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#of these tw o
inavagrant-a · 1 year
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@idolatri | 💛 for a moodboard about our muses’ relationship | prompt.
↳ Tetsuya & Nahida.
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oh-katsuki · 5 months
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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops
cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,
wc: 3.1k
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nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.
frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.
he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.
you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.
you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.
"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."
"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."
"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."
nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.
"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."
"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.
"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."
"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."
nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.
you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.
you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.
you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.
one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.
"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.
nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.
"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."
"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."
you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"
"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."
nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.
you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.
nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."
"sorry," you say.
"don't be," he responds.
this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.
"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.
"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.
"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."
you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.
you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.
"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.
nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.
you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.
"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."
nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.
"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.
"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.
"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."
you shake your head, "you."
nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.
you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.
something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.
nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.
"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."
nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.
"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.
you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.
you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.
nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.
your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.
for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.
you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.
instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.
you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.
"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.
nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.
nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.
you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.
"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"
you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."
nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.
"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.
something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.
nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.
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a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!
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andypantsx3 · 3 months
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: For @lorelune's spring fever collab! This fic is a little bit different than my usual fare—part love letter to my hometown, part omegaverse smut, part style experiment—but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I also want to call out that Reader in this fic is Touya’s contemporary, and is therefore older than Shouto. Everyone is in their 20s and I’ve purposefully left the age difference ambiguous in case the canon gap squicks you out, but please know there is a difference of at least ~3 years implied. 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 24k, 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑠: complete
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𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣
↳ read on ao3
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fic extras:
what does touya think of shouto & reader getting together?
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diejager · 6 months
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hiiiii! can i request a miguel x reader? miguel is a big shady business man (kinda like king pen) who owns a strip club and reader is one of the strippers who everyone knows not to mess with since she’s miguel’s girl. a guy starts sexually harassing reader and miguel kicks his ass and puts him in his place. if you’re cormfortable, i would like smut ❤️
Property Cw: smut, possessive behaviour, DUB-CON, worshipping, sex workers, strip club, pimp, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, marking, stripper/sex worker!reader, tell me if I missed any.
Despite the place being a strip club - one on the higher end of the city - there was one rule that it followed to a T without exception: do not touch the workers without consent, yet this pig decided to forgo this fundamental rule put in place in ever strip club and touched you when you’ve told him many times to back off. His sweaty and grabby hands moving across your skin left you shuddering, his hands leaving you feeling disgusted by his touch.
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, moving between the bodies to get away from the man.
“C’mon babe!” He moved to try to grab you, insistent that he only wanted to share a drink and talk, “Please! One lap dance!”
Men like him just couldn’t take no, it frustrated you. That might’ve been what he said : one lap dance, but you knew his type, he would demand for more after you were done and become forceful if you didn’t comply. You tried to distance yourself from him, your heels thumping quietly on the velvet flooring, hurried and annoyed while the man followed you, his fingers grazing the naked skin of your shoulder. You wore a blue teddy, the darkest shade of navy strapped to your skin, the bust acting as a corset to push out your breasts and the thin fabric cupping the swell of your ass. It was almost sheer, the few ribbons and decorative texture hiding anything too intimate from the public and garter straps holding your sheer stockings up your thighs. Your attire seemed to be the source of his obsession and of his liking, even following you to the boss’s VIP corner.
“No!” You swung your arm back, hurrying to the bodyguards standing between the VIP and public area of the club, “I told you-”
In your frantic hiss, you walked into a wall, groaning softly. The wall was more so a wall of sculpted muscle than a plaster and drywall, a firm hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his protective embrace. A wide and firm palm gripped your stomach, kneading the soft flesh under the lingerie.
“When she says no, it means no, cabrón,” Miguel growled, his broad stature overshadowing the man that followed you. When you turned your head, Miguel had his wrist in hand, the man winced and whimpered at the tight hold, strength threatening to break his wrist, “You got that?”
He nodded, running away with his tail tucked between his legs, out of the club and as far as he could from the beast that held you gently. Turning you around, he led you up the stairs connected to his upstairs suite, a personal balcony that overlooked the proudest part of his kingdom.
