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Bakugou’s head pounded as he struggled to fit his front door key into the lock, roughly smashing it against the cold metal until it clicked. Practically falling into his house as he strumbled to regain his balance, fuckin’ dunce face and his happy hour strawberry daiquiris. He’d always told him that those drinks were the most lethal, the ones that would really get you in trouble.

He hadn’t planned on going out to celebrate his birthday, perfectly content with spending the evening at home cooking his favourite mapu tofu and watching reruns of the American All Might documentary; but instead he’d found himself at a dingy dive bar surrounded with all his friends who insisted on plying him with drinks. Practically groaning at the puppy dog eyes Kirishima had given him when he’d returned with a tray of shots, “You need to let yourself relax and unwind a little, Bakubro! It’s not good keeping yourself so pent up.”

And perhaps his best friend was right.

Collapsing onto his bed as he attempted to struggle out of his jeans, barely able to unbutton them before giving up with his chest heaving. For fucks sake, the room was spinning. It didn’t help that his cock was stood proudly at half mast, bulging beneath the denim and desperate for some sweet relief. He’d spent the entire day bricked up, and the alcohol had only worsened the sensation.

Bakugou unlocked his cellphone to check for the time, wincing when a bright 1:49AM flashed across the screen. But even more glaringly obviously was the influx of notifications that had caught his eye, a multitude of them replying to a post that in his drunken stupor he hadn’t even realised he had sent.

Replies:

Reply from @kweenkatsuki-fics just head, king?

Reply from @kingkatsuki who knew Dynamight was such a slut?

Reply from @saturnsorbits thought you said you weren’t that desperate, huh?

Reply from @bakugotrashpanda video attached, hit me up

Reply from @strafepanzer anyone will do huh?

Reply from @katsukikitten picture attached, location shared, cum here

A Bakugou Birthday Bash Collab!!!!! A mix of smut and crack fics we've whipped up and hope you enjoy! Please be sure to check back for the fics on the mentioned blogs! Fics will be posted around Bakugou's birthday! 420 blaze it 🍃

Intro written by @kingkatsuki

— MASTERLIST

( is a blood diamond flawless but for that one thing ? )

KEY : ✨️ - kei's favourites | ☀️ – fluff | 🌻 – angst

— TEARS OF THEMIS

.: VYN RICHTER ┆ ADJUDICATOR

+ general relationship headcanons ☀️ + morning routines ☀️ + going on dates ☀️ + things that remind me of vyn ☀️ + & we've done this all before ✨️☀️ + all answers are within the dog (pet owner hcs) ☀️

.: ARTEM WING ┆ LIBRA

+ things that remind me of artem ☀️ + all answers are within the dog (pet owner hcs) ☀️

.: LUKE PEARCE ┆RAVEN

+ things that remind me of luke 🌻

.: MARIUS VON HAGEN ┆ KING

+ things that remind me of marius ☀️

— GENSHIN IMPACT

.: KAEYA ALBERICH ┆ PAVO OCELLUS

+ oh how the mighty fall (in love) | demon!kaeya ✨️☀️🌻

.: WRIOTHESLEY ┆ CERBERUS

+ i'll take care of you / it's rotten work ✨️☀️🌻

— LOVE & DEEPSPACE

.: RAFAYEL / QI YU (祁煜) ┆ ABYSSWALKER

+ general relationship headcanons ☀️✨️

+ wait for me / i'm still somewhere 🌻✨️

+ swim with me ... (post-myth abysswalker hcs) ☀️🌻✨️

+ the pain of tenderness is the wound of love (birthday) ☀️✨️

Serendipity Series

Summary: (AU) In every lifetime, Sung Jinwoo will make sure to leave a mark on your soul. To always accompany you as your devoted husband to his lovely and cute wife, no matter what...

Watching from a distance, Sung Jinwoo slowly savoured the taste of the wine in his glass, his fingers clenching the fragile stem. He restrained his anger as he witnessed your betrothed humiliate you and revoke your engagement for his mistress. Painting you as a villain to everyone as that foolish of a man flaunts his infidelity called 'love'.

Sung Jinwoo couldn't help but sneer at them and find fate laughable.

He has always been determined to have you as his wife, no matter what. However, fate has a twisted sense of humour. It seems, that in order, for him to have you, you must first endure humiliation and a broken engagement.

If fate is going to play its hand, then don't blame him if he turns the situation to his advantage and claims you as his own. And as for those who have wronged you, they will face the consequences of his wrath.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for my characters and plot.

Warning/Genre: Romance, AU, drama, broken engagement, Yandere (Sorry for the miss grammar)

Chapter 1 - Stupidity

In a banquet hosted by the royal family in the palace, your betrothed, the crown prince hugs his first love protectively in his arms and condemns you without hesitation in front of all the nobles in the kingdom.

A smug smirk on his lips as he looked down on you while you, on the other hand, glared up at him.

The anger that has built over the years was on the verge of breaking as your supposed fiance embarrassed not only you but your family with the breakdown of your engagement.

Your name is Eliana Anderson. You are the eldest child of the Anderson household and the prestigious and precious daughter of the Primes Minister Anderson of your kingdom.

Ever since you came of age, you have been betrothed to the crown prince by the king without your father's approval.

You're the only daughter in your family and your father has always doted on you so of course the matters of your betrothal have been a sensitive and meticulous topic to your father. Not wanting to give his precious daughter to some boorish, unruly bastards.

And so receiving a marriage decree from the king, accompanied by a threat to your family, made your father furious beyond belief that you and your mother worried he might faint from anger.

Your father protested with all his might to deny this engagement, knowing how corrupt the current royal family is and how uncontrolled and malicious the current crown prince is but to no avail; the king ignored him.

In the end, you didn't have a choice but to follow, not wanting your family to end up in a difficult situation by opposing the king.

The crown prince does share the same sentiment on not wanting this engagement; however, that didn't stop him from showing his disgust at you. In fact, he seemed to revel in the opportunity to humiliate you whenever the chance arose.

The torment he has shown you since the first day of your engagement has never ceased, and continues even to this day.

And now he's hellbent on not only humiliating you but also destroying and smearing your family's reputation through the mud.

Letting out a breath, you calmed yourself, knowing that acting hysterical wouldn't benefit you nor save your family from the predicament this prince has thrown at you.

However, the urge to slap this idiot prince was so dangerously tempting that you had to close your eyes, and instead, a cold smile appeared on your lips and looked at your 'fiance'.

"If I may ask Your Highness, what crime have I committed that warrants you painting me as a malicious villain in front of everyone?" You coldly asked, your smile darkening as your hand clenched tighter on the fan you were holding.

Suddenly, a coquettish voice interrupted, "Lady Eliana, please stop lying and admit to your sins. Please don't make this harder than it is."

It was the woman whom your fiance had 'fallen' for. A woman who has brown shoulder-length hair, dopey downturned eyes and dressed in a white gown that accentuated her slim figure.

She has that pure, innocent beauty that always seems to attract men who want to unconsciously protect her.

It was the crown prince's 'first love', Amy Wilson, the illegitimate daughter of Baron Wilson, who was currently nestled in your fiance's arms.

Cowering and trembling as tears gathered in her eyes, looking like a small doe in front of everyone as she tried to confront you, earning her sympathy and pitying looks especially the crown prince and his stupid group of cronies.

You, however, were given a dark and condemning look from them.

You couldn't help but spit in disgust in your heart as you coldly looked at her.

She's a woman completely opposite of you, who has sharp and cold eyes, and whenever you look at the crown prince, a lingering disgust shows in your eyes.

Your once slender and petite frame is now tall and lean, the result of the training you have suddenly undergone to learn self-defence as you were pushed as the crown princess.

Truly a complete opposite from your past self. No more the naivety and joy in your once soft features.

