#but honestly there are few good scene with him

[saintobio]

blank canvas. (3)

in an attempt to rekindle an already fractured relationship, you open your eyes to the harsh reality that some things, once broken, can no longer be repaired.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. florist x tattoo artist au, mild angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. strong language, explicit smut, toxic relationship

notes. 8.3k wc. here’s the last part !! although there will still be an epilogue, which will be posted a few days from now (let’s not jinx it lol). but thank you for supporting this three-part fic :’) feedback and reblogs are most appreciated!

part 2 | epilogue

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. 

Sighing, you stood behind the counter of your floral shop, absentmindedly picking on the rose petals like an infatuated teenager. It was almost ridiculous what you were doing out of boredom. And although the sweet scent of the flowers surrounding you were supposed to feel calming, it did little to lift the terrible weight on your chest. 

Two weeks had passed since you had given your virginity to Satoru. Two weeks since you tried to move on from Sukuna.

Others might say you were too irrational with it. Others might say you did the right thing. But honestly, what was so good about having sex with a guy you barely knew when you spent years refusing to do it with your actual boyfriend? 

Yes, you were definitely, undeniably irrational with it. You realized it all too late after you had already given your virginity to another guy. You weren’t even sure what compelled you to ask Satoru to do it with you, but at the time, it felt right. It felt reasonable that you were trying to get over an ex-boyfriend, out of spite, for not setting boundaries with other women while you were still together. You thought it would be fair to play a similar part in this tragic tale, that it wouldn’t be too bad not to set boundaries with other men who showed attraction to you, too. 

After all, Sukuna had countless women constantly latching onto him, while Satoru was the first guy within your past relationship who developed an interest in you. 

Besides, it wasn’t some kind of fairytale scene when you two slept together. Because to Satoru, it was nothing but a casual encounter. He did his best to make sure that you enjoyed it from finish to end, and you appreciated his sincerity in guiding you throughout, yet you couldn’t deny to yourself that all you had been thinking of at the time was Sukuna. You contrasted everything Satoru did with Sukuna—like how Satoru was slow and sensual, while Sukuna was rough and vulgar. Satoru enjoyed cuddling afterward, whereas Sukuna would likely go straight to sleep. Satoru was too clingy and playful, while Sukuna was more reserved and mature.

The worst part was, your heart still preferred one over the other. And it wasn’t the guy with the white hair and blue eyes. 

Satoru was a good guy, and he had genuine intentions, but after being intimate with someone you weren’t in love with, you understood that your potential relationship would never be as good as your previous one. You longed for a man like Sukuna, because despite his typical bad boy persona, he was anything but boring. Being with him was a thrill, and no matter how toxic it was, you were addicted to him.

And that’s wrong. Your lips curled into a frown. 

You glanced out the window for what felt like the hundredth time that day, your eyes drawn across the street to Sukuna’s tattoo shop. The neon sign that once buzzed with life now hung dark and lifeless. Every now and then, you could see some of his old clients passing by the shop, hoping for a chance that their favorite tattoo artist was back in business. But Sukuna still hadn’t reopened the shop in days, for almost a month now as a matter of fact, and his absence filled you with a gnawing sense of worry and longing. 

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, while that was certainly true, it also drove you crazy. Why hasn’t he opened his shop? you wondered, biting your lip. Did he move out? Did he forget about me entirely?

You turned back to your flowers, but your hands stilled as your thoughts consumed you. What would Sukuna think if he knew someone else had taken your virginity? The thought made your stomach twist. You could already hear his voice telling you that you had given yourself to someone else out of desperation, but it clearly didn’t work. If anything, it only made you miss him even more.

Your fingers traced the petals of a rose as memories flooded your mind. The way Sukuna used to look at you, his intense eyes softening just for you. The way his laugh would rumble through his chest when you said something funny. You missed him. You missed everything about him, even the way he could infuriate you with his arrogance.

A sigh escaped your lips as you placed the finished bouquet in a vase. The floral shop was quiet today, save for the distant hum of traffic outside. The city would be busy again during rush hour, but for now, you leaned against the counter, your gaze drifting back to the tattoo shop across. He’s probably with his ex, you thought, feeling a lump form in your throat. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder if he still thought about you. Did he miss me too? Or had he moved on completely?

You pressed your hand to your heart. You wanted to be with him. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him, how much you regretted trying to move on so quickly, how much you wished you didn’t break up with him. You had no backbone when it came to Sukuna. But the fear of rejection, the fear that he no longer cared, kept you rooted in place.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you walked to the front door and flipped the sign to “Closed.” It was best to close off early today. You needed a moment to yourself, a moment to clear your head in the safety of your bedroom. But as you locked the door, you couldn’t stop yourself from stealing one last glance at Sukuna’s shop. The light flickered at first, making you wonder whether you had just imagined it, but then your heart skipped a beat when you saw the lights completely turning on inside.

Your pulse quickened, and you found yourself drawn to the sight. If it was him in there, maybe this was your chance to talk and clear the air. Or maybe, it wouldn’t be wrong to simply check on him since he had been away for almost a month. What if something terrible had happened to him during those past weeks? What if he had gotten sick? With hesitant steps, you eventually crossed the street and approached his shop. There, you could see him through the window as you got closer, shirtless and his rib wrapped in a bandage, clearly covering a fresh new tattoo. In seeing your presence, he looked up, but his eyes passed over you as if you weren’t even there.

You knocked lightly on the glass door, and he glanced up again, but his expression remained indifferent, like he was trying to suppress his emotions. He didn’t move to open the door as you expected. In fact, he seemed to be arguing with himself in his head.

“Hey,” you started, your voice trembling slightly. “Can we talk?”

Sukuna didn’t respond right away when he wiped his hands on a rag, still not meeting your eyes. Your heart ached from the heavy silence, but before you could say anything more, the sound of a car engine broke the stillness of that scene. 

An expensive McLaren car pulled up to the curb, and you were quick to recognize its owner. 

It was Satoru rolling down his window, a bright smile on his face as he looked at you. His beam was almost blinding, distracting you from the presently awkward situation you had placed yourself in.

“Y/N,” he greeted cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension. “Did you miss me?”

Oh, Jesus. 

The words hung in the air like a bomb, and you felt the color drain from your face as you thought of how dangerous this situation would be for you. When you saw Sukuna’s eyes flicker with interest, his posture stiffened as he finally paid attention, and you realized it was too late. Way too late. 

“Is that guy bothering you?” Sukuna finally asked, his voice unusually calm as he approached the door. The closer the proximity, the more your heart started to race. It was running at 250 km/h like it was on track. 

Satoru’s smile then faltered, now sensing the shift in the atmosphere. It was his first time meeting Sukuna, and based on the stories you had shared with him and Suguru, he was smart enough to recognize that the tattooed man was your ex. 

“I got what you asked for.” Satoru ignored Sukuna and looked back at you, holding up a small bag. “Birth control, right?”

Never in your life did you want to disappear like a puff of smoke. The sudden turn of events was so wild and unexpected. You could see that Satoru was enjoying provoking your ex-boyfriend, but the whole exchange was making you feel nauseous. The tension was so overwhelming that you couldn’t speak, or move, or do anything at all. You were simply frozen. 

It was also at that time when Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his gaze moving between you and Satoru. The pieces began to click into place, and a dark realization settled over his features. “You slept with him?” he asked, his voice low and accusatory.

“Sukuna, I…” Your breath caught in your throat because you couldn’t find the damn words to respond. Should you deny it? Should you say it wasn’t anything like that? There was no way you could get out of this situation even if you wanted to. 

But Satoru stepped out of his car in your defense. “It’s none of your business what she does—”

“Shut up, you douchebag,” Sukuna snapped, his glare turning deadly. He looked at you with sharp eyes, ones filled with a mixture of hurt and fury. With the way he was glaring, you knew he was murdering you in his head. “So this is how you move on?”

Your eyes stung from the incoming tears. You wanted to explain, to tell him that you only did it out of spite, but the words just wouldn’t come. You knew it was still wrong and that it would be a huge slap to his face hearing that you had hooked up with someone else before him. You hadn’t even confirmed anything, yet the intensity of Sukuna’s gaze already made you feel like you were suffocating. 

As the two men stood there, locked in a silent standoff, you recognized it as the loudest silence you had experienced in your life. That was, until Satoru broke that silence by reaching for your hand. “Let’s go,” he said gently, guiding you towards his car.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on Sukuna, but the look of betrayal on his face was too much to bear. It was either you turn away and leave him behind or you stay there and explain to him. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t have the courage to do the latter. 

— —

The roar of Sukuna’s bike echoed through the night, slicing through the darkness as he raced down the highway like a motorcycle racer on a professional track. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, jealousy and rage fueling his every movement. With every thought of you, his knuckles felt cold. 

Look, he wasn’t planning to pursue you after you left with that guy, but his ego just wouldn’t allow it. After piecing the situation together, something inside him just snapped. Like a timebomb. A very dangerous one. He couldn’t control his emotions, and he couldn’t just let you go like that. Damn it. Almost two years of forcing him into celibacy, and you suddenly threw yourself at a guy you just met?

He revved his motorbike, scoffing bitterly behind his helmet. He was riding recklessly, without a care to the other vehicles he almost crashed into. Fuck. He had spent nearly a month sulking over your pathetic breakup, he had tried his hardest to avoid you, when all this time, you were out there offering your virginity to some random trust fund-looking guy. How ridiculous was that? How utterly, goddamn ridiculous was it? Maybe you had just revealed your true colors right there. You had always felt uncertain about Sukuna because he had nothing but a tattoo shop and a decent motorbike. Now, you’ve met the picture-perfect guy your parents always wanted for you, so you found it easy to spread your legs open and allow some other guy’s dick inside.

You were worse than a whore. 

The wind whipped against his bare chest, but he paid no mind to the cold. He didn’t care anymore. Even if the police were to chase after him, he didn’t fucking care. His focus was on the red taillights of your new guy’s McLaren car ahead of him. Sukuna pushed the throttle, his bike accelerating with a ferocious growl, causing a scene along the highway. 

He mapped the situation in his head. Who was faster in this highway chase; the McLaren or his bike? While the McLaren 720 had a higher top speed, Sukuna’s Yamaha YZF-R1 was highly agile and could be more maneuverable in tight spaces. In a straight-line chase, the McLaren would eventually outpace his bike, but in scenarios involving a lot of maneuvering, he could have an advantage.

Too bad for you and your new guy though, since this highway was Sukuna’s domain. His superbike had already passed through the tightest of spaces in the midst of traffic during rush hour, so he was a clear winner here. 

And in saying that, the distance between you closed rapidly, and soon he was right behind the car, the bike’s engine roaring like a beast unleashed. With a piercing screech of tires, Sukuna maneuvered his bike alongside Satoru’s car, forcing him to pull over by kicking the driver’s side door. The car drifted and screeched to a halt on the shoulder of the highway, and Sukuna followed suit, cutting the engine and dismounting in one fluid motion. His precious bike, now discarded on the floor, all for the sake of confronting the woman he thought had loved him. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Satoru demanded, stepping out of the car with a confident swing. He tried to look tough by using their height differences against him, but he wasn’t intimidating to Sukuna at all. 

“Get out, Y/N,” Sukuna ordered, his voice dangerously low as he ignored Satoru and the countless cars honking behind them. His eyes were locked on the passenger side where you sat, your expression an amalgam of fear and hesitation. “I said get the fuck out!” 

“Dude, chill out.” Satoru tried to put a hand on his shoulder, only to have his hand swiftly rebuffed. “I’m not letting her go with a man who’s clearly upset.”

“Stay the fuck outta this,” Sukuna growled, his fists clenched at his sides. The white-haired punk should take that as a warning. He should back out before his fist lands on his precious face. Plastic surgery isn’t cheap nowadays. “Y/N, if you don’t wanna cause a scene, I suggest you get the fuck outta there.”

**

Your chest rose and fell as you looked between the two men. You knew Sukuna well enough to understand that he wasn’t going to back down. And with a line of angry cars honking at the unnecessary traffic jam you were causing, you had no other choice but to open the door and step out.

Satoru's first instinct was to gesture for you to stay back. “Y/N—”

“Satoru, it’s okay,” you said softly. “I need to talk to him.”

The white-haired man hesitated at first, clearly worried for your safety, but with your insistence, he eventually nodded and stepped back to give you space. Sukuna’s eyes burned with intensity as he watched that interaction between you two.

“‘Kuna, can we at least pull over on the side and not talk in the middle of the highway?” you practically begged, your voice trembling as a few cars managed to squeeze their way between the McLaren and the YZF-R1, throwing harsh curse words towards you and your ex-boyfriend for the road blockage you had caused. Sukuna didn’t even flinch. All you could see was the anger in his eyes, and the pain lurking just beneath his irises.

“I’m perfectly fine talking here,” was Sukuna’s reply, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me why you’re with that douche. I think you owe me a damn good explanation, angel.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. You just wanted to get this conversation over with. “W-We broke up. It shouldn’t matter to you anymore.”

Beep. Beep. “Get off the road, you idiots! You’re holding everyone up!”

Beep. Beep. “Who do you think you are, blocking traffic like this?”

“Is that so?” Sukuna scoffed, taking a step closer as he cornered you. “You moved on pretty quickly, didn’t you?”

You flinched at his tone, but you knew you had to tell him the truth. You knew you would not be able to escape this situation if you didn’t admit it sooner or later. “Something did happen between me and Satoru,” you finally confessed, feeling uneasy from the lingering eyes of the heated drivers. “I didn’t plan it, it was just…”

Beep. Beep. “This is a highway, not a soap opera set!”

Beep. Beep. “Take your drama somewhere else!”

Sukuna’s eyes were clouded in disgust, the color of his lenses becoming red from the fire of his fury. “So you really gave it to him?!” he demanded, his voice rising. He looked like he could punch someone at this rate. “After everything we had, you gave yourself to someone else?!”

Beep. Beep. “Learn to drive and pull over if you want to argue!”

You could feel your entire body shaking, but you tried to hold your ground. “I-I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it would help me forget about you.”

“Forget about me?” Sukuna’s laugh was harsh, almost maniacal, because he was truly losing his shit. “You think you can forget about me by sleeping with some random guy?” He took another step closer, his presence far more overwhelming than the rest of the vehicle surrounding you. “You’re nothing to me now,” he snarled at your face, the reality of his words cutting through your heart like a knife. “You’re just another girl who threw herself away.”

Tears spilled over as you watched him turn his back on you, preparing to mount his bike again. “And what about you, Sukuna?” you challenged, despite his obvious departure. “Do you think you’re any better? You act as if you wouldn’t have cheated on me if I hadn’t confronted you about it!”

For a moment, Sukuna was silent, his anger and pain warring within him. Then he shook his head, his expression hardening as he pulled down the visor of his helmet. “But I never cheated,” he said that fact coldly, “So, don’t expect me to stick around and pick up the pieces. You’re just somebody’s leftover now.”

He turned away, the finality of his words hanging in the air to wreck you in half. As soon as he sped up the bike, he vanished into the highway, accelerating from 0 to 60 mph in 2 seconds. The roar of his bike was louder than a thunderstorm. He didn’t even care for his own safety. And as you watched him go, you could feel the rain pouring out with your heart breaking all over again, like a vase cracking against the floor, its pieces forever irreparable. 

His words hurt more than his actions ever did. And you were never one to handle it as good as you thought you would be.

— —

“I’m not trying to be biased here or anything,” Choso said, lighting his cigarette as he leaned against his Harley Davidson bike. “But even if you weren’t my step-bro, I still think you did the right thing. I wouldn’t be able to stomach hearing my ex-girlfriend be fucked by some dude after years of not giving it to me.”

Sukuna crouched next to his R1, the polished bike gleaming under the fluorescent lights of the garage. He had his shirt lay discarded nearby, leaving his toned torso exposed as he worked on changing oil. Sweat mixed with grease smudged across his chest and arms, emphasizing the taut muscles and the intricate tattoos that covered his skin. If he had women here, they would have fainted already. The sight of him sweaty and shirtless while working on his bike would have been an eye candy for them, but he didn’t need to think of that now. He merely focused on moving his hands deftly, loosening bolts and draining the old oil into a container. The methodical process offered him a momentary distraction from the chaos in his mind.

“It’s simple,” Sukuna spoke, pausing to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand and inadvertently spreading more grease, “The albino guy looks rich. She just proved to me she’s nowhere near being a good girl when a rich guy’s involved.” 

The memory of his ex-girlfriend as she was picked up by another man replayed in his head. He couldn’t stop imagining how your first night went on. Did you let him fuck you raw? Did you let him hit you from the back? Did you let him cum inside? Did you go for round two? Did you choke on his cock like a good girl? 

He remembered what your naked body looked like. How soft your breasts felt like. How sweet your pussy tasted like. Now, another man had a taste of it, and he couldn’t be any more disgusted. It was sickening to think that another man’s cock got to feel you inside before he did. And that you willingly allowed it. 

“Fuck that,” he muttered to himself, tightening the new oil filter. His eyes narrowed in concentration, but his mind drifted back to the breakup. He’d always prided himself on being in control, on not letting himself be caught in temptation. But you had pushed his buttons too far, and even though he still never betrayed you, he was sick in the stomach to see that you were the first one who did. 

“Women,” Choso agreed, grinning as he shook his head. “If she wasn’t Yuki’s friend, I would’ve cut her off.” 

The wrench slipped from Sukuna's hand, leaving it to clatter to the ground. He cursed under his breath, bending down to retrieve it, his movements were fluid and graceful despite the tension in his body. “You don’t need to cut her off. It’s between me and her. She still treated you like a brother.”

The younger man raked his fingers through his raven hair, checking himself out on the bike’s mirror. “Nah. She was closer to Yuuji than me, anyway.” 

Sukuna stood up, wiped his hands on a rag, and poured fresh oil into the engine. The task was almost done, but his thoughts remained tangled. Seeing you with someone else couldn’t stop igniting a fire in him, a possessive rage he couldn’t quite shake. He missed the way you two were before, the way you couldn't get enough of each other when you were together. He missed the connection you shared, because it was something he hadn’t felt with anyone else.

Finishing the oil change, he straightened up, staring at his reflection in the bike’s mirror. The man looking back at him seemed foreign, his usual arrogance tempered by a vulnerability he didn’t care to acknowledge. He then ran a hand through his hair, smearing more grease, and sighed.

“Maybe it’s time to go back to the old times,” Sukuna spoke his thoughts out loud, with his step-brother merely staring at him. “I’m single now.” 

With a final glance at the bike, Sukuna grabbed his shirt and slipped it on, the fabric sticking to his damp skin. He needed a ride to clear his head, to feel the rush of the wind against his face. As he swung a leg over the R1, threw his helmet on, and revved the engine, the powerful roar echoed through the space, drowning out his thoughts for a moment.

“Be careful out there!” was Choso’s last reminder.

He sped off, the world blurring around him, but no matter how fast he went, he couldn’t escape the image of your face or the sting of jealousy that burned in his chest. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, and your face haunted him at every turn. 

As he rode, his anger simmered, his frustration building with each passing moment. The pain of betrayal gnawed at him, further fueling his reckless impulses. You’re such a piece of shit. All this time, you were claiming to be this too good of a girl who was as innocent as a bunny. When, as a matter of fact, you and your new boy toy were fucking each other like rabbits. It was funny, really, how you made him wait two years for nothing. He was your boyfriend, and yet you deprived him of sexual pleasure by pretending you were scared of it. What kind of stupid virgin would throw herself to a random guy when she’s scared to lose her virginity to her own boyfriend? 

Such bullshit. With a growl of frustration, Sukuna veered off course, his bike skidding to a stop in front of a familiar building. The apartment loomed before him as a dark silhouette against the night sky. It had been several weeks since he had seen her, but tonight, he didn’t care.

His fists clenched at his sides as he marched up the steps to her door. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anger and desperation swirling inside him. He was going crazy and he wanted to blow off steam. He wanted to let his frustration out, so he banged on the door, the sound of his fist colliding with the wood echoing through the quiet street.

After a moment, the door swung open, and a stunned Yorozu stood before him, bleary-eyed and disheveled. Surprise flickered across her face as she took in his appearance, his eyes burning with intensity.

“Ryo… What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. The last time they spoke, he was very vocal about having a girlfriend and wanting to keep things professional. 

Sukuna, this time around, didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I need you.”

Yorozu’s eyes widened in surprise. “But you—”

“Please, Yorozu.” He pressed a hand against the door, cornering her in between. “I really, really need you right now.” 

She wasn’t naive. She understood his implication, and he had certainly conveyed that he was no longer with you. And without hesitation, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter without a word. Sukuna felt a rush of adrenaline as soon as he was inside her place, his mind consumed by the need to forget, if only for a moment.

The door closed behind him, and in the darkness of the apartment, Sukuna grabbed Yorozu’s face and kissed her lips, drowning her in the heat of passion. Things were a blur after that, because he wasn’t thinking clearly. Because he wasn’t in his proper mind. He was letting his rage cloud his thoughts, his bitterness driving his every movement. The next thing he knew, they were stumbling into her room, unable to break their intense kiss. He had kissed her like there was no tomorrow, like her mouth was suction that he couldn’t escape. 

And soon enough, she was naked in her room, knelt before him as he forced his cock inside her mouth. He couldn’t get a sense of time. He couldn’t even tell if it was already midnight. All he knew was that his next few hours were spent with Yorozu, this time around, with him burying his digits in and out of her soaking pussy. 

“Haaah!” She arched her back as an intense wave of pleasure hit her insides. “R-Ryo!” 

Fuck. Fuck it. Sukuna, without warning, put his cock inside her cunt. And her fucked her with rage, jostled her body like a sex doll, while her eyes rolled backwards in overwhelming satisfaction. She was grinning in absolute ecstasy, her breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit her sensitive spot before he leaned forward to suck her perfectly round breast. 

Listen, he blacked out after that. So, if you were to ask him what happened after that session with Yorozu, he wouldn’t be able to answer you because he genuinely passed out from exhaustion. All he remembered was them fucking each other’s daylights out, and the next morning, she took good care of him like she was his girlfriend again. 

No, she wasn’t. 

In fact, Sukuna was labeled an asshole for ghosting her. He didn’t contact her after that night, nor did he have any further encounter with her. Instead, he went back to his old life way before you. An addict, an alcoholic, a womanizer. 

For the next few months, that became his life without you. 

He slept with different girls every few nights, especially his clients. It got to a point where he couldn’t even recall their names, and he couldn’t remember having brought them to his apartment the night prior, because he was often too high off his mind. Every girl who came to his tattoo shop for an appointment became his companion during the night. And today, one of those girls was among the many who annoyed him afterward.

“Hey,” the girl spoke in a lascivious manner, running her slender fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure if her name was Rina or Kiko. “You slept throughout the afternoon. Do you wanna go grab something to eat?” 

Sukuna groaned, covering his head with a duvet. “Why are you still here?” 

He didn’t need to see her face to know that confusion settled her delicate features. “But I thought we were…” 

“Leave,” was his harsh reply. “You’re just a one-night stand to me.” 

— —

“So, Y/N,” Suguru began with a playful twinkle in his eye. “Why haven’t you made Satoru yours yet?” 

You rolled your eyes at Getou’s antics. He was clearly on it with his best friend, and their goal today seemed to be to tease the heck out of you. “Maybe I like to keep him guessing,” you retorted with a smirk, though your mind was far from the playful banter. 

“But there’s nothing to guess!” Satoru, on the other hand, protested. He was even displaying a childish pout. “We’ve seen each other naked, you know—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you swiftly covered his mouth with your hand, earning a cackle from Suguru in return. Thank goodness there weren’t that many people in the cafe today, because you were never safe around those two. They were inseparable, like two peas in a pod, sharing one brain cell. Like yin yang.

“Shut up,” you merely replied. 

“Baby, don’t be shy,” Satoru teased again, giggling like an immature child together with Suguru. “You’re an adult who did adult things.” 

You sighed, wondering if you would ever get a break from these idiots. “This is exactly why I don’t date you.” 

It was a joke, of course. The delivery, however, was a bit dry. But nonetheless, your statement caused Suguru to laugh at his best friend who, in his defense, tried to recover his trampled ego by denying your statement. 

“She’s lying,” Satoru denied, as if convincing Suguru was his top priority, “You never told me your cousin’s hard-to-get.” 

 “Yeah,” agreed Suguru, playfully, “Definitely hard-to-get. The only girl who can make Sukuna pussy-less for two years.”

“Hey!” It was Yuki who intervened, knowing full well that Getou was below the belt on that joke. “Enough of that.”

In truth, you felt it was a touchy subject for you. Anything related to Sukuna, especially that aspect of your past relationship, was something you avoided like a plague. You wanted no mentions of him, and of what he did, and of what you didn’t do. He had simply become that person who can’t be named, like Voldemort. 

But the thing was, it was unavoidable sometimes. You weren’t mad at Suguru for bringing him up. You knew that him and Satoru, ever mischievous, were just playfully ribbing at you, but you couldn’t muster up the same enthusiasm to banter back. You were just upset because hearing Sukuna’s name reminded you of the very reason why you hadn’t been in the happiest mood today.

If it wasn’t obvious to them, your mind had been elsewhere since this morning, too fixated on the influx of girls you noticed had been frequently visiting Sukuna’s tattoo shop lately. You knew you didn’t have the right to feel jealous anymore, you knew you should no longer care about what he does with his life, but you couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that something was off.

And Yuki, sensing your distraction, gently pulled you to the side for a private conversation away from the chatter of your friends. 

“Hey, Y/N. Everything okay?” Yuki asked, her tone soft and understanding. She wasn’t forcing you to open up, rather, she was allowing you to share only what you wanted to. 

You did hesitate for a moment before finding it safe to confide in her. “I just can’t stop thinking about him. And those girls at his shop... I don’t know, it’s just been bothering me."

Yuki listened attentively, her expression empathetic. “Y/N, I know this might be hard to hear, but have you considered that Sukuna might be seeing other people?”

Your heart sank at Yuki’s words. You had entertained the thought before, but hearing it from someone else made it feel more real. “Is… Is he?” 

“Well, not exactly,” she admitted reluctantly. “But Choso told me he’s been sleeping around.” Yuki then placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, anticipating your heartbreak from the news she delivered. And she was right. In just a few words, it felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife on the chest. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I agree, you deserve someone who respects and cherishes you. If Sukuna isn’t that person, then maybe it’s time to let go.”

You forced a nod, feeling a mix of sadness and regret wash over you, but you didn’t want to break down in front of Yuki. You definitely didn’t want to cry with Satoru and Suguru around. You knew deep down that Yuki was right, but accepting it was just another matter entirely and you weren’t sure if you were prepared for it.

“Listen, why don’t we go out?” she offered, a smile of encouragement spreading on her peachy lips, “Let’s have a drink or something. Anything just to keep your mind off of him. What do you say?” 

— —

It was a mistake. 

You fidgeted uncomfortably on the barstool, feeling out of place amidst the pulsating music and the raucous laughter that filled the rooftop bar. Yuki, Getou, and Gojou seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, chatting animatedly over their drinks like it was a scene that they were used to. But for you, this environment was foreign territory. You weren’t accustomed to the loudness, the crowdedness, the palpable energy that thrummed through the air. Heck, you didn’t even drink alcohol. You couldn’t stand the taste nor could you see the benefit of drinking. 

But you didn’t want to be a party pooper. Yuki did you a favor here, and it was for you to get your mind off the man who kept torturing your soul over and over. If you were to leave now, it would just beat Yuki’s purpose of tagging you along. 

You were supposed to enjoy it. You were supposed to have fun, dancing with them, singing along to the music. They weren’t even the type of music Sukuna listened to. 

“Y/N, bottoms up!” You weren’t sure if it was Satoru or Suguru who said that, but they both offered you a small glass of vodka, urging you to drink it in one shot. 

As much as you wanted to, you had to refuse, speaking over the loud music. “I’m good, thank you.” 

And as you scanned the room, your eyes inadvertently locked onto a figure across the bar. 

Amidst the throng of people. 

The one person you wanted to avoid. 

Sukuna. 

He stood out effortlessly in the crowd, exuding an aura of confidence and charisma that drew your gaze like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t believe it. No, you just couldn’t believe it. You could be hallucinating because it would be too much of a coincidence for him to be here. 