“He’s done.”
He wouldn’t be coming back, once Miguel gave the order, the person wouldn't ever be allowed back into any of his establishments. He had rules that he wanted to be respected, towards his employees and especially you, his sweet girl that he picked up from the previous pimp in the area he now controlled with an iron fist towards the cruel and abusive.
His mezzanine was spacious, a soft, faux leather couch, a black able and a private bar area in a corner for him to indulge in his drunken pleasures with or without guests. You’ve always liked this place, a distance from the music and crowd on the ground floor, it was a solace in the busy club. He sat you on the table, the cool surface making you flinch while he faced you, the leather dipping with his weight. He tenderly cradled your cheeks, thumb running along the curve of your painted lips, his eyes roving down your coverage, smooth skin uncovered to his hungry eyes and calling for him.
“Oh, mi dulce Musa,” he cooed, his lips kissing a line down your neck, the dip of your collar, the smell of your breasts and the warmth of your cunt, wetness pooling over the fabric of the teddy he gifted you. “I’m happy you came to me first.”
He hooked a thigh over his shoulder, spreading you on your back as he slipped a finger under your lace, pulling it aside to look at your glistening folds. Sliding two fingers between your labia and collecting your slick on his calloused pads, spreading them open to admire your cunt, clenching around air —hungry for his thick digits. He bowed his head, pressing a kiss on your throbbing clit, pulsing and needy, circling the entrance of your drooling hole, feeling it clench. Wrapping his lips around your nub, he sucked on it as he plunged in, two fingers stretching your tight warmth, guiding his hand in and out.
You cried out, bucking your hips against his rugged face, grinding upwards with a slow mewl. You felt stretched wide, a finger of his counted two of yours, long and sturdy, pumping into you with a goal in mind, tapping your gummy, sweet spot and pulling you apart from the seams. You moaned, shuddering under him, body wracked with tremors when he pumped a third finger, untangling you from the seams of your salacious and confident image you built from your time as a sex worker. You were a wanton mess, back arching and legs quaking, painted nails curled around Miguel’s hair, pleasure coiled tightly in your core.
His pace was steady, hand driving in deeply, coaxing more slick out of you, curling against your warmth. You clung to him desperately, head thrown back and teary eyed as you balanced on the precipice of your climax, an agonising thrum of pleasure beating between your thighs. Sensing your end, he rolled your clit with the tip of his tongue, giving you a bit of solace before he sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh. You wailed, jerking around as your pussy closed around his fingers, your heat squirting over his hand. It was a blinding fire, eyes rolling back into a white cloud, sightless after your earth-shattering orgasm.
He whispered sweet compliments, laving over the bloodied mark with the flat of his tongue, slowly pumping in and out of you until you rode off your release, legs still shaking and hands still curled around his head. He kissed his bite, red eyes drinking in your debauched figure with his mark, a sign of ownership over you, the red indentation of his teeth bleeding you.
“Mía. Mi dulce Musa,” he whispered, gazing at you lovingly, predatory eyes glowing bright red under his lashes and wild curls.
Taglist: @yas-v @elliewilliamsbae @rinieloliver
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Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.
.⋆。Office Crushes。⋆.
Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader
Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader
Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously
Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff
WC: 3.1k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.
You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.
A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.
Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.
You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.
‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.
Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 
You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.
——————
The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 
Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.
“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.
Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.
Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.
Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”
The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 
“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.
“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.
You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”
“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.
Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”
You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”
He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”
You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 
You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.
As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.
“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”
“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.
“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”
The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.
——————
“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 
“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.
“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.
Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.
“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.
“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.
“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”
You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.
“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.
“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 
“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.
Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”
“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 
“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.
The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.
He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?
Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.
“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.
The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?
“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.
“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.
“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.
“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 
He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 
His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.
The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.
“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.
“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 
Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.
“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”
“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”
“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 
Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.