Hearing her words, you sneered.

"As far as I know Lady Tr- Lady Wilson, I have only given you fair warnings on your behaviour and to maintain your distance as Your Highness is my betrothed. As for the accusations of harming you, unfortunately, I do not know of them nor have I done them."

You said as you gave them a cold smile behind your fan, patting yourself for catching yourself from calling that woman 'trash'.

That right, you have labelled that woman 'Trash' the moment she seduced the crown prince and tried to harm you.

Why, you ask?

It's not because you love that rotten bastard but because, in your eyes, the crown prince is a rotten garbage. And since there is a rotten garbage, it only makes sense that it has to be thrown in the trash and that trash is none other than Amy Wilson.

Hiding behind the crown prince's arms, that trash gave you a sly look.

You couldn't help but feel a disgusting chill run down your spine as an unsettling feeling settled in your stomach.

As far as you know, your actions thus far have been appropriate as a crown princess. Neither have you crossed the line of letting your feelings interfere nor have you remained ignorant of the situation to let it escalate.

You didn't hurt this woman in any form, only giving her a fair warning and if you did, you have your servants to witness it. As for the 'evidence' they have presented earlier, if experts, the kings and higher people in ranks were to investigate it, they would know it was nothing but fraud.

It's nothing but false evidence made by both the crown prince and his stupid group of cronies who were supposedly the next heirs to some of the most influential families in your kingdom and yet have been seduced so easily under such a contemptuous woman.

Regardless, they were nothing but brats who only rode their family's coattails and were nothing but a nuisance, using their power to abuse those who were weak and under them.

Thinking so, you curse them again in your heart and tried to calm your nerves as cold sweat still continues to run down your back.

"We have given and presented undisputable evidence, Eliana. Stop your nonsense and admit to it." The crown prince spoke with impatience in his voice, shaking his head as if he were speaking to a child.

Your eyebrow twitched hearing him calling you by your name so directly with such audacity.

If it were any other situation, you would have refuted him without reserve however since you were in such a situation, you can't do so recklessly or else your entire family would be dragged further than it already is.

Suddenly, the crown prince caught your eyes and gave a malicious smirk before declaring.

"Since your actions show just how much of an unreasonable and vile you are. How could I accept you as the crown princess and be the future mother of the kingdom! Hence, as of today, Eliana Anderson, you are stripped of your title as the crown princess and from now on Lady Amy Wilson will be the crown princess. Guards! Arrest her and throw her into prison for the crime of harming the crown princess."

You stared, speechless, at the crown prince at such absurdity.

That is when the unsettling feeling you have since you entered this ball completely grasps your whole being as if a slap hit you on the face. A whisper in the back of your mind becomes louder and louder as you feel something within you is on the verge of breaking.

You have always known that the crown prince was a good-for-nothing bastard. A spoiled bastard who only does whatever he pleases but it wasn't to the point of complete idiocy especially when it comes to you as your betrothal was one of the stepping stones on why he became the crown prince however it seems you have overestimated him.

Feeling your arms being restrained by the knights, you struggled. Your control over your emotions slowly slips as your frustrations and anger show.

You tried to regulate your breathing as you looked at the bastard before you, smiling mockingly as you gradually cracked under him.

He turns his head to look at your father who is now being restrained by the knights also when he tried to charge in your defence. A sickening smile on his lips as he taunted your father.

"Ah, Duke Anderson, unfortunately, you'll have to step down from your position as well since the evidence of your embezzlement and illegal actions have been presented to the king. The king has also decided that Marquis Henlyn will be replacing you as the Prime Minister."

Hearing this you curse the crown prince at such an abrupt accusation.

Your father with embezzlement?! Illegal actions?! being replace?!

Such stupidity!

Your father has been nothing but upright and loyal to the kingdom and its people. If it wasn't for him, this kingdom would have long fallen because of its corrupt royal family!

And now he's being falsely accused!? And on top of it, your father is being replaced by Marquis Henlyn who has been rumoured to have smuggled weapons and slavery between your kingdom and the other countries!

Just what kind of parasite is in that bastard's head to have allowed this especially the king!

You gritted your teeth as you yelled, "Your Highness, do you even realize what you're doing?! If you allow this, not only you and the imperial family will be implicated but the kingdom and its people as well! You say my father has done illegal doings and yet haven't you heard that Marquis Henlyn has smuggled not only weapons but has done illegal trading of slavery of our people! My father has been nothing but loyal and honest! Evidence?! It is nothing but a farce! "

Surely even this prince knows how impossible it was to replace your father as his hard work is more evident than this so-called ' evidence'.

Your father's power and authority are the sole reason he's the current crown prince. Removing you and your father would be a foolish move even the king knows this thus the reason he has given that marriage decree without your family's permission and yet why this?!

However, it seems not only have you overestimated the prince but that of the king as well as the prince laughed at you and leaned down as he whispered.

"Do you really think my father cares about your family now that your father has crossed his line? Not only has your father obstructed the royal family again and again, but this time, my father has had enough and since I have gained your father's authority and power, I no longer have any need of your family and my father wholeheartedly agreed to it."

Realization dawned on you as your eyes widened at the truth. A small yet audible sound of snapping resounded in you.

Suddenly a loud heartbroken cry erupted in your throat as you struggled fiercely, no longer caring for anything or your appearance.

Annoyed by your resistance, one of the knights kicks the back of your knees, resulting in you slamming your kneecap onto the floor.

Pain shot through your body. Your eyes reddened and tears welled up, not only from the pain but your control over your bottled emotions have now dissipated.

Gone! Everything you have worked hard for is now gone!

You shook your head and bit your lips until it bleed.

No, this can't be happening!

Even if you hated the crown prince, your position as the crown princess was the only thing that you couldn't let go of.

After all, because of the marriage decree these unscrupulous, unreasonable people have shoved down your throat, you have no choice but to let go of him. Someone so important in your life was exchanged for something you didn't want.

Feeling your cheeks wet, you realize that your tears have finally fallen.

Regret fills you to the point of suffocation as your mind unconsciously remembers the young boy you adored the moment you met him.

How you wish to have held his hand longer...

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay. A relative of mine has passed away and it has been stressful and with work thrown in. It had been chaotic instead which made it harder for me to write and edit.

Though I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the Serendipity Series! If it's not too much, please comment on your thoughts. Thank you!

{All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author}

"𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬"

moving was hectic and busy, so busy that you had forgotten to text roommate! isagi that plans changed and you would be moving in at 8 PM instead of 2 PM. he was wondering why you weren’t responding to your texts and not answering your calls for six hours (to which you felt terribly sorry for doing so and apologized about it later), as he spent the whole day embracing himself for an awkward introduction. 

but instead of one, you open the door to your new shared apartment to the sight of roommate! isagi in nothing but a towel slung low on his hips as he stood there in the kitchen eating fruits, dumbfounded at your unexpected arrival. 

that was six months ago. since then, the two of you had fallen into an easy rhythm of late-night kitchen conversations about your days, movie marathons, playful teasing that sometimes felt like something more. 

and then there were the accidents. the way you would turn too quickly and find yourself chest-to-chest with him in the hallway. the way he would purposely leave the bathroom door open a crack with the light off to have you walk in on him post-shower, thinking he was done, but he was really just “touching up his hair.” or the way his voice dropped when he said your name. 

you told yourself it was nothing. but then came your first storm together. 

the power had gone out, leaving your apartment in darkness, but the worst part? you were in the middle of showering. 

“you okay? need light?” you hear roommate! isagi ask you from outside the bathroom door, knocking. 

