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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

Note

Hi! I hope you're having a nice day

I'm just wondering if you can make a yandere ghost or price with a s/o who has a other boyfriend fic?

Thanks<3

(if you don't have time for this, it's okay)

— Such Waste

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, suggested age gap, swearing, talks about reader who grew up in an abusive family; current-bf is abusive/has an unhealthy relationship; reader is slightly naive, violence, and detailed blood..

A/N: this one was pretty hard for me to finish so sorry if it's dull or simply not well; I'm not very happy with it lmao. Enjoy! :]

Inserting the key into the door with a small click!, and opening it to your usually, scattered apartment, you sighed — heavily.

Today was grueling. Not only was your work office incredibly demanding, but it was possibly draining what was left of your very soul. Your bones and stiff muscles were hurting. Begging for you to get more sleep than having 2 – 4 hours of naps every day.

You took off your shoes by the front door and put your belongings on the table; re-footing your steps backwards, to put your keys on the bookshelf for remembrance. Though, you were rudely interrupted as your phone buzzed multiple times, and you let out yet another sigh.

In your bones, you had a feeling — an immediate feeling of who it was.

Grabbing your phone in the back pocket, you whisked it out and typed in your passcode before seeing multiple, if not, tons of missed calls and text messages from your current boyfriend.

Liam: Are you srsly ignoring me? It was a joke. — sent at 8:23 pm

Liam: baby, come on. You passed your break. Just answer me. — sent at 8:57 pm

Liam: answer the fucking phone! Are you dumb? Pick up the phone!!!! — sent at 9:21 pm

Liam: if you don’t answer, it's over. — sent at 11:48

You rolled your eyes, feeling anger rise in you again. You chose to send a small message. Who would’ve thought the blue-eyed, blond hair and a tooth gap combo of a man would be the best fit? Not you, apparently.

You: Got caught up with work. Sorry, we can talk more about this tomorrow. I’m gonna head to bed. Night. — sent at 12:19 pm

While Liam was a nice guy, he was slightly controlling and immature. Always wanted to know who or where you were, why you were hanging out with people he didn’t know, and if you loved getting unwanted attention. Sometimes, fights got so bad that your elderly neighbors had to call the police to separate the two of you for a few nights.

Poor Lucy. Wonder how she still deals with you being next door.

Groaning, you put your phone back into your back pocket, before your hands rubbing over your face in exhaustion.

Not only was your boss extremely cranky and rude today, but everyone was on edge due to his behavior. You couldn’t even talk to your coworkers without them using the excuse of ‘I have to leave’ whenever he steps foot into the room. Plus, the stress of bills, your current boyfriend, and the harassment was getting to your breaking point.

God, you hated this job. But it paid your bills. That’s all you cared about, right?

You scoffed, feeling your back prick and pop in places that sounded like it shouldn’t. Looking at the fridge in your kitchen, you slumped over and walked over to it, talking to yourself as you opened it, reaching down for the leftover pizza box that you didn’t get to finish last night.

Barely eating a few pieces, you were already heading down the hallway to your bedroom, peeling off your sweaty work clothes. However, something stopped you in the tracks that made your heart jump right out of your chest and into your mouth.

Roses. Roses were on your bed. Sure, it was beautiful. The lilac, reddening color shining in your room was gorgeous.

But who put them there?

You stared at them. Who the hell was in your apartment? Was it maintenance? Maybe a surprise gift they gave out for people living here in the poor-run down apartments?

No. It couldn’t be. Rarely do they ever give you things — especially flowers. What and who the fuck?

“Do you not like them?”

You jumped at the sudden rough voice, dropping your pizza on the floor and whipping around, seeing a giant man sitting in your favorite chair in the corner of your bedroom; wearing a thick, menacing skull balaclava, piercing your skin like a knife.

“Who… the fuck are you!” you shouted. Your feet stepped back, watching him as he repositioned himself — his elbows now resting on the armrests of the chair, and leaning forward into the obvious comfy chair. You couldn’t help but judge the guy. Who wears a skull mask other than on Halloween? Was he a killer? Going to slice you—!

“I would think you’d know that with the stuff I gave you.”

A chill ran down your spine. So was this — no, this was the guy.

The man who left your favorite chocolate on your window seal each morning, the sweet notes of compliments, sometimes bearing suggestions on things you should wear that day. And the huge bouquet on the front door, which was soon transported to your dinner-table, that was left every Friday.

Oh, my g-d.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, finally looking at his outfit, seeing the Britain flag sewed on his Khaki pants. It’s military. What the fuck did you do? “Did I break the law?” you hushed out, terrified at the man.

However, the man in front of you snickered. “Doubt you’d have the guts to break the law, sweetheart.”

“I– what?” you looked at him dumbfounded. Who the fuck was this guy?

“Ya’ heard me, only have a speeding ticket,” he remarked, making you dart your eyes toward behind you to the hallway, seeing the front door before back at him. “Pretty impressive for your age, if ya’ ask me.”

Your brain short-circuited. “How… do you know that?” you posed, feeling your breathing quicken. “I have so many questions,” you added. But yet, the man stared at you with his darkening eyes. Didn’t help that your room was dimmed. You really should’ve fixed that light.

He stared at you before speaking up. “Bet ya’ do. I’m all answering them as long as you get rid of that cunt of a boyfriend.”

“E… ‘cuse me?” you stammered, taking another step back. But, your anger got ahead of you; your eyebrows knitted against each other. “I can assure you that he treats me well.”

Though, the man just scoffed and stood up as your throat closed at the sight of the man. Why the fuck was he so tall? “Sure. Keep imagining that sick fantasy image of yours, and you’ll wake up in the hospital with a broken nose.”

You wanted to defend yourself. But he was right. Breaking your index finger hurts like a bitch. The frequent fights were exhausting. The last time you tried talking with Liam about visiting a close friend an hour away ended up with his hand reaching out towards your wrist, twisting it with a large sprain and a large hospital bill.

The yelling. The self-blame. The hours of constant harassment with texts and calls. The horrible smell of booze. You really fucked up your love life, didn’t you?

“But,” he started, a thick accent voicing in as he stepped closer into your direction. “I can treat you better, love. Someone who won’t hurt ya. Treat you like the doll you are.”

You narrow your eyes at him, nervously biting at the inside of your cheeks as you wait for him to continue.

“I’ll make sure to treat you well. Something you haven’t been lucky to feel. Your parents were mean towards you, no?” he asked questionably, and it made your heart drop to your stomach. “But, I can take care of you; better than anyone has.”

So many questions raced through your mind as your eyes darted at the floor then back toward the man. Like a rabbit, you stiffened. Confused. Body shaking as the predator approached.

“I don’t… even know who you are,” you replied, tightening your hand into a fist. Your heart was speeding, hands and legs shaking with fear. Your throat stiffened. He could clearly see it — and yet somehow, his eyes got softer; those brown pupils having a sad and apologetic look. Almost like a dog trying to comfort you.

You don’t know you’re crying until you feel a gloved thumb wipe them away, causing you to flinch. Realizing that the man was now in front of you, you tried to step back, but your ankle hit the bedroom wall, securing you in a close habitat.

But, with everything going on, you didn’t have the energy to push him away nor look up at him. Continuing to look at the floor as your mind circled around on whom the fuck was this man?

“Look at me, will ya’?”

You hesitated. Didn’t reply. But as he said your name, a shiver traveled down your spine, and you looked at him – his predominant features coming in. Even with your anxiety and fear swirling in your stomach, you looked at the creases in his eyebrows, the clashing scars near his temple, eyes, and brows. His jarring eyes surrounded by black eyeshadow, seemingly gentler, almost like they were trying to welcome you into a trap.

You stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. And with a gasp, you felt his hand take your chin, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turn your head right into the direction he wanted you to: staring at him in the eyes.

“I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures, though, it doesn’t help as more tears drowned down on your behalf.

And yet, you couldn’t fathom his words.

“I don’t–” you started, taking a deep and sharp inhale, “–trust you, I don’t even know your name. How can I know you’re… not some, serial killer?” your question was weak. And stupid. But it was the only thing you could think of out of the bluster.

His eyes narrowed at your reply before answering at your ‘plea’.

“I suppose that’s a start,” he huffs.

You looked at his eyes, before narrowing down at the mask. And clearly, by your eyes and non-answer, he nodded at your invisible ask.

Stepping back, the man’s hands traveled to lift the mask upwards. He revealed the point of his chin, the skin equally rough, like his demeanor.

He didn’t stop from continuing, exposing more of his lower lip. The skin there was rugged and scarred, little creases in the flesh. Scars that made your heart thud awkwardly. At his cupid’s bow, where you saw a huge scar, it made you gasp quietly out of wincing. The thick mark going upward on his left lip, so callused and rough. It looks like it still hurts.

Finally, he pulled the mask fully off, revealing his natural-resting face, thick eyebrows, and the two large scars right above his filled brows. It helped a bit that he revealed himself, but you were still unsure how to… understand the situation.

He said your name, and it made you look at him. “Rest your worries when you’re by me, yeah?”

Those words fell into your stomach and twisted like a towel being squeezed. Though, somehow, in a way, you felt safer. A hesitant silence settles between you both, before you decide to speak up.

“Y–ou won’t hurt me?”

Those stunning brown eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching something deeper in your meaning. Instead, all you could muster was eye contact that kept flickering to the floor and trying to calm your quickened breathing.

“What kind of man would I be if I did that, hm?” his voice is airy, tone-flimsy when asking his question.

You swallowed thickly, “I want to know your name.”

“You do know my name, sweetheart,’” he coldly corrected you, “—use that smart brain of yours.”

Seconds blurred by you, trying to think – imagine what could or would be his name. But nothing came up. Nothing came to your brain, which, the man in front of you, hummed in acknowledgment at the state of your confused state.

“Shame you don’t remember,” he started, a smirk curling on his face. “It’s Simon.”

Memories you didn’t know at the time came forward.

Many things are given by that name — your favorite fast food being delivered to your home after a bad day, bouquets in expensive vases being delivered every week; cards given with clothes and money. And somehow, your insurance was now covering things they didn’t.

Oh, and let’s not forget about the lingerie being sent. A note of: I hope to see you wear this tonight. Signed with initials: SR.

At first, you thought it was Liam – but he was a cheapskate. Never liked spending money, especially on you.

Your eyes widened, a bubble trapping itself in your throat — it was him. Police didn’t help, saying something along the lines of, ‘until they hurt you, we can’t do anything’. But when did they ever help?

“So… what do you want, then?” you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. You can see the gold-brown of his eyes clearly, the halo of honey flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and… oddly feminine.

“You.”

And just as he rasped that word, the banging on your front door started. The familiar yelling of Liam drowned out your thoughts, and his screaming made the two of you snap your head in the direction of the front door.

He yelled out your name, and you flinched. Already feeling the bruising grabs, the constant screaming where your ears ring for hours. Oh god, what the hell did you do?

“You– need to leave,” you ushered out, hands and legs shaking for the splinting images that shot through your head.

He was banging on the door, jamming his fists; the handle being shaken so hard that it rattled stuck. It was all too much.

Simon said your name, but you shook your head. Denying his existence. Danger was near, nobody would help save you. He needs to leave, he needs to leave, heneedstoleave—!

He grunted your name louder, and you looked at him with teary eyes; the small rivers turning into full tsunami’s. You couldn’t think. Breathe. He was here. Going to hurt you. He was going to die. So were you.

The door broke, the familiar thundering footsteps shook from across the house. And before you could react, Simon pushed you behind him — shielding you away from your abuser.

“You—!” Liam screamed into the bedroom, a bottle of beer in one hand and his other clenched into a fist; his blue eyes burning into your stomach. You choked out a sob as he stepped further, but stopped at the sight of Simon. For once, Liam looked retched at his own thoughts.

“Who the fuck are you?” he yelled, and the man only narrowed his eyes at Liam; challenging him with his height and quiet demeanor.

“Get the fuck out.” his rough and dark voice sent shivers down your neck, making every hair stand up.

Liam scoffed, a plethora of curses voiced out, before he shut up. Your eyes narrowed, and as you looked at his shocked face, you saw a gun in view next — Simon’s finger gripping the trigger, aiming it at Liam’s head.

Your heart leapt out. Fight or flight mode flicking on.

“Come on, man– we, we’re playing. Right—?” he chuckled out, and Simon grunted.

In the dimmed room, you can see his high cheekbones and the absolute rage that is evident on his face, even hiding behind his mask. His hands are clenched around the gun tightly, finger curling even tighter around the trigger.

“I’m not going to ask again; leave the fucking apartment.”

Liam falsely chuckled, “O-or what? You’ll shoot me? Doubt you have the balls, my… guy.”

Within seconds, the gun went off — making you scream, closing your eyes, and covering your ears. Your fingernails scraped at your ears, making them ring. It hurt, not a single thought. Oh god, what the fuck happened?

“—uck!” was all you could muster before you knelt to the ground, wrapping arms around yourself; teeth clenching down your lips as you felt— tasted blood.

After a few minutes – or seconds – you open them up and find Liam, leaning on the wall for support, bleeding through his arm. There was so much– on the floor, on his hands. His eyes were widened, looking at the man in front of you; anger yet fear rising.

He started hiccuping — more blood dripping down to the floor as he clenched his nearly wound.

“Don’t ever let me see you again.”

Simon’s rough voice of threatening sent shivers down your body. Your breath hitched. Your body starts to shake as your eyes widen. Simon’s threat was enough for Liam to nod instantly, giving you one look before running out; not giving you a second look as it may not leave tonight with his face intact.

You were about to say something, but the man cleared his throat and looked down at your shaking form. “Ya’ okay?”

You looked up at him, slowly nodding. In return, he said nothing, making you feel his eyes take in every detail of you. To your face and pupils, to your shaking legs and ragged breath. Yet, having never meeting you before, he gladly handed over his hand down to you.

Looking up at his scarred hand, you hesitantly looked at it — large fingers, nails scratched and clear hangnails. You didn’t know what to do, other than grab it and strand up with his help.

“Get your things.”

Your eyes narrowed, breath heaving. “Why?”

He looked at you, brown pupils dilated. They were so feminine– pretty. His breath hitched, and a large hand grasped your shoulder.

“Cause’ you’re gona’ be coming with me, forever.”

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, stay well!!

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feelbokkie · 4 months

Text

괜찮아, 자기야 (it’s okay, darling)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: hurt/comfort, heavy angst (read warnings)

pov: 2nd person

description: Seungmin is the type of person who will let you come to him when you're hurting. But even then, he can't just not do anything while you suffer.

pairing: boyfriend!Seungmin x reader

warnings: mention of food, depiction of depression, slight depiction of an eating disorder

word count: 2,194

"Y/n...Y/n, wake up," Seungmin's soft and gentle voice pulls you back into the world of the conscious.

"Hm?" You hum, your eyes still closed.

"I'm hungry," He whispers, tapping on your shoulder.

You crack one eye open, staring at your boyfriend. You can barely see in him the dark of your room. You're not even sure what time it is. Seungmin had a busy schedule today so you weren't anticipating seeing him. And with your day off, you just stayed home and ended up taking a nap.

"You came all the way to my place to wake me up and tell me that you're hungry?" You croak.

"...Yes?" He hesitates, biting the tip of his tongue.

"You know where my kitchen is, go make something. Or have something delivered." You yawn as you pull your blanket over your face.

Cool air hits your face as your blanket is gently pulled down. Getting irritated, you whine as you sit up and turn on your lights. Both you and Seungmin flinch as your eyes adjust to the light. In the light, Seungmin can see how pale you've gotten and the dark circles under your eyes. He feels worse than he already does about waking you up. You can see it in the way his smile drops as your eyes meet.

"I already bought something," He whispers.

"Then why did you wake me up?" You snap.

Seungmin presses his lips together, thinking for a second. You didn't mean to snap at him. You know that and he knows that. So he doesn't take it to heart. He knows he's at fault for waking you up.

"Can you come sit with me while I eat?" He asks, biting his lower lip. He knows that there's a possibility you'll shut him down and go back to sleep.

"What?"

You heard him perfectly fine the first time. Part of you wonders if you're still asleep and this is all a dream. It's not abnormal for Seungmin to come into your apartment and eat or do other things like he lives there. You've always told him to make himself comfortable. You also know that Seungmin doesn't like eating alone. You've lost count of how many times you've received video calls from him only for him to sit there and eat and then hang up when he's done. Normally, however, if you're asleep or too busy to sit with him or answer the call, he'll leave you alone.

"Please?" He quietly pleads.

"Okay, fine." You mumble, climbing out of bed.

Here's what you don't know, Seungmin has noticed that your eating habits have changed. Not a first, but he slowly began to figure it out. He beats himself up for not noticing sooner. He's not sure why or how he didn't. Your hands feel smaller in his. The rings on your hands that he usually fidgets with were easier to spin around your fingers. Your face felt different in his hands when he cupped your face, slightly smaller. Your clothes, which were already too big in the first place, seemed to swallow you up. How he didn't pick up on those differences, he'll never know.

It wasn't the physical difference that tipped him off, it was your trash. Seungmin knows that you hate taking out your trash in your apartment complex. The trash is located on the other side of the complex and you have to pass by an apartment that makes you uncomfortable. So, whenever he's in town, he'll come over once a week to take out your trash for you. He started doing it on his own, sneaking into your apartment when you were at work and leaving a note on your fridge so you'd know. He knows how heavy your trash should be, as strange as it sounds. But after taking out your trash for you for years, he's grown accustomed to the feel of the bag in his hands. The bags have either been heavier or lighter than normal. It wasn't last week when he went to take out the trash and found the container for takeout he ordered for you sitting at the top, poorly hidden my napkins. That's when everything clicked for him. How you've gotten slower while eating. You were always faster than him but lately, it's almost like the roles reversed. And he also noticed how little food you ate before claiming that you were full. In his eyes, as your boyfriend, he should have realized sooner.

The two of you sit across from each other at your small dining table. Seungmin quietly fidgets in his seat. His food was already set in front of him. You know he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to say it.

“What?” You let out a deep sigh, beginning to get annoyed.

“I can’t eat if you’re not eating something too,” He speaks slowly, carefully choosing his words. Like it might set you off if he said the wrong thing.

“Since when?”

“Since always,”

“Seungmin—”

“Please? Just eat something with me and then we can both go take a nap together. I promise I’ll shut up.” He begs, his voice getting desperate.

“Okay, but only a little bit,” You mumble, caving in.

Seungmin quickly walks into the kitchen and almost immediately walks back out. Almost like he was ready for this. You shake your head, getting the accusation off of your mind as Seungmin sets the plate down in front of you.

You stare at the food as Seungmin makes his way back to his seat. Something about it makes you feel uncomfortable. A lump forms in your throat as you continue to stare. It's your favorite meal, but you want no part of it.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Seungmin watches you carefully, silently refusing to take a bite of his food until you take a bite of yours first. You take one, deep breath before picking up the fork and taking a bite of your food. Still keeping an eye on you, Seungmin finally takes a bite of his food.

"Is it good?" Seungmin asks. All you do is nod in response.

Seungmin has never been one for talking while eating. You're normally the one who starts conversations over meals. You don't like the quiet so small talk is what helps make meals less awkward. On days when Seungmin video chats when he's eating, you often make small talk if you aren't in a position it eat. You being silent right now feels strange to Seungmin.

"I got it by that little shop down the street. The one with the cat that hangs out in the front." Seungmin says quietly.

"Hm," You hum in response.

You know exactly which shop he's talking about. It's your favorite hole-in-the-wall in their neighborhood. And it's everyone else's favorite spot too. It's always so busy and the wait times for takeout are long. There are so many times when you and Seungmin would plan on going there for dinner or to order to-go but would end up changing your minds in favor of something quicker. Both of you are patient, but when you need to eat, you can be cranky. The fact that Seungmin probably waited in line for about an hour makes you feel a little bad.

"Do you want some more?" Seungmin asks when he sees that you cleared your plate.

"No thank you," You respond softly.

Seungmin quickly finishes his food and clears the table, despite your protest. Seungmin told you to go lie down since he woke you up. You quietly apologized and excused yourself before slowly making your way back to your room. You feel bad not helping him but you have no energy left to do so. Those few minutes with Seungmin seemed to have drained your energy.

Creak

Your eyes slowly open just as you feel the bed dip down. Seungmin freezes for a second, watching you. His bangs fall back in front of his face. If you had just a bit more energy in you, you would have fixed them for him.

"Sorry," He mumbles as he continues to make his over to you.

In a few seconds, he's climbed up next to you and under the blanket. His arms snake around you as he carefully pulls you into a hug. He slightly re-adjusts himself, the angle too awkward for both of you at first. You move off him, letting him get into a comfortable position. He's now slightly propped up against the headboard. He pulls you back onto him so that your head rests on his chest. Your legs lazily tangled up together. One of his hands rests on the small of your back while the other is on your head, softly massaging your scalp.

You're not sure if it's the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne coming from his hoodies, the sound of his heart beating his chest, the feeling of his fingers rubbing soft circles in your head, or your general mental health finally being at its tipping point, but something in you snaps. Before you can even ascertain why, tears trickle down your face.

You don't realize it at first. You didn't even feel the pinpricks at the back of your eyes like you normally would before you started crying. Your eyes are quite literally leaking, and you can't stop them. You turn to bury your head into Seungmin's chest, hoping that, that would stop the floodgates from bursting open. Your fingers grip the fabric of Seungmin's hoodie, your whole body shaking as you let out a choked sob. Seungmin's hold around you tightens.

"It's okay, jagiya. You can let it all out. I'm here now. I should have been here earlier, but I'm here now. Okay? And I'm not leaving." Seungmin says softly as he presses a long kiss to the top of your head.

Seungmin's hand that was resting on your back now drawing soothing circles. Not trying to calm you down, per say, but to let you know that it's okay. He doesn't try to shush you or try to get you to talk about whatever is making you feel like this. Instead, he just holds you and lets you cry it out.

You're not sure how long the two of you lay there. The whole time, Seungmin just quietly holds you, still rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your body is hot from a combination of the banklet, Seungmin's hold, and your body working overtime from crying. You finally pull away, your body empty of tears. Your swollen eyes land on Seungmin's hoodie, covered in your tears and snot.

"S-sorry about your hoodie," You stutter. If you had any tears left to cry, you would start crying again.

"I don't mind," He answers quickly.

Seungmin quietly gets up, leaving you alone in your room. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Your eyes are swollen and slightly hurt when you blink. You can only imagine how red they are.

