you needed to be hugged tight tight tight, too.” You just laid your head against his chest over his heart and Bakugo soon found his heartrate slowing down, even though he was certain you were too light to apply what he knew to be deep pressure therapy, his cheeks burned with a cherry tinge and his heart swelled at the sight. Though you lacked enough weight to successfully do what you were trying to do, your proximity to him calmed him all the same.

“S’good, Puppy,” Bakugo mumbled out softly and you beamed up at him as you tilted your head against his chest to meet his gaze, your fluffy tail thumping away happily behind you. “Did such a good job f’me.” Without thinking Bakugo had reached up of his own accord, and rough palm went soft against the silky top of your head, ears splitting away where his hand patted the crown of your head.

Snap!

A soft, almost indiscernible sound was heard, but even Bakugo picked it up as he zeroed in on you in his lap. Your body had frozen in its place, you weren’t even breathing as he took in the sight of you.

A small, broken rubber band was lying on the lounge sofa just beside you both, your breathing going from zero to a hundred as you began to take in panicked gulps of air. Bakugo looked up and saw one of your ears, normally cute little sharp triangles above your head, but now one was lying flopped against your head, folded over although he could see irritation and fur loss where the rubber band had been, presumably for a very long time. You went to scramble out of his lap, but Bakugo grabbed you and anchored you down against him, you were panicking and even tried to bite his forearms where you could reach but your little fangs couldn’t penetrate his Pro Hero costume, the gear made for battle and hits much stronger than your little bite force quotient*.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorrym’sorrysorry,” your eyes were glazed over, far-away and deep in a memory as you shook in his arms, fighting to get out of his grip with an admirable strength even though it didn’t compare to the little force he was exerting to keep you in place. Bakugo could see the Director and Hana, who had still been standing nearby dealing with the police officers from earlier, frozen and watching the scene, Hana was stopped by the Director before she had a chance to intervene – the Director watched on with an intent gaze. Bakugo held you with one arm, holding you against him as he used his other hand to reach up and head toward the ear still standing up tall – you snapped and bit onto the guard that usually seated itself beneath his gauntlets, fangs trying hard to tear flesh enough to get him to release you, you shook your head gently but it didn’t do much to stop Bakugo as he touched your other ear and soon heard a similar snap with the small plastic ring, now broken, falling to the floor. You were growling now, not releasing his wrist guard as you glared at him, but he could see it in your eyes: fear.

“Puppy,” Bakugo warned, tone deep and steady. “Release.” You gave an indignant snort through your nose, the gentle puff of air hitting Bakugo’s face as he held you in front of him, a quirk to the corner of his lips giving away his amusement at your fight. His eyes soon narrowed, sharp and deadly, and soon you found yourself slowly unlocking your jaw as he pulled his arm away from you. With all the fight drained out of you at his command, Bakugo watched as your eyes began to well up with tears, which clumped your lashes and fell down your cheeks in fat streaks, your nose moistening as you sniffled and relaxed against the iron grip still holding you in place against him. Bakugo released his grip on you, and you just fell forward against him, sniffling and letting the tears fall unhindered. Bakugo’s arms wrapped around you loosely as he brought both his hands up around the back of your head, fingers normally clenched in fists or pointed at villains and firing off deadly explosions now gently rubbing the soft fur of your ears as he got a closer look at what irritation he caught sight of earlier and what he saw made his stomach turn. “Why did you have rubber bands on your ears, Pup?” His tone was so marshmallow-y soft it melted away what remained of your fight or flight and left you just feeling surrounded in the best of ways. Made you feel like you hadn’t felt quite enough before...

Safe.

“They said floppy ears were for filthy, cheap mutts, and they had spent too much money on me,” your voice got small as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, tiny fang drawing a pinprick of blood. “They sent me to go get them cropped because Master would pull my ears too hard whenever he saw them, but I didn’t wanna go-” a choked sob cut off your sentence, but you drew in a breath as Bakugo carded his fingers through your hair, occasionally reaching back up to gently rub your ears between his fingers. “I didn’t wanna go again because the first time they put me to sleep I woke up hurting so bad, so instead I went to the market and took rubber bands from the flower bouquets and wrapped my ears with bandages to look like I went... the other hybrids who got their ears cropped were in so much pain I didn’t wanna be in any more pain, I’m sorry I bit you I didn’t mean to I-” your rambling cut off as Bakugo pulled you tightly against his chest, face smushed against hard muscle as he just applied all-over pressure and soon you found yourself relaxing in his lap.

“Nothing about you is filthy, or cheap, or wrong.” Bakugo stated simply.

You didn’t anticipate the reaction you had when you heard those words, but the second they left the blonde’s mouth you were sobbing against his chest, fisting his hero costume and shaking as he simply let you sit with all you were feeling. Bakugo had continued to look up and check in with the Director and Hana; Hana, who Bakugo noted, was recording the pair with her phone – probably for records and research purposes. Bakugo didn’t mind one bit if it helped you in the end to be understood more. The Director was watching the whole scene unfold, taken back by the days' events already and hardly expecting what came of it – but she knew it more certainly than she did the weeks before when Bakugo first mentioned his interest in you.

You two were meant for each other.

*Bite force quotient (BFQ) is a numerical value commonly used to represent the bite force of an animal, while also taking factors like the animal's size into account.

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codenamesazanka · 1 year

Text

the interconnectedness of various injustices of Hero Society!!!

The Himura resented the upheaval of the pre-quirk social order that caused them to drop in status. They hated the ‘mixing of blood’ - they hated the idea of being tainted with heteromorphs.

Which is the same belief that led to Shoji being attacked for daring to touch someone. The people of his village would rather a child die then be saved by a heteromorph.

All this started because when quirks started appearing, people could not accept this change. They clung to a narrow definition of ‘humanity’ and rejected all those they viewed as not fitting into the standards.

Rejected and considered them inhuman.

And this concept continues to exists, whether as a yakuza looking to ‘cure’ people of these supernatural abilities so he can return humanity to ‘normal’,

or as prison guards looking at their ‘wild beasts’ of inmates with utter disgust.

It’s been more than a century after the emergence of quirks, though, and the definition of humanity has been expanded to include quirks, including even heteromorphic quirks.

However, this also means that to set apart what isn’t ‘human’, new standards had to be created. New lines had to be created…

…and enforced.

There is, of course, logic to why and how and where lines are drawn! That’s just what civilization is. That’s how society functions.

Heroes defend the lines from villains that violate it.

But to the people who don’t make the cut, who are on the other side of the lines for whatever reason, they feel this rejection deeply and sharply.

And so we end up where we are right now.

As Dabi says, “Behold, the limitations of superpowered society.”

#nalslastworkingbraincell #bnha #mha #heroaca

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qyxzun · 2 months

Text

𝕸𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐡𝐚 - 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐯 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

╰┈➤ ❝𝕴𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟗𝟐𝟔-𝐙 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭?

𝕴𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝕮𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒…

MILES MORALES, EARTH 1610B

"calmate mami-- eso no es my fault!"

THE ORIGINAL ANOMALY and the cause of fate changing, miles morales. he was bitten by a radioactive spider not from his own world, causing another universe somewhere with no spider-man at all. clever in physics and one hell of an artist, he only has a few friends he can trust now.

GWEN STACY, EARTH 65

"i'm from another-.. another dimension,"

THE GHOST-SPIDER OF EARTH 65. she has an impressive acrobatic agility that comes in handy with her web slinging skills. she doesn't really express her thoughts and feelings so much so she uses her drums as comfort. surrounded by a crowd, but mostly alone inside.

HOBIE BROWN, EARTH 138

"listen to me, bruv. whole point of spider-man is your independence. be your own boss. you don't need all this,"

IN THE EARTH 138 OF CAMDEN, NEW LONDON, with a government corrupting his city more than other, spider-punk fights his enemies and stops crime. he's recruited into the spider-society mostly just to look out for his drummer. hobie is also a performer and an activist against fascism.

MIGUEL O'HARA, EARTH 928

"que maravilla"

THE ONE AND ONLY SPIDER-MAN IN NEUVA YORK OF EARTH 928. at least he was. miguel is the founder and the current leader of the spider-society yet beneath all that sarcasm and apathetic nature, he has been the one trying to hold the entire universe from collapsing. and if it meant doing it by force, he will not hesitate.

MILES G. MORALES, EARTH 42

"but you.. you can call me the prowler."

THE ORIGINAL SPIDER-MAN OF EARTH 42 but his destiny was stripped away when the scientists of another universe took the spider away. his life changed for the worse when the absence of the spider-man in his dimension affected his city's crimes. after his dad's death, he became the infamous vigilante; the prowler.

IZUKU MIDORIYA, EARTH 61806N

"to help others, you have to be able to take care of yourself,"

WAS ONCE A QUIRKLESS WEAK BOY antagonized by his childhood friend bakugo before UA. his limits as a quirkless didn't break his ambitions and dreams to become what he always wanted ever since he was a child; a hero like all might, one who people can rely on to save them and help them from evil.

SHOTO TODOROKI, EARTH 61806N

"i'd like to avoid something so cruel, if possible,"

BORN FROM AN ARRANGED QUIRK MARRIAGE, shoto appears to have a reserved, unapproachable and stoic personality because of his traumatic past. he grew to hate his left side, refusing to ever use it in battle. like his quirk, he's cold. too cold to even talk to.

KATSUKI BAKUGO, EARTH 61806N

"i'll become a hero that even surpasses you!"

A SHORT TEMPERED AGRESSIVE HOT HEAD with a quirk that can match his personality; explosion. katsuki is a perceptive and a strong student indeed but he does not work well with teams and cooperating. he absolutely hates when one underestimates him and getting beaten. there's not one moment in which he's not arrogant.

' 𝕹𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 !!

╰┈➤ use of Spanish will be present in this story! (used a translator since I don't know Spanish.)

→ spoilers of the movie and the anime will be present.

→ may include violence, gore, extreme themes, etc.

→ i gave the MHA universe its proper earth name since i didn't know what to give them.

→ this is ff is also uploaded on my wattpad :) @ qyzxunn

- 🕸️┆𝕻𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄.

- 𝟏 ┆𝕬𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝕯𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

more parts coming soon....

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

©QYZXUN

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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months

Note

For the parental HCs prompts:

Hide and seek with the amazing Alethaine? Vampire vs. Barbarian vs. Dhampir and

see who wins (I bet on Alethaine because she sneaky!)

Summary: Astarion plays hide-in-seek with his daughter but it doesn't go smoothly.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, dadstarion

Alethaine's age: 6-year-old

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Dadstarion prompts

“Now my turn to hide!” Alethaine squeals as she waves to Astarion from the ground.