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macfrog · 6 months
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sweet child o' mine | masterlist
neighbor!joel x f!reader | ao3 | playlist
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joel miller has lived next door - since forever. you've been a pain in his ass - since forever. one drunken night changes everything - forever.
please check out individual chapter content warnings before reading!!! this series features adult content and themes which may be triggering.
series warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), unplanned pregnancy, discussion of a car accident & dead parents, emotional cheating & some minor/one major instance of physical cheating, smut, angst, fluff.
main series
pt. i
pt. ii
pt. iii
pt. iv
duckie's baby shower
bonus
➵ replaying the wedding night
➵ the whole world
features
➵ sweet child o' mine moodboard by @sawymredfox
➵ joel and duckie by @knopes-waffles
➵ duckie vs. tomato by @dundienominee
➵ sweet child o' mine moodboard by @rarachelchel
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werewoofzz · 5 months
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havent drawn this guy since like 5th grade hes come back once again
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doe-prince · 7 months
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Lately my dreams have been bloody
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saintprivateer · 9 months
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VW character designs for @shastafirecracker’s Trillium and Ivy, a modern au Trigun fic about a landscaping Vash and funeral director Nicholas! Something something the hardships of being dealt a bad hand in life and scraping all the love and peace you can get… but you’re in so much gay love so it’s all a little more bearable. c :
some close-ups under the cut!
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sinningvin · 7 months
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So uhhhhhhh ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Fnaf movie goog William aftin hot
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bunnywritesjunk · 11 months
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My King
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Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?
Chapter summary: You get a call from your mother regarding your match. You are nervous to meet them, but they turn out to be a pleasant surprise.
Pairing: König x Fem Reader
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)
Word count: 4.1k (damn thats a lot for me)
Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.
A/n: Yo Yo Yo whatup. New fic dropping. This one is black/poc coded but anyone can read. I haven't seen any poc coded cod fics just yet (if you know any send them my way). If you do not like Omegaverse fics please do not read. Also I tried making a cute little mood board, i think it sucks but I tried my best. Konig art credit. (I couldn't find the art credit for the girl). König and reader are neurospicy. I got inspired to do an Apex Alpha König from @ghostlythunderbird go give them some love please. Also this is kinda what I imagine him looking like.
Next Chapter
Chapter One:
His back ached as he climbed the few steps to his door. The passage back to his home was uncomfortable. All König wanted to do with collapse on his bed. The duplex he resided in was decent, the little old woman who rented it to him was very sweet. König had a hard time getting anyone to rent to him. His status as an Apex alpha was concerning for most people. They believed him to be violent and inconsiderate. His landlord is an omega that lives with her alpha mate. König managed to convince her. She thought he was sweet and kind. He opened the foyer door that lead to both apartments. He glanced at the mailbox, wondering if he should wait until morning. Begrudgingly, he took out the small mailbox key and fiddled the metal box open. He grabbed the plethora of mail and closed the box gently. The box was filled up quite a bit as he had not been home in a couple of weeks. 
Heading up the stairs he filed through the mail. Most were junk coupons and magazines, some were credit card sign-up letters. One envelope caught his eye. It had no company name just a large white manila envelope addressed to him. He opened his door and stepped inside placing the mail and his belongings on his couch. He ripped open the envelope and took out a thin book. It had the circular logo of the AOMO, the Alpha Omega Match organization. 
König started at the cover his heartbeat sped up the longer he thought about it. He signed up for the program after a particularly hard mission he had in KorTac. He left and joined the 141 and decided he wanted an omega. A lot of the men in the 141 had partners they could come home to. König wanted that. Most people were too afraid to be in a committed relationship with him. König often settled for one-night stands with betas but it left him feeling empty. He opened the packet to the first page.
'Congratulations!' The first word read. His heart beat harder the more he read. 
'We have found you a match!' König's heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. 
'In the plastic wrap, we've provided a fresh scent sample from your potential match. If you like the scent of your match, please send us a scent sample from you as soon as possible.' 