"Here," Seungmin hands you a glass of water before disappearing again.

By the time Seungmin gets back, you've finished the water. He takes the empty glass from you, setting it down on the bedside table, before sitting down in front of you. He gently places a finger under your chin, lifting your head until your eyes are level with his. He gently wipes your face with a warm, damp towel.

"I'm sorry," You whisper as Seungmin cleans your once tear-stained face.

"Don't be sorry," He hums. He finishes cleaning your face and places the towel next to the cup.

"But--I don't know what's wrong with me. I just...I'm sorry," Your head falls in your hands, embarrassed about your crying feast.

"Don't ever apologize for feeling your feelings. And--hey," Seungmin lowers his head so he can be in your field of vision. "Don't ever feel sorry for being vulnerable in front of me. Especially in front of me."

"I don't even know why I cried. Or why I'm...not me right now."

"That's okay. You don't have to know that right now. You can figure that out later. For now, if you need to lean on me or to cry some more or scream and shout or hit something, I'll be here."

"But--" Seungmin cups your face with both of his hands.

"I love you, okay? If you need me, I'm going to be there. Even if you don't, I'll be there. I just need you to know that you're not alone. You'll never be alone as long as I'm here."

That's one of the things you love about Seungmin. He never pushes you. He rather have you feel what you're feeling and then come to him when you're ready to talk. He never wants you to be alone so he situates himself as close to you as you'll allow just so you know he's there.

"I love you," You feel a tear roll down your cheek. Seungmin's thumb moves across your cheek, catching the tear.

"I love you too. Remember that, okay? Try not to forget that."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫: Teaser Drabble 🎃

Jungkook isn't used to doing things like this anymore. But maybe you can help him with that.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, MC is way above the legal age!!), mature romance, major fluff, some angst, hints at past car accident, suggestive at the end

Length: short

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: this is a teaser drabble, set in the midst of the story. The exact spot in the timeline will be revealed at a later date.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Oh thank you- how much do I owe you?" You wonder from the kitchenette you're standing in now after taking the pumpkin he'd bought, while he takes off his shoes, bringing in the other grocery bag he's brought with him to leave on the small plastic table in your kitchen.

He's still wearing is usual work attire, slacks a bit wrinkled from the entire day of wearing them, just like his button up, silver watch heavy on his wrist.

Did he remember to change the batteries in it? You want to ask him, remind him, but wouldn't that be a bit too annoying? Overbearing? You're not sure what exactly you are to him after all. Maybe he'll want to go home right away if you start nagging when he's not even fully entered your small apartment.

So you stay quiet.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." He reassures you as always, hands in his pockets as you turn around to curiously poke your head into the bag, hand digging through the plastic bags of candy. "This is for you too, by the way." He chuckles, watching you take one bag of sour gummy worms out to inspect further. "You mentioned you forgot to buy some."

"Jungkook no, you're spoiling me too much!" You laugh, before you want to cringe. Stop nagging, stop denying his acts of affection- you keep doing it, keep trying to tell him he doesn't have to do it even though you know he knows it himself. He knows way more about life and love than you.

Just let him be, your inner voice scolds you.

"That I do." He simply smiles however as he admits to it, sitting down at the kitchen table, leaning his head on his hand to watch you. He looks tired- you instantly notice things like that, and it worries you sometimes. He mentioned he never had a burnout before, but maybe he just didn't notice because he never sees a doctor for his issues? His headaches are probably still bad.

Just leave him be, your voice scolds you again.

"There's proper groceries in there too, by the way." Jungkook says with his eyes now closed, and you notice that too- beneath all the candy he's bought, there's general groceries as well- and you're a bit embarrassed by it.

You're living your life just fine. It's not as luxurious as his might be, but you've got food in the fridge and a roof over your head, and that's enough for you. But Jungkook has this urge you've come to learn- he feels less lonely when he can share or offer something.

"You know I don't like it when you only eat canned foods and such." He says, before his eyes open-

"Do you wanna go nap?" You wonder, and he simply makes an almost purring noise in denial, furrowing his brows. "I don't want you to go home like that though.." You complain, running your fingers through his hair, over his scalp.

because you're hugging him, or rather his stomach, leaning onto his lap- which is cute, yes, and the position would be arousing under different circumstances- but he instantly helps you up from the cold kitchen floor to sit properly on his thighs this time, head resting in the crook of your neck with a deep sigh, arms wrapped around you.

Your signature scent fills his mind, the warmth of your body begins to seep through the fabrics of clothing separating your skin, and from the way he's holding you he can even faintly hear your pulse beat.

He doesn't care that the plastic chair is uncomfortable as hell.

He melts. He feels like it, at least. You always make him feel like he's weightless.

"Do you want me to stay over?" He wonders softly, tries to flirt, and you giggle.

"But you wanted to carve the pumpkin." He argues softly, eyes open again as he pulls himself together. "Let's do that then." He offers.

"Sure." You shrug. "You're a bit clingy at night, but I'll manage." You tease, earning his hand smacking your butt in return, laughter interrupting the soft moment. You're a lot better at this than he is, and he's reminded of that every time he's with you like this.

Maybe he can ask you to spend Halloween at his house this year? You could decorate, have dinner with Namjoon and the others, give out candy to the neighborhood kids. He's always done that last part, but he's never actually decorated his house with Evelyn. She always complained that it was too much work to do-

And then she'd leave for her party with her friends, every year, leaving him alone with a glass of whiskey and a crappy horror movie running on cable TV.

He doesn't want that. No when he's got you now- someone who doesn't leave him alone.

"We can nap first, and then carve the pumpkin?" You wonder. "Or, if you don't have anything else tomorrow, we can do it then, and just go to bed early today." You shrug.

Jungkook sighs. You shouldn't have to adjust so much to him and his schedule and his lack of energy these days- and most days. You're young, you should have someone to party with, or go on trips and have fun, especially now with the holidays approaching- not go to bed barely after sunset because you're old 'boyfriend' is tired from work. He'll never understand why you do this so willingly.

But, he also wants to be selfish. He's tasted that sense of tranquility you're offering him, and he's hopelessly addicted at this point.

"I don't have any clothes here." He mumbles, sighing as he forces his brain to work again for the moment. "I can come back tomorrow instead, hm?" He wonders, but you look at him unconvinced.

And then he realizes it, in the way your fingers cling to his button up shirt, in the look you give him that's almost one of fear-

"Oh munchkin.." He sighs. "Alright, I'll call a cab then, okay?" He reassures you, remembering your fears when it comes to this whole issue of driving while tired. He still feels bad for it- he'll probably remember your absolutely devastated expression for the rest of his life- and will forever try and make up for the pain he caused you that night. "I won't drive like this, promise."

"Thank you." You say. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he shakes his head.

"None of that. I forgot the impact it had on you, so I should apologize." He tells you. "If we take a thirty-minute nap right now, I'll be up and ready to carve the pumpkin tonight, how does that sound?" He asks, and you nod.

"If that's what you wanna do." You accept, and he leans in to press a kiss right onto your cheek.

"Of course." He chuckles, helping you stand up before he stands as well, moving however to cage you in against the low kitchen counter, face so close to yours he's already got it angled perfectly to catch your lips in his next move. "But I think you'll need to tire me out a little before I can sleep well later."

"You're exhausted, old man, you'll sleep just fine." You giggle, and at that, he grips your hips, gaze having sharpened at the challenge you poke him with, another need now rising inside of him as he watches your fingers undo his tie- his own, larger hands taking over to just pull it off quicker, the dark grey item probably useful later.

"I'll show you an old man, you brat."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook fanfic

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tulypes · 5 months

Text

nsfw alphabet: dick grayson

please like, reblog or comment. ♡ open orders i'm super inspired to write, lol. minors don't read.

tw: smut, oral sex, dirty talk, insinuation of drug use (cannabis/marihuana), Dick being a goofy pervert, degradation, hc a little long

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dick is a caring boyfriend, that's undeniable. but post-sex is always a round of sleep, you both fall completely asleep and love it. aftercare actually comes after a brief nap; You wake up, you put on a blouse and Dick puts on some underwear, then you go to the fridge, eat something silly together and watch some comedy film until you fall asleep again.

Or they talk about routine, future desires, marriages, children and everything else.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's a fan of ass. He loves!! likes to squeeze, hit, bite.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Men are visual and Dick doesn't shy away from that. He likes to see you swallowing his cum (if you don't like it, he won't complain, Dick is very respectful), but he goes crazy when you suck him whole and shows that you're swallowing it like it's your favorite flavor of ice cream.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I'll give two, I don't know if you'll like the second one, but let's go.

1: you both have several folders with lots of videos and photos of you having sex (obviously you both agreed to the amateur recordings and they were just between the two of you as a kind of fun – sometimes he even threw them in your face) — look how beautiful you were in that video, look at your face begging me to eat you. Girl, what is this?

2: He likes to smoke…...... Dick knew that marijuana wasn't Bruce's or some superheroes' favorite thing, but he smoked it sometimes. before sex it made him sensitive, he was literally BEGGING for you. After sex, it was more about relaxing, staying calm. Dick loved to drink wine and smoke

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is very experienced, after he lost his virginity, he never stopped. He knows exactly what he's doing, but that doesn't stop you from teaching him something.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ok, I'll stop for a moment here. It depends on the day, it depends on what you're feeling at the moment. when you two are in a more romantic vibe: missionary. He loves to look into your eyes, tell you how much he loved you, while sinking his dick into you, my beauty. WOW, he also LOVES LOOKING at your face with pleasure and HAVING full access to your breasts.

NOW, MY LOVES, IF DICK GRAYSON IS STRESSED WITH YOU FOR BEING A DEPRAVED BRAT: doggy style. DOGGY STYLE!!!!!

He will push your face into the mattress, he will hold both of your arms behind you and he will hit your butt so hard that you will have bruises for days. Seriously, he loves your ass slapping against his pelvis, you looking at him over your shoulder… this man will cry with passion.

— I love you so much, you bastard!

he'll go even more crazy if you hold his ankles ;)

Dick loves sucking you, the son of a bitch is a pussy addict, so he loves it when you sit with your legs wide open for him, giving him full view of everything. This boy will suck you from top to bottom, side to side.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I feel like the boy Dick is a little silly, at least what's in my head is super playful…. He'll be really fucking you, then he'll remember something, like a fall that Wally took in front of everyone, or some stupid joke, then he'll laugh a lot.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he doesn't like to let it grow, but if you let it grow, he doesn't care

— I'm a feminist man, the way you give me that beautiful little thing between your legs, baby, I'm going to eat it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

you share a lot of intimacy. In addition to being lovers, you are friends. you two share everything, so there are no problems in that regard.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

those videos there? What do you think they are for? When you're far from each other, he jerks off and doesn't have the slightest shame in admitting it. He sends a photo, teases you, says he misses you, moans your name loudly like a prostitute.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

everyone knows he's an exhibitionist. Sex in public or forbidden places was her greatest joy. you have sex in the car, you have sex in the movies, you have sex during Bruce's galas, you have sex during missions, you even have sex in the Batcave (don't tell Batman). he likes air deprivation, wow. He loves squeezing your neck with all his might while you smile like an idiot at him.

HE LOVES WHEN YOU GIVE A SQUIRT, DRINKS IT LIKE WATER AND STILL SAYS IT FEELS YUMMY

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

batcave. lie, I'm joking. So, despite being an exhibitionist clown, Dick loves having sex at home. He loves the comfort that home brings because you don't have to worry about clothes or what you're going to do next. PLUS THERE IS MUSIC!!! Who doesn't love a sex playlist?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think that if he knows that you want it, that the desire is mutual, it is already a motivation. Seriously, Dick is very respectful, so if you show any hint that you're not in the mood, say no at that moment, he won't try anything.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

menage. divide you. watching you have sex with someone else. and synonyms. Seriously, he doesn't like it! THE BIGGEST SUPPORTER OF MONOGAMY OF THE CENTURY. He likes being with you and that in addition to sex, so there's no way he can have a threesome.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves them both. loves to suck you, as I said. but he also loves receiving, Dick always praises his skills with his mouth. he loves sideways 69, because the pleasure is divided for both

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day and the moment, but it is generally faster and more difficult. you both liked this!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He likes it a lot, but he prefers complete sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dick is willing to do anything except menage. one time, you even joked with him about being a snack between him and his brothers…. Dick got upset, girl.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

The guy is a superhero and lived in a circus, he is resistance personified, but if he is too tired or injured, due to his tough routine as a nightwing, he won't get very far, okay?

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

when he found out that you had vibrators stored in the back of a drawer, it was like WOW, A DEVILIAN SMILE CAME ON THAT FACE. He loves using them, touching them at full speed to your breasts or clitoris.

— you have a dick amusement park, mini Dick will be jealous

Do you know what he loves? vibrators with remote control. This son of a bitch will make a point of sticking them in you and taking you to dinner. with every step you take, it will change your speed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he really likes it! you two were a great match in every aspect, so teasing is always welcome. you're doing something, he comes up from behind, kisses your neck, says he misses you, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU'RE TOGETHER ALL DAY, ALL WEEK. When you're on some not-so-important mission, he'll keep whispering how hot you look in the hero costume, he'll rub your ass whenever he gets the chance.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he is so noisy…

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Did you read the letter A of the alphabet? So, let's go. He always wakes up first, so he loves watching you sleep, no matter how messy your hair is or if there's drool on your cheek, he thinks you're beautiful. He will caress your waist, he will caress your scars, your stretch marks. It's not very sexual, but I think it's a good hc

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's big and thick, not in an absurd and lying way, but he's got a REALLY nice package. It's obvious that you preferred mini (or not so mini) Dick over vibrators.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

the bastard is always excited, he always makes you laugh. but in the morning…

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it turns off, ok? Don't expect much from this guy, especially after a round of weed and sex.

#nightwing x reader #dick grayson #nightwing imagine #dick grayson x reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x black!reader #smut

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pantherxrogers · 10 months

Text

Dating Luca (The Bear Headcanon)

Content warnings: kinda smutty 18+ only, explicit language, there's fluff too :)

A/N: Idc how much screen time Luca got, he has a whole personality in my head LMAO 😩 I hope you guys enjoy more Luca content! This is super short, but I had so much fun writing it 😄 My requests are wide open, so let me know what you'd like to see next! <3 If you liked this, please like/reblog! It means a lot! 😘

Summary: A short headcanon of what I imagine it'd be like to date our fav pastry chef 🥰

Let’s start with the fluffffff 😊

I feel like most of the reason we all love Luca (aside from the fact that Will Poulter plays him) is that he’s so gentle (but have you guys heard the term Stern Brunch Daddy?)

Let’s say you’re not very good at baking, doesn’t matter because he’s fully committed to teaching you. He will literally start with something as basic as baking a cookie from scratch and later making more complex desserts. It doesn’t even matter how long it takes because he just enjoys being around you :’)

Speaking of spending time together, Luca’s love language is defffff quality time.

When he spoke about learning from the chef who was much better than him (Carmy??) it made me think about how much he would enjoy just being around the person he loves. Whether you’re baking, watching a movie, or even napping together, the pair of you are like magnets.

He shares his love of food with you every chance he gets (he wants to combine two of his greatest loves 😭)

Going out to dinner with a chef is always a unique experience, but no matter what he’s letting you choose the restaurant (if he has to choose he'll just wind up cooking something for you at home since he can make it better anyways)

Thinking about how he’d definitely bake a birthday cake for you, spending hours on it because it needs to be perfect 😪 (he could bake a cake in his sleep but this isn’t just ANY cake)

He asks you to sample everything whenever he's coming up with a new menu item, he trusts your judgement and knows you'll be honest with him

When he’s working late, he tells you not to wait up for him (much to your displeasure) but every morning, you wake up to a new dessert in the fridge 🥺

He’s been doing it since you moved in together just because he knows it makes you smile (he’ll even leave little notes behind, sometimes silly, sometimes super sappy) you eat it up regardless

Now for the smutty stuff 😈

In the beginning of your relationship, Luca is SUUUPER shy. Like to the point that you have to literally spell it out that you want him to make a move.

Like Carmy, he doesn’t really have much time for socializing, so he might miss the cues that you throw at him.

The first time Luca spends the night at your apartment, he’s sure he’s going to pass out on like three different occasions

1. When you open the door, you’re wearing a satin robe that leaves very little to the imagination (He’s hard before he even sits down)

2. You’re baking together in the kitchen, taking every opportunity to bend over and "grab a mixing bowl", flashing your lacy thong in the process.

3. When you move into your bedroom because you’re getting “tired”, you ask him to unhook your bra for you, making a show of sliding the robe down your shoulders. And whoops! It just so happens to fall to the floor. 🤗

By that point, you’re done with the subliminals, pushing your ass back, feeling him straining against his jeans. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands (it’d be adorable if you weren’t painfully horny rn)

“Luca, you can touch my boobs if you want to, I swear I won’t mind,” you playfully tease him, shifting into a sigh when his hands immediately connect with your sensitive nipples.

That’s actually how the both of you found out that manhandling is one of the quickest ways to turn you on

Later in your relationship, he makes a show of tapping your ass (when it’s appropriate of course)

He casually shows his strength a lot because he knows it gets you going (thinking of him picking up those packs of flour 😓)

Both of you love the soft moments too. He’s a passionate lover, so slow, gentle sex is always amazing

Back to our regularly scheduled, fluffy programming 😋

Overall, I see Luca as a sweet, loyal boyfriend. The way he spoke about the chef he shadowed (again, do we think it was Carmy??) it seems like he really values the close relationships in his life

Of course, he values his relationship with you the most, always wanting to be the best version of himself for you (and vice versa) 🥰

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @nolita-fairytale @douceurrrr @mercang @eddiemunsonreader @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #will poulter fanfiction #will poulter #will poulter fanfic #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics

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featherandferns · 11 months

Note

ik this isn’t a prompt but i’m in love with the idea of jj calling the reader mama like maybe in bed or just being affectionate. they don’t have kids but it’s just a name he’s given her

"mama's mad" is still one of the best quotes of the show, so i've got u here. hope this is okay! idk why a lot of my stuff is set at breakfast time in the chateau. maybe i'm craving bacon (my poor vegetarian ass is suffering)...

(content warning - mentions of sex)

“If you two could screw a little quieter next time, there’d be no complaints here,” Kiara says to JJ the moment he walks into the kitchen on Sunday morning.

JJ makes his way straight to the counter where some bacon has been served up. He gladly grabs at it.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he replies, biting down into a piece of crispy strip.

John B is cooking eggs on the hob whilst Sarah leisurely slices lemons and oranges by his side, for infused water.

“Will you?” Kie asks.

“Probably not, nah,” JJ grins. She rolls her eyes.

“Where is your girl, anyway?” John B asks from the stove.

JJ opens the fridge and retrieves the carton of OJ, taking a swig.

“Napping. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” JJ can’t help but add with a slimy grin.

“You’re shameless, JJ,” Sarah sighs.

“You know it, princess,” he winks. He watches as Kiara starts mixing together ingredients in a bowl. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Oh, nice,” he hums. “Lemme see if mama wants any.”

By mama, he obviously means you. It’s a given that any ‘mama’ in JJ’s sentences refers to you; something the Pogues and yourself have casually come to accept. The moment you and JJ stopped beating around the bush and fessed up to your feelings like the semi-mature teenagers you are (it was practically a battle of who-dare-say-it-first), he had taken to calling you it. You weren’t exactly sure why. Had teased him about whether he had a mommy kink in private (which he neither confirmed nor denied). Mostly he did it to joke. It sounded nice in his northern accent, anyway. Drawled off the tongue smooth and sweet like honey. So, no complaints from any party, unless JJ got vulgar with it in front of the Pogues (which was fairly often, with it being JJ).

Heading down the hall, JJ pushes open the spare bedroom door and darts his head in. You’re still in bed, lounging on your back, hair a mess and neck covered in healing and forming love bites. JJ grins, proud like a kid winning a science fair contest.

“Yo, mamma bear? Pancakes or bacon?”

“Why do I have to pick between them?”

“Fair point. You want both then?”

“Mhm,” you sigh lazily, eyes shut. “Coffee too, if there is any.”

JJ cringes. “Think Pope made some.”

“Yikes. No, then.”

“You got it mama.”

With that, he wanders back into the kitchen and grabs a plate from the drying rack of the sink. It’s always piled high with pots like some rip-off modern art project. The leaning tower of pots and pans. He dumps some bacon on, holds out his plate for John B to serve up some eggs - straight from the pan - and makes Kie promise to save some pancakes. Then he’s back in the bedroom, two forks in hand, climbing back into bed to share the morning fry-up with you.

“This is the life,” you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as you eat.

JJ smiles and nods. You’re right. You’re always right, to be honest - not that he’d ever confess it. Only one of you needs a big ego, and JJ likes to think he’s claimed that spot.

“Wanna fish later?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Don’t mind really. As long as I’m with you.”

“Aw,” he grins, nudging you with his shoulder, making you laugh. He can see the flush to your features when he does. “You going soft on me, mama?”

“Only you,” you grin up at him.

JJ can’t take it when you look at him like that – like he hung the stars just so you can stand under them – so he grabs a strip of bacon and shoves it in your smiling mouth, making you laugh.

Yeah, this is the life.

#jj #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj drabbles #jj maybank drabbles #drabbles #thoughts #obx #outer banks #obx fics #obx drabbles #outer banks fics #outer banks drabbles #jj x reader drabble #jj maybank x reader drabble

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wekiamo · 1 year

Text

fell harder pt 2

skeet ulrich x fem!reader

a/n: here goes part 2! this is a lil longer than my fics usually are, i hope thats not a problem! have fun reading 🤍 BTW SKEET IN THIS GIF BYEE that man is something else

pt. 3 & masterlist

warnings: swearing, fluff

you didn’t get to sleep a lot at night. maybe it’s the anxiety you’re feeling, knowing that today you were going to meet almost everyone you were going to see very often from now on. it’s not a big deal for you, the only big deal is that in “everyone”, skeet ulrich is included.

you fear you’re gonna get nervous and say something weird, act weird making him dislike you. if that was anyone else, it would be okay. but imagine skeet ulrich disliking you? that’s what you think for almost 5 minutes after getting up from bed, while looking at yourself in the mirror.

you figure out you have to convince yourself that he’s a normal person just like you, and that there’s nothing to be scared about.