Astarion chuckles and jumps from the branch. There is no point in hiding from Alethaine – as a dhampir, she just knows where he is.

Sometimes Astarion thinks it’s a blessing – his daughter will always be able to find him, no matter what. But then he remembers the 7000 spawns released in the Underdark. How many of them have already conceived children? Pale half-vampires, born one foot in their parents’ graves?

And how many of them have decided to hunt vampires?

Will Astarion ever be safe, after all? Or will his mercy towards his victims be the end of him?

“But I will hide very very well, much better than you!” the six-year-old elf’s ears twitch in anticipation.

It’s a dark night, way past midnight and the dark woods of the Unicorn Run are as unsettling to mortals as possible.

But Astarion and his daughter aren’t mortals; thus, the woods have become their playground. Here, in the dark of the night, Astarion can forget about his vampirism and his limitations in the daylight. Here and now, he is the father of this little girl and he plays hide-and-seek with her.

What can be more normal?

“Alethaine, don’t run too far away, '' he tells her strictly.

She nods and grins. Another weird quirk of the little dhampir. Astarion can’t catch her scent, so he tracks her the same way he does with Tiriel. Her heartbeat is so quiet he can’t hear it. She is invisible to him the same way she would have been if they were mortal elves.

“Count to… twenty!” She tells him and once Astarion turns away she disappears in the woods.

Astarion tries to hear her footsteps but they soon fade away. He stops counting and slowly moves forward.

There is something natural about this game. Something that appeals to his predatory side. Astarion makes no sounds looking for the hiding girl.

Thanks to the dark vision he sees perfectly – and he also catches heartbeats and breathings of different night animals that hide in fear sensing the presence of the undead.

Alethaine is nowhere to be seen or heard.

Astarion feels the wave of panic but suppresses it. She just hid somewhere in the bushes or in the leaves. Soon when he fails to find her she will run to him laughing and mocking him for “failing such a simple task”.

But it doesn’t happen.

“Alethaine!” he calls her out. “Alethaine, are you all right?”

No answer. His daughter has just disappeared.

Old habits that refuse to die heighten his new fears. He lost his daughter. Something bad has happened to her. What is he going to tell Tiriel? What if Alethaine is wounded? What if someone kidnapped her?

What if she’s fallen down on the rocks and died?

“Alethaine!” Now his voice trembles and he feels his body freeze.

Mistakes mean punishment. Punishment means pain. Even now when there is no one to torture him, his mind can perfectly do it.

Astarion calls for Alethaine and searches her across the area, but she is just gone as if taken by a fey. Maybe she has been? There are so many dark creatures who love to mess up with little kids. Well, whoever and whatever did this must know that Astarion is very good at breaking contracts and beating the shit out of powerful bastards who deceive and manipulate.

Another wave of fear makes his skin itch.

The sunrise.

He looks to the east and sees that the skies are turning lighter and the stars start disappearing.

“Fuck!” Astarion’s voice is already hoarse. “ALETHAINE!”

He needs to come back to the town. Run to their home that was built in the underground part of Daggerlake and tell Tiriel what has happened. He is embarrassed, he hasn’t felt so much guilt since…. forever.

He had one job – to take care of their daughter. And he failed. He’s lost his child in the woods.

Of course, he couldn’t be trusted. Who the fuck would think he could be a good father?

Astarion rushes home driven by a terror only the undead know. The fear of burning.

“Astarion!” Tiriel who’s spent the whole night in the tavern in the upper-town and probably has just come back stares at him anxiously. “Where… Where is Alethaine?!”

“I am so sorry… She… just…disappeared…” Astarion sits on the porch and grabs a fistful of his hair. “It was sunset… I couldn’t… stay…”

Tiriel casts a glance at him and he subconsciously expects anger but sees nothing but motherly fear.

“It’s all right… I am going to look for her. She has probably just hidden somewhere”

“What if something bad happened to her? I will never forgive myself!” Astarion sniffs.

Tiriel, still dizzy after the merry night, takes her two-handed ax. “I will find her. Don’t worry. How far were you from the tunnel?”

“Maybe half a mile. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have taken her to the woods”

“Don’t be stupid, love. You can’t be outside the lower town in the daylight. When else are you supposed to play and walk with her?” she kisses his cheek.

Astarion nods but he knows Tiriel is scared to death, she just never shows it up when he is afraid too. And he is sorry for that, too.

Alethaine has cried her eyes out.

At first, it sounded like a good idea to hide a bit further in the woods. Her dad is a vampire and he can find her! But then she saw a weird-looking butterfly and followed it, enchanted by its blue wings.

And the dhampir got lost.

She started calling for Dad, but he couldn't hear her and she had no idea how far she wandered. Then, Alethaine decided that maybe Dad returned home and she needed to do it too but the narrow pathways of the dark woods took Alethaine even further.

She has never felt so lonely and scared in her life.

Alethaine cried hoping her dad would hear her, but no one came. Now, she is sitting on a small boulder in the center of the clearance and the sun is showering the woods in its light.

Alethaine is hungry.

And tired.

It’s way past noon, the last time she ate was when she left home with dad – mother told them she would go to drink some ale in the tavern.

The dhampir sniffs.

She wants home. She wants to eat. She wants to sleep. She wants her parents. Her stuffed toys.

Alethaine starts crying again.

“Alethaine!” She hears her mother’s voice from a distance.

“Mum! Mum!” Alethaine jumps on her feet. Her dhampir hearing immediately identifies where Tiriel is, and the girl rushes there.

The red-headed woman lifts her up and hugs her. Alethaine wails and presses her little face to her mother’s shoulder.

“Where have you been?!” Tiriel pulls Alethaine away and starts looking at her arms and legs trying to see if she is wounded. “Dad told you not to wander too far, how come you’ve disappeared?”

She sniffs.

“I wanted… I wanted… To hide better… And then… there was a butterfly…”

Tiriel squeezes her lips and Alethaine senses how her mother’s fear is being replaced by anger.

It's not easy to make Tiriel angry, but Alethaine, like any child, managed to do that.

“Your father is scared to death. I was scared to death. What if someone took you?”

Within the next half an hour Alethaine hears all the possible stories about children who were taken by feys, and hags, eaten by wolves, kidnapped by giants, frozen to death, drowned in rivers, and died of open wounds. Every story feels like a slap and, even though none of her parents have ever gotten physical on her, Alethaine suspects being spanked wouldn’t be that scary in comparison to the horrors her mother tells in the barbarian voice she uses against her enemies.

“Let’s go home” Tiriel lifts Alethaine up again. “No sweets till the end of the week. And you aren’t going to play outside until you learn how to follow the rules.”

“But mum!”

“You heard me, Alethaine.”

Alethaine places her cheek on her mother’s shoulders. The fear is taking its grip on the dhampir’s half-dead heart and she just wants to hide under the blanket at home.

Astarion tries to occupy his mind with something at least. Worrying won’t do him any good. He needs to wait till Tiriel is back and, gods, he hopes Alethaine has just got lost. And that nothing bad has happened.

It’s been too long.

Tiriel left at the early summer sunrise. And now it’s almost evening.

Astarion takes one of his books out. It’s a collection of short stories for kids he found in a dungeon a year ago, but, once he opened it for the first time he realized it’s actually a guide on how to join the thief guild written in Thieves Cant. It’s been years since he practiced the language for the last time and it feels like a good mind exercise.

And then he hears the familiar scent.

Tiriel is coming back.

Astarion can’t understand if she carries Alethaine or not, and he’s afraid his wife is coming back alone.

He rushes outside and sees Tiriel coming back with Alethaine in her arms. The fear lets him go and he runs to them to truly make sure she is fine.

“Where did you… Gods…” he gasps, taking Aletaine from her hands. The girl's face is puffy because of how long she’s cried.

“She ran away. And got lost.”

“I told her not to…” Astarion presses Alethaine to his chest as if fearing she would disappear.

“Well, I suppose she’s learned her lesson. And will learn it even better,” Tiriel repeats what punishment Alethains is going to receive.

Astarion places sleepy Alethaine on a bench and helps her to undress. It's obvious the girl needs to bathe and eat, but she is barely conscious so he decides to bring her night dress and let her do the rest once she wakes up.

The word “punishment” ties a knot in his stomach.

“Tiriel, she almost died! I think it’s enough punishment,” he says once Alethaine is put to bed. The girl hugs a plushie dragon and immediately falls asleep.

“It's not enough, '' Tiriel says, closing the door. “Astarion, please, I know what it reminds you of. Punishment, disobedience. Running away. Your master twisted the idea of a family making you call him his father and other spawns your siblings. But there is nothing internally bad about punishing a child for breaking rules.”

“She almost died!” Astarion insists. “She is scared.”

Tiriel shakes her head.

“Alethaine is much stronger than me. She can already take my ax! She is stronger than you and, soon, she will understand it. And if she decides to run away in the daylight you won't be able to stop her. Imagine her hooking up with someone older than her, who can manipulate her? Alethaine will just go not knowing what dangers lie ahead! And we won’t be able to do anything! We need to punish her for what she did. Because what she did could have killed her. Actions have consequences and we both have to be on board with that. You can’t be “the good parent” in this scenario. Because if you spoil her rotten and I try to impose rules, she will just do whatever she wants.”

Astarion clenches his fists. Rules. Disobedience.

And now one more terrible similarity.

Many of his victims, the ones who weren’t just lonely travelers or drunkards, were those careless young people, girls and boys, who, for some reason, thought nothing would happen if they got wasted with a handsome stranger in a shady tavern. Or someone would save them from vampires if they fucked up.

Kids who knew no dangers were coddled by their parents from this dangerous world and were killed for that.

“I agree. She needs to learn,” Astarion finally says.

It doesn’t go smoothly. Alethaine, probably being sure that it was all just words, asks for gingerbread after dinner and starts crying after a rejection.

“No sweets,” Tiriel reminds her.

Alethaine looks at Astarion with her puppy eyes but he shakes his head showing that there can’t be any disagreement between him and Tiriel.

Then, they don’t let her go to play with the neighbor’s kids who come to pick her up on their way to the river which causes another meltdown that stops the moment Alethaine realizes her cries aren’t working.

Unluckily for her, both her parents can withstand much worse things than the meltdown of a six-year-old.

The young man in a rich red doublet looks anxious. All his arrogance and pride have disappeared the moment he realizes people call Astarion a vampire for a reason.

“Will you… Will you do what I ask?” he cocks his head. The heir of one of the local jarls, the boy has gotten used to getting what he wants. And now he is bound by a pact with a hag who will turn him into a gnoll if he fails to deliver her his bride, and he needs to ask a vampire for help.