König gripped the packet and leaned over the table, putting his weight on the table. He took a deep breath, he felt a mix of fear and excitement. When he signed up he was not hopeful for a match. He assumed his situation was too complicated for them. He flipped through the packet before reading the rest searching for the scent sample. A plastic bag fell out onto the table. It was sealed and had a verification sticker assuring its authenticity. König picked up the bag carefully. It had a square of white fabric inside it. He took his hood off before opening the bag gingerly. The scent instantly made his knees weak. This Omega had a warm and spicy scent. Coconut and sugary vanilla with hints of sandalwood. König stuffed his nose into the bag inhaling the deep rich smell of this Omega. 
König sealed the scent sample wanting to savor it. He opened the packet back up to the first page. It said once he mailed his scent sample and was approved by his match, they would arrange a meeting with him and his match. There was more information about this Omega and their family along with the reasoning for them picking them. They informed him that this omega was a twenty-six-year-old female. Her father is also an Apex Alpha, he is retired American military. They did not provide a picture of any matches because they wanted the connection to be based on instinct rather than looks. Her mother is an Omega that works as a teacher. There is not much else about the Omega but, König is hopeful. He reads the instructions to send his scent sample. They provided a kit with a form envelope, a small square of fabric, and a plastic bag, almost identical to the one he received from his match. 
'Wash your hands, and rinse any dirt off of your scent glands.'
'Then remove the fabric from the plastic.'
'Rub the fabric on your clean scent glands for 20-25 minutes.'
'Seal the fabric thoroughly in the bag provided .'
He shed his vest and protective gear, the last thing he wanted was for her to smell dust and gunpowder on him. König tried to quell his excitement as he followed the directions. Rushing to his bathroom and then back to his dining room. The fabric square was slightly smaller than his palm. He cupped the crook of his neck, sandwiching the fabric between his hand and his neck. He rubbed gently filling it with his scent. He read the rest of the packet as he rubbed. The rest was mostly semantics about the company and its policies. He combed it a few more times trying to memorize every piece of information about his Omega. 
König smiled gently, he shouldn't think of her as his yet. She smelled so good, too good for him. He smelled the cloth every once in a while to ensure his scent was potent enough. When he was done he placed it in the bag and sealed it. He filled out the form and packed the pre-paid envelope neatly. He grabbed his keys and left his apartment to go to the mail drop-off on the corner of the block. He needed to send it today, he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't. He walked back to his apartment having long forgotten about his back pain. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You looked at the list on your phone pushing your shopping cart. Buying the week's groceries had fallen to you this time as your mother was dealing with state testing for her students and your dad was on a hunting trip. You maneuvered the isles expertly collecting the items on your list. As well as some extra sweet snacks you like to indulge in much to our mother's chagrin. You were about to put a pack of Oreos in the cart when your mom called.
“Hello?” You answered but all you can hear was excited screeching. You held the phone away from your ear until she quieted down. 
“He accepted you!!!” She screamed. 
“What? Mom, you're too loud.” 
“The match company! The match they picked liked your scent.” She giggled. 
You were slightly stunned. Your parents signed you up for the AOMO when you were eighteen. You weren't that on board with it but you let them. You know they only want the best for you. You kept sending scent samples every year but they never got back to you about anything. Now, six years later they show up with a match for you. 
“I just got the call, they're sending a scent sample for you right now it's gonna get here in a few days.” 
“Wow...” That was all you managed to say. 
“Now I know this wasn't your ideal way to meet someone, but just please be open-minded sweetheart.” 
You sighed. “I will. I'm finishing up at the grocery and I'll head home.”
“Alright, I'm gonna be home soon too, bye sweetie.” 
You hung up the phone and stood in the aisle. You placed the pack of Oreos in the cart and moved to get the rest of the items before checking out. 
When you arrived home your mother was there waiting. She squealed and hugged you before helping you take the grocery bags inside. 
“I am so excited for you! I have heard so many good things about the AOMO. I bet whoever they picked is gonna be great.”
“Let's hope.” You say. 
The next few days went by quickly. You dove into writing your next few chapters to take your mind off of the match. The sequel to your best-selling fantasy novel was underway. Your days consisted of writing, planning, engaging with fans, and talking to your editor. You typed out the outline for the next few chapters when you heard a knock. 
“Come in.” You said. 