“yes please, i can barely see anything,” you respond, but since the door is locked, you have no choice but to step out of the shower, wrap yourself in a towel, and get a light from the boy yourself. 

however, when you open the door, you don’t see your roommate. where’d he go? before you turn the corner of the hallway and call for his name, you collide into muscle and the lantern in his hand turns on. 

his mouth practically gapes at the sight of you with wet hair and just a towel on, droplets of water still scattered across the smooth surface of your skin. your round exposed shoulders and parted lips are enough to send him reeling and he nearly drops the lantern. 

“thanks,” you say, oblivious to his reaction and taking the lantern to the bathroom with you to continue your shower. 

what you didn’t even realize was how this small interaction confirmed his feelings for you were real. 

the planned movie night was no longer a go because of the power outage, leaving the two of you sitting on the couch with nothing else to do. the heater was also turned off, causing you to shiver from the entering winter cold. 

“you’re shivering,” roommate! isagi murmured, his voice husky. he reached for you, his hands sliding around your waist and pulling you closer. 

you should have moved away. you should have made a joke, kept it light like always. but instead, you pressed against him, your fingers trailing over his chest, your breath catching when his lips hovered just inches from yours. 

he murmured your name, his voice thick with something you had only dreamed about. it made your brain hazy. 

"yeah?" you reply, fingers curling into the fabric of his white t-shirt. 

"i can't –" his mouth crashed into yours, hot and insistent, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. 

he wouldn’t stop until you knew what true passion and heat felt like. 

by the time you two broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead resting against yours, you knew there was no going back. 

"well," you sighed, grinning. "guess we’re more than roommates now.” 

the black-haired boy chuckled, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "what do you mean? we’ve always been more than roommates."

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: i love me a good roommates to lovers trope :p AND I'M SORRY IDK WHERE THE HEADER IMAGE IS FROM ☹️

🕸️ 034 . the life we never lived.

synopsis seen through kaiser’s pov: the photos should’ve been his. he remembers being there—holding your hand, whispering promises—but now, it’s all gone. rewritten. like he was never part of your story.

i thought so hard on this, look at the timestamps & compare

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : thank you all for reading 🫶🏼 i hope i did a good job on this, & i hope yall had fun reading this. shjsjeksk ineed2sleep

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @lotusofia @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @saeglazer @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy @pan-kojiwa @pctterheadd @shumeow-h @deadlydollsstuff @renchai @nomyimi @beomn @heartmaddie @orphicarchive @sky-casino @8x9d @hanmastattoos @biscuitsx

© ffleurist 2025 do not plagiarise, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

pro hero!Deku and superfan!reader at a meet and greet. He's amazed to get the kind of treatment All Might once got from him, to see you blushing and tripping over your words while your hands shake. Doesn't hurt that you're wearing a Deku costume shirt that stretches over your tits and that your deku green skirt barely covers your ass. "Who do I make this out to?" He lands in close to ask over the loud noise of the meet and greet, one massive hand on your waist as you try not to melt. You mumble your name and he just smirks, tilts his head and gets even closer to ask again.

Fast forward to his hotel room (he'd left the room number and a key card in your purse while he was signing your poster) he's got you in a mating press, his massive form hovering over you as he fucks you stupid. "C'mon sweet thing, let me hear it again. How you're my biggest fan right?" Can't even help the cocky grin on his lips as you try (and fail) to form words when his cock head is dragging against your spot.

"I'm, I'm-"

"I'm what? Can't even use your words, poor baby." He's mocking you even as his cock aches to fill you up seeing how all your fangirl knowledge goes out the window once he's inside you.

Next time he was gonna quiz you on trivia about him while you're warming his cock.

-`♡ masterlist ♡´-

♥︎ about me ♥︎ ♥︎ guidelines ♥︎

SERIES

pierced. | spencer reid. fluff, angst, smut (18+) pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5 (nsfw), pt. 6, pt. 7 (nsfw), pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10 (epilogue) (nsfw)

ONE SHOTS

angel. | spencer reid. smut (18+), fluff mansplaining. | spencer reid. fluff, silly safe. | spencer reid. fluff, angst

☾ .⭒˚ the sixth of march ♡ rafayel birthday special

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, porn with very little plot

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 5.09k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni,  semi-public bathroom sex, switch!raf, whiny!raf, semi-public sex, mirror sex, oral sex m!receiving, face/throat fucking, standing sex, hitting it from the back, creampies, cum swallowing, cum in panties, birthday sex, leaking cum in public, please let me know if i missed anything!

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: it’s our little fishy’s birthday! happy birthday rafayel! <3 short lil (lol 5k words short) smut for our precious raf’s birthday. idk why i always end up having raf x y/n sex be in the bathroom its purely coincidental LOL

please note that this is NOT based on his birthday event story OR the birthday event card. It might be somewhat similar but i wrote it entirely separately. If there’s any resemblance its purely coincidental, so don’t expect this fic to be accurate to the event!

as always pls enjoy :) also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

“bruschetta, miss?”

your head snaps to the politely smiling waiter in front of you, holding a tray of the most delicious glistening bread bites, topped with vibrant red cherry tomatoes and fresh green basil. 

“no, thank you,” you decline politely, having had your fill of the endless lavish hors d'oeuvres at the birthday party you’d put together for rafayel. instead, you let your eyes wander back to the highly in-demand purple haired birthday boy across the sea of random people you didn't know, and honestly you weren’t sure rafayel knew them either.

you’d originally wanted something quaint and intimate for rafayel’s 25th birthday, but thanks to thomas it’d turned into a huge elaborate party with business partners, sponsors, and just so many important industry contacts. the guest list spun out of control so fast, until it became a full blown business event.

honestly, you felt so terrible. you knew this is not what rafayel wanted for his birthday, but he was being an incredibly good sport about it, making polite conversation with every single person that approached him. which was extremely unlike him, and that scared you even more. besides the brief embrace you’d shared when he’d arrived, you hadn't had the chance to spend any time with him tonight.

so, like you had the rest of the night, you stared at him from across the ballroom floor, admiring him from afar. he was so unfairly dashing in his white jacket adorned with a gold leafed lapel chain that matched the stars and moon that hung off his golden waist chain. his black tie hung loosely against his hard chest, contrasting beautifully against the shining white pearls on his lapel. 

he’d picked out and gifted you a matching dress for you to wear, and had a driver deliver it to you this morning. it was nothing short of art itself, an extravagant golden a-line tulle evening gown with an expensive sequin and pearl applique that mirrored the starry night sky. the strapless sweetheart neckline pushed your cleavage up as the high slit exposed your bare legs, leaving you feeling beautiful and confident, something rafayel always knew how to do.

rafayel looks up from the undoubtedly very rich and important man he’d been talking to, and catches your stare from across the room. his lips don’t quirk, still caught in his conversation, but his eyes sparkle as they drink you in, the corners crinkling in their own little smile. 

you grin back at him, raising the glass of champagne you’d been holding onto for the entire night, and taking a languid gulp. as you lower the glass, you purposely let a droplet drip down your chin, using your index finger to catch it and bringing it up to your tongue to lick it off.

even from yards away, you can see rafayel’s eyes darken and his neck bob with a gulp. you watch as he falters in his words, trying to steel himself back into his conversation. chuckling to yourself, you turn away from him to give a brief reprieve of your teasing.

the champagne lights your face ablaze, so you decide to run to the bathroom to touch up before your makeup starts melting off. you weave through the hordes of elegantly dressed guests, slightly in shock of how many people showed up to celebrate rafayel. or at least showed up to get in his good graces. 

the banquet hall you’d booked was expensive and intricate, and the bathrooms were no different. as you slipped into the single unisex washroom you barely noticed as rafayel slipped in behind you before you could let the door shut fully. 

you yelped in surprise as he followed you into the single stall bathroom, but the alarm dissipated when you realized it was him and not some random stranger. 

