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nanasparadise · 2 years

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“Homo homini lupus est” Yan!Toji x fem reader

Summary: Toji loves a good stack of cash, but turns out he might have found a sweeter prize this time when he sees you again.

TW: toxic relationship, talk about money and loans, kidnapping, violence and blood (not graphic), predator and prey imagery, slight allusions to NSFW, swearing, mentions of alcohol (no intoxication), MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

Word count: 1424

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

“Where the fuck is the money, Fushiguro?”

Toji shot a disinterested look at you, not really recognising your face. Were you one of his past flings? He quickly dismissed that hypothesis. Probably not, he never had to spend a single coin for a night with a woman. He simply shrugged, choosing not to give a damn about you, as he turned around to leave the bar again.

A hand wrapped around his bicep stopped him from going further. To his surprise, you were quite strong.

‘A feisty one’, he thought, a smug smile appearing on his face, making the scar on the corner of his mouth stretch.

“Don’t know what ya talking about, doll, but if yer looking for money, ya sure as hell got the wrong man,” he replied, voice dripping in amusement. The scowl on your face deepened, your hand gripping tighter on his arm.

“Quit bullshitting around. I lent you 1,300,000 yen six months ago, where’s the back payment? I should’ve got something already a month ago!” You were seething with anger. And even though you were taking this situation very seriously, Toji couldn’t help but find it anything other than entertaining at best and annoying at worst.

“Seems like that’s yer problem. I ain’t got anything on me after that glass of whiskey.” With a precise movement, he ripped his arm away from your iron-clad grasp and made his way towards the exit. He had already enough stress with unpaid debts, he didn’t need more. With unexpected speed, you managed to get in front of him. Not even a second later, a fist landed square on his nose, the impact leaving nearly crushed bones and crimson blood behind. Toji gasped, not necessarily out of pain (he had endured injuries far more detrimental than a possibly broken nose)- no, he gasped because he couldn’t believe you had the guts to punch him in front of everyone. The other guests of the bar didn’t seem to care too much, though, as they probably were already used to fights. The only one who completely misjudged your strength was Toji himself.

Quickly, he recovered from the initial shock. Instead, a wicked grin resurfaced on his face.

‘This should be fun.’

“Listen here, you piece of shit,” you all but spat, your hand still clenched in a fist. Toji could see both his blood and yours on your scraped knuckles. For some reason, he liked this image. “I don’t give a fuck they call you Sorcerer Killer, you don’t scare me one bit. I only care about my money. So if I don’t have it back in a week, you’ll be dead meat, understand?”

“Big words for a girl like ya, considering I could bend ya in half with just my pinky.”

“Next week, this bar, same time,” was all you replied as you gripped the door handle and left the establishment.

Toji lifted a finger towards his nose, inspecting the blood that coated it now. You surely were a brave one, he had to admit that. It had been a while since anyone dared oppose him and he couldn’t help but feel a rush, a thrill flowing through his veins, reminding him of all the times he was preying on his target.

This time, the reward for his chase wouldn’t be money, but the prospect of a different prize excited him nonetheless.

***

You’d told him to see him again in a week, but, unbeknownst to your awareness, Toji had been following you the last couple of days. For being such a strong fighter, you sure did lack in premonition. The assassin couldn’t help himself but being intrigued by your being. Through his stalking, he started to remember who you actually were and how you two were connected. A loan shark, working for a shady business Toji went to when there wasn’t a yen left in his pockets. Of course he knew he wouldn’t pay you anything back when he met you, though he didn’t reckon you’d be this persistent. Most people were too scared of his reputation to mess with him.

But not you.

His fingers went to his nose, excitement blossoming inside him.

No, not you. You had guts made of steel, it seemed. Too bad you had to be such an interesting pretty little thing. Under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed crushing your skull. However, he had another plan for you.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t break you, though.

***

“Can’t believe you actually came, Fushiguro.”

Leisurely, Toji sat on the stool next to you at the bar. “What can I say, can’t turn a pretty lady like yerself down, now, can I?” he smirked.

You scoffed at his words. “We both know that’s not true.” He shot you a wink to which you reacted with an eye roll.

Gesturing for a whiskey, the bartender placed the amber beverage in front of Toji. A single brow shot up on your face, giving the man next to you a disapproving look. “I thought you didn’t have any money left after your last drink.”

“Need somethin’ to strengthen my nerves when ya scold me, dontcha agree?”

“You’re goddamn right,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. Putting the glass back on the counter, you let out a sigh. “Now let’s cut to the chase. I hope you came with the money?

“Ya bet, sweetcheeks.”

You grimaced at the nickname, which only widened his shit-eating grin.

‘I’m gonna get ya to like them, just ya wait. Can’t wait to see ya under me, moaning-’

“And I’m guessing you also remembered the interests?”

“Of course.”

“Well,” you gave him a weird look, “where is it?”

Toji leaned into you, his arm brushing against yours. In return, you backed away from his touch, uneasiness being visible on your face for a slight moment.

‘Turns out yer not as tough as ya look, little girl.’

“Left it in the trunk. Thought it wasn’t a smart idea to come in here with a buncha cash.”

You gave him an incredulous look. Clearly, you didn’t fully believe him.

“You don’t seem like the type to own a car,” you interjected, a frown coating your face.

“Who said anythin’ about owning it, doll?”

“Of course,” you sighed, “anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go to the car and get the money, I’m sick of this bullshit.” You stood up from the stool and signed him with your right hand to do the same. An all too familiar anticipation spread through Toji as he witnessed how you took the bait. In the end, you really were just a helpless small rabbit who thought she could really stand a chance against the big bad wolf.

He couldn’t wait to devour you.

Toji followed your lead as he stood up from his seat as well. The two of you walked out of the bar to the parking lot. The black-haired man went to a grey car, which obviously had seen better days. With a fluid motion, he grabbed the keys out of his trouser pockets and opened the vehicle.

“I know ya don’t trust me a bit, Y/N,” Toji said, “so why dontcha open the trunk? Just so ya know I ain’t planning somethin’ funny.”

You furrowed your brows at his explanation, but didn’t comment any further. Instead, you walked past him closer to the car. “You’ll be dead as a doornail if the money isn’t in here,” you hissed at him, the threat hanging in the air like a noose, ready for the execution. Your hand hovered above the trunk, wanting to reveal its insides.

Unfortunately for you, Toji didn’t take you too seriously.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he countered patronisingly.

As you eventually opened the trunk, a strong force hit the back of your neck. Instantly, you went out like a light. Toji’s arms gripped your form as your unconscious body fell, hindering you from hitting your head on the floor. He placed you in the trunk and took out his utensils (you might have truly killed him if you had known there wasn’t any money in the first place). Swiftly, he bound your limbs together with rope and put some duct tape over your mouth. With an uncharacteristic soft gesture, he glided his hand over your cheek before closing the trunk and walking to the driver’s seat.

It really was a shame for you that your intuition wasn’t as great as your physical power and prowess. Otherwise, you would have realised that you’d never given him your real name.

#Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere toji #yandere toji x reader #tw: yandere #tw: toxic relationship #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: blood #tw: alcohol #tw: swearing #minors dni

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patchofsunlight · 3 years

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Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”, “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others?

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered.

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened.

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction.

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise.

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be.

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it.

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

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MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 2)

Pinky/Alien Queen

The first time you met Mina was when you were much younger.

She had been in the friends group that you always admired and it had taken you a while to work up the courage to speak to her. Everything about her screamed her confidence and you looked up to her in almost every way possible. She was beautiful, her quirk was powerful, and there wasn’t a person alive who could dislike her.

But she had hardly noticed that you were there. At least, you had believed that you would slip under her radar. She wouldn’t know that she was your inspiration for your school choice and that was fine by you.

And yet…

Your name was called only a few minutes after you stepped through the main gates. A blur of pink nearly bowled you over and Mina practically picked you up with the strength of her hug.

“I didn’t know that you were coming here!” she squealed. “This is so cool! I was super worried that I was going to not know anybody here. Did you get into the hero course also?”

You laughed awkwardly, stepping away despite not really wanting to stop the hug. It was odd to stand before her and realised that not only did she know who you were but she was excited to see you.

You hadn’t just been a background character in her massive friend group.

“I didn’t try for the hero course,” you explained. “I’m here for the marketing course.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Wait, really? Your quirk would really suit being a hero though.”

“I know but it’s just not for me.”

Mina grabbed your arm then, walking closely by your side as you entered the large school. “That’s okay! I’m going to need a good marketing team one day when I’m out saving the world. Who better than somebody who’s known me since middle school?”

“You’re like the sweetest person in the world,” you pointed out. “Anybody with a brain cell will adore you when you’re a hero. Your marketing probably won’t have to do anything at all.”

She smiled proudly at your assessment. “Imagine if I make it to the top 10 without even working for an agency. I think I’d be like the first, right?”

You didn’t actually know the answer but, luckily, it seemed to be a rhetorical question anyway.

“I haven’t met anybody from my course yet and I’m super nervous,” she continued. “I saw a few kids during the exam that I am certain got in so I can’t wait to meet them. Hopefully they’re all super nice. Also, I can’t wait to see what they’ve done with my hero outfit! You should see what I sent in because I think you would love it.”

“I’m guessing it works for dancing as well as hero work?” you asked.

She nodded excitedly. “Do you expect anything else? I actually don’t think I’ve ever asked but do you like dancing?”

“I mean –“

You didn’t get much time to answer before she spotted somebody and excitedly grabbed your arm. “That guy was in my exam!” she said. “I just knew he was going to make it! You should see how awesome his quirk is. I’m going to go say hi.”

She raced off into the crowd, heading for somebody that you hadn’t quite seen. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face at the thought of continuing to be in the same school as her. Perhaps now, without the distractions of others, the two of you could become actual friends.

You held your head high, excited to meet others in your course and learn some things to speak to her about in the coming days.

Red Riot

There was no place in the world quite like your home. Returning after far too long, you were extraordinarily excited to revisit all your favourite places and meet up with people.

Except that most of your friends had moved away from home in order to live on school grounds. And your favourite street food vendor had disappeared. Even the park had removed the swings that you had so many good memories associated with.

And thus, what had started as a great day had quickly gone downhill.

You found yourself just walking around, snacking on something small and hoping to just relax a little before having to unpack. Much of the place felt dull and uninteresting – not even the stuff that had remained being enough to cheer you up. It was honestly a little miserable and you had been hoping for some excitement.

Your request to the universe was thankfully answered when you finally spotted a familiar face standing outside the massive gates ahead of you.

Slowly, you made your way over and grabbed Midoriya’s shoulders playfully. The friend that you once knew would have jumped but laughed at it once he saw you.

He didn’t do that.

You yelped in pain as he spun around and grabbed your wrist tightly. He had never been strong before but now his grip felt like it could break bone.

The moment he recognised you, he released his hold and you backed away feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

“That was a bit excessive,” you commented dryly when he said your name.

“I am so sorry,” he said, quickly holding up his hands. “I thought that you – I mean, you gave me an awful fright.”

“No problem,” you said though your wrist still smarted. “I was going to do it to Bakugo originally.”

As though he magically heard you mention his name, the blond lifted his head from where you had spotted him beyond the gates. His ever-present snarl was still on his face and it only deepened when he spotted you. “I thought you had gone off and died somewhere!” he snapped, loud enough that many students turned to look curiously.

“You wish I had!” you responded. “I didn’t think they would let you into such a fancy school. I’m impressed.”

“And I’m disappointed that they let you back into the city!”

“He’s as sweet as always,” you said, turning back to Midoriya who looked at least slightly happy to see you. “I’m glad that you got into your dream school. You were always working so hard to make it happen. How did you do it?”

“I got a late quirk,” he chuckled.

A shadow fell over you and you turned to give Bakugo a glare. “You’re standing in my sunlight. Could you move?”

He was about to respond, undoubtedly with a cutting remark when a red-haired guy smoothly stepped around him. “You must be from their middle school, right?” he guessed, holding out his hand. “I’m Kirishima.”

You were beyond confused at having your impending fight interrupted. Bakugo didn’t seem to feel the same way, instead looking resigned. This happened often then.

You introduced yourself though, keeping your surprise well hidden. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m sorry you have to be in the hero course with these two. I doubt they’ve gotten better with their constant fighting.”

“You’d actually be surprised. Their rivalry is just so manly and inspiring,” he enthused, looking for all intents as though he genuinely believed it. “But they’ve actually been getting along better recently.”

“Really? Tell me some details?”

Before anybody could protest, Kirishima began expressing how the two had slowly been growing to respect one another. Most of his praise fell onto Bakugo (who was giving you a look that promised you would die very soon) and you made sure to inject playful comments every now and then.

At the very least, your day was getting better by the minute.

Shoto

Sometimes people would call you a disappointment. They were rarely people of importance – at least in your life, and it was something you’d learned to ignore them in a healthy childishness sort of way.

