｡𖦹°‧ You Matter To Me ｡𖦹°‧

Keigo Takami / Hawks X Reader (eventually various X reader but that’s if I decide to continue with the burst of inspiration)

If this isn’t that meaty for you…. THEY JUST MET LET THEM COOK

Summary: Small light banter for a first meeting between freshly debuted Hawks and an Isekai’d reader.

Basically after reading copious amounts of amazingly talented stories by amazingly talented writers. “DEPOLLUTE ME, GENTLE ANGEL” by @fallen-w1ngs and Changing History by SummerBlack on Quotev. With “depollute me” the author humanizes the pro hero from being just a symbol. Meanwhile with “Changing History” the author introduces an emotion more attuned to feeling real and how life isn’t just a cycle that is predetermined. So my dynamic of choice was you as the reader have already been thrown in this world for the first 18 years of your life. If you were put in this world why not do the expected? Become a hero. But if all things are fake why take anything seriously?

If you couldn’t gather from that, the reader and hawks will grow and learn that they have the ability to matter and deserve to feel like they belong. I don’t have a very serious style of writing but I do try! Maybe not my best but key emphasis on try! Today we delve into YOU! YOUR CHARACTER!

This was all made on my notes app while on vacation 😺

Word count: 4280 ish, (idk through editing I added some things)

A blur of red and gold emerged first, feathers catching the sunlight just before their owner stepped forward with an easy, lopsided grin. Hawks, the newly minted Pro, looked entirely unbothered by the attention, despite the sudden chorus of excited shouts.

“Hawks! Can you sign this?”

“Dude, your debut fight was insane!”

“Picture, please?”

He laughed, ruffling his windswept hair as he glanced over the eager faces.

“Man, you guys really know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he said, grabbing the nearest pen. “Alright, line up nice and neat, yeah? I’ve got places to be, but I can’t just leave my awesome fans hanging.”

As he signed posters, notebooks, and even the occasional wing-shaped keychain, Hawks kept that signature smirk in place. He’d always known he’d make it this far—but seeing the real, tangible proof of it in the form of starstruck faces and excited voices?

Yeah, this was pretty damn cool.

As the crowd died down, Originally just going to walk away you thought about when would even be the next time you’d see him. Unfortunately since being thrown into this world, the whole concept of canon magnets for main characters was not even a concept in your life.

“You know, if you’re acting like this right out of the gate, I can’t even imagine how inflated your ego will get once you’re officially ranked among the top heroes.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have no idea where you’re getting that impression.” You almost felt bad for taking away his moment. The disheveled blonde looked like he might’ve been having a sincere, heartfelt moment.

“It’s always the pretty boys with the massive egos,” you sighed dramatically, looking away. Seeing Hawks in all his glory had to come with a little entertainment, right?

He took a step back, eyeing your UA uniform as if sizing you up.

“Maybe the hostility’s coming from jealousy?”

“It’s the Icarus trope for me” you mutter

“Sorry?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes. “Oh nothing! You sure would think that.”

To be honest, you hadn’t meant to bump into him. You were just on your way home from school, with nothing more in mind than a nice nap. Being a third-year at UA in the most boring era of this universe really didn’t leave you with much to look forward to.

“I mean, looks like we’re heading in the same direction,” he said, curiosity creeping into his tone as he took another sip from his drink.

“You’re not wrong, but the flashy vibe you’re giving off? It’s almost alarming.”

He gave you a distraught look.

“Imagine this, I’m getting saved by—wait, what’s your name again?” Oh, it wouldn’t be impossible for actually knowing him. Sure, he had only debuted a few months ago and the crowd that just left that chanted his name every two seconds would be a sign for his name, but you couldn’t help it. In your past life, the sheer amount of content of the show you consumed meant you had to know him but better safe than sorry.

“Hawks,” he replied, deadpan, amusement flickering in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In response he raised his brow

It probably looked like you were laughing at him, which, in a way, you kind of were. You remembered the draft photos of when his character was first being developed—back when they considered giving him an actual hawk head. The thought alone made you smile.

“Pro hero Hawks saves me, and the sheer massiveness of his ego completely blindsides me. I’m struck by how conventionally hot he is, and then I die in your arms. Yeah, not a good look for you.”