“rafayel!” you reprimanded, pushing the door shut behind him so as to make sure no prying eyes caught the two of you, “what are you doing?!”

rafayel doesn’t respond, instead capturing you in his embrace, his hands settling around the small of your back as he pulls you tightly into his hard body. 

“you shouldn’t tease me all night, it’s not very nice,” he hums, playing with a curled lock of hair against your cheek.

you feign innocence, eyes widening and head cocking to the side, “what am i doing?”

rafayel pouts, his cheeks rosy under the fluorescent bathroom lights, “it’s my birthday, you should be nicer to me.” he tucks the strand of hair he’d been playing with behind your ear.

“i haven’t gotten to see you, all night,” he sulks, his voice tinged with a sharp whine.

you can’t help but giggle at his childish behavior and tease him a bit, “but you were looking at me just earlier!”

he grumbles, thoroughly unamused, “you know that’s not what i mean.”

you sigh and let yourself melt into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in return, “i know, i’m sorry raf. this was supposed to be small, just you, me, and some friends. it got out of control so fast.”

he continues with his pouty tirade. “it’s my birthday,” he whines, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, “and i don’t even get to enjoy the only thing i want.”

he pulls away so he can admire you again, this time right before his hungry and waiting eyes like he should’ve been able to. his gaze devours every inch of you, from the exposed and flushed skin to the way the dress hugs your figure in all the right ways.

“i miss you,” he complains, eyes still drinking you in and hands tight against your waist.

“m’sorry raf,” you murmur, dusting his purple locks away from his eyes, “i missed you too.” 

he sighs dramatically, “i don’t want to talk to any more of those old farts. especially when you look like this right across the room.”

“it’s a beautiful dress. i didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for it yet,” you mumble bashfully, suddenly nervous under his scrutinizing stare.

“i knew you would look exquisite in it,” he grumbles, “but i thought i would be able to spend my night admiring it on you. and off you.”

and though you can tell rafayel is half joking, you can’t help but feel bad that you’re partly to blame for him having to spend his birthday like this, with people who wanted his attention for their own personal selfish reasons.

“i’m sorry babe, it’ll be over soon. i’ll make it up to you, i promise!”

sighing deeply and theatrically again, “how will you make it up to me? i only get one birthday a year, you know?”

you get a mischievous and filthy idea. your hands travel from his back to his abdomen, pushing slightly to create space between your bodies. he eyes you curiously, but lets you continue. as your hands travel further south, undoing the intricate latch of his expensive belt, his eyes widen.

“h-hey! what are you doing?!”

as you get down onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you in your descent, you look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them earnestly, “my birthday boy is unhappy, and we can’t have that can we?” though the bathroom is spotless, the tiled floor likely cleaner than your own bathroom, you’re careful to bunch the beautiful gown up and hold it above your calves, as best as you can.

“i can just give you one of your birthday gifts right now,” you murmur, “but you’ll have to wait until we’re home to unwrap the rest.”

rafayel only gulps in response, his cheeks and earlobes slowly turning crimson as he’s left standing in just his briefs. mesmerized, you watch as his erection lifts against the restraint of his underwear, grasping the base with your fingers and reveling in the way he whimpers into the brisk bathroom air.

you rest your lips against the tent in his briefs, licking at his length against the clothing. he hisses, hands finding purchase in the sink behind him to ground himself against your teasing licks. you keep your eyes glued to his, batting your eyelashes as you take his cock out. as the cold clean air of the bathroom hits him, he sucks in another sharp breath, gripping the sink almost painfully.

rafayel has to remind himself how to breathe as he watches your beautiful eyes widen as you lick at the copious amounts of pre cum dripping down his length and onto his briefs. 

“h-holy shit,” he wheezes out, throwing his head back as your tongue skillfully maneuvers over his glistening bulbous head, the skin pink and angry, demanding attention. you take him fully into your mouth, moaning at the taste of his slick filling your senses. rafayel whines and twitches at the vibrations of your mouth, trying desperately to keep from busting his load into your mouth right there.

you tease him dutifully, only letting his cock enter your mouth, not taking him into your throat just yet. a mess of whimpers and moans, rafayel holds himself back from forcing his length down into your warm and waiting throat, like you’d let him so many times before. the sight of you, all done up in the beautiful golden gown he’d personally picked for you, on your knees for him, drove him insane, but he wanted to be a good boy for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, beautiful sobs breaking out from his mouth, “you feel so g-good.”

your mouth bobs up and down earnestly at his praises, and he’s being so good for you you want to reward him. but your hands are busy holding up your dress from falling to the bathroom floor which makes it difficult for you to service his entire impressive length. so instead, you use one hand to bring each of his palms into your curled hair. luckily you’d worn your hair down in tousled waves so you were able to easily thread his fingers into them, urging him to grip onto you.

you hold his hand there until he gets the message of what you’re asking him to do, or rather giving him permission to do, and he hardens further with excitement. his fingers tighten at your scalp as he begins to fuck into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feel of your thick lips against the veins of his cock.

“hah – you’re so good to me,” he pants, pelvis fervently hitting your mouth as you do your best to relax your throat and take him as deeply as possible. he continues to babble, “f-fuck feels so good baby, i-i can’t stop.” he handles you roughly, hands tight and pace unrelenting, but you absolutely love when he’s this demanding with you.

you moan at his words, feeling yourself dampen in your panties, trying to let the vibrations hit him when he’s as deep as possible. you use your tongue to stroke the vein on the underside of his shaft, wanting to see your birthday boy come undone just for you. he bucks excitedly into your mouth, absolutely lost in the way your mouth attempts to accommodate every inch of him. 

“you take me so fucking well,” he whines, still fucking vigorously into your mouth, “your mouth was made for me to fuck, my perfect girl.”

rafayel’s vision blacks as you gulp around him, your throat constricting impossibly tight against his cock. the sounds of your guttural choking drive him to the edge, and when he looks down to see tears running down your gorgeous face and drool trailing down your chin, his erection lurches with the need to release deep down your throat. 

“m’gonna cum baby,” he warns, “you can take it all right? you can, you will.” 

you hum in response, and the vibrations send him over the edge. with his hands intertwined in your hair, rafayel lets out a strangled moan as he absolutely explodes into your waiting mouth. 

you do your best not to choke on the sheer amount of cum he releases, the sweet-salty taste blinding all your senses. you lick his cock diligently, working him through his climax, and savoring every last drop of his essence. 

he twitches with overstimulation inside your mouth, but still painfully hard. you release him and gasp for air, as stray rivulets of cum streak down your chin. rafayel bends down to lift you up off your knees, mesmerized by the fucked out look on your face, even though he’d only ravished your mouth. 

“that was incredible, you are incredible. i wasn’t too rough was i?” he inspects your face carefully, wiping a tear off your cheek.

“you weren’t,” you reassured with a smile, turning to the mirror and sink behind him. 

“is your birthday night slightly better now?” you tease, fixing your appearance in the mirror. you wash the spit and cum from your chin, and then dab carefully at the dark smudges of makeup smeared under your eyes.

“i want my other gift now,” rafayel mumbles, coming up behind you and moving your dress to the side so that the slit parts and exposes the back of your thighs. 

“h-here?” you ask in disbelief, as if you didn’t just suck him off. but your risque streak had evaporated as fast as it had come, and now you quivered at the idea of having sex in this private, but still public, bathroom, with dozens of people outside likely looking for the artist himself. 

“can i please?” he pouts, and you can see his begging eyes behind you in the mirror, “it’s still my birthday for another few hours.” his hands fiddle with your dress impatiently, but still waiting for your consent nonetheless. “and i was so good tonight, talking to those people all night when all i  wanted was to be with you.”

your heart squeezes at his adorable pleas. you can’t deny the way the idea of rafayel taking you in this shared public space has you leaking. the hungry longing in his eyes, masked by the adorable puppy eyes, makes you cave. you nod gently, and rafayel’s instantly on his knees, burying himself under the tulle of your dress.

you can feel rafayel pausing with his face close to your heat. “raf?” you whisper, breathless with anticipation. 