Despite what all those people thought, you weren’t a disappointment.

And it certainly was unfortunate.

Your parents weren’t pro-heroes but they held great sway in other ways. Ways that earned them a seat at many tables and an introduction at others. And that was how you made connections and earned your own reputation. Though accourding to many, the latter wasn’t something that you should be proud of.

You walked with your head held high and accepted any words that they offered to you with a simple smile and the occasional rude gesture.

It had served you well enough until you found yourself at some stuffy gala with nobody to talk to. On the surface, you had expected everything to continue in the same way that it always had.

But your parents stuck closer to you than ever. Normally they would disappear to socialize but tonight was different.

You found out why when they marched you almost directly to one of the world’s most intimidating people.

The Number Two hero himself.

Perhaps it was because of your normal personality but he made you uncomfortable. Everything about him ate at you and made you want to fight. But you merely introduced yourself and wondered what it was that he wanted.

“Your quirk is admirable,” he said. “If rumours are to be believed.”

“They’re rarely reliable,” you said.

He glanced at your parents, seeming to have a silent conversation with them before nodding. “Wait here,” he said.

Your parents disappeared to go talk to people but both gave you equally strong warnings – though their own came mostly through looks than actual words. Leaving wasn’t an option, no matter how long it took. And it really felt like absolute ages before Endeavor reappeared, his youngest son trailing behind him.

“Shoto and you are close in age,” he said. “Speak to one another.”

That… wasn’t what you had been expecting.

Shoto Todoroki didn’t want to be there but his dislike for the event seemed to go even further than your own. Though he didn’t frown, his deadpan spoke volumes and an uneasy atmosphere settled over you both. Once Endeavor marched off, you were very much expecting him to leave but he remained, staring at you.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hi.”

You chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “I haven’t really been told to make friends since I was much younger…”

“This isn’t about us being friends,” Todoroki said. “This is about creating a good reputation with your parents through our connection. They already get along well but this would undoubtedly benefit them both.”

“Oh,” was really all you could say.

“Business as usual,” he responded.

“So, you’re not up for being friends?” you asked, half-joking because you were unsure what else to say or do in this type of situation.

“I don’t care much either way.”

You could go off and cause trouble. It was tempting to be caught sneaking food into your bag again or climbing to the roof and taking selfies. But those were the things that you always did at these events. Never did you interact with anybody and you were, admittedly, curious about the burn that covered the younger Todoroki’s face.

“Well, we should talk then,” you declared. “After all, we are a ‘similar age’.”

He rolled his eyes at your attempt at an impersonation of his father’s voice. At the very least, he didn’t seem to consider talking to you to be that much of a chore.

(I’ve begun writing a much longer Todoroki x Reader story with a similar situation. You can find it on by clicking here).

Shinso

People loved gossip. That was a sad but inherently true fact. Some preferred to keep away from the stuff and knew nothing about their own reputation but you liked knowing what they said about you. Thankfully, the majority of the time, it was good.

But that was unfortunately not true for everybody.

You heard them whispering about him as you entered class the one day. He always kept to himself but after the sports festival, Shinso had garnered many positive things said about him. You had never spoken to him yourself but you had thought that he was proud of how he could impress people.

Originally, you brushed it off as more speculation but the gossip sounded meaner than ever so you chose to listen in.

“No, I’m telling you, it’s scary as shit,” one guy was saying. “I began thinking all these really dark thoughts about like what I could do to people and stuff. It must have come from his quirk, right?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, it was wild. I know you guys all think that he’s some big shot but we should be careful trusting somebody with a quirk like his.”

You cleared your throat, quickly drawing attention to yourself. It would be plausible if you didn’t know the main person describing his experience. He was always complaining about not getting enough credit or attention – never seemed to be without something rude to say about every quirk but his own.

And he had been getting steadily more jealous of the general course’s most famous student.

“There is no way that Shinso’s quirk could do that,” you said firmly. “Don’t you remember how it was described at all? It doesn’t take over your thoughts, just your body.”

The guy scoffed. “No offense class rep but I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. I got hypnotized yesterday, not you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, willing to take the bait but unable to yet. Shinso normally got to class shortly before it began. So you waited until he arrived and then stepped in front of him with a friendly smile.

“Hey Shinso! I’m sorry to do this but I’ve been getting some conflicting answers about your mind control,” you said, projecting your voice just loud enough. “Could you show me?”

“Show you what?”

He sounded as though he had just woken up. You would have given him some time but you were on a bit short on it with class starting soon.

“How it feels to be under your hypnosis thing,” you said. “Apparently it’s kind of awesome and I was wondering if you could do it to me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Is this a dumb bet?”

“Nope. I just want to feel it.”

He sighed heavily as though you were asking for the toughest thing in the world which, admittedly, you may just be doing. “Do you like ramen?”

“Yes.”

You felt as though you’d been plunged into an ice bath. All of your limbs grew cold distant, like they had been yanked from your grasp. Initially, you panicked but you focused on relaxing. Shinso was in control, that was all that was happening. You trusted Shinso wouldn’t make you do anything.

“Go and sit at your desk,” he said.

His words sent a jolt through your body and it began to moving, dragging itself to follow his orders. Once you were sitting, the warmth came back to you and you could feel your own limbs once again.

“That was so awesome!” you said happily. “Thank you! It’s pretty startling initially but once you remember what’s happening, it begins to make sense.”

He nodded and sat down at his own spot.

You made direct eye contact with the group who had been gossiping earlier and you gave them a dazzling smile. The main one gave you a dirty look but you ignored it, relishing instead in the proof that you now had.

Suneater

Everybody knew who the Big 3 within U.A. were. They were impossible to ignore but quickly made friends with everybody, at least, two of them did.

Having been in their class for your entire U.A. experience, you had watched their quirks develop and fought alongside them in many exercises. They tended to stick to themselves for team ups or wound up working alongside one another. You had respected that but now you were beginning to get curious.

So, the one day you walked up to Nejire and told her, “I want to speak to Tamaki.”

She frowned at you in confusion. You were friends and often hung out together which meant, “You’ve spoken to Tamaki before.”

“No, I’ve spoken to groups that happen to have him in them. That’s not speaking to him, that’s speaking around him. Whenever I try to address him directly, Mirio or you end up answering for him.”

“That’s just Tamaki,” she said, taking a bite of her lunch bar.

It was just after a pretty intense training session and everybody was feeling quite tired. Most of you snacked before returning to class, citing that you had had complications in removing costumes or something similar.

“But I’ve been in his class for three years now and I’ve never actually spoken to the guy,” you urged. “Can you blame me for being curious?”

“I guess not but he’s not going to have anything interesting to say. He’s pretty quiet about literally everything.”

“Still…”

“You can try.”

Later at lunch, you joined the group at Nejire’s request. She plopped you down directly next to Tamaki and grabbed Mirio’s attention from the moment the conversation started. They spoke about something arbitrary which left you to speak to Tamaki… who was making a point to stare at his food.

“Tamaki, how’s your training been going?” you asked.

He glanced towards Mirio who paused his conversation with Nejire to tell you all about this new move that Tamaki was working on. You smiled and nodded but you weren’t too happy with this.

Nejire sensed it and this time told Mirio that she needed to show him something. Tamaki made to go with them but she quickly said, “Nope, only Mirio,” and practically dragged him away.

Second attempt.

“You work with Fatgum, right?” you asked. “He’s one of my favourite heroes. Is he just as friendly in real life?”

Tamaki gave a small nod but said nothing else.

“Why’d you choose to work with him?”

There was a moment of silence and then Tamaki muttered out something about food-related quirks. It was so soft that he honestly may as well have not answered for all the information you got. You wondered if it was just you but you knew it wasn’t.

“During my patrols the other night, we found this gang with a guy who could create like spikes from his feet. They made him a surprisingly fast runner but we caught him eventually. I became a parkour expert during the chase.”

Tamaki didn’t respond at all.

So you sighed in way that you knew he wouldn’t notice and just resigned yourself to silence. It was better than speaking to yourself at least.

Minutes went by and you considered sending Nejire a message to tell her to just come back when Tamaki spoke.

It was still soft but it was actually directed toward you. “What happened to the rest of the gang if you were chasing one guy?”

You looked up with an excitement that you really hoped wasn’t too visible. “Well, thankfully I wasn’t alone and the other work study students got them. But of course, I ended up having to chase the fast guy.”

“They always try and get me to deal with the big groups,” he said. “Fatgum thinks my quirk is good for crowd control.”

“You know, I could really see that. Have you ever been like really out of your depth?”

“All the time. Once…”

And that was how you started your friendship with Amajiki Tamaki.

Tailman

Japan’s public transport system was one of the best in the world, that was something you believed with an utmost sincerity. But like anything, it always runs the risk of getting stuck behind a hero-incident.

You were on your way home from a day that felt like it had dragged by at the pace of a snail. Most of what you wanted to get done hadn’t happened so, though it wasn’t particularly bad, it was boring and bland. All you had been looking forward to was getting home and finally just sleeping for as long as you could.

The train jostled slightly as it left the station and you felt safe enough to let go of the grab handle for a short while. You knew the train route better than anybody else, having to ride it multiple times in a day.

You scrolled on your phone and just counted the minutes to each turn and hiccup in the train’s path. Everything was going accourding to plan.

And then, from somewhere outside the train, you heard a massive explosion.

A battle was happening in the city and you could see the glints of light from where you were standing. You reached up for your grab handle. Unfortunately, you moved too slow.

The train came to a jerking halt and you found yourself tumbling backward as it tried to continue forward. You accidentally slammed into the guy behind you, stepping on his foot and just about headbutting him.

The guy steadied you and helped you stand once the train had come to a full stop.

“I am so sorry,” you said, turning to face him.

“It’s no problem.”

He looked familiar enough that you stared a little – trying to identify where you knew him from. His blond hair and dark eyes didn’t stand out too much but then you spotted the tufted tail over his shoulder.

“You’re part of U.A.’s hero course, aren’t you?” you asked, a little too excited but unable to help yourself.

He seemed momentarily confused but a blush spread across his face, nevertheless. “Yeah, I am. How did you know?”

“I recognise you from the sports festival,” you admitted. “Sorry, I’m sure you get that a lot. And also, sorry for standing on your foot. Your quirk is really cool by the way and I’m talking a bit much now so I’m sorry.”

“You’ve apologised way too much now,” he laughed. “It’s okay and thanks. My tail often gets overlooked because of the flashier quirks.”

You frowned. “Really? But it’s so cool.”

He smiled and shrugged, as though resigned to a simple fact. “It’s just a tail.” He looked through the window. “Looks like the fight’s going to take a while.”

You couldn’t see much and most people were already clamoring to get to the best spot to watch. “That’s fine,” you said. “As long as Mountain Lady doesn’t break the tracks again… that’s happened to me before I had to walk for almost two hours to get home.”

He chuckled. “I’ve had something similar but my tram got overturned. Honestly, I hope to become a hero that never causes such extreme property damage.”

“I’m sure the city will thank you if nobody else does,” you joked. “And I will too… though, if I’m being honest, I don’t actually know your name.”

“Ojiro,” he said. “My current hero name is Tailman but it’s more of a work in progress.”

You giggled. “I like it. It’ll work great on merchandise, you know?”

“Thank you. What’s your name?”

You told him happily. Though the battle left you waiting on the train for almost a full hour, you didn’t mind at all because you spent the entire time talking about anything and everything. Right before you left, you had offered Ojiro your number and he had gladly taken it.

Tentacole

Some people said that you were far too skittish to be in a hero school. Well, most people said it. Honestly, it was quite offending but also very correct in almost every way.

Loud noises made you jump. Insects or insect-like quirks made you very uncomfortable. There was even somebody in the school who made lights flicker on and off, never failing to make you leave a room the moment that they entered. You tried to stick with your friends at all times but it wasn’t possible for them to always be there.

It was later in the afternoon when you walked through the halls to notice a dark sky overhead.

You shivered while staring up at it, knowing that a storm would definitely be rolling in soon. If you could, you would have headed home immediately and attempted to hide from the noise that was sure to come.

But you didn’t have that option available.

You made your way to your next class, avoiding people and keeping an unwavering eye on the weather. Perhaps you should have just pretended it didn’t exist because you saw the moment that lightning flashed. Thunder followed and you jumped.

Your bag nearly fell on the floor as you dashed to hide behind the least scary person nearby.

Who just so happened to be one of the hero course students?

You hadn’t meant to cower behind him but he was tall and gave off an insane feeling of protection. It had been instinct. But you quickly realised that you probably shouldn’t hide behind a complete stranger.

You forced yourself to step away from him and bowed your head in apology. “I’m sorry for my actions,” you said. “I just got scared by the thunder.”