But as soon as his eyes met yours, you knew he wasn’t just a figure of your imagination. Deep in your heart, you knew it was him. You couldn’t be mistaken when those eyes, those lips, those goddamn tattoos, were all him.

Though, as you two locked gaze, his expression told a different story. They were a jumble of surprise, guilt, and bitterness. He seemed just as startled to see you as you were to see him. But beneath it all, there was an undeniable tension, a silent acknowledgment of unfinished business between you.

No, you can’t walk away from me. Excusing yourself quietly, you slipped away from the table, unnoticed by your friends, and made your way through the crowd of people towards him. He was already walking away at that point, ready to avoid your presence as if seeing you was torture for him. But didn’t he know? You were too stubborn for your own good. You relentlessly followed him, squeezing in between a drunken crowd, realizing that Sukuna was heading down. 

In the abandoned part of the building’s parking lot, you finally caught up to him, your heart pounding in your chest as you faced him. 

“‘Kuna,” you called out, “Please.” 

Sukuna turned to face you, his expression unreadable as he regarded you with dark, intense eyes. “Hey,” he replied coolly, his voice a low rumble in the night air as he walked closer to his bike.

“You’re not supposed to ride when you’re drunk,” you began. 

To which he sneered at. “Why? You think I’m here to offer you a ride back home, angel?” 

Aggravating as ever. He was still that arrogant bastard you knew, and loved. “No, you’re probably doing that to someone else.” 

“Why don’t you go back to your filthy rich boyfriend?” 

“Are you jealous?” you bit back, now feeling a palpable tension transpiring between you, but you tried not to let it stop you from speaking to him. “Whatever happened to me and Satoru was just one time.” 

Sukuna scoffed at your statement. “I didn’t ask, angel.” 

Truthfully, he was the most frustrating man in the world right now. And dealing with him was definitely the hardest job ever, but your purpose of running after him wasn’t to bicker. All you wanted was to confirm something that had been bothering you. So you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “Have you been sleeping around?” 

His expression remained stoic, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of defiance. “Are you jealous?” he mocked, returning the same question back to you. “So what if I am?” 

You couldn’t tell what overcame you more; was it the pain or the anger? But surely, a hundred percent, your frustration was definitely boiling over. “So you are,” you huffed, “See, that wasn’t so hard to admit, isn’t it? This is what you’ve always wanted to do! To sleep with those girls!” 

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the tension was crackling in the air like electricity. Then, without warning, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab your jaw.

“You don’t get to turn this back around on me,” he spat, swallowing the obvious pain in his voice, “You’re the one who started it all.”  

Your breath was caught in your throat as you felt the heat of his body so close to yours, his touch igniting an altogether new fire within you. Despite the anger building inside your heart, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him, the magnetic attraction that seemed to draw you together like two black holes ready to destroy one another. 

“I fucking waited for you,” he continued, his voice now deepening in a more sincere tone, “I know I was wrong for not setting boundaries, but I never, not once, cheated on you. I never fucking did! But you couldn’t trust me, right? You couldn’t fuckin’ trust me.” His pupils dilated as he raised his voice. “You’re so caught up in being too goddamn insecure about yourself when all I wanted was to have intimacy with you—”

“All you wanted was sex, just admit that!” you yelled back, jerking his hand away as tears began to fill your eyes. “And maybe I was right for giving my first to someone else, because you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it when you’ve always pressured me into giving it to you.”

Sukuna’s laughter filled the air, a disbelieving chuckle that bordered on frustration. He threw his head back, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. Without hesitation, he snatched his helmet and hurled it across the floor, the sound of impact startling you.

“I never fucking pressured you!” His voice was raw with emotion as he walked back towards you, frustration and hurt evident in every step. “You’re the only girl I genuinely respected. You think I enjoyed being celibate for two fucking years?! No, the fuck, I didn’t! But I waited. I waited because I didn't want you to feel forced! It was all in your fucking head, Y/N. Your doubts, your uncertainties about me. I’m a man too, damn it! Of course, it frustrated me, but that doesn’t mean I would ever leave you or cheat on you.” And just when you thought it was over, he spoke again, his words now silencing into a painful tone, his eyes shining from the tears blanketing his gaze, “Did you think you were the only one who was insecure? Every damn day, Y/N, I was scared you were gonna leave me. That you were gonna find some other guy, someone who could give you everything you want—a big house, a nice car, a successful life. I didn’t have all that. And it kills me every single day knowing that that’s exactly the type of guy you went after the moment we broke up.” 

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, as Sukuna’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, couldn’t find the words to refute his accusations. Because deep down, you knew he had a point. Your doubts, your insecurities—they had clouded your judgment, poisoned your perception of Sukuna. And now, faced with his raw honesty, you couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

But accepting that truth was a bitter pill to swallow. It meant acknowledging your own flaws, your own role in the breakdown of your relationship. And it meant coming to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, you had let your fears drive you to push away the person who had truly cared for you.

As Sukuna stood before you, frustration and hurt etched into every line of his face, you felt a pang of regret twist in your chest. You wanted to reach out, to apologize, to admit that you had your wrongs, too. But no words came out, choked by the weight of your own self-doubt.

“I…” you struggled to respond. It was a battle you weren’t ready to fight, so your only option was to run away. To turn away like a coward, and to flee the agonizing reality of your relationship. 

But Sukuna didn’t let you. Instead, he closed the remaining space between you, his lips crashing down on yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

In that moment, all thoughts of anger and confrontation melted away as you surrendered to the intoxicating allure of Sukuna’s touch. Lost in the heat of the moment, lost in a puddle of strong emotions. You fell deeper into the trap of your undeniable sexual tension, your bodies becoming entwined in a passionate embrace in the empty parking lot. 

His lips were soft against yours, his tongue rolling in the opposite motion as you kissed him deeper. More, more. He was hungry for more. And so were you. 

So when he kissed your neck, you allowed it. 

When he squeezed your breast, you allowed it. 

When he raised your skirt, you allowed it. 

You released a moan into his mouth as he sat you on top of his motorbike, standing in between your legs as he reattached his lips back to yours. Your mouths enveloped each other perfectly. The bittersweet taste of his tongue, now moving south down your neck. 

“Sukuna…” 

While his mouth was busy doing its own work, his hands too were occupied in touching areas he had once explored. One hand travelled to your thigh, squeezing your flesh before he reached your crotch. Two fingers touched your underwear, as if he was checking if you were wet, before he pushed them onto the side to set your cunt free. 

You ended up wrapping your arms around his neck, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingers played with your entrance. Your clit, your sensitive bud, also wasn’t ignored when he began moving his fingers in a circular motion. 

“Mmmh!” 

What was going through his head? You knew he was aroused, but why did his gaze look so dark? It was too grim, to the point where it scared you. But you were far too distracted when his other hand went to grab a hold of your tit, squeezing your mound, and kneading the soft skin. He had pulled down your neckline to release your tits in the air, quickly attaching his mouth onto one breast as soon as they were out in the open. 

“Haaah!” 

You were going crazy, both from the fingers that were entering your cunt, and the mouth that was sucking your tit. You had your back arched into a C, your arms grabbing onto his shoulder as he became more and more aggressive with his touch. 

And you weren’t exaggerating when you said he was being more aggressive with it, because when he pulled himself away from you, it only lasted for a few seconds before he grabbed your waist and twisted your body around. In a blink of an eye, he had you position against his motorbike, with your body leaning against the seat and your ass high enough for his crotch. 

“S-Sukuna, s-someone might walk in—”

He had pulled your underwear down, letting it stay in between your knees, before rubbing your pussy from behind. His breath was warm when he whispered into your ear, “Don’t act like you hate it.” 

He wasn’t wrong with that either. Because while he was touching your entrance, testing if the tip of his cock would smoothly glide in, you became an animal in heat, ready to be devoured by him. You had to cover your mouth, forcing yourself to keep your voice down as he finally buried his cock six inches deep inside of you. 

“A-Aah!” your body jerked forward as Sukuna rawdogged you from behind. “S-Sukuna, aah!”

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he cussed under his breath, feeling a painful stretch on your scalp as he pulled your hair, “Did he fuck you this good?” 

“Mmh—no!” 

The sound of skin-slapping was reverberating across the empty lot.

“Did you let him cum inside?”

“N-No…!”

He was insatiable. He couldn’t get enough of the tightness of your cunt. He, too, was moaning from the feeling of your velvet walls milking his cock like a warm glove. So he continued to thrust inside you, his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as he rammed his cock inside faster, and harder, and deeper. 

Your buttocks were becoming too sore, the stretch of skin on your bum vibrating in waves every time he hit you balls deep inside.

And while you were a moaning hot mess below him, a realization suddenly hit you in the face like a truck. Throughout your relationship, this was all he had ever wanted to do with you. He had always talked about doing it slowly, in a romantic set up with candles lit and petals around, in a place where you can lay yourself comfortably. You dreamed of him whispering I love you’s into your mouth as you two made love. You fantasized about him lovingly looking into your eyes as he reached his high. You used to picture him out, intertwining his hands with yours as he tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

Yet now, you were doing it in the basement parking lot. In a dark, dirty place. Bent over against the uncomfortable seat of his bike. 

And more importantly, he was treating you like a whore. 

Tears welled up your eyes as you felt Sukuna pull out after finishing. For a minute, he gathered himself together, his head pressed against your nape as he sighed. 

“It’s not working, Y/N,” he mumbled against your skin, voicing the exact words you were afraid to hear.

“I know…” You sniffed, pulling the strap of your dress back up and adjusting your skirt back down.

He didn’t need to say anything more. When he gave you one last kiss on the forehead and wrapped you in his jacket, you understood the full weight of his words. It wasn’t just about this moment; it was about everything that had led you here. 

It didn’t work because you had already shattered your perceptions of each other. Both tarnished the way you saw one another. He would never come to terms with the fact that you gave yourself to another guy, just as you could never accept that he had slept with the same girls you had always warned him about. It would only lead to a constant game of back-and-forths, of pointing fingers, of toxic love.

So you watched him mount his bike, rev the engine, and look at you one last time before speeding away. His figure disappeared into the dark like a shadow, like a dream you only once knew. 

That was the last time you ever saw Ryomen Sukuna in your lifetime.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #sukuna angst #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jjk angst

[queenshelby]

The Price for Fame (Part Two)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Three days later, on set, with tension running high, you found yourself back in Cillian's trailer again for another meeting. 

You had screwed up a few scenes, unable to concentrate on your performance due to the mental anguish from the arrangement you had in place with Cillian despite the fact thar you were engaged to a good catholic man.

"I am sorry, I am just having troubles focusing," you told him as soon as you sat foot in his trailer, looking at Cillian with a mixture of shame and frustration in your eyes. You knew that he was upset and that you were in for a lecture after the director had complained about your performance once again. 

"Close the door behind you," was all he said before leaning back in his chair a

You did as you were told and took a seat opposite him, your hands splayed nervously on your lap. 

"It's not like me to mess up my lines like this, honestly, it's just ... I don't know," you began, trying to explain your uncharacteristic lack of focus.

"Like I said, we need to address this urgently. I can't afford to not deliver on this movie, and you really need to pull yourself together Y/N,"  Cillian lectured, his eyes burning holes into you as if trying to force his indignation into your soul.

While part of you wanted to argue, to defend yourself, another part of you just shyly nodded, shrinking beneath his disapproving gaze.

"Yes, I'm really sorry, I just... I don't know. I can't seem to shake this lately," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Listen, Y/N, I have half a mind to re-cast your role. I can't have you so unfocused and distracted when we're shooting such crucial scenes."

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had dedicated so much time and energy to this role. You had even slept with him twice and now he was threatening to take it all away from you? The thought of losing your part in this film brought you to the brink of tears.

"Please, Cillian," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I swear I'll do better. I just need some time to get myself back together."

Cillian leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours. "You have one week," he said, his tone stern. "One week to prove that you can focus and deliver a decent performance, or I'm replacing you."

You nodded frantically, feeling a mix of relief and desperation wash over you. You would do anything to keep your role in this film, even if it meant fighting through your personal struggles.

"Thank you Cillian ," you whispered, your shoulders slumping in exhaustion before you got up from your seat, causing him to shake his head.

"Don't leave just yet Y/N," he spoke gruffly, his tone dripping with need. You looked at him questioningly, your mind still spinning with the impending deadline.

"Come here and show me how thankful you are for this chance," Cillian demanded while suggestively unbuckling his belt.

"Please, Cillian. My fiancé is coming to visit me tonight. I can't do this," you pleaded with him, your desperation turning to panic.

Cillian chuckled before standing up from his seat and stalking towards you.

You backed away, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian approached. But there was nowhere for you to go in the small trailer. He quickly closed the gap between you, pinning you against the wall.

"Do you want to keep your role in this movie?" he hissed in your ear, his warm breath causing you to shudder.

"Yes, yes, I do!" you stammered just before Cillian unzipped his jeans and freed his lengthy cock.

"Then prove it," he said, prompting you and, with your hands still shaking, you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard shaft. 

Cillian's hands roamed your body, gently but forcefully, leaving no doubt that this was a sexually charged encounter. His large hands gripped your waist as he directed your own hand, guiding you to stroke his cock rhythmically.

You could feel his cock growing harder and thicker with every pump of your delicate hand.

"Good girl. Now get down on your knees," Cillian ordered you and you complied, hesitantly kneeling before him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of fear and guilt.

Feeling nauseous, you took a deep breath and stared at Cillian's cock which was already fully erect, dripping with pre-cum.

"Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue," Cillian demanded, his voice commanding and unyielding.

Reluctantly, you obeyed and stuck out your tongue, completely humiliated and submissive. Cillian smeared his pre-cum on your tongue with his finger, making you shudder with disgust.

"Hmm , good girl," he said, before he pushed his cock into your mouth, filling your mouth and throat, causing you to gag instantly. You tried to pull away, but Cillian gripped your hair tightly, preventing any escape.

"No, no, no. You're going to make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep sucking it like a good little girl," Cillian moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your throat. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat and the taste of his pre-cum was nauseating and arousing at the same time while Cillian's grip on your hair kept you from pulling away.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and trickled down your neck as you tried to take slow, shallow breaths. You could feel yourself starting to gag on his cock, but Cillian's hold on your hair tightened, and he kept pushing further down your throat.

"That's it. Keep sucking. That's it. Swallow it all, baby," he whispered lewdly as he grabbed your head, pulling you down onto his cock more roughly.

You gagged again, your throat constricting around his thick shaft. Cillian, sensing your discomfort, slowed down, pumping in and out of your mouth more leisurely, giving you time to adjust.

As he continued, his movements became faster, his guts churning in anticipation of orgasm. 

" Fuck, you're getting better at this," he grunted, his tone strained with pleasure. You could feel his balls tighten, signalling that he was close to releasing.

"You are going to swallow every drop of my cum, aren't you Y/N?" Cillian asked, clearly enjoying the dominance he was exerting on you and the thought of swallowing his seed made you feel sick.  But you knew it was the price you had to pay if you wanted to keep your job so you nodded, meekly and obediently.

"Good girl," Cillian cooed as he began to thrust his hips more frantically, pumping in and out of your mouth. Before long, he let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he erupted inside of your mouth.

You could taste his bitter semen on your tongue, feeling it slide down your throat. You tried to swallow it as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger on the taste and texture.

Cillian finally pulled out of your mouth, a sated grin on his face. He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up before sitting back down in his chair. "That was good," he said simply, leaving you kneeling on his floor with tears streaming down your face. "You can get up now," he added, not even bothering to apologize for what he had just done.

You slowly got to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The taste  of Cillian's semen was still lingering on your tongue, making you feel even more disgusted with yourself.

"I need to go," you murmured quietly, your voice hoarse from the recent forced oral.

Cillian just nodded, a smug grin on his face. "Sure thing, but I want to see you again tonight, just before you see your fiancé," he said, not even bothering to look at you as you made your way to the door.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of shame and anger as you stepped out of his trailer, the door slamming shut behind you.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

[theawkwardanglophile]

What are your top 5 Chenford scenes ever?

Ummm, Sarah, this is just cruel! 😂 This was so difficult making a list and then taking so many amazing scenes back off the list to narrow it down. But it was fun, too! I will probably change my mind on these later on, but for now, this is where we're at, in chronological order:

1) Outside Nevin's, erm, Right Start Bakery (2x13): This remains a longstanding fave. Tim turned down a promotion to finish training Lucy. The whole scene has such a flirtatious vibe to it, with those smiles they can't keep off their faces. This scene gave me so many questions, like what did they do next? Did Tim drive her there? So much so I ended up having to write a fic about this scene a few years ago.

2) At the hospice (4x09): Honestly, it came down between this one and the hospital hug in 6x04, but this is just such a foundational moment for Tim and Lucy. It's the most vulnerable we've ever seen him up to that point. He lets all his walls down in front of Lucy, rather than Genny, or, I don't know, his girlfriend? And their hug is so beautiful. This really cemented how much Tim and Lucy were becoming each other's person.

3) Their FIRST DANCE (4x18): This is just pure joy, the happiest we'd ever seen Tim, at least until he started actually dating Lucy. There is so much that isn't said verbally in this scene, so much their movements and expressions convey. Like, did they know they were still dating other people? Chris? Ashley? I don't know them. 😂

4) Their FIRST KISS (4x22): GEEZ, this scene is so, so good. It's so perfectly them. Banter, awkwardness, romance, friendship, and their blindsided reactions after the kiss. How "I opened the door for you" became reality in the next episode?! That kiss gave me so many butterflies. And Tim's "Oh, I don't have anything" as he's leaving will never not be funny to me!

5) Quality Sexy Time (5x12): Really I could list just about any scene from this episode on here, but the last scene at Lucy's...asdklfsahlkasdf! Tim's "you and I will get to see each other every day" gets me every time. The man who wanted a "personal life free zone" in the shop now can't get enough of her. Lucy being so concerned about Tim being miserable in his new job because she knows him so well. Lucy's insane amount of candles. Tim's little "I know" is honestly one of the hottest things ever. I can't explain it, it just is. And then everything else that follows is incredible. It turns out they are good at other things as well. 😏

Thank you for the ask, my friend! ☺️☺️

#chenford #the rookie #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #my asks #asked and answered

[sonicjustbecause]

Shadow according to his original creator - Maekawa (far different from the Shadow we got in the meta era - Lance, who was written with him, is one of the few enjoyable version of Shadow)...

And Sonic...

That one is one of my favourite scenes... Shadow being mischievous. He felt so natural there...

I had some issues with the 'subtle' word because is a false friend. In general I don't trust words that sound to similar to certain Italian words, so I always double cheeck. And indeed...

Subtle - English to Italian

All adjective that suit Shadow... the early one at least. The original Shadow was as strong outside (and phisically), as fragile mentally though he was good at hiding it. Once his weak spot was found (his insecurities toward his identity, his past), he could be hurt badly.

A mentally hurt Shadow...

This is certainly not the Shadow that say 'Damn' (or 'F**k') all the time. I guess that the early Shadow, as somebody who was born in the '50's, was probably not fond in cussing words.

Maekawa also had an idea about Shadow's fate...

Shadow the Hedgehog (2005) had elements of the original Shadow, but the edgelord Shadow was starting to emerge, sometimes he was dominant...

Now about Sonic... Maekawa didn't like how Sega wanted him to be...

Let's go...

The one Maekawa disliked... sometimes he was close to be like Shadow, except the melancholy. I'm still convinced those two were supposed to be twins...

Honestly I like Maekawa's Sonic far more than the original Sonic...

(art from this reddit post) https://www.reddit.com/r/SonicTheHedgehog/comments/14psfwd/the_change_in_writing_of_sonic_the_hedgehogs/

OT.

For the false friend similar written Italian word, here's the meaning...

Adjective that suit Rouge (mancino normally is used for left handed but in this context it has nothing to do with the hand you favour and is a bit aracaic).

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic #shadow #eggman #sth #shiro maekawa

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Racoon and Swan

Summary: The first time Momo sees Midoriya Izumi, it's the first day of school and the other girl is slurping a jelly pouch with a deadpan stare. A few minutes later she fights off an old bully.

Honestly, Momo would say that falling in love hadn't been as surprising as she originally thought.

ON AO3

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 The entire class was introduced to their teacher’s protege on the first day of class. She was a tall and lean green-haired teenager around their age, dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a loose jacket over a hoodie for a punk band, the hoodie going to her knees as she slouched as she wandered over to them, a jelly pouch between her lips as she slurped obnoxiously.

 “Hey, Aizawa,” the girl said, removing the pouch from her lips as she pushed her green curly hair out of her face, revealing the heavy dark eyeshadow around her eyes and piercings in her eyebrow and nose. “All Might wants to have his secretary keep an eye on this for his records for his teaching tomorrow. That chill?”

 “All Might!?” The squeal from most of the crowd was lost in Bakugou Katsuki's roar of ‘DEKU! ' The girl turned to look at him blankly.

 “That's Midoriya to you, Bakugou,” she told the blond. “I'm here as Aizawa’s protege. I'm not a teacher, but-”

 “What?!?” the boy roared and lunged, only for Midoriya to move. She threw the jelly pouch at his face while pulling out some pellets from her jacket pocket she threw that caused foam to begin expanding. The foam stopped the blasts Bakugou had begun making from his hands as his head jerked back from the pouch. He stumbled a few steps backwards as the Midoriya used a long stretch of fabric that erupted from under her loose sleeves to wrap around him.

 “Strike one,” Aizawa said, watching the incident closely. “Midoriya, here is my personal student. She's graduated from high school already and is very skilled. She may not be a teacher, but her word is to be followed, and she is to be respected.”

 “She's a Quirkless freak!” Bakugou screamed.

 “And? Japan hasn't had a Quirkless hero yet, but that hasn't stopped England, Canada, France, Taiwan and many more from having them.” Aizawa said calmly. “Now, you have two more strikes before I move you to Class 1C and give you a chance at trying to get back into the hero course.” He looked at the other stunned students, staring at the scene wide-eyed. “If any of you slack in this assessment, you'll be moving to the class too.”

 “HUH?!” that derailed the class from focusing on Midoriya. Except for one person.

 Yaoyorozu Momo felt her cheeks flush as the other girl removed the bindings from Bakugou, slouching once more.

 That had been fairly attractive.

(Izumi hadn’t seen Bakugou since she was twelve and had been saved from her father by Dabi, who’d come across the fire-breathing man threatening his ‘useless child’ with his Quirk. Dabi was not a good man, and Izumi would be genuinely foolish to think of him as a hero, but he had interfered. It caught the attention of a new hero called Hawks.

 Izumi honestly felt the whole thing felt like fanfiction, one of the self-inserts she read quietly at night, pretending she could be saved by a hero. And she was. More so when it turned out she had an uncle who was a hero, who took custody with his partner when she needed help.

 She was achieving her dreams, and she hadn’t seen one of the boogeymen from her childhood in years. Seeing Bakugou again was harder since he hadn’t changed. He still looked at her with contempt, a sneer on his face as he tried to attack her. He still hated her.

 She pretended it didn’t hurt. She had become someone else, and it shouldn’t matter. But it did.)

-0-

 Momo knew she liked women for a long time. There was no shame in that; frankly, no one cared anymore when your neighbour could breathe fire. Momo’s mother had cared, but the divorce her dad initiated when the woman tried to cut their daughter’s carb intake had her out of the girl’s life.

 However, Momo did… honestly she questioned her taste.

 “Trash Panda.” Midoriya was telling the class, face completely serious. “That’s my hero-”

 “No.” Aizawa sighed loudly.

 “Yes, it is.”

 “No, it isn't.”

 “It is. Midnight, let me.”

 “No.”

 “Too bad, Uncle Sho. I’m Trash Panda.” Midoriya grinned widely as the class laughed. Her grin was a bit terrifying, but she was related to Aizawa, whose wide smile when he moved Mineta to class 1C terrified the class.

 (Momo had been stunned and unsure. She thought it a ruse, the threat to move them to a different class if they failed to meet Aizawa’s standards. She felt nervous upon learning it had been the truth, her mother's sharp voice hissing about perfection and always being right in her ear.)

 “Now,” Midoriya turned back to them, the word coming out slightly strangely. She paused and swallowed before continuing. A speech impediment? It sounded a little like she had slurred her words, only slightly, though. The nasty snort from Bakugou had Momo side-eyeing him. How rude to make fun of someone like that. “I’m not going to be directly involved in teaching, and I'm not an assistant. I'll occasionally be around and spar with you, but I'm not in your class.”

 “Young Izumi here is very skilled!” said Yagi Toshinori, All Might’s secretary. He was a tall, thin man with a chronic cough, but he provided deep insight into their performances after gaining permission from Aizawa. Momo herself had been told she did perfectly, though he did mention she possibly would want to learn how to create things by instinct. That had been something interesting to think about and something she was glad that UA had thought of.

 Momo looked at Midoriya, who’d flushed, the girl rubbing the back of her neck. Her freckles stood out more this way as she looked at Yagi bashfully.

 “Thanks, sir,” she said, her words slightly more slurred. She paused again and looked down. Ah, so she had to focus on making her voice clear, and she was upset, so she kept slipping up. Momo felt for the other teen.

 “Any questions?” Aizawa asked the class.

 “Yeah,” Bakugou began rudely. “Is Deku being your niece why you took her on?” he asked with a nasty glare at the girl.

 “Yes and no. Keep that slur out of your mouth, or it’ll be expelled and not just demoted,” Aizawa threatened. Bakugou snarled, glaring at the ground as the gravity girl (Uraraka Momo thought) took a noticeable step away, looking at him with disgust. “There are no laws against a Quirkless hero, and the Commission supports us; however, UA’s board refused to allow Midoriya in as a hero student. As such, she chose to graduate early to work as my protege. Her being my niece made it easier. As well, as we have four different legacy students in this class you could pose them similar questions as I assume you are trying to claim nepotism as I am her mentor.” Aizawa looked at the boy with engines, Iida. “You will work as a sidekick under your brother, correct?”

 “During the first round, yes,” Iida said, eyeing the blonde boy. Bakugou crossed his arms.

 “My old man would want me to,” Todoroki said, his gaze resting on Bakugou without a word.

 “I have a position as soon as I graduate,” Ashido said, grinning widely. “Mom’s underground, but I plan on being an All Rounder.”

 “I won’t, but that’s because my Quirk is not like my uncle’s,” Monoma said casually with a hand wave.

 Momo made a note of the legacies; she was quite curious now after learning about them all. She knew two of their parents but wondered who the other two were related to.

 They were dismissed soon after, and Momo looked back to see Midoriya talking to both Aizawa and Yagi. Perhaps about the next few days.

 (“You did well, Izumi.” Shouta told his niece, giving her one of his rare genuine smiles.

 “I’m still annoyed I slurred that much.” Izumi sighed, shaking her head. She’d stopped caring when the other teens left, though she tried to sound clear still.

 “Other than Bakugou, I doubt any cared,” said Toshinori, his voice a bit hard.

 “We said we wouldn’t hold our past against him,” Izumi told her other mentor. She hadn’t taken One for All, wanting to be the first Quirkless hero no matter what. Instead, the baton was passed to Tenya, her best friend, who, at first, nearly self-destructed with the pressure, but his brother had stepped in to help.

 Toshinori had to be scolded, but he got much better at teaching afterward. Izumi liked learning from him, though he was Tenya’s mentor most of all. She just got help learning the All Rounder skills that Shouta was lacking.

 “Who put him in my class?” Shouta wondered. “Nezu knows of your history.”

 “The board,” Nezu’s voice came from the comms all three wore, which connected them to the other staff members.

 “Of course.”)

-0-

 The next day, at UA, they were given their costumes, which were all different from what they’d originally wanted.

 “It’s a new policy rolled out this year,” Aizawa said as he stood with All Might (which had caused plenty of squeals) and Midoriya. She was wearing her baggy pants, hoodie and jacket combination once more. Obviously, it was her hero costume, though Momo didn’t know why she chose it. “Normally, we give you what you want and then watch as you figure out how it went wrong instead.” Aizawa looked at Midoriya, who slurped obnoxiously on the jelly pouch she’d pulled out after what seemed to be an argument about her lack of lunch. “However, it was pointed out how many students continue to make the same mistakes even after becoming true sidekicks, so instead, we have changed your uniforms and left a list of why we did it.”