“when did you buy these?” you realize he’s admiring your panties, part of a set you’d bought to surprise him for his birthday. you’d nearly forgotten you wore it under your dress, wanting him to unwrap you like a present after the party. 

“happy birthday rafayel,” you giggle weakly, his breath fanning over your cunt, making you squirm. the purple haired artist is speechless under you, staring at the intricate embroidered sea stars and shells that adorned the turquoise semi sheer mesh, making it look like you were naked save for the beautiful applique. 

“you’re telling me you were wearing this under the dress?” you can tell rafayel was on the edge of going feral just by admiring the little knit shells against your most delicate region. you shivered thinking about how’d he’d act when he’d see the matching bra, hopefully later tonight. his words came out strained, as he tried his best to keep himself level. 

“it’s your birthday, and i wrapped myself up nicely for you,” you murmur, as you lean over the sink with your hands gripping the sides, waiting for him to finally do something. you almost want to step back and shove yourself into him, but you do your best to remain patient, letting him admire every inch of your lace clad cunt.

he swears, finally snapping out of his trance, “fuck, i will take my time with you later. right now i j-just need you.” you hiss as his fingers finally glaze over your no doubt glistening folds, the cold air nipping at your exposed and sensitive area. he pulls the intricate lace off of you, stuffing it into his pockets so as to not let them touch the floor.

you cry out when his lips find your dripping cunt, devouring you from behind. his strong fingers grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart slightly to give him better access to his favorite dessert. like you yourself had earlier, he moans at the taste and his vibrations resonate straight to your g spot. your knees buckle at the pleasure, and you do your best to keep your moans muffled in case anyone was waiting outside the locked door.

rafayel fucks you with his tongue languidly, his hand reaching between your legs to rub at your throbbing nub. your eyes roll into your head, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, biting down to stop the scream from ripping out.

rafayel is unhappy with your muffled cries of ecstasy, wanting to hear you in full. he stands to his full height, leaving you whimpering at the loss of his warmth against your dripping pussy. he stands, incredibly tall behind you, leaning into your ear.

“you know i hate it when you hide your noises from me,” he whispers, lining up his hardened length against your hole, bending you over the sink.

“i-i don’t want anyone to h-hear,” you stutter, grinding yourself onto his cock, wanting to be filled. 

rafayel rubs himself against you, gathering your slick and lathering it all over, “then i’ll just have to force them out of you, huh?” with that slight threat, he sheathes himself fully into you, you practically scream into your hand, except this time rafayel yanks your hand away, holding it behind your back firmly. your scream echoes against the walls of the bathroom, and you pray no one is outside the door. anyone within ten feet of the door would undoubtedly hear the lewd noises coming from inside the bathroom.

“let me hear you,” he purrs against your ear, thrusting slowly into your gummy walls. but still, you bite your lip, the idea of someone hearing you both mortifying and incredibly hot. 

his thrusts are rough and demanding, making you bump into the cold surface of the sink. with rafayel’s other hand he grabs your chin between his fingers and holds it up so that your eyes level with the mirror in front of you.

“watch. watch me fuck you baby,” his voice is so charismatic you can’t help but obey him. your eyes meet his in the mirror, as you watch his face contort as he fucked into your womb. he smirks at you, hands leaving your face when he’s sure you won’t look away, to grip your waist. his large hands manhandled you so deliciously, using your body like a toy against his ravaging strokes. 

watching rafayel’s cocky smile as he forced you to keep contact with his eyes through the mirror quickly drove you closer and closer to your climax, the excitement of it all unbearable. your moans echoed throughout the bathroom, the sounds of his pelvis hitting your ass deafening. 

rafayel ravages you with the intent to make you absolutely lose your mind. he wants you to moan so loudly that you can’t restrain your cries of pleasure, so that anyone outside could hear exactly what he was doing to you.

“that’s my – haah –fucking girl,” he moans, hand smacking against the ripples of your ass bouncing against him. you yelp at the contact, the pain mixing deliciously with the endless ecstasy. your walls sucked him in repeatedly, squeezing every inch of his length, trying to milk him. “taking me so so well. hah – look at you, spoiling me for my birthday.”

his palm gently strikes your rear again, “i must be the luckiest damn man on this planet. in this galaxy.” he reaches to your front, rifling through all your layers of tulle to find your clit, rubbing the slick nub until tears leaked out of your eyes. 

“r-raf, feels s-sooo good,” you slurred, leaning backwards so you could reach up for his hair as he gripped you from behind. your bare back slotted tightly against his chest and your fingers gripped into his soft purple hair, tugging roughly. you laid your messy hair into his chest, and he rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder and neck, and the two of you made eye contact in the mirror. 

rafayel always put your pleasure above anything else, focussing on making you feel good before he even thought about himself. but your ecstasy was his pleasure. and so as he watched your face contort, eyes practically all whites, tongue lolling out of your beautiful lips, tears running down your face, his cock throbbed wanting to fill you to the absolute brim.

he was suddenly filled with the urge, the need to breed you. his woman, who’d dressed up just for him, in a set that was undoubtedly picked just to drive him insane. his love, who he spent the whole night admiring from across the room, when all he wanted for his birthday was to be with you. his girl, his everything, who’d spent weeks planning a whole night for him, even if it didn’t turn out the way he’d have wanted. 

well that wasn’t entirely true. it actually did turn out exactly the way he’d wanted, with you a wet whimpering mess for him, his cock stuffed inside you while you begged for more. this was in fact exactly how he wanted to spend every second of his birthday, inside you.

“you’re – hah – all mine,” he slurred, drunk off your pussy, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each stroke, “i’m gonna cum in you tonight, ‘kay?”

you nod eagerly, watching his feral expression in the mirror. his brows crinkled adorably, with his lip gripped tightly in his teeth. “you’re gonna – fuuck – walk around the rest of the night with my cum leaking out of you, okay baby?”

you clench at his filthy words, knowing he’s dead serious. amidst the lust filled haze, you’re so fucked out that nothing sounds better than that. the idea of having to mingle with so many people while rafayel’s claim to you literally drips down your legs is just enough to have you crying out for him, completely uninhibited.there was no doubt anyone even remotely near the bathroom would’ve heard the way you wailed and moaned for him.

you catch rafayel’s satisfied smirk in the mirror as he takes you repeatedly from behind, eyes still glued to yours. the heat in his blue-purple orbs is palpable, almost threatening to devour you whole, and your grip tightens in his hair. you pull him impossibly closer, straining your neck painfully so you can turn and kiss him. 

he leans in so you don’t have to bend too far backward, taking your lips passionately into his, even at this awkward angle. you slide your tongue into his mouth, wanting to take the teeniest bit of control as his cock burrowed its way into your stomach, claiming every inch of your gummy walls. 

rafayel moaned at the feeling of your sweet tongue flickering against his, letting you explore his mouth. he was happy to relinquish control, even if only slightly, especially if it meant he could watch the way your face contorted at every little movement he made. 

the mirror made things exponentially more erotic, the way he could see his girl blissed out in front of him, and admire every single angle and aspect of you taking him so beautifully. the way you could watch each other, watch the way your bodies made absolute art together. 

as your tongues danced, your cunt clenched in anticipation, wanting desperately to release all over him. 

“r-raf,” you pant, “m’so close.” 

“m-me too love,” he ground into your ear, teeth gritting on the brink of pain, “gonna paint your beautiful little pussy ‘kay?”

you nod vigorously, eyes shutting as you feel the orgasm creeping up on you and igniting every nerve ending on fire. you gasp as you feel rafayel’s fingers gently grip your throat, squeezing just enough to have sparks ignite in your vision. 