“One hundred and fifty gold. And you pay the half right now. I will come to your father for the rest once we’ve done” Astarion plays with his dagger trying to look as distraught as possible.

“That’s insane! Eighty gold!”

“I have a family to feed, boy. '' Astarion chuckles. “Besides, you were dumb enough to make a pact with the hag. What did you want? Money? Power? More lands? Didn’t your parents teach you not to meddle with things you can't understand?”

The young man huffs. Then he notices Tiriel, who watches the whole conversation in silence – and cringes at the sight of a fresh bite mark she hasn’t hidden.

Astarion suppresses the desire to beat the guest.

“I was dying in the swamps… She… It…”

“Offered you salvation because you told her you would do anything?” Tiriel finishes the sentence.

“I can hire an adventure party to slay the hag! I thought you were going to help me with the contract but you aren't the only one who does this kind of work!”

Tiriel laughs. “There will be at least six adventurers and each of them will demand a fair share. And if they make it out alive, there will be one with good intimidation and persuasion skills - and you will end up paying much more. Oh, and there is a big chance they will make a deal with the hag and will bring you to her because hags usually have more things to offer.”

“They… They won't!”

“I've been an adventurer since I was fifteen. Trust me, I know my kind. I would have made a pact with the hag.”

“To be fair,” Astarion adds. “You murdered the hag.”

“Wyll dealt the final blow. And I was staying in the corner of her lair contemplating what choices led me to have a tadpole in my brain, a vampire in my bed, and ‘killing the devil’ in my to-do list.”

“The devil you’d made a pact with, which I told you not to do,” Astarion reminds her.

“Hm, it ended up well, didn’t it? I was also advised against giving you blood and meddling with your master. I did both,” Tiriel presses the young man’s shoulder causing him to yelp in pain. “Astarion is your best choice. You don’t need a monster hunter. You need a magistrate.”

The young man looks absolutely defeated and then calls his bodyguard, a half-orc woman who puts a few small sacks of gold on the table.

“Don’t involve my father in this, once you’ve done, come to me and I’ll pay the rest”

“No,” Astarion bares his fangs. “We go together. And you follow my every order”

Tiriel takes the money and leaves the room to store the gold in the basement of their house.

Suddenly, the guest looks up at the ceiling and mutters something incomprehensible. Astarion follows his sight and sees Alethaine standing right above the table upside down. She wears her black dress and her long hair is braided.

“Is she a vampire?” The bodyguard asks.

“Dhampir. This is my daughter, Alethaine. Princess, don’t scare my clients. Come down and say ‘hello’.”

Alethaine does not react. She just sits on the ceiling and observes the visitors. Astarion shrugs.

“Not very talkative today,” Astarion continues. “We go at sunset through the underground tunnels. Don’t worry, I won’t drag you to the Underdark. Unless you really piss me off. Wait for me in the tavern. Now go, I need to prepare for the road.” Astarion bares his fangs again, enjoying the fear on the guests’ faces.

Alethaine jumps from the ceiling once the strangers leave.

“I don’t like them,” she says.

“I don’t either. Did you want anything?”

“Daddy, are you going to be away for long?”

“Maybe a month. Don’t worry, I will be home before the winter starts”

Alethaine frowns.

“I am sorry. For running away. I won’t do this again. Can we play in the woods when you are back?”

Astarion studies his daughter’s face. There is an honest guilt in her pitch-black eyes.

“Apologies accepted. Come here.”

Alethaine wraps her pale hands around his neck and he enjoys the sound of her heartbeat for a few moments.

“Can I go out with my friends while you are away?”

“Yes. But only in the town.”

It takes Astarion an hour to get ready for the trip into the wild. He knows Tiriel wants to go with him, but they’ve agreed not to leave Alethaine on her own while she is so small.

“When you are back, I will give you a very good rest, if you know what I mean,” Tiriel playfully smiles and kisses him goodbye.

Such a normal thing, he thinks.

A father is going to do some work in the wild.

His little family will be waiting for him.

Such a normal thing and so precious to him.

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specialagentlokitty · 2 months

Text

Aizawa x reader - a heroes spirit

I have a request for Aizawa if that's alright. Maybe where R is a vigilante that's been running around the city taking down criminal organization's or something like that and Aizawa is sent after them to find out why they are doing this so maybe it ends in a fight and he has to use his quirk to stop R? So when the R tells why they are doing this is maybe revenge for a close family member that died? - Anon💜

Running down the street, you took a sharp turn, sliding into the crowd of people, weaving in and out of them all as the hero that was chasing you tried to grab you.

You knew Hawks was above you relaying your every move to them as well, so you had to get somewhere he wasn’t going to be able to follow, and you had to be quick about it.

Eyes searching around, saw the mall nearby and ran straight towards there, if you could get in there, you could loose them all in some shops, so that’s what you did.

You stepped aside as you ran, and you pulled your hood up a little tighter, diving into an even larger crowd, then following a group into a shop.

You hung about in there for a while, looking around, and you found a different jacket from yours, so you walked over to the cashier, handing over cash for the jacket.

“Keep the change, is there a changing room?”

“Uh… no, I’m sorry.”

You nodded your head, and you looked out the entrance where a few heroes were looking for you in all the shops.

“Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to but I guess since you’ve already brought the jacket, yeah. Here.”

The boy led you to the back, and opened the door for you, letting you slip inside where you hung above for a minute, changing your jacket.

You finally came out, having left your old jacket hidden behind a couple of boxes in there, and you bowed your head to the boy before leaving.

Slipping back out into the public you slowly walked around this time, only stopped when Best Jeanist approached.

“Excuse me, have you see this person running around?”

He showed you his phone, showing you a photo they’d managed to get off you a few days prior, but they couldn’t see your face.

“No sir, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, thank you.”

He asked another group who looked at the photo.

“Hey it’s the vigilante that’s all over the news. I don’t get why you can’t leave them be, they’re hunting villains, saving people. Basically a hero.” The man said.

You huffed quietly as you carried on walking.

This was the problem with people, while the majority view you as some sort of heroes because you were wiping out villains, a small percentage of the population saw you as a villain.

You didn’t want to be called either.

You never actually killed the villains you went after, you simply rendered them unconscious, dragging them to the nearest hero or police station.

When you took down a whole organisation you would call the heroes and police to your location when you were done.

You made your way back home, aiming to get some sleep before you went out again, but you only managed to get a couple of hours.

Getting showered, you changed into a different jacket, putting on a disposable face mask and made your way out of your apartment.

You kept to alleyways, lingering in the know that’s where a villain would most likely show up, but you also kept an ear out for any trouble.

“Tracker, put your hands up.”

You paused, slowly turning around to face the hero who was stood at the end of the alley.

You didn’t recognise him, but you did recognise his voice from the radio and when you tried to bring out your claws you noticed that you couldn’t, and you frowned heavily.

“I have no business with heroes.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you became a vigilante.”

His scarf surged forward, and you barely dodged it, but you noticed you could bring out your claws, so his quirk must be to take yours, but there was a limit.

Digging your claws into the building, you hauled yourself up onto the fire escape, running up the stairs.

“Stop!”

He chased after you, his scarf grabbing your leg and tripping you, rolling over you swiped at it, cutting your leg free.

Standing up you turned to look at him and he charged, aiming to hit you and you deflected him with your arm.

You ducked under him, turning around to keep an eye on him.

You had to do something about him if you wanted to get free, but he wasn’t a villain.

He seemed to notice your hesitation to hit him back, and you blocked his attack you kept your hands away from him.

Your claws shimmered, as if they were coated in something, and they didn’t know if the poison you were using to temporarily paralyse the villains was on a weapon or if it was your quirk.

Now he realised it was your quirk, so he had to wait for the right time to erase it.

You grabbed his arm as he lunged for you again, and you threw him behind you, not realising how close you were to the edge.

When you saw him tumbling to the edge you dived forward, grabbing his arm, bracing your hand against the ledge, digging your claws into the side.

With your help, he got back up, and while he was climbing up he erased your quirk, trapping you with his scarf.

You did try for a minute to get out, but even with your quirk you were stuck, your hands were unable to reach, and you sighed heavily, sitting down on the ground.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“You didn’t know who you were fighting but you still rushed to help me?”

You gave a small shrug.

“I know you’re not a villain, a villain wouldn’t have told me to put my hands up. I’ve seen you a few times with the other heroes.”

He studied you, crouching down, resting his arms on his knees.

“Eraser head. I’ve been sent to ask you some questions and bring you down to the station.”

“Ah, Aizawa. I’ve seen you on the news recently talking about your students.”

“You keep up to date with everything, don’t you?”

You nodded your head.

“What’s your quirk?”

You refused to answer this one.

“What’s your name?”

Again, this was a question that you chose to ignore.

“Why’re you taking down villains?”

“Because they took my brother from me.”

Aizawa wasn’t expecting you to answer this question to either, so he was slightly shocked when you did without hesitation.

“Who?”

“Some low level thug, got him from behind and used him as a hostage, hurt him really badly and the heroes tried to help him but he never made it.”

Aizawa slowly nodded his head.

“Is that why you don’t attack heroes?”

“You’re doing the same thing I am, you just have more rules to go about when doing it.”

“You’re a criminal too you know.”

“Am I? I never attacked first, you know that. Which means technically I was acting in self defence, I’ve not actually broken any laws, you know that.”

“You attacked me.”

“I never actually laid a hand on you, therefore I never attacked you.”

Aizawa sighed heavily because he knew you were right, they’d take you down the the station and the most that’ll happen is a reprimand for you using your quirk without the correct forms.

They’d seen the footage of your fights, and you always waited to be attacked first before attacking, instead you settled for taunting the villains into attacking you.

You’d spent a lot of time researching all of this, even if they did decide to take you to court, the trail wouldn’t be a long one, maybe a small amount of time in prison at most.

You sighed softly.

“I’m not a bad person eraser head, I’ve never once hurt somebody who didn’t deserve it. I’ve never raised my hands to a hero or civilian.”

Aizawa placed his hands on his knees, pushing himself up so he could stand.

“You’re using your quirk when you shouldn’t be, if you wanted to take down villains you should’ve become a hero.”

“I tried.”

He looked down at you.

“I tried to be a hero once, before my brother died, but I wasn’t good enough. I have my claws and my poison, that’s it. I didn’t have the speed or the strength or the flashy quirk. I’m just an ordinary person who has a small amount of power. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have a right to become a vigilante.”

“What would you do if your only family was killed?”

“Leave it to the heroes.”

You scoffed a little bit, looking away from him.