 Momo’s costume had been changed from the original style the designer gave her when she’d spoken with one: a pair of shorts and a crop top that let her stomach and back open. Along with it was a wrist computer so she could look things up and a visor connected to it with a voice-activated prompt. The notes said her original costume was too revealing, and the heels were impractical. The combat boots were much nicer. The image Momo got was that from the old ‘Tomb Raider’ games that had been remastered recently. They were pretty fun.

 “I liked my costume idea,” Kaminari whined. “If it’s to streetwear, what about Midoriya’s?” he asked. Momo looked at his costume. It still was more streetwear than not, with loose black pants, a white shirt and a jacket over it. It was only that his coat was covered in lightning bolts, making it slightly obnoxious.

 “This is my incognito costume,” Midoriya said, taking the jelly pouch out of her mouth. “I have a more in-your-face one, but this will be my lesser-known one. I aim to function in underground and limelight spheres like All Might.”

 “All Might’s limelight, Midoriya,” Bakugou said in a sneer.

 “HA! Actually, I do both,” agreed All Might, smiling at them. “You just don’t hear about my more covert operations due to the secrecy. I also do dress down.” He grinned at the class. “I am very good at disguise.”

 “What routes you all will go through is the discussion for today, with us also having a sparring tournament. No Quirks, we want you to go hand to hand and see your range of movement in your costumes.” Aizawa said. “All Might is your main Hero Foundations teacher, but I am here to talk about it as one of the main underground heroes in Mustapha.”

 The class continued through to the lecture first, with the investigation, underground, rescue, capture and combat areas of heroics laid out. All were routes someone could go down, and those who did an investigation, rescue, capture, and combat were called ‘All Rounders.’ The licensing for them (that had been interesting learning there wasn’t simply a single license, and you had to be given proper permits for each route) could occur throughout the year. Undergrounds were different in that they had to take all of the exams on the same day.

 When that was done, the sparring began. As they were missing a member, Midoriya joined in. She removed her jacket, as it was full of weapons she wasn’t allowed to use, and removed her hoodie too, revealing that she wore a tank top with the logo of some band called ‘Deep Dope’ on it, a scarf much like Aizawa’s wrapped around her arms. Jirou, a girl with jacks attached to her ears, perked up.

 The sparring wasn’t bad, though Momo felt off kilter she could not create a sword. Luckily, her opponent, a boy named Tokoyami, who possessed a sentient Quirk, was also having difficulty as he could not seek help from his companion. The companion, Dark Shadow, decided to manifest and trash-talk them both.

 She managed to defeat Tokoyami and moved on to her next match against a girl named Ashido. That was trickier, as the girl was very flexible and had dance training, but Momo managed, just as Bakugou screamed,

 “That’s BULLSHIT!”

 “You lost Bakugou. Ojiro moves on,” said Aizawa, making the blonde boy sit down. Momo rolled her eyes as she sat down for a break. That boy seemed to be the type who could not accept he could fail.

 She watched the next fight, realizing Midoriya would be fighting Todoroki. They were going with five pairs fighting at a time, and Momo was on the opposite set from the other girl. It was nice to watch someone more experienced than her fight.

 (And if Momo’s eyes lingered on Midoriya’s biceps and how her curly hair bounced as she dodged the dual-haired boy... That was her business.)

 Midoriya was good. It didn't look as polished as Ojiro’s style; it was more of a brawler style, as she used her legs and fists. She'd had to stop halfway through her first fight to remove some metal bad from her shins, apologizing she forgot about it.

 “We aren't using weapons, and those count,” she had told her opponent, Jirou. The two stood to the side afterward and discussed music. From what Momo had overheard, Midoriya was a fan of the same bands as Jirou.

  Momo watched as Midoriya ducked under a punch from Todoroki before grabbing his arm and performing a flip that had him on the ground. She knelt on his back, his arm in a pin. The boy looked stunned, lying there.

 “Winner Midoriya!” All Might boomed when Todoroki just lay there. The green-haired girl frowned at the boy beneath her and said something as Bakugou growled loudly.

 Momo did not know what to think about that boy. He seemed so angry, and how he acted with Midoriya was… concerning. She focused, though, on the criticism of Todoroki and Midoriya. Mostly, it was because Todoroki hadn't taken advantage of several openings that the girl had left open. (Ones she said she did on purpose because she realized he had a depth perception issue, which Todoroki was shocked she’d noticed.)

 The rest of the sparring tournament didn't draw Momo’s attention as much until the end, though she was knocked out in the next round as she went up against Ojiro. He was well trained, so Momo didn't feel too bad as she sat out. She watched the rest of the bouts, though she did get distracted by Midoriya again. This time, the girl was signing to Kouda (a rocky-headed boy), who seemed delighted.

  Skilled, and she knew sign? The girl was… fascinating.

 More so when she and Ojiro battled it out for the winner, the girl losing only by a throw that landed her outside the ring.

 Momo sighed a bit dreamily. That was really attractive.

 (Izumi was about ninety percent sure Todoroki had a hang-up about hitting girls or that he had some ego problem. He went into their fight way too confident and had barely tried. He seemed too scared to hit her. Why?

 She'd talk to Shouta about it. Or Hizashi. Zizi tended to know how to handle that sort of stuff with their own multiple hang-ups from the shit fire that had been their childhood.)

-0-

 Momo had to drink water the next day to stop herself from reacting to Midoriya, who showed up in her limelight hero costume. It was a crop top that showed off her abs under a leather jacket with the name ‘Trash Panda’ on the back in spikes, covered in pins. Her pants were tight and red checkered, leading into big black boots.

 Her make-up was still heavy around the eyes, and she had dark black lips curved into a grin, her hands (in fingerless gloves, and Momo hadn't realized she’d like that) on her hips.

 “Hello, fellow youths!” she said perkily. It was a bit of a whiplash from her more grumpy persona the last few days.

 “Don't,” Aizawa said, completely exhausted sounding.

 “Don’t what, my dear uncle?” Midoriya asked, popping a hip.

 “Don’t.” their teacher said. Midoriya just laughed.

 The sudden mood shift from the girl was confusing, but the class adjusted to it. She also ended up eating in the cafeteria with them.

 “Uncle Sho refuses to put up with me when I'm like this,” she told Uraraka, who asked. Momo, Iida, Uraraka, and Jirou had been sitting together, and Midoriya joined them swiftly.

 “Because you’re a menace,” Iida said.

 “Tenya! My cousin! My brother! How could you besmirch-” Midoriya said dramatically, pausing when her last word came out slurred. She continued, though, her smile remaining on her face. Iida looked sad as he gazed at her. Momo didn't bring it up; instead, she cautiously asked about her outfit.

 “It’s a persona. You’ll learn about them later in the year, but heroes act a certain way in public. I have two- underground and limelight. When I'm underground, I'm more of a random civilian. When I'm limelight…” Midoriya grinned and waved her hands towards herself.

 “She takes cues from Midnight,” Iida said.

 “You two know each other well? I mean, she called you cousin,” Uraraka asked.

 “My uncle, Aizawa, is friends with Tenya’s brother. When I started living with Uncle Sho, Tenya was the only kid my age who wasn't put off by the fact that I was mostly stuck with sign language.” Midoriya said. No one asked, but Midoriya seemed to guess what they wanted to know. “I wasn't as good at dealing with my dysarthria back then.”

 “Your what?” Uraraka asked.

 “My slurred speech,” Midoriya said. She shifted. “I don't like talking about it.”

 “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Iida told her.

 “Yeah. My mom has a stutter, and it doesn't make her less badass,” Jiro said.

 “I still don't like it,” Midoriya said. She bit into her katsudon and then pointedly changed the conversation to discussing that they'd choose their class president the next day. “Uncle Sho will announce it tonight and ask anyone who wants to be part of that to make a bit of a speech. He will also lay out exactly how Hero Schools handle it.”

 “Is it different?” Momo asked.

 “Heroes have to be prepared for anything. A class president is assumed to be the de facto head of the ‘agency’ and treated as such. You have to know all the schedules of your classmates, allergies, contact info, and anything important. You have limited access to the files as well. Mostly just the very bare basics and a note of people banned from interacting with them,” Midoriya said.

 (Momo did not react, thinking of her mother. The woman wasn't allowed to contact her, but emails often came. It… she should report them. But it was her mother. How could she not want to keep speaking to her?)

 “Wow, I didn't know that,” Uraraka said.

 “There are meetings weekly; you have to write progress reports—it's a big job. He’ll discourage anyone who isn't willing to put in the time and possibly outright sabotage those who shouldn't try Tenya.”

 “I have a handle on it,” Iida said.

 “You went through a Quirk evolution two months ago, and I know you broke your arm after school yesterday because of it,” Midoriya told the boy. Iida frowned but nodded.

 “You’re correct. I should focus on controlling my evolution first. Perhaps Vice President or Secretary would be better for me,” he decided.

 “Aren’t Quirk Evolutions rare?” Jirou asked. Momo was reasonably sure they were but not that uncommon.

 “We think I may have something similar to my engines throughout my body, a sort of fake machinery that makes me stronger,” Iida said, his eyes on his food.

 “He destroyed the zero-pointer with one punch!” Uraraka said, impressing the table. Then, Kaminari, one of their classmates, came up.

 “Hey, can I sit here?” he asked. “I just wanted to ask about your music after seeing your tank yesterday, but I was more focused on sparring.”

 “Oh, sure. Do you like Deep Dope?” Midoriya asked Kaminari. He nodded and sat down, an easy smile on his face. The rest of lunch was spent discussing music, and Momo walked away with a lot of recommendations she never thought of. It was very nice.

(Izumi was hopeful she was making friends. There was a strange relationship between her and the students. She was not in charge of them, but there was a level of authority over them. It was a delicate balance.

 Still, she knew she needed more friends her age. Uncle Sho, Zizi Zashi, Uncle Tensei and Auntie Nemuri were great, but they weren’t her age. Tenya was her best friend but even he wasn’t that much of a normal kid. She had Keigo too, but he was an adult. She had Dabi, but the weirdo was also an adult. Z was perhaps closer, being Quirkless like Izumi so the woman was always willing to help out with training. Yet even then they were a bit adrift, mostly due to Z’s stance as a mercenary. No one ever quite knew if she was on their side or the side of whoever paid her lately.

 She knew she needed friends her age. Maybe she was making them.)

-0-

  The rest of the week was normal, other than the press breaking in. Momo had become class president, and Iida was vice president, with Tokoyami taking the secretary position. Midorous spent time with the class and with the teachers, though class 2C already knew her.

 “They all were demoted from heroics by Uncle Sho,” Midoriya said when asked. “He demoted them all after the first week because half were idiots, some were just lazy, and a few were Quirkist as hell.”

 “And they remained demoted?” Momo asked.

 “Yeah. I mean… you know how many kids wash out of heroics, right? It's hard. You don't just go to school and learn it; it's a career and a lifestyle. Working out daily, eating right, and keeping on top of the laws. You break your body daily to be better. Not everyone can make it. Class C is traditionally the waitlisted kids who get extra classes compared to class D, so they can be slotted in when someone can't handle being in heroics. And it will happen- I think the rate is like 65% of students who start in heroics don't stay,” Midoriya obviously was very opinionated by the topic, as she was speaking very enthusiastically. Her voice had started to slur, and she tripped over some words, but they could understand her.

 No one brought it up. Jirou had opened her mouth, but Kaminari and Iida shook their heads at her, getting her not to voice any thoughts.

 “So anyways, the class was bad. And he shoved them into 1C but even THEY weren't all that great. So he didn't have a class last year, but they all know me. And hate me,” Midoriya shrugged. “Cause I'm the Quirkless brat who is being trained, and they aren't.”

 “Assholes,” Kaminari decided.

 “Not wrong,” Midoriya said. “Two of them even got arrested. Turns out they had a few people hiding their pasts dreaming about them becoming big-time heroes. When they got demoted the first week, people stopped.”

 “That's messed up,” Uraraka said as Momo stared in astonishment. That happened? She always thought it was fake. How could people do that?

 “It's not uncommon,” Kaminari said. “I actually got a lot of leeway in middle school since I wanted to go into heroics, and my Quirk is perfect. My parents, though, did not let me get away with anything, which, thank god. I'd be more insufferable if I had.”

 “I mean, I know a lot of people get a lot of privileges, and when that happens, it's just messed up,” Uraraka said.

 “I never heard of that, other than people claiming it happens,” Momo admitted.

 “You went to a private school like Iida, right?” Midoriya asked, and Momo nodded. “A rich private school wouldn't be obvious about it. Also all of you would be technically in the same class level? Like rich, connected, that sort of thing.”

 “So we do not see it as we receive the same privilege,” Iida said.

 Momo didn't know what to think. Was she that privileged that she did not see such a disgusting form of favouritism? Was she that blind to the truth of why her teachers had praised her most?

 Was she actually intelligent, or did they fake her grades? Did she deserve the praise? Was she as good as she thought?

 Was Mother right? Was Momo nothing?

(Izumi was worried about Yaoyorozu. The girl had all the marks of being a good hero if she overcame her desperate need for perfection. However, after the conversation about privilege, the brunette had been withdrawn and pale.

 Did she worry for herself? There wasn't a reason to do so; the girl was brilliant. Nezu was already arguing with Uncle Sho about training her, and Keigo had heard Izumi talk about the girl and expressed interest in her Quirk, too.

 Yet, well, Izumi understood the concerns that could happen when you became aware of a truth that you'd been oblivious to. Or when you were confronted with something you didn't want to see. How long had it taken for her to admit Bakugou wasn't a good person? For her to articulate how her mother (who loved her and had protected her as best she could) sometimes made Izumi feel weak.

 Izumi decided that after the USJ, she would reassure Yaoyorozu more. Maybe invite her to the cafe Izumi and Tenya liked to frequent. It would be a nice rest from the exercises that Thirteen would have the class do.)

-0-

 Momo was running for her life. It had started as a typical day, going to the USJ on a field trip. Midoriya was wearing her ‘underground’ costume and talking with Aizawa about things while Yagi hung around, too. All Might wouldn't be able to make it until later, but his secretary was skilled in heroics too, they'd been told.

 They got to the USJ; it started with a lecture, then…

 “We are the League of Villains.”

 They were separated and scattered around the facility, and it was Bakugou’s fault, along with Kirishima and-

 Momo dodged a blast from a villain, eyes wide, as she spotted Kaminari and Jiro facing four villains. Both were fighting—she had to-

 Smoke bombs soared out of the air, obscuring the view before it dissipated to reveal Midoriya. She’d landed on the biggest villain and was on his shoulders, yanking him back as she shoved something into his mouth.

 Whatever it was made the mad sway, and Midoriya jumped off, arms out, and the scarf under her jacket sleeves coming out to wrap around more villains. The teen yanked them so hard they flew off their feet to smash to the ground as Midoriya landed. She kicked out, and her shin hit the fourth in the side, making him wheeze as she took something from her pocket and threw it into his mouth.

 It took barely thirty seconds.

 “Holy fuck, that was hot,” Kaminari said. Midoriya snorted.

 “Sorry, I'm gay. But we need to move,” she ordered, and they were off.

 Momo tried not to think of what Midoriya said, but it played in her mind as they were attacked several more times. She helped as much as possible and took out her fair share of villains, but Midoriya? She was stunning. The girl moved fast and had various things hidden in her jacket. Smoke bombs, foam pellets she threw at a few fire Quirk users, and knives.

 A lot of knives.

 Midoriya threw them or used them to cut through an obstacle created by a Quirk before she dodged and weaved around someone trying to grab her.

 Then, they got to the middle of the USJ. Aizawa was on the ground, and the man with his hands on him was rushing towards Monoma, Uraraka, and Asui, who were trying to hide behind a rock.

 Momo didn't even see Midoriya move before knives were sticking out of an enormous villain holding Aizawa down, and the other girl was flying through the air to kick the hand villain off course. The big villain moved at her, only for All Might to intercept. He had a cut on his head already, and Momo wondered what could have hurt him like that.

 “Fuck you!” Midoriya was screaming; the words slurred and jumbled as she kicked the hand villain in the face. He fell back, and she lunged again, her leg coming up. The other villain, the mist one, began moving only for Todoroki and Bakugou to take care of him.

 It meant Momo got to watch as Midoriya began beating the hand villain. Her rage made her seem to glow as she aimed a kick at the villain again, who grabbed her leg. She pulled it back just as her pants started disintegrating.

 “Five-point activation,” Momo said out loud to herself, and Midoriya seemed to realize it, too. A knife appeared in her hand, and the green-haired girl dove for the villain, who roared in anger.

 Momo could not tear her eyes away as Midoriya dodged and weaved, the knife flashing in the air as she stabbed and slashed and-

 Three fingers fell to the ground as the villain yelled in pain. Midoriya’s grin could be seen from their distance, teeth bared, eyes wild, and a little blood on her cheek as she’d dived under a grasping hand to cut the fingers off.

 “That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Momo said out loud. She ignored the two people giving her judgemental looks, Kaminari not getting it either as Momo stared, besotted, with the image.

 Midoriya was divine.

(She wouldn't let her uncle die. Izumi could not let him die. She wouldn't lose him. She wouldn't lose the first person who'd said she could be a hero. She wouldn't lose the man who wrapped her hand around a knife and taught her how to fight. She wouldn't lose the man who sat through countless speech therapy sessions with her and never judged.

 This villain was a threat. Izumi could deal with threats.

 Take out the Quirk. Stop him from using it. Break his fingers- no. She needed it to be more reliable. So knife it was.

 The man was screaming, and Izumi grinned with all her teeth as she turned to slam her shin into his side, cautious not to aim for his head with her steel guards. Death? Not a good thing.

 Maiming? Oh yeah, that she could do.

 Uncle Sho taught her dirty fighting, Toshinori taught her how to smile, Keigo taught her how to play it off to make herself look innocent, and Dabi taught her where to hit. Z and Zizi Hizashi also taught her how to cover her tracks, though this wasn't useful when everyone saw her cut the villain’s fingers off.

 Not that she cared. This man had hurt Izumi’s uncle. She would have killed the students that she had begun to see as sort of friends. Uraraka was always at their table, smiling and ready to share a story or talk about anything. Izumi couldn’t let anyone die.

 Not unless it was the villain.

 The man lunged for her again, and Izumi dropped, but he changed at the last second, his intact hand going towards her face-

 A gunshot, and the man stumbled back.

 “The CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED!” Zizi roared, and Izumi grinned, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the villain. He’d failed; they won. They were safe-

 The man began coughing up black gunk, and she ripped herself away as he did so. Always get the hell out of dodge when weird things happen. Quirks were too varied to make an actual guess of what was going on.

 He began to be absorbed by the gunk, though, and Izumi lunged forward, eyes widening when she realized he was escaping, only for Toshinori to grab her. The man had thrown his own villain out of the USJ during the fight.

 “No, Izumi,” he said. She could only watch as the man responsible for the almost death of her uncle vanished.

 It wasn’t fair.)

-0-

 For the days after the USJ, the news played various segments. Only one of which genuinely caught Momo’s eyes. Midoriya, dressed in her crop top and leather jacket costume, was having an interview. The news of what she’d done during the USJ had gotten out, and most people were praising it, saying her taking care of a villainous Quirk was smart.

 “Quirks aren’t villainous,” Midoriya was saying in an interview. Trash Panda- Special Student of UA Teacher Aizawa, Honorary TA, was written under her. “It’s the people using them who are villains. My sperm donor breathed fire and abused me along with my mother for years, leading to the death of my mother. However, no one ever called his Quirk villainous. It matters what you do with your Quirk, not what it is.”

 “That’s your friend Midoriya, correct?” Momo’s dad asked her.

 “She is,” Momo replied, smiling at the screen.

 “I like her,” Mr. Yaoyorozu said with a nod. “She did the right thing, and she is right. Look at your mother. Her Quirk would be called heroic, but she is awful.”

 Mother. Momo had been trying not to think of her, given that the woman had sent an email stating that her child was pathetic for not beating the villains herself. It made Momo feel so small. Mother used the most disgusting slur for Midoriya that, for once, made her delete the email, not keep it.

 Yet her dad bringing the woman up stuck in Momo’s mind as she went to a mall for light shopping. She wanted new books after the USJ. More types of capture gear or things like the pellets Midoriya had used to take down multiple villains would be helpful. Momo could not stop thinking of her mother, though, and how she was compared to what Midoriya was saying and the girl’s words of her own father.

 Momo’s mother was mentally abusive and, in some ways, physically, but that had been mostly restricting her food intake. She was never beaten, never hurt. But how Midoriya said it…

 “Fuck off,” a familiar voice startled Momo from her thoughts. The slur to the word you, making it much longer, had her looking to see Midoriya dressed in a flannel shirt open over a band tee, jeans and the regular boots she wore also making an appearance.

 “No, I got tasked with babysitting you, you little shit, so I get to annoy you all I want.” The man Midoriya was with said. He was a thin man, covered in burns he’d used staples to keep his skin on with, dressed in a white shirt under a leather jacket.

 “I want to be at the hospital,” Midoriya said.

 “And Hizashi told me to take you out to the mall so you’d stop freaking out brat.” the man said. Momo hesitated but then approached. Midoriya spotted her first.

 “Yaoyorozu?” she asked, her voice becoming more controlled.

 “Midoriya, apologies. I saw you and wanted to know how you were doing,” Momo told the girl.

 “She’s acting like a fucking weirdo who won’t leave the hospital.” the man said.

 “Shut up, Dabi, take your meds. I know you didn’t,” Midoriya threatened. He glared at her, annoyed.

 “Fuck off brat. Let’s go to the food court,” he said grumpily.

 “Fine. Do you want to come?” Midoriya asked Momo, who nodded. Dabi led the way, the girls trailing behind. “Are you doing well?” Midoriya asked.

 “I am. My Dad has insisted on me going to therapy for a few extra sessions,” Momo said.

 “Smart. Zizi insisted on it too for me,” Midoriya agreed.

 “Zizi?” Momo asked. Midoriya paused and sighed as Dabi laughed mockingly.

 “You did not hear this from me, but Uncle Sho is married. His partner is non-binary. I call them Zizi,” Midoriya explained.

 “Oh!” Momo blinked and nodded. “I see. He hides it to protect them?”

 “They’re both heroes, but he hides it because it’s a weakness. Few married heroes talk about it, and most keep a sharp divide in their lives. Endeavour-” Midoriya paused to let Dabi let out a sharp snort before she continued, “is the exception, though sometimes lower-ranked heroes may be open about their marriages to other heroes.”

 “I see,” Momo said. “I had not considered how having a public relationship could be a weakness,” she admitted, embarrassed.

 “Most don’t. It’s not talked about until second year, I think, when hero students start getting more attention,” Midoriya said.

 “Well, I am glad you have support,” Momo told Midoriya. “I was worried. You…” she hesitated.

 “Went feral at the USJ?” Dabi interjected.

 “No, you were upset. I was worried, and your uncle was hurt,” Momo quickly assured Midoriya who didn’t seem offended, simply flipping off Dabi before turning to Momo.

 “I did go feral. I was angry and scared,” Midoriya admitted. “Uncle Sho is important to me. He’s part of the reason I got away from my biological father.”

 Right, the interview. Momo hesitated, but Midoriya shook her head.

 “Don’t worry, I’m… open about it. Therapy plus trying to combat the fact he would never want me to talk about it.” Midoriya told her. “It sucks, and I have a lot of trauma, but I can’t let it hold me back. Right, Dabi?” she emphasized the man’s name. He responded by holding up his middle finger. Midoriya laughed, shaking her head.

 “Who is he?” Momo had to ask, keeping her voice a little low.

 “Dabi. He’s the guy who found my dad trying to hurt me and reacted. He’s got a lot of issues himself, but he’s doing better with medication and therapy.” Midoriya said just as quiet. “He works at a convenience store, the one near the Tatooine Station.”

 “The…” Momo paused, not wanting to say how run down that area was.

 “The front? Yeah. Not sure for who, but Dabi gets a lot of info working there, and as long as he balances things, he can work as an info broker,” Midoriya said, grinning. “Welcome to heroics, where you toe the line and hope you don’t trip.”

 Fascinating. Momo wanted to know more.

(Yaoyorozu hadn’t been offended by Izumi’s actions. It made her sigh in relief. After the USJ, maiming someone, and the interviews, Izumi worried the class would avoid her. Tenya wouldn’t, but the others? Izumi didn't know. But at least one still cared.

 Spending the day at the mall was excellent, even with Dabi. He decided since she liked to annoy him, he’d annoy her back. Izumi rolled her eyes at him when he teased her for having a girlfriend.

 Yaoyorozu was attractive, both in mind and body. And her Quirk? Izumi wanted to know everything about it. She wanted to sit for hours and talk about it with Yaoyorozu, wanting to know everything about her.

 Oh. OH.

 Izumi felt her cheeks warm. A crush on her friend? She’d have to be careful. Ruining her friendship wouldn’t be fun, and with her strange status in the school, there could be concerns there.

 Still, the memory of Yaoyorozu’s smile and wave when they parted ways stuck to Izumi as she went back to the hospital to watch over her uncle.)

-0-

  “Oi! Deku!” snarled Bakugou first thing the day they all got back when Midoriya entered with a frown.

 “Bakugou, I am not above reporting you continuing to call me about that,” Midoriya said. Bakugou bared his teeth, and Momo saw many people preparing to intervene. Bakugou’s dislike of Midoriya was well known, with everyone defending the girl. She didn’t deserve the boy tormenting her. Not that she needed help, she could handle herself.

 “Fine, Midoriya,” Bakugou sneered. “You were the one to get me in trouble!”

 “...What?” Midoriya asked, staring at him in confusion. “I’ve been with Uncle Sho for the last few days other than when they made me go to the mall. I haven’t done anything.”

 “They fucking told me off for trying to take down the mist fucker!” Bakugou screamed.

 “Hey, hey- Baku-bro,” Kirishima said, and the class did a double take. “I got the same scolding. We messed up; Thirteen could have taken the villain out if we-”

 “FUCK THAT!” Bakugou yelled. “Midoriya here has always been-”

 “Is this about us being kids and you falling off a log again?” Midoriya asked. Bakugou paused. “My therapist made me talk about everything, and while you always hated me, your hate only got worse after that.” Midoriya was getting angry, Momo could tell. Her words were becoming choppier, and she dropped some letters, but she could be heard easily. “I was five years old. You fell, and I was worried you would get hurt. But you apparently decided I was loook-innn-” Midoriya stopped, closed her eyes and breathed.

 “Oh yeah, your fucking slur. So damn useless you can’t even speak properly, huh Deku?” Bakugou taunted. Midoriya’s shoulders jerked up as Kirishima grabbed Bakugou’s arm.

 “Not cool, man!” he said as the rest of the class burst into chaos. They were already stressed from the attack, and for someone to lash out against one of their own- particularly the person who helped fight off the main villains, was not a happy experience.

 “She saved our lives, and you act like this?!” Uraraka shouted.

 “Wow, I knew you were a piece of shit but that?!” Kaminari snapped.

 “Hey Baku-bitch, you should shut the fuck up!” Jirou yelled. Aoyama was yelling in French, looking furious with his eyes almost shouting lasers themselves. Ashido was glaring at Bakugou, and Kouda had a very dark look on his face. Momo herself felt the schematics for a metal bat appearing in her mind, about to make it when the door slammed open.

 “That is enough,” All Might said from the door, sounding furious. “Another strike Bakugou. That is not the behaviour of a hero, insulting someone’s speech impediment.” Beside him is Aizawa, bandaged up but giving the vibes of a furious parent.

 “Extra lessons with Hound Dog required to continue in the hero course,” Aizawa said in a dark tone. “You will be going to sit through multiple lectures on disabilities and how heroes do not act as ableist monsters to anyone.”

 Bakugou looked stunned as if he could not understand what had happened. Momo rolled her eyes.

 How foolish could you be to say that and not expect anger?

(Izumi had never been defended by her peers. Tenya did not count as he was family. Before, when her slur was worse, everyone made fun of her. Even with her jaw wired shut, a shady doctor having done so as her father knew if a good one did it, his actions would get out; there had been no sympathy. No one cared, only following Bakugou’s actions. He never got punished, never was told no.