“watch,” he commanded forcefully, a rough demand you so rarely heard lacing his alluring musical voice, “need you to watch when i pump you full of my seed, okay love?”

you force your eyes to stay open, watching the primal expression on his face as his thrusts go deeper, harder. he forces himself into brushing harshly into your g spot, his free hand returning to rub ruthless circles onto your soaked clit. 

you scream out when he touches you, every single point of contact an endless tsunami of pleasure. his eyes command yours, forcing you to watch every single thing he does to your body. 

“god you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re gonna – hah – look even more beautiful with my baby inside you.”

your eyes widen at his words, lust getting the better of your usually sound judgment as you clench uncontrollable around his throbbing cock. he hisses at the harsh squeeze.

“such a greedy girl,” he huffs breathlessly into your earlobe, nibbling down gently, “you want to be a mommy that bad? you’re trying to – hah fuck –  squeeze it out of me?” 

his words push you tumbling into your body numbing orgasm. you’re unable to hold back the scream that wrenches from deep in your throat, rafayel’s fingers still gripping forcefully. 

“oh god, m’cumming raf, cumming so hard,” you wail, body fluttering around him uncontrollably and knees going weak. rafayel holds you steady so that you don’t crash into the floor as he continues to fuck into your body, so close to his own unraveling. he only grunts in response, losing himself in the tightness and warmth of your grip on him.

“please, please, please!” you beg, wanting him to give you everything he has. you’re still in the thick of your orgasm and you wracked with the absolute need to feel him all over your insides. 

rafayel whimpers into your ear, getting wrapped up in the way you beg for him, “sh-shit y/n, if you keep s-squeezing like that i’m gonna –” he cuts himself with a torrid curse as your orgasm causes you to crush him inside of you.

“y-yes please. raf please. i need you s’bad,” you cry as he stares at you in the mirror, refusing to let go of eye contact. you’re desperate to feel him release inside you while you’re still in the midst of your own climax.

“o-okay love, anything for my needy little princess,” he groans out, before unleashing the most unholiest of swears, erection faltering inside you and trembling as it unloads completely. 

rafayel grips you for dear life as he cums inside you, his load hot, thick, and unrelenting. his hand is still at your throat as he whimpers into your ear, his breath hot and warm on your skin. you watch the euphoria on his face as he continues to rock into you, his copious release already leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

you reel, feeling faint and short of breath, as you come down from your high, still leaning back into rafayel’s sturdy stature. his arms move to wrap securely around you, kissing the curve of your neck as his languid thrusts slow to a stop. 

“you’re the best birthday present ever,” he murmurs, burying his face into your neck and inhaling your pheromones, absolutely drunk off of you. he removes himself from the warmth of your cunt, and you whimper as your combined release comes rushing down your thighs, your poor pussy just unable to hold the sheer amount of release rafayel had pumped into you.

you try your best to smooth your dress, grabbing some paper towels to wipe your thighs off. but rafayel stops you, his fingers gentle but firm against your wrist.

“what are you doing?” he’s smirking at you, so much mischievous light in his eyes. he fishes your panties out of his pocket and hands them to you expectantly. 

“put them back on,” he grins at you, looking absolutely and devilishly handsome despite having just ravaged you thoroughly. you on the other hand looked like a mess, like you’d undoubtedly just been fucked. 

you’re about to whine and complain, but you bite it back, wanting to please your birthday boy. sighing, you lift your dress, slowly slipping the panties back on. you wince as the fabric dampens, pushing the release back into your sopping cunt.

“let me see.” rafayel is on his knees in between your legs again before you know it, widening the slit of your gown. he admires you for a good ten seconds, before kissing your inner thighs and rising back to his feet. 

“are you satisfied?” you tease, trying to shake off the discomfort between your legs. 

“hmm…i guess you’re a little forgiven…'' he feigns being deep in thought, scratching his chin with his fingers, “i expect many more presents when i take you home tonight.”

you lean up on your tiptoes, even in your heels rafayel still towered over you, and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. you giggle at the way even the softest kiss has his ears and cheeks turning deeply pink. “there will be many more presents for you waiting at home. of the naked variety.”

you thoroughly enjoy the way rafayel shys away from your eyes, the crimson on his face deepening. his excitement is evident by the way he has to readjust his dress pants, and he clears his throat trying to calm himself down. 

“you’re going to regret that at home, sweetheart,” he grumbles.

“will i?” you can’t stop teasing him, your eyes glimmering with mischief as you whip around as gracefully as you can, slipping out of the bathroom and leaving him thoroughly frazzled behind you.

–

you spend the rest of the night trying to mingle with rafayel’s guests, and trying your best to ignore the way rafayel’s cosmic eyes track your every move. the way you feel like he can see right through your layers and layers of tulle, and see his milky white essence dripping slowly down your thighs. 

he grins at you from across the room, raising his glass of champagne at you as he throws himself animatedly into conversation with his guests, with much more enthusiasm and vigor than he had previously all night. and when he did take you home that night, he absolutely did make you regret teasing him on his very own birthday, in ways that had you unable to walk the next day.

© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡

tag list: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

Enough to Go By -- a Shigaraki x F!reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 1

You had a best friend when you were little, just like almost everyone, and the two of you were as different as two people could be. He was a boy and you were a girl. You were the oldest of four, and he was the youngest of two. His family was rich because his dad was some kind of business genius, and your family was – not. You and your best friend had exactly two things in common. First, you lived across from each other on the same street, him in a big new house and you in one that had been falling apart since before your parents were born. And second, and maybe most important, neither of you had a quirk.

It was okay for your best friend. He still had time. People in his family got their quirks when they were two or three or four or maybe even six, like they were supposed to. But everyone in your family is born with theirs. Your family’s quirks do different things, but they’re the same type of thing – powering up or watering down or just changing some part of somebody else, and they’re active until the person’s old enough to turn them off.

You hated being home. You had one younger brother who could turn your hearing up and down, one younger sister who could turn your color vision on and off, and twin baby brothers who could make you throw up whenever they wanted to. Going to school, or going across the street to play in front of Tenko’s house with him and his big sister and his dog, was the closest things ever got to normal for you.

Tenko wanted to be a hero. You knew he’d be the best hero, because he was a hero already, even without a quirk. Nobody was every left out when you and Tenko played at school, because Tenko could make everybody feel included, and you spent so much time trying to placate your siblings that you knew how to make sure everybody had fun. But for everybody to have fun, people needed to be there. Tenko was the one everybody believed in, the one who made everybody feel important. When you spent time with Tenko, you felt like you belonged. Tenko was already a hero, even as a kid. You knew he’d be amazing at it when he grew up.

Only he didn’t grow up, your best friend. You walked home from school together one day, said goodbye and crossed to your opposite sides of the street, and when you looked out your window the next morning, Tenko’s house was gone.

A villain did it. That’s what everybody said, and you didn’t know what else it could be, because Tenko’s house was in ruins, like a giant had smashed it with its foot or someone had blown it up from the inside. You raced across the street without your shoes on, right into the middle of what was left, and even though your parents spent money they didn’t have on a specialist whose quirk let them wipe memories right out of your brain, you still have nightmares sometimes about what you saw. Tenko’s big sister Hana was dead. His dog was dead. His mom and his grandparents and his dad were dead. But he wasn’t there, so you made yourself believe he was alive.

And some part of you kept believing, even after the foundations of an apartment building were laid over the spot where Tenko’s house used to be, even after your family moved away. Your youngest younger siblings, a set of triplets born after you moved, thought Tenko was your imaginary friend because of how much you talked about him. And even once you stopped talking about him, you never quite stopped thinking about him. Your best friend, who wanted to be a hero. Who would have been the greatest hero the world had ever seen.