You sighed inwardly. All in all, you were probably born in the worst generation in the My Hero universe. You couldn’t even be part of the middle generation where you could’ve had the chance to work as a teacher with Aizawa and the rest of the crew. It was a possibility, sure, but it felt so far out of reach. And the idea of being around Present Mic—preferably with his hair down and you age-appropriate for him? That would’ve been a dream.

But here you were, a few years older than the main cast. Actually, you were the same age as Keigo. As much as you loved his character, he didn’t really become important until the fifth season. Which meant you had little to no relevance to the plot or any of the major characters. You couldn’t help but feel like you were stuck in some lame generation, unable to make an impact.

Why couldn’t any isekai story go right? You really felt like you’d lost the genetic lottery over and over again. You couldn’t have been born just a few years younger, so you could’ve at least had the chance to be around your other favorite sunshine-blonde character, Mirio. Not being his age had probably made you feel like you’d lost years of your life unknowingly.

“Maamaa, we just met, and you’ve already got a grudge against me?” He teased, giving you a playful frown.

Immediately it springs in your head that you’ve probably come off as a total asshole. Screw the curse of having an outside point of view. The fact of knowing none of this was real maybe gave a bad look on the outside.

You suddenly felt a wave of regret hit you, realizing how your words had come across. His playful tone, the teasing frown—everything made it clear he wasn’t offended, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had crossed a line. You opened your mouth, but your thoughts were tangled, and it took a moment to collect your words.

“Ah, look, I—” You hesitated, eyes darting away, feeling heat rising in your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s just… I don’t know, sometimes I get carried away, and—” You mentally cursed yourself for being so awkward. You hated how easily you could go from sarcastic to genuinely sorry in a second.

Hawks gave you an odd look, the smirk still there, though softer. “Hey, no worries. I get it.” He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but you could tell something about his tone had changed slightly. Maybe he was trying to lighten the mood too, like you were.

“No, I’m serious,” you quickly added, glancing up at him, feeling the need to apologize properly. “It’s just… I don’t know. I’ve been here long enough to see how people get caught up in all the… hero stuff. And I didn’t want to be another person acting all starry-eyed over you just because you’re a pro hero, you know?” God you sounded pathetic. Maybe if you prayed to all might really hard it would go away.

Hawks studied you for a second, then nodded slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment. “I get it. You don’t want to be one of those people who just worship the ground we fly on, huh?”

You sighed, relieved that he understood, but still uneasy. “Yeah... fly on. It’s just… this world, this universe… It’s all so… strange. I mean, I know you’re a big deal, and I respect that. But sometimes it’s hard to take things seriously when everything feels like it’s set in stone. To be so ‘MUCH’ all the time. Anyways I’m literally doing exactly what yours doing for a career so don’t take my words to heart. Heroes are kind of just people that help people and I’m like one or those people and by no means-” You paused, biting your lip.

There was an odd moment of silence before Hawks chuckled, and for a moment, you thought you might’ve said something ridiculous.

“You’re fine.” His tone was soft, genuine this time, as he took another step back, giving you space. “You’re not the first person to think I’m all ‘ego and feathers,’ but not everyone’s as honest about it as you are. So, props for that, I guess.” He tilted his head, his usual cocky grin returning, though it seemed more self-aware now. “But hey, if it helps, I do my best to keep my ego in check. It’s not as big as it looks.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond, but the words that came out were almost reflexive. “Well, you’re doing a pretty good job of hiding it, I guess. You’re going to be one of the top ten. I know it.”

Hawks laughed softly, the sound surprisingly genuine, and you found yourself relaxing a little. Maybe you hadn’t totally messed everything up. “You’re so sure about that? Well then fair enough. Just don’t expect me to give up my flashy style anytime soon. It’s a package deal.” He says that as if he doesn’t get In the top ten within a few months.

You could tell he wasn’t taking offense anymore, but you still felt like you needed to clear the air. “I mean, you’re doing your thing. I just—” You faltered, trying to find the right words, feeling like you were digging yourself into a hole. “I just didn’t want to be some random person making snide comments. You’re a pro hero, and I respect that.”