 Even when she went to a different school, Uncle Sho took her away from everything no one had tried. Bullying was stamped out, but no one seemed to think she was deserving of protection. And now, an entire room jumped in to protect her.

 She watched as everyone stepped in, saying something. How furious they all were. Leftover tension and nerves had to be the reason behind the outburst or at least the ferocity of it, but everyone had said something. Yaoyorozu had looked enraged herself, about to make something to hit him.

 Izumi took a minute to ‘go to the bathroom’ as Uncle Sho talked to the class about the Sports Festival, putting her face in her hands.

 This felt strange. But she liked it.)

-0-

 After school, the class was confronted with a mob of other students.

 “Whoa, what’s going on?” Kaminari asked.

 “They want to see the survivors of the USJ,” Bakugou said confidently. Most ignored him, and Momo frowned as she looked at the students in front of them.

 “That’s right,” a purple-haired teen said, coming forward. “I’m not impressed.” He sneered at the class, and Momo saw Midoriya’s eyes narrow slightly. “We hear a great deal of those in the hero course, yet I don’t see anything special.” He glared at them, not looking happy. “We gen eds-”

 “Can transfer into the hero course,” Uraraka suddenly said. Momo glanced at the girl who looked at the boy, her face strange. “We know if you came here to try and spook us.”

 “A student was moved to class 1C and so far has not impressed any teacher to move him back,” Midoriya said. “Any other waitlist kids in class C can easily prove themselves during the sports festival.”

 “Other…” the purple boy said before he shook his head. “You all just coast by, acing the entrance exams and having a TA who can help you. Meanwhile, those of us who can’t face the biased test-”

 “Hey Hagakure,” Midoriya said. “You’re just invisible, right?”

 “Yep!” the bubbly teen replied. Midoriya nodded.

 “And, no offence, but you’re…”

 “A noodle? Oh yeah. I’m going to start bulking up,” Hagakure said.

 “How did you pass the test if you’re just invisible?” Midoriya asked.

 “There were power switches on the legs, and I found my way to what looked like a control centre. Turning off the power there counted!” Hagakure chirped. The purple boy looked angry, glaring at Midoriya.

 “So… not as biased as people think,” she said in response to the glare.

 “You think you’re all so great, facing off villains already-” the purple boy began, but Iida spoke up.

 “I was terrified, running for my life as I tried to get back to UA to get the teachers.”

 “I was hiding while facing off against villains who could kill me,” Hagakure admitted.

 “We were fighting for our lives and facing off against people willing to kill us,” Monoma said in a calm tone, his eyes on the purple boy. “It wasn’t a good thing.”

 “Speak for yourselves!” Bakugou barked. “Those small fries were weak!”

 “Not all of us have trained to use our Quirks in a fight or against people,” Momo said. “I’m lucky I have training and that Midoriya was with me.”

 “Yeah,” Kaminari said. “She was badass and took on the head villain! Just BAM out in the middle with All Might taking on the next villain!”

 “Ah yeah, the perf Quirked protege,” Purple said, his voice angry. Obviously, he had been growing angrier as they talked back. “Like you didn’t eagerly jump on the media to put your name out.”

 “If you’re going to use slurs, and yes, perf-Quirked is a slur, use the right one,” Midoriya said in an eerily calm voice, eyes narrowed at the boy. “Null.” She gave a shark-like grin. “I’m Quirkless, something Googleable if you want to double-check that.”

 “What,” the boy said, not even a question.

 “I’m Quirkless, I’m also disabled cause my jaw got broken in two places, and it was set a bit wrong,” Midoriya continued, letting her slur show, surprising Momo. More so with her confession. “I have a hard time eating sometimes, and other times, my muscles ache too much. Now, what about you? What’s your Quirk?”

 “...Brainwashing.” the boy said stiffly.

 “Vocal, I assume, you have that minor hum in your voice. Lucky, it means you’d be valuable for heroics. Hell, you probably could have talked down the villains at the USJ,” Midoriya said calmly. “Like Melodee in Paris or the Pied Piper in Germany. But you didn’t get in because you decided to coast along on your Quirk instead of working your hardest.”

 “HEY!” the boy said, glaring. “I’m not like the hero course brats. I don’t just get by with my flashy Quirk and have everyone love me.”

 “We all hate him,” Kaminari said, pointing at Bakugou. “And he’s got the flashiest Quirk besides Todoroki.”

 “HEY!” Bakugou barked, glaring at Kaminari.

 “Stop being a dick, maybe we’ll stop hating you,” Ashido said snidely. “And no, Kirishima, I don’t care about your opinions when you are defending a guy who says the kind of stuff he does and acts the way he does.” Kirishima frowned, looking very upset.

 “He’s not-”

 “Even he’s worked his ass off,” Midoriya interrupted. “I grew up with him, and while our history is complicated, he’s had trainers work him into the ground, and he’s practiced until he gets things right. He doesn’t coast.” Midoriya looked at the boy with hard eyes. “We almost died. The teachers saved me, and yes, I was interviewed as a licensed sidekick. I got more attention because I am a protege, and I was willing to attempt to pull the attention off the students. Some of them may want to go underground, and having me shove my face into the limelight helps. But do not forget, I had a person with a Quirk that if he touched me, I would disintegrate inches away from my face. I saw my mentor broken on the ground. We got LUCKY they did not know our Quirks, and they sent us to stupid locations.”

 “HEY-” a new voice said, and they all looked to see a silver-haired boy. “You 1A bastards shouldn’t forget about us-”

 “1B should know better,” Midoriya said, her voice cold. “I can forgive an angry boy wanting to complain, even if he is a hypocrite. I can’t forgive a 1B student who decided that an entire class being in danger of death was showboating.” Midoriya glared at the other boy, who froze. “I’ll be reporting that to Vlad King and reminding him he’s on probation after people reported his encouragement of rivalry led to seven hospitalizations and three students dropping out.” The boy stepped back. “We almost died, and you treat it like a big fun thing 1A arranged to get ahead. That’s disgusting.”

 “Doesn’t fucking matter!” Bakugou said, pushing through the crowd. “I don’t care what any extras think of us.”

 “I hate how manly that is,” Kirishima said.

 “It’s not manly,” Ashido said, her voice angry. “He’s a bully with delusions of grandeur.”

 “Kirishima,” Midoriya suddenly said. “He actually meant it.” Kirishima shook his head, not listening. Midoriya shrugged and turned back to the crowd. “We almost died. I had to see my mentor, my uncle, broken and bleeding. I jumped in to save students from death, and I had to cut someone’s fingers off because it was that or dying.”

 “It wasn’t fun,” Hagakure said softly. The entire class nodded. The students in front of them winced and looked down, some moving away to let 1A walk out of the hall. The purple teen and the 1B kid stayed, though, looking lost.

 Momo glanced at Midoriya, whose hands were shaking. Was she okay?

(Izumi couldn’t breathe. Her tongue felt heavy, and her jaw ached. Why did she do that? Why did she say that? She saw the crowd, heard them blaming the class, and reacted.

 She knew the purple boy she had spoken to. Sort of. Being allowed in the teacher’s lounge allowed her to learn a lot of gossip. His teacher had words about him. He is skilled and has potential, but he needs to get his head straight and realize he’s in the wrong. That it wasn’t his Quirk holding him back, even if he faced hell for it. It was him.

 But Izumi hadn’t cared about that; she wanted to hurt him. Wanted to shake him and yell that he was in the wrong, that none of them had been looking for fame. It had been survival, and they’d done it.

 Plus, she wanted people to know she was Quirkless. The reporters hadn’t run it, not wanting to draw attention to that. Too afraid of what it would do to their ratings. Hearing Perf-Qurik, seeing a boy so angry at the world, he used slurs while ignoring the fact not everything was black and white… of course, she reacted. Talking about her slur, too, had been a split-second choice. She wanted… she didn’t know what she wanted.

 She only reacted.)

-0-

 Momo found Midoriya at the back of the school, doing some breathing exercises after the incident with the other student. The girl was sitting at a picnic table, and others were around the area as well. Obviously, it was an outside option for the students to eat at. Momo cautiously approached the girl, sitting down next to her when there was no negative reaction.

 “Midoriya, are you alright?” Momo asked.

 “More or less. Just…” Midoriya swallowed, obviously trying to control her voice. “I reacted. She got angry. Revealed a lot.” she shook her head, tired. “Stupid.”

 “Why was it stupid?” Momo asked, curious. “You defended us.”

 “It was stupid because now people KNOW,” Midoriya said. “My stupid slur is known now.”

 “And… that's bad?” Momo asked.

 “You saw how Bakugou was. I faced that f-f-” Midoriya swallowed, obviously upset. “Years,” she said, giving up on using full words.

 “Those people were awful,” Momo said. “Surely UA…” Bakugou came to mind, and she fell silent. She couldn't say UA students wouldn't. Not when one already had.

 “I don't regret defending you guys,” Midoriya said, slightly slurred. She wasn't trying to keep it away fully then. Her shoulders were slumped as she spoke, eyes down though. “But I regret… telling them.”

 “It's understandable,” Momo said softly. “Thank you. For defending us and for the USJ. You were brave.” Beautiful and dangerous to Momo knew, but she wouldn't bring that up just yet. (Maybe not ever.)

 “I wanted to save my Uncle. And survive,” Midoriya said.

 “It was more than what we did. My Mother certainly thought so,” Momo said sadly.

 “You guys don't have the training I do,” Midoriya said with a head shake. “I've fought villains before on patrols with my uncle and the other family members I get assigned to for experience. I knew what to do. You were fantastic for having no training.”

 Momo shook her head, unable to answer. She could have done better. She was the top student and had blown the former record for recommendation students out of the water. Everyone put so much faith in her, and then… she failed.

 “Wait, isn't your mom banned from contact?” Midoriya asked Momo after a moment.

 “… how did…”

 “I may not technically be a teaching assistant, but I do get some of the files just in case.” Midoriya propped her chin on the palm of her hand, leaning her elbow on the table. She looked relieved at the subject change, and Momo was reminded they discussed that before. “How is she contacting you?”

 “Emails,” Momo said. She knew she should have told her dad and said something to an adult, but it was her mother. Even if each email burned and hurt, it was still her.

 “… my father killed my mom and beat me so hard my jaw broke in two places. That's why I have a bit of a slur to my words.” Midoriya said. Momo’s head jerked towards the other girl, staring at her. Midoriya didn't look away. She looked scared but determined, holding the other’s gaze. “He didn't do more because he wanted to auction me off more or less to some rich bitch who would want a Quirkless broodmare. I know that the Hero Commission was bidding; it's why they're very… accommodating about me being Quirkless and my being a protege. I have evidence and will use it.” Midoriya sighed. “Good thing I want kids anyway since I can hold that over their heads of letting them pick the donor. I'm gay, so no penis, please.” She gave a half smile. “But my point is… Mom had left him. She didn't speak to him, she had a restraining order… but he emailed her, and she never stopped him.”

 Momo looked down, her hands gripping each other firmly. Her mother… Her mother wouldn't…

 Her mother wouldn't beat her. Wouldn't kill her.

 But she wasn't safe, was she?

 That night, Momo told her father about the emails. He was upset she had hidden them but understood.

 “Your friend Midoriya is a good one,” he said when Momo explained why she finally told him, omitting the personal details.

 “She is,” Momo agreed, thinking of the half smile. Dark lipstick had been the makeup choice today, and it made her smile seem like a ray of sun coming through the darkness.

 Momo wanted to see it more.

(”I’m giving all my secrets away,” Izumi told Keigo, the two playing video games. The perks of having blackmail meant she could use it to get her friend some time off. He was an adult, so their friendship was strange, but they were friends.

 “Huh?” the winged hero asked, trying to beat her in combat.

 “Yaoyorozu. I told her about Hisashi,” Izumi said, completing a combo move.

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. She’s in a similar boat. I wanted to tell her about him to… warn her. That she should shut down her mother contacting her.” Izumi admitted. Keigo paused the game, earning a taunt he didn't want to lose, though he ignored it to face her.

 “This is the girl Dabi said you were crushing on?”

 “It is not a crush, and Dabi needs to focus on his weird ass romance with that mercenary,” Izumi muttered, mentally adding Keigo to the whole thing. She didn't want to touch any of that with a ten-foot pole. Z was intimidating as hell, and Izumi wanted no knowledge of whatever the three had going on because she felt she’d need brain bleach otherwise.

 “It's a crush,” Keigo teased. “I think it's good you're being more open. It helps.”

 “You, Uncle, Zizi and Auntie all tell me that. Yet rarely do you all take your advice,” Izumi grumbled. “I… I just said it. I'd already fucked up earlier, and then it came out because I was scared for her.”

 “Ah, the kid at the school. Hisashi called bragging,” Keigo told her. “Hence me being here since they did have to deal with that. You reporting the 1B kid kicked over a hornet’s nest, too.”

 “I wondered why you were here,” Izumi said. The blackmail to give him breaks had him sleeping more or doing whatever weird romantic thing he had with Dabi and Z. Sometimes; he hung out with her, but not like this. “I lost my temper.”

 “You were angry. It happens. I thought you wanted to be open anyway. Prove you do not need to be able-bodied or have a Quirk to be a hero,” Keigo said.

 “… I wanted to do it differently.” I wanted to be comfortable, Izumi didn't say. I wanted to be able to tell people I trusted. She wanted more control over her damn mouth before she admitted to the pain.

 “I get that. It's why there will be a big news story from me next week,” Keigo smirked, but Izumi just rolled her eyes. If it were news, she’d find out. “You wanted her to know. Wanted to help and have her know something private. Because you like her.”

 “It's not a crush,” Izumi insisted. Keigo rolled his eyes, and she kicked him with a pout. “By the way, the Commission was bugging me again. When do you want a kid?”

 “When you're a damn adult, and it's not skeevy to have you be a surrogate or when Z says she's willing to carry a baby,” Keigo muttered in disgust. Izumi just laughed, shaking her head.

 She felt a bit better now.)

-0-

  HAWKS COMES OUT AS THE CHILD OF A VILLAIN was a title that blazed all over the news a week after Midoriya’s confrontation with the other students. It finally beat out the low murmur of Vlad King being fired after he was discovered to have violated his probation. His encouragement of the rivalry and lacklustre handling of students had been pointed out as the reason.

 Momo felt the latter was more important than the first and told her friends so.

 “I don't disagree,” Iida said at lunch. While Hawks’s story is noteworthy, our concerns should lie with our sister class and the disturbance they are facing.”

 “I heard a couple of the kids got pulled from the hero course, the class president included!” Kaminari said in a conspiratory tone.

 “Same,” Uraraka agreed; Asui- no, Tsu, she preferred that- eating calmly beside her.

 “I hear it's for good reason,” Jirou put forward. “She was smacking other classmates for acting out. Imagine if she did that as a hero. Just SMACK at the back of the neck to a colleague.”

 “She could have seriously hurt someone!” Iida shook his head. “What if their Quirk made their neck weak?”

 “Agreed,” Midoriya said, coming up to their table. Her voice wasn't as controlled as it was earlier that day. She looked exhausted as she sat down, dressed in her limelight outfit. “Hawks only did this to ride off my speech; knowing him, he felt it the perfect time.”

 “You know Hawks?” Jirou asked, sounding disbelieving.

 “I know a lot of heroes. Some because they know I'm Quirkless and want the PR for when someone finally publishes it that I'm around,” snorted Midoriya. “Hawks, though, is my babysitter sometimes because I’m friends of a sort with one of his friends, and I also may or may not end up his surrogate, thanks to the Commission.”

 “...I think I need you to unpack all of that,” Kaminari said.

 “I’m Quirkless, meaning any child I have with someone who has a Quirk will have a ten times stronger Quirk than their other parent. The Commission is all too eager to support me in exchange for an agreement to carry a kid from a hero. Hawks is one of the possibilities; I know Endeavour could be one too,” Midoriya said distastefully.

 “Gross,” Kaminari said.

 “It’s life. I actually want kids anyway, so I don’t mind. Co-parenting would be simple,” Midoriya shrugged. “I’d rather have a shady deal and make my dream than not. It’s not that shady anyway.”

 “As long as I’m an uncle, I support you,” Iida said to Midoriya. She smiled at him, the amusement in her eyes painting this as a familiar joke before she switched topics.

 “Vlad King is a good hero, but he’s a terrible teacher,” she informed them. “I won’t go into what I know; a lot of it is private or at least confidential, but I will say his encouragement of rivalry has caused issues in the past that have now escalated into his removal as a teacher.”

 “What about the kids removed from the class?” Jirou asked.

 “1C has taken them. Gas Attack, the teacher, is in charge. She’s got a Class 9 Quirk for which she needs equipment, and she’s on a watchlist due to the dangers of her ability. She’s one of the best for sniffing out problems and driving home hard realities. She’ll get them sorted if she can; if not, she isn’t a bad teacher to have,” Midoriya shrugged. “I’m more worried about the media digging further into Vlad King.”

 “How so?” Momo asked curiously.

 “UA has secrets. Not many, and none are bad, but some could get dragged out,” Midoriya said. “Some stuff is kept quiet due to confidentiality or because it's like rescue points. It's something that any hero SHOULD think about, but not everyone does. As well… there's the program Nezu runs.” Midoriya hesitated. “You’ve seen the girl with space buns around, right?”

 “Toga? Yes,” Uraraka said with a nod. “She kind of seems intense.” Momo tried to think of the girl but had never talked to her. She was around often, though, her eyes glittering strangely at times.

 “Toga is part of a program Nezu keeps on the down low. It's a rehabilitation program for youth offenders. Toga has QAB, but her parent's neglect and abuse brought hers on.” Midoriya said quietly.

 “QAB?” Kaminari asked. “I think I've heard of that…”

 “Quirk Affected Behaviour, kero,” Tsu said. “I have it to a lot of people with a mutation or mental Quirks have it. It's why I act frog-like; my brain is wired that way.”

 “People with mental Quirks are more likely to have mental health concerns and are more susceptible to things like Huntington's and Dementia, too,” Midoriya said. “Toga has a physical Quirk that lets her shapeshift after she's tasted the blood of someone she's changing into. She needs blood, and her parents decided to keep her bloodless because they practiced Quirk suppression. She's very open about this, but she's also struggling.”

 “If she was denied blood, no wonder she has QAB, Kero,” Tsu said.

 “Exactly. She doesn't need it to live, but it helps her sanity and emotional regulation. Even just a bloody steak once a week would have helped, but her parents refused. So eventually, she snapped and killed three people before a friend of mine, Dabi, found her. He was also in the program and helped her out.” Midoriya looked at them sternly. “She is better and is in therapy. Her killings were deemed an action of insanity. Having her here isn't illegal, but…”

 “The media would cause a scandal,” Momo said. She didn't know what to think about a murderer being at the school, but as it was a sanity break, she could forgive it a bit more. It was a little unnerving, though.

  “Yeah. She can't be a hero- her psychosis is still there. She's aware it's wrong, but she can't move past her thoughts. But she is scary good with management stuff, so she's doing that. However, having her at a Hero School…” Midoriya shrugged.

 “Understandable. I made the cut-off for Heroics with my QAB, but my little brother didn't, Kero.” Tsu voiced. “He's upset about it.”

 “QAB is serious. My mom had it, which…” Midoriya sighed and shook her head. “It was not good.”

  “Can we befriend her?” Uraraka asked.

 “Go ahead, but if she talks about love, stop it. Part of her QAB is she is convinced that ‘love’ means becoming the person you love, which, for her, is killing them to take their place. She knows it's wrong, but again, she can't move past it.” Midoriya explained. “Do not encourage it and change the subject. She likes video games, cute stuff and pastel goth fashion. Also, if she says she loves you, go to a teacher.”

 “Sounds good,” Uraraka nodded, looking determined.

 “I wonder if we could point out Bakugou and say his attitude is Quirk-related, and they'd pull him,” Kaminari suddenly said. Momo pursed her lips. It was an attractive thought.

 “He doesn't have QAB. His Quirk is physical only, unlike Toga’s, which has a shapeshifting element. He got tested when my mom was diagnosed,” Midoriya said. “I did, too. Mostly because my mom was convinced, I had an analyst Quirk for a few years. I don’t, but she made me do it.”

 “We had to do a lot of tests to get into UA,” Uraraka pointed out. “A kid from my school had an IED, and he wasn't allowed to be a hero.”

 “IED?”

 “Intermittent explosive disorder. Basically, he had these emotions that caused him to fly into rages every so often. He had a fire Quirk and got away with a lot of stuff until his diagnosis. He's in a facility now,” Uraraka said.

 “A lot of mental health diagnoses or medical conditions automatically disqualify you from heroics. People don't know that, though, because it's not talked about,” Midoriya said.

 “The line is anyone can be a hero. But it's not the truth,” Iida agreed. “Anyone can be one; however, sometimes it's not safe for them or others to be heroes.”

 “… okay how did we get on this topic?” Jirou asked.

 “It's kind of all connected. Hawks has a criminal dad, meaning his worthiness of being a hero is in doubt, and Vlad King was removed from his teaching position because he isn't doing what is needed. So discussing qualifications of heroics is connected.” Kaminari said.

 Momo nodded. It had been an exciting conversation, and she was happy Midoriya wasn't hiding away. She was with the class all week but hadn't eaten with them.

 It was nice she was back.

(Izumi didn't like Toga that much. The girl always knew she was wrong but had gone along with her whims. Insanity or not, that had always disturbed Izumi. Toga had a psychosis, and it wasn't her fault, but it didn't mean Izumi had to LIKE the girl.

 But it was nice to chat with her friends after everything. Yaoyorozu talked with her still, and he wasn't put off by Izumi’s confession about what had happened years back. Izumi smiled, thinking of the other girl. The past week had been crazy with the Vlad King stuff and handling the outcomes of her little speech. The purple kid, Shinsou, had apologized to her. He was also in therapy, apparently, but he would swap his therapist, who'd been encouraging his attitude.

 The other stuff, though, was trickier. Vlad King wasn't a bad man; he was just very… competitive and had issues recognizing problematic behaviour. Uncle Sho had been similar in many ways before he took her in, and it was only because he wanted to set a good example that he started therapy for his issues. He still didn't like admitting he was wrong, but he at least admitted that therapy helped.

 “So, it's official,” Hizashi said as Izumi entered the staff room. “ID is now the 1B teacher. They'll be here next week.”

 “Tensei will be happy,” Nemuri said. “Hey, kiddo, did you sit with Yaoyorozu again?” the heroine waggled her eyebrows, and Izumi rolled her eyes.

 “Yes,” she said, not bothering to hide the slur to the word. “Am I sitting in the announcer's booth this year?”

 “Nah, you’ll be working as a referee,” Hizashi said. “You have good insights and Quirk analysis, but you should keep that quiet for now if you really want to play up the flirty badass.”

 “Agreed,” Nemuri said with a nod. “Hide the brain, play up the flirt. Ooh, I think-”

 “No,” Izumi said. “I’m sort of a superior.”

 “And?” Nemuri joked, but she looked understanding.

 It wasn’t fair that Izumi always had to be aware of the issues surrounding her and the others. She couldn’t just be friends with them, not right now anyway. Maybe if she got a license early and signed on as a sidekick with someone else… not Nighteye. He was doing better after the verbal dressing down and therapy. But Izumi knew she couldn’t stand working with him long term. They were too much alike.

 However, the only one Izumi wanted to work with was either her Uncle or Zizi. She trusted them and knew they had her best interests at heart. Anyone else could use her for clout or be like that one hero who tried to make her quit out of ‘worry’ for her being Quirkless.

 “Is there anything I need to know for the afternoon lessons?” Izumi asked after a moment. Might as well get back to work.)

-0-

 The Sports Festival started out amazing. Momo got fourth place, behind Iida, Bakugou and Todoroki. They placed first in the Calvary battles. She had been so happy…

 Now, she was shaking as she stood in the hallway. She’d lost to Tokoyami. He was a strong opponent yet, but… it took five seconds for him to beat her. She covered her face, not wanting to look at anything.

 She’d lost. Her, Momo, the top student and the highest scorer on the recommendation exam. She’d lost.

 Was Mother right? Was she nothing? Was all of this because of her money? Was-

 “Yaoyorozu.” a voice said, sounding relieved. Momo looked up to see Midoriya, who was wearing her limelight hero outfit, plus an orange lanyard declaring her an apprentice. “You okay?”

 “I’m fine. I…” Momo wiped her face. “Tokoyami won fair and square. It… I am fine.”

 “No, you’re not,” Midoriya disagreed. “You want to talk about it?”

 “I…” Momo started to shake her head, but the words that came out of her mouth just came. “I lost so fast.”

 “Tokoyami isn’t just one person; he’s two people simultaneously. You’re not fighting just him,” Midoriya said reasonably. “But I bet that’s not a comfort,” she sighed. “Just an excuse.”

 “I’m the top student. I was recommended. How can I fail so badly,” Momo said. “He’s a strong opponent, but five seconds…”

 “Yaoyorozu, I’m going to be blunt,” Midoriya began slowly. “But you tend to go for the chess style of fighting. You like to plan and adapt. It’s why you’re amazing when we have scenarios you can think through. But reacting to a situation instantly is something you need to work on. You’re not bad at it, but the chess thoughts overcome your mind when you panic.”

 “Oh,” Momo blinked upon hearing that. “I am more trained for long-term plans.”

 “Which isn’t bad. It's a vital skill when you’re a hero working on large-scale operations,” Midoriya said. “But in a fight, you need to be quick on your feet. Do you know about batting cages?”

 “Yes…” Momo said slowly.

 “I suggest going to one where you can use your Quirk and have it firing at you. Respond with shields, and try to make it faster each time. Then get a friend to come and randomly surprise you.” Midoriya said. “I know that with Info Dropper now on staff they plan to use their Quirk to build better personalized plans, so that may happen soon anyway.”

 “I still lost,” Momo said, feeling guilty for being so upset about it.

 “It’s the first sports festival, and you beat how many others?” Midoriya pointed out. “I loved you drop-kicking Mineta when he grabbed you. It was beautiful.”

 “Thank you,” Momo said, smiling a little at the memory. “It’s mostly 1A students in the finals,” she said out loud.

 “It is. 1B is suffering from Vlad King’s mismanagement plus ID is a hard taskmaster.” Midoriya said. “Everyone else didn’t try to hard.”

 “Except for Hatsume and Shinsou,” Momo said. “Can I ask if anything has happened with him after the…”

 “Blow out?” Midoriya asked. She shrugged at Momo’s nod. “He’s been talked to, and he’s actually trying now, so I think we’re good. Hatsume did well until her fight, hence her disqualification after it turned out she lied to Tenya. That was dishonesty and very against the rules.”

 “She didn’t seem to think so,” Momo said, remembering the girl yelling about it being unfair she couldn’t show off her babies.

 “She lied to Tenya about wanting a fair match and then used it against him. It’s not a bad move as an underground hero, but in the sports festival context, it was dishonest and against the rules. She’s also probably going to be blacklisted for a year.” Midoriya said. “The sports festival is crucially important for hero students. If she were one herself or a dual program student, it would have been seen as a good thing. As someone in support, it will be taken as she can’t follow the rules or respect others. Plus, the Iida family is highly respected. She will find herself suddenly short a lot of friends.”

 “It’s that important?!” Momo asked in horror. What did it mean that she had failed so badly?

 “Yaoyorozu, you are a first-year student. No one will hold you, failing against you but yourself. You’re strong, smart, and adaptable, but you aren’t perfect. No one is.” Midoriya told her honestly. “You have time.”

 Momo nodded, deciding to take those words to heart. Or try to.

 She had gotten far.

(The next day back at school, Izumi was half listening to ID rant about the ‘dumbasses who allow certain heroes to request interns’ as the hero furiously tossed some requests into the trash. They’d been drafted to help pick out proper mentors given their Quirk.

 “I mean, I get why she does this, but for a first year? No,” ID said as they tossed a letter into the refusal pile.

 “Who?”

 “Uwabami,” ID said, their eyes flashing as they got the information from the name. “She tends to go after the girls who look down on other girls or for those she thinks need an ego boost. There’s that new law being debated for mutation Quirks, and she may look more human than not, but I’ve seen her unhinge her jaw to eat a full turkey. So she puts her face out there, looks pretty, and makes noises about her being a mutant, too, and how those laws affect her. Insert pretty pout, leaning over to show off her cleavage, and a lot of guys don’t want her to not be on TV.” ID listed.