“Yeah, it’s easy to say that until it happens. Then you’re left wondering maybe if you were stronger or faster could you have protected them.”

“You were there?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I watched my brother die in the arms of a hero.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I should’ve been better…”

Aizawa could tell you had a lot of self hatred, you hated yourself for what happened, you hated the villains for what happened as well.

You didn’t blame the heroes, you knew they had tired their best to help and save your brother, instead you burdened the blame of your brothers death for who knows how long.

In a way he understood, he burdened that same kind of pain, but it didn’t mean he could let you justify your actions.

If you really were a villain yourself you’d be trying to break free, cursing heroes, trying to hurt him, but you weren’t.

Even knowing he could manipulate his scarf and that he would’ve been fine when he fell, you still ran back to help him.

You had all the makings to have been an amazing hero, and yet you took a different route.

He looked at his phone as it buzzed, then he looked back to you.

“Maybe you can get your chance.” He said.

You looked up at him.

“They’re offering an alternative, if you were to pass the heroes exam, you could become a hero.”

“They’re listening?”

He nodded his head, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“Well Tracker? The choice is yours.”

You didn’t reply to him and he sighed heavily, walking back over, crouching in front of you.

“I don’t condone what you’ve been doing, frankly I think it’s stupid as hell. But, you’ve got the makings to be a hero, you always had, that need to protect people, the desire to justice. You’ve just been going about it the wrong way. The hero commission want you to fight with us, help us keep the streets save, and save people like your brother.”

“I’d never pass the heroes exam anyways.”

“If a group of teenagers can pass so can you.”

You looked away from him.

“Why do you care? I’m just another unruly quirk user, right?”

He shrugged a little bit.

“Your choice, but no matter what you choose they’re not going to give up, they will ask you again.”

You sighed heavily, looking at the other heroes that were standing on the roof opposite you, just waiting for you to make a move.

“You can be a hero, in your brother’s name.” He said quietly.

You turned back to the pro hero, slowly nodding your head.

“Okay.”

He stood up, pulling his phone out of his pocket, walking away while he made a phone call before coming back a few minutes later, holding up some cuffs.

“Just a precaution.”

He cuffed you then released you from the scarf you were trapped in.

You didn’t want to stop fighting, so if being chained down by the rules that heroes followed meant that you could keep fighting then that’s what you would do.

You didn’t care what rules you had to follow, you wanted justice for everybody who couldn’t get it themselves, you wanted this world to be a better place

#my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #my hero academia imagine #mha #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha imagine #Aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x you #Aizawa imagine

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mischievous-marchie · 2 years

Note

Arkhamverse Dork Squad having romance with their fem!therapist at Arkham in secret?

I went the route of starting the relationships, but I would be into the idea of expanding on these eventually!

Arkham!Dork Squad x Therapist!Reader Headcanons

SFW, secret relationship, power dynamic, shift in power dynamic, varying degrees of manipulation by the dorks

Jervis Tetch

The last thing Jervis wants is to be sent back to Arkham. It's a hellish place and nothing good has ever happened to him there.

That is until he has his first session with you.

You're not like the other doctors he's spoken to. You always have a kind word and genuinely seem to be trying to understand him.

He falls fast and hard. By your third session, he's already making his feelings known..

You think he's... Sweet. Charming, even. You'd be lying if you said there wasn't an attraction there, but... It would be highly unprofessional.

You're also aware of his history of being manipulated. With your position as his therapist, you're afraid of inadvertently taking advantage of him.

That doesn't stop him from trying to woo you.

Complimenting your appearance at the start of each session, slipping in hidden words of endearment when answering your questions.

Even giving you small gifts he makes from the few little crafting materials he's allowed to have. Usually origami.

You're falling for him. You'd lose your job if anyone found out.

The appropriate thing would be to transfer him to someone else, but you're afraid of how he'd react to the switch. He's been doing so well and you'd hate for him to lose that progress.

Looks like you have an important decision to make.

He greets you with his usual fondness and the gift of a paper flower.

"Jervis. We need to talk about... This," you say, holding up the gift you'd just received from him.

"About my affection?" He giggles, leaning forward in his chair. "Ah, doctor doctor. A glimpse of perfection! I certainly hope you have no objection..."

"I don't," you confess. And that's exactly the problem. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Well. I believe it means," the Hatter grins ear to ear, clapping as he delivers his excited response. "The courtship has been successful! Now... When shall we have the wedding? I believe Spring is-"

"It means I can't be your therapist anymore, Jervis!"

His smile fades. A looked of panicked realization fills his eyes.

"You're... Leaving me?"

"No, I'm. I don't know what I'm doing, honestly."

Every idea you could think of to handle this while still keeping contact was flawed. Handing him over to another therapist would limit you to visiting hours. You'd barely see each other.

You couldn't just sign his release papers before he was ready either. And breaking him out was an absolute no-go.

He takes your hand in his. "Doctor, dear... Oh, can't you see? You're the only one who can understand me."

You realize that he's right. The other doctors don't get him. Don't respect him. They'd just as soon lock him away and forgot about him as look at him.

You can't leave him in someone else's hands. A secret relationship with your favorite patient it is then. Sealed, of course, with a kiss.

And to think you were worried about manipulating him.

Jonathan Crane

Jon seems... Indifferent toward you at the start of the session. All things considered, that doesn't really bother you.

You're more concerned when he starts turning the questions around on you. Asking you about your fears. You know he's done this with other doctors and it never ends well.

Usually they try to resist and end up playing directly into his hand regardless. He knows what he's doing, and if he's going to get his answers anyway...

You decide to try something different.

"Alright. We'll take turns. For each of my questions you answer honestly, I'll answer one of yours."

This surprises him somewhat. At least if the quirked brow is anything to go by.

He knows what you're trying to do here, and he honestly finds it naïve. Still... Something new, if nothing else. Sure. He'll play along.

"What kind of man was your father?" "How's your sleep? Fitful?" You go back and forth like this for a while.

He was expecting your first few questions. The basics that every doctor here uses to get a feel for their patient. But you manage to through a few curve balls as well. And he has to answer them or you'll deny him what he's looking for.

Perhaps you're not as naïve as he initially thought. A simple "well played, doctor," at the end of the session is as close as he'll come to admitting he's impressed.

Your following sessions follow a similar patterns. He tells you what you want to know, you tell him what he wants to know. It's a dangerous game you're playing, but a risk you're willing to take for even the smallest chance at progress.

You don't know when your mutual analysis of each other took a turn toward conversing like old friends, but somehow it made sense. You each knew things about the other that no one else did. As crazy as it sounded, there was a kind of trust there now.

Initially, that building of trust had been a part of Jon's plan. A way he could control you. What he hadn't planned on was his developing respect for you.

Respect that made it a whole lot harder for him to take advantage of that trust. But not impossible. A minor setback at worst, he assures himself. One he will overcome.

Or so he thinks, until the delay in his plans leaves just enough time for respect to develop into something more.

He's... Not happy with this development to say the least.

You notice during one of your sessions that he's quieter. Observing you more than usual.

You know him well enough to know that something's troubling him. And you bet your ass that as his therapist and friend, you're going to question him on it.

He evades the question at first, turning the questions around on you like he did in your first session.

And just like your first session, you bring out your now tried and true method. "I'll answer one of your questions. But you have to answer mine."

You even give him first question to sweeten the deal.

He trails off in thought, looking you over one last time before asking. "How's your sleep?"

"You've asked me that one before," you point out.

"Answer it."

"...Better, lately. Since we started having our talks," you confess.

There's a beat of silence. How rare it must be for the fearful Scarecrow to hear he'd had a positive impact on someone's sleep.

"Now," you tell him. "You have to answer my question. What's bothering you?"

"Unfortunately for us both, doctor," he finally answers. A curse on his plans, and certainly a curse on the recipient of his feelings. "It would seem that I'm in love with you."

You stare at him in silence, unable to find the words. As unprofessional as it may be, the feeling is mutual.

In lieu of a verbal response, you kiss him on the cheek, marking the beginning of a new secret between you.

Edward Nygma

As expected, he's highly antagonistic during your first session. There is nothing wrong with him, he insists, and your attempts to 'help' him are going to be a fruitless endeavor.

Needless to say, he doesn't like you.

Expect a lot of sarcasm, insults, and passive aggression.

You don't let it get to you though. Your job is to listen to him and help him work through his problems. Not that the man believes he has any problems, and he will lash out if you bring it up.

So you don't. You try to be more subtle.

You listen to him talk. You compliment him on his intelligence and insight, always toeing that line between validating him and just feeding his ego.

And honestly, you do believe he's brilliant. His potential is endless and you have no doubt that he could do just about anything he put his mind to.

Over time the barbed insults begin to fade, replaced by... Well, backhanded compliments.

"You know? You're not NEARLY as intellectually shortsighted as those other doctors I've spoken to. Why... I'm even beginning to believe you may possess a brain under that pretty little cranium of yours."

"Um... Thanks?"

No one said it would be easy, but you take this as a sign that he's warming up to you.

This is all but confirmed when he gifts you a puzzle box.

Where he got it, you have no idea. But his trust in you not to tell about the contraband item, not to mention the fact he would gift you something at all speaks volumes.

...Unless it's a trap.

"My dear, if I wished to entrap you, the means would be far more intricate than this."

Really. What do you take him for?

You think he couldn't turn your entire office into a deathtrap if he wanted to? Now that would be an endeavor worthy of his genius. And you'd never suspect a thing!

But no, he doesn't want you dead. He likes you doesn't want to waste his valuable time adjusting to a new therapist.

You keep the puzzle box secret, even as the guard arrive to take Eddie back to his cell.

And the moment you're alone, you start to work on it. You don't know what's driving you, but you're determined to solve it before your next session with him.

It takes... Longer than you expected. In hindsight, you suppose a puzzle from the Riddler wasn't going to be easy.

But little by little, you work at it, counting the days until you see Eddie again.

It's not until the final day that you manage to solve it. The box clicks open to reveal what is, essentially, a miniature Riddler trophy and the word 'CONGRATULATIONS' written in green across the bottom of the box.

Just in time to hear the knock at your office door. The guards bringing him in for his weekly session.

"I see you've solved it, doctor."

You nod your head, giving a hum of acknowledgement.

"And how long did it take you, might I ask?" he questions, eyeing you expectantly.

"I confess... I've been working on it all week."

A satisfied chuckle. "Then my estimations were correct. But then, that's hardly a surprise."

"Really, Ed? Another shot at my intelligence?" You quirk a brow. Your accusation is calm, but firm. "I take it this was an attempt to prove my stupidity."