Your mother walked in holding a large envelope. “Guess what came today?” She said excitedly. 
 Your heart thumped with anxiety. She placed the envelope on your desk.
“I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you like them.” She sauntered out of the room happily. 
You picked up the envelope and opened it pulling out a packet of information. You flipped to the first page. 
‘Congratulations!’ It read. 
‘The match we have chosen for you wants to meet you. Once you contact us with your acceptance of their scent, we will arrange for them to meet you and your family with the chaperone of one AOMO agents to facilitate. The two of you will go on a date and get to know each other before deciding whether to move forward. If you do not accept the scent, we will put you back in our database to be matched with someone else.’ 
In the middle of the pages, there was a plastic bag with a white cloth in it. You picked it up and sighed. You doubted you would like the scent. Most alphas were off-putting to you, either way too strong of a scent of they smelled like dishwater. You opened the bag casually and took a whiff. Your inner Omega preened at the musk that erupted from the bag. 
“Oh my…” You inhaled deeply. 
This Alpha…smelled good? He smelled like chocolate and dark roast espresso. There were some hints of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. You caught yourself before you got lost in his scent. You sealed the bag up and took a breath. Maybe, this would be a good experience for you. You scanned through the rest of the information looking over what little they provide about this Alpha. He is a male Alpha, non-American but they did not specify what country. The only other thing they said about him was that his demeanor was shy and that he is military. The instructions said to call the number if you wanted to meet him. You reached for your phone a little too eagerly and dialed the number. A woman’s voice answered.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Alpha Omega Match organization how may I help you?”
“Hi, um I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail, and I want to meet him.” You said awkwardly.
“What’s your name and date of birth?” You told her, nervously. 
“Please hold while I transfer you.” 
The light piano hold music came on, you fidgeted with your sleeve. 
“This is Kara, how may I help you?”
“Oh hi, I got an Alpha’s scent in the mail and I would like to meet him.”
“Alright, let me get your file from reception she’s sending it right now…Ah got it. Oooh ok great I am your agent that will be facilitating this meeting. Your parents will want to meet him yes?”
“Definitely.”
“Ok so, what we will do is you and your parents will meet me at a public space of your choice then. I will bring you to meet the Alpha first, then your parents. We like to keep parent meetings brief as they tend to try and challenge the Alpha. I will have you know, this Alpha is an Apex like your dad. That is one of the reasons we chose you as his match, you have experience with an Apex. Will you be comfortable with all that?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Your head was reeling from all this information. Great, I see you guys are in New York City which is one of my favorite places to visit. Do you have anywhere in mind to meet?” 
“Um, we could do the Highline, there’s food, and it's pretty.” 
“Oh, that’s a great idea let me write it down here. How does September ninth at noon sound to you? A weekday so there are not too many people.” 
Your heart jumped, that’s in two days.
“Uh, sure.” 
“Alright, I will send you a follow-up email regarding our plans all you need to do is confirm. Your match will be notified, and his flight will be booked as soon as we receive confirmation. Do you have any other questions?” 
“No not at the moment.” 
“Ok, don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any concerns. I will see you in a few days.” 
“Bye.” 
You put your phone on your desk and walked out of your room. Your mother was standing a few feet away from your door. When she noticed you, her face lit up.
“So? How was the scent? Are you meeting them?” 
You smiled and nodded “Yup, in two days.” 
She squealed and captured you in a bone-crushing hug.
“I can’t wait! Let’s go tell your father!” She practically ran down the hall. 
You walked to your living room where your otherwise stoic-looking dad was watching TV. 
“Tell us about them, sweetheart.” Your mother said. Your dad turned the volume on the TV down and looked at you expectantly.
“Well, I don’t know much but, I know he’s not American and that he might be shy…He smells good.” 
“That’s important, I hope you wouldn’t pick someone who smells like shit.” Your dad chimed in. 
“He’s also military, and an Apex.” You added quickly. 
Your mother gasped quietly, and your father raised his eyebrows.
“Now that’s intriguing.” Your mom said smiling.
“You already booked a meeting with him?” Your dad asked. You nodded. 