He was incredibly tall and had a complete multiplex of limbs. A mask hid the majority of his face but when he spoke, you could still hear him clearly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about the weather, you know? U.A. is well protected from any lightning or storm winds.”

“It’s more just the sound,” you said nervously, glancing toward the sky. “I’m a little skittish about it.”

“You’re skittish about literally everything,” somebody said as they walked past.

It was one of your classmates who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. You chuckled nervously and fought back the temptation to follow her to class in order to feel safe. Everybody knew that you were a nervous person and many found it funny instead of worrying as they once had.

You blushed and stepped away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Sorry again. I really do get scared of everything.”

“It can’t be everything if you were willing to hide behind me,” he pointed out. “I’m pretty terrifying in my appearance.”

You scoffed at that, catching your rudeness seconds after it appeared. Hurriedly, you explained, “I don’t think you’re scary at all. Like your quirk is awesome and all but it’s not like you could kill me by not paying attention.”

“And you know many quirks like that?”

“I’m sure you do also.”

He nodded slowly just as another crack of thunder rolled across the sky. You jumped a little but managed to not run away. “Do you want me to walk you to your classroom? It might make you feel a little safer.”

You blinked at him. “Are you sure? Won’t it make you late also?”

“It shouldn’t.”

The two of you walked side-by-side through the halls, his height practically shielding you from the storm outside. You were eternally grateful, especially when the rain picked up as you were nearing your class. When you arrived, you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for the escort…”

“Shoji.”

Tsukuyomi

Being stuck in the dorms took some getting used to.

You found that you couldn’t sleep most nights, tossing and turning while trying to get comfortable. The need for them was clear but you couldn’t help hating the reason behind it all. Your home was comfortable and here you often found random mushrooms growing across the kitchen counters.

It was late one night and you had found yourself staring at the ceiling for about an hour before deciding to do something about it. You climbed out of bed and threw on your favourite jacket with little thought. There had to be something to be done.

You walked down to the main room and found that everybody had retired to their rooms. The kitchen was barren and the front door was… unlocked?

It certainly wasn’t meant to be but you didn’t question it.

Instead, you slipped out of the dorms and closed the door tightly behind you. The fresh night air invigorated your senses and you turned onto the main path. There was no destination in mind for you. All you wanted to do was walk.

When you initially spotted another person, you started getting nervous. What if the door had been a trick? Would villains try to lure students from their dorms?

But you soon recognised the bird-like features of a student from 1A. Tokoyami.

“Hey,” you greeted, waving so that he didn’t get a fright like you had.

He frowned and you both came to a stop, walking paths having led you face to face with one another. “I wasn’t expecting to find another person out here,” he said. “I thought these midnight walks were pretty uncommon.”

“So did I,” you joked. “Do you mind if I join you? Some company is always better than walking alone.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

You fell into step beside him and the two of you strolled through the main areas of U.A.’s grounds. Neither one of you wanted to leave which worked out well. Fireflies drifted past your nose and crickets sang their cheery tune.

“Do you struggle to sleep?” Tokoyami asked.

“A little. The dorms are quite an adjustment from what I’m used to. What about you? What are you doing out here so late?”

Tokoyami looked up at the sky. “I’ve always liked the night,” he said. “The darkness is welcoming and filled with far less expectations than the day. It’s unfortunate that my quirk keeps me away from it as much as it does. Otherwise, I often think that I may just become nocturnal.”

“I get that. When I was a kid, I’d sometimes drag my blankets out to the garden and just sleep under the stars.”

“I never thought that the two of us may have something in common,” Tokoyami mused. “Though, if I’m being honest, I didn’t think too much of you. I know your class and your quirk but little else.”

You giggled. “I was just thinking about it. It’s surprising how little our classes interact even though we’re all working toward one goal.”

“It’s a pity, honestly.”

You glanced around at the darkness and a thought occurred to you. “Would you be fine with bringing out Dark Shadow here? Or are the streetlights not strong enough?”

“They’d be fine but I often like to have my thoughts away from him,” Tokoyami said. “With training, I’ve grown used to having him around constantly but sometimes, the quiet is nice.” He glanced at you. “I appreciate your company quite a bit though.”

“Oh, thanks.” It was a good thing that the dark could hide your blush so well.

Uravity

The roof of U.A. had become your safe spot for many reasons – not least of which was your ability to get there with an ease that befuddled many other students. Even you didn’t know if it was more because of your quirk or if you were just talented at climbing.

What you did know was that once you were up there, the rest of the world fell away and all you had to worry about was the clouds and an occasional bird.

One day, while you were relaxing close to the edge, a pen drifted past you. It was pink and adorable – floating through the air as though the laws of gravity meant naught to it.

You reached out and took it from where it was floating. It continued trying to leave your hands but, after a little while, the effect seemed to wear off. You twirled it between your fingers, wondering if it belonged to somebody in specific.

Then a second pen appeared and you took that one too.

It became a slight game. You allowed them to get high enough before capturing them and soon, you had a small pile of stationary in your pockets. They were surely coming from somebody and you planned to return them as soon as you got down.

Then, a small notepad appeared. On the first page, a little ‘Hi’ was written in cursive with a heart doodled beside it.

You flipped over to a new page and wrote your own greeting aside a quick flower. Then, you allowed the notepad to drift back over the edge. It rose for a short while but then gravity came back and it plummeted toward the ground. You watched it go and hoped that it didn’t land in dirt or anything.

Thankfully, it didn’t seem to because it soon came up with a new message. ‘I’m Uraraka. What’s your name?’

You wrote down a response and the notepad dropped again. Soon, it returned, telling you that your name was very pretty. That made you laugh and blush a little.

In return, you asked why she was sending notes to you and she said that she had been trying to get her quirk more accurate. Apparently, she could take away gravity from objects and she’s working on holding it for longer.

You asked if she wanted her stationary back and she said no, it was okay. You could give it back later.

Being a bit flirtatious, you had asked if she wanted to get a milkshake when you gave it back and, to your immense surprise, she said that sounded like fun. The conversation continued through the notepad with much laughter until you realised something sad. You had run out of paper to write on.

Uraraka realised this also and she put a sad face on the final page.

So you leaned over the top of the roof and glanced around to see if anybody was looking up. Sure enough, you quickly spotted a brunette who was almost directly beneath you and wearing a soft pink outfit.

You waved and received one in return.

Flipping to the front of your notebook, you scribbled down your number and put several arrows to make sure she saw it. To your surprise, she actually caught the notepad when you dropped it instead of letting it hit the ground.

She gave you a thumbs up when she noticed that you were watching. Soon, your phone buzzed as a message from an unknown number came through.

‘Hi!’

You took a picture of your view and sent it through, mentioning that she was smaller than you thought. She laughed and asked if you had good signal up there. The best, you were sure. Then your phone began ringing and you answered a video call with the cutest girl you had ever seen.

“I didn’t know you could get to the roof,” she laughed.

“With the right dedication, you can do anything.”

#bnha x reader #bnha scenarios #mina x reader #kirishima x reader #shoji x reader #ojiro x reader #tokoyami x reader #uraraka x reader #tamaki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #shinso x reader

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scarlettriot · 3 years

Text

When one feels like shit, one writes things to feel better :)

This is based on a very short headcanon I had a little while ago that I've decided to make into a little fic. I hope you enjoy.

Featuring: Mainly Pro Hero Red Riot. Also includes Pro Heroes Dynamight, Chargebolt, Earphone Jack, and Pinky

Y/N: They/Them (Y/H/N: Your Hero Name)

Warnings: Kidnapping (well, not kidnapping exactly, adultnapping), restrained, minor physical injuries, drugged into unconsciousness

HAPPY ENDING THOUGH, I PROMISE!

Summary: You've been captured by villains. Wonderful, right, just how you wanted your Friday to go. Your quirk isn't working thanks to them pumping you full of suppressant drugs. You were actually having a hard time remembering how you were abducted. You're only able to remember being on patrol and something smelling off before passing out. Now, thanks to the drugs, you were having a hard time remaining conscious in this...basement? Warehouse or it could be a factory... Someone would find you, your friends were perfectly capable. You just hoped it'd be before anything worse happened.

When you didn't report in at the specified time and weren't answering their calls, the rest of the heroes at the Alliance Agency grew concerned. Jiro was already pulling up your location on your cell phone while Kaminari searched for the tracker in your suit.

Unfortunately, they both ended up at the same location, a dumpster behind an apartment complex, you were nowhere to be found.

Bakugo and Kirishima, who were also concerned about your whereabouts, took a different approach since neither was too talented at the tech side of things.

Kirishima canvases the immediate area around your phone and tracker, using his easy-going smile and charming personality to coax information out of anyone who was willing to talk to him in the area. Meanwhile, Bakugo played to his own strengths and threatened the low lives of the area.

"Someone said they noticed two guys, 'helping' someone in a hero suit down the street earlier. The description of the person and suit match Y/N." Kirishima could see lights in a few of the windows flickering but no signs of people moving about in the apartments above. He couldn't help but wonder if you were in one of them.

He got a grunt of a response from Bakugo through his earpiece. "Yeah, well, I just persuaded some scum into giving up an abandoned factory location about 10 blocks from here. Says he doesn't know what they're doin' but he's seen people goin' in and out all the time. Seems odd since it's abandoned."

The location pinged on Kirishima's phone. "I'm six blocks away. Meet you there."

The building in question looked like it hadn't been in operation for at least a decade when he arrived but fresh tire tracks him something was definitely going on. Not to mention the building had electricity running to it judging by the lights he could see.

When Bakugo showed up minutes later they decided to enter through a southern entrance that Ashido had pointed out after pulling up blueprints at HQ.

"Most of the electrical usage is centered in that location." She explained, "If you're going to find anything useful, I'm betting it'll be there. Chargebolt and Earphone Jack will meet you as soon as they're done collecting security footage from the suspected abduction sight."

Bakugo scoffed. They were Dynamight and Red Riot, they didn't need any damn backup.

Kirishima broke the lock on the door with a sharp tug rather than letting Bakugo shoot it off with an explosion. "You take downstairs and I'll go up. We stay on coms." Kirishima nodded and started his descent.

There was a single guard with a gun resting on his knee and headphones in his ears making Kirishima's job too easy. Not even bothering to harden his skin, he whacked the back of the guy's head and he crumpled to the floor unconscious.

"Took out two guards and a scientist. Oh, there's a lab up here too."

"One guard taken out. Moving into another room now."

The metal door was locked up tight and the guard had a surprising lack of keys on their person. They could have been close by but Kirishima was impatient. He was aware this would be loud but at least it was efficient.

He hardened an arm and with one, two, slices of his hand diving into the metal he was able to create a hole... and garner attention. A knife broke across his hand and two gunshots were fired from inside the room, doing nothing to him.

"Gonna have to do better than that!" He roared with laughter.

Kirishima ripped the metal wide and stepped through. He wasted no time, grabbing the gun point-blank, bending the barrel upward with a devilish grin before turning on the man with two daggers. A green substance ran off his skin and down onto the blades. It burned slightly when they slashed at him but Kirishima was used to Ashido's acid by now that this was practically child's play!

The other guy came at him with an orange beam of light right from his eyes that managed to break through a bit of his hardened skin. He could feel blood start to trickle down from his forehead. "Now, we're getting somewhere!"

Using his body weight, Kirishima shoved the man with the daggers down to the ground, disarming him quickly, and used his own blades to live into his friend's leg. He watched as the acid melted the fabric and left black burns on the man's skin, nasty stuff. He tired another beam in retaliation but Kirishima dodged it this time.

"I'd love to keep playing around but I'm lookin' for someone." He used one hand to hoist the man up and another to shield his eyes. Instantly, Kirishima's hand started to burn but he held steady. "Do you know where Y/H/N is?" The beam pulsed stronger, "Fine. If you won't help me then I have no use for you." He sat him back on the ground, a harden fisted to the back of the head had him good and knocked out.

"What about you?" Kirishima asked, returning his focus to the dagger man, "Do you know where they are? Your operation is a bust, the least you can do is tell me where my friend is. I might even put in a good word for you if ya do."

He grabbed a discarded metal pipe and the man must have taken it as a threat because he lifted shaky hands that were no longer coated in green. "B-back there with the others."

"Others? Other victims or others of you?"

"Subjects, we have other subjects!"

Rage pulsed in Kirishima's veins but he kept a lid on it. "Right then. Thanks." He bent the pipe around the man's hands and another around his ankles before speaking over the coms again.

"Y/N isn't the only victim. Dynamight, get down here."

He was running to the back of the room when he saw you along with five others. Your wrists had been bound by metal shackles suspended from a beam high on the wall that the tips of your toes were just brushing the concrete floor. You were slumped forward with IVs poked into both arms.

"Y/N?" He calmly approached but you didn't answer. You just hung there like a rag doll.