“yeah, it’s not a big deal. so what if he doesn’t like me?” you tell youself, before opening your fridge and grabbing an apple. you continue talking “i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do. that’s it!” you sound more convinced than you thought you would be, and that makes a smile grow in your face.

you jump happily around the house, until you get to the couch and throw yourself on it. you turn on the TV and you start watching some kids show, too busy biting your apple to change the channel.

it’s silly, but you find yourself not wanting to change it, so you just keep watching it until you’re done with your apple. you turn off the TV, and start feeling sleepy.

you close your eyes slowly, and then you fall asleep.

—

“damn, that was the best nap i’ve took in such a long time” you say, before checking what time is it.

it’s 4 pm. you remember you didn’t ask dave what time you’re supposed to show up to dinner, then you make your way to your room to get your phone.

“Hey Y/n, meet us at 7. I can pick you up if you want to” 2:20 pm

“smart guy” you think “it’d be cool if he picked me up. meeting someone for the first time in their car would be a… would be definitely a new experience”

“hey, sorry for taking too long, i took a nap” 4:07 pm

“but yes! imma send you my address rq hold on” 4:07 pm

you send him your adress.

you’re hungry.

it’s time for Topanga’s Burgers - your favorite place in the world. well, not really but thats what you call it. actually, it’s just your favorite place to eat burgers. its really near your house and that makes you love it even more. you have befriended literally all the workers there. you love the fact they’re all kind and they really like what they’re doing, you really appreciate it. it makes you remember of how amazing would it be if you had a job you’d love doing. and your last job was definitely not something you loved doing, in fact, it was the complete opposite. you quit it not too long ago and you were living with your savings and your mom’s salary. she lives with you, but she’s on vacation now. anyways, Topanga’s Burgers definitely gives you motivation to keep working hard to get where you want.

you take a bath, put on some clothes you like, do your personal hygiene, and you leave your house.

“y/n!!” a worker greets you with a big smile on her face, leaving the cashier area to come and give you a hug.

“keisha! hey, how have you been?” you hug her back tightly, happy to see her again.

keisha is a 40 years old cheerful and awesome woman. she’s probably one of the most fun friends you have. she also gives you amazing advice about literally anything you ask her about. she’s the best

“i’ve been worried about you. it’s been 3 days you’re not even coming to greet us anymore!” she says, with a genuine look of worry in her eyes. that statement of hers make it pretty obvious you come here a lot.

“yes, and i’m sorry! but i got some pretty good news”

“save it just for a minute” she says, and turns around to call the rest of the workers to hear the news you have “guys, come here! y/n’s back with good news”

everyone in the burger shop starts looking, but you don’t really care. it doesn’t embarrass you anymore.

you greet everyone coming your way as they make a circle and adjust to it, to hear the news.

“come closer” you say, and they do.

“you know when i auditioned for scream 7, right? so… i did it”

“YOU GOT THE ROLE?” keisha screamed, as some other workers gasp.

“I DID” you reply with a big smile and a happy nod, as they start jumping and screaming in excitement as you do too.

“you’re not so useless, are you?” tom joked, and everyone laughed including you.

“but seriously now, who’s going to be working with you?” tom asked in a curious tone

“there’s someone special. really special”

“hurry and give us a hint” said angelica, a funny old woman who works as a cleaning lady.

“okay, okay, you’ll have to get it right. it’s this really hot middle-aged man who you all know i always had a crush on”

“no way. skeet ulrich? he’s going to be in scream 7 too?”

“yes ma’am!”

“guys, didn’t scream end in the third movie?” linda asked.

“shut up linda, let her speak” the old woman shushed her daughter, making everyone let out a laugh

“and i’m going to meet him. today”

“wait the shootings are already starting?” tom asked you.

“no, it’s just that the cast is going to have dinner together today. and i’m going to meet SKEET ULRICH”

“tell us more. where’s it gonna be?”

“i’ll tell you all after you take my order, ‘cause im like really hungry… please?”

keisha comes running to the cashier area, to get your order. there’s another man there too in all black with a black cap too, kind of covering his face - he's probably waiting for a while now since the workers were all in a circle screaming and jumping few seconds ago.

you watch keisha greet the guy and take his order, walking to the cashier area to stand right beside him.

as she’s there taking notes of his order, he looks at you and pushes his cap up, while you turn your head to see him. you’re now able to see his face.

“oh my fucking god” you think.

“hi, i’m skeet. what a funny coincidence! we’re filming scream 7 together, right?” he greets you with a handshake and a grin, as you turn your body to him and not just your head

keisha gasps. she starts laughing at your face as she goes to prepare his order.

there’s no fucking way. skeet ulrich is right in front of you and 100% heard you saying he’s hot and you have a crush on him. your cheeks turn red.

“hello” you say stuttering a bit “i’m y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you” your hands still in his. his touch is warm and you find yourself not wanting to drop it. but you did, before it makes the situation awkward.

it’s not like you love him. it’s just that you’ve had a crush on him for the last 15 years. not a big deal… right?

you remember your own words.

i shouldn’t care about what he thinks of me. he’s a human like anyone else, so i’m gonna act like i always do.

“that’s it” you finish your sentence once again, but this time not out loud.

“so…” he starts

“here’s your order, sir. sorry for the wait, again”

“it’s okay, don’t worry about it. i was called hot, you know”

he really heard you. “shit”, you think to yourself

keisha laughs. you eye her, looking done and she covers her mouth to stop laughing.

“i’ll wait for you”

“nice. he wants to sit with me. how awkward is that going to be?” you think, but you stop quickly “no. it’s not going to be awkward. once again, he’s just a normal guy who’s talking to me! nothing more than that”

“like always, please”

keisha nods, still with a smile in her face stopping herself from laughing again. she goes to the kitchen and start preparing your order.

“listen, i’m sorry. can you pretend you didn’t hear me? please?”

“right ma’am. you didn’t lie, though. i am indeed hot”

“hey!” you reply, chuckling.

“sorry, sorry. but you laughed”

you start talking to him, waiting for keisha to come with your order. she’s usually really fast with your order, but today it’s taking a little too long.

she’s definitely doing it on purpose for you to keep talking to him.

you’re really enjoying it, though. he’s a nice guy and you’re a nice girl, a perfect match. you seem to get along really well. you notice something quickly - his moves are gentle and not too fast. you’re the complete opposite, but you love it when people move calmly like this, it comforts you, you have no idea why.

keisha gives you your order as you thank her and gives her a smile.

“let’s go ma’am” he smirks at you, guiding you to a table.

“you come here often?” he asks, obviously making fun of you

“take a guess” you say and you both giggle.

“is it going to be your first time?” he asks

“hm?”

“playing a part in a movie”

oh.

“ah yes. i’ve never been part of a movie before. i’m really nervous about it to be honest. i’m not sure if i’ll be able to do my best”

“don’t worry, it’s not rocket science. all you’re going to do is pretend to be someone for a while”

“are you sure that’s all?”

“well, i told myself that exact same thing for every role i played and it went great”

“i’m talking to billy loomis right now, so i guess i’ll have to trust you.”

“yes, i’m a middle aged hot man, you should trust me”

you both laugh and he starts again “jokes aside, i’ll always be on set. if you need some advice, just call me and i’ll help you, ok?“

“thank you skeet. i really appreciate it”

you kept talking to him until you were both done eating.

somehow, this guy makes you feel comfortable around him. maybe it’s just your daddy issues, but you doubt it. this man has something in him that feels just right.

“we gotta go now. we have dinner with the cast, remember?”

“am i gonna have to see you again?” you joke as you get up and he does too, and he gasps ironically

“the middle-aged man here did not like it!”

“oh stop it” you say walking beside him to the exit and he chuckles softly.

“you want a ride home, kid?” skeet asks you, as he turns to you.

“no thanks, i live near here. you can go”

“okay then, see you later tonight!” he waves tilting his head and smiling softly as he enters his car. you wave back.

“wait”

“yes?”

“do you want me to pick you up for dinner?”

oh god. you wanted to say yes, but what about dave? wouldn’t he be upset?

“i’m sorry skeet, dave’s already going to pick me up” you say, with sort of a sad tone, trying not to upset skeet.

“it’s alright. dave, huh?” he smirks at you

“do not.” you reply quickly, raising your eyebrowns and lowering your head

“okay, okay” he laughs “see ya!”

you smile in response.

in 3 seconds, you’re going to process everything that just happened.

“no way” you say out loud.

someone touched your shoulders behind you, making you jump with the unexpected touch, relaxing right after you see it’s angelica

“little girl you better tell me everything” she said with her hands still on your shoulders.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 7 months

Note

For the sisters serie, how would it be for reader to adapt to normal things and living without the red room and dreykovs control, and how would Nat, yelena, carol, etc react and help? I hope you like this idea for a fic

-💣

Through Your Eyes

Family is More Than Blood

Warning: mention of past sexual assault, big talk about consent, our lovely reader learning how to be a person, guilt, anxiety, mention of past Red Room trauma

Note: These aren't in timeline order per say, just moments in the reader's life that have shaped her.

Relationship: Carol x Reader, Avenger x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 4.4k

It shouldn’t be this hard, right? It was such a simple choice. Ice cream or fruit. Ice cream or fruit. Ugh, you were going to work yourself into a panic attack over a stupid choice. “Kid, you are letting all the cold air out,” you jumped at Tony’s voice and slammed the fridge and freezer closed.

“Sorry, I was distracted,” he raised a questioning eyebrow at you as he poured himself a cup of coffee. It was well past 5 o’clock, you had no idea how he drank that and managed to sleep. Well maybe he wasn’t sleeping, that was his secret.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you sighed. Tony leaned back on the counter and sipped his coffee.

“Try me,” you began to pick at the skin around your thumb.

“I wanted something to eat,” you explained. “But I couldn’t decide if I wanted ice cream or strawberries. The decision almost caused me to have a panic attack.” It sounded a lot stupider when you said it out loud. He was quiet and you expected him to have left.

“You know you can have both, right?” You spun around to face him.

“Both?” You questioned in disbelief. He nodded and set his coffee down.

“Sit and watch this,” you sat down and he grabbed the per-cut fruit from the fridge and the ice cream from the freezer. He scoped a few spoonfuls of ice cream in a bowl and sprinkled a few cut-up strawberries on top. “Here,” he handed you the bowl with a spoon but you refused to take it. “What?”

“I didn’t have to have both,” you said. “What if someone wanted those strawberries or that ice cream? I didn’t need both.”

“Kid,” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and placed the bowl in front of you. “If we run out FRIDAY will just order more. You can have anything you want as much as you want.”

“Oh,” you whispered. There was a limit to certain things in the Red Room; food that was given, free time without the cuffs, and a break from the ballet bar. Everything good was limited. “Uh, thanks, Tony. Sorry, that was so dumb.” And a little embarrassing.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiled. “If there is something specific you want let FRIDAY know or ask me, okay?” You nodded as he cleaned up the mess he made. “Enjoy!” He left you to devour your sweet treat.

You heard giggling as you entered the kitchen after your workout with Steve. A smoothie, a cold glass of water, and a nap was calling your name. Sitting on the island were Wanda and Yelena, hunched over a laptop and that was the source of the laughter. “What’s going on you two?” You asked, grabbing a glass of water.

“Yelena is a croissant,” Wanda said smiling. You stared at the Slovakian and your sister, mouth slightly open as you tried to process what she told you.

“I’m going to pretend I understand what that meant,” Yelena giggled and turned around the computer.

“It’s an internet quiz,” your sister said. “It will ask you a few questions and you answer at the end it will give you the type of bread you are, or dog, or cartoon character.” She explained. You tilted your head.

“Why do you want to know what type of flower you are?” You questioned, scrolling on the page to see the other quizzes. “What’s the point?” You saw Yelena roll her eyes and take the computer from you.

“There isn’t a point,” Wanda said. “It’s just a fun way to pass the time.” Fun? You weren’t allowed to have fun. There was always a mission or job that needed to be done. Fun was something you weren’t allowed to have in the Red Room.

“Can I take one?” You asked Yelena smiled, nodding her head excitedly. That was where Natasha found you, sitting between Wanda and Yelena with the computer on your lap. “I am not a red panda,” you whined. The two girls laughed at you.

“According to the internet you are,” Yelena smiled, pinching your cheek. “My big krasnaya panda (red panda).” You slapped her hand away.

“I hate you,” you deadpanned.

“There you are,” Natasha said, rounding the corner to stand in front of you. “I thought we were meeting at 3.” You frowned. You were done with your workout by noon so you could shower, eat, and maybe take a nap. Natasha wanted to meet with you because there were some Widows in Central America and the Avengers wanted to see if they could do some surveillance. You looked at the clock in the corner of the laptop. It was 3:15. Shit. You looked back at your sister, her arms were crossed and she wore a smirk on her face.

“I got distracted,” you cringed.

“They got you addicted to those dumb quizzes.”

“Hey,” Yelena said. “They aren’t dumb.” She defended. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Are we meeting or..”

“Yup,” you put the laptop on Yelena’s lap and stood up. “That was fin. See ya guys.” You followed Natasha to the conference room. “Sorry I was late,” you said to her as you sat down in the chair. “Time got away from me.” You were never late, when you needed to be somewhere you were early. If you were late there would be horrible consequences. Natasha waved you off.

“I’m just messing with you,” she smiled, handing you a folder. “Messing around and not working all the time is good for you. We all need to do it every once in a while. It reminds us why we keep fighting.”

Walking by Yelena’s room, you heard a groan from the slight crack. Frowning, you gently knocked on her door. “Go away,” she groaned again. You chuckled.

“It’s me,” you opened her door. Yelena was cocooned in the blankets on her bed. “Are you okay?” She burrowed her face in her pillow, muffling the sound she let out. “Come on, sestra,” you sat down on her bed and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. She flopped on her back, pouting.

“I don’t feel good,” you placed your hand on her forehead. She wasn’t warm. “No, it’s not that type of sickness,” she huffed out a sigh. “It’s that time of the month.” Her cheeks blushed slightly. Ah, that explained her mood the past few days. You smiled.

“What do you need?”

“Can you get my heating pad?” She asked. “I think it’s in Nat’s room.” You nodded, kissing her forehead. It was a quick trip to Natasha’s room to grab the heating pad and into the kitchen for water, a Gatorade, and some chocolate. You weren’t subjected to periods but you knew people who were and what they liked. Yelena sighed when you reentered with your arms filled with goodies. You bent down to plug in the heating pad. “Ugh, I hate having a uterus,” the off-handed comment made you freeze, subconsciously moving your hand to wear you bared the mark of the Red Room’s choice. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” Her panic snapped you out of the fog, turned on the heating pad, and placed it on Yelena’s stomach. You sat down and cuddled up against her.

“It’s okay,” you said and handed her the chocolate bar. She unwrapped it, picking at the bar slowly. You could tell she was still upset with herself. “Yelena, I’m serious. It’s okay. You didn’t mean any harm,” she sighed. Your sister sat up and placed her hand where she saw where you rested yours. Natasha saved Yelena before the graduation ceremony. One day she could have the choice of having children.

“Do you and Carol want kids one day?” You laughed.

“Funny enough we haven’t talked about that fair into the future,” you smiled, resting your hand on top of hers. The Red Room forced all Black Widows to be sterilized upon graduation. A child of your own was the one thing worth more than the mission. It made everything easier, with undying loyalty to the cause. “Not sure if I want kids,” you told her. “I never thought I’d be given the opportunely to have them.” Yelena nodded, moving to rest her head on your stomach.

“I think you’d be a great mom,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

“Do you think so?” You asked. She hummed in agreement. “Thank you,” you whispered. “Get some sleep.”

‘What the hell was the noise?” You thought as you walked out to the balcony. It sounded like a cat being murdered. The source of the sound was coming from Steve, a guitar resting on his lap. You grimaced at the note that was very out of tone. "Whatcha doing?” You asked, holding the book you were going to read behind your back. The super soldier looked at you, pausing the song he was playing.

“Trying to learn how to play the guitar,” you smiled, sitting down in the empty chair next to him.

“And how’s that going?” He sighed and set the guitar on the side table between you and him.

“Well Sam was out here with me at one point so does that answer your question.” You chuckled.

“It takes some practice,” you said, leaning back in the chair and opening the book. Steve mirrored you but with a sketchbook. “You’ll get it,” you added and you both fell into a comfortable silence. But as you read your book, you kept glancing at the guitar. It had been so long since you’d felt the strings of a guitar underneath your fingers. You enjoyed every callous you earned. Sighing, you put the book down and carefully picked up the guitar. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as you tuned it and began to strum. It was a weird feeling it’s been years since you felt this level of peace. Your smile grew. The world seemed much smaller when a guitar was in your hands.

“I didn’t know you could play,” you jumped, stopping mid-song. “Sorry,” Steve chuckled. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Not, it’s fine,” you ran your hand over the body of the guitar. “I was in my own little world,” you sighed. “I haven’t played since Ohio and I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” You admitted, resting your chin on the guitar.

“I could tell. I haven’t seen you smile that big before,” you felt your body warm up. Steve closed his sketchbook and stood up. “You should keep it. You’re the best person to play it.” It took a moment for your brain to register what Steve said.

“Wait,” you stood up. Steve was already at the door. “Hold on. I can’t just keep this.” It was ridiculous, a little absurd.

“Why not?” He questioned with a tilt of his head.

“Because,” you licked your lips. “Because I’ve done nothing to deserve this.” He sadly smiled at you. Did you say something wrong?

“You know you can be given a gift without having to earn it,” that couldn’t be correct. You had to earn everything. Extra portions at dinner time. A mission success meant you could get a break. “Besides, that thing has been bouncing between everyone looking for a home,” he continued. “I think you can give it one.” You stared at the guitar in your hands.

“Thank you, Steve,” he shrugged.

“You should play for all of us,” he said. “At dinner or something.” You smiled.

“I may need some practice before I start performing shows.” He chuckled.

“Well enjoy,” he left you alone. You sat back down, guitar resting on your lap. It was bittersweet holding this instrument again. You wondered what happened to the one you had back in Ohio or any of your things? Was it confiscated by SHIELD? Or local authorities? Was it donated and now someone else was learning how to play on the very same instrument you used? Sighing, you began to play again.

“So bye, bye Miss. American Pie-”

There was something off about the day. You were just off all day, having no motivation or energy to do anything. So you called it an early night and curled up underneath the covers. A gentle knock followed by the door opening caused you to sit up. It was Carol. “Hi,” she smiled. “Mind if I join you?” You shook your head and lay back down. You heard her walk over to your closet to grab some clothes she left in your room. The bed shifted as Carol climbed in. She was quick to bring you into her arms. Sighing, you felt her lips graze against your skin. Her hands traveled underneath her shirt. Any other night you would welcome her advances and where this was going to lead but you were so tired.

So when Carol turned you over on your back and covered her body with hers, you didn’t fight her. She was your girlfriend and if she was in the mood you should just let her. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey, are you okay?” Carol asked, sitting back on her heels.

“Why-why did you stop?” You asked.

“Because I asked you a question and you didn’t answer.” Oh. You must have dissociated. “Do you not want to have sex?” No. That was the word fighting to come out of your mouth but if you said no would she still want to be with you? Would she hit you like the orders and force you anyway?

“It’s fine,” you said, placing your hands on her thighs. “You are in the mood,” you sat up and put your arms around her neck. “So you can use me.” Your girlfriend stared at you as if she was trying to figure out what you said.

“Use you?” She questioned. You nodded. “I’m not going to use you like you’re some object.” You frowned and sat back. Why wasn’t she going to have sex with you? “Baby, if you don’t want to have sex at any time you can say no.” Your eyebrows scrunched together. No? You weren’t allowed to say no.

“But-but if you want to and as your girlfriend I should let you.” Carol sighed and crossed her legs on your bed. Was she upset with you?

“You have ownership of your own body. It doesn’t matter if I want to have sex, you owe me nothing. I should have asked for consent first.”

“Consent?” You said the world slowly as it felt foreign on your tongue.

“Yeah consent,” she said. “So you know how I would ask to hug you when we weren’t officially together,” you nodded. You always wondered why she did that. “I was asking for your consent to touch you. I didn’t want to assume it was okay.”

“But it is. You can touch me.” She smiled.

“Maybe on some days you don’t want me to and you can tell me no and I’ll respect that.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “You must think I’m so stupid.” You looked down at your hands. Gently, she used her pointer finger to lift your head to look at you.

“Never. The Red Room took your and your sister’s autonomy. I will help you get that back. So,” she smiled. “What do you want to do?” You sighed, biting your tongue from telling her you wanted to have sex.

“Can we cuddle? I’m exhausted.” She nodded and climbed off the bed to help you pull back the covers. Once you were under them, she lay down next to you and put her arm around you. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” you heard the smile in her voice. “Now sleep.” And you did, safely in her arms.

“Melina-” Natasha heard the strain in your voice as she walked by your room. You were pacing; 5 steps, turn around, and another 5 steps. “I know but if you-” you were cut off again. Natasha couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation but she could tell you weren’t agreeing with whatever was being said. “Yes, mama. I will. Talk to you soon. Bye.” You hung up and stared at your phone.

“You know,” Natasha made her presence known before you threw your phone against the wall. “I don’t think your phone deserves that.” You chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I think Stark could cough over a few bucks to get me another one,” she hummed in agreement and entered your room.

“What’s going on with you and Melina?”

“It’s nothing,” she gave you a pointed look. You sighed. “Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t listen or even try to understand my point of view on something,” you tapped your phone against your thigh. “I was cycled through the Red Room four times before you were born,” you mimicked the older Black Widow accent so well it made Natasha smile. “And I get that it must have been so hard and painful but-”

“It’s not an excuse to invalidate what you went through,” Natasha said, finding the words for you. You looked at her, nodding your head.

“Exactly,” you looked forward again. “When she finished her work with him she got out. Things just got worse,” Natasha knew this conversation was about Melina but there was a part of her that wondered if that was directed at her too.

“It’s common for daughters to fight and not see eye to eye,” Natasha witnessed Laura and Lila go toe to toe.

“Yeah but most mother-daughter relationships weren’t created by a deep undercover Red Room mission to steal information from SHIELD aka HYDRA,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder. “I’m so glad I don’t live with them anymore,” the redhead laughed. “I’m serious. I think I’d kill Alexei by now,” Natasha smiled and took your hand in hers.

“Do you hate them?” She found herself asking. “Like do you wish they were stronger to say no to him.” You were quiet. Natasha could see your eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

“I think that resentment will always be there,” you said. “I was so angry at them when we first arrived at the Red Room.”

“Really? I had no idea,” you acted like their betrayal was something you expected. You chuckled.