“You should’ve asked me first.” He pinched his nose bridge in annoyance. 
“Well, he’s my match and I wanted to meet him.”
“Apex Alphas are dangerous. I would know.”
“Oh, please honey it’ll be fine.” Your mother ridiculed him.
“It’s my choice, Dad. You guys are the ones who signed up, I finally got a match, so I want to see it through. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll call it off.”
Your father growled lowly. “Fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your mother insisted to dress you in a cutesy outfit, so you let her have her moment. She dressed you in a dark floral dress that hugged your curves just right. She added dainty jewelry along with your protective collar. You didn’t usually wear it but again, she insisted. She did your hair half up half down. Your dad was waiting by the front door with your mom’s purse in hand. 
The train ride there was silent, your mother looked utterly content while your father was peeved about this whole situation. You arrived at the station and walked to the Highline. You got a text from Kara telling you what she looked like and where she was. She was wearing a dark blue pencil skirt and a white blouse. She stood up as you and your family approached. You stuck your hand out to shake hers.
“Nice to meet you guys, come sit.” She said motioning to the bench she was on. 
Your father stayed standing while you and your mother took a seat next to her. 
“So, there are some things I want to go over with you all and then I’ll talk to you privately and do the official meeting ok?”
“He’s here?” You said in an almost panicked tone.
Kara chuckled. “He is here but I left him to wait somewhere out of sight for now.”
She continued. “His name is König, he was born in Austria. When we did his psyche and personality evaluations, we found that he has neurodivergent tendencies, like you. Our matches with people that have a similar way of communicating have gone well.”
“Wait, neurodivergent?” Your mom chimed in. 
“Yes, your daughter did show signs of some behavioral abnormalities, but she is high functioning.”
“I told you that Mom.” You say giving her a deadpan look. Your mother looked down and gave a small ‘hmm’. Kara continued. 
“He does struggle with social anxiety so please be patient with him. Other than that, he currently lives in Amsterdam, if you choose to go forward that is where you will live.”
Your dad finally spoke “Is Amsterdam safe for people like us?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 
“Oh yes, Amsterdam has many people from different places and backgrounds. It is one of the most popular immigration and tourist countries, don’t worry.”
“Alright, how about you come with me, and we’ll get your meeting started.”
Kara led you away, you turned and did a small wave to your parents your mom smiled back at you warmly. 
“So, I will be in contact with you the whole time. If you want to go just say the word, I am never going to be more than a couple minutes away. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll have any issues with him.” 
She led you to a restaurant below the high line, it had indoor and outdoor seating. There were a lot of people laughing and drinking. Your heartbeat sped up as you scanned the crowd. The scent of food entered your nose. Everyone’s scent in the dining area mixed into an indescribable concoction. Among the borderline overwhelming smells, you got a hint of something familiar, espresso. 
You scanned the large room trying to pinpoint where it was coming from or if you were just imagining it. I dark figure near the corner of the room caught your eye. He looked way too large for the chair he was sitting in. He was looking down at his hands, dirty blonde hair covered his forehead. He was wearing a black cloth mask along with a form-fitting black shirt. As soon as you walked in he raised his head. You looked away pretending you weren't staring at him. Kara led you straight to his table.
“This is König.” She gestured to him. 
He stood up to shake your hand still keeping himself hunched at the waist to appear smaller. You shook his hand and smiled as you introduced yourself. He nodded and said a small 'hmm' to acknowledge you. 
“Alright, I'll be near. Have fun.” Kara left swiftly.
You sat down in the chair across from him as he did the same. A wave of anxiety came as you did, not knowing how to break the ice with him. You picked up the menu and scanned it.
“Did you order yet?” You ask.
“No, I was waiting for you.”
“Well thank you, what looks good?” 
“The Steak frites look pretty good.” He glued his menu.
“I'm excited for dessert, they have chocolate cheesecake.”
He chuckled and it made your stomach flip.
“You like sweets?” He asked.
“Very much.” You smile at him. 
The waitress came over and asked if you wanted any drinks. König looked at you, waiting for you to order first. 