 “But you don’t want her taking first-year students.” Izumi summarized.

 “No. That girl with the creation Quirk? Your crush? She would be very put off by the placement, and while sure she needs some self-esteem, Snakey isn’t a good choice.” ID shook their head. “I see why Nezu asked me to pre-screen. This is dumb as hell.”

 “ID!” Nemuri said upon entering the room. “How is Tensei?”

 “Good. He’s still shaken,” ID said with a sigh. “But Stain is in custody and will be for some time. I’m just happy my brother was in Hosu, even if it was to intimidate Engine Boy over his intentions now that we’re in the same country.”

 “Is Squirt in trouble for using his Quirk?” Nemuri asked.

 “No. He’s actually being praised. He’s also offered his own pseudo-internship to that purple kid from gen-ed. It is just a general ‘hey, so we both have similar Quirks, and I’m going to teach you ethics’ since the kid lacks a few. The Possum is in favour, so is the kid’s teacher and Done is alright,” ID listed. Izumi had to take a second to remember who the Possum and Done were. ID’s Quirk only worked with names and not the specific nicknames they gave, but they got confusing sometimes.

 “Why does Uncle Sho need to know?” Izumi asked.

 “Kid wants to be underground. He’s the guy who vets them usually, though the Possum is trying to lure others here,” ID said casually. “Done says he won’t take another apprentice other than basic training with his scarf; he’s got you. Hopefully, the ki… nope, students. Can’t gossip.”

 “She’s not a student,” Nemuri said.

 “She’s buddies with some,” ID countered. The two began bickering over it as Izumi listened, though her mind moved from their discussion to the first point.

 Yaoyorozu wasn’t confident. Izumi had picked up on it, but… this seemed more serious. If ID, who tended to brush aside minor issues and outright ignore solvable things, mentioned it…

 How to increase confidence, though?)

-0-

 Momo did not know how any of this happened. One minute, she followed her work studies teacher, Manual; the next, she made fire extinguishers while chowing down on high-calorie snack bars as the entire city burned.

 “Can you make wire nets? These things are vicious?” Her mentor said as he ducked a swipe from a Nomu, one of the creatures from the USJ. Momo shoved a snack bar into her mouth and made a net wordlessly. “Thanks!” he ran off with it, and she kept going.

 “MOVE!” a voice shouted, slightly garbled, and then there was Midoriya. She was on top of a Nomu, knife in hand, cutting at its wings. Momo swallowed a too-big chunk, choking briefly, and saw Midoriya highlighted by the fires behind her. “STAIN IS LOOSE! I REPEAT!” Midoriya shouted to everyone in a clear voice. “STAIN IS LOOSE! SUSPECTED INVOLVEMENT WITH THE GROUP THAT ATTACKED THE USJ!” her voice slurred on the last few words, but she pressed on. She looked at Momo and nodded before running off.

 Momo only had time to wonder why the other girl was here before she was distracted with work again. She and Todoroki (there with his father) worked side by side until a text came through their phones. He noticed, first, an address from Midoriya.

 “Manual!” Momo shouted to her mentor. “Mid- I mean, Trash Panda! She sent a location!”

 “Shit, alright,” Manual grabbed a sidekick. “Valkyrie, go with the students!” he said, pushing her towards Momo and Todoroki, who was already running.

 They found their way to the location, where a hero was on the ground with blood around him and an armoured figure recognizable as Iida. Fighting off a man with a red scarf carrying a sword was Midoriya. She was jumping around with her scarf, lifting her, and throwing knives. She’d lost her jacket and had a cut on her stomach. She seemed eager to keep away from the man.

 “It’s Stain!” shouted the downed hero. “He tastes your blood, you’re down!”

 “More fakes?” Stain said darkly.

 “Oh, for the love of fucking GODS!” Midoriya shouted, her voice slurred and angry. “Stop with the fucking self-congratulatory speeches about only you know what a true hero is!” she threw a knife at the man, who dodged with a snarl.

 “You fakes-”

 “Oh fuck off. All you’re doing is bitching. No one follows the ideals you set forward. What, you think certain Quirks should be banned from heroics too?” Midoriya mocked.

 Momo ran to Iida and the other hero- Native, she thought he was- while Todoroki and Valkyrie ran at Stain. Bandages were coming from her arms as she heard Midoriya continually mock Stain, calling him a rapid fanboy and an ‘egotistical mother fucker who wanted his name in the books. Does that sound familiar, Stainy?’ It was somewhat amusing, and she had to keep her eyes firmly on the people she was helping, or Midoriya would distract her.

 “I should have gotten help,” Iida said in shame. “But I saw Native was hurt and just couldn’t leave.”

 “So it really isn't about your brother?” Native asked.

 “That’s my cousin beating up Stain. She already beat me up when I mentioned revenge,” Iida said dryly.

 “Ah, I see how that would be…” Native looked at Midoriya, and Momo glanced back to see the girl kicking Stain in the face as Todoroki tried to freeze him. “Reason to reconsider.”

 “She’s amazing,” Momo couldn't help but say. Iidas gave her a look she flushed at.

 “She is gay if you're interested,” he said finally. Momo ignored him.

 That wasn't any of his business.

(Izumi wished they had more people who could block teleportation Quirks. Dealing with Stain after he got out, thanks to the League of Villains, was not fun. She almost wanted to cry when she sat down at the press conference. The long cut she got on her stomach was healed up but tender and her head ached from a lucky shot that had it bouncing off the ground.

 Yet there she was at a press conference, given she was again involved with something big. She looked out at the crowd of reporters, noticing how some looked smug. Why?

 “I have a question for Trash Panda!” one said when the time for questions started. She was blue-skinned with purple hair, and the smugness was oozing off her.

 “Yes?” Izumi asked, giving her best smile.

 “I’m Kizuki Chitose with Shoowaysha News. We interviewed Mrs. Watanabe, who said she was surprised you were on TV claiming to have graduated early. She said you frequently cheated but blamed others,” the reporter said in a smug tone. “You also got her fired for wrongful reasons. Your response?”

 “Aldera Elementary was investigated for abuse,” Izumi said bluntly. “I already spoke of the abuse from my father, but what few realize was that the school as well was abusive. They let students use their Quirks on each other and, when discussing anatomy, would drag certain people to force them to show their ‘freakish’ appendages.” Izumi said. “Among those were a girl with cat ears and tail, a boy with six arms, and me, as I am Quirkless. They were very invested in pointing at my feet to discuss my backwardness.”

 That got the crowd going, but Izumi pressed on, staring down Kizuki. “I am Quirkless. People say that means I have to be stupid, but the highest IQ was 400, achieved by a Quirkless man centuries ago. My so-called cheating was proven time and again not to be by the Anti-Cheating Board and various officials. Mrs. Watanabe was the worst of my teachers and once attempted to force me to strip to show off where my appendix was before I got it removed.” Izumi stood up and motioned to her side, where the faint scar was before she sat back down. “It’s funny you say you spoke to her. Did you do any research on her claims? Or did you simply decide that you could accuse me? Because it is public knowledge.” Izumi stared down the woman, who looked pissed.

 “What about the so-called speech impediment you used to have?” Kizuki demanded. “She says you faked it, and I don't hear it now.”

 “I have it,” Izumi stopped trying to hide it, letting it colour her words. “If you look into the case against my father, you’ll notice how I got it. I don't want to discuss the incident, so I won't. But it makes things hard to understand.” she looked at the sea of reporters who were all listening in. Some looked like they couldn't understand her, others looked thoughtful. “I am Quirkless. I am disabled. This is not something I hide. The claim I am lying or that certain things happened is false. Perhaps you should check your sources better.”

 The sheer rage makes Izumi want to flinch, but it lets everyone launch other questions. Some she was prepared for—why be a hero, how could she be a hero, the laws involved, and so on. But one…

 “Is it true you're engaged to fellow hero student Bakugou Katsuki?” a man asked. Izumi had to do a double take.

 “What?” she stared at him, completely baffled. “No? I'm not a hero student; I’m an apprentice. And no. My mentor is my guardian, and he cancelled anything my father set up, but I've never agreed to anything like that.” Izumi looked at the man, very confused. He raised an eyebrow.

 “A recent Tweet from said boy says different.” The man said.

 “… I am not engaged,” Izumi said dryly. “And it will never happen with him. I'm gay. Any other questions?”

 What had that been about?

 After the conference, Izumi checked her phone. There were messages from Todoroki, Tenya, and Yaoyorozu. Todoroki had sent a warning that his father was angry that she was getting recognition. Izumi sent back an acknowledgment and then forwarded it to Dabi. 

 Tenya was apologizing again. He'd gotten separated from Gran Torino and had been trying to find him when he'd stumbled on Stain. He did try to save Native, no revenge. Good, she’d kick his ass again otherwise.

 Momo’s made her smile. A congrats on her press conference and expressing hope she was okay. Izumi texted back a confirmation, tucking her phone away. She liked texting Momo. It was lovely.)

-0-

  The day after the internships, Momo backed up Midoriya, who was staring down Bakugou.

 “For the love of all that’s holy,” Midoriya was saying, voice slurred and annoyed, “why the fuck did you do that?”

 “Because it was true,” he growled. “We were engaged. The bag talked about it.”

 “Well, not anymore. Besides, you were one of many Hisashi who wanted to marry me off, too, so it’s probable we actually weren't.” Midoriya said dryly. “Why post it? Why do you have this constant need to be in the spotlight and this obsession with me?”

 “I'm not obsessed with you! You're obsessed with me!” Bakugou shouted. “Always following me around with your stalker notebooks and-”

 “I haven't been near you since we were eleven, and they weren't stalker notebooks,” Midoriya said. “I literally lived two blocks over from your house. I was going home whenever you saw me, and honestly, after I turned seven, I got bored with your Quirk. Everyone else had cooler ones.” Midoriya said bluntly. “You were the one who always had to have a go at me. You were the one always complaining. I kept away from you. Even now, who starts any of this? I literally walked in here, and you started. This is on you.” Bakugou glared at her, looking pissed as Kirishima looked torn.

 The gossip Jirou imparted to Momo the day before said that Bakugou’s disqualification for attempting to attack Shinsou after his loss had shaken Kirishima. His claims of cheating and that the ‘stupid Brainwashing bitch’ was a liar had been too much. The theory presented by Ashido stated Kirishima believed Bakugou to be a victim of bullying himself or someone who'd been told his whole life he would be a villain.

 Momo was confident it had no basis, given how Midoriya talked about him. She did see how Kirishima got that idea, though.

 “You’re a fucking worthless Deku, and you always will be!” he snarled at Midoriya.

 “And you’re nothing but the same asshole you were as a kid,” Midoriya said. She turned away as Aizawa came into the room. Bakugou looked baffled as if he didn’t understand what was going on.

 Momo focused on class, though, and left for lunch with her friends. Toga had been looking at their table before Todoroki joined the group, surprising them. The space bun girl looked put out but seemed to move on.

 “It’ll piss off my father being around you,” he told Midoriya, who shrugged.

 “You’re dad’s a bitch. I support this,” she told him.

 “He is,” Todoroki said as the others snickered.

 “Ah, shitty parents run in the class then,” Kaminari said. “My dad’s been starting shit about Midoriya now. No offense.”

 “Which does he have an issue with?” she asked.

 “The slurring,” Kaminari said. “Not the Quirklessness.”

 “Huh,” Midoriya shrugged.

 “My parents think it’s epic and want to have a talk with Bakugou. That was so weird seeing that,” Jirou said.

 “My mother emailed me, but I only sent it to my dad,” Momo offered. “She’s not supposed to have contact with me, and I let it go for too long, but… it wasn’t good.” There were a lot of insults and mocking of Momo for needing to be saved by a variety of words that made her make a picture of the woman to destroy.

 “My parents are similar to Jirou’s. They asked me to stay away from someone who’d post that sort of thing, more so with some videos they found,” Uraraka.

 “Videos?” Midoriya asked, her face paling. “Shit, they uploaded me being bullied, didn’t they?”

 “Yeah. Like… it’s dumb kid stuff, but some comments say Quirks were involved,” Uraraka admitted. “Didn’t you know?”

 “Sort of. I knew it was out there, but not what exactly.” Midoriya sighed. “I don’t want Bakugou expelled,” she said. It felt odd and slightly out of place, causing all the students to do a double-take. “I fear what he could become without the support and structure of UA. If he needs to be removed, sending him to 1C is better than outright expulsion. I’ll have to make some report now to clear that up.” She stood up, pushing away from the table. “Another thing…” she muttered before taking off.

 “What’s that about?” Uraraka asked Iida, who sighed.

 “It’s not unknown, but Shinsou, the 1C boy? He’s been half-accepted into heroics as long as he proves himself. He has a teacher giving him personal instruction. Mrs. Blink, she teaches second-year math,” Iida explained. “But he’s upset because he wanted Aizawa to teach him, as he idolizes the man and has even shown skill with a captured weapon.”

 “Yet Midoriya is his apprentice,” Todoroki said.

 “Exactly. So he’s upset at her, and it’s caused a mess. It’s become known among staff and even some of us other students who take extra classes,” Iida warned. “People are bad-mouthing Shinsou more for demanding even more from UA when he’s gotten so much. Which is causing backlash.”

 “Well, duh, he’s demanding a specific teacher when one’s already assigned?” Jirou shook her head. “This kid is… entitled isn't he?”

 Momo noticed a familiar purple hair behind Jirou and watched his shoulders stiffen. She ate her food quietly.

 Midoriya saved lives recently and helped take down a serial killer with delusions of grandeur. She then got bashed by multiple media sources for being Quirkless.

 Momo had a crush, but anyone with sense would know she didn't deserve hate for being lucky.

(”Did we catch it early?” Izumi asked Nezu.

 “No. The media got some from my minor hacking. I expect we’ll see articles tomorrow,” the principal said.

 “Try this evening,” Info Dropper remarked from where they'd been dragged into the miniature war meeting.

 “Shit,” Shouta rubbed his face as he glanced towards his niece. “You okay?”

 “I already said the schools were investigated. I'm just worried about how everything else will pan out,” Izumi admitted. “Bakugou won't let this go.”

 “He’ll be moved to 1B like we’ve been trying?” Nezu said. “Info Dropper is skilled enough to handle him, and he’ll be on a tight leash, so to speak. Other than verbal abuse, he hasn't resorted to his old physical bullying, so we will use that in our defence of keeping him on. We have the opening in 1B to make it happen.”

 “Suckerpunch needs more time in therapy before I want her back in class,” Info Dropper said. While the other students had returned to 1B after the sports festival, Kendo was still stuck in 1C. It wasn't going well. “I thought Sleepy Boi would be in my class with the issues concerning his tantrum.”

 “He didn't have a tantrum. He just complained,” Izumi said. “It's annoying and causing issues, but it’s not like he's insulting me and threatening me.”

 “Squirt will set the kid straight.” ID said. “Or I will. But should he go to Done?”

 “I'm honestly the best person to teach him, more so next semester when we get to the personal training I have with my students… unless the dumb plan to get them provisional licenses goes through,” Shouta said.

 “I vote no on that still,” Izumi said, even though it wasn't her call. “It'll let the Commission deploy them as heroes, and if things go as bad as we think…”

 “Point. I'll withdraw my request,” Nezu decided. I'd rather not have first-year students fighting a war.”

 “Well, we’ll move Bakugou. Tell the board they can deal with the PR nightmare if they complain,” Shouta nodded. “It should probably wait till finals, though. Bakugou’s on his last strike; if he messes this up, it’s demotion to gen ed.”

 “Does he know that?” Izumi had to ask.

 “I told him. We’ll see if he listens.”)

-0-

 Momo enjoyed studying and was happy that so many wanted to join her little group. Some were people she did not often spend time with, such as Ashido, so it was nice to devote more time with them. Midoriya had begged off when she was asked to hang out, the girl reminding them she was somewhat their superior. She knew what would be on the tests, so it was more reasonable she did not help out. Toga had offered to help, too, but Uraraka had made an excuse, confiding in Momo the blonde was being weird. She already confessed her love to the gravity girl, so it meant they needed to be kept apart anyway.

 Which was the current topic of discussion.

 “Bakugou’s saying since he has to be moved, it means the engagement is still on,” Ashido said to Uraraka, who rolled her eyes hard.

 “She’s gay, she went on live television to say so,” Uraraka said.

 “He said she’s bisexual and lying, but even Kiri is telling him to knock it off. Hopefully, being tutored by the asshole gets through the last of his weird block about realizing how much Bakugou sucks,” Ashido looked at her papers. “Ugh, math is the worst.”

 “Everyone knows Yaomomo and Midoriya like each other,” Sero said. Momo’s face went warm, looking away. “What? It’s true.”

 “Midoriya may like me,” Momo hedged. She didn’t believe it, but her therapist told her she should try to accept the idea people may like her. She’d been rejecting the notion for some time. “But given her position, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

 “So? Wait till her apprenticeship is done. She’s been one for over a year; she just needs to pass the tests,” Sero said.

 “Can we focus on studying?” Momo asked, and thankfully, Uraraka helped get people back on track. Momo let her mind wander a little about that, though, the idea of dating after Midoriya became a sidekick. She’d still work with her uncle, Momo figured, but perhaps she would no longer work at UA. It would be sad to lose the girl, but… if they could date… maybe…

 Maybe.

(“I’m sorry,” Shinsou said to Izumi. She lifted her head in surprise, raising an eyebrow at him. They’d been recording his averages for the test he needed to pass to meet the physical requirements of UA’s hero course, something he’d forgotten about when complaining about the entrance exam. Yes, he failed there, but he’d also failed the physical requirements. It was simply easier to blame outside influences than your own shortcomings. “For the stuff with Eraserhead and me complaining.”

 “Squirt kick your ass?” Izumi asked.

 “He did. And Mrs. Blink and Gas Attack and a bunch of others. I was… I dunno. I built up the idea of being this lone wolf who was let down by society and saw Eraserhead as just like me,” Shinsou said. “And being trained by him was my dream.”

 “I get it.” Izumi allowed. “How’s therapy?” Should she know this stuff? Probably not, but somehow, she’s become the group TA for the first-year teachers, or at least Shouta, Info Dropper and Gas Attack.

 “Good. My victimization complex is under control,” Shinsou joked. “How’s Bakugou’s bullshit?”

 “How did you know about that?” Izumi had to ask.

 “Other kids are talking about it. Plus, he’s shown up trying to find you. We always send him off; it’s kind of weird.” Shinsou said. Izumi shook her head, focusing on finishing up the writing she needed. “Are you safe?”

 “I am,” she promised.

 “And your girlfriend? The creation girl?” Shinsou asked.

 “Not my girlfriend.” Izumi corrected.

 “Really?” Shinsou blinked in surprise. “Why not?”

 “For one, I don’t know if she likes me. And two, I’m technically a superior,” Izumi said.

 “She so likes you, but I’ll give the second,” Shinsou nodded and didn’t bring it up again.

 Izumi didn’t think Yaoyorozu liked her. Sure, They were friends, but… well, Izumi was the ‘half-feral’ Trash Panda, as one paper called her, after finding a picture of her biting a criminal. Yaoyorozu was so pretty, so proper… there wasn’t any chance.

 There wasn’t.)

-0-

 As finals approached, Kirishima punched Bakugou in the face and stopped hanging around him. It was right after some newspaper got an expose on the teenager about how he’d treated the rising star Trash Panda, whose fame was rising even more as Midoriya worked with Present Mic and others.

 Momo hadn’t been there, but it was retold with delight by Ashido, and it made her… feel strange.

 She didn’t like Bakugou. Not at all, and she would shed no tears about him being removed from the hero course. But for everyone to turn on him for things he did years ago was difficult. It wasn’t like it happened maybe a year or so ago; it had been when they were eleven. It would be different; Momo knew if he’d still been abusing Midoriya (for it was abuse with his words, fists and Quirk) when they were in middle school. Frankly, she’s halfway convinced he had other targets and wouldn’t be surprised if they started coming out of the woodwork now that the first gauntlet was thrown.

 But he was losing everything, and Momo could only watch him realize it. He would look around the classroom, looking confused or angry. He’d try to talk, only for people to ignore him or harshly remind him of their names. Any aggressive behaviour was avoided, and…

 It looked lonely. Not enough Momo would talk to him; she could not stand him. But she felt for him in a way.

 He lost everything and only received scraps in the end. Not even, actually. Momo should NOT have overheard his conversation with Aizawa a few days after the first study session with the class. She’d been waiting for Midoriya when she heard yelling. She’d gone to check just in case but overheard it.

 “You’re failing your ethics class and have two strikes, Bakugou. If you fail your final, you will be put into 1C, not 1B.”

 Bakugou was failing and would be removed if he didn’t pass, and now his entire class, including the boy who’d been insisting he was a good guy, had turned away. It was hard not to feel sorry for him.

 “It’s not on you,” Midoriya told her when Momo confessed what she heard. “I feel sorry for him, too, but it’s his bed.”

 “You feel sorry for him despite him being a bully?” Momo asked. “And for what he says to you sometimes?”

 “Bakugou is a teenager who has never been told no. I feel sorry that his first no, his first setback, is going to be about this,” Midoriya said. “I believe he can be a good hero, I do. I just also think he needs time. UA has connections to hero universities.” Midoriya shrugged, and Momo just had to say it.

 “You’re a good person for wanting him to be a hero,” she said honestly.

 “I don’t know about good,” Midoriya said. “I’m taking some glee in this even if I don’t show it.”

 “You’re a good person. You’re a good hero too, and…” Momo hesitated. “You saved me and the others at the USJ. You stopped Stain. Bakugou tried to form a connection with you, but you stopped it in its tracks without dragging him. If you get some petty revenge, I think you deserve it.”

 “Thanks,” Midoriya said after a moment. I’m thinking about taking the licensing exam soon. I'll be a sidekick and might decide to work with Present Mic or Nezu. He’s offered recently.”

 “Oh! Congrats!” Momo smiled at her friend, trying not to think it could mean they'd have a chance.

 Midoriya didn't like her like that. She didn't.

 “I… there are many reasons why I want to.” Midoriya babbled a little. “It's um…”

 “I…” Momo swallowed and gave a hopeful smile.

 Maybe she did.

(”I am a gay mess,” Izumi told Tenya as the two ran together.

 “And?” he asked. “I already knew that.”

 “Funny. I think Yaoyorozu likes me.”

 “I already knew that too.” Tenya joked, and Izumi nudged him with a pout. Or she tried; he dodged with a laugh.

 “I wanna date her. I'll take the sidekick exam this summer as planned, but now…”

 “Now, you may get a girlfriend later. Uncle Shouta doesn't take sidekicks,” Tenya nodded. “Who will you go with?”

 “Zizi offered. As did Nezu, actually.” Izumi said.

 “Nezu is better professionally, and it removes you fully as a superior to Yaoyorozu. Nezu’s sidekick will be doing Nezu's chores, not marking or teaching.” Tenya said.

 “That's true,” Izumi said. “Wow, I may get a girlfriend soon. You need a boyfriend now.”

 “No thanks. I prefer most of the boys in our class to be friends, and the one I would consider at all is going through things,” Tenya said. “And no girlfriend either for me.”

 “Is it Todoroki?” Izumi asked. “Uncle Sho is saying that he will expel Todoroki to 1C if he refuses to use his fire.” Nothing they were saying seemed to be getting through to him. He was friendly and sat with them to spite his father, but there was a gap. He didn’t want to listen. It reminded her a lot of Dabi when he was first going through the rehab program, needing to get it drilled in that he wasn’t a special snowflake. Others had just as bad lives.

 “I won't say,” Tenya replied.

 That meant yes, and a puzzle for Izumi to consider.)

-0-

 Momo was paired with Shinsou for the finals, and she found that she had to take control of the situation quickly as the boy did not know what to do—working with someone eager to listen and respectful of her felt… nice. Momo smiled at the boy after they finished the exam, having beaten Aizawa sensei with a catapult and a quick insult from Shinsou.

“I think you have officially gained entrance, Shinsou!” Momo said to the boy. Sure, there were the rough parts of his complaints, but he'd gotten over it, working with the other students to learn more.

 “Thanks, Yaoyorozu,” Shinsou said. “Worried about Trash Panda’s bout?” Momo fell silent.

 It had been decided that Midoriya would fight Bakugou and Todoroki herself, as All Might didn't know how to hold back. Momo could only feel fear, knowing that her… almost-girlfriend might be facing those two. Todoroki Momo didn't worry too much about it. But Bakugou?

 He was a worry.

 Still, Momo didn't let it get to her. Instead, they watched the rest of the exams until the final one. She couldn't look away.

 Midoriya led the boys into a trap, jumping around a warehouse-like building. She was cunning and swift as she lured them into Two rooms as the boys had split up. Bakugou was trapped with foam that prevented his Quirk from working while Todoroki was locked in an ice room.

 “This is… Disappointing,” Kaminari said as the timer began running out.

 “It's teamwork for Bakugou and fire for Todoroki,” Iida said after some thought. “We were all tested on our weaknesses. Yaoyorozu with her self esteem so she had to take a leadership role, Shinsou with working together…”

 “With someone I’d assume is a silver spoon asshole,” Shinsou interjected a little bitterly.

 “Yes. Ashido with Kaminari on their intelligence and figuring out more than direct routes… these two were paired up to see if they'd work together and if Todoroki could use fire.”

 “And they failed,” Recovery Girl said as the timer ended.

 Momo watched as Midoriya slumped on the screen, disappointed in the boys.

 Momo felt the same.

 (Izumi didn't stick around when Shouta came to free the boys. Bakugou’s screaming had proven that she should not be there. The yells of cheaters and unfairness lay on her shoulders.

 Had she been unfair? When they split up, she’d quickly taken advantage. Todoroki would need to use his fire to escape the cold room and free Bakugou. That had been her plan the entire time. Everyone agreed to it.

 But had it been unfair? Was it cruel? Did she do the right thing?

 “Well, Bakugou is now in general education until the second-year sports festival, and Todoroki has until the end of summer to use his fire, or he joins Bakugou,” Shouta said, sitting beside her.

 “… I feel guilty,” Izumi admitted.

 “Don’t. You did the right thing.” Shouta told her. “The boys would have failed with All Might, and you only used a scenario we all agreed on.”

 “The Bakugous might not see it that way,” Izumi said.

 “We told them this morning. We laid out our plan, and they agreed. We also told Endeavour, who might not like you but agrees his son needs to use his fire. Izumi, you did well.” Shouta told his niece. She laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

 “Thanks,” she signed, not feeling like talking. He hugged her.

 “You’re welcome, kid,” he said softly.

 She still felt guilty. Still felt awful. But… it was good, Izumi thought, that she had helped in some way.

 Hopefully, it would lessen the ache.)

-0-

 While it was revealed all the students would get to go, out of the last exam, only Todoroki would be going to the summer camp, and on his last try. The boy seemed numb and unfocused as he stared at his hands. Momo glanced at him in worry but had to focus on other things.

 Like asking Midoriya to the mall, sure, everyone was going, but Momo actually asked the girl herself. And Midoroya agreed! It was amazing.

 Momo put so much effort into her clothes that day, ensuring her hair was nice and everything. She beamed upon seeing Midoriya- dressed in skater pants and a denim jacket over a band shirt- who flushed upon seeing Momo in a blue dress with her hair down.

 “Hello Midoriya!” Momo said.

 “Hi,” Midoriya hadn't bothered controlling her voice other than making it clear in a while. It sounded so nice, and Momo just kept smiling at the other. “Umm, what did you need to get?”

 “Some new shoes. I can make my own, but I prefer buying them. I may be able to make them, but there's something about an actual company knowing what they're doing…” Momo shrugged as the group all entered the mall.

 Inside, Momo spotted a stall selling Trash Panda mercy, little stuffed figures of the girl beside her or little raccoons poking out of trash cans. Along with that, there were shirts, jackets and more. A familiar space-bunned girl was buying something, but Momo had to point it out, getting the entire class all cheering.

 “Oh god,” Midoriya blushed, covering her face. “Zizi said they would have some stuff up…”

 “It's cute. I'm going to get a raccoon!” Ashido said. Midoriya refused to approach the stall for fear of being recognized, so Momo hung back as they watched the class surround it.