Kirishima lifted your head in his hands and saw a few cuts on your face that had dried blood still surrounding them but he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the steady drumming of your heart, shallow, but there. You were alive and that was all he cared about.

"Okay. Gonna stop whatever the hell these are..." He flipped switches on the IVs and continued to talk out loud about his process. "Then gotta get 'em outta you..."

With surprisingly delicate fingers, he pulled the needles from your arms. Stopping the small pools of blood with a few pieces of gauze and tape that someone had been so kind to leave behind.

He then wrapped his left arm snuggly around your body. Holding you against him in a way he hoped didn't hurt you any more than you already were. With his right hand, Kirishima reached up to the shackles just as you started to stir awake.

One side of him was so completely soft and caring, the other hard and brutal, snapping the manacles in a powerful grip and you fell against him completely.

"Whadda hero." His ears glowed pink from the compliment.

"I'm really glad I got you back."

A/N: I know it isn't my best writing by any means but I had to do something to distract myself. Hope you're all doing well <3

#mha #mha y/n #mha fluff #bnha #red riot #eijiro kirishima #kirishima headcanon #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #kirishima fluff

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seijorhi · 4 years

Text

Meet the Parents Pt. 2

Breaking Point - Atsumu & Osamu

TW implied non con, nsfw

Your parents are already pissed.

Apparently the school called when you didn’t show up to your classes after lunch.

In all fairness, you’d tried. Twenty minutes in the girls bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink with shaking hands, staring at your reflection. There’s hickeys on your neck, a bite mark that the collar of your jacket isn’t quite high enough to hide. Your hair’s mussed, lips swollen and red - but even if you fix all that and wipe away your tears, you don’t think you have the strength to walk back into the classroom knowing that they’ll be there waiting for you.

So you don’t go back.

Both of your parents are still at work by the time you make it home, unlocking the house with the spare key hidden under the base of the potted geraniums on the porch. It’s a good thing, because you don’t think you have it in you to try and lie to them right now, but admitting the truth out loud-

‘F-fuck, darlin’, you keep suckin’ me in like that and I’m not sure I’m gonna last.’

‘You gonna cum for us, baby? Yeah, gonna cum all nice ‘n pretty for us, aren’tcha?”

- is somehow even worse. Instead you choose to shower, the water turned so hot that it’s almost scalding, but you barely notice, sitting with your arms wrapped around your knees on the tile floor as the steaming water gushes over you. You don’t know how long you stay there, motionless, shaking, but at some point the water runs cold and you have to force your aching muscles to move.

Both of your parents are waiting fo you when you get out, your mother practically fuming, ams folded across her chest, glaring daggers at you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble by way of greeting. There’s no point in trying to deny it, they already know that you ditched - there’s no wriggling out of this one. “I wasn’t feeling good.”

Your mother huffs, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, “Well then why didn’t you go to the school nurse, sweetheart? Or tell somebody - anybody - that you were leaving?! You had us worried sick, you know. This behaviour really isn’t like you.”

She continues to rant for almost ten whole minutes while you stand there and take it without a word. What can you say?

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” The words are robotic, but they seem to do the trick.

She relents with a sigh, softening as she takes in the sorry state of you. A hand is pressed to your forehead, eyes studying you closely, “Are you feeling better at least, or do I need to call the doctor?”

You force as much of a smile as you can muster onto our face, “A little.”

But it’s your father, watching from the kitchen, who frowns. “You sure about that, little one? You’re not looking so good...”

“I’m okay, promise... I just think I need to rest for a bit.”

He doesn’t believe you - you can tell from the furrowing of his brow, but he just nods. “Alright, well if you say so. Why don’t you go have a lie down for a bit, we’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

Sleep is beyond you, but you lie down anyway, throwing on your headphones and trying to drown out everything else - the intrusive thoughts that wont leave you alone, the phantom hands hands you can still feel touching you, groping you, when an awful thought occurs to you.

They both came inside of you... what if... what if you get pregnant?

Nausea turns your stomach and you’re rolling out of bed and sprinting for the door, just as somebody knocks on your door. “Sweetheart?” Your dad. Like a deer caught in headlights you freeze, hand outstretched for the door knob. “Are you feeling any better?”

Swallowing down the bile you can feel creeping up your throat, you open the door. “Mhm. Is dinner ready?”

There’s an odd look in his eyes as he appraises you, and you can only pray to god that the hoodie you’ve thrown on is enough to cover the marks your loving soulmates so generously left behind. “Not exactly. You have some visitors, your mother asked me to come and get you.”

Your dad knows your friends. Your dad likes your friends, which makes the agitated expression on his face a little perplexing. Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding, following him when he turns on his heel to make his way back into the living room.

The sound of laughter reaches you before you see them. Your mother, head thrown back, a hand over her chest - giggling - and standing beside her in your living room, fresh from their practice, is the twins.

You blanch as two sets of identical brown eyes fall to you. You ignore the phantom tugging around your pinkies, ignore the blood draining from your face and simply focus on trying not to collapse into a fit of tears as one after the other, they smirk.

“Honey! Isn’t this so sweet, your boys decided to come check in on you!”

You can’t blame her for the wide, almost devious grin she’s sporting. To her this is a sign that after years of bullying and bad attitudes, your soulmates have finally decided that they actually want to make amends and try for a fresh start. This is all she’s wanted for you for years.

“Yeah, we were real worried when ya just ran off on us after lunch,” Osamu says.

“Ya left in such’a hurry you forgot yer bag. Thought we’d bring it over for ya,” Atsumu adds, hooded eyes glittering sharply.

All three of them are looking towards you expectantly as Atsumu holds it out and it takes every ounce of strength you possess to force your legs to move forward and take it from him.

“T-thank you,” you mutter, and Atsumu’s shark like grin widens.

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

A hand comes down on your shoulder and you visibly flinch, but it’s just your dad, standing behind you glaring daggers at the twins.

Your mother is all but oblivious to the tension in the room, beaming as she stares between you and your soulmates as if she can already hear wedding bells.

“You boys are so thoughtful, aren’t they sweetheart?” She turns to you with expectant eyes, and you nod stiffly. “Why don’t the two of you stay for dinner, hm? You must be starving after training so hard!”

Your stomach lurches, but before you can even utter a word your dad speaks for you.

“Absolutely not.”

The temperature in the room drops. Your mother looks like she’s about three seconds away from throttling him. Even the twins, usually the first to try and stir the pot, are unusually silent as your parents stare each other down.

“What do you mean, honey? Don’t you think-”

“I think,” he says, cutting her off smoothly, “that you’re being a little too quick to forget that it’s not your decision whether those little shits are welcome here.”

Gently, he turns you around to face him. When you were seven, he was quick to laugh off the twins antics as ‘boys being boys’. He got a little less tolerant when you started coming home crying more often than not, when scraped knees and pulled pigtails meant that you’d withdraw in on yourself. Maybe he’d spent one too many nights comforting his little girl when you tearfully asked him why your soulmates hated you. Your mother might be willing to let bygones be bygones if she thought it would bring you happiness in the long run, but your dad was less forgiving.

He eyes you for a long moment, brows knitted together. “Do you want them to stay, little one?”

He’d back down if you asked, you know he would. He might never particularly like the twins, might always hold a grudge for what they’d done to you, even if you ever found it within yourself to forgive them. He doesn’t even know the worst of it and there isn’t a doubt in your mind that if he ever found out, he’d actually kill them.

But if you smiled right now and told him that you wanted them to stay, he’d hold his tongue - because he loves you. You swallow, eyes darting back to where the twins stand watching.

You know you’ll pay for it later, tomorrow when you’re stuck with them once more, but this is your house. For now at least, they can’t touch you here.

“No.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #tw implied non con #my writing #BD drabbles

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fjsj · 3 years

Text

fake dating p3 (final)

Frank Morrison x Reader

wordcount: 1482

warnings: blood, suggestive content, brief background!Julie/Susie

A/N: heyoo, this is the last chapter for this little drabble. I hope you guys have enjoyed it :3c //please forgive me I was very tired when I wrote this but hopefully the quality is up to par

With little to no thought, you reached out and grabbed ahold of Frank's hand before he could get too far into the lodge without you. Your fingers easily slipped between his, but he did not return the grip. The gauze wound around his fingers was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his exposed flesh that was rough with callouses. Perhaps you had gone too far? His hand remained limp in yours, and your heart sank into your stomach. You weren't sure how this would be too far after the little scene on the porch, but you began to withdraw your hand anyways. Before you could even untangle your fingers, he finally returned the gesture with a grip like a vice. It was borderline painful as if he was trying to keep sand from pouring out from between his fingers.

You winced and opened your mouth to complain, but shut it once again as Joey rounded the corner. His eyes honed in on where you and Frank were attached, a grin quickly splitting across his face. "I never thought you'd actually have the balls to ask them out, Frankie." He ribbed, crossing his arms across his chest and looking the two of you up and down.

"Shut up." Frank grumbled, his grip on your hand only increasing in pressure. His head turned away, and you had to wonder if it was to hide a blush.

The dull pain spreading through your digits was ignorable, especially at this new admission. Joey could just be teasing, but...what if Frank really had been contemplating this for a while? Sure, it was just a rouse for Julie but he had said your name instead of anyone else's, hadn't he?

"Y/N, blink twice if he's holding you against your will." Joey teased, and you couldn't help the smile it brought to your face even as you rolled your eyes.

"Nah, I'm here voluntarily. I think...how long does it take for Stockholm to set in?" You bumped into Frank's side gently, a substitute for elbowing him.

"Haha, real funny." Frank responded, completely deadpan, before forcibly dragging you past Joey and into the living room. Obviously, he wasn't amused with the conversation, but you weren't really sure what had set him off. Usually, he instigated stupid jokes like those, especially with the other Legion members.

You stumbled after him, not having much choice in the matter. He only released you when he made it to the couch, hopping over the back of it to flop onto the old cushions. The springs creaked from the sudden weight. One of these days that couch was going to snap in two, and you doubted the Entity would be kind enough to provide them a new one.

"Hey, while you're here see if you can pull that stick out of his ass." Joey called out after you, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You turned to give him a two-fingered salute, "Aye aye captain. Should I beat him with it after?"

You could practically feel Frank glowering behind you as you and Joey burst into laughter. "Please do." Joey finally said once the giggles subsided, before leaving the way you two had come in. The door shut firmly behind him.

"What the fuck was that?" The bite in Frank's tone made your blood run cold, and you turned to look down at him on the couch. He looked angry and...hurt? No, that couldn't be right. Your smile faltered and your brows furrowed together, "What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to be flirting with me, not Joey."

You had to pick your jaw up off the floor and bite down on your tongue to keep from laughing again. You looped around the couch and sat down next to him. You propped your elbow up on the back of the couch, sitting facing him, your knees knocking against his. "Aww, is baby jealous?"

From the corner of your eye, you caught Julie coming down the stairs with Susie in tow, their pinkies looped together. You quickly averted your gaze back to Frank, who was still bitching about your 'flirting' with Joey. "Frank," You said, voice low, hoping he'd shut up for a moment as you sat up on your knees. Your left hand came up to rest on his shoulder, your right cupping the side of his neck, using his body to steady yourself as you swung a leg over his lap and straddled him. Your knee slotted between his leg and the arm of the couch before you sat back onto his thighs.

The new position made him freeze. Big, bad, overly confident Frank now a deer in the headlights. Your fingers trailed along the tattoo at his throat, and you leaned into his ear. "Don't lose your nerve now." You whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. His hands found their way to your hips with a firm but gentle pressure to hold you in place. Not that you were planning on going anywhere.

You pulled away, just far enough to look him in the eye. What you saw there was unexpectedly hungry.

There was no going back now. Frank lunged forward and captured your lips with his, if it hadn't been for his hands anchoring you to his lap, you both might've landed on the floor. There wasn't a doubt in your mind he wouldn't have chased your touch if you had tumbled off the couch. He kissed you like you were a lost little lamb and he, the wolf, was only sampling what was to come.

There was a passion and ferocity behind it that you weren't expecting, at least not from something that was just supposed to be pretend. Your hands ran up along his chest and across his shoulders before linking together behind his neck. Your hips hitched forward on their own accord, the sudden friction causing a growl to rip from Frank's throat. He bit down on your lower lip, a mixture of a moan and a squeak escaping your mouth into his as blood burst into your mouth.

Abruptly, Frank's forehead connected with yours and your teeth clinked together harshly. You pulled away in confusion, and Frank did the same, hand raising to rub at the back of his head. Julie's shoe rested beside the both of you on the couch, and she stood smugly a few feet away. "Who needs a fucking room now?" She jeered, and for a moment you thought Frank was going to shove you onto the floor to go after her. Instead, his grip on your hips returned, strength renewed, as he deliberately dragged you against him. Your face buried into his shoulder, hoping to muffle the noises that wanted to spill out of you. You were sure your face was blood red from embarrassment if nothing else. "Fuck off, Julie, I'm in the middle of something." Frank raised one hand to flip her off, without even bothering to turn and look. He would give up everything just to keep the sight of you blushing and trying to hide in his hoodie in view.