“I'll try the elderberry gin and tonic.” You said.
 Konig was about to order when the table next to us erupted in loud laughter. He jumped slightly before answering the waitress. 
“I'll get the house Lager.” He said. 
The waitress left to grab the drinks. The adjacent table was still very loud. The group of friends hollering and screaming obviously day drunk. Konig had his head slightly turned away from them in an attempt to lessen the noise. It was subtle but you could tell. You reached into your bag and brought out a pair of foldable headphones. You turned on the noise cancellation and gave them to him. He looked slightly confused. 
“Put them on.” You encourage him. 
When he did the noise muffled and the restaurant was much quieter. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease by the second. His scent sweetened
“Is that better? Can you hear me ok?” 
König swears he could've kissed you right then and there, but he settles on a nod. 
“Thank you, Leibe.” 
“No problem.”
The waitress came by with the drinks and asked if the two of you are ready to order entrees. You ordered the fish and König ordered the Steak. While you waited, you two had a pleasant small talk about his flight and how he is enjoying his visit. He hesitated to take off his mask at first so you focused on your menu to give him the space to be comfortable with you. You glanced up and took in his face. He was beautiful, he had scars on his face that added ruggedness to his chiseled features. König noticed your scent amplify as you gazed at him. His inner alpha pushed him to be closer, to know more about you.
“So, you're in the military?” 
He nods. “I work for a military contractor. Do you work?”
“Sort of, I'm an author so I work from home.”
“That is nice, are you published?” König was secretly very happy he'd get to have you at home all day. 
“Yes, I am. I'm working on my sequel right now. Do you like to read? Or, do you read in German?” 
He chuckled. “I have not had much time to read lately, but I will now.”
“Well, you have to buy my book of course.” You giggled. 
König nearly fell off his chair at the sound. This Omega was everything he wanted. He prayed to whatever god was up there that you felt something with him. By the time the food came you both fell into a comfortable rhythm. He asked about your childhood and hobbies. It was a change of pace, most Alphas are very self-centered, but he is putting effort into getting to know you. The food came out and you both ate. He offered bites of his food for you to try which you happily returned the favor. By the time you finished your food, you hadn't noticed how much time has gone by. Kara texted you to check-in. 
'Hey, so I saw things were going well so I let you guys talk for an hour and a half but, your parents are getting antsy. Are you guys ready to see your parents?' 
“Oh, Kara is asking if we're ready to see my parents.” 
König fiddled with his fork. “I'm ready.” 
He paid the bill and you both left the restaurant. You took in the full size of the Alpha you matched with. He was no less than a giant. He held the door for you but stopped before he walked through. 
“I forgot something, I'll be back.” He walked back into the restaurant. 
Kara walked up to you. “How did it go?” 
“I...really like him...”
“I know, that feeling is scary. I think you guys are a wonderful match.”
König came out holding a small to-go box. He handed it to you, you could tell he was smiling under his mask. 
“What's this?”
Inside the box was a slice of chocolate cheesecake and a fork.
“We forgot to order dessert.” 
You were stunned, you didn't think there could be Alphas that were so thoughtful. Your inner Omega soared, this Alpha was courting you so well. 
“Thank you, König, that's really sweet.” 
“Ah, here they are.” Kara said. 
Your parents walked up to the three of you. Your mother had a surprised but happy look on her face. Your father kept his deadpan face from earlier, not a good sign. 
“Wow, sweetheart you caught a big one!” Your mom chuckled. 
“Parents, this is König.” Kara said. 
Your mother introduced herself and your father as he stood there sizing up the taller Apex. 
“Alright, let's keep things brief parents do you have any questions for König?”
“Well, as long as she likes him I don't.” Your mother said. 
“Can you protect her?” Your dad asked putting some venom behind his words. 
“I would never let anything happen to her sir. You have my word.” König answered without hesitation. 
Your dad nodded and looked at you. “You like him?”
“...Yeah I do.” 
“Alright then, that's all that matters.” 
“Well, I think it's safe to say that the match is made. I will contact you for the next steps. Parents, let's let them say goodbye.” Kara led your parents away.