“That’s because I hid it from you,” of course you did. Natasha wasn’t surprised by that. “But I thought about getting my revenge on them all the time. I thought I wanted to kill them.” You admitted.

“What changed your mind?” You sighed.

“Because they weren’t the problem. They were just part of the system that was created far before their time.”

“I’m not sick,” you mumbled, fighting a sneeze that was tickling your nose. Yelena and Natasha stared at each other before rolling their eyes. “I’m serious!” You pouted, sniffling slightly.

“Oh yeah?” Natasha questioned. “How come Carol told us you didn’t sleep last night because you were up coughing?”

“Traitor,” you huffed and failed to keep a straight face as one sneeze after another escaped. You groaned, a pressure building behind your eyes.

“It’s probably just a cold,” Yelena said, jumping on the table next to you. “Helen will just give you medicine and you’ll feel better in no time,” that was the problem. You hated taking anything that you were told would ‘help’. “Maybe she’ll give you a lollipop.”

“Yelena-” Before Natasha could finish her thought the door opened but instead of Helen, a man walked in. “Bruce,” your sister said. “I wasn’t aware you were back.” He gave her a small smile.

“I got back late last night. Helen got pulled away in a meeting with Steve and Tony so she asked me to help out,” he turned his attention to you. “You must be Y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Bruce,” he approached you with his hand extended to you but you refused to take it, frozen in your spot. Could they hear your heart beating? “Would you be more comfortable with Dr. Cho?” He asked. His question snapped you out of the trance you were in.

“No,” you said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I’ll let you know everything I’m about to do before I do it, okay?” He could sense your hesitation. A small nod was all the consent you could give and the exam began. He listened to your lungs, asking you to breathe in and out, and took your temperature. You tried to get your body to relax but it wouldn’t. It was tense with tension every time Bruce touched you. His touch was gentle, a little hesitant but you were waiting for the shoe to drop. Soon his hands would leave bruises, would grab you, and force you down. “Looks like you have a small upper respiratory infection,” he said. “Which is odd since you were given the serum, right?” You didn’t respond “Are you under more stress or training harder?”

“I don’t think our sister knows how to relax,” Yelena mumbled and glared at her. Bruce smiled.

“Well I recommend some rest and I’ll prescribe you an antibiotic,” he wrote all this down on his tablet. “I don’t want to interfere too much but the medicine should remind the serum to do its job. Take it easy for the next few days.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Natasha said for you. You forced a smile as the doctor left. “Want to talk about what just happened?” You sighed but a violent coughing attack ripped through you. Natasha grimaced and walked over to you, rubbing your back to soothe the cough.

“I think I’m sick,” you mumbled. Yelena laughed.

“Yeah no shit but listen to what Bruce said and you’ll be better in no time,” So, that was the problem. You refused to take the antibiotics and decided to try to sweat the infection. That was where Bruce found you, holding onto a punching bag as a violent cough left you breathless.

“Your sisters told me I could find you here,” you tensed up at the sound of his voice. Another cough caused you to sway on your feet and Bruce reached out to steady you, this time you didn’t hide your flinch. Immediately, he pulled back his hands. You slumped against the wall, rubbing your chest to ease the pain. It helped. “Do you want me to get Helen or someone you’re comfortable with?” You shook your head.

“I’m fine,” you took a sip from your water bottle. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He stared at you.

“That was the most cliche line you could have said,” he deadpanned but it made you smile. You lowered yourself onto the ground and tried to collect your thoughts. But Bruce was patient and didn’t rush you to speak. Instead, he sat down in front of you with enough space to not make you feel trapped.

“In the Red Room, we were given pills and we were to take them without question mostly by male doctors,” you explained. There was still fear whenever Helen or Melina gave you medication but it helped they were females. “Sometimes it did help, the pain or sickness went away but other times,” you dug your nails into your hand. “Other times we would black out and wake up to a man on top of us.” You swore you saw a flash of green appear on his neck but the doctor covered it up with a cough. “So it’s me, not you.” It was his turn to be quiet and analyze the information you told him.

“Natasha almost broke my arm when I tried to patch her up after a mission,” you chuckled, that sounded about right. “She wouldn’t let Yelena see me alone. I can’t begin to understand what you and your sisters went through,” he sadly said. “But I’m not going to force you to be around me. It’s a trust I’m willing to earn, on your terms, and however long it takes.”

“Thank-thank you, Dr. Banner,” he smiled and stood up.

“I’ll have Helen set up another examination,” he said. “She may prescribe you a different and stronger antibiotic,” you bite back a groan, it was your fault anyway. “Get some rest or I’ll have FRIDAY ban you from the training room. Doctor’s orders.” He joked.

“Aye, aye captain,” you gave him a mock solute. He chuckled and left you alone. With a sigh, you rested your head on the wall. The serum helped you avoid sickness and long-lasting injuries but it was a water-down version unlike what they gave to Steve and the Winter Solider. So some of the bruises and injuries from their hands would last a little longer. It was another way for all the Widows to be under their control. But you were free and safe from them and Helen and Bruce were trying to help. They wouldn’t hurt you. You kept repeating it over and over again until you believed it.

It was a foreign feeling as you sat on a blanket near the pound of the Avenger’s compound. Feet bear and resting on the grass. Your fingers strummed on the guitar and hummed along to the song you were playing. Peace. That was the state of mind you were feeling. It was overwhelming. It was strange. But nice. You heard footsteps approaching, but the sound didn’t stop you from playing. You felt the warm hands of your girlfriend resting on your shoulders. She squeezed them. “How are you, baby?” You smiled, looking over your shoulder.

“Good, I’m happy which is odd.” She chuckled.

“Odd? Why is it odd?” You shrugged.

“Never thought I would be happy,” she kissed the top of your head.

“You deserve all of this and more,” she promised. “Now come on, teach me how to play.” You laughed and handed her the guitar. You stood up on your knees and maneuvered her hands on the guitar. As you were explaining the different notes and chords, she was staring at you instead of the guitar.

“What are you looking at?” You giggled.

“Just the most beautiful person in the entire world,” you rolled your eyes and fought the smile that spread across your face.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Captain. Now focus.”

“Yes ma’am,” she teased and began to listen to what you were teaching her. You smiled as she played the cords with some hesitation. This was your life, your beautiful life.

Also, while writing these stories. I don't think I've written Carol asking the reader to be her girlfriend. May write a quick drabble about that.

#family is more than blood au #black widow sisters #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #bruce banner x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you #black widow one shot #black widow imagine #black widow fanfiction

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malewgtfstories · 8 months

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BIG BRO

Iseah has always been a cocky evil older brother to John. Iseah was a lean, fit, and muscular high school dropout. He always made fun of John for being overweight and called him mean names such as porker, and pig.

One day John woke up and grew tired of his misstatement. Thus he concocted a plan to fight against his wicked bro. He went to his best friend who just so happened to be a witch and knew of a way to switch the tables. The first step was to switch one of Iseah's favorite jock straps with an enchanted one. After a few hours, you would see some distinct changes. The only way to make such drastic changes permanent was for him to wear it for 5 hours. Wanting to take revenge he accepted the offer.

Iseah was in love with his "lucky" jock strap. He always wore it and never washed it. He would either be wearing it or nothing under it. So while Iseah was taking a shower John took it and gave it to his best friend. They quickly enchanted it and put it back to where it was. As Iseah come out of the shower he felt like he wanted to show off his toned body to his porker little brother. So all he put on was the oh-so-enchanted jock strap. While he was leaving the bathroom he felt a little groggy and a little tired. Iseah went to take a little nap, unbeknownst to him as he was sleeping his whole reality was bending before him. when he woke up from his 4-hour nap, he found it quite difficult to stand as he felt like his "little" bro was sitting on top of him. he opened his eyes to see a round mound lying underneath his blanket. He was horrified to see a thick gut underneath.

He stood up in a panic tripping over stuff as his center of gravity was off. His parents walked into the room and were worried over all the ruckus.

"What happened, BIG GUY?" said his dad.

Big guy? he was never called big guy.

"Honey, are you hungry I'll fix you something to eat. A BIG BOY like you needs to eat," said his mom.

He was confused they were treating him just like his little bro. He pushed past his parent and "ran" to the bathroom. he saw to his horror his face stuck in a body bigger than his younger brother. He felt as if his whole world was caving in, but at the same time, he felt an urgency to eat. He waddled his way to the kitchen to his younger brother look at him with shock in his eyes.

"Bro, what happens?"

"I don't know bro but I'm starving".

John with delight told his mom to make food since they were both starving. Their mom had a tendency to make the most fattening type of food. Iseah would usually stay away from the food but now he didn't stop himself and ate like he never had before. Even after so much food in his stomach, he was still hungry for more. he scavenged and ate all of the leftovers in the fridge to satisfy his hunger. Soon enough John started to fall in love with his new lifestyle only wanting to eat and play video games with his bro. As soon as the clock hit the hour mark Iseah was permanently stuck in his balloon formed to Johns's delight him and his Bro could bond and feast like real bros. After that day Iseah was truly the Big Bro.

#thin to chunky #permanent tf #male weight gain stories #male transformation

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lionlena · 11 months

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You're hot... (JavierPeñaxsick!reader)

So, this is a surprise for @creedslove

I hope you feel a little better after reading this. You deserve Javi to take care of you, honey.

Warnings: None, just fluff

You liked Javier Peña. He was your boss and you thought he was the right man to take down the Cali Cartel. You've heard what others have said about him. That when he was chasing Escobar, he was working with Los Pepes. That he was an asshole... a manwhore. And yet, you couldn't think badly of him. Maybe because he was nice to you from the start. He never ordered you do something. He always used the word "please." It was the same this time: "Y/N, can you sort the papers I left on the couch in my office, please. I have to do something urgent and I don't know if I'll be back today."

And how could you refuse? First, he was your boss. Secondly, he was looking at you with those puppy brown eyes. And three, he was so damn hot.

Unfortunately, you were having a hard time sorting the documents. Normally you handled these things better, but today you felt bad. You had runny nose and a headache since morning, but you thought it was just a slight cold.

You ran your hand across your forehead, "Damm, why is it so hot in here?"

You looked around your boss's office and groaned. There was still a pile of papers on his desk. It was early evening, everyone else had gone home, and you were terribly tired. You looked at the couch. Maybe if you lie down for 10 minutes, your work will go faster after a nap. You just close your eyes. For while.

You curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

You woke up to the feeling of something pleasantly cool touching your forehead. You stretched, opened your eyes... Jesus Christ!!!

Warm brown eyes looked at you with tenderness. Javier Peña, your boss, caught you sleeping at work and was now kneeling by the couch, dangerously close to your face. You didn't know what to say. He spoke first.

"You're hot."

Okay, maybe you just dreamed it.

"Umm... Thank you, I guess."

Javier let out a small chuckle.

"I mean you're hot, you've got a fever, hermosa."

Well, if you had a fever, it was Javier who made you hot as hell.

You sat down awkwardly, being careful not to hit him in the process as Javier was still kneeling by the couch. You looked half-consciously around the office and realized with horror that you had fallen asleep for over two hours.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry... I was going to finish sorting the papers, but..." A sudden shiver went through your body. "I was so tired."

Javier started looking around, you thought he was looking for documents, but it turned out he was looking for something for you. When he realized there wasn't any blanket around, he got up and took off his jacket, then placed it over your shoulders. The material was warmed by his body and you immediately felt better. You have blushed, but he couldn't see it because of the fever.

"Don't worry about it. I shouldn't put so much work on you."

"It's nothing," you whined.

"I'll drive you home."

"What about the documents?"

"Fuck it," he said and extended his hand to you.

All the way to his car, he held you gently and you couldn't help but snuggle into his body. You were sick. You needed comfort, and he obviously didn't mind. As you sat in the car, he asked you for your address and if you needed anything from the store. Medicines? Food? He was so caring. Would others call him "an asshole", now? He certainly wasn't like that in your eyes.

Javier came home with you. He made sure you had the medications you needed. He made you sit on the couch saying, "I'll make you some hot tea."

"You don't have to. I'll be better soon. I have leftover soup in the fridge, I'll warm it up and eat it.”

He shook his head and covered you with the blanket you always kept on the couch. You were still wearing his jacket, but he didn't seem to care.

"Sit here. I'll take care of everything." He raised his eyebrows. "It's official order from boss."

You didn't have the strength to argue with him. You were so comfortable on the couch. You've been watching your boss move swiftly around your kitchen. He warmed up the soup, made you some tea, and set it on the table along with the pills. Then he sat next to you and made sure you ate everything. It was quite funny.

"You know, I'm not a baby," you murmured.

"I would have believed it if I hadn't found you sleeping in my office with a high fever."

You put your head down and whispered:

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't fall asleep there."

You felt Javier put his hand on your knee.

"No, it's not like that. I'm not mad at you for falling asleep. I just don't understand why you agreed to help me if you weren't feeling well?"

You looked at him and shrugged. What happened next was like a dream. Javier gently stroked your cheek.

"Next time tell me you're not feeling well." He got up and grabbed the empty soup bowl. "You're free tomorrow. Rest while I clean up."

You ran out of words. Your boss pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and went to wash your dishes. Normally you'd feel embarrassed, but after you ate the warm soup and took your medicine, you were really ready to go to sleep. And Javier's jacket smelled of his perfume. You lay down and fell into a light sleep.

What happened next must have been a figment of your imagination.

Before leaving your apartment, Javier leaned over you and kissed your forehead whispering:

"Que duermas bien, mi dulce"

You might even think it was all a figment of your fever-ridden mind, but when you woke up in the morning you were still wrapped in his jacket. You smiled. Maybe Javier Peña was an asshole, but not to you.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier is so sweet #narcos #narcos season 3

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katelynnwrites · 1 year

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If You Ever Wanna Fall In Love, If You Ever Wanna Bet On Us, If You Ever Wanna Be My One (I’ll Be Waiting) | Ona Batlle

warnings: so much fluff

word count: 2068

summary: the story of how you fell in love with ona and how ona fell in love with you

chosen song: i’ll be waiting by cian ducrot

a/n: bonus chapter 5 of you were bigger than the whole sky (you were more than just a short time)

Ona seems nervous as she leads the way to her house, which is a short walk from the bus stop.

You had never been there before but when Ona invited you over for lunch, there was no way you were going to say no.

You had only known the brunette for two weeks but you had quickly learnt that it was almost impossible for you to say no to her. Plus you would never miss an opportunity to spend more time with her.

The twelve year old defender’s very good at making you laugh and you feel entirely comfortable with her. You like her.

‘We’re here.’ Ona softly says.

Ona’s house is a nice one and as she opens the door, you realise that it’s homey and obviously well lived in.

It makes sense that Ona would live here because her house feels warm and welcoming, exactly like how Ona feels to you.

‘It’s lovely Oni.’ You genuinely tell her.

Ona practically beams, ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to my mother.’

Ona takes your hand in hers and guides you to her kitchen, where her mother is making tapas.

She greets you with a warm smile and immediately says, ‘Hi. You must be the friend my daughter is always talking about.’

‘Mama.’ Ona protests, her cheeks flushing.

Even the tips of her ears are red and you laugh.

‘Hola Mrs Batlle.’

‘Hola. And none of that Mrs Batlle nonsense please, it makes me feel old. You can call me Mama or Mami, whichever you prefer because I have a feeling that Ona here, will be bringing you around a lot.’

By then, Ona’s as red as a tomato and she disappears from the kitchen, mumbling something about setting the table.

Ona’s mother laughs, before looking you up and down.

‘You need some feeding. Look how skinny you are, don’t your parents feed you? Come on, sit down and eat this.’

She hands you a plate of food, practically shooing you out into the dining room.

******

You don’t say anything, simply sitting down next to your fourteen year old girlfriend and taking her hand in yours. (even at fourteen, she has a tendency of getting too far into her own head).

You squeeze it tightly and Ona inhales sharply.

Leaning closer to her, you murmur, ‘Onita I know you’re blaming yourself for that own goal. I’m not going to tell you to stop because I know you better than that. But I just want you to remind you that you are an amazingly talented defender and that no one else is blaming you. It’s only halftime and we still have another forty five minutes to make a difference.’

It’s a small stolen moment in the crowded locker room where your coach is giving a loud halftime speech. The air stinks of sweat and it couldn’t be a less romantic moment but it’s the one where Ona realises she’s in love with you.

******

‘Hola Mami. Is Ona home?’ You say as you walk into the kitchen of Ona’s home.

Ona’s mother greets you with a tight hug.

‘Sí. I think she’s having a nap.’

You laugh. Fifteen year old Ona had recently discovered that naps after training sessions are a good idea.

‘She’ll probably be asleep for a few more hours so sit down and I’ll fix you a plate.’

You begin to protest her generosity but she gives you a knowing look.

‘You only went home to shower after practice didn’t you? You haven’t eaten yet.’

Ona’s mother takes your silence as an answer and she starts taking out leftovers from the fridge so that she can warm them up for you.

‘Thanks Mami.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She hums and kisses your forehead maternally.

******

When you’re done eating, you wash your plate despite Ona’s mom telling you that you didn’t have to.

Then you head up to your girlfriend’s room.

The brunette is all wrapped up in her comforter, clutching her stuffed cheetah close.

You giggle softly, walking over and pressing a kiss onto her cheek.

Ona doesn’t even stir so you pull the comforter back slightly and slip in behind her.

Her twin bed is cramped with the both of you in it but it lets you be closer to her so you have no complaints.

Gently, you drape an arm around her waist and settle yourself down for a nap.

******

Ona wakes to find you curled into her and she smiles.

‘I don’t know when you got here but I love that you’re here.’

She happily runs her fingers through your hair, adjusting herself so that she’s able to tuck your head under her chin. The defender easily puts her stuffed cheetah aside in favour of holding you.

Ona is looking at you with complete adoration when her mother quietly knocks on her door before opening it.

‘Oh you two are so cute.’

Ona grins, ‘I don’t know about me but mi novia is plenty cute.’

Ona’s mother laughs.

‘Well do you know if she’s staying for dinner?’

The brunette thinks for a moment and then nods, ‘Probably. She said her parents won’t be home until late and I’ll feel better if she ate with us instead of alone at her house.’

‘Okay.’

The older Spaniard makes to leave but pauses.

‘Ona?’

‘Yes Mama?’

‘You look at her like she’s your whole world. When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?’

‘Mama!’ Ona starts but as her mother raises an eyebrow, she sighs.

She looks at you for a moment before looking back up at her mother.

The fullback keeps her voice soft, not wanting to wake you, ‘Not yet. I can’t tell her yet. We’ve only been dating less than a year and I don’t want to scare her off.’

Ona’s mother chuckles, ‘Have you seen the way she looks at you? Ona, she’s completely in love with you too.’

The brunette blushes and whispers, ‘I hope so. I really do.’

******

After you and Ona exchange your first I love yous, it’s like Ona can’t stop (and you hope she never does).

You may have admitted your love for her first but she is just (if not more) eager to make sure that you know she loves you too.

She tells you she loves you every chance she gets and your heart never fails to skip a beat whenever she does so.

‘I love you.’ She says now, pressing a little kiss to the skin just below your ear.

You shiver and she repeats the action, whispering another soft, tender, ‘I love you.’

Aitana gags, ‘You guys, not here!’

******

‘You came!’

Ona leans up on her tiptoes so that she can kiss you. She had sprinted right over to the stands as soon as the whistle had blown, not bothering to celebrate the important win with the rest of the Barcelona B team. (she celebrates with you before she turns to her family, much later but her parents aren’t mad, knowing how much you mean to her. her mother is in fact too busy taking photos of the both of you to even think about it).

‘Of course I did.’ You whisper, smiling at the sight of your sweaty sixteen year old girlfriend who had just played a brilliant ninety minutes.

Ona gently pushes you back to make some space so that she can climb over the barrier.

She does and she’s extra cautious not to accidentally bump into you, not wanting to hurt you any further.

Your persistent foot injury had been keeping you from playing and that had been getting you down recently.

Ona had been trying her best to comfort you but she felt like the fact that she had been playing regularly while you weren’t was making you upset.

The brunette carefully kisses you again and you frown.

‘Oni why are you holding me like I’m going to disappear?’

Ona’s hands squeeze your waist and she hugs you, being mindful of the walking boot you had on again.

‘I-I didn’t think you were going to come.’ She admits.

She hadn’t dared to text you prior to the game, not wanting to rub salt into your obviously painful wound.

Her words leave you confused but you answer her anyway, ‘Why wouldn’t I come Ona? This is a big game for you and if I can’t be on the field with you, I want to be your WAG. I’m here to support you and our teammates. Mostly you though.’

You lower your voice to a whisper for the last sentence, a teasing smile tugging on your lips.

‘I didn’t think I could love you more. But I do. I love you so much.’ Ona earnestly says.

‘Well I love you so much too.’ You promise, hugging your girlfriend tightly.

‘Never doubt that you are important to me mi amor. I’m always going to support you.’

The brunette sniffles, pushing her face into your neck and placing a short kiss there.

That is the first moment Ona realises she’s going to love you for the rest of her life.

******

Sitting up, you happen to glance at the clock on your bedroom wall.

‘Ona? It’s six already!’

Ona looks up from her textbooks, her eyes wide as she realises you’re right.

‘Joder.’

Hurriedly, she starts putting her school work back into her bag and you help her collect all her things to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything.

‘Gracias mi amor.’ Ona pecks your cheek quickly, rushing out of your room.

She was supposed to have left your house at five forty five because her grandparents were coming over for a family dinner but obviously she had not been keeping track of time.

You laugh, just thinking about the flustered expression on your seventeen year old girlfriend’s face as you straighten the covers on your bed.

Making your way to your front door, you lock it. Through the little window, you can see that it’s started raining.

You’ve just taken out your phone to text Ona, to wish her a safe trip home when there’s a series of loud knocks on your door.

You check the peephole and are startled to see your completely drenched girlfriend on the other side.

Opening the door, you begin, ‘Ona hey-’

She presses her lips to yours before you finish your sentence.

When she pulls away, she tenderly tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

‘Bye.’ She breathes.

Ona takes a step back into the rain, her nearly waist length hair plastered to the sides of her face.

‘Onita what?’ You shake your head in confusion, a little smile gracing your face as you look at the soaked brunette.

Ona shrugs lightly, ‘I forgot to give you your goodbye kiss. I love you mi amor but I’ve really got to go. I am so late. Bye!’

Your girlfriend blows you a kiss before running back up the street to the bus stop.