He laughs at the insinuation, barking out an amused, "NO!"

You already know his opinions on the limited intellect of... Well, anyone who isn't him. Although the curse you bear isn't quite so heavy.

"Alright... But the way you're talking makes it sound like this wasn't just some random gift."

"Sharp as ever, doctor!"

"Then what? What was the point of this?"

"Mm... Think of it as... A little distraction. A way to keep you thinking about me until we could meet again."

He. Wanted to keep you thinking about him. You freeze at the implication, and you have to admit... That was smooth.

"Eddie. You know I'm your therapist. We can't-"

"Really? Because your eagerness to solve my puzzle. To IMPRESS me, and don't deny it doctor! I could see it in your eyes; tells me that we're already beyond a professional relationship."

The dawning realization that he's right consumes you. You had been trying to impress him. It had been the driving force behind your tireless efforts. The reason you couldn't just leave it alone.

You wanted his attention. And he wanted yours.

"So. You have another puzzle for me this week, I hope."

"I might have something... Trade you for a kiss."

You laugh quietly before allowing your lips to meet his. You know your job's on the line, but it's a risk you're willing to take.

#jervis tetch #mad hatter #dc mad hatter #jonathan crane #the scarecrow #dc scarecrow #edward nygma #the riddler #riddler #jervis tetch x reader #mad hatter x reader #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #edward nygma x reader #riddler x reader #arkhamverse #headcanons #sfw post

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justatalkingface · 1 year

Text

Let's talk about the Bakugou Problem

Yes, everyone, it's finally time, what is probably my most requested rant: The Bakugou Problem. Or rather, the Bakugou problems, because there's two:

The first is the fact that he's an unrepentant asshole who is only now, at the end of the manga, truly starting to realize basic shit like 'apologizing'. The second is that, for all intents and purposes, the Bakugou the characters seem to interact with is a different person than what we're being shown.

There's been plenty of deep dives on his issues, so I doubt I'll propose anything new, but this should fun anyways, right? Let's start here:

I think, at the core, Bakugou's problem is he just never grew up.

Way, way back early on, we see some flashbacks to Earlygou, and in summary? Earlygou is an ass. Fun fact: for all that it's commonly held that Bakugou grew worse over time after getting his Quirk? He called Izuku Deku before that. He was just a bit ahead of the class, looked at Izuku's name, and saw 'Deku'. Boom, he starts saying it, and it's only further entrenched in his mind as he outperforms his peers physically, while Izuku lags behind.

Then he gets his Quirk. Let's quote what he's told: 'Ooh, another impressive Quirk! You could be a hero with a Quirk like that, Katsuki!'

I know we all think he got coddled for his Quirk, and later on he was, but that? That was just a teacher giving him the verbal equivalent of a gold star. Meanwhile, Bakugou?

'Makes sense. I'm awesome. I'm better than everyone else!', he thinks, while having this look on this face like he's being enlightened to a Fundamental Truth. He took some generic praise and ran off with it.

So yeah, Earlygou was an ass. Here's the thing: a lot of kids are assholes. It can be hard to remember sometimes, but kids, really young kids who don't get how the world works at all, do and think a lot of impulsive, assholish shit, not because they think the world revolves around them, but because they can't comprehend a world that isn't all about them.

Here's another thing: kids grow out of that. They realize, eventually, that other people matter, that their actions have consequences, and all that other stuff that makes people into functioning adults.

I don't blame Earlygou for being an assholish child. I blame Bakugou for never growing beyond that. And it's interesting to think about that, because his parents seem legit. His dad is quiet, sure, but he's solid and down to earth, and while Bakugou clearly takes after his mother, she also seems to have gotten the 'morals' message he didn't, and has concerns that he didn't do the same. They're not poor, and are working in fashion, and implied to be doing well enough that, if they're not rich, they're at the very least well off.

So... school, I guess? Here's one of the times where the setting suffers for its lack of lower level development, because I would love to see what non-Aldera schools were like. Everyone else in 1A seems like they wouldn't have a major problem with Izuku being Quirkless, or at least be mild enough in their prejudices to not spend their free time torturing him. Is Aldera different? Is it an age thing? Are they just the good eggs and would have had assholish classmates who would act like Aldera did? Would other teachers be OK with how Izuku was treated (my limited understanding of the depressing Japanese view on bullying says, 'yes', but fuck if I know, and honestly, two hundred years in the future, shouldn't they be better than modern Japan)? More than that, the public view on Quirklessness is, for understandable reasons (cough cough Bakugou), highly underdeveloped, so we don't know how much Izuku was treated was the normal, but I think part of the reason Bakugou got so bad is that he had Izuku near him, as this convenient target. By pushing down on the 'acceptable' target, all his peers approved him, cheered him on, which both fed his ego and his popularity, and combined with his high-status Quirk, this cycle continued swelling his head until we reached canon Bakugou, king of all he surveys. The kids follow him, the teachers suck up to him, his potential, his future, all are limitless!!!!

...Sigh. Before I keep going, let me touch on one other thing: Izuku trying to save Bakugou after he fell when they were children.

On the first take, it seems utterly unreasonable, how badly he responded to that, right? And the second, and third, it still seems the same.

Someone, somewhere, said this take in a comment in a fic I read and I've never been able to forget it: think about it from the view of a heroic saturated society.

Think about it from the lenses of MHA, where All Might is a few steps short of a god in the eyes of the public. Everyone knows him, everyone loves him, especially the kids, and especially Bakugou and Izuku.

Look at that scene again, how Izuku reaches down for him. Overlay him with All Might.

That is what Bakugou saw: Izuku making himself unto All Might. While Izuku just wanted to save him, of course, somewhere deep in his unconcious Bakugou took that symbolism and ran with it, and reached a completely (ir)rational conclusion: Izuku was looking down on him. It went, I imagine, a little something like this:

All Might is the strongest. All Might looks like that when saves other people, who are weaker than him. Izuku is channeling All Might, therefore he is saying that he is stronger than me.

Bakugou, in his child mind, saw Izuku, not as helping him, but T-posing at him. To him, that was Izuku trying to assert dominance.

And he never got over that. Never grew beyond that impression. Do you want to know the worst part about it, though, when you look at it that way?

Think about Bakugou again, and his motivations, with your Bakugou Logic goggles on: All Might is strong. Bakugou wants to be strong like All Might. All Might asserts his power over others by saving them. Therefore?

Bakugou wants to save people like All Might.

Can you imagine if Bakugou was built of that dynamic? Like, with Shirou in Fate, if that scene was etched in his mind forever, and he was obsessed with remaking it over and over, but on his terms, with him as the savior? Him as the one looking down on the weak?

Still canon-style Bakugou, still an asshole, still lusting for power... but when asked what he wanted to do with it, or why, he would answer: so I can save everyone.

And even if it was for the crudest, most self serving of reasons, even if it was only so he could feel good about himself and lord it over everyone else that he was the one who saved them; it would have been so much better than canon. There's so much fascinating complexity to explore in a character like that, as well as a clear path to redeem him: under that logic, Bakugou would, over time, learn to save people, not for his own satisfaction, but just because it's the right thing to do. Hell, even the way people treat him would make more sense, because even if he was an asshole, if his motivation, which he cheerfully shouts about at any given moment, was to save people, then suddenly his acceptance feels more realistic, doesn't it? Him being compared to Izuku as a rival makes more sense when both of them are in it to save everyone, that core of heroism, but each represent a different part of how modern heroism is expressed, with Bakugou as the corrupt, media saturated part of it, while Izuku channels the original, pure spirit of heroics.

Can you imagine that with me? What could have been in another life? It could have been beautiful.

But, sadly, that's nothing more than a dream, and we should return back to reality (though I might want to expand on that at some point, it really does sound interesting to me).

Change and Improvement. These are words that some hold in the air whenever Bakugou is judged harshly, and they wave them like talismans to try and banish others objections.

Let me tell you a truth: change and improvement are hollow words without context. They are a statement that something has happened, not a measure of how much it has happening. In many ways, this is similar to a unit of measurement, like inches, and a number of inches. If you're talking about something, and you say, 'it can be measured in inches'.... that is generally unhelpful. Saying that it is, say, eight inches long is far more useful information.

Still, these aren't exactly moral statements, and change in particular is distinctly amoral. If something has 'improved a little bit' it, you know that it's better, and generally how much. But is it good now? Was it good then?

Let me put it another way: say that, once a day, every day, I appear to you out of the shadows and force you to eat a cup of shit. Exactly a cup, every day, at 2:30 PM, without fail; nothing you do to protect yourself from me makes any difference, nowhere you go is safe. You can't run. You can't hide. I am inevitable. The shit is inevitable. You will eat that shit, no matter what you think about it.

Then, one day, I come with only a half cup, and from then on you are only forced to eat a half cup of shit a day instead of a full one.

Isn't that both a change and an improvement? It's literally half as bad; doesn't that sound like a lot better? Yet, while that may be true, is the situation actually better in a meaningful way, or it as firmly negative as it was before? Should you be mewling gratefully to me that I'm being less horrible to you, or can you still hold a grudge against me for everything I've done to you and continue to do?

What if I apologized, one day, after forcing yet another half cup down your throat? What if I told you that I shouldn't have done it, but the way you looked, the way you acted, that vapid, cow-like look of joy on your face... it was just so shitty that I had to, that you made me do it? Then I say this changes nothing, and that we're still on for tomorrow for your daily dose at the normal time.

Tell me something: do you feel better? Has my generous apology moved your heart? Are we friends now?

This is Izuku's situation in a nutshell. Bakugou's treatment has changed, has improved even. It's reached a point where there are actual differences in Izuku's daily life. That doesn't mean it's still not shit treatment, and it doesn't matter if it's served in a cup or a tablespoon, shit is still shit. And the thing is Bakugou treated him like shit, and he still treats him like shit.

Context matters. So let's talk about the context. Let's talk about what Bakugou did.

Well, first off, there's the Deku thing, but I feel a lot people don't get how bad that is, so let's spell it out in detail. Once upon a time, as I've said, Bakugou was a little better at reading than everyone else. He looked at Izuku's name and saw 'Deku' in this, and thought it was hilarious, and so he started talking about it.

Bakugou looked at his name, and saw Useless in it. He didn't just call Izuku that, he said, this is in your name, it always has been there, to the point that, all these years later, he physically struggles to use Izuku's actual name.

For Izuku's entire childhood, the one person truly on his side, who truly loved him, was his mother.... who gave him that name.

In other words, every time Bakugou called him that name, with that history behind it? Bakugou was telling him that, when Izuku was born, Inko looked at the child she held in her arms, turned to the nurse, and said, "I'll call him... Useless."