 “I never thought about this until now,” Midoroya said softly. “Me having merch.”

 “Well, you are a hero,” Momo said softly. Midoriya shrugged.

 “I suppose. It's just… strange. I'm a hero. Me, the Quirkless girl who got the shit beaten out of her by her dad. It's… nice.” Midoriya smiled. “I wonder how many Quirkless kids are buying my stuff.”

 “Every single one, I bet,” Momo said as a man came up behind them.

 “Hey, you're from UA, aren’t you?” he asked. Midoriya was turning, elbow going up to block the man’s hand as she shoved Momo out of range before the other girl could blink.

 A look at the man’s face showed who it was. Shigaraki.

 “Oh, you recognized me.” the villain said darkly.

 “Shigaraki, I am placing you-” Midoriya began, but he interrupted her.

 “Why is everyone obsessed with Stain?” he demanded.

 Momo almost fell in shock, but instead, she stayed standing, staring in confusion.

 “What?” Midoriya asked. “Stain?”

 “He's the one talked about! Him and you! What’s so special about a whiny bitch like him?” Shigaraki growled. It was true- Stain dominated most of the reports, but it always mocked him. His ideals were ‘alright,’ but he was saying things everyone already knew, according to Midoriya in an interview. He was ‘just a sociopath desperate to get his name in history books.’

 “He had a goal,” Momo said, and Midoriya shook her head to prevent her from saying more. Sadly, Shigaraki seemed to take it to heart, a gruesome smile on his face.

 “A goal, huh? I can think of some…” he grinned further and then ran right at a civilian. Midoriya had to move, the scarf under her jacket coming out, and all Momo could think was she messed up.

 Again.

(”He got away. I was trying to get civilians out of the way while keeping back.” Izumi told the officer. “Looks like he got his fingers grafted back on. No signs if they work or not.”

 “Understood. Thanks, Trash Panda,” the man said before leaving. Izumi turned to see Yaoyorozu sitting at a table, looking upset.

 “It's not your fault,” Izumi told the girl, approaching the table.

 “I suggested a goal. He's now going to use that, won't he?” Yaoyorozu whimpered.

 “He was always going to do something,” Izumi said as she sat at the table.

 “But I-”

 “Said something dumb to a villain. It happens.” Izumi told Yaoyorozu, who still looked upset. “Know how Toga got caught? I told her she was cute, and she stalked me for a week.”

 “Oh.” Yaoyorozu looked a bit better after that. Izumi hesitated before asking softly,

 “Hey, this… mall thing was a bust. After the camp and my licensing exam, do you want to come back? As an actual date?” Izumi asked. Yaoyorozu smiled at her, eyes shining.

 “Yes. I'd like that.” the girl said. Izumi smiled, reaching out to touch the other’s hand.

 Despite everything, it had been a good day.)

-0-

 A promise of a date made Momo feel like she was floating in the weeks before the training camp. She kept smiling and giggling, which made her friends laugh.

 “You'd think you guys had a make-out session rather than just a promised date,” Uraraka joked as they left the pool. The girl had gotten permission to use it for recreational purposes. Apparently, the guys had decided to rent it the next day for some training, though Kaminari apparently made comments about swimsuits he was told off for. He hadn't meant anything bad, but he did feel awful when it was pointed out how the comments could be seen.

 “I bet she hopes it happens,” Jirou teased. Momo went red and shook her head.

 “I’d rather not talk about it right now,” she said. Tsu nodded and got the other girls off her case as Ashido frowned.

 “You know we don't hang around each other all that much. You four are friends more than us,” she motioned to Hagakure and herself.

 “Well, I just kind of fell into that dynamic,” Uraraka shrugged. “We hang out with Midoriya a lot too.”

 “And I hung out with blasty. Usually against my will, but because I worried for Kiri.” Ashido sighed.

 “And I'm getting over some issues. Midoriya is nice and kind, but a part of my brain mutters that she doesn't deserve to be here,” Hagakure offered. “Blame my parents and me being a bit jealous she got so far when I've always believed that at least I have a Quirk compared to people like her.”

 “Oh,” Momo hadn't even realized Hagakure felt that way until now.

 “You’re good at keeping it to yourself, ribbit,” Tsu said.

 “I’m aware it's a Quirkist thought, even if it's hard to get rid of. So I try to overcome the thoughts before I put my foot in them, you know,” Hagakure said.

 “That’s very mature of you,” Uraraka said as they headed through the school. They passed by other students, such as Hatume, Shinsou, and Toga, who were all in school doing extra work. However, The sound of blasts made them look into a gym to find Bakugou blasting apart dummies. They traded looks.

 The explosive reaction from Bakugou that he had failed was fresh in their minds. He had screamed, threatened and tried to attack Midoriya multiple times. So, the girl tried to leave quickly, but Bakugou seemed to have sensed they were there.

 “Oi!” he shouted. He stomped towards them. “Ponytail! Round face! Frogger! Where the fuck is Deku?”

 “Midoriya is not here; she is with Aizawa-sensei,” Momo said stiffly.

 “Fucking… well, where is HE?” Bakugou snarled. “I’m sick of this game! Haha, real funny pretending I didn’t pass. She’s just pissed I called her out on faking being gay!”

 “Faking being gay?” Uraraka asked. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

 “She has to be. Nothing is working out like it should! I’m supposed to be number one, with everyone just pebbles in my path. I’m supposed to be the best!” he shouted. “She was nothing but my childhood sweetheart! A pebble I overcame, someone who had to realize she needed me to protect her!”

 “You’re crazy,” Ashido said. “You failed the final because you couldn’t work with someone for five minutes, and Todoroki failed for only using half his Quirk. We all know that. You’re just pissed because poor little Bakugou isn’t the great hero his mommy told him he’d be.” she sneered.

 “None of this makes sense!” Bakugou looked desperate, and Momo realized what was happening.

 “It doesn't to you, but it does to everyone else,” she said out loud. “You aren't the top dog of the hero department. You're just like everyone else here, except you assumed you'd be better. And now that the truth is in your face, you can't handle being wrong because it means you're the villain.”

 “I’m not a villain!” Bakugou screamed.

 “You are to Midoriya in a way. You are to the others you bullied. You are to me at least a criminal with your abusive attitude,” Momo responded calmly. “You're no hero, Bakugou. And I doubt anyone wants you to be right now.”

 “I don't,” Ashido snorted. “I barely could stand him even when Kiri brought him around.”

 “Me either.” Tsu shook her head. Uraraka made a face while Hagakure raised her hands. Bakugou just looked at them, genuinely seeing their reactions and only looking lost.

 He didn't understand, Momo knew. He didn't realize what he'd done wrong, not because he didn't think he had done it wrong but because he wasn't being allowed to do it. Double standards had always applied to him, and he'd been happy.

 Yet when the actual consequences came about, he was a little five-year-old boy unable to understand why he was in trouble, so he kept doing the same thing. It was all he knew despite knowing it was wrong.

 Momo looked at the boy and saw what Midoriya saw. Potential if he could get his head out of his ass. She didn't say that, though, knowing in her heart he'd take it as a sign Midoriya was, in fact, bisexual or something.

 That was confusing to her. How he just decided she had to be lying. It seemed less like he was unable to understand the consequences and more like he was rejecting reality, which was worrying…

 Momo walked away from Bakugou before any more conversation could occur, pulling her phone out to text Midoriya. She should know what happened.

 (”Mrs. Bakugou-”

 “I want to hear from her myself!” The woman's loud shriek finally made Izumi snap, coupled with the text she had just received. Izumi stomped out of the office to find the Bakugou adults facing Nezu and Snipe. The two had been trying to calm them down.

 “I want no contact with you,” Izumi said instantly. “I never liked either of you with how you treated my mother and how you ignored any sign my father was a bad person because it benefited you. I am gay, I refuse to even consider a fucking surrogate contract with your son, and I want nothing to do with any of you.”

 “Inko was my best friend-” Mitsuki began, but Izumi snorted.

 “You only bothered with her because she was the only girl too spineless to tell you fuck off. She told me all the stories of your childhood. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and your son is just like you. A brat who doesn't take ‘no, you aren't the best’ as an answer.” Izumi looked to Masaru, whose face was blank. “And you. You consistently put my mother down all her life because you were convinced there had to be something wrong with her for having a Quirkless child. Of course, if it could benefit your son, you were happy to have me around. A strong grandchild was in your future with me, wasn't it?” she sneered.

 “Do not take that tone with us, young lady,” Mitsuki snapped.

 “Don't take that tone with me, Mrs. Bakugou. I'm the apprentice who failed your son despite you both trying to cheat for him. Nezu monitors ALL cell phone usage on campus, as stated in the forms you signed. He knew exactly when you texted Bakugou after we contacted you about the exam.” Izumi held their gaze even as they tried to look away. “You all had the perfect plan. A son who becomes a hero rising from a shitty school. A mother too much like him for some light drama. A girl to be the childhood sweetheart. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you knew Hisashi was abusive. I'll give that you were unaware he murdered my mother, but I don't doubt you had some plan concocted about Bakugou saving me from my father.”

 Their faces gave it away. Izumi shook her head, turning away. “If you cared for my mother, Mitsuki, I know she would hate you.”

 Izumi left the group to head to the staff room, where Toshinori and Tenya were waiting. She wordlessly sat in her cousin’s lap and hugged him. Tenya hugged back without a word. Izumi buried her face into his neck, holding tight. The two men kept talking, simply letting Izumi seek out the comfort she needed after that moment.

 The door opened a while later, and Shouta came in to sit beside Tenya. “Feeling verbal?” he asked Izumi.

 She shook her head. It had taken everything to sound clear with Mitsuki and Masaru. She looked at two people she remembered who had been part of the hurt, even if they weren't the hurt itself. Now, her tongue felt heavy and odd in her mouth. Like talking with it would cause pain. Along with that, her jaw ached with the familiar sensation that came from overspeaking on bad days. She hugged Tenya tighter.

  She had been scared of how to act around Tenya for the first few months of his presence. At least until that day, he'd gotten into a fistfight with a fellow student who had been mocking Izumi using signs when her mouth wasn't working. Tenya had gotten in so much trouble, but it also led to this: Izumi sitting in his lap to hug him.

 When Tenya needed it, he'd lay his head on her lap, letting her play with his hair. They had gone from awkward people to close-contact cousins reasonably fast. More so when Izumi helped him admit to the abuse from his parents, Tensei took him in, but the guy didn't know how to react to the realization the parents he’d adored could harm their youngest so much. Izumi could understand, though. So could Shouta and Hizashi. Info Dropper, too, but their support had been distant, and Nemuri had been struggling with her demons at the time, her oldest friends finally cutting her off for a while when she crossed a line concerning their new ward.

  Things worked out in the end: Nemuri got help, Info Dropper moved back to Japan to be a ‘divorced couple child Hero,’ spending six months in Canada before going to Japan for the rest of the year, and Tensei got his head on straight. But it built a strong bond between the two teens.

 Izumi squeezed Tenya before pulling away to sign to the men, “I just need a day, I think. I can't lose focus with the exam next month after camp.”

 “No, you can't.” Shouta agreed. “Maybe you shouldn't come…”

 “I want to come. Kouta needs someone who doesn't go on about the duty of a hero around, and I know you'll push too hard with a student and fuck up,” Izumi said, her hands moving quickly.

 “And you want to see Yaoyorozu,” Tenya teased. Izumi pinched him for that, making him pout. “Rude.”

 “How is the young lady?” Toshinori asked with a smirk, making Izumi pout as Shouta laughed.

 They were all mean. Where was Zizi… Actually, no, they'd make it worse. Nevermind.)

-0-

 Momo knew not to expect favouritism from Midoriya or Aizawa, but she did not like being thrown off a cliff.

 “This is fun,” Monoma grumbled as he grabbed Todoroki’s hand to use his Quirk, fire and ice flashing. The dual-haired boy looked annoyed upon seeing that, and Momo wondered what the plan was with him before she had to refocus on the monsters they were facing.

 Getting through the forest took hours, and when they finally made it, they found Midoriya waiting for them while playing a game with a little boy.

 “You guys made it earlier than the Pussycats were betting,” she said upon seeing them. “By about an hour.”

 “That was awful,” Uraraka and Ashido complained.

 “Plus ultra,” Midoriya replied with a grin. There was laughter among the class, and Momo easily fell into line with Midoriya, leading them to an eating area where a tired 1B sat. “They had a different route. ID is just as evil as my uncle.” Midoriya said.

 “Thanks, kid,” the hero said as they approached. A combat vest and a metal mask replaced their usual jacket and face mask. I'm glad I got to terrify my students a little.”

 “What did they do?” Momo asked Midoriya as the hero walked away.

“Paintball gun and kept ahead. Plus, Tiger was acting as an opponent,” Midoriya said. “They're terrifying with a gun.”

 “They are,” Tenya said. “I'm happy they are marrying Tensei, but being related to them is terrifying.”

 The class laughed and headed to eat, Midoriya walking with Momo. The boy was still there and eyeing the taller girl suspiciously.

 “Yaoyorozu, this is Kouta. Kouta, this is my… almost girlfriend Yaoyorozu.” Midoriya introduced them. Momo flushed, pleased upon hearing those words.

 “Almost girlfriend?” the boy asked, squinting at Momo.

 “We can’t date until I become a sidekick,” Midoriya told the boy who scowled. “Kouta…”

 “Heroes are stupid,” he grumbled but didn’t leave. Momo decided not to ignore him but to focus on Midoriya. She was a much better topic to focus on.

(“You ready for this?” Izumi asked Dabi, who scowled.

 “Fuck no,” he grunted. The burned man glared at his hands as he waited in the small room set aside for this moment. Hawks had finally convinced him that Endeavour needed to be called out properly, and Z had also agreed. But Dabi hadn’t wanted to make this move. Even if everyone said he should.

 “You both need closure,” Izumi told the man, who gave her a dirty look she ignored.

 The door opened, and a sullen-looking Todoroki walked in. Aizawa was with him and looked at how Izumi felt.

 Very nervous.

 “What’s going on?” Todoroki asked, glaring a little. Still upset he was failed then. Endeavour had been furious he failed, and while they signed him up for extra lessons, both Izumi and Shouta worried that the hero would take his anger out on the boy. Yet Todoroki had honestly failed. No amount of talking or lessons had gotten through his head. Now, he was paying the price.

 “Endeavour is about to be exposed for abuse,” Dabi said bluntly. “I gave them the info.” Todoroki stared at the man in shock.

 “How… he’s rich. It’s his word against mine.” Todoroki shook his head.

 “I have the backing of Hawks, other heroes and a mercenary who had previously worked as an assassin for Endeavour. He will go down even if we don’t get your testimony.” Dabi said casually.

 “Who are you?” Todoroki stared at the man as Izumi edged her way out of the room, not wanting to be in the front seat of this family drama.

 “Don’t recognize me, little brother?” Dabi said as Izumi left. Shouta joined her, and they hung outside the room, ears open for anything other than the yelling.

 “The Bakugous tried to have me investigated,” Shouta told Izumi casually.

 “What is with all the drama recently,” grumbled the teenager, shaking her head. “The final exam, the mall crap, this and then Bakugous? I’m going insane.”

 “With them, I think it’s a last-ditch effort, so they don’t have to admit they’re wrong. The mall was because Shigaraki is a villain. This is because Dabi needed years of therapy and medication, so his brain chemistry stopped being fucked,” snorted Shouta.

 “I’m pretty sure, as a teacher, you shouldn’t say that.”

 “I’m certain that as the guy who has dealt with Dabi before because he’s friends with you, I can say what I want,” Shouta muttered. There was shouting, and both tensed up before it quieted. “If this doesn’t work, Todoroki is out of the program.”

 “It will work. Either this or something happens where he doesn’t use his fire and gets reamed out,” Izumi shrugged. Are you okay with me dating Yaoyorozu?” Izumi asked.

 “I think I have no say in who you date,” Shouta said. “But I do approve. She’s a good kid.”

 “She’s nice. I told her about Hisashi, and she didn’t treat me differently.” Izumi smiled to herself. “I really like her.”

 “I’m glad. You deserve happiness,” her uncle said, and Izumi smiled up at him, eyes twinkling.

 It was a good day, even with the drama occurring behind them, which wasn’t solved. Todoroki was surprisingly hard-headed, and Dabi could not get it through his skull that all he was doing was hurting himself.

 Izumi sighed, wondering what would break that final barrier.)

-0-

 There was ice everywhere. One of the 1B students had turned into mud, revealing herself as Toga before she launched herself at Midoriya. The two toppled into the forest as gas filled the air. Momo had managed to get gas masks on but couldn’t chase after the two. Then the ice came. Thick walls forced them to run through a maze or break them down.

 Momo could only run with the boy from 1B, Awase, dragging the unconscious bodies of classmates with them. It was terrifying and dangerous and-

 Midoirya was there, kicking Toga away with a snarl. “I knew not to trust you.” Midoriya snapped.

 “Oh, come on, Izu-chan!” Toga whined. “We can be happy together!”

 “Go shit yourself,” Midoriya sneered, and then she tumbled off, still fighting with Toga. Momo looked after the two, longing to follow her, but shook her head.

 Rescue first, combat second. They’d been taught that ages ago. Rescue first, combat second.

 Rescue…

 But the rescue desperately needed Momo would learn a day later, after she’d managed to land a tracker on a Nomu and wake up after falling unconscious, came late.

 Midoriya had been kidnapped.

 And it was all Todoroki’s fault.

(Izumi couldn’t blame the kid. He was technically a bit older than her, but he was a kid despite everything. She couldn’t blame him for being unable to summon the fire he’d suppressed for so long. She really couldn’t.

 She could still be angry, though more so as she sat in a dingy bar glaring at the League of Villains who’d kidnapped her. Toga luckily had been pried off by a woman named Magne, who seemed disturbed by Toga’s antics.

 Good.

 “Jack off with your Quirk active,” she told Shigaraki when he tried to speak to her. “Or suck a boil filled with puss and let it explode in your mouth.”

 “What the fuck?” Shigaraki asked as the green guy- Spinner apparently- snorted. He looked very uncomfortable being there. Given how he was dressed, Izumi pegged him to be a Stain groupie. Even after her loud dressing down of the man, he was still liked for some reason.

 The ice maker was some guy with white hair in a blue coat. He glared at Shigaraki, so Izumi bet there was little love there.

 Mr. Compress, a petty thief she recognized from Nezu’s files, was there, which was baffling. But what was most shocking was the blue-haired woman blowing a bubble with her gum.

 It was Z. Dabi and Hawks’ sort of girlfriend? Their lover? Their hook-up? Izumi didn’t know. The woman looked bored, and Izumi felt angry as she stared at the woman, at least until she blinked rapidly.

 A code. Help was coming. Izumi only felt relief then and settled in to listen to the sales pitch: ‘Hey, so actually, you should join us, and we can give you a Quirk.’

 Boring.)

-0-

 Momo punched Todoroki as soon as she saw him outside the hospital, daring to want to help.

 “This is your fault!” she screamed at him.

 “I know,” he said.

 “You KNOW? You think KNOWING makes it better?” Momo raged. “I don’t care WHY you felt the need to hold back your Quirk, but whatever it was, it was garbage!”

 “My father bought my mother like a broodmare to have me,” Todoroki snapped. The others, who had been eyeing him darkly, paused. “I have faced pain and abuse for years at his hands as he tried to mould me into the perfect hero to surpass All Might. I never wanted to use his fire-”

 “My mother starved me half to death and used to torture me emotionally,” Momo hissed. “We all know Midoriya faced abuse. I bet half of us have similar stories, so don’t dare hide behind your claims as a way of going ‘not my fault.’” Todoroki looked down before looking up.

 “I’m trying not to,” he said. Momo glared, but in the end, they all headed out together. Or at least they tried. Dabi appeared before they got to the train station, along with Hawks. All the students froze.

 “None of you should be here,” said Hawks in a firm tone.

 “How did…” Iida trailed off, looking nervous as he stood with Todoroki, Momo, Kirishima and Uraraka.

 “Yaoyorozu checked out against medical orders, and we checked the find your phone app your brother has,” Hawks told the teen. “We have people in place to rescue Trash Panda, including an undercover agent. You will just get in the way.”

 “But we can’t leave Midoriya!” Momo said.

 “It’s my fault, I-” Todoroki began, but Dabi interrupted him.

 “Fuck that. Look, Shouto, it’s not fully your fault. I was there, too, and my flames burned hotter. I was just too late to melt all the walls so Aizawa could get to the brat,” the scarred man said bluntly. “Should you be using your Quirk? Yes. And I hope this is a damn good lesson on that, having Izumi be kidnapped.”

 “You don’t like me, Touya,” Todoroki said.

 “True, but I have an excuse of borderline personality and anti-social personality disorder going on for why I hate you. Not you being a dumbass about your Quirk,” Dabi said. “Grow the fuck up and stop thinking you’re more important than you are.”

 “All of you go home,” Hawks said. Momo glared at the two, not wanting to obey. But what choice did they have?

 Momo went home to her father, who scolded her and wrapped her up in blankets, letting her watch the news where Info Dropper was acting as UA’s voice, speaking of the situation.

 “Do you think Trash Panda will join the Leauge?” asked one reporter- that blue-skinned woman who seemed to have it out for Midoriya being Quirkless.

 “I think that’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.” ID said bluntly. “I have seen that girl help rehabilitate a man who was almost too far gone. I have seen that girl shoulder a burden with a friend and keep walking. I have seen that girl set her jaw and force herself forward. I have seen that girl learn to speak clearly after a terrible event. That girl has every reason to go villain I know. But she won’t. She is too good to do it, too kind and too strong. She’d rather die first, and to assume otherwise would be to admit you have a set of prejudices that makes you want to think she will.”

 Momo smiled, watching the news. At least until it changed to show a battleground with the green hair of Midoriya running around. Her stomach tightened and Momo could not look away.

(Izumi ducked under a swing from Toga, slamming a smoke bomb filled with Midnight’s gas down before leaping away. Z was shooting at Magne and Spinner, the supplies the mercenary had handed Izumi the first thing she did.

 Izumi appreciated it as she dodged Shigaraki. This would be worse without the supplies. She didn’t know how long Z had been working with the villains, but their shock she changed sides was pretty funny.

 “We could have given you anything!” Shigaraki was screaming.

 “I don’t need a damn Quirk to be complete,” Z snarled and oh, that was a thing of beauty that shot. Shigaraki stumbled back with the wound in his shoulder, Z taking a second to shoot the villain before concentrating on her targets.

 Izumi took advantage to yank out another smoke bomb, dancing away from the fumes while he fell. That was when All for One noticed the other fighting.

 “NO!” he shouted. He would have gone after Izumi if All Might hadn’t intervened, kicking him away. Izumi moved to attack Mr. Compress, focusing on her own fights.

 She would never know that many lives would be saved. She would never know what the future could have been if Shigaraki had escaped. She would never see a war that claimed lives. Never hear an apology half meant from a boy who tormented her once.

 Izumi simply fought.)

-0-

 Midoriya showed up at Momo’s home three weeks after everything. She looked tired but smiled upon seeing the other girl. She held up a license.

 “It’s official. I’m working with Nezu now strictly on heroics. No school stuff.” Midoriya said. Momo smiled and… well…

 They both had been waiting for that kiss.

#bnha #bnha au #female izuku midoriya #dekumomo #gaaaaaay #they're lesbians #authors note incoming later #this is a giant ass one shot #happy pride #Midoriya Izuku #momo yaoyorozu

[cypherthesuccubus]

Dirty Little Secret

Alastor x Lucifer/ RadioApple -Part 3- (NSFW) (MDNI)

Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn, eventual smut, cock worship, glory hole, enemies to lovers, murder, blood kink, bondage, tentacles, marking, breeding kink, size kink, S&M, Dom/Sub, switch, facial

Other Tags: Fluff and Angst

Aftercare forever!!✨

Part 3 has arrived!!! Things are getting rather interesting. Wonder what’s in store for these two.~ 🤭💕✨

Passing through the threshold of the hallway entry, Alastor takes notice of the door that says “Private” right away; it’s the only door facing him all the way at the very end . Miss Jackie certainly wasn’t lying about not missing it. He slowly makes his way down the corridor; taking glances at the other doors he was passing. Each one labeled the same name with a paired number of the room next to it, specifically named “Glory”. Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what this entails specifically, but he still felt anxious just to be walking down this hallway. “I really hope this was worth the aggravation getting here.” He thought to himself as he finally reaches the designated door.

He felt his heart beat increase, which rarely ever happens to him; thus almost putting him in a state of panic. Why was he acting like this? This is literally just Lucifer!! He honestly can’t grasp this predicament. Alastor?!; Getting nervous over a buffoon?! He had to hold back a laugh from how absurd this was. He slowly grabs the door knob; twisting it as he fully opens the door as he intakes the scene. The walls were tiled in a dark gray as the floor was tiled in white; leaving the two spacious stalls in the middle of the room that were matte black. For whatever this is, it was surprisingly clean for a place in a night club setting. “I heard you open the door. Come in already, silly.” Lucifer snaps him out of his thoughts as he hesitantly steps inside; the door closing behind him as it auto locks itself. “Well, don’t be shy.~ Go ahead and take the right stall for me, please.”

Alastor slowly steps towards the adjacent stall; his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he reaches for the handle of the stall. He pauses as the tips of his claws gently brush against the handle; swallowing a lump in his throat as his hand starts to slightly tremble. Why was he so nervous?! He couldn’t understand why this short stack of a king was making him so frazzled. He usually is composed around the buffoon, but at this moment, he has broken out in a sweat for no reason. At least, no reason at the moment. “Everything ok? Wait, let me guess. First time?” Alastor takes a breath as he turns off the radio effect one more time. “Y-yes…it is.” He hears Lucifer chuckle from his response. “It’s ok, I completely understand. But don’t worry. I promise I’ll take real good care of you.~”

Alastor takes another breath as he slowly opens the stall door; stepping inside as he closes the door behind him. As expected, there was indeed a functional toilet along with the amenities necessary. Except for a rather decent sized hole in the wall that was conjoining the two stalls together. “Good boy.~ Now, stand in front of the hole so I can see what you’re working with.~” Alastor starts the breath heavily as he slowly approaches the hole. He places his hands on the wall so they are not in view, as he is standing inches in front of the hole. His pelvis is the only visible thing to see through the gap. Lucifer hums pleasantly; grinning seductively as he likes what he can see through the hole. “My my, such beautiful brown fur you have.~ And the way your v-line is showing is….so tasty.~”

Alastor’s breath hitches at these compliments; causing him to look down instantly as he feels a rush of blood go straight into his crotch. He has only felt this feeling a few times in his youth when he was alive, but nothing has ever gone past that. He places his hand over his mask to suppress a gasp; watching his cock spring to life in his pants as it forms a tent. Alastor was taken aback by his body’s reaction to such mere words. He didn’t know if this was ok to feel like this, especially towards the short king himself. “Mmmm~, I see you really like compliments.~ Why don’t you whip that bad boy out for me.~” Alastor hesitates at first, but then takes his hand that covered his mask to slide down to the zipper of his pants.

He slowly pulls the zipper down fully as he unfastens the button at the top. Lucifer licks his lips in anticipation to see what this cute stranger has to offer. Slowly, Alastor finally pushes his red boxer briefs down; letting his throbbing cock spring free from its confinement. He hissed slightly from the cold air hitting his sensitive area; causing a slight shiver to run up his spine. “Very goood.~ Now, bring yourself into the hole so I can get a better view.~” Lucifer mused as he watches the stranger slowly puts himself through the hole; his own cock twitching against the confines of his leather shorts. He was in awe by the monster that was presented to him. It pulsated ever so nicely for him; thinking if he will be able to take it all in his throat.

Lucifer tenderly grabs the base of this man’s cock; pressing his cheek against the side of the shaft as he makes it slap his face a couple of times in a playful manner. “You know, I gotta be honest, you have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever laid eyes on.~” He gives the underside tender kisses all the up to the tip; giving the slit a small lick. Alastor bucks his hips in response; biting his lip under the mask in which he takes off so he can breathe properly. Looks like the king himself was a tease in more ways than one. “So eager, aren’t we?~ Don’t worry, I’m gonna appreciate this gorgeous cock….properly.~”

Back at the reception desk, the front doors busted open by a group of lone sharks; immediately spotting the one that was killed by Alastor awhile ago. “In here sir!” One of the lone sharks pointed to the body as a small imp with a zig zag like tail walks into view; taking a puff of his cigar as he looks down at the body and mutters. “So this is why the bastard wasn’t answering my calls.” The imp turns to the receptionist behind the desk; quickly making his way up to the counter as he slams his fists down hard. This in turn makes her jump in shock, as she was too busy scrolling on her phone to notice what was happening. “Hey sweetheart, can you kindly tell me who was the low life dog that decided it was a good idea to fuck with me?”