Giggling, you watch her till she’s out of sight.

It occurs to you as you go back inside, that for the rest of your life, she’s the one you’re going to be in love with.

******

The rest of the world finds out that the two of you are in love with each other when Manchester United uploads their newest The Tour View vlog.

Both of your social medias frequently feature each other and neither of you are afraid to let the fans know how much you love each other. If a curious fan were to scroll down, they would see that from the very beginning of the two of you’s Instagram presence, there were posts about each other.

During the three, almost four year break, Ona had not taken down any of your posts together. You had but right after you and Ona got back together, you’d unarchived all of them.

But it’s that one YouTube video that blows up.

In the short clip filmed by Millie during the flight, you’ve got your head resting on Ona’s shoulder as you sleep.

Millie zooms in on the both of you with the camera and Ona can be seen gently pressing a kiss onto the side of your head.

When Ona mouths an ‘I love you’ to further convey her affection, the English woman can be heard saying, ‘And over there we have United’s one and only couple. Look how disgustingly in love they are.’

Spanish Translations:

hola - hello

sí - yes

mi novia - my girlfriend

joder - fuck

gracias mi amor - thanks my love

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eupheme · 5 months

Text

— i’ll be seeing you | part i

[masterlist] | [playlist]

invisible man!alfred pennyworth x f!reader

rated e - 6k

tags: invisible man!au, age gap, holiday fluff, light angst, alfred is fully invisible/silent to reader, shared spaces, mutual pining, magical elements, bruce being bruce, mentions of food/eating, unintentional gaslighting and domestic (non-sexual) voyeuristic observation, the beginning of feelings

a/n: hi! here is part i! this was a one-shot that got a little long, so I am splitting into three parts. The rest are mosty written, I hope to have them up soon (and really hope you enjoy this little holiday au!) 💕❄️

There's something wrong with Wayne Tower. Doors creak open on their own. Your things move when you're not looking. It's not a far stretch to think that Gotham might be haunted, with all of the things you've seen over the years. And it will take more than this to scare you away.

But as the days pass... you realize that perhaps, that's not its intent. That there's kindness and thoughtfulness in those movements you catch. And when you have a literal run-in with the ghost, it leaves you suddenly wondering - just who or what have you been staying with?

The Tower must be haunted.

It’s the only explanation you can think of.

You’ve been staying here for a little over a week now. A offer from Bruce that tips heavily in your favor - the use of the Tower for six weeks, while he is abroad.

Glorified house-sitting, needing someone to keep an eye on things while he was gone. Pick up the occasional package from Wayne Enterprises. Use up the perishables in the fully-stocked fridge, before they are wasted.

For you, it’s honestly a no-brainer. The perfect escape, the solace you thought was so needed to work on finishing up and editing your novel.

You jumped at the chance to help your friend, and privately, you’d always been curious to see just what lied in the penthouse. A chance to peek at the bookshelves and cabinets filled with curios. See how the hallways might twist and turn, to run your fingers over all the intricate wooden carvings.

But that has been before.

Before things started moving. Mail you had been so sure was left on the heavy wooden table in the open foyer, now on the desk. Those tall, arched doors that seemed to creak open on their own, just barely caught in the corner of your eye as you were passing.

Footsteps, in the night.

And then - turning even more peculiar, and more personal.

Your scattered research notes carefully stacked on the table next to you, when you woke from a lazy, afternoon nap. Some items in the kitchen never seeming to go empty, no matter how many times you’ve used them.

It had been a mystery. Unsettling, in the variety.

What you knew of ghosts involved spirits, unable to move on. Beings who lashed out, sought to frighten its inhabitants away. Or possess them.

At night, when you’re alone in the guestroom, you think you ought to be nervous. Afraid that you presence might have caused it displeasure, that it somehow, would take that anger out on you.

But, this is Gotham, after all. And with the hell the city has been through, you’ve lived through worse. The prospect of a haunting doesn’t seem as frightening compared to them. The creak of old floors is nothing compared to riddling clues and murdered politicians, thousands of people displaced from their homes as the city had gone near-underwater.

No, it’s something more like curiosity that flickers through you. After all, these movements were almost… helpful.

Intentional, at least.

And with that thought - something Bruce had said nudged at you, from the morning he handed over the keys.

But surely it had been a joke.

An internal amusement, at your expense.

“I’ll be six hours ahead, but text if you need me. You don’t have to worry about the Tower or cleaning, Alfred will take care of everything.”

“Alfred?” You had asked him, frowning. The name tickling something in the memory of your friendship, but you thought Bruce had lived alone.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bruce had coaxed, before changing the subject, “You won’t even see him.”

There had been no Alfred.

You were certain of that - by now you’d know if you were sharing the space with someone.

The Tower was expansive, but it was impossible that if they did exist, that they would always be in the exact opposite room as you. That your paths surely would have crossed by now.

You thought that perhaps, it was some form of Artificial Intelligence. Parts of the house hooked to some sort of electronic device he could monitor - call in any fixes or deliveries from home.

Alfred was probably an acronym for something clever.

Artificial Life For Reliable, Effective Delegation

It would make sense, with Bruce’s knack for gadgets. His fortune. The hours he kept - not a lot of room left to keep up with a dwelling as large as this. Far too busy and focused to worry about the daily minutia of bill-paying and grocery shopping.

Yes, surely - that was it.

And it had contented you, for a little while.

Until now. Because it didn’t explain this.

The last thing Bruce had told you to do was not to snoop. Tacked on at the end while he buttoned up his dark peacoat, baggage in hand - almost as if he had almost forgotten.

“Enjoy yourself.”

“But stay out of the west wing, alright?”

It had been on the tip of your tongue to ask just what you should be avoiding. Your interest piqued - all manner of thoughts of what he might be hiding springing into your consciousness - though you tried to forget it.

Bruce had been far too generous already, in offering you his home. You would never intentionally disobey his wishes.

And you hadn’t meant to. Really.

You had just gotten turned around in the mix of different rooms. The large split staircase had lead you upstairs, along a corridor of bedrooms - a narrow spiral back down popping you out near the kitchen. Around a corner, and you’d found yourself beneath an arched passageway that you haven’t been down before.

Intricate oil paintings lined the walls, ones you had ached to see. To examine the brushstrokes yourself, the splashes of gold and crimson against the dark walls. The shut doors flanked by suits of shining silver armor, and… was that a chain on the door, at the end?

If you were just there, if you didn’t open anything…. then it wouldn’t be snooping if you just peeked around. Right?

You had only taken a half-dozen steps down the hallway, before you suddenly collided with something solid. A soft noise ripping from you as you had stumbled, knocked off-kilter.

There had been a pinching at your elbow, a pointed pressure that steered you around. A feeling at the small of your back guiding you forward, as you suddenly found yourself facing the passageway you had just walked under.

It happened so quickly that you hadn’t been sure what happened. Startled enough that you abandoned your exploring, making for familiar territory instead.

But that night, the memory had kept you up. Replaying it over and over. Enough that you had texted Bruce, a quick message that had already made you feel foolish the second you had sent it.

Is your house haunted?

His answer coming some time later, your eyes heavy and red-rimmed with exhaustion.

Isn’t everyone’s?

Leaving you to wonder if Bruce hadn’t really been joking, after all.

It doesn’t happen again for a solid week. Long enough that you had started to doubt that it ever did. That perhaps, you had just imagined it.

Giving you time to turn the moment over again and again, in your mind. Picking at the loose thread thing together the pieces. Your writings sidetracked by searches for ghosts, of hauntings - you suppose it would not be unusual, in a place like Gotham. To have spirits attached to a city that feels so cursed at times.

But, you keep going back to that pressure. The feeling of a hand at your arm, though there had only been the walls and floors ahead of you.

It had been physical. Corporeal.

You notice more, in that time after.

More moments that you had spared a quick glance and thought of, but figured it had been in your head. The occasional dirty dish left in the sink is cleaned and tucked away the next morning. The blankets on the couch neatly folded, instead of strewn across the cushions.

At first, you had thought you had just forgotten. That perhaps your mind had just wandered, that you had been unintentionally tidying up as you mentally worked through your next task.

It wouldn’t be unusual - since you arrived, your sleep schedule had twisted. Mornings becoming afternoons. Night becoming day, with no one’s responsibilities to manage but your own.

Running on auto-pilot and simply not realizing.

If it is a ghost, it is a tidy one.

It's that thought that begins to cement your earlier suspicions. That their identity just might be the one that Bruce was hinting at, when he said you didn't have to worry about the Tower.

Some small comfort in knowing that he would never leave you in any danger. That you might have been on edge - with the creaking of doors at night - but that harm would not come to you.

That hypnosis’s tested as time passed - there were no threats, smeared with jagged letters in the fogged-up mirror after your shower. No swinging chandeliers, loosening on their own to crash down against your head.

That whatever it was, it kept its distance.

An intrigue slowly forms, that only grows with time. A urge to find out more - determined to see something, to make contact, again.

Even if you can't help being annoyed, as well.

Trust Bruce to let you think your mind was playing tricks on you, instead of telling the truth.

And with your now-careful surveillance - you finally catch when they slip up.

Your chin has been propped on your hand for some time now as you think - staring out of the tall, arched windows in one of the alcoves of the foyer. Head tilted to the side, so you can watch the small cars below - the tiny movements of people as they scurry into stores, to escape the cold wind that whips through the city streets.

There's a movement, then. Not outside, not below.

A flickering out of the corner of your eye you almost miss, near the coffee table you sit in front of. No more than a glint of silver in the light.

The faintest sound of pouring, which would have been drowned out by the ambient music trickling from your laptop, if you had not become so suddenly focused on the source.

It’s pouring you more coffee.

You're careful to keep still - your head fixed in place as you glance surreptitiously towards the movement. The silver coffeepot you've been lugging around tilted just enough to let a stream into your near-empty cup.

There can't be many ghosts that would choose to help, instead of scare or harm. That wiggle of curiosity surges into something more - a need to understand.

So, you try. Carefully, and unmoving.

"Are you Alfred?"

The coffee sloshes against the rim of your mug, dripping down the side. Startled by your words, so certain he had slipped past you, in your reverie. The carafe still hovers aloft, as you slowly turn your head.

Thinking that he might bolt. Hoping that he wouldn't.

Your eyes meet open air, swooping over the space - although you don't know where to look.

"Bruce mentioned you.” You try, settling on the area that you guess might be eye-level, on a man. "He said you'd be around, that I-… well, he must have thought he was being funny."

Teeth bite into the edge of your tongue - your head shaking at the half-truth he had given you. An omission, but still leaving room to argue later that he hadn’t been lying.

Your attention focuses back, again.

"But you're real, right? That was you, in the hallway?"

The coffee pot lowers to the table, then. A clunk against the heavy wood, just as you twist fully around. Your hand darting out to keep him there, curling around something solid. A wrist?

There's a tension as if he's about to move but then, at your touch, - he goes still. He's warm and solid beneath your palm, excitement sparking in your belly. Your other hand rising, index finger extended as you gesture for him to wait.

"Please don't go. Just let me-" Your hand slips from him as you bend, looking for the bag propped against the wooden legs of the velvet settee. A second of rooting around before you find what you're looking for - a capped pen, and your spiral-bound notebook.

A page is torn from the end, and then ripped in half. You scribble down two words before flipping them around - setting them on the top of the table.

Yes and No rest there, scrawled in thick purple ink. A simplistic system by all means, and you're not even sure if he's still there or if he slipped away while you searched.

"You're Alfred, right?" You ask again, quietly - hopefully.

A fluttering in your heart at the idea of communicating. Unable to help the way you lean towards the words, as if willing them to move.

And after a long moment… they do.

The slightest flutter, a nudge to the word marked Yes.

A grin splits your face, hands clasped together, "It was you in the hallway? You this whole time?"

His answer comes more quickly now, another nudge. A sort of relief washes over you with that confirmation. No ghost lurking in these halls - just an unexpected and unusual sort-of roommate.

You had thought the solitude would suit you, but as the days pass, the interaction now feels welcome. Too many silent hours in such a big penthouse, left to your own devices for hours on end.

"And is that your collection of tea in the kitchen, or do they belong to Bruce?" The tease comes without thought, though you belatedly realize that it's not a binary question. A heavy pause hangs in the air, before there's the slightest tug at your fingers.

You let the pen go, as he pulls it from you. One of the torn pieces flips over, the writing that appears much smaller and neater than yours.

Mine.

He plays along, to your amusement. Enough so that you're not quite ready to let him go.

"Will you have a cup with me, then?"

The paper flips back over, before it's nudged back your way.

Yes.

He hadn't been sure what to make of you.

A prickle of irritation when Bruce had informed him - yes, informed - of the arrangement. Visitors had never bothered him in the past, he was always grateful for any opportunity that meant Bruce felt comfortable bringing someone into his home. That he was spending time in the company of another, and not stuck lingering on what could never be changed.

But that was before.

With Bruce gone, what was he to do? Pretend he doesn't exist, skirting around a stranger in the Tower? Unable to rest, too worried that you would disturb the sanctuary he's spent so long protecting?

"You know you can't go out." Bruce's eyes had been downcast, peering beneath the hood of his car. Alfred's own finger's streaked with grease, with his constant and silent aide.

Down beneath the guts of the Tower, in the Terminus. Another place to keep secret in his absence. A few years ago he would have considered caving it in while Bruce was away, but they've both come a long way since the days of the Riddler. Managing to meet somewhere in the middle, even as difficult as the journey was.

"She's doing us a favor."

He could go out, if Bruce needed. Yes, a floating parcel could be problematic - a car driven with no owner - but he could get around that. It would be far from the more difficult things he's had to do over the course of his lifetime.

But before he knew it - you was there, and Bruce was gone.

Alfred had never intended to interact with you. He had been all but a ghost for some time now, silent and invisible. It would have been too easy to keep to the shadows.

To avoid you completely.

But that wasn’t quite how things had turned out.

You were fascinating, in your novelty. Beautiful, though he tries not to dwell on that particular observation. Keeping a schedule much like Bruce’s - all odd hours and self-directed patterns - though you couldn’t be more opposite.

Alfred would never dare step into your room, or encroach upon a private moment. He did not seek you out. But if he was already up, and you wandered into the kitchen to make pasta in the middle of the night, then sometimes… he stayed.

Watching you move about the space. Resisting the long-engrained urge to nudge you out of the way, to cook for you himself.

Forcing himself to linger instead, listening to you hum along to music only you could hear. Opening all the cabinets each time, until you found what you were looking for. A coffee mug, the deepest bowl you could find.

He’d rearrange them later. Bring them to the shelf closest to you, so you didn’t have to search so hard.

That he could do, at least.

And when you had grown curious - wandering about the Tower, down the very hallway Bruce had told you to avoid - he had been unable to avoid you any longer.

It had been all too easy to catch you off guard. Ignoring the spark that jolted through him when his hand had wrapped around your elbow, swiftly guiding you back the way you came. Away from the entrance to Wayne Terminus.

The expression of shock on your face still makes him smile, though he took no pleasure in frightening you.

He still manages to do so, though. Your hand flattening across your chest, a muffled shriek when his fingers stretch out to carefully tap your arm, announcing his presence.

You were open like that - smiles and frowns and everything in between, worn so plainly and unfettered across your face. Another source of intrigue.

So different than what he was used to. Interpreting the minute frowns and sighs and ticks of Bruce’s jaw, as if he was in the circus again - solving a codex.

He thought he was starting to be able to read you. Annoyance and boredom and that laser-focused look you got when you were working - hours passing without notice.

And now, he watches as curiosity blooms.

Directed at him, no less.

It was an unusual feeling. No one he was used to - there were few secrets between himself and Bruce, especially over the recent years. A promise made that he would do better, even though he's still wracked at night with worry.

He's not a spectacle. You don't push - though surely, you must wonder. It's not as if he doesn't himself, even though he's long been resigned to the feeling of merely existing, instead of living.

And when he finds that your routines slowly start to include him - an extra mug of tea made, the paper set out where he usually spends the morning - that wish that he had been left alone slowly begins to slip.

Alfred finds himself thinking that perhaps, perhaps, these weeks won't be so bad, after all.

Or at least - not quite so boring.

In the days that follow, a semblance of a routine is formed.

His presence is announced by a touch on your shoulder - a soft tap, as not to scare you, like he had before. The questions you have about the manor, about him, answered with more of those touches.

One tap for no. Two quick ones for yes.

Or written on pen and paper like your first meeting, when you have it.

You take to carrying a pad around in your backpocket. A pen tucked behind you ear, as you grow more brave - emboldened by the fact that he does answer. That they are short and succinct, though you think, not unwelcome.

For if he had wanted to stay out of your sight, it would have been all too easy. If he stayed - sharing the space with you, steam rising from his teacup as the newspaper turned - then surely, it would mean that he did not mind.

Notes passed back and forth as you work - the heavy velvet curtains in the foyer pulled back to let the daylight in. Giving you a view of the Gotham skyline, how untouched it feels from so high up. Rows and rows of buildings, each climbing taller.

Have you always worked for the Waynes?

Your question is folded up, flicked across the table. A old trick from school, the triangular shape soaring to where the papers are sorted in neat stacks, the click of a calculator as sums are added and marked down in a ledger.

His answer comes in neat, uniform letters. Carefully written on the sheet below your looping scrawl.

Not always. I met Thomas after my days in the military.

Another small detail you hoard like a magpie, this new piece weaving its way into the shiny pile of treasures you've collected. It explained a little - the tidiness of the kitchen, the way he moved through the morning like clockwork.

So unlike your own schedule, tied to the whims of your creativity.

But you've been with them since?

Yes.

Have you always been their Butler?

It seems like a strange course to take after his years of service and you think he must see the way you frown, as you think it over. His pen hesitates, before he answers.

In a way.

His answers are as cryptic as Bruce's could be. You wonder which one had begun that way - who had learned from the other. The thought of the connection made you smile.

In these moments, you find you work well together. He’s a busy man - the ambient sounds of his fountain pen scratching over papers filling your afternoons. The notes shared a welcome reprieve, when the hunch of your shoulders and twist of your hips start to ache.

Trading pieces of each other across the hours. Favorite books. Foods that remind you of home, ones that are sometimes ordered and shared over the course of the next day.

Memories, carefully inked down - feeling like confessions.

Your eyes are bleary when you finally glance up from your laptop, the mid-morning light somehow slipping towards evening before you could blink. The room now eerily silent, and you wonder if he is still here. Or if he moved on without notice, as sometimes did.

“Alfred?”

You voice is quiet in the large room. It’s not like you need him for anything but you still can’t help but wonder where he is - not minding the moments where you share the room together.

Still getting used to the fact that he exists, and yet is always unseen.

He appears before the sound has faded, his name still hanging in the air. A brush at your shoulder, embarrassment heating your cheeks at the thought of being caught, sounding so needy.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here,” You admit, with a scrunch of your nose, “I wasn’t sure, I-”

Words cut off by the plate set down next to you. Dinner - the meal still warm, fresh from the kitchen. You’d worked through lunch, too caught up to notice the time. The ache that had formed in your belly as the time passed now making itself known.

It has you wondering if he had been on his way back, or whether he had heard your call. He seemed to have a habit of that - appearing just when you’re looking for him. As if he had an innate sixth sense for knowing when he was wanted.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do this, you know.” You protest, and your refilled coffee cup rattles as it’s set down next.

The movement almost indignant.

A quick jotting on the back of a printed article he’d been perusing, the ink still glossy when it’s rotated your way - the last word underlined for emphasis.

You are our guest.

It’s hard to hold back the smile, as you read. You wonder when it became “our” and not just Bruce’s guest - if the exact syntax held anything in it’s arrangement.

Would it be strange that you think you want to find a deeper meaning in his words? That assurance that he wasn’t inconvenience by your presence? That the hours spent together were more pleasure than mere obligation?

You push the thought away from now - unable to examine your inner feelings with the source of them being so near. Dipping into the food he brought, instead. It’s good - a twist on a quick meal you’ve made a few times since you arrived, but much more delicious.

The thought of him watching you unawares, sends a little jolt crackling low in your stomach.

But you realize - it’s not one of discomfort.

Something else to contemplate, later.

“Did you already eat?” You ask, between mouthfuls.

The answer comes with the movement of his pen, nudging the plate closer.

Over time, you’ve found he can tips towards bossy. Insistent. Amusement at the thought of him trying to keep Bruce in check - hiding your smile as you shut down your laptop in favor of concentrating on your food. Savoring it, a certain luxury found in a hearty meal that was not made with your own hands.

Something you’re not used to, something you certainly and wholeheartedly appreciate.

When your belly is full, you lean back against the cushions. Thinking about how often you find yourself here, in this cluster of alcoves off the large, open foyer. Leaving you wondering about the rest of the Tower, as a sip of coffee warms your belly.

“Do you have a favorite room?” You ask him, with a tilt of your head.

There is no written answer. It comes instead with the pushing back of his chair - a hand that rests on top of yours, squeezing twice as he coaxes you out of your chair.

Alfred guides you down halls you've explored before, though you were never brave enough to peek into any of the closed rooms. The thought of getting a look inside one of them thrills you, a hand gently touching between your shoulder blades to steer you towards a set of the doors at the end of the hall.

The closer of the two opens with his touch, the room brighter than you're expecting as you slip inside.

A beautiful study, the walls and built-in bookshelves stained a deep brown that tips towards gray. An antique wooden desk takes up the middle of the room - a closed laptop resting on top, next to piles of neat manila folders.

The heavy drapes that embrace the arched window behind are cracked open to let in the setting sun - and as you step into the room, they open wider.

The view is stunning.

Looking out across Gotham River instead of the streets of Midtown, clogged with buildings and the never-ending traffic. Framing the lazy rush of the water that had caused so much destruction in the years before, softened by the glitter and glint of the sun as it dips below the horizon.

Unmarred by man-made buildings and dark shadows.

"It's beautiful," You breathe - only just now noticing how close you've moved to the window, skirting around that old wooden desk, "I can see why you love it."

You can feel him next to you, at your shoulder. That sort of heavy presence that you've started to sense - nearly well-enough that you've gotten good at hazarding a guess where he stands.

Lingering just a little longer in the silence, watching the crash of the waters against the floodwalls. But your insatiable curiosity eventually piques at you, unable to help the twist of your head as you take in the surroundings.

Seeing more from this side of the room. The cracked door from off to the side, leading to a darkened bedroom in shades of charcoal and silver.