He called him this, every day, every time they talked, for over a decade. Saying that the real meaning of the name his mother gave him was useless.

But it's not just that, even. He led the school, his neighbors, effectively everyone Izuku knew in anywhere near his age group, to call him that. There were probably people in Aldera who didn't know Izuku by any other name. There were probably times Izuku thought of himself by that name, that his name was Useless. It's not that big a reach from responding to it as his name, after all, and by the time the story start's he was well trained in responding to it.

Then, there's the more 'basic' bullying; insults, taking his stuff, breaking his stuff, using his Quirk on him. Again, for years and years, until Izuku is beaten down into terrified compliance, where Bakugou blowing up his stuff, his desk, and him* in front of a teacher isn't something anyone even really notices anymore. And why does he do it? Because it's fun. Because he feels strong breaking things, hurting people, being the big man on campus. Because he wants attention, respect, glory.

Because he can. Because it's fun.

(*And isn't that weird, when you think about it? Bakugou has been hands free with his Quirk on Izuku since they were, what, four? Why doesn't Izuku have burns?

Bakugou uses explosions. His hands can burn hot enough (probably as part of the lighting process) to burn clothes, and that's when he's clearly holding back with it. There's no way he's been careful enough, kind enough to not hit skin with that his entire life. So why doesn't Izuku have burns from all that?

Answer? There is no good reason. You can mention how MHA humans are, well, inhumanly strong, but we see heat resistant Shoto being burned with boiling water; it's not like they're immune to it. More than that, though, Izuku is explicitly Quirkless. He is a mortal in a world of magic. He wouldn't have that same kind of resiliency.

So Izuku isn't burned because, A, Hori didn't want his main character to be scarred over, both for aesthetic reasons, and probably for ease of drawing, and B, because that would make Bakugou look worse. Because even then, back when Bakugou had consequences, that would be too much consequences for him, that he permanently scarred Izuku, since the Heroes Rising was the original ending, and Bakugou was always supposed to be redeemed. Hori probably figured, if he thought about it, that that was too far for the readers to forgive him for, and finally, C, he just didn't think about the consequences of Bakugou's actions.

But let's be honest: Izuku would be burned. The fact he isn't is just the prettying up of the situation.)

This is where Bakugou starts from: abusing Izuku to the point where he doesn't dare protest out of years of deeply ingrained terror, doing his best to systematically destroy Izuku's life, while being careful to avoid going too far and damage his chances for UA, which judging by his comment on smoking, may be the only real internal check he has on his behavior.

Because that's the thing; he's cruel, but calculatingly so. He's not a wild animal. It motivates him, but he can think about his actions, think about the possible consequences of them, how they'll react... and as long as they won't harm him, he's all for it.

Then we go to UA, and when he realizes that 'Deku' has a Quirk? Much less such a strong one? He attacks. Viciously, instinctively he goes into attack. He's stopped, but no consequences are given (more on that later), so he doesn't stop. Why would he? All he's learned is this teacher won't let him attack Izuku without a motive.

And then he gets one. Bakugou walks into the Battle Trial planning what he'll do to Izuku. His first words in there are don't dodge... which is especially bad considering what he'll say in a little bit.

His plan? To beat the living shit out of Izuku, to vent all his frustration on him, but stopping just short of it being bad enough for the Trial to be stopped. And as Izuku defies him (by dint of not letting himself be beaten up), he gets angrier and angrier at him for the gall of it, for the audacity to not lay down and let Bakugou beat him up until he feels better, until it reaches the point where Bakugou brings out those gauntlets of him.

'Dammit, Deku, don't dodge me!' 'He won't die if he dodges!'

Yeah. He says both of these things in the space of the same fight. When Bakugou fires that damn gauntlet of his, he's finally reached the point where, for the first time we've seen, he's no longer thinking of the consequences even a little. He wants to kill Izuku, if only to prove that his Quirk, that he, is better (note this too; we'll talk more later about this) than Izuku and his Quirk.

Well, for obvious reasons, that doesn't work out for him, since Izuku's Quirk is the strongest in existence, and small fraction of it, badly used, is still enough to clap Bakugou's attack, enhanced by support equipment (who the hell approved that, by the way? It literally destroys buildings. It seemingly exists for no other reason than to cause massive collateral damage). Then he's forced into an existential crisis when Deku 'wins'. His arm is broken, he's beat up, but by the rules of the game he won anyways and because of that, Bakugou's world collapses.

This, more than anything, I think is Bakugou's true catalyst for change: not being saved by 'Deku', but losing to him. Granted, being saved is enough to force him to avoid him, but it probably helped that Izuku only bought him moments of air. He may have saved him, but All Might did the work, All Might the strongest, the greatest, his idol.

This though? This was Izuku surpassing him, and all on his own.

And I want to pause to consider something here: something that was stressed since the beginning of the story, and still is, besides the terrible mixed messaging at times, is that being heroic is more important to being a hero than sheer ability. Izuku was heroic with his complete lack of ability at the start, after all, while All For One is one of the strongest beings in the setting, and is the farthest thing from heroic. And when you look at Bakugou, as we're introduced to him? There's not a speck of that in him. There's no kindness, no mercy, no sympathy; Bakugou has no positive aspects to him. He has talent, talent for days, but talent isn't a person, a personality. He is a creature of pure ability, and nothing more, and that makes him a singularly unheroic creature.

But the story continues, and Bakugou is forced to confront his own weakness compared to his classmates... except, you know, he doesn't. Even as he does everything wrong, as picks fight with classmates, teachers, villains he should be avoiding... he faces no real consequences for it.

Because, as I've said? Bakugou used lethal force on Izuku. Knowingly. As a teacher tells him not to. That... that sounds like something that even a normal school would be concerned about, much less this elite school that is focused around being a hero, and whose student body is largely comprised of very lethal people, who they intent to unleash upon the world with minimal restrictions on their behavior.

I mean, forget the school; why is All Might fine with this? Aizawa? Nezu? Any of these teachers? How about all of their fellow students, all of who are heroic, and watched this happen live, and All Might's response, no less?

This is the second problem of Bakugou: what they see, talk to, and interact with, doesn't seem to match with the reality that we see, and these two problems are so intertwined that is hard to talk about them separately.

Because on Day One of school, Bakugou attempts to murder his fellow student, and no one cares. The worst he gets is a waggled finger. The fact that he isn't expelled is mind boggling beyond belief, when you pause for a second and consider that fact.

Aizawa talks like he just rough housed too hard or something, and the worse thing All Might mentions is failing the exercise.

This is something that many people have talked about, and at times have named many different ways. For this, I've decided to call it, 'Bakugou's Tsundere Field', because it makes other people act like Bakugou is tsundere, acting tough but with a kind heart, instead of just... acting like a shit person. You know, like he does.

Like I said, it's hard to realistically seperate that from Bakugou's general behavior, so I'm just going to keep going and point it out as I go along.

Next, let's talk about... the Sports Festival. The Sports Festival is where, if you need the reminder, Bakugou starts things off by insulting everyone else and making them hate his class. Twice.

First, by insulting the, admittedly vulture like crowd gawking over 1A's near death experience (I still don't like that), and the second as the valedictorian, where his 'speech' is his two sentence statement that he's going to be first... and yet, for some reason, Izuku watches this and marvels over how he's changed. Because normally, he'd do this but he'd be gloating. Izuku. Izuku. This isn't some mind boggling big thing to be in awe of.

Actually, let's chat about that a bit, because that's honestly such a big problem it's almost a third concern on it's own right: Izuku is our major narrator, right? So we get a lot of our views on Bakugou from his perspective, and... well, he's very much an unreliable narrator, whenever it comes to Bakugou. Every time he talks, there's this sense of awe in it that's been there ever since he was a child; it taints his narrative every time he talks about Bakugou, makes it always more positive than it should be.

Because, wow, Bakugou, that's different from before, an improvement, right? Well guess what? That shit is still shit, even if there's less of it. Izuku is just so biased, so traumatized, such... an abuse victim, that he he takes what Bakugou gives him and doesn't think there's anything wrong with it, because he, Deku, has no self respect, and Bakugou is the biggest and the baddest, the most beloved of their childhood, and it's something he never seems to get past. Even when he stands up to Bakugou, fights him, he still can't get past staring at him in awe, and barely ever complains about how he's being treated.

And because Izuku is our main viewpoint? This view on Bakugou taints our view on him, and it's easy to look at him with Izuku's admiring eyes.

But I digress. In the cavalry battle, Bakugou basiclly breaks the rules by flying off the horse, but gets away with it because of a technicality, which, you know, is great impulse to nurture: it's fine as long as it's technically legal! Sounds really heroic, right? Like something you want your law enforcement to live by?

Meanwhile, during this same fight, both Aizawa and All Might praises him for his ambition, and I just. Do you know what Bakugou says right before they think about that?

'I'm going to be Number One and leave piles of bodies in my wake!', he screams, while literally throwing a tantrum on national television and hitting the top of Kirishima's head like it's a desk.

...Wow. You know what? Maybe you two are mixing tenacity with bloodlust. That's one of the least heroic things I've ever heard in my life, and yet everyone just falls over themselves to praise him for it just because he's not content to settle for second place.

It's times like that I have to wonder: are they... are they seeing something different than what we do? Are all of Bakugou's most violent phrases and actions edited out for them? Did Hori add them for his fans? Or is it just The Tsundere Field(TM)?

Not even mentioning third stage where: he's praised for taking a woman 'seriously' for no apparent reason, and dragging it out when he would normally, just like he always does, just leap in mindlessly to attack, and this one time he really thinks it through it backfires when Ochaco turns it back around on him, only for him to just... over power it, with no ill effects. This comes with the double plus stupid on his part of him doing that because he's... what, afraid of her touching him?

Seriously? This entire post exists for me to call Bakugou out, but even I can't call him a coward. Every time he fights a villain, all of which want to kill him, and one who has Ochaco's power but lethal, he still charges in. Moreover, all it does it make you weightless; Bakugou's power explicitly gives him a way around that; if she tosses him, he can just fly back to the stage.

So... why is this a thing? This is a thing so, when the heroes, who at this point are symbolizing the audience's discontent with Bakugou, start complaining, Aizawa can step in, verbally slap them, us, and then explain how great Bakugou is, which get magnified by how casually he shoots down her plan at the end.

And here's the super special bonus problem with all of this: a hero's job isn't to protect themselves. A hero's job is to protect everyone else. Even if they, personally, are hurt, a hero is expected to risk their health, and lives, so that the general public is safe. You want to know what the problem is when protecting yourself and allowing the villain time to do things in the process? It means they get to do things. Like, say, set up a giant meteor shower that could cause mass casualties? You know, like what Ochaco actually did as Bakugou held back?