Everyone else forgot him, forgot him so cleanly that you almost wonder if it was a quirk. But you remember your best friend – small things, weird things, like how he’d sometimes get so excited he’d almost cry. His All Might impression, which was so bad it almost worked. His dry skin and the way he’d scratch his neck. You wonder what happened, why he wasn’t found with his family. You wonder a lot of things.

“Everybody loses touch with their neighborhood kids,” Hirono says when you say something about it, while you and your friends are getting drunk in Kazuo’s backyard one weekend. “You’re not special.”

“Don’t be mean,” Yoshimi protests. “Her friend died. That’s different!”

“She just said he didn’t die. She thinks he’s still alive,” Sho says. He whistles and rotates one finger by his ear. “Cuckoo.”

“There should be a podcast about this,” Mitsuru says seriously, and Hirono and Mitsuko laugh at him. “No, there should! Five people confirmed murdered and a kid goes missing – and it’s never solved? That’s podcast material.”

“It’s newsworthy,” Kazuo says, his voice as expressionless as it always is these days. “Have you looked it up?”

“Yes,” you say. Too many times, probably. “The articles don’t say my friend went missing.”

“They said he died?”

“They don’t mention him at all.”

“Ooh. Spooky.” Sho makes a UFO noise, and Yoji, Yoshimi’s on-again, off-again asshole boyfriend, throws in some spiritfingers to go with it. “Maybe he’s imaginary after all.”

“Or maybe you do have a quirk,” Yuichiro, Mitsuko’s latest too-innocent boyfriend says earnestly. “Your family’s all status effects, right? Maybe you made everybody else forget him.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask blankly. You’re a little drunk. “He’s my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend,” Kazuo says. Kazuo’s also a little drunk. “You don’t have a quirk. I would know. I know everything.”

The confidence is annoying, or it would be, if it wasn’t true – and if you didn’t know just how badly Kazuo’s quirk has ruined his life. “Maybe not,” Ryuhei says speculatively. “You only know what you know to know, you know?”

You try to parse that for a second, then give up. Mitsuru is wheezing with laughter. “Come on,” Ryuhei says, annoyed. “You know what I mean. Kazuo only knows the answers to questions he knows to ask, right? What if he hasn’t asked the right question?”

Kazuo’s quirk is called Search Engine, and it’s not an overstatement. He can ascertain anything he asks about, and if the questions aren’t hyperspecific, he can take in vast amounts of information. Too much information for even the smartest person to sort through and interpret without going crazy under the strain. He was going to be a hero, but UA High pushed him too hard, and something went wrong in his head. The smartest guy you know, who used to be funny and kind and should be changing the world for the better right now, is instead drunk in his parents’ backyard, still trying to figure out where his emotions went. You haven’t seen Kazuo care about anything in two years.

But you can see him thinking about what Ryuhei said, trying to wrap his mind around a question. “Don’t,” you say, and he looks at you, puzzled. “If I had a quirk, I’d have had it when I was born, just like the rest of my family.”

“Your family has some funky quirks,” Yoji says. You have a feeling you know where he’s going with this, and you’re not wrong. “Isn’t one of your cousins a villainess?”

“She barely counts,” Hirono says. “What could they even charge her with if they caught her? Possession of a video camera and bad taste in men? They could charge Yoshimi with that, too.”

“Hey!”

Sho and Ryuhei join in on the ribbing, and you lean back against the steps. Kazuo rises from his chair a little unsteadily and comes to sit by you. “You never mentioned this friend of yours before.”

“It never came up.” You glance sidelong at him. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No,” Kazuo says. He hiccups. His alcohol tolerance has always been weirdly low. “I’m surprised you never asked me to find him. Maybe I could.”

“I know.” If Kazuo ever recovers from what UA High did to him, the government will be all over him. He could find anything, anyone – but like Ryuhei said, he has to know what questions to ask. “I think I’m scared of what you’d find. I don’t want him to be dead.”

“Dead might be better.”

You almost choke on the sip of vodka you just took. “Excuse me?”

“If he died, he died,” Kazuo says. No shit. “If he’s still alive, he’s been missing for fifteen years. During my work-study, I assisted in the search for several missing children. Nothing good had happened to the ones we found alive.”

You hadn’t thought about that, what it would actually mean if Tenko is still alive, and your brain supplies you instantly with a list of terrible things that could have happened to your best friend. Your imagination is pretty vivid. Your stomach turns. “I don’t want that,” you say. “I just want him to be okay.”

“Sometimes dead is better,” Kazuo says again. And then he’s quiet.

You try to get back into the mood of the party, but what Kazuo said sticks, and you’re kind of mad at him about it. The old Kazuo wouldn’t have said something like that, or else he would have put it more gently. You miss the old Kazuo. Thanks to a villain fifteen years ago and UA fucking High, you’re now short two best friends.

Kazuo’s a good guy, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t drawn to him because of who he reminded you of. You have a soft spot for dark-haired boys who want to be heroes. If Tenko hadn’t gone missing and the two of you had gotten to grow up together, you probably would have wound up with a big, stupid crush on him, the supercharged version of how you felt about Kazuo. But a relationship between the two of you wouldn’t have worked out, for the same reason your relationship with Kazuo didn’t work. Being a hero comes first. Being a hero always comes first with guys like them. You probably wouldn’t like them as much if it didn’t.

Getting drunk at Kazuo’s is a typical Friday night pastime among your friends, and usually everybody sleeps over. Everybody usually includes you, but you have to work tomorrow, which means you have to go home. Sometimes you and Kazuo still fool around when you’re both drunk, and you want to avoid that, too. You drink a glass of water and start sobering up while the others are still sorting out places to sleep, and then you tell them all good by and head out, taking three trains in a loop around the city to give yourself even more time to sober up before you have to walk home. You don’t live in the nicest neighborhood. You need to be alert.

When you finally get off the train at your stop, you realize you’ve got another problem. You’re hungry, and you won’t have time to cook when you get home if you want to sleep at all tonight. The all-night convenience store a few blocks up from your apartment is beckoning to you, and you give in without a fight. You’ll pick something to eat, eat it in the store for one last period of sobering-up, and walk the rest of the way home.

You feel a little better with a few bites of food in your stomach, and you’re pretty sure you’re not going to throw it up later. You hang out in the corner of the shop, a good spot to people-watch from if there were any people in here but you and the owner. The TV behind the counter is blaring the news about some villain attack, somewhere – two dumb-ass middle schoolers, one sludge villain, one can of whoop-ass opened by All Might. What else is new.

“Turn that shit off.”

The voice is raspy, and it’s coming from the far corner of the store. So there’s somebody else in here after all. You rise to your tiptoes and peer over the shelves to spot the speaker. They’re wearing a black hoodie with the hood up and browsing for energy drinks, and apparently they have a real problem with what’s on TV – which means the proprietor has a real problem with them. “Got a problem with heroics? Or does seeing real heroes just remind you what a bum you are?”

“Fuck off,” the guy in the hoodie says sharply. “You’ve got more in common with me than you do with them. If you were there, you think you’d run in to help? No. You’d wait for a hero, because you’re useless and pathetic. At least I don’t walk around pretending to be something I’m not.”

Hoodie guy sort of has a point, even if you don’t like how he’s phrasing it. Hoodie guy also sucks at reading the room, because after that little back-and-forth, he yanks an energy drink out of the case and a package of sour candies off a shelf and heads up to the counter. The proprietor laughs in his face. “Get out of here. If you think I’m selling even a stick of gum to you, you’re out of your mind.”

Hoodie guy’s shoulders tense. “You’re so desperate to defend All Might that you won’t take my money? He’s not gonna fuck you.”