A buttery-soft leather chair tucked into the desk, where a sterling silver teapot sits on a folded newspaper. You've seen it before, in the kitchen, on the hexagonal table in the foyer.

"Is this your room? Your study?" You ask, piecing things together. Wondering how it took you so long to realize how it feels like him. The sort of him you’ve come to picture - tidy and proper.

Thick-bound books tucked neatly into the shelves that reach towards the ceiling, sculptures breaking up the space. The wooden floor covered in a thick rug, soft against your toes. A warmth brought to the space, in spite of all the sharp stone and dark wood.

Yes.

And then your eyes are snagging on the desk. Where two photos lie overlapping, unseen from the other side. Ones of people, their edges creased and well-worn with touch - two men flanking a women, a child in her arms. For a moment you almost think one of them is Bruce, with his sharp jawline and dark hair.

As you step closer, you realize it's not. You recognize the Waynes from the newspapers, both beautiful and elegant - their son a perfect mix of both of them. Next to them, standing close - just as much as part of the family, is another.

You don't know the man on the right. He is striking - broad-shouldered and dressed just as well. Dark hair that is carefully combed back, just starting to lighten at the temples. Eyes bright and blue, his smile framed with a neatly trimmed beard.

But maybe... you do.

"Is this you?" Your fingers reach out, nearly touching. Hovering, instead.

The second picture lifts, pressed into your hand. Just two, now. A small smile at Bruce, clad in a cap and gown, a golden stamp at the corner edge that notes Yale University. The tight-lipped smile of a young man, exasperated at the prospect of a photo.

The man - your Alfred - is here, too. Older, his hair more gray than black now. Still smiling, though the expression has faded, as he stands next to Bruce.

"You look..." The words trail off. Something lodging in your chest, stealing your breath.

Handsome. Happy. Just like I imagined you.

None are appropriate to say. Eyes quickly soaking up the photos, trying to picture him now. Not that much older, certainly less than a decade. Distinguished, the salt-and-pepper tones only complimenting his already attractive features.

Your thumb traces the edge of the photo as you find your voice, "Proud."

Yes.

It hits you then - the mystery of him. You head suddenly jerking in his direction, the frame setting back down on the desk as you turn, "You haven't always been like this?"

There's a wave of your hand, gesturing at his situation.

You hadn't known what to think. You lived in fiction and you lived in Gotham - the world twisting and turning dark in front of your own eyes. Countless ideas had flitted through your mind, a topic you had come back to frequently.

Whether he was born like this, never seen by human eyes. Truly a ghost, haunting the halls - unable to leave. Or even just a figment of your imagination - a dream that you haven't woken up from yet.

None of them had made sense. Not with what he had told you of his past. But the ideas had started to dry up, leaving you with no answers. Until now.

His hand squeezes your arm. No.

It sends your heart tumbling, as a drawer in his desk opens. Digging down deep, an article tucked beneath layers of folders, as if untouched for years. Worn and paper thin from where it had been clipped from the Gotham Gazette, carefully held out to you.

And as your eyes flick over the headline, you remember. The sorcerer who had sold his soul to the devil, wreaking havoc throughout the city. People had disappeared, plucked from the streets. Tricked by their own eyes by his illusions, in his quest for dominance over the city.

Your parents had called you - begging you to stay inside, to stay safe, until it was over. A shiver racing up your spine at their worry, how it still lingers in your memory.

Alfred must have been caught. One of the many affected by the spells. Cursed.

"This was years ago," Your voice was hushed, "You've been this way for that long?"

Yes.

The thought makes you ache.

"Can you fix this? Is there a way?"

You think surely there must be. There had been others, brought out of months of sleep. Turned back into their human forms, from the animal they had become. It has you clinging to a spark of hope that had long been extinguished in these halls.

A pen from his desk lifts, an answer slowly inked in the margins of the article.

I cannot not tell you.

And then two words, written below it.

Ask Bruce.

You text Bruce that night.

In the glow of your laptop - the scene you're working on left hanging, open-ended as you're unable to resist any longer. Late enough now for you that for him, it's morning.

I met your butler.

Your phone is still glowing when he answers. Barely a minute passing before the bubbles appear, just two words popping up.

Did you?

He never makes it easy - a sigh slipping from your lungs as you lean back into the plush chair, a knee pressing into the edge of the desk.

I did.

A second, as you wonder if you should dive in. If you should just ask what you want to know - if Bruce would entertain the thoughts and questions swirling in your mind.

You decide you should. That he's busy, and blunt. No reason you can't cut to the chase.

He said you could tell me about the curse.

Interesting. So you didn't just meet him. How long has it been?

That has you pausing, your thumb tapping a quick response.

What do you mean?

Alfred would never just tell that to anyone.

Even someone like you.

You scoff.

Meaning??

A pause hangs. Minutes passing, before an answer appears.

Meaning someone I trust enough to leave in my home.

His answer mollifies you. A friend, you think. Something he would never say. On anyone else you'd comment on the sentiment, but you think bringing attention to it would only push him further away.

We've been talking for a little while. Written notes, stuff like that.

The touching is innocent, but you feel protective of it. Like the brush of his hand is private. That aspect remains unmentioned, something just for you.

I'm impressed.

Your eyes roll with impatience. Impressed that you'd find a way to talk to him? Or impressed that you'd even noticed?

Thanks, I guess. Today he told me about the curse. Said I could ask you. Can I?

You haven't told me what he's told you.

You take a second then, to recollect. Typing slowly and then erasing, until you get your thoughts down.

He showed me the newspaper. I know about what happened, and when I asked if it could be fixed he said he couldn't tell me. That I could ask you.

You can.

I am???

Fuck - he's infuriating. Your jaw grits, as you flop sideways - twisting on your back. Hands held above your face as you type out your answer with a little more force than necessary.

I'm asking right now. Could you please tell me?

From what we've gathered, his curse will be lifted when he gets what he truly wants. Which might be impossible, considering.

This is something. A tangible goal, something you can really work towards. Your heart kicks up a notch, as you murmur the words while typing.

Considering what? What does he want?

That depends. Why do you want to lift it?

That has you pausing. Why do you? Is it because it's what any decent person would do?

Perhaps if it was the first day, that would be your answer.

But over the course of the evening and the time that had passed, it's become more.

It's hard not to think about how lonely Alfred must be. Half a lifetime spent with just the two of them. Now - left utterly unseen. Not even a ghost, but someone trapped as time still moves on without him. Forgotten.

And yes - lately, selfishly, you want to see him. Deep down, you’re realizing you want him to see you, too. Though it’s more than just that.

You need to break it.

To help him, because Alfred deserves it.

You can't tell Bruce this. It feels too new, too tender. Something still half-formed, even to your own mind.

So you send your own half-truth in reply.

Because it's the right thing to do.

Bruce’s response comes quickly.

If that is your answer, then you should give up now.

It leaves you frowning, a pit forming in your stomach.

Bruce.

???

What do you mean?

No other answers come, though it doesn't stop your eye from wandering the rest of the night. That urge to check for a more substantial answer. Frustration bubbling in your stomach, acid in your throat. Hurt and confused by his words.

Leaving your mind swirling - an irritation in the way your mind has now split. Words no longer flowing from your fingertips - your manuscript left frozen in place, as you try to puzzle out his meaning. Reading and rereading his messages.

That so-very human urge to help turning into something a more.

A desire.

Your jaw grits as you decide that don't need Bruce's help. You can do this yourself.

For Alfred.

thanks for reading! 💖

#alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth x f!reader #alfred pennyworth fan fic

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bakugous-tits · 1 year

Text

Standing in the Sun

So! Since my old blog got hacked and deleted, I'm finally ready to come back! I'll just be posting a few of my faves for now, and this is number one to come back out! I love Mirio so much, and this was a labour of love for me to write but I'm so happy with it and I hope everyone enjoys it <3

Pairing: Mirio/Reader

Word Count: 14,031

Warnings: Soulmate AU, violence, awkwardness, smut but this one is fairly vanilla I believe? There is a creampie though!

Thank you and enjoy!

You were 16 when your mark showed up.

Everyone in school had laughed when it showed up, the child-like sun showing up on your wrist looking absolutely ridiculous. Most soul marks were a little more refined, looking like fancy tattoos more than anything.

Yours looked like an 8 year old’s interpretation of a sun, minus the cartoon sunglasses and poorly drawn smile.

It was so basic. One of your friends had an intricate rose across her ribcage, another had a detailed mountain range on his back-

And you had a simple sun.

What the fuck did that even mean?

In a world full of quirks it was always difficult to know whether your soul mark had something to do with your soulmate’s personality, hobbies, or their quirk; and with one as plain as yours, you figured that you’d never find your person. Were they someone with a light based quirk? Did they just like being outside?

Years later, you still didn’t know.

You stared down at your wrist, sighing as you leaned back on your sofa. The TV played on in the background, but you were unaware of what was on anymore, mostly using it as white noise at this point. The paperwork you’d been doing for your students was scattered around your coffee table in various piles, only half done. As a developing quirk advisor, you spent your days helping kids whose quirks had recently manifested to learn to control them, and spent your nights marking their progress through various reports for their parents and teachers. It was rewarding work, even if it took up almost all of your time in order to keep up with the number of kids under your care.

A glance over at the digital clock on your oven revealed that you’d been sat there for longer than you’d thought- it was starting to get late and you still hadn’t even thought about what to eat. Stretching your arms over your head, you groaned in satisfaction at the way your joints popped. Leaving your paperwork on the table, you ran a hand over your pomeranian’s head as he napped next to you on the sofa, ignoring his little grumble as you stood up. You smiled at his grumpiness as you padded over to your kitchen, only to groan when you opened the fridge.

Nothing. Nothing you could use to make a substantial meal anyway, and the way your stomach was growling at you said that a snack wasn’t going to cut it. Your eyes dragged over to Chibi when he raised his head to glare at you, as if he knew what you were thinking already. As you closed the fridge you smirked, tilting your head at him. “Hey buddy, you want to go for a walk?”

Chibi snorted, turning around in place on the sofa and flopping down, his back facing you.

--------------------------------------------------------------

After 20 minutes and a lot of unnecessary furry struggling, Chibi was reluctantly trotting along the pavement beside you as you headed to a nearby ramen shop that knew you by name. You smiled down at him fondly as you walked, knowing that even though he likely hated you right now he’d be back to snuggling you in bed later.

A small commotion further up the street stole your attention away from your companion, your head shooting up at the shrill scream that tore through the air. A woman was on the ground, having been pushed down by a large man that was running around the corner-

A man who was currently barrelling toward you.

Before you could even react, he’d crashed into you and sent you crumbling to the ground, Chibi’s leash flying out of your grip as you fell. You cried out as you hit the pavement, the breath knocked from your lungs momentarily as you registered the footsteps of more people running towards you. Scrambling to grab Chibi’s leash, your heart was in your throat as you watched him jump away from all the people sprinting past. He yelped as he ran out into the (thankfully empty) street, little legs pumping and taking him away from you.

You watched him go with frantic eyes, only looking away from him briefly to glance at the incoming group of people.

Heroes.

While part of you was relieved that the brute that knocked you down was going to be taken care of, your focus was quickly drawn back to the rapidly disappearing canine that was running still. Pushing yourself up quickly, you took to chasing him on your own, the other civilians in the area too distracted by the hero chase to really pay attention to your frantic calls of your dog’s name.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You still hadn’t found him.

You’d been searching for what felt like hours already, calling out his name between sobs. As your only companion, Chibi was probably an attachment that would be considered unhealthy at this point but he was your world. Losing him would be a huge blow, and it had your heart pounding in fear at what could have possibly happened to him.

“Excuse me, Miss? Is this little guy the one you’re looking for?”

Whipping around quickly, you gasped at the sight of Chibi panting heavily in someone's arms, not even looking up at the person straight away. You choked out his name, your arms shooting out to grab him as you sobbed out a yes to the stranger. Chibi happily snuggled into you as you held him close to your chest, licking at your cheeks before settling in your arms. You finally looked up to thank the stranger, relief flooding you as your eyes flicked up to meet-

Blue. His eyes were so blue.

And he was big . The man towered over you, the brightness of his outfit surprising you for a moment before you realised that he was a hero . And not just any hero either, this was Lemillion . His grin was still boyish despite the fact that he had to be in his mid twenties by now, not too far from your own age. Your mouth hung open, your eyes rapidly tracing over him as he chuckled at your response.

From what you remembered seeing back in your school days from the sports festivals, Lemillion had always been big, but now that he’d graduated and become a pro hero, the baby fat was completely gone. He was all hard planes of muscle, broad shoulders and massive arms, and god damn those thighs looked powerful. But as your eyes returned to his face, a heat coming to your cheeks at so blatantly checking him out, you realised that there was definitely a boyish charm to his look.

“Sorry it took me so long to find him! I saw the whole thing before but he’s fast ! And even when I caught up to him he was so grumpy at first! You’ve got a little spitfire there!” Lemillion was looking down at Chibi in your arms with almost the same fond expression you’d had before everything happened. You reached a hand up to swipe the tears from your cheeks, sniffling once before getting yourself together and smiling at him.

“Thank you for finding him for me, I didn’t think it’d really be a priority when there was something like that going on…” Lemillion blinked at you for a second before laughing, reaching out to stroke the top of Chibi’s head softly.

“There were plenty of heroes around to catch that guy, and he was nearly out of steam anyway! When I saw this guy run off I knew I had to do something to help, so I split off and hunted him down. He’s a smart cookie though! Knew to take the back streets and alleys, and when I found him he was huddled in a bush!” Lemillion’s hand moved down to scratch under Chibi’s chin, the canine’s eyes squinting in satisfaction. “Now that you’ve got him though… It’s pretty late, you should be getting home! After all that excitement, both you and the little guy probably need to rest.”

You opened your mouth to thank him one last time before you left, but halted when your stomach grumbled loudly. Your face flushed with heat once again as Lemillion’s eyed dropped to your stomach, his eyes widening in understanding after a moment.

“Oh! You haven’t eaten yet? Well, if it’s okay with you… d’you wanna grab something to eat with me? My patrol is over now and I’m starving!”

You blinked. Lemillion wanted to have dinner with you? You knew from the various people who posted about him online that he was a friendly hero, but this seemed a little over the top…

But the look on his face was open, genuine, like it was something he did all the time. You couldn’t help but nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Sure, but you have to let me treat you, okay? As a thank you for rescuing Chibi…” You raised the arm holding your dog, gesturing to him with your head and rolling your eyes playfully. Lemillion’s face tinted pink, his head shaking and a protest that you could already hear starting to form. “And I won’t take no for an answer, mister, so just accept it.”

Lemillion almost seemed bashful as he nodded, even though he was the one who boldly offered in the first place. As you led him back to your favourite ramen shop, you chatted amicably about mundane things. You didn’t pick up on it straight away, but by the end of the walk you had caught him staring at you a few times as you walked, eyes always tracing over your face. As you sat down at the table in the little shop, placing Chibi on the chair next to you, you gave him a curious look.

“Is something wrong?” Lemillion’s face blazed at your question as he sat down across from you, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. His eyes avoided you, instead focusing on the menu as he cleared his throat.

“Nothing! It’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

You ended up dismissing the thoughts and focusing on food yourself, and soon enough the two of you had your orders and were tucking into them heartily. The shop owner (who knew you very well from your years of coming here, and absolutely loved Chibi.) even provided your little man with some strips of meat, patting him softly on the head before toddling off to serve other customers. As you ate, you stole glances at Lemillion, catching him watching you a few times again and both of you quickly breaking eye contact and looking away.

You couldn’t shake a nagging feeling in the back of your head, a feeling you weren’t able to identify constantly swimming at the edges of your mind. It felt… warm. Like even though you two just met, you’d known each other longer than that, and that this was just another comfortable hangout among many others.

In reality, his costume was drawing curious eyes as people passed the ramen shop. You bristled slightly when a couple of teenage girls came up to your table requesting an autograph, unsure of why you had a pit in your stomach at his resulting smile. The girls were fawning over him and somehow, it put you off the rest of your food, making you put down your utensils and push it away from you slightly. You focused on stroking Chibi’s head, giving the dog your full attention as Mirio fielded their questions and signed some of their belongings. When he finally waved goodbye to them and turned back to you, your previously happy mood had dimmed and you were simply getting tired, the emotional nature of the evening finally catching up with you. Lemillions eyes widened as you yawned, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time before slapping his forehead dramatically.

“Oh man! I didn’t realise how late it was! We should get you home, right?” Nodding your head, you quickly pulled out some money to pay for both of your meals and picked Chibi up once again. You waved to the owner of the restaurant as you walked out, ignoring her pointedly raised brows when she looked between you and Lemillion, and stepped out into the cool night air. Crossing your arms over Chibi, you were glad you’d pulled a hoodie on before you left the house earlier, the night having cooled considerably already.

Lemillion took a deep breath and set his hands on his hips, smiling up at the night sky for a second before turning to face you.

“That was some good food! Thanks for showing me this place, I might have to come back sometime.” His head tilted to the side as he noticed you wrap your arms a little tighter around Chibi, a frown twisting his face slightly. “Are you cold? Here, let me just…”

Lemillion reached up, fiddling with where his cape meets his costume for a moment before the fabric came loose, reaching out to wrap it around your shoulders gently. Your eyes widened for a moment as you unwrapped one arm from around Chibi’s belly, clutching the cape closed and looking down to the floor sheepishly, heat rising in your cheeks again. Lemillion fiddled with the fabric until he was satisfied with its placement, smiling at you gently and gesturing for you to lead the way. He was going to walk you home?

The heat in your cheeks stayed firmly in place, your stomach flipping even as you internally berate yourself. He’s a hero, of course he’s going to be nice to you. Don’t look into it too much, it doesn’t mean anything to him . Forcing your feelings to chill the fuck out, you started walking toward your home and gave Lemillion a soft smile as he fell into step beside you. The walk wasn’t all that long, the two of you chit chatting as you went and Chibi resting comfortably in your arms and panting as he watched the world go by. Lemillion seemed to be showing actual interest in you and your work when he asked questions, throwing you for a loop and making your stomach flip flop dramatically even though you knew he was just doing his job as a hero.

As you walked, your mind started to wander. You couldn’t understand why you felt so… relaxed? That wasn’t quite the right word, but the feeling in the back of your mind refused to show itself any further to let you identify it. This was a hero, a man you’d never met before that night, but you were walking and talking like you’d known each other for years, laughing and poking fun at anything and everything. Lemillion’s sense of humour was… odd at times, but you found yourself enjoying it nonetheless. You almost felt… upset when you arrived back at your house, a soft frown on your face. Lemillion noticed, because of course he did, and raised a brow at you in question.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was softer than it had been all night, and it made something in your chest twist. You ignored the feeling, schooling your features and smiling up at him with a nod.

“Of course! Well, this is me! Thank you so much, Lemillion, count me as one of your ‘million people saved’, okay?” Your joking words had him smiling widely, hands going to his hips once again.

“Don’t mention it! Have a good night, okay?” With those parting words, Lemillion turned with a mock salute and headed off into the night. You smiled after him for a moment, before making your way into your house, letting Chibi down and removing his harness. The dog immediately ran over and settled himself into his spot on the sofa, huffing as he lay down to fall asleep.

You groaned when you realised that Lemillion had forgotten to take his cape from you. As you held the material in your hands, you sighed and buried your face into it for a second. It still smelled like him, something citrusy and light, but still distinctly masculine, and you cringed when it occurred to you that this was super creepy . You can’t just sniff a guy’s cape like that!. You folded the fabric carefully, placing it on the small table by the front door in case he realised and came back for it, before removing your hoodie to hang it up by the front door.

You failed to notice that rapidly fading glow of your soul mark on your wrist, too focused on staring fondly at your canine companion.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Lemillion never came back for his cape, but you saw a news story a few days later about a rescue he’d been part of and he had a new one, so you figured he wasn’t all that bothered.

You started using it as a throw on the sofa, snuggling up with Chibi under it when you were watching TV in the evenings, hoping he never came back for the damn thing. It was the perfect thickness to provide comfort, but thin enough not to overheat you, and it was so damn soft . You loved it.

The whole encounter became just another crazy story you could tell your friends and coworkers. Lemillion found your lost dog, had dinner with you and walked you home- who else could say that? In the weeks following the event, you told it countless times, until everyone already knew and it started to fade from your repertoire. Some of them were jealous, others told you you should have dragged him into your home and had your way with him. You always felt heat rise in your cheeks at that, shaking your head vehemently to deny the idea. He was hot, sure, but he was a hero , and you were just a simple everyday woman.

Once the novelty wore off, you threw yourself back into your work. One of your students had been struggling a lot with her quirk- it had manifested recently and was a mutation, so none of her family were really able to help her all that much with learning how to control it.

Your own quirk was almost perfectly suited to your job: Empathy. You were able to feel the emotions of others when you concentrated on them, and with time you learned how to influence their emotions too. This meant that when your students were scared, frustrated or angry, you were able to calm them down a little and help them see the situation clearly.

Growing up, you hadn’t really known how to apply your quirk most helpfully. You’d never really wanted to be a hero, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to help people, and it was only when you were volunteering to help a neighbor out with their young child that it occurred to you.

Man, I wish I had your quirk! Being able to calm this little one down during a tantrum would make my life ten times easier!

And with those words in mind, you realised what you wanted to do. Helping others by helping the next generation of heroes get to grips with their quirks, help them grow and flourish- it was perfect. Many years of studying and internships later, you were finally one of the best in the city, sought after by many schools for their problem children. It was exhausting, but you’d never trade it for anything now.

This particular little girl- Mika- had a quirk that allowed her to create storm clouds. Not just rain, but thunder and lightning too, and since she came from a family with all ground based quirks they were out of their element with her. The school had contacted you a while ago when she accidentally started making clouds inside the classroom when she got upset or didn’t understand something, and then became scared at the thunder. It would make her produce more clouds, only making the situation worse and ending with lots of the students in tears.

Mika was a quiet girl, a little on the shy side but with a heart of gold, and you wanted to help her so damn bad. She idolised heroes, and wished for a different quirk every day because she didn’t think she could become one with hers. As you were walking home from your most recent session with her, lost in your head, you didn’t even see someone exiting the shop next to you.

You crashed into what felt like a brick wall, your ass hitting the ground harshly as you dropped your work bag. Your eyes had closed in surprise, but shot open when you heard a familiar voice.

“Oh-! I’m so sorry- Hey, it’s you!” Lemillion stood in front of you yet again, although this time in civilian clothes. You gaped up at him and blinked, before scurrying to your feet, grabbing your bag and shaking your head.