You turned to König. “Thank you for meeting with me, I had a really good time.” You saw a faint blush at the top of his mask. 
“I also had a good time, liebe.” 
“What does that mean?”
“Ah...it means love.” 
“Oh well...” You motioned for him to come bend down close to you.
When he got close enough you pecked his cheek. 
“I'll see you soon, love.” 
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hauntingfaerie · 3 months
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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER
SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters
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It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.
Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.
“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”
You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.
“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”
Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”
You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.
You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.
You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.
You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.
You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.
You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”
One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”
You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.
“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”
Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”
A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”
Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”
That wrung a smile out of you.
Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.
As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”
Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”
You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.
“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.
You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”
A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”
A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.
Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?
“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.
Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”
Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”
“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”
You hated her.
“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.
Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”
“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”
Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.
You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.
Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.
Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.
He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.
“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.
“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.
A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.
He looked like he’d smell delicious.
A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.
“Uh… good morning,” you managed.
The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.
“I hope you are well,” he murmured.
You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.
Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.
Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.
And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.
You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.
“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”
Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.
“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”
Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.
“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”
He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”
Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.
“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.
You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.
Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.
“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”
Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.
“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”
Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.
“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.
You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.
Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.
Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.
You found yourself smiling faintly.
“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”
Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”
Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”
Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”
Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.
“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.
Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.
Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.
That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.
“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.
He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.
You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.
When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.
But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.
After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.
Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.
“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.
Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.
A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”
“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”
His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.
“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”
Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”
You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”
That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”
A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”
“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.
You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”
Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”
You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.
As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.
But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.
But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.
The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.
“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.
You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.
Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.
When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.
“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”
You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”
Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.
“Shouto, really, I—-”
“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.
You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”
You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.
But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.
You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.
Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.
“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.
He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.
“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”
Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”
It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”
“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.
You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”
“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.
Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.
“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”
Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”
A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.
A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.
Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.
“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”
Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?
“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.
Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”
Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.
“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.
“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.
You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”
Shouto nodded seriously.
A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”
“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.
You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.
You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.
“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.
You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.
Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.
You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.
You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.
“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.
Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.
Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.
You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.
You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.
As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.
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fatphobiabusters · 10 months
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This post is to remember the singer Cass Elliot who tragically died due to fatphobia. To put it simply, an entire life of cruelty about Cass Elliot's fatness caused her to resort to starvation diets, substance misuse, and what very well could have been an eating disorder. She attempted to survive the fatphobia by playing the fatphobic, stereotypical role of the "funny fat person." Not even in death was she allowed to escape fatphobia, as her tragic death was used as a fat joke by spreading a rumor that she had died by "gluttony." More specifically: choking on a sandwich. Despite that not being true, people continue to believe that debunked myth today. If not for this fatphobic society, Cass Elliot, an incredibly talented singer, would not have died at age 32, involuntarily leaving her only daughter parentless, and likely would have still been alive today.
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If you're not sure who Cass Elliot was, this is one of her most iconic songs with her former band:
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And here is a solo performance by her. Some people might recognize this song since it was apparently used for a TikTok trend:
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For more details about the horrendous fatphobia she endured her entire 32 years, here is a video and two articles that explain. A trigger warning for the second article since it uses the slur "ob*se" and "overweight."
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In memory of her, please do not call her "Mama Cass." She hated that nickname because it was used specifically due to fatphobic stereotypes.
If anyone needed an example of how deadly fatphobia has been for centuries, I hope you'll think of Cass Elliot, one of the plethora of people who have been killed by fat people's systemic oppression and still faces oppression to this day while 6 feet under.
-Mod Worthy
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rotruff · 3 months
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hey man your f/o just laid their head on your chest. yeah like all the tension left their body and they fell into a comfortable silence. yeah their breathing slowly fell into time with yours. uh huh yeah they started tapping along with your heartbeat. no yeah theyre gonna take a nap maybe or just watch a movie w you in comfortable silence. mmhm their voice is gonna get raspy. yeah. yeah sorry man it happens sometimes.
proship / adjacent dni
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madamemaddy · 7 months
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this isnt what he signed up for
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