This is that plan that, need I remind you, Eraserhead was defending.

Then there's the fight with Shoto where, under the actual logic of the setting, according to Hori's very notes on how their Quirks work, Shoto should have froze him and thusly stopped him in his tracks, no fire needed, since it would stop Bakugou from sweating. But, instead, Bakugou powers through, somehow, and clinches a win anyways. And then, and this is after he eavesdrops on Shoto's conversation, BTW, which means he knows exactly why Shoto doesn't use his fire, he throws a fit that Shoto didn't use his fire on him anyways (which, considering he sweats nitroglycerin, means he would have exploded).

Now let's look at the Intern Arc, and I'll be honest: no matter how much a non-character Best Jeanist, I'll always be a fan of him for one simple reason:

When everyone else looked at Bakugou, and says, 'This kid is awesome', this is the one person in the entire setting who saw a problem. And as a bonus, he acts to do something about it.

In the same vein, I'll never forgive Hori for making him seem like such a pretentious twit, much less how hard he ends up cheering for Bakugou's every word later in the series. I'm relooking at these manga chapters, and his big attempt seems to be... jelling up Bakugou's hair, and... something like focusing the body and mind via the power of... tight jeans.

Wow. I mean, wow. The one time we get someone honestly, actually trying to change Bakugou for the better, to call him for what he is, and his big plan to do this is apparently giving him a new look.

Really? Like, beyond how much of a failure of an opportunity this is, beyond how it makes Best Jeanist look useless, it can give the reader that the impression that the reason why Bakugou is so wild and untamed is that those who want to reign him in are elitists who are wildly disconnected to reality, that he is right to be this way, because people following the rules are just holding him back.

And we come to... sigh. The Final Exam test. The fact that anyone who has spent five minutes with Izuku and Bakugou thinks that this clustefuck needs to happen is more proof of the terrifying powers of the TF. I mean, I just... when one person is constantly yelling, constantly aggressive, constantly swearing, constantly throwing fits, and this same person is constantly picking fights with another student, who, at worst, defends himself, and and more often just seems to take it..... what do you think they need?

Is it to be thrown together into a teamwork based, sink or swim test with seemingly enormous penalties for failure? Or is it to make one of them get therapy? And also detention?

Well, according to All Might, Aizawa, Nezu, and who knows who else....

*shrugs helplessly*

If only we could use Bakugou's powers for good, rather than making Izuku suffer.

But we can't. So the school locks an abuser and his victim together in a pseudo-deathmatch where teamwork is required to survive, as a form of therapy to treat the lack of cooperation that comes entirely from one party. Wonderful.

And, as anyone could predict, this promptly goes terribly. Bakugou attacks his teammate for the crime of... *checks notes* trying to work together with him against All Might, the strongest being in the setting. This is such a terrible crime because *checks notes again* ...Bakugou can totally take him.

Bakugou Katsuki, everybody. A 'genius' with the brain of a yipping chihuahua trying to fight a mastiff.

Recovery Girl watches this happen live and just goes, 'They're just absolutely the worst team, those two."

And oh, and I'm going to be honest, when you look at Recovery Girl she's kind of a piece of shit. She barely gets any scenes and any time they involve Izuku (a lot of that small amount) they are pure ass. But this? This just takes the cake.

Wow. They're such bad teammates, sure. Such heroic insight. Why, that's like saying putting Muscular on the same team with Kouta would be a bad team! That would have some truly terrible teamwork as well, right? It's something that is technically correct, but is just.... so heinously missing the core of the problem that you honestly have to wonder what in the actual fuck she's thinking. All Might and Aizawa, at least, have the excuse that they don't see that, at least as far as we know, but she deadass watches it happen, what the fuck.

And, as it has often been pointed out, Bakugou passes, after attacking his teammate and being carried out afterwards while Sero, who heroically sacrifices himself for the win and never once attacks his teammate, loses for exactly the same thing.

Simply marvelous.

Now let's move Training Camp Arc... where, when Bakugou is informed in the middle of an attack by villains that he is the target (and oh, we'll get to that in a moment). What is his first response to this? What does he do?

Le-fucking-roy right at them. Here's something that bothers me about how the story talks about Bakugou: he's so intelligent, he's analytical, all this stuff... but every time he gets into a fight? Or near a fight? His response is always, always to jump in. Needless to say, a heedless charge at the problem backfires, and he's captured. Surprise!

And back to Bakugou as target: the League of Villains watch him on TV and the first thing they thought about him is, I like the cut of his jib.

The worst people look at Bakugou and say he's clearly one of them.

This... this is something that's never really discussed. There's a press conference, Aizawa basiclly says he's too heroic to ever join them (ironically, since Bakugou's argument isn't about heroism or villainy, but that they're losers), and this just... never comes up again. There's no doubt in anyone's mind about anything after Eraserhead gives him that support

No one is concerned that, hey, maybe he did actully join them. Or the man with ten-thousand Quirks did something to him, brainwashed him, and honestly? That's not even a reach. That is actually what AFO was planning to do to him. This is a setting, need I remind you, where actual brainwashing Quirks exist, much less whatever the fuck happens to the Nomu and no one is concerned, after they all agree that there is already a mole, that Bakugou could become another mole, or maybe even was that original mole in the first place. No one goes, 'Hmm, well, the scum of Japan think he's one of them, maybe this is something we should be concerned about?'

I mean, fuck, no one just sits Bakugou down and tells him to pull his shit together, your image is ass and the media is probably going to be watching you until you die, ready to stain you with the accusation of villainy, and they can make your life hell if you slip up, and so far you don't seem even seem to care. Also, your heroic career, that you're oh so concerned about, is never going to get off the ground if everyone thinks your a villain, and a villain will never be Number One.

There's just... nothing. Bakugou is made out of warning signs, one the entire fucking setting ignores at times, but this is just... fuck.

Alright. Bakugou vs Izuku Two; Wank Bakugou Harder!

Actually, no. Before that... let's talk about one of the major lead ups to that: Bakugou finding out about OFA. Why? In part to force him into the plot, sure, but a large part of it is Izuku feeling... guilty. He feels guilty for lying to him, guilty for seeming to have a Quirk of his own; I'm not really going anywhere with this, I just want to talk about how fucked up that mentality is, that he felt he owed Bakugou that. He owes Bakugou nothing. Bakugou isn't his friend, isn't even his acquaintance, he's his abuser. Bakugou doesn't treat him in a way that deserves such sympathy, much less information on one of the greatest secrets in the setting. If Bakugou wants to assume that Izuku somehow hid that he had a Quirk for his entire life? Allowed himself to be constantly beat down, insulted, and mistreated, and for what? For this one gotcha moment of surprising Bakugou? Let him. If he's too stuck in his own idiocies to think of anything else, let him wallow in his own ignorance.

Anyways, BvI2: also known as that time Bakugou pulled his frequent victim aside to attack him and both of them got in trouble for it.

And this is billed as this big thing for Izuku, but he fights against Bakugou, metaphorically, all the time, and he's already had this big moment of physical defiance in BvI1. This fight isn't about Izuku, on any level. This fight exists solely for Bakugou. It starts because he starts it, he starts it because he feels upset and violence is apparently how he sorts through his emotions, and he wins it because he needs to.

But not just because he needs to win, oh no, there's more to that. Thematically, you see, this is important for Bakugou's growth. Or rather, the idea of his growth that never seems to persist between his growth moments. You see, thematically, Bakugou stands for victory via force, but him winning this fight doesn't make him right, doesn't give him All Might's approval, and to him, that's almost a paradox; that paradox is needed to move beyond who he is.

But that's the thing though. Bakugou needs it. Bakugou needs to win for Bakugou's growth. This growth is, both literally and thematically, at the expense of Izuku, because Izuku? If he won this, just... out matched Bakugou in a fight, no tricks, no technicalities, no crippling injuries, none of the things from their first fight? That would have been huge for him, for his confidence. It would have been Izuku, heroic Izuku, finally and truly eclipsing his old bully in every possible way, and that would have been great for him, for his confidence, for his self respect. Moreover, though, that still would have been good for Bakugou, because even when he loses, he never loses, and he could use an actual, humbling defeat to help screw his head on straight.

But Bakugou loses all the time, I hear people say? He lost in their first fight, true, but that's a technicality; anyone looking at them would know who won combat wise. He won the Sports Festival, even though he bitches about how it wasn't 'right'. He loses against All Might, sure, but All Might is the strongest man on the planet; that loss means nothing. Moreover, he wins against him through the goal of the exam at the end anyways. He loses to the villains, sure, but it was a bunch of them against him; it wasn't a fair fight, which is the whole reason him picking it was stupid in the first place. And now, here, he could have finally had a real loss to give him some perspective... but he doesn't.

Moreover, Hori just... hypes up Explosion as a Quirk more than it really deserves. Is it a good Quirk? Strong? Sure. But let's be honest here: he sweats nitroglycerin. Literally, his Quirk is his two parents mashed together into the best possible option, and it's basiclly lazy ass chemistry via genetics. There is, by the very definition of the substance that he explicitly makes, a cap to how much it can do with a certain volume; that's why new, more explosive explosives were made to replace it

One For All, all the heroic thematics aside, is literally just pure power. All Might changes the weather with a punch on accident; I'm convinced if he punched the ground and meant it, he could actually fuck up Japan as a island. The cap with OFA is yes. There is no way, under the logic of the setting, that Bakugou can ever contest that.

Like, look at Endeavour: when he wants more fire, he makes more fire. It's bigger. What the fuck is Bakugou going to do, rain his sweat on people? What happens when he dehydrates, because again, this is his sweat, which comes from his body? Cluster doesn't even make sense, really, that he somehow super concentrates it to make it more powerful, and AP Shot is literally him making a circle with his fingers before blowing up a bomb in it, yet somehow it makes, like, a laser?

The thing is that more loose Quirks, like Endeavour's, again, aren't as limited to science as the more 'realistic' Quirks like Bakugou's, so there's nothing really saying he can't just... make more flames. He could damage himself, sure, but since he already pulls that shit out of nothing, Endeavour increasing the volume of his magic ass firebending isn't hard to accept. Hori wrote himself into a hole here because if Bakugou just made explosions by magic? If he just... conceptually made explosions? A lot of this stuff would make sense (except AP Shot; fuck AP Shot), and it feels like that's how he treats it sometimes. But that's not what he did: it was his Dad's Acid Sweat with his Mom's Glycerin which means he sweats explosive sweat. And then, when it's convenient, he has shit like the Gauntlets, and basiclly all the rest of his support gear, that are explicitly filled with his sweat.