She looks around at the group of lone sharks behind him; stuttering as she’s trying to find the words to say in this situation. “L-look I don’t want any trouble, b-but I can’t give any client information like th-.” She gets cut off as one of the lone sharks walks up to the counter; point the barrel of a gun right into her forehead. The imp takes another puff of his cigar; blowing the smoke in her direction as she coughs from the smell of it. “I don’t think you want to play that game with me, sweetheart.” He then puts his cigar out on the counter; burning a hole into the wood as he leans close to face her. She trembles as she swallows hard; hearing the weapon click in the lone shark’s hand. “Tell me who did it, or you’re gonna be the next person to be thrown in the river.”

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer smut #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x lucifer #radioapple #appleradio #radioapple smut #18+ content #18+ only #18+ mdni #18+ account #18+ post #18+ blog

[zeldas-hair-pins]

I’m working on a short fic of people in the Chain wondering how old Legend is, and I actually really enjoy this scene so I’m just going to post it here because I can.

This part is from Four’s perspective and mostly focusing on Legend being kind of childish, it honestly doesn’t touch on the original theme too much but I think it’s fun anyway, Twas also good practice for learning to write these characters

“Hey Legend! Wanna play marbles?” Four called across the mostly empty campsite. Most of the adults had cleared out a few minutes ago to make a quick trip into town. After the first few times the large group had; gotten lost, overwhelmed, or haggled too aggressively with the vendors it had been decided that the younger members of the group plus Legend (for said very aggressive haggling that had almost ended in blows twice) would have to wait outside for them to get back with supplies.

Four didn’t necessarily appreciate being lumped into the less town savvy part of the group, he’d grown up in Castletown for Hylia’s sake why did the goat herd get to go in? But he could admit that picking a fight with a badly made sword he’d seen in a shop window probably wasn’t the best move to make if he wanted to be treated like an adult. So him Wild Hyrule and Wind were sitting around a roughly drawn circle in the dirt arranging his marbles into an ‘x’ shape.

Legend who was leaning against a tree looking mildly pissed about being assigned babysitter and tuning his fiddle looked up with a neutral expression. “I’m not a child, Four.”

Four rolled his eyes, “Come’on there’s nothing better to do while we wait, I literally saw you tuning that yesterday.”

Legend narrowed his eyes but before he could open his mouth Wind shouted, “Don’t think you can win?”

Legend’s ears flicked back a bit, “Are you challenging me Sailor?”

���Yeah! I bet you twenty rupees I’ll beat your sorry ass.” Wind puffed his chest out and smirked.

Legend’s smile was downright devious as he put his fiddle aside and stepped up to the ring, sitting down carefully as his knees cracked way too loudly to be healthy and picked up the shooter marble twirling it in his thin fingers to feel the weight and motioned Wind to take the first move.

About an hour later Four sat next to Wild and Hyrule on a log playing a card guessing game when the rest of the Chain meandered back into camp with supplies.

No one spoke as they took in the cursing and marble battle Legend and Wind were engaged in. Four glanced up and saw Sky pale slightly at the toe curling and honestly impressively creative insults the two blonds taking turns tossing marbles in a ring were trading.

The first one to move was Wars who sidled up next to Four and his peaceful card game and asked, “What the fuck happend while we were gone?”

“Oh them? Wind challenged Legend to a game of marbles, made a bet and everything.”

“And? That doesn’t explain this.”

“Legend hasn’t lost a single round yet, the Sailor is determined to win his rupees back, the odds aren’t in his favor so far.”

“Ah,” Warriors said lightly. The Captain slowly backed away, whispered something to Time and retreated to the far side of camp with the rest of the newcomers obviously not willing to get involved in the beat down going on.

Four just thought it was nice to see Legend engaging in a game he obviously was having fun with, even if it was at Wind’s wallet’s expense. He was always so gloomy, he probably hadn’t even realized that this had all been the Sailors plan from the beginning, to get him to lighten up a bit. Though the young teenager might have underestimated Legend’s skill for playing marbles.

Eh, had nothing to do with Four, not his problem.

#let me know how i did with all the characterizations #I tried but if i completely messed up let me know #also I think that four would love marbles (the game you can look up how it works) #I especially think the colors would enjoy it #loz #linked universe #four Lu #wind Lu #legend Lu #fanfic #fanfic snippet #fluff #warriors lu #also legend is so good at it because it’s fables favorite game #so nearly everytime he sees her they play a few rounds while catching up

[galacticlamps]

actually ascension needs its own post since that's the one with the most details to speculate over and im starved for soho talk so i will talk to myself if need be

First the cover again, because I kinda can't get over it:

my only thing is that I had been hoping we might get Lizbeth on a cover again since she's never been on one of the boxsets before, despite being the 2nd person credited on all 4 of them (even if that's just alphabetical, still, she's the only one of the four main characters who never makes the cover)

But letting that go...

I know we already kinda knew the brief for this one but damn I didn't expect it to go quite this hard. Maybe that's just because the Parasite & Ashenden covers were (comparatively) similarish to each other and I was so pleased with Unbegotten's, and then got so used to it as the placeholder for Ascension while they kept postponing it, I wasn't expecting anything this colorful or detailed or with what I can't help but register as Fun New Outfits even though these are still like, pretty damn basic as far as costumes go. Still, it's a different vibe from everyone in suits and trenchcoats on every cover, technically. (Oh the woes of being an audio fan such that two characters owning sweaters actually does qualify as new information)

On top of just being visually delightful though, I know we knew religion was gonna be a fairly big part of this one, but I didn't actually expect to get quite this much of it - though I'm glad of it for a number of reasons. The BF twitter already made the ineffable joke so I don't have to, but also yeah I did very much spend all of season 2 episode 4 of good omens half convinced Samuel Barnett & Dervla Kirwan were about to pop up around any given corner (if you will go around being gay supernatural and horrible at your messy bureaucratic jobs in midcentury soho then I'm sorry, this is where my brain's gonna go) - so, fuel to that fire. But in terms of actual important things, at least one of my Soho wishes looks to be being granted because we have a Rev Edward Folgate on the cast list, which must mean we're finally meeting Norton's father, even if his mother & brother don't appear (which they could, technically, I've definitely seen BF not list all the doublings on their cast tabs before). Religion, domesticity, and the nuclear family are all things that absolutely fascinate me when it comes to Norton's character, so getting any amount of story involving his father & his church is something I've been actively hoping for for a long time now.

(I will say I'm a tiny bit bummed Saffron Coomber isn't on the cast list to play Mia again, but I kinda figured she wasn't going to be since Greg Austin's Armitage, who's making his first recurring appearance after originating in Unbegotten, was listed ever since the boxset was announced - presumably if she was also returning, that would've been handled in the same way. But since Unbegotten ended with Lizbeth and Mia going on a date, I still held out hope. Who knows though, maybe things did go well for them and Lizbeth just has a better work/life balance than Norton so she can date someone without them getting dragged into every scifi plot. I know that's not a very common accomplishment for any Torchwood agent, but a gal can hope)

At this point I know I'm completely in the realm of speculation & even wishful thinking, but I'm really really hoping we get some more clues as to Norton's overall timeline in this one, and I have a feeling that even if there's nothing as direct as dates given, the events of a plot like this one are going to heavily influence my personal interpretation of it.

To say that life & death are major themes for the soho crew feels wildly reductive, but even by Torchwood's standards and taking into account its origins as a piece of media with Jack Harkness & his newfound immortality at the heart of it, the living/dead status of this bunch has always been fantastically up in the air to me. Obviously Ghost Mission introduced Norton as kind of a ghost before revealing more obvious ghostly characters later on to which the title might have been referring, but his being from the past did beg the question of his survival into Torchwood's present era all the same, which Outbreak later alludes to much more directly, and his habit of showing up via hologram in multiple stories only further obfuscates any certainty we might have about where & when he definitely can be said to be alive and well. Then you've got Lizbeth and Gideon both being effectively 'brought back to life' via paradoxes that prevented them ever having died in the first place. Again, they are very very far from being the only Torcwhood characters this happens to (for a sprawling EU, it's really rather impressive how often & in how many different ways Torchwood as a whole manages to circle back to being about like. chaotic undead queers at the end of every day. though I suppose that consistency is part of why I keep falling in love with its different iterations again and again). That's without even getting into the question of Norton's dubious fate in God Among Us - and I say dubious because I know some people take that to be his ultimate death, but I personally think that reading something as vague as that as having any kind of finality rather goes against the spirit of this whole world/series, not just because I want him to live. (There are obviously other ways to make him survive/reappear, but I don't see this as a River Song scenario where we can safely assume one of his earlier-released adventures had to happen at the end of his personal timeline). But wherever God Among Us falls for him, he does very much meet God in it - or at least, a god, since the sentinel in Unbegotten is also described as a god of sorts, and even if he doesn't ultimately have the status of the god Jacqueline King is playing there, Unbegotten is still full to bursting with ghosts/undead/came back wrong/echo characters to continue underscoring that life/afterlife theme.

So all things considered, even allowing for the fact that we know Norton's twin hobbies are lying about himself and abusing time travel to suit his own ends/ever-shifting alliances, I find it difficult to believe we could get through a whole 6-part boxset about religion & death without something providing some kind of compelling evidence about where this adventure fits in among his other run-ins with apocalypses and gods and ghosts and dead-but-still-here characters/creatures, so I'm very much looking forward to any further exploration on that front.

And lastly, and least intellectually, I really want to know what the hell 20th-century Torchwood's obsession with Reginalds is. Reading through the cast list, I had to do two separate doubletakes over the character 'Sir Reginald Peebles' - firstly, because I had Reginald Rigsby on the brain, this being Soho (and the other Troughton brother being so active on BF's releases for this same month) - and secondly, because reading this in conjunction with the announcement for the July monthly adventure in which the new main Torchwood guy of the 20s is apparently called Sir Reginald Dellafield, there was a brief moment where I took that monthly release to be a tie-in with Ascension. I don't expect it to be, but damn. was it really so popular a name?

anyways, catch me thinking about those stained glass windows for the next couple months I guess (and knowing Torchwood Soho, for a long long time after it comes out as well lol)

#torchwood soho: ascension #let's start with the most obvious shall we? behind norton - hellfire or divine radiance? whadda we think? #i know one's much more likely for him but also consider: he's been a fairly good boy by norton standards anyway lately #well i say 'lately' like i know when this takes place #idk why but i kinda feel like this starts very soon after unbegotten #comedy is probably why honestly. since that ends with them being like hey! something went right! #i think ever since i first heard that i was like ok cool so the next installment's gonna be something earth shatteringly bad #& it's gonna kick off dramatically literally one second after this scene ends right? #not that it wouldnt be nice to have some (clearly-defined) timeskip there #tbh i feel like that's the one thing that's missing with soho sometimes - those little medium-sized gaps in continuity #where either speculation or even a missing scenes style fic would go #between parasite & ashenden lizbeth was dead and andy wasnt in the right era for soho shenanigans #and norton and gideon went through SO much offscreen (offmic?) #rebuilding torchwood and starting a relationship and breaking up and getting possessed by space eels and destroying torchwood again #that's like... Too Much to analyze/meaningfully discuss without a few more details from canon #and between Ashenden & Unbegotten it's very unclear how much time has passed #norton certainly seems affected when he sees gideon again for the first time but we also know he went there for him so how long was it? #that and we have literally zero explanation for what andy's doing in the 50s in that one to begin with. has he been there continuously? #or did he leave and come back? if so did norton even have to try justifying it to him? #or does andy just accept at this point that he'll be summoned for anything norton feels is noteworthy? honestly either's plausible w him #but also we have so little confirmed about what torchwood looks like at this point in time! #maybe andy gets summoned for all missions bc he norton and lizbeth are virtually the only agents left after gideon quits #there's just a few too many things unexplained/alluded to for me to go total total fandom mode on this #speculating & theorizing about everything that happens off-audio #doubtless this is mainly bc of norton's general untrustworthiness #like im sure a different main character would've left the audience with fewer uncertainties after this many hours of storytelling #but with soho im still left needing just a tiiiiiny bit more before i feel im knowledgeable enough about the situation to expand upon it #in the traditional fandomy 'transformative' way #right now most of my fanning over it is just speculation about what precisely we can be confident in from the dialogue we do have #but i'd like to go further than that truly. these characters captivate me. obviously.

[madigoround]

✌🏻

#so for my job I have to go to a lot of crime scenes and talk with witnesses blah blah blah a lot of the time it’s in an unsafe area and I #I always try to do my job in a safe way managing the different factors like timing but I always get the work done #so much so that last week I was asked to go canvas an area I had already been to to canvas five other times for a murder and had seen drug #deals and robbery and fights and all that go on while I was there #and I brought up that it wasn’t a good time for us to be there we weren’t safe at that time and I was told I needed to suck it up and do #what was needed for the case #flash forward to a few minutes ago my supervisor came to talk to me about another case #for a murder that I had previously talked about being upset about because I had walked by the place it happened 20 minutes before the murder #and was told that it doesn’t bother anyone else and basically to suck it up #so for this case the attorney had gone to my supervisor and told him that she thinks I’m ineffective at my job and she believes I’m afraid #to go out on the scene for investigative work because I’m a white girl #and my supervisor came to tell me that he’s going to be working with me on my cases for the time being to go out into the field and locate #witnesses and so on to show her that it doesn’t bother me and I’m not afraid #which like honestly all around this is fucking ridiculous I have done this job for nearly two years I have gone to the #site of multiple murders I have gone to witnesses addresses #I have been inside victims homes to talk with them all of this all alone #and honestly that attorney is a fucking bitch who has humiliated me for having feelings about cases before so it’s infuriating but hardly #surprising but the fact that my supervisor thought this was a legit enough concern to now go with me on my cases and go through all the #steps I’ve done and everything I just feel so disrespected and not valued #last week I took last minute leave because the cases were bothering me too much and everyone was telling me I needed to get over it and it #doesn’t bother them which like sorry but I feel like having to see someone’s brains on the pavement is upsetting #and it feels like I’m being edged out because I have human feelings about our cases #even though I have done this work and done it well for two years #I’m just really sad and angry about it

[icharchivist]

i have my grips with the anime but there’s really some scenes it completely nailed (like Itaru’s gamer reveal), and when i reach those specific scene in the VN i really can’t stop thinking about just how good the anime was for those scenes in particular.

Case in point right now: the moment they’re trying to give out flyers for RomeJuli in the street and no one is stopping, so Masumi ends up, unprompted, to act out one of the scene as to bring attention to it.

i’ve rewatched the anime so many times it actually surprised me how abrupt the transition from Flyers to “Masumi is acting” is, it’s nice but, man. 

The fact the anime really shows when it clicks for Masumi that it would work, then having him, in silence, give his flyers away so he can then focus on acting, and seeing Izumi and Sakuya look at him, perplexed, before he starts acting and they catch on on what he’s doing, makes it flow so much better

A3 is a VN that really utilize the VN format extremely well, so it’s not especially a tackle on the VN itself, and there’s really a few things i think the anime did considerably worse, but this scene? kind of justify the anime’s existence for a bit because just remembering it gives me chill. 

#one of the reason the spring chapter is probably the best adapted one in anime form #more than just 'it's shorter than the rest so they had less to cut' #is that the few things they did cut i did see myself go yeah yknow what that's a fine exclusion #i have much more problems with what they cut later on but in spring for the most part it's good decisions #(except like. removing Tsuzuru's RomeJuli's backstory explaination) #and in the end it's mostly because. All the changes to Spring? Specifically manage to give a better image of Masumi. #Like i do like to feed on the crumbs of Masumi-not-being-obsessed-with-Izumi we get #and we do get a lot of them actually!! at least in the main chap #(also like when it sinks him to him that Saku has Trauma:tm: and how he does talk it out with Citron in a caring manner) #but a lot of times bc of awkward pacing just like this one it doesn't really hit as well as it could #and i think it impacts how much harder it is to appreciate Massu #honestly the anime did a lot of work in trying to pace out Massu's storybeats so that they have a better moment to shine #while also giving him a couple more scenes like being excited of rehearsing with Saku that reflects well on his character #like disclaimers in the tags but while i'm perhaps more 'meh' on the 'liking him still' scale with massu #i'm also team 'i can't stand his izumi's obsession it drives me insane' #but man i do think the crumbs are tasty and maybe i'm just making up a new chara in my head out of them #but i'll still care for them damnit!!! i'm not going to let this decision reflect on a son!!! #but i was realizing a few anime rewatch ago that i didn't mind Massu as much in the anime as he annoyed me in the VN #and now that i'm rereading the VN i think i'm getting why re: pacing #it's interesting tbh #ichablogging a3

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water Pt. II

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: the aftermath of letting him in

pt.I

(art credits: @yunonoaii)

warnings: 18+ content

“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.

“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.

Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.

However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.

“how about this, sweetheart we-“

“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.

“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.

“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.

BZZT!

He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.

“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.

He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.

“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.

“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.

“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.

“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.

“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.

You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.

His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…

You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.

He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”

“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.

You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.

You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.

You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.

“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”

“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.

This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.

Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.

At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.

You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.

But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.

“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.

“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.

“go ahead”

“hold on to something right”

“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.

Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.

His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.

His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.

“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.

“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.

As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.

“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.

You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.

“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.

“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.

“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.

“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.

“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.

You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.

You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.

“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.

“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.

“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.

You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.

“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.

He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.

“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.

You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.

He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.

You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.

“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.

“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.

You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.

“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.

And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.

You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.

“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.

His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.

“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.

“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.

It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.

He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.

“can i be freed now?” He asks.

“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.

“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.

“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”

“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.

You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.

His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.

“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.

“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.

“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.

You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.

“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.

“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.

RIIIIING

RIIIIING

You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.

Shit.

“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”

“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.

“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.

“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”

“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.

“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.

“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.

“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.

“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.

You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.

“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.

“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.

You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.

“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.

“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.

“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.

“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.

“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.

Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…

#ciaoteamo #x reader #imagine #smut #milkman smut #milkman x reader #milk the man #milkman #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #dom spencer reid #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #kinktober 23

[screampied]

ALEJANDRO! — GOJO SATORU. ☆

➤ popstar!gojo masterlist

headline. after an argument regarding gojo’s career, you two take a break and it hurts. you aren’t together, so why should you care? maybe the fame is getting to gojo’s head after all. because you see him get a new assistant the very next day.

word count. 6.9k (crying)

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, tiny angst ending, angst, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, you make up, squírting, implied multiple órgasms, overstim, dumbification, size kink, mixed feelings, impact play.

“satoru, are you even listening to me?” you furrow your brows in sheer annoyance. the popstar, more like the brat continued to look past you as he spoke. sometimes you questioned why you’d even put up with him for so long. of course, you grew a liking to him, as did he for you, maybe?

it was a brief silence and he rolls his eyes, burying his hands into his pockets. “i heard you. i just don’t care,” he replies before dramatically yawning. “i’m adding that track on the album whether you like it or not.”

you blink twice, he was so unserious. it was as if for a split second he forgot who he was.

the gojo satoru. the two of you were in public, currently outside of a shopping mall. he was secretly buying copies of his cds to get more sales before this meaningless altercation started. “i just think it’s not a good idea,” you sigh, feeling as if you probably weren’t gonna get through to him. “the label was strict on the duration, and—”

“you know what?” gojo abruptly cuts you off, trodding towards you. he leans forward, giving you a quick second glance before letting off a subtle scoff. “i can’t. we’re…this thing. whatever it is, we’re done,” and your eyes widen. him referring to whatever this thing was between the two of you as just something. perhaps it was foolish of you to think it would be something more.

without even thinking, you spit out, “fine. maybe you should get a new assistant then.”

“maybe i will, because someone doesn’t know how to fuckin' manage their client properly.”

oh.

it was an awkward dead silence after that. the awkwardness was so much, you could hear a pin drop.

as you glance up at the popstar, he looks unreadable. not a single thought through that brain of his. with hands buried in his pockets, he scoffs. “ya know how easy it is to replace you?”

“satoru, i’m trying to help you,” you furrow your eyebrows, briefly gawking around and trying not to make too much of a scene. you doubt lowering your tone a few notches would help. most likely, this little argument would be on the front headlines of tmz soon. “you don’t make the best decisions when it comes to things like this.”

“it’s gojo to you,” he rolls his eyes, and he turns his heels, staring to trod away. he pulls down his designer shades and he’s so dramatic. strutting down the sidewalk, he pulls out his phone before his lips curl into a pout. “address me right.”

you let off a sigh, purposely stepping right in front of him. he looks down at you, literally with a look of annoyance and slight vex.

“whatever, fine….gojo,” and you stare at him. honestly, the more you thought to yourself, why were you trying so hard? normal people would have taken the hint, but you…you felt the urge to keep testing his patience.

yet perhaps that wasn’t the brightest idea, because after all, you were dealing with a posh and snobby international brat. “firing me is only gonna make you look bad. besides, you know how the press-”

“princess, let me put it to you this way,” gojo mumbles, a toothpick casually sticking out near the corner of his mouth. the popstar gets right up close to you. you loathed how good he smelled—a rich cologne scent. specially, his own signature cologne from his very own brand.

the more he inches closer towards your face, the more you feel a tingly feeling creep its way inside your stomach. “i want nothing to do with you anymore, assistant,” and his voice, it had little to no emotion—you give him the same share of eye contact, trying to stand your ground but for some reason his words hit you like a gut punch.

a full blown gut punch to be exact. you’ve managed this brat for practically a various length of months, only for all it to go to waste from a stupid argument.

“you’re replaceable, and if you don’t wanna do your job then i’ll find someone else,” he shrugs, dusting off the shoulder parts of his leather bedazzled jacket. gojo tilts his head, studying your facial expression. in the midst of saying something, he continued, “besides, you said it yourself. to get myself a new assistant.”

“so you’re just throwing this all away?” you utter, a mere deadpan plastered on his face.

gojo grows quiet as you speak, yet he groans with a subtle eye roll. the secondhand embarrassment got to you too. again—why were you trying so hard? a question not ever you yourself could answer at that particular moment. “did me saying 'i love you' not mean anything?”

oh fuck.

you didn’t mean to say that. but at this particular moment, you kind of didn’t care.

maybe you were just a tad bit delusional but it couldn’t have been just you. out of all the times you spent with this popstar, getting to know him, saving him the trouble of getting himself hurt by fans….anything.

there had to be something there … right?

you did tell gojo you loved him out of the blue. just right after the grammys last week, it slipped out. one of the most embarrassing positions you’ve been in.

and the worst part was that gojo didn’t even say it back. more like he figured girls with him always said they loved him after having a mind-blowing orgasm from him. so you brushed it off, laughing it off awkwardly and he did the same. yet, you decided it’d be the smart idea and bring that simple reoccurrence up right now.

gojo runs a hand through his hair, pulling the tooth pick out of his mouth before scoffing. “not this again,” and with another sassy eye roll, he shifts his feet into the ground, “you’re not gonna win this argument, princess. it was fun, i’ll admit that.”

stupidity couldn’t have plastered on your face even more than that particular moment.

gojo left you there, unemployed and a total idiot.

for whatever reason, the strange ache in your heart tightened as you watched him walk away with that same fake-grin he’d have for the entire world to see. winking at his multiple die-hard fan girls.

although, it’s barely the next day before you spot gojo at some expensive shopping store reserved for only a-list celebrities. seeing him wasn’t what initially caught your attention, it was seeing him with another girl.

that made your eyebrows curl up into the biggest furrow imaginable. by him saying you were easy to replace, you didn’t think he’d be so quick.

giving her the exact same treatment he gave you, you nearly choke on your pretzel, observing the two of them.

gojo has an arm slung over her, his loud laughter that could be heard from just about a mile away.

was this jealousy you were feeling? it would be stupid, the two of you weren’t even together nor were exclusive—yet seeing your client, well ex-client made you feel a certain type of way. it was not to anyone’s surprise, seeing the numerous headlines of celebrity gossip headlines talk about the entire kerfuffle.

whatever happened to you…?

lots of people speculated the two of you were dating on the low, especially after what occurred at one of his most famous controversial performances. gojo fucking you whilst his mic was on the entire time. you’d probably never be able to live that down with him, neither would he to say the least.

you didn’t even know his new assistant’s name, but you already disliked her. the way she’d laugh at literally anything that came out of gojo’s mouth. he could let off an obnoxious belch and she’d think it was the most funniest thing in the world.

after a while, they end up leaving and you let off a irritated scoff.

maybe you were dramatic, but you wouldn’t lie and say that it stung a bit. the thought—no, the sheer reality of being replaced. you thought you were getting somewhere with the popstar.

out of the many myriad talks the two of you shared, including him even opening up about his past relationship—you figured maybe there was some kind of spark. but maybe, you thought wrong.

gojo said he was going to replace you, and that’s exactly what he did.

coincidentally enough though, you stayed over gojo’s penthouse the last time the two of you were together. you still had his key and forgot to give it to him. dragging your feet towards his residence, you grumbled.

how convenient.

you really weren’t in the mood to talk to him. besides from last time you could remember, he ended up ‘accidentally’ misplacing your panties too.

you decided to suck it up, making your way towards the popstar’s well kept home. you pause at the doormat that read in bold grassy letters, ‘home of a guy with a large dick’ and gibe. so unserious, to think he was one of the most popular pop artists known to date. he was always known to spend his money on the most witless things.

bawling up your fist, you prepare to knock on the front of the door. but instead, you just unlock it with the key. there’d be no point, besides, you’d be in and out, right? wrong…

because the moment you open the door, stood a real tall and shirtless satoru gojo. it was as if he knew you’d show up.

“mhm. just can’t get enough of me, huh,” gojo cocks his head towards the right, giving you a long four second glance. you felt your face get hot, the singer was in nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. his figure, quite slim and well built. droplets of water raced down his v-line, and you couldn’t help but sneak a long stare. “should get ya arrested for trespassin'.”

your eye twitches, finding it hard to look at him in the eye before you grumble. “i’m not stalking you, idiot. i came to give you your spare key back,” and then as he’s blankly staring at you, you halt your speech a bit before mumbling. “…and i came to get my panties back.”

“girl…huh? you’re mumbling. can’t understand ya.”

gojo sneers, and you hated how flawless his perfectly toned body was. it was distracting you, your thoughts, words, everything. the way the white towel was just barely hanging onto his waist.

his waist…so slim.

he was perfectly sculptured from his hips to further down. with a hand of his, he tugs the fabric of the towel up a bit, you were just about to spot a few specks of white hair. his happy trail, one of your favorite things about his body. how the hair just ran down and down. his sharp v-line was a force to be reckoned with. it wasn’t much a surprise that gojo was fit though, he was a trained dancer after all.

“i said,” you start to repeat yourself, trying to snap yourself out of whatever lewd trance he had you in. “…i want my panties back.”

“you came to see me jus’ to get those back?” gojo smirks, intaking a sharp breath before running a hand through his dampened hair. “is this your way of telling me you’re not wearing any panties right now?”

“i—” you utter, being cut off by mere embarrassment. gojo giggles at your lack of response, raising his head just a bit whilst awaiting your response. “can you be serious? why would i show up to your house without any underwear?”

gojo smugly grins. “you tell me. besides, what makes you think i have them?”

you glare at him and he pokes his bottom lip out. “fine, whatever. geez,” and then he moves in front of you, closing the broad door shut. you make your way inside of his doorway, awkwardly shifting your weight with your feet as he took a few steps back. “it’s in the ah…laundry room. had one of my maid’s do the load ‘n they got your stuff mixed up with mine.”

you follow gojo towards downstairs, where his huge laundry room was kept. it’s not like you had to necessarily follow him. you knew the layout of his penthouse like the back of your hand. nevertheless you were on his heels, pulling down on your skirt at the awkward silence.

was he just gonna be quiet the entire time?

him walking in front of you gave you the perfect chance to stare at his back, his back muscles specially…

it was unintentionally sexy, each step he took you watched as his muscles flex and crook together. still, he wasn’t exactly dry. it was a few leftover droplets of water racing down his back. you could make out a few scratch marks near his back as well, you were trying to remember if that was your doing or someone else.