You must be a little more drunk than you thought, because you have to clamp your hands over your mouth to stifle a laugh. But there’s nothing funny about the situation that’s unfolding in front of you. The proprietor’s looking increasingly pissed, and Hoodie Guy’s hands are out of his pockets, open and twitching at his sides. You don’t know what either of their quirks are, but you’ve got seven siblings. You know what it looks like when a situation’s about to spiral out of control.

“I said get out,” the proprietor spits. He shoves the drink and the package of candy back across the counter, hard enough that they fall off and roll across the floor. Hoodie Guy’s hands begin to lift from his sides, and you step out of your corner. “You want to start something? Go ahead. The cops will be here so fast –”

“Not fast enough for you,” Hoodie Guy hisses. His hands are all the way up, reaching over the counter.

You scoop the snacks off the floor and duck into the scant space between Hoodie Guy and the counter. You elbow him a bit by accident and he stumbles, swears at you. You ignore him and focus on the proprietor. “Hi. I’m still hungry. Can I get these?”

The proprietor squints at you, nonplussed. Behind you, Hoodie Guy’s gotten his feet under him, and if it’s possible, he’s extra pissed. “Get out of my way.”

“You don’t want this kind of trouble,” you say, ignoring Hoodie Guy. He’s the instigator. You need him to shut up so you can handle this before it escalates. “I know you don’t. You want him out of here and he wants his snacks. If you don’t want his money, mine’s just as good.”

You’re conscious of Hoodie Guy looming over your shoulder. He’s not all that much taller than you, but he’s standing a little too close. You take your wallet out, and that seems to settle the issue. “You’re lucky your girlfriend’s here to help you out. That’ll be ¥1800.”

You pay up and collect the snacks. When you turn away from the counter, Hoodie Guy’s right there, and you get your first good look at his face – or at the life-sized model hand clamped over his face. That’s – weird. You can’t see his expression, but his tone of voice is unmistakable. “If you think –”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “You’re not gonna fuck me.”

It’s not a joke you’d make sober, but with the proprietor calmed slightly down, you have to knock Hoodie Guy off his game somehow. It works. He makes a weird, strangled sound, and you grab him by his sleeve and tow him out the door.

He lets you do it, which is a surprise, and you let him go as soon as the doors close behind you. You hold out the snack and the energy drink. “Here.”

You can’t see his face, but you can see one red eye, peering out at you through the fingers of the hand. “It was pretty stupid of you to get in my way.”

“It was pretty stupid of you to go up to the counter. If you’d stormed off he wouldn’t have chased you.” You’ve seen Sho use that tactic before – needle a store owner until they want him gone more than they want to check his pockets. “Just take this, okay?”

He raises one hand and scratches at his neck. There’s something familiar about the motion, and the scarred, scraped-raw patch of skin there. Maybe you’ve seen something similar at work. “Either you used some kind of quirk or you got lucky. Which is it?”

“Neither. I have seven siblings and I’m good at toning things down.” You’ve wished for a quirk that lets you affect others’ moods more than a few times. You had to learn your de-escalation techniques the hard way. “Do you want these or not?”

He’s still scratching, and something’s pulling at the back of your mind, harder and harder. “Seven siblings,” he says slowly. “That’s three more.”

“Three more than what?” you say, puzzled. And then it clicks.

You have seven siblings now. When you lived across the street from your best friend, you only had four. And now you get why the scratching looks so familiar, why there’s so much scar tissue in the place he’s clawing at – because he’s been scratching that same spot for a decade and a half. It doesn’t matter than his hair is grey-blue instead of black, that his eyes are red instead of grey. It doesn’t even matter that he’s got a creepy hand stuck over his face. You know who you’re looking at, and the surge of joy that overtakes you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

You’d keep it to yourself, ordinarily. But tonight you’re a little drunk, and you can’t hold it in. “Tenko,” you say, and he freezes like he’s been struck by lightning. “You’re alive!”

Tenko stays frozen until you reach for him, at which point he bolts, and you really shouldn’t follow him – but you’re drunk and it’s your best friend and he’s alive just like you knew he was, so you chase after him. He was a little clumsy when you were kids. You were always a little faster on your feet, but his legs are longer than yours now, and he keeps you at a fair distance until he trips.

It’s sort of your fault he trips. He’s looking back over his shoulder, checking where you are, and he’s not watching his feet. It’s a bad fall. He sprawls out, the hand over his face dislodging and bouncing across the concrete, and you hear him cursing under his breath in a voice that carries a familiar strain. You’ve heard that before. You do what you did back then. You run to his side and drop to your knees, hands outstretched to help. “Tenko –”

“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” Tenko lashes out with one hand, and instinct tells you to get out of range. The hand he lashes out with looks wrong – hurt, maybe, in the fall. His other hand is up over his face, covering it the same way the model hand was. “Father – I need – where –”

Father. You wonder if Tenko knows what happened to his father – but he’s feeling around on the concrete with the maybe-broken hand, and you realize what he’s looking for. “It’s over here,” you say. “Stay there. I can –”

“No.” Tenko lunges past you, seizes the hand, secures it over his face. Then he turns on you, and the hatred in his eyes sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine.

He knocks you onto your back. You know some self-defense – like any girl, like any person without a quirk – and you kick and thrash, arching your back, trying to throw him off. Some part of your mind is still spinning, because it’s Tenko, your best friend, who wants to be a hero – and it’s Tenko, his forearm coming down across your throat and half his body weight leaning onto it. You cough and sputter, and Tenko raises his other hand, all five fingers outstretched. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll kill you fast. Lie and it’ll be slow. Who are you?”

You don’t know how he expects you to answer with his arm over your throat. Dark spots are beginning to fill your vision. You shove at his arm, and his hand closes around your wrist. His grip is hot and dry and shaking, and a split second after he’s touched you, the burning starts. It’s like his hand is dipped in acid, like it’s clawing through your skin one layer at a time, and you scream in pain. Or you try to. He increases the pressure on your throat and chokes the sound off. “Don’t touch me,” he snarls. “And don’t scream. Who are you?”

You manage to rasp out your name, and you see Tenko’s expression shift. “We went to school together,” you gasp. “I lived across the street from you. We played together. You were –”

You black out for a second, and the pressure on your throat lifts slightly. “What?” Tenko spits. “I was what?”

“My best friend,” you whisper. Your eyes well up, tears running down your face when you blink. “I missed you so much –”

Tenko stares down at you for a moment longer. Then he recoils away from you, up onto his feet and back five or six steps. He’s cradling his wrist. You roll from your back to your side and gasp for air. There’s a rattle in your breathing that tells you your windpipe’s damaged, and when you blink the tears and spots from your vision to stare at your wrist, you see that your skin is raw, bloody and oozing. There’s the outline of all five of Tenko’s fingers, his thumb and middle finger joined, rotted into your skin.

“Go,” Tenko says. You look numbly up at him and see his face twisted behind the hand. “Now.”

Your wrist – his hair – his eyes – Tenko has a quirk now. An awful quirk. “What happened to you?” you ask helplessly. “Where did you go? Are you –”

“Go!” Tenko snaps at you. “Before I change my mind. Run!”

You scramble backwards and collide with something. The energy drink and the package of candy, which you dropped when you ran to help Tenko after he fell. The sight of them makes you want to burst into tears again. You don’t want to take them with you. You bought them for him. Without looking his way, you pick them up and set them on the ground between the two of you, pushing them towards him so he knows who they’re for. Then you force yourself to your hands and your knees and your feet and run for your life, away from the best friend you now know you’ve lost for good.

You didn’t want Tenko to be dead, and he isn’t. But Kazuo was right, too. Maybe dead would have been better. Anything would have been better than this.

ykw…. this is probably a funny joke 💔 haha very funny for april fools FIX IT.

(pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls 🙏🏾🙇🏽‍♀️🙇🏽‍♀️)