Bakugou's powers are basiclly whatever the fuck Hori wants at any given moment, and it's honestly frustrating when he tried to play so much of this setting's powers so seriously at first, and Bakugou's Quirk in particular is explained more than almost anyone else, and yet he tosses it the moment he thinks of something that sounds cool.

...But I've gotten off topic. The point is, OFA is OP and Izuku should have just won that on pure ability alone.

Anyways, after all this, the teachers finally come, once it's settled in Bakugou's favor, and they're both in trouble. For a fight that was 100% Bakugou's fault.

So, throughout all of this, Bakugou has changed, yes, but beyond the first couple of days, the changes have been grudging and glacial, and the reasons why are best exemplified in the License Exam where we find out that, for all intents and purposes, Bakugou is incapable of showing basic empathy. I mean, fuck, he fails to show that when, with any amount of logic, much less that of the genius Bakugou, would say that now is the time to fake it. An actual, factual sociopath would do better than him, purely because they would know to act for their own betterment.

(And the fact that his teachers look at this, explicit proof that he is seemingly incapable of actually trying to save a person, but do nothing with this information speaks volumes.... mostly about how bad Hori is at writing Bakugou and the implications of what he does constantly. Surely there's no way that, without the Author hyping him up, they'd just let that slide, right? ...Right?)

But, then, hope on the horizon! He has a make up exam, and it's apparently centered around pounding basic morals/how to deal with civilians into his thick skull! Surely, this is the time Bakugou will finally, finally, get the point, right?

And that's the thing: he does. There's this, probably to other people, touching moment where he sees himself in this asshole kid and talks about how you can't just look down on people. And it's like... finally. Finally! The switch has finally been flicked! He gets it! Change, improvement, development, fina-

Then the second he gets out of it he promptly goes back to calling everyone extras.

That dynamic in many ways is the perfect embodiment of Bakugou's development, and it's... It's like watching someone fighting off a disease. There's an infection, right and symptoms increase. Sometimes the symptoms appear out of nowhere, sometimes they increase over the span of several days. They peak, finally, then they fall back down, again either dramatically, or over the span of several days, and then you are back to normal.

Bakugou makes changes. He makes realizations. He gets 'humbled'. He has a single moment of heroism that the narrative hypes up, sometimes with a bit of build up before hand for a few chapters, and with people sometimes reacting to it for a few chapters afterwords.

And then it passes, like he's just finished fighting off a case of Morals.

You see, Bakugou is well liked. And, honestly, I get it. The asshole can be therapeutic to root for, at times. The problem is that he's too popular, and that this story is too about people being good. So Bakugou, to keep the fan base, to keep the sales, has to stay Bakugou, stay the unrepentant asshole constantly telling people to die.

But, at the same time, Bakugou is an anti-hero, basiclly, and this is a setting that just... can't handle the complexity of an anti-hero, in how people react to them, what they do and the morality of it, how it would affect society and so on, and so Bakugou can't stay as Bakugou, has to grow and be better and become a hero proper.

So... Hori goes, 'Why not both?' Thus, Bakugou gets his moments of 'development', and a slow, slow, slow trend to the better, and the fans get to see him do his thing, even though he's 'changed'. And it's easy, when you just sit back and accept the narrative, to believe that. But if you don't....

All of that? It makes his character empty because after a certain point, it's clear that Bakugou won't change, in so many fundamental levels, even if everyone around him acts like he does. Like attacking his teammates, like blindly charging the enemy , like constantly insulting everyone around him is just different because he's The New Bakugou now, like it's just fun and games, even when this was a dead serious problem early on. He didn't stop, he didn't change, or dial it back; everyone else just started acting differently when he does it. The same way in day one he attacks Izuku for having a Quirk, far later on he throws his metal... hair thing at him for daring to talk about his Quirk. And it, like, impales him, but haha! It's just funny now, it's so funny, that we can apparently see Izuku's brain! It's funny that, when Izuku is seriously thinking about his predecessors, Bakugou just instantly insults them for not being famous! Look at how patient Izuku is dealing with him as he acts like a bratty five year old child throwing a fit, look how fond All Might is as he insults his beloved teacher that he probably has deep seated trauma about regarding her untimely death!

In the War Arc, where Bakugou 'Rises'? Maybe ten minutes before his 'Rise', he was threatening to attack Izuku for daring to ask why he's following him. In a war zone.

The entire story, Bakugou has been described as a creature of instinct, a natural born warrior with a talent for battle. All of that is to contrast him with Izuku: where Izuku, instinctively, has the urge to save, Bakugou has the instinctive urge to fight. This is fundamental to him, a core characteristic, one of the (many) ways it's explained about how good he is at fighting.

And yet, suddenly, when Izuku is in danger, he moves without thinking (aka instinctively), but it's not attack Shigaraki, which, you know, he was shouting about doing not too long ago, it's to save Izuku.

And. And am I supposed to believe that?

I mean, fuck. In the FInal Arc, he has a Big Speech in response to SFO: about being 'way over fear and rejection since long ago', which SFO was talking in the context of how they create inequality in society, and how he wants to fix it... which, doesn't that mean Bakugou just doesn't care about them? Because being over them doesn't actually solve them, genius, it just means you, personally, are beyond them, and even now, he still treats everyone like they're unequal to him. Bakugou has always been the one to profit from inequality in society, between his Quirk, his talent, his well off family, so honestly all of that rings hollow.

He talks about how he has friends now, who are willing to move beyond them, and OK, that works a bit better, except when he still doesn't treat them like friends, in fact not too long ago he yelled at Momo for getting his stupid ass chuunibyou name wrong.

Or, maybe a minute later, when Bakugou gets a power up and/or realization about how SFO moves or something, and you know what he does? He instantly charges in blindly, alone, and is killed over it. Right after this speech about teamwork, while everyone was just... cheering his determination, and prissy Best Jeanist says, with a straight face and actual awe, 'Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight'.

And then when he sees Bakugou get smacked around, Eraserhead's first thought is to scream, desperately, 'Save him! Save him so he can try and become the Number One Hero!' in the middle of all this shit that is happening.

All of this is presented to us as this... thrilling thing, with music that is going to be swelling in the background when its animated, and everyone cheering him on, right before he's tragically struck down for being too stupid to live (no, seriously, SFO actually lampshades this. Before this big 'dramatic' moment, he says that getting up close to him is pure idiocy, and all that it will do is allow you to get get smashed by an All Might like power. Then, you know, Bakugou closes in, again, because he had bitchslapped Bakugou before, and then a second time during that boast, and it goes exactly as SFO said) and we're supposed to mourn him. Again, actually, even though this is a blatant set up for him powering up, since this is literally the same set up as the War Arc.

All of this work, all of this emotion, and all of it rings hollow because, well, it's Bakugou, and no amount of trying to hype up teamwork battle is going to make it work for me when the second the Big Moment is over he reverts to his normal asshole routine.

That Tsundere Field, guys. Too strong, too broken.

While I'm at it, let's talk about Bakugou being Quirkist, because, well, he is. It's a big part of his early character: the reason he rags on Izuku so hard, so successfully, the reason he's so big and important as a child, is about Quirks. When they get introduced the past users? His first comment is that they have weak Quirks.

Izuku saves him and he still doesn't think much about him; it's only later when he starts actually acknowledging Izuku.

When he has a Quirk.

And it's not just a Quirk, it's more than that: it's a strong Quirk, powerful. Enough for him to defeat Bakugou. All the respect Bakugou builds for Izuku? And while it stagnates for awhile, I do have to admit he does respect Izuku more than he did originally... and it's not because Izuku is kind, or heroic; he still hates that. No, he starts respecting Izuku because he is strong. His respect isn't about Izuku as a person, it's about Izuku's Quirk. All his respect, slowly built up throughout the series, comes from the corrupt foundation that Izuku is worth respecting only because he has a Quirk. Later, this gets worse because he learns about OFA and starts valuing Izuku as important, but it's only because his Quirk is important. It's All Might's Quirk. His second fight with Izuku is because of it's All Might's Quirk. He starts training him (that one time, and apparently never gain) because it's All Might's Quirk. When Izuku goes 'rogue'? And when he heroically goes to hunt him down? One of the first thing he does is talk about how he's so great because he has One For All, and then calls him an All Might wannabie*.

And you know what? I just talked about Class A hunting down Izuku recently, but let's talk about that more, because I hate it so much.

I really, honestly wonder if Hori is blind to the parallel he set up here, or if he invoked it on purpose, to try and show how Bakugou has 'improved'.

Look back at the first chapter, where we first see Bakugou. Think about that dynamic: Izuku, beaten down, on one side, while on the other, Bakugou. Strong, proud, with minions at his back, all of them ready to throw down at his command.

The thing is? The first time is shown as clearly villainous in nature, a cruel bully against someone who is weak but heroic. The second time, everything is the same, but it's shown differently. Bakugou is being shown as heroic for doing this, heroic for leading Izuku's friends to hunt him down, heroic for attacking him.

*And ah, Bakugou the Hypocrite. Let's finish this up by talking about Bakugou's name. When we first talk about hero names, Bakugou's naming sense is much like it is for his final name, and Midnight promptly shoots down every one of them because, well, they aren't heroic, and the story pokes fun at him a little because he clearly doesn't get it.

Then it's the War Arc. Bakugou has 'grown', there's all this hype for his big heroics moments, and he announces his new name... Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. And I'm just wondering... am I getting punked? This is the the same shit as before! No, actually it's worse than that, it's bigger, longer, and more ridiculous.

The universal response is that it's tacky. Nejire thinks it's disgusting. Mirio literally thinks it's a joke.

But the story itself treats it seriously, and over time? People start accepting it, taking it seriously as well, treating that stupid name with respect. What the fuck kind of hero name has the word murder in it? What kind of hero calls himself a god?

And finally, it's Dynamight. Which resembles All Might, the Greatest, Most Beloved Hero, the one Bakugou has always considered the best and viewed as his goal to surpass.

And yet he says that Izuku, who is calling himself Deku, is the one viewing himself as an All Might wannabie.

#this got way too long #basically an ask at this point #bnha critical #mha critical #bakugou critical #anti bakugo #izuku deserves better #izuku is basiclly an abuse victim #why doesn't izuku have burn scars?#the power dynamics of saving #'change and improvement' are hollow words without context #bakugou's SCP Worthy Tsundere Field #Izuku is an unreliable narrator #AP Shot makes no sense #Bakugou's development is like watching someone get over an infection of Morals

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