His eyes softened again, and there was an odd sincerity in his gaze. “Thanks. That means more than you know. You look about the same age as me so as you’re a pro as well, wouldn’t you know it you’ll be up there at the top, maybe we’ll have a hero rivalry” he smirks

“Ah yes the trials and tribulations of endeavour and all might persist in the bodies of 18 year old aspiring heroes” you pause for a moment thinking about it. You know that’s not too far from the original source material

“Well I’m not exactly a pro just yet, give me a few months and I’ll be there”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the awkwardness between you two slowly evaporating. It was strange, how you’d gone from a sarcastic comment to a brief but genuine moment of understanding. And yet, in a world where everything seemed so scripted, the fact that this had played out in such a way felt a little… surreal.

After a beat, Hawks stretched, giving you a wink. “Well, I should probably get going. Hero stuff, you know?” He shrugged, turning on his heel. “But hey, if you ever need a hand or just wanna throw some more sarcastic remarks my way, I’m not hard to find.”

You managed a small, half-smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He flashed you one last grin before taking off, his wings spreading wide as he took to the sky, disappearing into the distance. You watched him go, still feeling that odd mixture of guilt and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Shaking your head, you turned and continued on your way home, feeling slightly lighter, despite the awkwardness. At least you hadn’t ruined everything completely. But, then again, in a world like this, there was always something new to look forward to. Maybe you’d even see Hawks again and maybe next time, you’d be a little better at handling it.

Or, you’d at least try to be.

In this world, reports of people with superpowers started popping up everywhere. No one really knew what was causing these Quirks. And before long, the supernatural became the new normal. Dreams became reality, and the world turned into a superhuman society, with 80% of the population possessing some sort of strange ability.

Blah, blah, blah. The world might sound impressive at first, but being dropped into a world where you know everyone’s futures? That kind of ruins the excitement. Save the fun stuff for when Izuku is supposed to take over

You’d think living in a world of superheroes would be a dream come true, but it felt more like playing a life simulator with a DLC attached.

‘Actually if any one had heard that thought, please smite me dead on the spot’

Maybe when you finally met Shigaraki, you two could bond over how lame your lives were.

————

The moment Hawks took off, disappearing into the sky with all the grace and flair of a man who knew exactly how cool he was, you were left standing there, alone in the middle of a busy street. You blinked a few times, processing the bizarre encounter, like a glitch in the matrix where you’d just met one of the to be top heroes, and somehow managed to be the awkward, sarcastic mess you were known for.

Oh god, you thought, did I just make myself look like an idiot?

The awkwardness of the moment hit you all at once, like a ton of bricks. Your brain replayed every word you’d said, every overly dramatic sigh, and every time you’d made some weird comment about his ego. I probably just ruined any chance of ever having a normal conversation with him ever again, you thought with a groan.

But, hey, at least you’d gotten one thing right: you had no idea how to not embarrass yourself in front of a pro hero. Progress, right?

Your feet shuffled along the sidewalk, your eyes fixed on the ground, just in case anyone noticed how ridiculously flustered you were. You didn’t even know where you were going at this point, your legs had basically decided to take you home, but your brain was still stuck on the fact that you’d just made a snide remark to one of the most famous people in the world. That was bound to come back to haunt you, right?

In the midst of your spiraling, a thought hit you like a slap to the face: What if he tells people?

No, no, no, no. Hawks wasn’t the type to hold grudges. He’d probably just chuckle about it with his equally cool friends and forget about it. Right?

… what if he tells Mirko. All you feel is dread

But still, the mental image of him, sitting around with his hero buddies, casually telling them about the weird girl who got all awkward and snarky when she met him, was enough to make you want to curl up in a hole and disappear for the next decade. I’m never leaving my house again, you thought, hands buried in your pockets. It’s safer this way.

As you trudged home, you passed by the same old buildings, the same street vendors, the same couple having a heated debate about the proper way to cook curry (which, honestly, you were kind of invested in now). It was the same old world. But now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were living in some kind of sitcom where you were the awkward side character. This is what I get for getting tossed into this universe, you thought, rolling your eyes at the universe itself. And why am I still here? Shouldn’t I be a sidekick by now?

You eventually reached your apartment building, doing your best to ignore the fact that you’d just been face-to-face with Hawks and didn’t manage to do anything remotely cool or competent. The elevator ride felt longer than it should’ve. It was like the universe itself was giving you a moment to reflect on your life choices. By the time you reached your door, you felt like you needed to apologize to the doorframe for even existing.