You heard the two girls going back up the stairs and you let out a shaky breath. "Just remember, I know where you sleep." Frank called out over your head, his touch leaving once again only to chuck her shoe at the staircase. Or at least that's only what you could assume. You weren't about to look and let Frank see how flustered you really were. Besides, he didn't seem to mind, as his arms easily coiled around your waist.

When their steps finally faded and your breathing leveled out, you turned your head, cheek now pressed up against his shoulder instead. "So, uh...are we done now?" You asked, unsure. You'd held up your end of the bargain, right? Now you'd leave and in a couple of days the whole thing will have blown over. The thought made your heart jump into your throat, could you even face him after this? He would return to his usual cold indifference to you, while you struggled to push the phantom feelings of his lips on yours away.

He pulled you closer to him, this time without the suggestive motive behind it, just an attempt to keep you close. He turned slightly, his lips ghosting against your forehead. "Do you want to be?" His voice was a whisper, hesitant like he was afraid of your answer.

Your heart skipped and you pulled away from him, leaning back in his lap. A grin tugging at your lips, and you tilted your head questioningly. "Frank Morrison, are you asking me out for real?" A faint blush that reached all the to the tips of his ears blossomed across his features. "If your answer is yes...then yeah, I am."

You closed the distance and kissed him again, mumbling a happy 'yes' into his mouth.

#frank morrison x reader #legion x reader #dbd x reader #most of you asked for a happy ending so :)

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shingia · 3 years

Note

Hiii!!!

I don’t know if we can request more than one for the weekly prompt. But if we can, can I get another iwazumi with 🦿? I’m really interested to see what you come up with.

Also, how are you?

hiii !! you sure can ! thanks for the request btw, it took me some time to come up with an idea but i think i’m satisfied with it (hope you’ll be too !) <3 and i’m doing good thx, my sister’s coming home tomorrow and i haven’t seen her in two months so that’s pretty cool :) how about you ? <3

-> ladies, gents and non binary friends, have some dad! iwaizumi being a finding nemo enthusiast

-> timeskip! iwaizumi x f!reader | mainly fluff | also, dad iwa <3 | word count : 0.7K

there was absolutely nothing in this world that could not be cured by the heavenly sight you came home to every evening after a long and exhausting day of work. a moody boss, grumpy clients, a broken coffee machine… it all disappeared the moment your eyes laid on the tiny hand of your daughter gripping your husband’s pinky, her two pigtails tickling the hollow of his neck.

it was an immutable ritual, as established as the earth rotating around the sun, your daughter’s evenings were all spent snuggled up against iwa’s chest. you were actually starting to fear the day this habit would have to be broken.

but she was only three - and time flowed so quickly that you did not have much time to be nervous about the future.

bag dropped to the floor, you hurried to the living room where you were greeted by one sleepy smile and one bright grin. « i think daddy’s falling asleep » you chuckled, pressing a loud kiss on your daughter’s chubby cheeks before doing the same on iwa’s forehead. « no he’s not » he corrected you with a poorly convincing frown, his hand reaching for your cheek to pull you in for another kiss. a real one this time. behind you, the tv was loud - louder than you would have wanted it to be - and it only took you a few seconds to recognize what movie was playing.

« haji. again ? it’s the fourth time this week ! » you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the screen where nemo’s dad was frantically looking for his son on the screen.

hearing your words, your daughter outstretched her short arm towards you, her hand wide open as she uttered a slurred « f-five ».

you didn’t know what was the most surprising, the fact that your 30 year-old husband was willingly watching ‘finding nemo’ for the fifth time this week, or the fact that your three-year-old daughter had actually kept count.

« what ? you’re gonna sue me for liking this fuc- this stupid fish ? » he dramatically sighed, bringing her closer like they were an exclusive club you were obviously not part of. and she did not seem to mind it, imitating her father’s loud sigh with her high-pitched voice.

amused at the thought that you had really made a carbon copy of your husband, you headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. watching them from afar, you took a few seconds to properly appreciate the blessed sight of your two stubborn hotheads, both getting soft in front of a clownfish on his first day of school. but the smile on your lips had a bittersweet taste, because the reason behind iwa’s choice of movie was very clear to you, and it brought an unwanted twinge to your heart.

as lighthearted as it was, the story of a fish with an atrophied fin sounded a bit too familiar to your family for his choice to be a coincidence. because under the blanket they were both tucked in was hiding what had been - and would probably always be - your daughter’s biggest insecurity. indeed, resting on iwa’s thighs was not only her sweet and plump figure, but also the cold metal of the artificial leg she still had to get used to.

maybe this movie was his way of coping, all while showing her that, if anything, being different was a strength more than a weakness. but you were not worried about your daughter at all, because whoever was raised by iwaizumi hajime was destined to reach their goals. it was a fact, even more established than their daily father-daughter routine, which was no small thing to say.

whatever support she lacked, her father was here to make up for it, lifting her a bit higher every day until she’d learn to walk alone. he probably thought that he still had a long way to go, but you knew from the way she immediately called for him in the morning that he was already the greatest hero of her life - and yours.

#dad iwa has my whole heart and even more #but dad iwa watching finding nemo owns my entire life #weeklypromptevent #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff

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the-a-word-2214 · 3 years

Text

Bundle of Joy

summary: (Y/N) reminisces on how she and Pierre met while carrying his child

pairing: Pierre Bezukhov x reader

word count: 1,488

warnings: pregnancy, fluff, mention of childbirth

As you gently run your hand over the ever-growing bump of your stomach, you can’t help but remind yourself of how you managed to get so lucky. It was all thanks to the man who had, quite literally, stumbled into your life.

————————————————

The cold splash of champagne alerted you as a figure stumbled forward into you. In an instant, you gasped and clutched your dress. The man in front of you mumbled a quick apology as he tried to stop the spread of the stain on your new dress.

“I do apologize a thousand times over, I’m very sorry madam.” He stutters as he tries to fix his mess.

“Oh, it’s alright. This dress could’ve used some spicing up anyways.” You chuckle as you gently touch the hand that was on your waist.

He laughs with you once he realizes that you weren’t mad at him. Sure, accidents happen but you’d heard the tale of the young man’s misfortune.

“Pierre Bezukhov, Miss. And you are?” He bows his head to you.

“(Y/N) (L/N). I’m no one, nothing to worry about. I won’t mortify you anymore for your accident. Truly, it’s fine.” You give the gentleman a warm smile.

Your father didn’t have an heir so you were expected to find a husband, specifically one with money.

Along with the pesky rumors of his misfortune, you’d also heard about how intelligent Pierre was for his age and his goofy demeanor. You found him to be endearing and kind, nothing short of a wonderful person at a first glance.

The way he stood back from a dancing crowd, preferring to watch from the side. How he figured he was too clumsy to dance without the right partner.

All of these things flooded your mind as he decided to stick by you for the remainder of the evening.

“So, madam, what brings you to an event like this? Are you intrigued by the festivities?”

You shake your head, laughing softly.

“My mother made me attend only to leave me by the door as soon as we walked in. I don’t know anyone here, so I suppose she expected me to mingle.” You shrug your shoulders as you drink from the champagne in your cup.

“I don’t care for the festivities myself, I tend to keep to myself as well.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk toying at your freshly painted lips.

“So we do have something in common, Monsieur Pierre.”

————————————————

You’re pulled from your thoughts just as your husband walks into the room, his boots sounding on the floor as he swiftly approaches you.

“Are you alright, my love? How’s the baby?”

“We’re just fine, Pierre. No need to worry.”

Your husband was always concerned about your health and the state of the baby. His pacing when any little thing would happen would always make you nervous. You always had to reassure him, saying that nothing dangerous would happen and that everything was fine.

He was constantly reading about ways that the baby could be affected while in the womb. He also has doubts about his abilities as a father considering his relationship with his own father.

“Are you sure? I read that stress can affect the baby.”

“I’m sure, Pierre. I promise.” You hold out your pinky to him like you used to do when you first met him.

————————————————

You were both drunk as skunks, giggling to yourselves outside one of the obligatory parties that he had to attend. Your laughter filled the garden as you sipped from your third flute of champagne.

“Alright, hold your pinky out like this.”

You show him the pinky gesture that your mother used to show you when you were little.

“You use this little gesture when you want to make a sincere promise to someone.”

He mimics your gesture and smiles, hooking it around yours.

“This is very nice, it makes me feel like a child again.”

————————————————

Later in the evening, when it was time for you both to wind down and get some sleep, your hormones decided to give you a wake-up call.

It felt as if you had every reason to cry in that instant. The world felt as though it were crashing down, even though you knew that wasn’t true.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffled and shook your husband’s arm. “Honey, are we really cut out to be parents?” You managed to get out as a sob wracked your body.

Pierre simply shushed you and held you close to him, stroking your back.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here for you. Is it the baby? Is that what’s upsetting you?”

You nod as you wipe away some of your tears.

“I’m sorry I’m being so dramatic. I know I’m being ridiculous.” You laugh and shake your head.

“It’s fine, my dear. You’re allowed to feel that way. I know that I was afraid when we first found out about your pregnancy.” He assures you.

————————————————

The Bezukhov family doctor was checking your health when he noticed something unusual in your urine. He also took into consideration your sudden morning sickness which seemed to be very unusual.

“I believe that you are pregnant, my dear.”

He told you as he packed up his kit of examining tools.

“Really? You think so. Pierre’s going to die.” He laughs at your comment and gives you a knowing smile.

“He’ll be fine, trust me, (Y/N).” He pats your arm before leaving, letting your husband come back into the room.

“Dear, there’s something that I should tell you.”

“Oh no, you’ve got a horrid disease.” He gasps as he takes a preparatory seat next you.

“No no, nothing like that. This is...good news actually.” You gather his hands in yours as you look him in the eyes.

“My love, we’re going to have a baby.”

Your heart nearly stops as he looks as if he might faint, his eyes a mix of fear and joy.

“I-I think that’s wonderful, (Y/N). A baby, who’d ever think that Pierre Bezukhov would father a child.” He lets out a laugh in disbelief as he pulls you closer for a heartfelt kiss.

————————————————

A few nights later, you were awoken in the late hours of the night to pain in your abdomen. It was unlike anything you’d felt before and you knew that the baby’s birth was nearby.

“Pierre, Pierre wake up. The baby’s coming.” You urged him awake as he jerked up, putting on his glasses.

“Oh my, the baby. Yes!” He shoots up, grabbing a nearby candle and taking it with him down the stairs.

“Everyone! The baby is coming, notify the midwife!” He calls out as he rushes down the stairs, almost tripping in the process.

————————————————

As the crowd in your room gathered, it began to add to your anxieties. Pierre stayed by your side the entire time, his hand latched onto your own to give you something to grip onto.

His hand was practically turning white from your strength. As one of your final contractions hit, you and nearly every other woman in the room breathed through the pain as a groan slipped past your lips.

“That’s it, dear. You’re almost done.” The midwife assured you as she gently helped the baby along.

With a final push, the baby was out. Everyone rushed to see it. Pierre had finally had enough though.

“Everyone, please! Give us some space. Might you give us that courtesy?!” He shouts to them as you steady your breathing. It was a miracle that you’d survived at all considering how dangerous the birthing process was.

Pierre made sure that in the final moments of it, that you weren’t disturbed like you had been through the first part of the process.

The aristocrats before you looked to each other before leaving the room. You sighed in relief as you mouthed a quiet “thank you” to your husband.

The midwife cleaned off the baby before handing it back to you, lying it’s head on your chest. Tears pooled in your eyes again as you gently kissed the infant’s head.

The brunette above you smiled and gently stroked the baby’s head as he watched in awe at the human that you’d made together.

“She has your eyes, my love. Look.” She slowly opens her eyes to look up at her father. Her eyes were indeed the beautiful shade of green that his were.

“That she does. She has your nose though, it’s cute as a button.”

“Congratulations to you both.” The midwife curtsies before excusing herself out of the room.

Pierre sits by you as you both relish in the moment together with your daughter. Of course this is made short as your other relatives welcome themselves back inside, immediately doting over the new future countess.

All was well, your lives forever changed for the better by the bundle of joy in your arms.