“No! It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention…” Your eyes drifted to the takeout bag in his hand, before glancing up to see that-

You were outside the ramen shop. He’d come back after all. Noticing your wandering gaze, he looked up to follow your eyes and chuckled, one arm coming up to rub a hand over the back of his head sheepishly.

“I uh- I really liked our dinner the other week, so I’ve been coming back here a few times since then.” Lemillion’s cheeks flushed, and you raise a brow. He almost seemed embarrassed, but you didn’t understand why until he spoke up again, uncharacteristically quiet. “And I was- well, I was kind of hoping to run into you again to be honest…”

Your heart kicked into overdrive for a second, your stomach flipping again until you realised- his cape. He probably just wanted it back, not to actually see you , because why would you even register on his radar? You were just a person he’d saved once. One of his million.

“O-oh, of course… If you’d be willing to walk home with me I can give it back right away, sorry for taking it in the first place but I didn’t really know how to give it back…” Your eyes didn’t lift from your hands, readjusting your bag and making sure all of your files were in place and that nothing had fallen out. When you finally looked up, Lemillion had a confused look on his face, his head tilted slightly. You raised a brow, your brows furrowing slightly. “...Your cape? That’s why you were trying to find me, right?”

Lemillion blinked at you, before bursting into laughter. All you could do was stand there, confused, people passing by giving you odd looks as they hurried past the hysterical man. He managed to reign it in, swiping at one of his eyes as his breathing began to level out.

“Oh, man! I forgot I even left it with you! I’ve had so many spares made over the years so I don’t really notice when my team swaps ‘em out.” The smile he gave you was genuine- and the softness in his eyes as he gazed down at you made something in your chest flutter before you could stop it. But you do- you had to stop being like this, you’d only met the man once and he saved so many people in one day, there was no way you were ever going to register on his radar and you refused to get your hopes up.

Besides, you had a soulmate out there somewhere who was waiting for you, you couldn’t let yourself get hung up on him just because he was lovely, and had nice eyes and you wanted to bite his thighs and rub your hands all over his pecs and-

Stop it .

You took a deep breath, shaking your head slightly. If it wasn’t his cape, then why the hell was he looking for you? Opening your mouth to ask, Lemillion cut you off before you could even speak.

“I wanted to speak to you about the kids you work with and if maybe we could set up some kind of group meet and greet, or something. I know it always motivated me to work hard at figuring out my quirk when I saw heroes in action as a kid, so imagine what it might do to actually meet one!” And there it was. The rational explanation that helped cut your thoughts off, despite the fog of hurt that suddenly swirled in your chest. This was for the best, you didn’t need to obsess over a man who’s world was so far removed from your own. You cleared your throat, adjusting your bag over your arm as you smiled up at him.

“Seems like a good idea, yeah! If you’re not too busy, that is…”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t think I’d have time.” Lemillion rubbed at the back of his head, digging into his pocket for a moment. “So, I think it would probably be a good idea if we swapped numbers- to organise something, of course, just to keep in contact more easily.” There was something odd about his face as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, but you didn’t have a chance to dwell on it before he was handing you the object and prompting you to fill in your information. Once you’d shared your contacts, you asked him if he’d like to wait at the shop for you to go retrieve his cape. The hero laughed, waving you off.

“Like I said, I didn’t even realise it was gone! You may as well keep it.” You went to protest, only to be cut off by his phone ringing in his hand. As he answered the call, he gave you an apologetic look, muttering softly to the person on the other side before hanging up. “Shoot, they need me back at the agency- here, I won’t have time to eat it now, so you may as well have my order. At least it won’t go to waste then, right?”

Without waiting for a response, he placed the bag in your hand and darted off, your jaw dropping as you looked after him. With a heavy sigh, you trudged home and set the takeaway on the kitchen counter, Chibi circling at your feet in excitement. Opening the bags to inspect what he’d bought, something fluttered in your chest when you saw the contents.

Lemillion had ordered the exact things you’d both had on the night you’d met.

--------------------------------------------------------------

This was getting ridiculous.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this about a man you’ve only met in person twice .

Lemillion was just too nice, too lovely, though, and as you texted back and forth in the weeks following your second meeting you couldn't help the little flip flops that your stomach went through when you saw his name light up your phone screen. The man was always so happy in his texts, so understanding when you ended up delving into the more serious discussions about your students.

It was playing absolute havoc on your heart.

It was finally the day before Lemillion would be coming into your afterschool class to meet your students, the whole thing set up as a surprise for the youngsters. Putting down your phone after sending him a text to confirm that everything was still good to go, you sighed and turned your hand over to stare at your soulmate mark. This wasn’t fair. There was someone out there for you, and here you were getting all worked up over a man way out of your league. You shook your head, letting your arm drop down onto your bed, curling up further onto your side and closing your eyes.

“What are you doing…? Just- stop it. It’ll never work. He probably already has his soulmate, so there’s no point…” Murmuring to yourself softly, your eyes shot open when your phone buzzed next to your face on the pillow. Lemillion’s name filled your screen, your heart kicking up a gear as you swiped to open the message.

Lemillion: All good on my end! As long as there’s no emergencies tomorrow, I should be there around 3! I can’t wait to see you!

And there was your heart, pounding even heavier as the chat bubbles came up again, signalling him typing once more.

Lemillion: And the kids, obviously! Haha, that’s the main thing tomorrow, isn’t it!

Your heart calmed down a little, but heat remained in your cheeks from his words. He hadn’t corrected himself, he’d just added on the kids. Did that mean-?

Groaning, you turned your face into your pillow. You really needed to stop this, damn it. You peeked one eye out when your phone buzzed with an alert. Tapping on the notification, you were taken to a news page about a fight that had broken out earlier in the day. Your heart swelled when you caught sight of a certain blonde hero, a video showing him engaged in a hand to hand fight with a villain that was attempting to rob a bank. The villain couldn’t land a single hit, Lemillion’s permeation quirk frustrating him more and more as the hero kept punching him over and over. Eventually, the villain fell to the floor after a particularly solid hit to the face, knocked out and drooling on the floor.

The determined look in Lemillion’s eyes throughout the fight only made you admire him more, his drive to protect the civilians from harm and save as many people as possible… He truly was an inspiration. You tapped out of the video, going back to your messages with the hero. Sighing once again, you decided to turn in.

After sending him a thumbs up and wishing him goodnight, you plugged your phone in and turned over, closing your eyes once more and attempting to fall asleep so you wouldn’t be completely knocked out the next day. The last thoughts in your mind swirled around him, head filled with visions of his eyes, the sounds of his laugh.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hot. It was so hot, sweat dripping down your spine as you perched on the edge of the bed, your ass raised high and your face buried in the covers. Hands were clasped around your waist, big and reassuring as the man leaned forward to place kisses across your shoulders, a whine sticking in your throat as you arched into him. You felt his lips stretch into a smile at your movements before he straightened, one of his hands leaving your waist to move between your legs, the tip of his finger circling your clit and forcing a moan from your chest. Starting at a teasing pace, his finger gradually got faster, making your legs shake and hands grasp the sheets where they were stretched above your head.

Somehow you were already dripping wet, your walls aching to be filled, clenching around nothing. A deep chuckle met your ears as he removed his hand, the feeling of something much thicker taking its place as he rubbed the head of his cock against your clit. Trying to push back against him, you gasped when he softly swatted at your ass, laughing once again.

Your wishes were granted when you felt him start to push into you, your jaw dropping open at the stretch of him- long, thick and heavy inside you. He gave you a minute to adjust to him, before he started to move. His thighs hit against your ass with each pump of his hips, leaving you achingly empty when he drew back and pulling moans from you when he pushed back in.

“Always take me so well, baby, so good…”

--------------------------------------------------------------

You jolted awake, sweat covering your skin and the sheets kicked off around your legs. Chest heaving, you reached up to wipe the sweat from your brow, noting the mess of wetness between your thighs.

That voice… That was Lemillion…

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone and check the time. With only about 20 minutes before you had to get up to get ready for work anyway, you switched off your alarm and slunk into the shower to clean up. It felt so real, the warmth of his hands on your skin almost lingering on you even in the heat of the shower.

After staying under the hot spray for much longer than was strictly necessary, you managed to pull yourself together and sat down for a small breakfast, wondering how the fuck you were going to look Lemillion in the eyes today after that dream. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to calm down.

Damn it, I’m a professional! I can do this.

Breakfast cleared, you grabbed your bag and your files, patting Chibi on the head softly before leaving for the day, the dog looking up at you with a huff to see you off.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s the surprise, huh? We wanna know!”

“Why’d we gotta wait ‘till after school? Tell us!”

“ Please? ”

The kids were practically frothing at the mouth when you told them you had a surprise waiting for them during their last official lesson of the day, many of them getting frustrated when you refused to tell them what was happening during your session after official school hours ended. While most of the kids in this class had a good handle on their quirks, there were more in here that struggled than any other class so for the time being you had a group session with them one day a week. The kids with more difficulty had individual sessions with you on other days, like Mika.

Your eyes drifted over to her where she sat quietly in the corner of the class, fiddling with a keychain on her backpack. As the other kids began packing up their things, you wandered over to where she was sitting and crouched down to her height, smirking when you realised what she was messing with.

A Lemillion keychain.

“Do you like Lemillion, Mika?” The little girl jumped at your voice, but smiled when she realised you were asking her about her accessory. The smile spread as she looked down at it and nodded, her fingers tracing the raised metal that framed a cartoon version of the hero. You pulled the sleeves of your cardigan further over your wrists as you raised a brow at her.

“He’s my favourite! He’s strong, and nice, and he saves so many people!” Resting your hand on the top of her head softly, you gave her a grin. “I wanna be a hero like him! I wanna save lotsa people just like Lemillion!”

“I just know you can do it, Mika! Work hard, and you can be just like him!” You straightened and headed back towards the door, leaning against the frame as you waited for the kids to be ready to leave. A buzzing in your pocket had you pulling out your phone.

Lemillion: I’m in the gym, ready to go! Can’t wait!

Placing your phone back into your pocket, you clapped your hands as the kids lined up in front of you, getting their attention. They quieted down quickly, eager to find out what their surprise was. You led them easily through the school grounds until you got to the gym, pausing outside the door and clearing your throat as you turned to your group.

“Okay guys, I need you to listen to me closely! Your surprise is in here, and I know you’re all gonna be excited, but please remember your manners, okay?” Murmurs erupted through the group, brows furrowing in confusion until you opened the door and ushered them in. Collective gasps filled the room as the group finally saw their prize: Lemillion, in the flesh, standing in the middle of the gym. Your eyes strayed to Mika, taking in the shining of her eyes and the way her jaw dropped before she looked back at you. She grinned, a look mirrored on your own face, before her eyes returned to her hero.

The next hour or so was mostly Lemillion fielding questions, signing things and hyping the kids up, many of them leaving with their parents afterwards with smiles filling their faces, as well as new determination. You had to hand it to him- he’d been right about this encouraging the kids, but there was one more thing you wanted to squeeze out of the experience.

“Mika?” the girl in question looked up at you, still clutching her backpack with careful hands. Lemillion had signed it for her, and you had a feeling that it was now her prized possession. “Can you come here for a moment?”

Having already cleared an extra fifteen minutes with her parents, you knew this would be just what the girl needed to help with her quirk. As she approached, you looked over to Lemillion once again, meeting his eyes and tilting your head down towards her. A look of understanding filled his face as he walked towards you, his smile returning as he approached Mika and yourself. Mika looked sheepish, especially now that everyone else had left, but Lemillion gave her a soft smile as he crouched down.

“Hiya Mika! I hear you’ve been having a little trouble with your quirk?” The girl’s smile fell, her eyes drifting down to the floor as she nodded her head. “Well, would you believe me if I told you that I had a really hard time with my quirk when I was your age?”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, shaking her head slowly. The smile never left his face as he began to explain his quirk to her in a little more detail, telling her how dangerous it had been for him at first. Mika’s eyes shined at the information, her fists clenching slightly in front of her chest.

“It was hard work, because even though my pops has the same quirk, he never learned how to use it like I do! I had to figure it out all on my own, sorta like how you’re figuring out your quirk too! And a lot of the time I was scared of my quirk, so me and you are practically the same!”

Mika froze, her eyes widening. You held your breath, hoping beyond all hope that this was what she needed to get her out of the slump she’d been drifting into. Lemillion tilted his head with a broad smile, and Mika’s eyes filled with tears as she smiled back at him. Her posture straightened as she swiped at her eyes, that same determined glint in them that you’d seen on the other students. She gave him an intent nod, sniffling slightly.

“I’ll work hard, Lemillion! Just like you!” Mika’s parents entered just as she made her bold claim, Lemillion laughing and ruffling her hair as he stood up. They came over, thanking the hero profusely and chatting for a moment before ushering a highly excited Mika from the gym. You heaved a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind them, resting your hands on your hips as you swung your head around to look at Lemillion.

“Thank you for that, I was really struggling to get through to her but I think you did it!” A smile on your face, you rubbed at one of your arms with your other hand, a little bashful. “I think she’ll be okay thanks to you. Another citizen saved, Lemillion.”

Lemillion grinned, giving you a thumbs up and nodding his head. As you helped him pack up, you kept feeling his eyes on you, always averting when you turned to make eye contact. When you finished, he cleared his throat and approached you, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“Thanks for letting me do this! It was super fun, and I think it helped the kids a lot.” You nodded to him, giving him a smile in return. As you exited the gym with your things, Lemillion holding the door for you, you looked up to see the sky darkening with clouds rather quickly. He came up beside you, letting the door swing shut behind him and glancing up himself. “Oh shoot, looks like it’s gonna rain pretty hard… Did you walk here?”

You nodded your head, searching through your bag for your umbrella and raising it with a flourish once you dragged it from the depths. A frown seemed to be cemented on Lemilion’s face, making you raise a brow at him. “I’ll be fine, it’s only about fifteen minutes from here if you know the shortcuts like I do!” He shook his head once, placing his fists on his hips as he sighed and looked at the floor, only raising his head again when you made a questioning noise.

“Only one thing for it. I’ll have to walk you home again to make sure you get there safely.” His words made your jaw drop, a scoff escaping before you could stop it. A grin snuck onto his face once again, that same pinkness returning to his cheeks. “It’s my duty as a hero, and it’s starting to get late! Don’t say no- I’ll do it either way so you may as well accept it.”

With a sigh, you decided that maybe walking home with him again wasn’t so bad. The fluttering in your chest was impossible to ignore, and it gave you more time with the hero so- who were you to complain, really?

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, you were sure he’d regret his actions.

He was dripping wet, the rain having come down hard and fast shortly into your walk and the wind picking up to the point where your umbrella was useless. You weren’t faring much better yourself, trying to shelter your bag as best you could with all your files inside it. The duffel bag he had with him was a little more resistant to water, but even that would only go so far and you could see the bag changing colour as the water started to seep into it. When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sped up a little, jerking your head toward the door when you finally got there and trudging into the hallway with a groan, Lemillion following you in for a brief respite from the rain.

Looking up at him with his hair flopping into his eyes limply, water dripping off it, you couldn’t help but admire him. He still had a sparkle in his eyes even as he shivered slightly, trying to wring out his cape a little in the entryway to not let it drip all over your floor. Chibi came barrelling over, sniffing at the newcomer with intent as he realised someone had come home. Lemillion smiled broadly as he bent down, stroking the top of the pom’s head and tickling under his chin.

“Hey little guy! Good to see you again!” You dropped your bag to the floor, looking at the hero with a scrutinising eye. He turned to you, tilting his head at your study of him and looking down at his outfit with furrowed brows. “What? Is something wrong?” “Are you done for the day or do you have to rush off?”

He blinked at you. You blinked back at him.

When he finally shook his head no, you nodded yours and started removing your shoes.

“You can shower and wait here for the rain to stop if you want, don’t want a hero like you catching a cold, now do we?” You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, though your heart was thundering in your chest. Would he take this the wrong way? You just didn’t want to be the reason he got sick, and it really was throwing it down outside. He seemed to hesitate, making heat rise to your face as you finally wriggled a boot off. “You don’t have to, but I just thought I’d offer.”

When you looked up at him, his face had softened, making your heart thud painfully for a second at the look in his eyes. He sighed, reaching up to rub at the back of his head again.

(You definitely didn’t admire the way his arm flexed. Nope. No sir.)

( You did. )

“Y’know, I think that’d be gre-” His phone rang in the side pocket of his duffel bag, making him wince as he checked the ID. Tamaki . He raised a finger to you, an apologetic look on his face as he spoke quietly into the phone. You tried not to listen in, frowning as you headed further into your apartment and scratched at Chibi’s head softly when he followed you.

Tamaki. That was the pro hero Sun Eater, Lemillion’s close friend- or were they more than friends? They’d always been very close from what the tabloids reported, even close enough for a few to claim that they were together romantically, but it was never confirmed. What if they were soulmates? It would make sense, they often spent days off together, often worked together extremely well on missions, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch…

“Sorry ‘bout that! I- uh- I have to go meet someone, he really needs me right now and-” “It’s fine! You go do whatever you gotta do, no harm, no foul! Just try and get out of the rain fast, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.” Your words came out fairly neutral, you hoped, the smile on your face only slightly forced. Lemillion frowned, another apology spilling from his lips as he left your house quickly.

You looked down at Chibi with a sigh, the dog tilting his head at you and wagging his tail slowly.

“I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

Chibi simply huffed, heading over to his food bowl and placing a paw on it, looking at you imploringly. You shook your head fondly, going to feed the little gremlin before he got too grumpy with you.

--------------------------------------------------------------

How you ended up here was beyond your comprehension, really.

Your talks with Lemillion never ceased after the meet and greet. The hero always found time to text you, or call if he needed his hands free while he was cooking or something, forming a rather… odd friendship? There was no one else you spoke to as often, but you also still hardly knew the man. Your little crush, however, didn’t care in the slightest and continued to grow with each day. Trying to hide it was getting easier with time, though, the way you two spoke becoming more and more comfortable, and you didn’t understand why he was really bothering with you in the first place. When you asked him, he had simply chuckled and said a very cryptic I just have to! I’m not too sure why, but I always follow my instincts!

Whatever that meant.

The colder months had creeped in, the leaves changing colour rapidly and the weather turning almost before your eyes. Lemillion- no, Togata , as he had started insisting you called him- was telling you about an upcoming hero gala while you cooked dinner. You had him on speaker phone as you cooked, the man walking home from his patrol as he chatted away. Not properly listening as you cooked, you only caught the end of what he was saying.

“-So you should come too! It’d be fun, and I can introduce you to the others!”

You choked, lowering the heat on your stove as you scrambled over to your phone on the opposite countertop.

“I’m sorry- what?! You want me to-?”

“Yeah! I think it’d be great, don’t you?” Swallowing thickly, your tongue felt too big for your mouth and you sputtered slightly. “Nejire has been asking about you, and Tamaki wants to meet you too! Plus we can hang out properly for a while, please come with me?”

Your face flushed, your heart kicking up a gear as you thought about it. He wanted to go with you? You’d be out of your element around a bunch of heroes but- you couldn’t deny that you wanted to spend more time with him…

“Sure…?” Togata’s answering cheer had you smiling softly at your phone, shaking your head slowly in fondness as you returned to cooking your dinner.

Which led you to the situation of incomprension.

Weeks later, you’d procured a beautiful long sleeved dress, just thick enough to stave off the cool temperature without a jacket so you could be comfortable. You’d made your way to the venue in a car Togata ordered for you, texting him on the way and smiling when he said he’d meet you at the entrance. As the car pulled up, you saw him standing at the edge of the curb and your breath caught.

The suit he was wearing was perfectly tailored, sharp lines and fabric clenched around his thick arms and thighs. His face lit up as the car stopped, his hand already outstretched to get the door for you. When you stepped out, his jaw dropped as he took you in.

“W-Wow! You look amazing!” Heat flooded your system at his words, forcing you to look down and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Togata…” He chuckled as he closed the door, gesturing toward the venue with a grin. You made your way inside with him, looking around nervously at the expensive decor of the hotel the event was being held at. There were heroes everywhere; Creati, Mirko, Chargebolt and- holy shit was that Deku ?

What the hell were you doing here? You were nothing in comparison to all of these people, saviours of humanity and fucking heroes and-

And then Togata grasped your wrist softly, and it felt like the world stood still. All you could feel was the warmth of his hand, the tension leaching from your body almost instantly. The noise in the room became a dull echo in the background, all of your senses focused on that single point of contact.

Heart pounding for an entirely different reason now, you looked up at Togata with a curious face. He smiled down at you, tugging your wrist gently and inclining his head outward one of the quieter corners of the room. As you followed him, you frowned down at his hand, prompting him to drop it.

(You missed the warmth of his hand almost instantly, but you’d never tell anyone.)

“Sorry, Tamaki and Nejire are this way. Tamaki isn’t exactly fond of the big crowds at these kinda things, so you can usually find him in the corners.” Togata had to speak up a little for you to hear him over the din, but as the crowd thinned and you approached the edge of the room, the noise levelled out to be much quieter. Just ahead, leaning against a wall, you recognized Togata’s friends and swallowed thickly. Nejire, as you more commonly knew the hero- looked absolutely stunning in her seafoam green dress, her shoulders bared elegantly. Her hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders, wobbling slightly with every pat on the back that she gave the other person standing against the wall.

Sun Eater looked like he’d rather be anywhere else- at least, from what you could tell from where he was seemingly trying to become one with the wall by attaching his face to it. Nejire patting his back seemed to be doing absolutely nothing to make him feel better, unintelligible words falling from his mouth in a near constant mumble. As you and Togata approached, Nejire spotted you and immediately lit up, smacking Sun Eater’s back a little harder.

“Ooooh! Amajiki! They’re here! Look!” Nejire smiled brilliantly as you both came to a stop beside her, finally ceasing her assault of the shy hero. Mirio went to introduce you, but had hardly gotten your name out before she was cutting him off. “I know who she is! Oh wow! We’ve heard so much about you, it’s so nice to finally have a face for the name! I love your hair, and that dress is to die for! Hey, Togata has told us about your quirk and stuff, what’s it like working with the kids? Was it hard to get started in your line of work? How did you know you wanted to do it? Have you been-” “Okay! Nejire, let her breathe!” Togata ended the questioning, placing his hand on your shoulder gently. “This isn’t twenty questions, we’re just here to have a good time. How are you holding up, Tamaki?”