With a dramatic sigh, you kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the couch. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if you should’ve just said something normal like, “Hey, cool wings.” That’s it. Cool wings… nope absolutely not, move on, but no, you had to act like a nervous wreck who couldn’t even handle basic social interaction. Congratulations, you’re a disaster.

But as your mind started spiraling into self-loathing, you couldn’t help but chuckle a little. The whole situation had been so ridiculous, so out of place, that it was actually kind of funny. You’d just had a conversation with Hawks granted, it was a weird, awkward, almost cringeworthy conversation but still, a conversation! That was more than most people could say.

“Maybe I should just call it a day. Hide under the covers and pretend nothing happened.”

You threw your arms dramatically across your face as if the weight of your shame was too much to bear, but in the back of your mind, a tiny thought crept in: Hey, if I run into him again, maybe I won’t make a fool of myself next time.

Then again, you thought with a grin, Probably not.

At least tomorrow’s a new day, right? You could try to be normal then probably. Or at the very least, you could give yourself a good pep talk, like, “You got this, champ. Try not to make an idiot of yourself this time.”

As you lay there, wallowing in your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Because, in the end, this was just another bizarre chapter in your weird, barely-coherent life in the world of heroes. Maybe next time, you’d at least try to make a good first impression. Or maybe, just maybe, you’d accidentally land on your feet and make it out of another embarrassing moment unscathed.

Who knew? Anything was possible in this crazy universe. Well, except you being smooth. That was clearly out of the question.

————

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and as your classmates hurriedly packed their bags and ran out the door, you sat there, contemplating your life choices. Graduation was right around the corner, and while everyone else was excited about the future, you were just kind of… existing.

You were in your third year at UA, the very school that trained the next generation of Pro Heroes. But here you were, staring at your desk like it owed you money, with no idea what you were supposed to do next.

Let’s be real, everyone else had a purpose. Izuku? He was going to be the greatest hero of all time. All Might? He was the symbol of peace, the beacon of hope, and probably the only guy who could do a cartwheel and not look like a dad on a trampoline. Even Bakugo had a clear goal in mind: to be the best, which, considering his attitude, was more like a “do it or I’ll yell at you until you cry” kind of vibe.

But you? You were just here. You weren’t supposed to be in this world. Seriously, how did you even get here? One minute you were living your normal life, and the next you’re dropped into the middle of a world full of heroes, quirks, and crazy villains, but there’s no manual for how to fit in. It was like being cast in the world’s weirdest TV show and being told, “Yeah, just figure it out, you’ll be fine.”

And you were so fine. So fine, in fact, that you didn’t even know what the point of it all was. You had no grand dreams of becoming the next All Might or Deku. You weren’t even sure what your quirk was half the time, maybe you had an ability to be totally average? If so, congratulations, you were really nailing it.

“Look, you’re fine, you’re fine,” you muttered to yourself, giving the window a dramatic look. “You’ll graduate, become a hero, maybe stand by the snacks table at hero events, get a cool costume, the usual.”

You sighed, staring at the city below. Your classmates had their lives all planned out, while you had absolutely no clue what was happening. “Like, how do you even become a hero if you’re not, like, destined for greatness?” You asked, though you were fully aware the universe wasn’t going to answer. Or if it did, it would probably just laugh and say, “Sorry, you’re just here for filler content.”

You turned to the empty classroom, contemplating your entire existence for a moment. “Man, is this what it’s like to be a side character? ’Cause I really didn’t sign up for this. I was just trying to live my best life, and suddenly I’m here, trying to figure out if I should be saving kittens from trees or passing out flyers for charity events.”

A laugh bubbled out of you. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be that hero, the one who’s really good at handing out pamphlets at superhero conventions. You know, hero stuff. The job that’s always available but no one really talks about.”

You let out a half-hearted groan. “Ugh, I’m like a glorified intern in the superhero world. ‘Oh, sorry, your quirk is literally just being chill? Guess you’ll be a sidekick to the sidekicks!’”

But then it hit you: maybe that’s fine. Not every hero needs to be the big shot. Maybe your purpose was to just… exist. No huge fanfare, no dramatic showdowns with villains, just a random person who shows up at the right time to, like, hand out snacks or prevent a minor inconvenience. You could totally be that person! There’s a whole squad of heroes out there who are doing important stuff without anyone caring about them.