#paul dano #paul dano x reader #war and peace #war and peace 2016 #pierre bezukhov #pierre bezukhov x reader

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realcube · 3 years

Text

aoba johsai love language headcanons 💌

tw// swearing, sexual references

Tōru Oikawa

words of affirmation.

like he could’ve lost a match by a landslide and all you need to do is tell him that you’re proud of him and he’ll immediately feel better

well, it wouldn’t stop him from working harder or feeling bad for himself but it would definitely bring him some relief in the moment

and sometimes when he is practising, you’ll tell him that he’s doing amazing - just to boost his spirits - and it works

he’ll be thinking about you for the rest of the day

sometimes when he’s especially insecure, the thought will arise that perhaps you’re just complimenting him bc you feel bad for him

but the sincerity in your eyes assures him that you’d never lie to him about something like that

mostly bc you’ve never held back when insulting him so it just makes your compliments 10x more special and genuine

in the moment, he doesn’t appreciate when you jokingly call him ‘flattykawa’ or how you snicker whenever he misses a set

but when you give him praise, these little actions help him believe that you’re being truthful

the admiration wasn’t one-sided though as he often gives you some praise/body-worship 😊

only in public though, in private he’s a dick (but you give that same energy back)

he goes from ‘yeah, this my beautiful s/o (y/n). i’m so lucky to have them by my side tonight.’ etc

to ‘how’s my favourite goblin doing today?’

SORRY omFg I JUST THOUGHT OF OIKAWA HAVING YOU SAVED AS ‘goblin-chan 💚’ IN HIS PHONE UIVRLUSGBLAEIGB

Hajime Iwaizumi

his love language is acts of service

like..if you fill up his water bottle during practise for him

HIS FKN HEART

he will stutter out a thanks but really he wants to give you kisses and a hug but like..not while he is all sweaty

also, sometimes you’ll give him a massage if he is tense for whatever reason and during it - the whole time - his mind is just fixated on how lucky he is to have you 🥺

in return for being the most supportive s/o, he’ll try find ways that he can be of service to you but the best he can think of is just holding your bags and holding doors open for you

i mean, he tried to help you with your workload once but he kinda just messed it up, resulting in more work for you

and he tried to give you a massage once but he almost dislocated your shoulder

there was the one time tried to make you a cute breakfast but he burnt the toast, didn’t put enough flour into the pancakes and the orange juice had bits in it 🤢

so yeah, chauffeur/bodyguard! iwaizumi lol

Issei Matsukawa

the fandom has drilled it so far into my mind that matsukawa is a sex god- i- don’t even know what to believe anymore

does he actually have a personality besides that ?

anyway, his love language is physical touch sdfghjkl

what else could it be lol O-O

anyway, he loves it when you ruffle his hair 🥺

oh and he gets butterflies when hug him from behind 🦋

he’s probably playful with his touch tbh

like lots of side tickles, light ass taps, scooping you up to toss you over his shoulder, raspberries and neck pecks (^///^)

i really can’t imagine him being too rough with you

the meanest he could possibly be was when he picked you up bridal style on a cold winter day to then procced to dump you into a huge pile of snow

he just lives off of seeing you happy/laugh tbh

Takahiro Hanamaki

his love language is probably quality time

he just enjoys going out on long walks with you to just banter tbh

he’s slightly more talkative around but not really

he just enjoys listening to you and slipping in the occasional ‘same’ or ‘yeah.’

he finds anything you have to say interesting and even if you don’t talk at all, he’s just charmed by your presence 🥰

and he just finds average day activities more fun when you’re around

like washing dishes or folding clothes can get tedious when you’re doing it on your own but when you help him/talk to him while he is executing a task, it makes it more enjoyable

so he can’t even call you ‘annoying’ in a joking way bc he is lowkey a needy bf who will be in your DMs at 6PM on a weekday like ‘come over, i’m bored lol’

‘no ❤’

‘(ง •_•)ง please’

Kentarō Kyōtani

physical touch 🥺

but he doesn’t do it too often bc he’s always scared that he’s gonna hurt you (ಥ _ ಥ)

it’s obvious that he wants to though

like whenever y’all are walking beside each other he’ll make sure that he’ll hold his bags/food in the hand farther from you, so he can use his spare hand to lightly graze the back of yours with his pinkie every so often

or the way he locks his gaze onto your lips whenever he wants a kiss

or how he’ll hold an intense stare on your eyes while he’s resisting the urge to wrap you in a hug

you were a bit apprehensive to show affection at first bc the last thing you wanted to do was misread his social cues and go in for a hug, then get pushed away

but believe me, kyōtani would literally never push you away if you tried to give him a hug - no matter how mad he is

so you’ll probably have to initiate anything physical until he gets comfortable and learns how to control his own strength

but you’re fine with it though bc even though you’re the one who commences the cuddling, it’s not as though he’s disinterested in it

he shows you that he loves you by immediately hugging you back when you first wrap your arms around him and squeezing the air out of you, at first

he’s just so excited that he can finally touch you (❤´艸｀❤) he can’t contain it

but he’ll get less rough over time, especially if you point it out to him

‘kyō- my lungs-’ you wheezed as he squashed your torso

‘oh, my bad.’ he muttered, quickly releasing his tight grip on you and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Shigeru Yahaba

his love language is probably gift giving

idk why but i can just imagine him being the most extra bitch when it comes to like christmas, birthdays, holidays, halloween-

VALENTINES DAY omfg

IMAGINE YAHABA COMING UP TO YOU ON VALENTINE’S DAY WITH GORGEOUS RED ROSES, CHOCOLATES, A CUTE LIL TEDDY AND HE’S JUST LIKE

‘happy valentine’s day, (y/n)’

he’s adorable

anyway

he just loves seeing your reactions bc they’re always so cute omg

but like i feel like his gifts are like your typical boyfriend gifts lol

like for your birthday he gets you a bath bomb set

and for Halloween he buys you both matching costumes ✋

Akira Kunimi

probably quality time

i imagine that everything else (other than physical touch) requires too much energy for his liking

like who can be bothered to go out to get their s/o a present when you can just watch a movie with them and call it a day?

who wants to do the dishes for their s/o when they can just be lazy and procrastinate together?

who has the energy to compliment their s/o when you can stargaze instead?

but i do think he is kind of a mix between quality time and physical touch bc he really enjoys cuddling with you and resting by your side 💤

like if he has the option to hug you while watching a movie then he will most definitely take it

also he does a lot of complaining and he finds that you’re the easiest person to complain to bc you ✨understand him✨

Yūtarō Kindaichi

words of affirmation

i mean, he’s clearly not afraid or ashamed to be kind verbally so he’s probably the most supportive bf 🥺

like he literally melts whenever you compliment one of blocks

and he makes sure that you feel the same whenever you tell him about one of your achievements

like he is literally your personal hypeman before any big event

‘you can do this, (y/n). just channel your inner einstein! i’m sure you’ll do great. you’re so smart so-’

‘kindaichi, it’s just a physics test- this one doesn’t even make up for part of my grade.’

‘-you’ll do amazing, (y/n). believe in yourself.’

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bunnozi · 4 years

Text

7/11 - (soft dabi x reader) <3

summary:

dabi gets soft on your regular 4am trip to 7/11.

as a villain, there's always pros and cons.

for example, some cons may be: never being able to see your family. friends. anybody considered 'innocent. unless, of course, it's to kill them.

or, that could be a good thing. whatever floats your boat, I guess.

for you, the pros seemed worth it enough to abandon everything, everyone else. you ran away from home, ditched the shitty public school you attended that never seemed to appreciate your quirk enough--and started to play by your own rules.

no more curfew, nobody to say when you can and can't use your quirk, or HOW you use it. pure freedom.

like I said, the pros outweighed the cons.

××××

"hey! runt, come with me for a cigarette run, eh?"

ahh yes, how you ended up here. the fucking league of villains. past you from a short year ago would be ecstatic!

up with the big guys now, actually a part of something worth your while.

but back to the current situation...

it was normal for dabi to drag you along consistently for 4am 7/11 runs. you'd get some monster and him a pack of cigarettes, gum for toga (bubblegum, of course), whatever twice was in the mood for that night, (spinner secretly liked when you got him a pack of those barbecued meal works, but that was your little secret)--and shigaraki just sneered when you offered to bring him back something.

what a prick.

"brat! you got cotton in your ears or somethin'?" dabi shouts from across the room impatiently. "grab your shit, we're leaving in 5."

you give a small nod of your head and quickly jogged to throw on a hoodie lying around--most likely one of shiggy's--and pulled on your shoes.

dabi's waiting at the back door of the make-shift hideout when you look up, and then you're both off into the pitch black night.

×××

darkness used to scare you. especially because of your gender, the harsh, and often unforgiving world past dark used to be a nonexistent part of your life. you stayed away, like a good little girl.

you knew you had a strong quirk, with so much potential! but with no training or recognition from school, and your parents, it was almost useless.

but now with the league, who were better mentors than your stupid school could ever dream of being, you're better. stronger. not some weak little kid anymore.

it's amazing, really. the feeling of walking around at night in the dark, and not being fearful. because now you're the one to be feared.

walking around with dabi is especially empowering. not that you doubt yourself or your own strength, but it's an even bigger ego booster to be side by side with the blue flame user.

dare say, you may even have developed an attraction to him!

not just his quirk, or even his looks, but his personality drew you in. he's always been supportive of your decision to become independent, never says anything passive aggressive or judgmental like your parents! and overall, he's your number one 'hyper upper'. (side note: just say hype man, author).

soon, you can see the florescent lights of the 7/11 in the distance and will yourself to stop daydreaming.

"so, what's on the list for today?" you question the man next to you, rocking on your heels. he stops walking and shoves a hand in his pocket, rifling around. there's a crinkle of paper and a wadded up sticky note is fished out.

he unballs the list and squints down at it, clicking his teeth.

"wow, looks like handjob finally decided to stoop down to our 'rodent' level and ask for something," he gives a dick-ish smile, and it seems like the cutest thing in the world to you. anyone else might find his face scary, definitely gross, maybe even nauseating. but for your psychotic ass…seeing the way his cheeks crinkle and his eyes glint gives you butterflies in the stomach.

you laugh at his crude comment, shaking your head.

"damn, i was sure the next time i pestered him about it he'd turn me into dust." dabi turns unexpectedly serious for a moment, and you furrow your eyebrows in concern. had you said something wrong..?

"dabi...?"

dabi looks you dead in the eyes and turns to face you, taking a deep breath.

"just...don't worry, okay? i'd never let that jerk-off lay one of his greasy mitts on you. that's a promise! i know we mess around a lot, but-" he looks uncomfortable with the display of such emotion, but covers it up with false confidence. "-you matter to me, even with how irritating you can be.."

he raises a pinky expectantly, and you stand there mouth gaping. "well? gonna pinky promise me or not pipsqueak?" he smirks.

you blink a few times, as if to make sure you're not dreaming or tripping balls (food at the hideout is always questionable) and give a dumb nod, linking pinkies with him, his hands rough against yours.

you boldly grip a calloused hand in yours and tug him in after you, grinning all the way and arm swinging behind you. he chuckles while tightening the hold, and you both stroll through the glass doors at last.

dabi looks satisfied, and turns to the lit up building once again.

"now come on, we got shit to steal. coming? or you just gonna stand there and wait for them to call the cops?"

you snort and stare at him indignantly, "of-of course not! who do you take me for, some dumb hero?"

yeah, being a villain always has some cons. but the pros are always ever-sweeter.

#bnha dabi #bnha dabi x reader #dabi #dabi bnha #dabi is touya #dabi x reader #dabi x reader fluff #mha dabi #implied shigaraki x reader #toga himiko #jin bubaigawara #league of villains #twice mha #spinner #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha x reader #bnha x reader fluff #dabi fluff

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pluviophile-imagines · 4 years

Text

In Your Arms: Shigaraki

In Your Arms: a collection of short fics about cuddling with various characters. Find the masterlist here. This one does double duty as my contribution to another BNHA Sanctuary collab, with fics based around the prompt “[....] is concerned because Y/N isn't sleeping.“ The masterlist for that is here!

You’re being annoying.

Well, that’s not quite accurate. You’re not being annoying, which is annoying. Tomura hadn’t come all the way to your apartment for you to ignore him and focus on studying. He’d come all the way here to ignore you and focus on playing video games, and act irritated by the way you’d slowly drape yourself over him more and more until you’d sit completely in his lap, obscuring his view and forcing him to put down the game in favor of paying attention to you. That’s how it’s supposed to work.

You’re not supposed to be laying sprawled out on your stomach with your textbooks and laptop out in front of you, only just touching him with a single bare foot draped over the back of the bed.

He can’t focus on his game when you’re being so difficult. His character dies again—jumps straight into a pit of lava—and he huffs at the grating death riff that plays over the all too familiar game-over screen. He starts the level again. It’s the sixth time.

When he’d sent you his usual im coming over text, he’d been surprised and slightly offended when you’d responded by telling him you were busy. He hadn’t seen it until he was at your townhouse, though, and your window was open like it always is when you invite him in, so he’d climbed up the trellis and slipped through. You’d greeted him with a tired, distracted murmur and hadn’t addressed him since, aside from pushing yourself down as he took his usual seat at the foot of your bed to nudge his shoulder just barely.