The man in question groaned, turning his face to the side slightly but still not turning around. Togata left your side to go to his friend, placing a gentle hand on his back and leaning in to continue his conversation, leaving you and Nejire alone. She leaned toward you, a grin on her face that you nervously returned.

“Y’know, Mirio talks about you all the time . Like- he’ll be walkin’ around and see something and just- talk about how much you’d like it! It’s adorable!” You flushed at her words, looking down at the floor and grasping one of your wrists with the opposite hand.

He talked about you? It almost sounded like he- but there was no way! You really hadn’t done anything to earn Togata’s attention. He was more likely just excited about having a new friend.

That must be it.

Togata coaxed Nejire away before you could respond, enlisting her help to get Sun Eater away from the wall. It took a few minutes, the two of them making you giggle at some of the ways they tried to get him to move, but eventually they got the reluctant man away and you all headed into the main hall of the venue.

And it was stunning.

Tall ceilings, gold ornaments, thick red velvet curtains. You were miles out of your element.

The event was being held as a fundraiser- an auction where all of the items would be sold and the money would go to charity, and it seemed they were ready to start selling items off. You nudged Togata and pointed towards the refreshments table, letting him know to come find you there after the auction part of the evening. Grabbing a drink and settling into a chair at one of the tables, you watched as pro heroes bid their money on seemingly useless objects for people who made as much money as they did- spa hampers, signed merch from other heroes, tickets to a local play; all things donated by local businesses and the other heroes themselves.

As the heroes were preoccupied, you took a moment to admire the room, and the outfits of some of the heroes and their dates. Even the waiting staff were dressed to the nines in well pressed suits and-

Wait.

… Why are there so many waiters gathered by the doors?

Pausing mid sip of your drink, you tilted your head and frowned at the three sets of double doors, watching as the waiters all seemed to have some kind of meeting. You placed your drink down on the table, rising slowly when the waiters spread out across the doors. A person in front of each one leaned their hands against the closed doors, and your heart rate picked up as one of them sealed the door by turning it to stone. Another door became locked shut when roots and vines cracked through the wood, knotting around each other until it was nearly a solid wall, and the last one was encased in what looked like a thick purple paste. Some of the partygoers nearby cried out, prompting the heroes to turn and notice what was going on. A few of the waiters grabbed nearby guests, grasping their hands behind their backs and holding up syringes right over their necks.

Unfortunately, you were standing near one of them. You gasped as your arms were grabbed, twisting behind your back uncomfortably and a needle held just above where your pulse was pounding.

“Hello, heroes! Hope you don’t mind if we crash the party!” The heroes swung their heads back to the stage just in time to see the MC for the auction fall to the floor, blood dripping from a wound on his temple. A large man stood behind him, a cane in his hand with a carved raven on the handle- red liquid dripping from the beak. Draped in a dark cape and a tailored suit, thick sunglasses on his face, the man was grinning widely at the group of heroes before him. “Please, don’t move a muscle! If you do, I’ll be forced to do something- well, just awful. That means you, Deku! And you, Dynamight!” The two heroes in question had moved to the front of the crowd, but halted when the man reached up and took hold of his glasses. The villain slid them down his nose slowly, looking down at the two top heroes with a sick grin. Dynamight growled, moving his arms to his sides, his palms lighting up as he prepared to attack the villain-

Until it suddenly stopped. With a green glow surrounding his body, Dynamight’s body began to turn an odd grayish hue. Deku turned to his friend with a gasp, panic filling his features as the number two hero was turned to stone.

“Like I said- I don’t want to have to petrify so many of Japan’s top heroes in one go, after all! Not to mention- all those lovely hostages around the room would suffer so much if you disobey me…” The villain’s words seemed to echo with how quiet the hall got, your chest beginning to ache in fear as your eyes searched the crowd. Togata’s eyes met yours, his gaze focused entirely on you. Through your tears you could see how tense he was, his teeth bared in a grimace as he realised he couldn’t get to you. His head swung to look over at the villain, your eyes widening at the absolute rage that seemed to vibrate through him. You’d never seen him like this before, how could this be the same man who called you in tears a few weeks ago when he watched a video online about some rescue dogs?

At the front of the crowd, Deku had turned back to the villain. His face was grim, a deep frown directed straight at the stage and his eyes hardened.

“What have you done to Kacchan?!” “Now, now, don’t worry! I’ll be more than happy to undo it once we get what we came for! And I hate to be so boring as to ask for it, but- we want your money. You came to donate to charity, correct? Well, I have a very worthy charity case for you to donate to! All you have to-”

A cry sounded from within the crowd, one of the lower ranked heroes launching himself at one of the waiters nearby with a hostage- if you remembered correctly, it was his date. All three of them hit the ground, his date scrabbling back to him as the waiter moved away quickly.

To your dismay, the waiter that was next along jammed the needle into the neck of his hostage.

The guest began to scream immediately, the woman’s skin starting to sizzle and steam as she was thrown away from the waiter, her hands scratching at any bare patch of skin and ripping it off of her, as if it was barely even attached. She looked to be in absolute agony, bubbles of skin growing on her face before they popped.

It was horrifying.

Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks, your body shaking with fear. That same needle was hovering above your neck, above the necks of about 20 people in the room, and it looked like even saving one would result in the death of another.

“I did ask you all to stay perfectly still, you know. I wanted to avoid this…” The villain shook his head in mocking disapproval, as if the woman’s screams weren’t still echoing. “Now, as I was saying… We have a lovely bank account just waiting to be filled with all your precious money, and it’s for a very good cause. Me and all my friends here could really use it!”

The screams had finally died down. The woman was lying on the floor, her skin mostly melted off, still steaming in places. Your eyes found Togata’s once more, his own looking frantic as it really set in that he couldn’t do anything, he couldn’t save you or anyone right now .

You could see the same look on the faces of all the other heroes present.

Deku looked like he was going to combust, Nejire-Chan and Sun Eater looked at each other with furrowed brows, as if they were trying to figure out their next step.

Togata couldn’t take his eyes off you.

There was a level of desperation there that you didn’t quite understand. Even though the other heroes looked upset at not being able to help their dates and friends, Togata seemed especially upset when his eyes were latched onto your figure.

You hated it.

That look in his eyes, it was so unlike his usual smiles. Something inside of you bristled at the lack of brightness in his expression. Blinking a few times to try and clear the tears from your eyes, you made sure he was looking at you before giving him a small smile. Reassurance.

It’s okay.

Togata’s eyes looked watery, although you couldn’t really tell from this distance, before he suddenly broke eye contact. He grit his teeth, his eyes screwing shut for a moment as he swung his head to glare at the villain.

“All this?! All this just for money ?! You just killed someone !” Togata’s voice cut through the silence, the heroes around him gasping at his outburst. He was shaking with anger, his eyes blazing as the villain simply laughed.

“Ah-! Not quite! I didn’t kill anybody! After all, I did warn you all that I’d have to do something awful if you didn’t listen!” The villain sounded so full of glee, so proud of what he’d done here.”Besides, it’s only cause of this stupid hero system that people like me struggle to get work and need to resort to this shit! If we could all use our quirks freely then things would be different!”

… wait.

The villain was still ranting, but you couldn’t even hear him anymore. Use your quirk freely… What if you could influence someone? Your eyes roved over the villain, unsure about how this would go… you didn’t have a licence to do hero work, but you did have something of a concession for using your quirk due to working with the kids. No one would even know, there’s no visual representation with your quirk on you , it only shows around the person you’re influencing. So the only people in the room that would know it was you would be Togata, Nejire and Sun Eater… You didn’t know if you were covered with your partial-licence, but surely you had to try.

The other risk was whether or not taking the leader out would impact the waiters. You were hopeful that if you took him out of the equation, in the chaos they’d just drop their hostages, but there was always the risk that they’d just inject their hostages anyway. You had to get a message to someone, somehow…

Togata looked at you again. Locking eyes with him, you schooled your face into the most neutral expression you could, and activated your quirk. A subtle blue glow, almost like a very tiny glitter shower, began around Togata’s ears.

Calm. Collected. Relax.

His face melted from it’s disgruntled rage, his mind clearing for a moment as you stopped your quirk, your eyes shooting to the other hostages and back to him before looking at the villain again. When you looked back at Togata, he didn’t seem to understand for a moment before it seemed to click.

A nod. A smile.

Togata turned and kept his voice to a low murmur, saying something to the other heroes as subtly as he could while the villain kept yelling about the inadequacy of hero society. You really hoped that he got your idea right.

Please.

When Togata finally looked back at you and nodded, you realised that many of the heroes seemed to be bracing themselves, each one angling their body slowly towards one of the hostages. Relief flooded through you as you turned your eyes toward the villain at the front, focusing on him directly.

Activating your quirk, you were suddenly filled with a chaotic swirl of emotions. What this man felt wasn’t just rage, there was sadness, fear, pain. You didn’t want to do this to him, but there was no other choice. You grunted softly as the blue glow, much stronger this time as you were concentrating so hard, began to sparkle around his ears.

Relax. Calm. Peace.

He stopped talking. The man’s face, previously screwed up in anger, relaxed swiftly as he stared off into space for a moment and you held onto his emotions as tightly as you could.

A moment was all the heroes needed.

All at once, the heroes jumped, each one launching towards a hostage and knocking the waiters over in the same breath, a coordinated attack. At the same moment, Deku jumped at the main villain, tackling and subduing the man as you finally let your control go, a splitting headache taking up residence in your mind immediately.

Togata came for you, because of course he did.

His fist flew past your head and rammed into the waiter’s, the man behind you dropping the needle and falling to the floor, the hand gripped around your wrists ripping your dress as he fell. You stumbled forward, Togata’s arms pulling you into his chest immediately and securing you there. Sobbing immediately, you buried your face into him and clutched at his shirt, eyes screwed closed.

“I knew my soulmate would be smart, but you’re a genius, you know that?”

... What?

You opened your eyes, ready to question him when your eyes caught on your soul mark, bared thanks to your ripped sleeve on your dress.

Glowing.

Eyes widening, you looked up at Togata, seeing the soft smile on his face even as around you the other heroes were busy dealing with the waiters (who had immediately panicked at their leader being taken down with no fighting) and working on getting the doors open again. He chuckled at your confusion, one of his hands leaving your waist to reach up and cup your cheek carefully.

“You-? But-? What?” Your brain seemed to grind to a halt, nothing making sense even as you absolutely relished in the warmth of his hand on your cheek and his arm around you. Togata burst out laughing this time, leaning back enough to put a bit of space between you both. He reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it slightly until his lower abdominals were on display. You would have blushed if your eyes hadn’t locked onto the glowing mark on his hip.

A little seed, with a sprout coming out of it.

You frowned, looking back up at him and shaking your head slowly until he started speaking again.

“I had a feeling it was you when we first met. It felt like coming home even though we’d never even seen each other before… But I didn’t understand until you explained your job. You’re nurturing the next generation of heroes, your own little seeds, helping them grow. That’s when I really knew it.” Togata looked down at his hip again, smiling fondly at the mark and then back at you. “You’re amazing. I’m so glad it’s you.”

Your eyes filled with tears again at his words, at the soft grin he gave you as he lowered his shirt again, at the pure joy that you could feel radiating off him now that you were out of danger. It was too much, you couldn’t handle it, all the emotions of the day catching up to you as you sobbed. Togata’s eyes immediately widened in panic, his arms shooting around you again and pulling you close.

Comfort. Safety. Love.

Your quirk was working on it’s own, opening you up to Togata, letting you feel his emotions and pouring your own back into him, his arms stiffening as they registered and he realised they weren’t his own feelings this time, that you felt the same .

How could you not?

He leaned you back again, hands cupping your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks as he beamed down at you, uncaring that your face was soaked, uncaring that your makeup was running-

He leaned in, and he kissed you.

Just like before, the world stopped.

There was nothing other than you, and him, and the fact that you’d been denying it for months but he was your soulmate . You finally felt like you could breathe after being underwater for so long, like you fit perfectly against him, in his arms. It was intoxicating.

The kiss, while it started loving and almost chaste, a relief that you’d made it through all this, quickly became more desperate as you realised that this man was yours .

And then Nejire cleared her throat.

Togata and you broke apart, faces flushed with heat as you stared at her wide eyed.

“I’m so psyched that you guys are together and all, but we kinda need to finish up here you two! C’mon, you can suck each other’s faces later !” Nejire walked towards the (now open-when did that happen?) doors, making you realise that in the few minutes you two had carved out together in the chaos, everything had calmed down. Police were escorting the villain and his waiter-lackeys from the building, the heroes were giving their statements to other officers, and ambulances were arriving to help the hostages. Togata helped you toward them, noting how weak you’d become after using your quirk under the circumstances.

What followed was a few annoying hours of being checked over by the EMT’s, police taking statements, and a lot of suggestive looks between you and Togata. He knew what he was doing, the bastard, taking off his suit jacket and placing it around your shoulders, his smell surrounding you in both comfort and frustration. Rolling up his sleeves so you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing.

Now that you weren’t yelling at yourself for being attracted to him, it seemed like the flood gates had opened. You were openly ogling him even as they announced that you were free to go, your eyes laser focused on him. As soon as you were standing you made your way straight over, Togata’s eyes catching your movement before you reached him and prompting a smile.

It wasn’t one of his usual smiles.

It seemed that, like you, Togata was feeling the effects of that kiss, an edge of hunger in his eyes and on the curve of his lips that had you aching in your core. As you came to a stop in front of him, he reached for you automatically, pulling you into his side and resting his hand on your hip to keep you pressed against him. He bid the heroes he was talking to goodbye quickly after that, pulling his phone out to get a car called and looking down at you when you were waiting at the curb for it to pull up.

“Can I take you home? Wanna make sure you get in safe.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

--------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as your door was closed, he was on you.

Togata pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you and planting his lips on yours, your own arms wrapping around his neck as you pressed yourself against him. The adrenaline from nearly dying had worn off, but in its wake a new excitement was building in your veins. The thought that this man was all yours was still swirling through your mind, and now that you were pressed up against all that muscle you were aching between your thighs.

Togata pressed you against the wall in the hallway, parting from you and panting heavily, his forehead pressed to yours. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks, your nose nudging against his gently as you tried to reconnect your lips, feeling him smirk at your insistence.

“Togata…” A soft utterance of his name had him growling, pressing his lips to yours once again. His hands smoothed down from their place at your waist, moving over your ass and squeezing gently. When he pulled away, he pulled your hips against him, letting you feel his hardness against your stomach.

“Mirio- Call me Mirio, okay?” His voice had dropped, a roughness to it that wasn’t usually present that made a thrill run down your spine. You nodded, leaning back against the wall and looking up at him with hooded eyes. Mirio took your hand, lifting your wrist- the one with your soul mark on it- to his lips without letting his eyes leave yours, and brushed his lips across the mark itself. Your lashes fluttered at the soft contact, the air around you charging with each movement, your chest beginning to heave.

“Mirio, please…” With his eyes sparkling, Mirio lowered his head slowly, moving past your lips to your jawline, his hand coming up to tilt your head further and allow himself better access to your neck. You gasped as his lips and tongue assaulted your pulse point, your hips nudging toward him in pleasure, the feeling making you throb in need. “M-Mirio, bedroom, n-now…”

The distance seemed to evaporate with how quickly Mirio dragged you through the house, following your directions between heated kisses. As soon as you were in the bedroom, Mirio flung his jacket from your shoulders with a solid yank.

“I really love you in my clothes, but I also really want you out of ‘em right now…” He murmured against your lips, reaching for the buttons on his shirt and swiftly undoing them, shrugging it off as soon as he could. Your hands had a mind of their own as they roamed his chest, dragging over his nipples and relishing in the little twitch he gave.

Mirio’s hands moved to your hips once again, starting to drag your dress up by bunching the fabric at your waist bit by bit. Despite the heated atmosphere, and how much the both of you wanted to move this along, Mirio was taking his time where he could, teasing you when he finally pulled it up and over your head. Once your hands were free, they immediately moved to his belt, working it open as he dipped his head down to reconnect your lips. Your dress fell to the floor, his hands fastening to your waist once more as he moved you backwards towards your bed. Mirio helped you lay back, before straightening and undoing his pants properly, letting them drop to the floor and leaving him in some rather tight boxer briefs.

The outline of his cock was daunting, but it made your mouth water with how thick it looked, the idea of it stretching you forcing wetness to pool between your legs. Mirio made to step forward and out of his pants-

Only to get his feet tangled and fall over, barely catching himself on the edge of the bed.

You burst into giggles, covering your mouth to stifle them when Mirio shot you a look of exasperation. He struggled to unhook his feet from the fabric, groaning in frustration before ultimately deciding to use his quirk, letting the fabric pass through his feet as he crawled onto the bed.

You reached for him as soon as he was done stepping out of his pants, grasping his shoulder and neck to bring his lips back to yours. With only your panties and his briefs in the way, you could feel him pressed against you so much clearer, the pressure on your clit forcing a whine from deep in your chest.

Mirio smirked into your kiss, rolling his hips forward as he settled between your legs, eliciting a gasp that he took full advantage of, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

Having his hands roving over your body, feeling each and every curve, squeezing at your flesh- you felt like you were on fire, Mirio’s desire for you evident in the way his hips rolled desperately against you, the cling of your panties to your soaked core betraying just how much you wanted him in return.

“Been thinking of you like this for so long…” Mirio muttered between kisses, moving his kisses back to your neck, down to your collarbone and nibbling at the flesh there. Your back arched, Mirio taking advantage of the opportunity once again to reach behind you and start undoing your bra.

After a moment of struggle that elicits giggles form the both of you, he finally gets the damn thing undone and drags it off. He stops for a moment, leaning back and admiring the view of you utterly debauched below him, eyes hooded, lips kiss swollen, chest heaving. Reaching to cup your cheek for a moment, he rubs your cheekbone with his thumb and chews at his lip for a moment.

“I don’t- I’m not super experienced , if you know what I mean…” His face flushed at his admission, eyes focused on tracing your jawline instead of making eye contact. You giggled at him, reaching up to cover his hand with your own as you turned to nuzzle into it.

“I’m hardly the queen of experience either, you know. But this already feels so much better than anything else…” Mirio smiled at your words, finally looking into your eyes again. He leaned down, nuzzling at your breast for a moment before sucking your nipple into his mouth, dragging his teeth slowly over the peak and watching as your face contorted in pleasure.

The air between you became charged with tension once again, Mirio’s hand moving between your thighs and softly stroking at your slit over your panties. He groaned as he felt how soaked you were already, his teeth biting down a little harder on your nipple. Your legs flexed around his hips in response, a soft moan escaping that he relished in.

He suddenly growled, leaning back and letting your nipple go with a soft pop as he focused on practically ripping your panties from your body. Considering he said he wasn’t overly experienced, the way he flipped the switch and had your knees by your ears, his mouth covering your cunt and eating you with fervor- you wouldn’t have thought he was even the same man.

You cried out at his assault, his tongue flicking over your clit between it’s journeys into your walls, his hands pressed behind your knees to keep you folded over. Hands flying to the sides of your head, you screwed the sheets up in your fists with how hard you gripped them. Your mouth hung open, pants and moans constantly falling from your lips as your eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed already. The pressure was already building so rapidly, the knot in your belly tightening by the second. You panted his name, Mirio’s efforts increasing even more when he heard your voice so strained.

When you finally crested the wave of pleasure, your head thrown back into the pillow, Mirio took every drop you gave him, your cunt crying out for something to fill it, aching with need. When he finally let you drop back to the bed, your legs flopping either side of his hips, you pushed up and latched your mouth to his instantly.

You’d never wanted someone so bad in your whole life, something in you snapping as you pressed up into him. Desperation laced your movements and you reached down, pushing his briefs down enough to free his cock and wrapping your hand around it, swallowing up his answering hiss and pulling him back on top of you, maneuvering your hips to line him up instantly.

Mirio’s hands flew to your hips, stilling their movements and ripping his lips from yours with a growl.

“You definitely-” “Mirio, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll take care of it myself. I have toys in that drawer.” He froze at your words, tilting his head as he processed your words. He shook his head, reaching down to replace your hand with his as he rubbed his cock up and down your slit, bumping against your clit to tease you.

“We’re revisiting that later, but right now…” Mirio pushed his hips forward, his jaw going slack as your walls engulfed him in slick heat. You yourself weren’t fairing much better, eyes rolling at how thick he was, at the little burn of the stretch even though you’d already come once, your wetness helping him slide home until he was filling you to the hilt.

Mirio waited for your go ahead, waiting until you gripped his shoulders tight and gasped out a please …

And then he started moving, and you were soaring.

The drag of his cock in your walls was heaven, his big hands gripping your hips and lifting you into each thrust and slamming his cock into that spongy spot inside you pulling sinful moans from your lips. Mirio watched your face as you writhed in pleasure, his heart hammering in his chest at finally being with his soulmate, your own heart pounding in time with his.

“So beautiful like this… you really were made for me, huh?” He punctuated his words with an especially harsh thrust that had your vision whiting out for a moment as you nodded, your nails digging into his shoulders making him hiss and screw his own eyes shut. The view above you was glorious, his broad chest and shoulders with their rolling muscles with every movement. His face, torn between watching you and enjoying his own pleasure, teeth bared with his efforts to make you feel good. You couldn’t take it, your climax approaching too rapidly, your legs tightening around his hips as you tried to gasp out a warning, to tell him you were close-

“ Fuck - I can feel you, baby, come for me, please …”

Your head threw back once again, throat bared to him as you were overcome by pleasure, your soul mark shining brightly for a moment as you clenched down onto him. He grunted through it, his own mark glowing as his hips stuttered, burying himself deep inside you as he filled your walls with white, until both of you bonelessly fell to the bed. Your marks glowed for a moment longer, before their lights slowly ebbed away, settling down once more.

Mirio panted above you, holding his weight up on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush you while you caught your breath too.

When he finally pulled out, you groaned at the feeling of emptiness as he pulled you into his arms, flopping onto his back beside you on the bed. You’d both need to clean up soon, go to bed properly, but as you stared at your soul mark resting against his chest, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to move just yet.

Looking up at Mirio, you smiled when you caught him already watching you, a cheeky grin on his face. Thinking back, you had no idea how you hadn’t figured it out sooner.

Mirio was of the purest, childlike glee. The sunshine of anyone’s life, whoever knew him could attest to that. Your mark made more sense than any other mark you’d seen in your life.

“... So... toys?”

...You were going to hit him, sunshine man or not.

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