You snapped your fingers. “Wait a minute. Maybe this is my calling! I’ll be ‘The Human Buffer’. I’ll help all the heroes hand out protein bars, hold their coats while they go into battle, be that one person who’s just there to make sure they look good in their hero pose. Yeah, I could be that hero!”

You stood up, grabbed your bag, and strutted out of the classroom with newfound confidence. You might not have a big, world-saving destiny, but you would be the hero who was always there with the perfect snack after a long day of saving people. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was a role that needed to be filled, and by golly, you were going to do it.

“Alright, world,” you said dramatically as you walked down the hallway. “You don’t need me to save the day, but I’ll be here when you need someone to tell you where the bathroom is during a fight. Hero work!”

As you passed your classmates, all talking about their big future plans, you couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe you weren’t meant to be the hero everyone else was, but you were still going to make your mark. Whether they needed an emotional support snack or someone to bring them a towel after they worked up a sweat, you’d be there.

And hey, you’d probably get a cool title too: The Most Average, Most Helpful Hero.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like the idea of being a hero. Who wouldn’t want to swoop in and save the day, right? But the thing was, you didn’t belong here. You didn’t have that spark that made someone destined to be a hero. You weren’t meant to exist in this world. You were more like an accidental extra, someone who wasn’t supposed to show up on the hero timeline but somehow did. And now you were just… waiting for your scene to end.

It wasn’t that you didn’t respect heroes, of course, you did! But watching everyone around you with their grand dreams and bright futures made you feel a bit like the odd one out. Even if you’re living in a year with just side characters. They had their roles, their destinies. Meanwhile, you were stuck in a universe where things were already set in stone. It was like showing up to a concert that was already halfway over and realizing you’re just gonna have to sit in the nosebleeds for the rest of the show.

Keigo had mentioned once that it was important for heroes to ease the worries of the people. Isn’t it paradoxical that his future words are the ones giving you a path. That they had to be more than just strong, they had to make people feel safe. And you’d never had any doubts about that philosophy. But how could you be that person when you didn’t even feel like you were supposed to be here in the first place? It felt like playing a game you didn’t know the rules to, in a world that wasn’t yours.

Sure, you were about to graduate from UA and technically become a Pro Hero, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were sort of stepping into a role that didn’t really have anything to do with you. You had no grand dreams of fighting side-by-side with All Might in his final battle. There were so any many risks and what if a simple butterfly effect made the villains win by you being here. Honestly, you’d probably end up being the hero who handed out flyers for charity events or stood at the front of the line for photos to be safe. Was that the kind of hero you wanted to be?

“Well, I guess I’ll be a hero of some kind,” you muttered, though it was more out of obligation than excitement. “But what does it even mean if I don’t have some grand purpose in all this?”

A little chuckle escaped your lips. This was ridiculous. Here you were, stressing over your place in a world that was literally made up. You were a character in a story that already had its plot laid out, and yet you were still acting like you had to be a main character. It was all just so absurd.

But you didn’t want to be that person someone who just complained about fate and waited for something to happen. You could still make a difference in small ways, right? Maybe not as the next All Might or Deku, but as someone who showed up when it mattered, who helped out in their own way. The world was full of side characters doing small but important things, why couldn’t you be one of them?

With a grin, you stood up and grabbed your bag, heading out of the classroom to join the rest of your classmates. Maybe you weren’t the protagonist of this story, but hey, you could still make your mark on it. A little self-awareness never hurt anyone, right? Besides, in a world full of heroes, sometimes it was enough just to be one even if you were doing it a little differently than everyone else.

Dabi x Reader | Hawks x Reader

°❀.ೃ࿔ Knowing how to Find Them °❀.ೃ࿔

teehee i have issues… my other works - masterlist

synopsis: Between hero catcalling, banter, and some very suspicious shoulder to shoulder proximity, one thing is clear: Y/n otherwise known as pro hero Lumine has a type, and it’s problematic.

you let the cool night air settle over your skin as you gazed at the city below. The hum of neon lights, the distant chatter of people, the occasional wail of sirens, it was all background noise to the quiet moment you had carved out for yourself. Well, semi quiet. Dabi stood a few feet away, leaning against the rusted railing, cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers. The soft glow of the embers flickered against his scarred skin, casting sharp shadows across his features. He exhaled a slow curl of smoke, blue eyes watching you through the haze, unreadable.