What are you studying for, again? Some big important exam for your hardest class, or so you’d told him. He doesn’t understand why you bother going to university; it’s not as if you’ll be needing a degree when you’re spending the rest of your life at his side. He also knows how much it means to you, though, and despite how he personally feels about higher education he doesn’t want you to fail. You’d be devastated. Beyond that, he does want you to succeed in the things you care about.

Tomura’s character dies again. This time he quits, growling and tossing the controller to the side. He doesn’t even bother turning off the console as he whips about where he’s seated to glare at you over the edge of the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s moved. That in itself makes his annoyance surge; he’s glaring harder as you flip over. When you begin to pull your legs back to sit up he surges forward to grab them and prevent you from moving away from him—carefully, always carefully, pinky fingers raised despite the double-digit gloves he wears to prevent any accidents.

“I told you I was busy,” you huff. “Not my fault you came over anyway.”

“You said you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I don’t mind it, I like spending time with you even when I have to be working on other things.”

“You’ve been working on other things for six days,” he grumbles. Nearly a week. This is his first time seeing you in nearly a week. It’s a miracle he hasn’t died from lack of attention, and you’re lecturing him on giving you space? His reasons for coming over aren’t even that selfish, damn you and your supernatural ability to make him drop everything to make sure you’re okay.

But he’d been able to tell that you weren’t okay even through the phone. You’re exhausted, and it’s even more obvious now that he’s in your room with a good look at your face.

So Tomura doesn’t let you go back to your work. He tightens his grip on your legs instead (still cautious, constantly cautious, with six digits rather than ten, pinkies and ring fingers raised) and doesn’t wait for you to protest before he yanks you off the bed.

Your yelp is cute. Everything about you is cute, of course, but there’s something he particularly likes about the way your voice is laced with surprised laughter as he snatches you bodily from your place on your bed and drags you down into his lap. It’s clumsy despite (or rather because of) how careful he is with his deadly grip, and you end up turned around with your back along his legs and your feet propped up on the end of the bed.

“How much have you slept since we last hung out?”

You pout, clearly aware that he won’t like the answer.

“Brat,” he rasps, “studying is useless if you pass out during the exam.”

“What’re you gonna do about it, then?”

Well, he can’t let you get away with that. You forget he’s an S-rank villain.

He stands suddenly, arms strong around your torso as he lifts you and throws you back onto your bed. Again, you yelp; but you’re long used to his manhandling by now, and you’ve told him how much you like it, so he knows the shriek is mostly for show. You turn around, making to go back to your notes, and though he’s well aware you’re not actually intending to return to your studying he still lunges faster than you to shove all your supplies off the bed.

“Tomura!” you whine—he can hear that you’re half serious now, and six months ago when all this was still new he might have paused to apologize, but instead he just grabs you again to pull you under the covers with him.

It’s sufficiently distracting. All thoughts of your studies have clearly been dashed from your mind as he rolls over to hold you on top of him, chest-to-chest, thick quilt and soft sheets covering the pair of you.

Tomura can’t help himself as he tucks his head in the crook of your neck, burying his face against your soft skin. It’s always a little overwhelming simply being in your room, but your scent surrounds him now, both from the bed he’s holding you hostage in and you yourself.

It’s warm too, pleasantly so; so often Tomura feels chilled to the bone, but that’s rarely the case when you’re around, always sharing your body heat with him in one way or another.

Your arms move to drape over his shoulders. You prop yourself up slightly, staring down at him as he pulls his head back to look up at you. He’s come to know you well enough to recognize that you’re planning something; he tightens his hold on you, preparing for you to make a getaway attempt, not that you stand a chance to get very far against his strength and reflexes.

“You’re not leaving. We’re sleeping.”

You hum in response, an acquiescence (though he doesn’t loosen his grip, less because he’s afraid you’ll leave now and more simply because he likes the feeling of you in his arms). He holds you like that for a time, listening to or perhaps more feeling the soft rhythmic beat of your heart against his chest and your quiet, steady breath.

One of your hands moves, tracing down the side of his face, thumb reaching across to brush over the scar on his eye and then doing the same further downward to its companion on his lip. Then it drops, finding a permanent resting spot on his chest, heavy palm warming him over his heart.

You lean in. His eyes flutter closed, sight going dark so that he can focus on his other senses—the weight of you on him, the smell of your shampoo, the brief little sound you make in the back of your throat that he’s come to learn means you think he’s being cute.

Your lips land on his scarred eye, featherlight and fleeting, a brush of a kiss. Then they’re just below his mouth, an identical kiss on what you affectionately call his beauty mark. Finally, they press to the corner of his mouth, that other scar (he used to be self conscious of it, frankly, but you don’t even have to tell him just how much you like it, he’s figured that out on his own thanks to how much attention you give the little blemish and your minute reactions every time you get the chance to feel it).

You’re sluggish as you pull back. You’re finally feeling the exhaustion, he can tell. He should really let you sleep, that’s why he’s here and forced you into bed with him in the first place, but he follows your lips anyway.

It’s a sweet kiss, slow and languid but not entirely passionless as his hand slides up your spine to find home on the back of your neck. He can feel you melt into him, letting him take the lead and relinquishing any active part in the process to him. Your heat seeps into him. He doesn’t get tired much, but at times like these your own exhaustion affects him, bidding him to follow you into dreamland—not that he’d ever complain about sleeping with you.

When the pair of you separate, you all but fall onto him, finally letting your heavy eyelids close as you bury your face into his marked neck. You mumble something into the skin there, almost too quiet to hear; a slurred out, “G’night.”

Tomura turns his head into you to press a kiss to your temple as he succumbs to your siren call and joins you in slumber, voice impossibly low so you won’t hear (though he knows you will anyway, perceptive as you are). “Sleep well, player two.”

#bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki imagines #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #shimura tenko imagines #mine.🌧#char.🌧 shigaraki #fic.🌧 in your arms

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21u004 · 3 years

Note

hello!! if you're still taking these, but my comfort character is atsumu and one of my fears is riding a ferris wheel ;__; it feels pretty dumb bc i actually love heights! but ferris wheels are just a big no for me, esp when it stops and the carriage wobbles when it's high up; i get very anxious and scared T___T sounds rly silly but yeah 👉👈 please ignore this if it's closed!! hope you're having a wonderful day and staying safe 💕

“it ain’t so bad!”

“atsumu i’m not kidding!”

the carriage is too far up, and you’re clinging onto atsumu a little too closely, clutching his clothes a little too hard.

“come on, yer gonna be fine!” he claims, that same dorky smile on his face that he always uses on you everytime he’s about to do something stupid.

“don’t you dare, atsumu.”

as his name falls off your lips, he grips the handle by the door, and begins to move it lightly.

had there been anyone else with you two, you’d be holding them instead of atsumu who’s being a huge jerk.

atsumu laughs, shaking the carriage a little harder. unbeknownst to him, you’re trembling too. not from the carriage, but it’s scary.

you loosen your fists on his clothes for one second, only to wrap them back around his torso. this time, you’re embracing him tighter.

“atsumu, please. stop it,” you manage breathe out, eyes tightly sealed shut.

the small gaps in the carriage let the wind enter, and it doesn’t help with your shivering. your heart only races faster, and you’re hugging atsumu the tightest you can when you both reach the peak.

atsumu finally realizes that you’re not joking, even after so many times you’ve told him you weren’t.

he feels his heart tighten and his lungs barely able to breathe from how hard you’re hugging him. he didn’t know you had this much strength.

“okay- okay- i’m sorry,” he says, letting go of the handle and putting his hand on your back instead.

the cabin doesn’t stop shaking, but it begins to gradually come to an end along with your ride.

one hand rubbing your back, and the other on your head, his voice low and soft, “’m sorry, ’m here.”

he repeats the words over and over, reminding you he’s there.

the cabin lowers, your hug on him much looser than when you were both at the peak, when your heart was running marathons and your arms not letting go of him like it’s your last day on earth.

the cabin’s down, the door’s open, and you’re first to step off.

“sorry. i won’t do that again,” his words were laced with sincerity, and the tight hold on your hand with his thumb drawing circles around it tells you that he really is.

rather than words, your free hand comes up into a fist with the pinky left out.

he wraps his little finger with yours, and presses it against his lips.

anon this one's for you but i told rue i'd tag xem in atsukuroo stuffs @neoheros

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #unedited #inarizaki #haikyuu hurt/comfort #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu asks #haikyuu comfort character + fear

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caizen · 3 years

Note

"it ain't so bad!"

"atsumu i'm not kidding!"

the carriage is too far up, and you're clinging onto atsumu a little too closely, clutching his clothes a little too hard.

"come on, yer gonna be fine!" he claims, that same dorky smile on his face that he always uses on you everytime he's about to do something stupid.

"don't you dare, atsumu."

as his name falls off your lips, he grips the handle by the door, and begins to move it lightly.

had there been anyone else with you two, you'd be holding them instead of atsumu who's being a huge jerk.

atsumu laughs, shaking the carriage a little harder. unbeknownst to him, you're trembling too. not from the carriage, but it's scary.

you loosen your fists on his clothes for one second, only to wrap them back around his torso. this time, you're embracing him tighter.

"atsumu, please. stop it," you manage breathe out, eyes tightly sealed shut.

the small gaps in the carriage let the wind enter, and it doesn't help with your shivering. your heart only races faster, and you're hugging atsumu the tightest you can when you both reach the peak.

atsumu finally realizes that you're not joking, even after so many times you've told him you weren't.

he feels his heart tighten and his lungs barely able to breathe from how hard you're hugging him. he didn't know you had this much strength.

"okay- okay- i'm sorry," he says, letting go of the handle and putting his hand on your back instead.

the cabin doesn't stop shaking, but it begins to gradually come to an end along with your ride.

one hand rubbing your back, and the other on your head, his voice low and soft, "'m sorry, 'm here."

he repeats the words over and over, reminding you he's there.

the cabin lowers, your hug on him much looser than when you were both at the peak, when your heart was running marathons and your arms not letting go of him like it's your last day on earth.

the cabin's down, the door's open, and you're first to step off.

"sorry. i won't do that again," his words were laced with sincerity, and the tight hold on your hand with his thumb drawing circles around it tells you that he really is.

rather than words, your free hand comes up into a fist with the pinky left out.

he wraps his little finger with yours, and presses it against his lips.

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

Bratty b****

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Dom!Peter, Smut.

The request:

Hi love your writing and have never made a request but here goes. Tony’s daughter is going through a rebellious phase, going out to parties and getting to the Tower at all hours of the night. Punishments don’t seem to be getting through to her at all and everyone’s at their wits end. Insert dom!Peter finding her at a party and bringing her back home to lay down the law if you know what i mean…

Also, for all of you the anons that wanted new Dom!Peter and SSC talks.

MY MASTERLIST

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Parker? Put me the fuck down right NOW!”

Peter complied, letting go of you so suddenly you ended in a heap on the floor. The indignant look you threw his way reminded him of an angry kitten, and he had to suppress a smile. Even drunk and disheveled you were god damn adorable. And that was part of the problem: you had everyone wrapped around your finger, and were perfectly aware of it.

No wonder you weren’t afraid of any punishment, none of them ever stuck long enough for you to regret your actions, consequences always swept under the rug before they could sully you or your reputation. Even the press, so merciless with lower socialites, was so happy to have the Stark heiress back, that every new misadventure was portrayed in an indulgent light, words like “enfant terrible”, “little hellion” or “New York’s favorite troublemaker” decorating headlines everywhere he turned.

But that ended tonight.

He watched you stand up, fixing your way-too-short-dress so it would cover the top of your thighs, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“My apartment” Peter replied, simply. You knew the penthouse was just on the next floor, but there, in that darkened kitchen alone with him, it seemed incredibly far. You hadn’t been alone with him since Titan, and you didn’t quite know how to deal with this Peter, so different from the awkward, wide eyed boy who used to trail behind you like a puppy. This grown up, confident Peter that was older than you, that had been an Avenger for six years, intimidating enough to clear a party all by himself, without needing his Spider-man persona.

But then again, you didn’t know how to deal with much of anything these days. Going to sleep in 2018 and waking up in 2023 would do that to you.

“Why did you bring me to your apartment?” Your voice came out a little unsteady, as you tried to get a grip on your heart, beating wildly inside your chest, tried to squash that little sliver of hope down before it managed to cut you and bleed you dry. Because you knew what you wanted from Peter was something you could never have. And it wasn’t just cause of that awesome girlfriend of his.

He leaned casually on the kitchen island, arms crossed in front of his chest and you couldn’t help but notice how solid and powerful they looked clad in black leather.

“To have a little talk” he met your eyes, concern clear in his, “about your behavior…”

Your stomach drop with the weight of a thousand dead butterflies. Of course. This was an intervention. He was being big brother Peter, that was how he saw you, a little sister, just like Morgan, another Starkling for him to guide, to nurture and protect.