“watch your step.”

immediately, you get cut off with gojo’s words and you fall face first into a steep like area. he groans, catching you with quick reflexes. “still so clumsy,” he mutters, and you stare up at the popstar. he returns a gaze, and then he looks away, getting you back on your feet. “c’mon..”

it was gauche—being handed your own bawled up panties. “um, thank you,” you tell him with the most somewhat neutral expression. gojo studies your eyes for a moment before nodding. the silence was killing you, and right when he was about to make his way back upstairs, you tug on his arm. “wait.”

“yeah?” he sighs deeply, bringing a hand towards his face to wipe his eyes. “did you forget something else?”

“no,” you roll your eyes, dragging your words out slowly. “you know why i really came here.”

“do i?” gojo tilts his head, leaning against the dryer. his towel hung onto his slim waist for dear life. you hated how he was playing coy, he knew the exact words that was about to go past your lips. “help me understand.”

you glare. “you don’t even like your new assistant.”

“woah now, that’s not true,” gojo brings his hands towards his hips. such sassy mannerisms, it made your eyes roll into the very back depths of your head. “for your information, i actually adore april, vivian, eh…whatever her name is.”

you deadpan, and gojo simpers. “…oh,” and his voice pitches a deep low. it makes you feel a bit of tingles in areas you’d rather not disclose. “is this your way of telling me that you miss me? you miss us?”

“obviously you don’t.” you utter, meeting straight eye contact with the popstar. the smile that lingers across his lips, he inches a bit closer towards you and it makes you nervous.

“i never said i didn’t miss you,” gojo snickers.

each inch he creates towards you, gradually closing the inelegant distance between the two of you, he brings a hand up to your face. it catches you by the upmost surprise, and he strokes a thumb against your cheek. “it’s clear you missed me though. can’t last a day without me. maybe you really are my biggest fan.”

the nerve, it made you narrow your eyes and gojo only smiles. “mhm. but fine, maybe i did miss you a little. kinda miss being put in my place if i’m being entirely honest, princess.”

you look up at him, and he’s very much serious from what you can tell. gojo’s thumb stroking against your cheek was so undeniably sensual. you intake a sharp breath, and he’s giving you an intense stare. suddenly, you felt hot and that’s when you come to the hurried realization that you were completely cornered. 

you were pinned back against the front door of the dryer, he had you right exactly where he wanted you. “you didn’t have to be such an asshole, though.”

“maybe,” he says, and then you gasp once he leans right into your neck, planting a single kiss near your collarbone. you almost forgot what his touch felt like. if it was anything about gojo, it was that he could never get enough of your taste. “i didn’t mean it. i jus’ wanted to piss you off.”

“satoru—” you’d grumble, yet that’s when he softly cups your chin.

“yeah yeah. scold me later, baby,” he murmurs, and his voice was so raspy. it was as if he was longing to kiss all over you, coat your skin with a plethora of invisible markings. it’s exactly what he does. his touch felt so warm, the same smug grin never leaves his face—oh, how you hated it. although, the more you stared at his perfect lips, the more you wanted to kiss him. “you want a kiss?” he hums, as if he’s nonchalantly reading your mind again. you give him a nod, pressed right up against the cold dryer and his body—gojo swipes a thumb over your lips, inching closer and closer before he pauses. “mhm. i’ll give you a kiss if you tell me pretty please.”

you’re sending him straight daggers. as gojo presses right up against you, he’s so close that the soft fabric of the towel brushes all on your skin. it tickles, and you then feel it push up against you. his bulge, his bulge that stuck out despite having a lengthy towel shielding his pure nudity from underneath his torso. your lips quavered, desperately wanting to feel his own mouth mash against yours. “s-satoru.”

“mhm. for an assistant, ya don’t seem to like followin' instructions,” he whispers right next to your lip. the warmth of his breath wafts right beside your own lips and it makes a small whine fly right out of your mouth. “you missed me so bad. all like this for a kiss, adorable.”

“prettypleaseprettypleasee,” you’d pout, and you don’t even realize you’re pouting until he smiles, pointing it out. gojo gives in within seconds, squeezing your chin and bringing you into a deep passionate kiss.

it started slow like it always did, with that same thumb of his coolly skimming beneath your chin, you part your lips. chaste—the perfect word to describe the kiss, it was a mixture of sloppy and straight lust. gojo had a sweet taste of peppermint on his tongue, you moaned the moment he started to get handsy. a smile curls against his lips once he feels your failed attempt to yank his towel off.

gojo only then reaches down between your legs, past your skirt — pulling up your thigh, he hums right into your mouth once his fingers only feel nothing but soft skin. “ooh,” he briefly pulls away, sneaking a kiss near the inner part of your jaw. “i was right. no panties,” and then he tsks. “how unprofessional.”

“shut up,” you huff, and he lets you remove the towel. gojo’s dampened body collides against yours, and he’s almost grinding against you—you initiate the kiss this time. wrapping both arms over his broad shoulders, your tongue continued to battle for dominance with his. each nanosecond his breathing picked up, casually racing within itself. everything around you felt warm, you felt like you were floating, burning up hot, but floating.

it’s only been a day, perhaps half a day but it felt like years. you didn’t care if this made you appear to be obsessed or whatever. all you knew was that you wanted this stupid popstar.

gojo slips off a whine once he feels you reach for his length, giving him a few concise strokes. “f-fuckin’ damn, i’m a little sensitive from earlier,” and as he breathlessly speaks between kisses, gojo’s the one to grow a bit timid now and he gives you a dazed glance. “heh, don’t look at me like that. it turns me on when you’re angry at me.”

“you’re so weird,” you deadpan, and you shudder even more. feeling a hand over yours wrap around his length. gojo’s nostrils briefly flare up, and as he’s intaking a breath, he tosses the towel to the side. you glance down, staring at his bulge and it makes the popstar a bit…nervous.

“f-fuck,” he’d groan, and that’s the exact moment where out of nowhere—gojo lifts you up. he sits you on top of the lid of the dryer, spreading your legs open. with a big hand, he slowly but surely pries them open, taking a good peak between them. “such a bold girl. comin’ to see me like this,” and he presses his lips towards the inner part of your thigh. you moan, watching gojo then lap out his tongue to lick a long stripe right near the crevice of your leg. “taste just as sweet as i remember.”

“don’t tease me, ‘toru.” you’d whine, feeling him leave sloppy kisses and bites all over your thighs. he ran his tongue up your leg, stopping right once he reached near your slick entrance.

gojo hums, cerulean eyes meeting yours for a second. his gaze was forever attractive, the way his eyes would trail up and down your body. he leans up close towards between your legs, and uses two fingers to spread your folds apart. “don’t tease me ‘toruuuu, she says,” he mocks your whiney delivery, and the popstar briefly laps his tongue against your clit for about three seconds. those three seconds was enough to throw you over the edge. his tongue was so long and pretty — a pretty bright pink, and you stared at it the entire time. “hm. assistants shouldn’t be this soaked.”

“don’t e-eat me out, wait,” you breathe, grabbing a fistful of his perfect whitened strands. gojo looks at you with a pompous grin, just preparing to dig in before you pull his head up. “just fuck me.”

“well excuse me then,” he rolls his eyes, making a fake caught off guard gasp. gojo takes one look at your glistened slit, a tiny pout going against his lips. “but how else am i gonna warm up my vocals, princess?”

“…you can’t warm up your vocals by eating pussy, satoru,” you mutter, not even believing you have to say that…then again, it’s satoru gojo. you shouldn’t even be so surprised anymore. the cute scowl that plastered across his face only widened. he sits up, moving you closer towards him. you sat on the cold lid of the dryer, and you watch as he springs his cock out.

gojo grouses. “oh fineee, be boring. let me starve, whatever,” and he’s so sassy it’s cute, the way his eyebrows curl up into a furrow. his dimples press against both sides of his temples, and you gasp once he aligns himself against your sleek entrance.

“i can’t even be that mad,” he suddenly breathes, a bit of a shakiness nearing his tone. “you’re so wet f’me, damnnn,” and you bite your lip as he starts to sink himself in. his fat tip - it prods against your folds, squeezing itself inside with such ease. “missed her bad,” and he pauses, watching himself disappear inside your cunt. the loud welcoming squelch your cunt made as a response to gojo’s length was music to his ears. your legs felt like mush and he presses a hand down your thigh. “listen to her, how she talks to me all nasty.”

“h-hurry up, satoruuu,” you’d whimper, his dirty talk sending you straight shivers to roam all throughout your body. he’d always speak to your pussy as if it could talk back, one of the many filthy things he’s loved doing with you. you couldn’t wait anymore, you wanted him. one thing about gojo, he loved more than anything to take his time with you.

he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him. your jaw dropped, feeling how thick he started to stretch you out. spurts of his own pre-cum coating all against your entrance.

he pants, starting to pant before he sinks a bit further inside of you. “uh—! don’t rush me. ‘s rude,” he creates a faux pout, and he briefly pulls out to slap his throbbing plump tip near the very front part of your entrance. he was teasing you so bad, you didn’t even register that you were laid flat on top of the machine, legs sprawled and your jaw nearly hanging. he was so big, such inches to leave you stuffed for many many for days. you hugged his cock much thanks to your walls, and gojo groans. “s-so warm..”

gojo was so hard and pent up, he gnaws on his lip before going in just a bit further. he starts to pant a bit, staring at how good you grip down on him. nice and snug, he brings a thumb towards the top part of your clit, smearing your own slick over your folds before he’s just about half way in. “you take sooo f-fuckin’ long.”

he giggles at the way your words were a bit slurred, your tummy heaved as he was gradually easing himself inside. “thought i told ya not to rush me, princess,” and you moaned once you felt him present you with an abrupt thrust that makes you jolt back—grabbing onto his arm. “mhm. what did i say last time? patience is a virgin, heh.”

“it’s virtue, you idiot.” you whined, your eyes nearly roll back from how good he splits your wetness into two. gojo was long, deliciously lengthy with such fat girth. he wasn’t particularly thick, but he had quite the height on him.

“virgin, virtue, same thing.” the popstar cheeses, and you moaned once he finally starts up a pace.

you had to cling onto his wrists, babbling off all kinds of pathetic whimpers. your sweet whines bounced off the walls—just reverberating across the entire room. you hope no one heard you.

his muscles, way near his ripped abs . . they clench and flex, and it’s so attractive. his body was almost dry, almost. however, he was just a bit damp near his happy trail and past his sharp v-line.

“f-fuckkk,” you’d swallow, barely being able to hold on. it only took a few pre-thrusts for him to figure out his pace and seconds later, you’re being ruthlessly drilled into. his hips, the way they struck into you at a sensual movement had your head spinning. nails of yours claw into his arm and he smiles, making sure to reach every spot.

regarding yesterday, gojo wasn’t necessarily lying. he didn’t mean everything he said, he just likes to talk and talk and talk.

much of that was quite apparent, and he knew you’d come running right back to him. misplacing your panties or not. although, the big question was forever a mystery with him.

…did he love you?

what do you even consider this ‘thing’ you two have? multiple unanswered ignored questions. gojo’s hips were smooth against you, jerking back and forth. he’s got a hand gripping onto your thigh as you’re sat up against the cold lid. you stupidly confessed to him, and he figured you were just saying it to say it.

unprofessional, sure. delusional, maybe…

but you knew you couldn’t be crazy. there had to be at least something between the two of you. the way he kisses you, friends don’t just do that. friends don’t kiss like that.

…is what you kept telling yourself.

his strokes had you losing your mind, sputtering nonsense—gojo watches you, and he leans up close to bring a finger towards your lips. a thumb of his pulls your bottom lip down, and he inches closer before giving you a fervent wet kiss. he ran his tongue against yours, and he was stuffing you so full that your legs merely gave out. “h-harder,” you’d whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. a smirk tugs on his lips and you spot his dimples poke out through your half-lidded peripherals. that’s when gojo then decided to deepens his hits. “harder, harder, harderrrr..”

“slower, baby yeah?” gojo teases, and he purposely brings his hips to a slowing halt.

the frown that goes against your lips was too cute. the popstar chuckles, his dick twitching inside you. he’s stirring up your insides perfectly before he stops his pace. you whine, scratching at his back this time and he hums. “ohhh. don’t like that? ‘m sorry,” he didn’t mean that apology. not in the slightest. he goes back to playing with hour bottom lip, stroking against it before sliding a finger into your mouth. “such pretty lips, so good for suckin’.”

you moaned, immediately sucking his finger before he adds another. he swabs all around your mouth before you briefly end up gagging.

“forgot how sloppy ya always get for me,” and he’s fucking you so deep, your warmth drives him wild. his base, the way it smacks and thwacks right against your entrance has your mind going in a loop. “get my fingers nice ‘n wet, good girl. coat ‘em real sweet. juuuuust like that, princess.”

his candied words, it had you pulsing.

the moment gojo starts up his vigorous pace again, you’re whimpering. he can never stand still though. one second you’re sat on top of the dryer, the next he drags you towards the cushioned sofa. you crave more of him, his dick reached all the right spot and oh, your maw was dropped.

“s-satoruuu,” you’d huff out, and he’d have you in a subtle mating press now. he’d have you on all fours, but he was a lazy man. he’d prefer to look you dead into your eyes the moment you were reaching your inevitable peak. “so d-deeeep.”

“perfect fit for you,” he murmurs in a husky rasp.

gojo’s balls deep, it’s a tight fit and he’s just ramming right into your dripping cunt. you coat him with so much of your slick, it’s messy.

exactly how he liked it too. you whine, feeling him drive such rough thrusts into you. this position, it was so lewd. the perfect angle to grab you by the chin and shove his tongue down your throat. it’s what he does too, sneaking various kisses near your lips, the very corner of your mouth, anywhere and everywhere.

gojo groans, feeling you start to grip and grasp a bit tighter against him. it’s his turn for his eyes to roll back, and he looks so pretty. your pussy’s got him in a trance. a trance he never wanted to escape out of.

“damn, y-you’re so soakin’ for me. makin’ me jus’ as messy as you, baby,” he pants, and you feel him continuously twitch inside of you. gojo lightly lifts up your leg, and he starts to nibble near your ankle. you whine, feeling yourself approach a nearby orgasm. the thought of leaving a slick mess on his cock made your mouth water.

you needed it.

he slams back into you each time, it gives you whiplash. sweetened murmurs of his name were the only words to leave past your spit-glossed lips, and you moan a drawn out, “t-think ‘m getting close, ‘toru. really close, fuckkk.”

“wait a little, princess,” he slyly remarks, and you feel his hips piston. you were dumbfounded, stupid even. his stamina, practically non existent. right when you think he’s finished he starts up again. you’re dumbly nodding your head in endorsement from the way he’s got you thumping back against the cushion. “wait for meee.” and he starts singing.

he’s mocking you, he strokes your chin before flashing you a teasing grin. it’s not funny anymore once his voice cracks and he clears his throat to play it off. “eheh.”

“i c-can’t,” you’d stammer, and you gasp once you feel a single coil within you snap. you’re an entire mess underneath him. his dick, so lengthy it made you salivate entirely. gojo reached every single orifice inside of your pussy, every edge, every corner. like most people knew the layouts of places, he knew the exact layout of your pussy. every single time. “oh my g-goddd.”

gojo’s jaw tightens, and as you’re being pummeled into the mattress. you end up squirting, gushing out so much.

gojo doesn’t realize it until he looks into your dilated irises, and pauses. “oooooh,” he purrs, his words sounding in the form of a curious question. “did you just squirt?”

silence was your answer, and he just hums. gojo stares down, bringing a thumb towards your swollen slit, massaging against the entrance and you shudder. “fuck. you fuckin’ squirter,” he coos, his voice grows a bit low, a deep deep low. you pulse, making a cute attempt to hide your face but he pulls your hands away. “awwww, baby, baby. don’t hide that face from me. i like my assistants messy anyway.”

you were drenched beneath him, gojo leans in to kiss you.

so sensual yet filled with the most passion. you whimpered, feeling his toned body rock against you. hands of yours roamed down his back, pulling him close and he allows his tongue to part right against yours. he didn’t know what it was about you but he knew for certain that you were addicting.

his taste, it was enchanted with sweetness. minty and all, you allow his tongue to ghost amongst your own — and that’s right when gojo moans into your mouth.

he’s buried deep into you, and he briefly pulls away, a pretty cobweb of glistening spit departs from your lips and he groans. “damnnn, ‘m cumming too,” and it was so abrupt. he didn’t expect it.

once goio’s load came, it was so thick.

stringy, multiple ropes shot inside you to make you permanently feel his warmth. mating press, the most perfect position if not one of the best positions to get stuffed full like this.

“s-shitttt,” he starts to whine, and it was far more then be intended for it to be. you were being pumped full of cum, it takes a lot out of him. quite literally, he pauses his hips and takes a moment.

there, you laid and lingering over you with the most feral look was gojo. his weight briefly lingers over you — and the look he’s giving you, you’re pulsing heavily. he starts heaving and heaving, beads of sweat racing down his and before he blinks. “milkin’ me s-so much,” and then be slowly lifts your leg up, throwing it over his shoulder. “still have more though. wanna see your tummy all plump. spillin’ everything out, just for me to see.”

and he does exactly what he says, gojo even pulls out just to watch his own cum spill out. it makes him pout, and he plugs his dick back inside once he starts up again. you moaned, feeling the stickiness all over your inner thighs. it was his favorite part. watching his own viscid cum run down your plush thighs, only to then shove some of it back into your folds.

the popstar was addicted to you, there was no doubt. sure, he’d be a drama queen and say he’s done with you — but you and him both knew the sheer reality. perhaps gojo shared the same feelings, he just didn’t wanna admit it.

falling in love in the entertainment industry was always a scary thing. especially for gojo. but part of you wanted to change that. if he’d let you.

gojo fucked you through numerous positions.

each one leaving you with teeth-shattering orgasms. it was never ending, it felt so good that you never wanted it to end. it was to the point where sweet cacophonies of, “s-satoruuu,” and “pleaseeee,” rang throughout his ears. only he could make you whimper out the prettiest babbles for him.

he’d have you riding him at this point, and he’s in the midst of dumping another warm load right into you. gojo stares in awe at how your hips grind and move effortlessly against him. he’s got a hand attached to your right hip, and he spanks your ass. “f-fuckkk, keep movin’ like that. make me cum, make me fuckin’ cum.”

and once he came inside you for probably the umpteenth time, you steady your hips, leaning in to give the popstar a kiss near his neck. he moans from your touch, pulling you close to him as your legs felt nearly nonexistent.

“good girl, easy e-easyyy,” he purrs against your ear, and you’re putty within his hands practically. he runs a hand down your back, moving a few strands out of your face before he’s panting right with you. he grows quiet for a moment before swallowing. “damn. that was,” and he’s breaking between each of his words, pulling you right into his bare chest. “. . so hot. you should really get more jealous like this, princess.”

“i wasn’t— i wasn’t jealous,” you huff out, leaning back to stare at him. gojo smirks, his eyes averting towards your lips before back towards your face. “but satoru. you still— you never answered my question from before.”

he raises a brow, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm. “hm? what question.”

“…okay,” you intake a breath, feeling as though you had ran an entire marathon. “what does this mean? you um.. never said anything about being exclusive.”

“do you wanna be exclusive?” gojo sneers, cocking his head towards the left.

“i’m being serious.” you mumble, he’s still buried inside you and you shift a bit on his lap.

the popstar rolls his eyes. “girl, so am i,” and he plants a kiss near the corner of your mouth. “the press already thinks we’re dating. especially after seeing us bicker like an old couple in public.”

“so...” you look up at him, returning a kiss near his lip. your eyes basically spoke for you and he understood what you were trying to hint at.

“sooo,” he mimics you, stroking a thumb against your hip.

“if we’re gonna be together, you need to fire that new assistant.” you grouse.

“oh right riiiight,” gojo snickers. “i’ll fire her extra hard just for you, baby.”

you pause with the most noticeable deadpan. “that doesn’t even make sense.”

gojo simpers. “geez, we gotta work on that sense of humor. anything i say is supposed to be funny to you,” and he wraps an arm around you—you feel warm, pulled into his strong warm embrace. “mhm. but now that we’re finally together, i do wanna start off by saying how much i love you.”

“huh?” you croak.

gojo smugly grins, nudging you. “you heard me. i love you,” and he kisses your lips for a split second, only to pull away to watch you fully register what he just said. after what felt like ages, he finally said it back.

“r-really?” you’d softly utter, starting to feel warm all over your body. it was all your mouth could mutter out, your eyes were slightly agape and you couldn’t believe he’d return the same feelings.

“mhmmm,” he nods, stroking your back. gojo brings you into a kiss, and you kiss back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

you felt a weight get lifted off your shoulders, and you lean forward towards him, a brief body language sign that you wanted to start up again. his sweet taste had you whining for more, your legs locked over his waist…. and that’s right when he squeezes the right part of your ass. a good firm grip, leaning back for you to take control of him.

“so he loves you, huh.”

you’re interrupted by a low raspy voice, you break away . . . and everything was so quick, a blink of an eye. you’re staring at gojo and his reaction was just as yours was slow. he stares, not at you—but from behind you where apparently a tall broad figure was.

a loud bang rang throughout the room, and gojo choked out a gasp. again, your reaction was slow. for a second, it was like time stopped. you watched in front of you as gojo clenches his heart, a faint breathy gasp for air before he falls backwards. it was the screeching ring of a shot.

you heard what sounded like cocking in the background and you immensely crawl off of gojo’s lap.

“s-satoru?” you stammer, not even believing your eyes—you were far too scared to look behind you, let alone look near your peripherals. gojo grunts, his eyes flickering and you then after seconds later, you end up turning around to see him.

toji.

“hey girl,” he nods, that familiar smug expression never leaving his face, “miss me? i let you have your fun for a while,” toji snickers, blowing the smoke out of the muzzle. as he walks towards you, his footsteps were awfully loud. you froze, glancing down at gojo who had a awfully pale color starting to quickly take over his skin.

words couldn’t leave your lips for whatever reason, it was as if you were mute—lip locked.

you felt numb, entirely so. gojo’d just said he loved you back, and now he looked almost lifeless.

“what do you think would be a better headline? ‘famous popstar found unresponsive at the scene!’ or uh.. ‘popstar 'satoru gojo' gets into a fight with his assistant’s boyfriend and things get a little…messy’.”

“we aren’t even together anymore. fuck you, toji.” you spat, fat incoming tears blinding your vision practically.

“you did that a long time ago, sweetheart,” toji purrs, you could hear the enjoyment in his voice. “and technically, we never broke up,” he corrects you with a shrug. “oh boo hoo, enough with the tears. should be thanking me, really. no one can love you like i can. told ya i’d come back for you,” and then he chuckles behind your ear, a rough hand going on your shoulder. “now let’s go home, princess.”

#★vegasbaby. #popstar!gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #female reader #anime smut #cw sex mention

[whateveriwant]

might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;

Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader

Price

Three words: full body massage

That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)

He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his

He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin

Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted

Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)

By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut

Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone

Ghost

We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in

…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is

Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)

You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work

He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home

He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name

I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses

Gaz

He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening

First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining

Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off

The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes

When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet

He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it

Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion

Soap

‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck

However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up

He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you

Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)

He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting

And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there

By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…

#wiw asks #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john price #simon riley #kyle garrick #john mactavish #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

#astarion #dancingbirdiewrites #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion x f!reader #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

[les4elliewilliams]

Happy together.

Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader

a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.

cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.

"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.

"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.

The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.

"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.

"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.

Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.

"Really?"

He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.

After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict. 

Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.

"Yeah."

His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."

She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.

The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."

She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.

"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.

It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.

Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide. 

They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.

"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. 

"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.

The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.

As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern. 

A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word. 

As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.

"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"

"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here."  She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?

Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease—Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.

Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.

Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown. 

"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.

While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.

"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.

The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.

The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh. 

The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.

You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.

Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone. 

Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.

"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.

It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.

After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.

"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.

"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"

"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.

"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession. 

The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.

"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.

"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.

"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.

The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.

She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.

"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.

"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear. 

"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.

You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.

She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.

After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time. 

"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.

"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.

"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.

"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you." 

You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.

"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"

"Okay"

"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.

////////////////////

The Diner – Early Night  – September 11th, 2018.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment. 

As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way. 

The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.

"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you. 

"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile

"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.

You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner. 

"Oh my god, shut up!" 

She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.

"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.

"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split." 

She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.

"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.

"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.

“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.

When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.

You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago. 

With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“911, what's your emergency?”

////////////////////

The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.

Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.

The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts. 

In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face. 

"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.

“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.

"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.

"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities. 

"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.

"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.

Police Station – September 15th, 2018.

The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.

The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.

"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.

Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating. 

"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation,” he explained. The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once. 

"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.

Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.

Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes. 

Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.

"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.

"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded. 

"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.

St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.

Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.

You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town. 

They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description. 

Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.

The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire. 

She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.

A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.

“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time. 

The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”

Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.

She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.

“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features. 

Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie. 

“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically. 

"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"

Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.

Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy. 

The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores. 

You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning? 

"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.

"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin. 

"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers. 

"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine. 

"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time. 

"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.

"You should put a baby in me." 

The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.

"Oh? just like that?" 

With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself  “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips. 

“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?

A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction. 

“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.

“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.

“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.

“Yeah, said what?”

“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her. 

"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved. 

Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.

“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response. 

“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits. 

“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust. 

“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close. 

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure. 

“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap. 

“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her 

“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.

Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her. 

Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.

“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll. 

A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her.  “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.

“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.

“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.

“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb. 

“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender. 

“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.

“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you. 

“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin. 

“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements. 

“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin. 

“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.

“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again. 

She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back. 

"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me" 

That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.

Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.

"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace. 

“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest. 

“I love you more,” you echoed back softly. 

"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her. 

"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together. 

"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her

"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers. 

"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips

“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face. 

“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle. 

“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.

The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.

"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."

Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.

Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato. 

And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.

His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.

"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight. 

You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.

Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.

"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now? 

“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.

"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket. 

"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.

You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.

"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.

You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"

Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.

"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious. 

He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.

You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.

“El?” 

“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.

A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.

Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?” 

“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.

“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added

“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease

“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch

“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her

“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-” 

“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”

“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours 

“See you soon?” 

“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words

A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,��� savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything. 

“Love you.” 

“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.

You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.

“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him. 

“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile. 

“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly. 

“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment. 

“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked. 

“No, sure. go ahead”

A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him. 

“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago. 

“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.

He must be tired, you thought. 

Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him” 

“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace. 

“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile 

“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight. 

When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.

“Honey, I’m home”

The Police station – October 27th, 2018.

Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.

“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.

2:26 AM.

He should be home, in his bed.

He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups. 

“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.

The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.

“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?

“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated 

“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,” 

“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'

“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.

“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.

“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs. 

“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.

He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.

Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.

The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.

He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself

Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.

With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.

He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.

It was only 4 AM.

He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep. 

As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.

The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket. 

He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless. 

He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.

The missing hard disk.

Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it? 

It didn't make sense.

He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?

With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.

The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.

Jackpot.

He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.

Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.

And then, there it was. The whole truth.

He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.

Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage. 

When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.

There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.

"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.

Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life. 

The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.

She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.

Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.

“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins

“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel. 

Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.

When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.

“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour 

“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.

Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed,  “What’s gotten into you, dude?” 

Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever. 

“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.

“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head. 

“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone 

“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?” 

“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.

“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request. 

“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.

He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.

"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.

The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime. 

“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.

Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes. 

You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.

You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest. 

Did she leave the house without telling you? 

Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.

Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.

“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.

It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.

Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward 

“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension. 

“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug. 

“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him. 

Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.

Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it. 

“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it. 

“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely. 

“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.

“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.

Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind. 

You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.

“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room. 

At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?” 

You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist. 

Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together-

"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric. 

"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.

"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist. 

Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.

You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."

With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again. 

No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.

I can't see me lovin' nobody but you

For all my life

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