And maybe your own little sister preferred his bedtime stories over yours. Maybe your own father called him son, and your -technically step- mother sent him to chaperone you whenever you went out to party, but he was never ever going to be your brother.

“And exactly who do you think you are to have a talk with me?” You sneered, voice like sugar venom, sweet and cruel. Lethal. “You are no one, you’re not my boyfriend, you’re not my friend, and I know you like to pretend you’re a Stark, but you are not my brother. You are nothing.”

You watched the air get knocked out of his lungs, as if your words had physically hit him as they hit their mark. Satisfied with the stunned, devastated look on his face, you turned to leave. But only made it a couple of steps before feeling his fingers wrap around your wrist in a vice like grip, spinning you around and pulling you to him.

You stumbled, falling against his chest, and he kept you there, arm snaking around your back, pressing you close. Dangerously close.

“And you” he whispered, nose pressed against your cheek, breath hot against your face. You realized you weren’t the only one that had been drinking. “are a bratty little bitch. You think I wanna be any of those things? That I’d be satisfied with any of those things?“

His fingers dug deeper into your skin, and you cried out, finally reacting.

"Parker, let me go, your hurting me!” You struggled in his grasp, but he was way too strong.

“You mean more than you’ve been hurting yourself? Hanging out with those losers” He spat, shaking you a little, “Day drinking? Sneaking out every night? Have you any idea how worried Pepper was when she called?"

"Peter, you’re scaring me!”

“Good!” He replied, shaking you harder, “It’s about fucking time you learn that your actions have consequences"

He manhandled you until you were trapped between him and the kitchen island. A firm push against the square of your shoulders had you bent over it, face against the cold marble, as he took both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them against your back, his other hand traveling under your dress. He kicked your legs open, placing a knee between yours so you couldn’t close them back up.

"What the fuck are you doing you sick fuck?!”

“I’m thinking eighteen slaps” He commented casually, ignoring your insult, “one for every night you sneaked out this month, and you are going to count them”

You renovated your struggle as he pushed your dress up, exposing your ass, but he leaned over your back, trapping you under his weight.

“Wanna know who I am, little girl?” He breathed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine “I’m your master.”

SLAP.

You cried out. There was strength behind the hit, the sting lasting long after his hand was gone.

“One” he said and you remembered his words, he wanted you to count the slaps, but your brain was in shambles

SLAP.

“One” He repeated, “You better start counting or they’ll be a lot more than eighteen…”

SMACK.

“One…”

“FINE!” You yelled, finally finding your voice, “Fine, I’ll count them you sick bastard! That’s three!”

“I should make them twenty just for that"

"Fuck you!”

SLAP.

The sound that left your throat when his open palm struck just between your legs was not one of pain. You cursed under your breath, there was no way he could have missed that moan.

“What was that, princess?”

“F-four”

He chuckled, and you felt him get off of you. But with your wrists still in his grasp, there wasn’t much you could do, he had super strength after all. You were quite literally at his mercy.

The thought should not have been so hot.

“I was actually talking about this” He traced his fingertips over your lace covered slit, tearing another moan from your lips. “Such a pretty sound” He hummed, approvingly, “I want more…”

He used his thumb to tug your underwear to the side, dipping one long, talented finger into you. It slid inside easily, so easily… it was embarrassing how wet, how ready for it you were. Peter wanted nothing more than to sink himself in your cunt, to get lost into your tight, pink, velvety soft insides. But where was the lesson in that? What kind of message would he be sending you if he too failed to deliver the promised punishment? Fourteen slaps, that was all. Fourteen more hits and then he could have you. This was for your own good.

He took his finger out.

SMACK.

“Fi-ve” You whimpered. That one had really hurt. His hand came down against your other cheek just as hard.

“Six”

Another one, and his finger was back inside your pussy, this time with a companion, pumping in and out, making it difficult to speak, but you managed to stutter a breathy “Seven”

It wasn’t until the next slap hit the soft flesh where your your thigh met the curve of your ass with his fingers still thrusting into you that you realized he had released your hands. But by then you were a moaning, wanting mess on the counter, a willing accomplice more than a prisoner, dutifully keeping count,

“Eight”

Slaps nine and ten came with him three fingers deep in your heat, pinky sloppily rubbing circles on your clit. You were close, just one more thrust, one more slap, one more dirty word in your ear and you would be coming. How stupid of you to believe he was actually going to let you.

“Noooo” You couldn’t help the pathetic whine that left your mouth when his fingers left you, your walls clenching pitifully around nothing. Your own hand went for your mound, desperate for release, but he caught it, pinning it to your back again.

“I don’t think so, little girl,” He chastised you, “your punishment isn’t over yet…”

You had eight more slaps left. You could do it, you could take it.

…Couldn’t you?

He let go of your wrist and you felt him shift behind you. A moment passed, then another one. You had started to turn to see where he had gone when you felt it: the soft caress of cold lips against your burning backside.

“Is this better, baby girl?” He inquired, placing glacial kisses and licks on the reddened, sore skin. “You like this?”

“Yes…"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes… sir?”

SLAP.

“Eleven. Yes, dom?”

SLAP.

“YES, DADDY!”

Peter froze. He was actually going for ‘master’. Mister Stark, Tony, he was your father. But more than that, you were his daughter, his precious baby. Asking to be called that while he fucked you would the lowest betrayal, Peter knew that. It would be defiling that title forever, making you think of Peter and the filthy things he did to you whenever you called your dad by it. It was wrong. It was perverted.

And Peter wanted it.

More than food, more than water, more than oxygen, he wanted it, he wanted you for himself, with a hunger, with a greed that scared even him. He. Wanted. You.

And he was going to have you. He licked a long stripe up your pussy. Cold, so cold it made you shiver.

“Say it again, baby girl"

"Daddy”

“Again” his order was muffled, face buried against your cunt, devouring you.

“Daddy!"

SLAP.

He placed another ice cube on his mouth, only to push it into your cunt making you scream, tongue fucking you with superhuman skill. The contrasting temperatures of the ice and his mouth against your molten insides were too much. You were sobbing, shameless and desperate, bucking your hips back against his face, the familiar tension building up, and up. Your toes already starting to curl… and then he was gone.

"Yellow!” You cried. Peter was on you in an instant, turning you around and helping you stand, pushing your hair away from your face.

“Baby, are you ok? What is it?” His voice was worried, breaking character.

“O-orgasm denial” You gasped, “wasn’t part of the deal…"

"Shit! You’re right, I’m sorry baby, I’m so so sorry!”

Peter looked about ready to cry, so you hurried to reassure him,

“Pete, it’s ok, I’m not safewording…yet"

He nodded his understanding, but still looked uncertain. You kissed him, sweet and soothing, but soon that absurdly talented tongue of his slipped inside your mouth, deepening the kiss, turning it into something heady, slow and dirty. You melted into it.

A ripping sound resonated in the quiet kitchen, and you felt your dress fell off your body. Stunned, you broke the kiss, to look at the remains of your favorite garment now lying lifeless on the dark mahogany floor, and then at the smug, smirking face of your boyfriend.

"It was in my way”

And just like that, he was all dom again, towering over you, still fully dressed while you stood, vulnerable, in just your hills and a, ruined, lacy tong, made almost completely sheer by your juices, glistening between your legs.

He let one of his fingers dip under the lace.

“Wanna come, little girl?”

“Yes” You breathed out.

He hummed, fingertip finding your clit,

“And if I let you come,” He started the delicious, quick circular motions that he knew drove you insane, “will you be a good girl? Do as you’re told?”

You considered lying to please him, pretending to be the perfect little sub for him, but that wasn’t really you, was it? You looked him dead in the eyes, and opened your mouth.

“No”

Something snapped behind his eyes, and he growled, deep in his chest, fisting your hair, forcing your head back, bending you over backwards on the kitchen island, as his other hand made quick work of his zipper and belt.

“This what you wanted, little girl?” He entered you, hard and fast and deep, tearing a scream out of your throat, railing you into the marble, “Daddy fucking your pussy like this?”

“Yes!”

“You like taking it like this? Pretty little pussy stretched around daddy’s cock?”

“Yes!! Yes daddy, just like this!"

He was fucking into you with such force that you slid over the cold marble with each thrust of his hips, but there was nothing for you to brace yourself on. He grabbed your thighs, hooking your knees over his elbows to keep you in place and open you wider for him, going deeper, owning places inside your pussy you didn’t know existed. The edge of the counter was biting into his thighs but he couldn’t care, not with your walls spasming around his cock, squeezing him so good that his eyes rolled back inside his skull. You were crying, little whimpers of ‘Daddy, daddy!’ and it was so blasphemous, so unholy, it made Peter’s blood boil with it, lighting running through his veins, pleasure exploding in every single nerve ending of his body, cause you were his, his and no one else’s, his claim overriding every previous one made on you. It was too much, he exploded inside you, filling you up until you were overflowing with it, the pearlescent liquid dripping down his thigh.

And he still couldn’t stop. Like a man possessed, he kept going. And you kept on taking it.

…

"Are you ok?”

“I should be the one asking that…”

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, staring back at you with genuine concern. Sometime during your fucking, you had managed to disvest him of his clothes and now he was as naked as you, lying on the massive couch, sated and spent, with you tucked on his chest.

“Pete, this whole thing was my idea” You reminded him, gesturing vaguely around you. The whole apartment was a mess: paintings fallen from the walls, torn clothes littering the hardwood floor, a broken coffee table… but the kitchen had taken the most damage, where Peter had managed to crack the marble on the kitchen island, and thrown away glasses and even a couple appliances in his haste for getting you on it. There even was a puddle of cold water, from where he had knocked over the glass of ice cubes he had used to tease you.

He frowned,

“I seem to recall it was mine…”

“You said you wanted to take control” You placed a soothing kiss right above his heart, to let him know everything was alright, “I was the one who wanted the spanking. And the roleplaying. And the hair pulling…”

Peter’s smile grew bigger and bigger with every item you named. He loved it, loved that you trusted him enough to ask exactly what you wanted, loved feeling so comfortable with you as to explore everything he had been too scared to do before. He loved that with you, he was free, there was no fear of judgment, he could let go, cause he knew you wouldn’t let him fall. He loved you.

And it was so natural, so easy as your conversations were, even before the blip, when you were four years older than him, so beautiful and unreacheable. As stealing a kiss that first night had been. He would have never thought something good could come out of Thanos, of the blip, of losing his arm and almost losing his life. But you had come visit him on his hospital bed right after the surgery, eyes full of tears and he had made a joke about every great Jedi losing his arm, and you had laughed.

And then you had sobered up, an impossible emotion behind your eyes. Impossible, because he had only ever seen it directed at him in his wildest dreams.

“Ani, you’ve changed so much!” You had quoted.

“You haven’t changed a bit” he had replied without skipping a beat, “You’re exactly the way I remember you in my dreams”

And then he was kissing you, just like he was kissing you now, good hand on your cheek, biorobotic one slowly raising to tangle in your hair.

“The ice play was my idea” He commented, breaking the kiss. You threw your head back, laughing.

“And a very good one at that” You approved.

“The daddy kink was a surprise…”

Your laugh died. Suddenly embarrassed, you hid your face on his chest.

“You know I’m not-… that I don’t really want to… sleep with my dad, right?”

Even with his super hearing, it was difficult to decipher your mumbling.

“What? No- I mean yes!” He stammered, “Of course I know that, babe! And you know I don’t want to… like… be him or anything…"

You nodded, finally meeting his eyes.

"But it was kinda hot”

“Babe, it was all manners of hot” Peter confirmed, making you smile.

“You still owe me five slaps, tho”

He groaned,

“I do, I totally forgot! God, I’m such a bad dom!”

“Of course not! You’re the hottest dom I’ve ever seen!"

Peter snorted,

"I’m the only dom you’ve ever seen…”

“I saw Fifty Shades of Grey once…” You argued, making him laugh harder.

“Ok, ok, you win, even I am a better dom than that"

"The edging…”

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that…”

“No no, I was actually thinking…” You felt your cheeks grow hot under his gaze. Peter was trying to appear nonchalant, but you could see the glimmer of lust in his eyes, evidently it was a serious turn on for him. “We could explore it more next time…”

His face lit up,

“Really? Thank you babe!” He caught your mouth in a heated, earnest kiss, “You won’t regret it, I’ll make so good for you…” he promised against your lips, making you moan in anticipation.

“Maybe I’ll even spare you those slaps I owe you…”

Peter didn’t miss the way your kiss falter at that, or the spark of defiance in your mischievous eyes.

“Maybe” You replied, noncommittal, releasing his lips to nibble at his jaw. He could practically see the wheels already turning in your head, planning ways to test his patience, pushing the limits just enough to guarantee a reaction, to earn yourself a new punishment. You were such a brat.

His spoiled, gorgeous brat.

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