He was close enough that you could feel the occasional brush of his presence, subtle things. The way his arm ghosted yours when he shifted, how his voice dipped just a little lower when he spoke, like this was some shared secret neither of you were acknowledging.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Dabi murmured, flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette. “That big hero life finally breaking you down?”

You huffed a soft laugh, tilting your head. “Nah. Just enjoying the moment. Kinda nice when you’re not actively trying to burn me alive.” Dabi smirked, amused. “Give it time.”

Before you could shoot back a reply, movement in the sky caught your attention a blur of crimson and gold slicing through the night, wings illuminated by city lights. With a wicked grin, you cupped your hands around your mouth and called out, “Damn, Hawks! Lookin’ good up there! Show me what those wings can do, baby!”

Hawks, mid flight, visibly stuttered in the air. His wings faltered for half a second before he caught himself, twisting in your direction. Even from here, you could see the slow smirk pulling at his lips.The moment the words left your mouth, With a flick of his fingers, one of his feathers shot toward you. fast, but not actually meant to hit. It whizzed past your face, stirring your hair before circling back to him.

“Lumine, you flirt!” he called out, amusement lacing his voice as he swooped lower. “Calling for me from the rooftops now?” he called back, voice dripping with amusement. With an effortless flick of his wings, he shot downward, landing in a graceful crouch before standing to his full height. He tucked his feathers in smoothly, golden eyes locking onto yours first then, slowly, sliding to Dabi.

And just like that, the amusement in his expression cooled.

“…Okay.” Hawks’ posture shifted, subtle but there his wings twitching slightly, muscles tightening just enough to be noticeable. His sharp gaze flickered back to you, his smile still in place but lighter now, more calculated. “So. Why are you hanging out with this guy?”

Dabi, who had been watching this entire exchange with an expression of increasing boredom, let out an exaggerated groan. “Oh, great. The chicken landed.”

Hawks ignored him completely, his focus still locked on you. His voice was light, casual, but his eyes? His eyes were searching tracking, assessing.

“hmmm it really is a nice night,” he pointed out, head tilting slightly. “you’re not fraternizing with the enemy now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Bird Boy. I’m just hanging out.”

“…With him?”

“Yup.”

Hawks let out a slow breath through his nose, like he was trying to process that without reacting. Then, as if deciding to take another approach, he took a single step closer, his shoulder nearly brushing yours. “Y’know,” he mused, voice dipping into something smoother, more coaxing, “you could’ve called me if you wanted company. I would’ve been here in seconds. Way better company, too.”

Dabi let out a scoff, unimpressed. “Wow, subtle. Real smooth.”

Hawks shot him a side glance, then turned back to you, golden eyes half lidded, lazy with amusement. “What, I’m not allowed to be worried about my favorite pro hero?” His voice softened slightly, just enough that it felt personal, like he was directing it just to you. “Seriously, Lumine. What’s the deal?”

Dabi shifted beside you, taking another slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a way that almost curled toward you before dissipating. You felt the faintest brush of his fingers against the back of your hand so fleeting it could’ve been mistaken for nothing at all. “You really need to raise your standards,” Dabi muttered.

You arched a brow at him. “i’m not sure if you’re any better”

Dabi shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Hawks let out a slow chuckle, running a gloved hand through his windswept hair. “Wow, that’s crazy. Exact same thing I was about to say.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “You guys are exhausting.”

Hawks leaned in just slightly, voice dropping low enough that Dabi wouldn’t hear it over the city noise. “You good?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. His eyes weren’t just sharp now they were searching, careful, like he was looking for something beneath the surface. It wasn’t teasing anymore. It wasn’t playful. He was checking in. The corner of your mouth twitched up, but you kept your voice casual. “I’m fine, Kei.”

Hawks held your gaze for a beat longer, then exhaled, his easygoing smirk slipping back into place. “If you say so.”

Dabi watched the exchange with a blank expression before finally tossing his cigarette to the side, crushing it under his boot. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ve hit my quota for annoying hero interactions tonight.” He stretched, rolling his shoulders before glancing down at you. Then, in the most casual, unbothered way possible, he reached out, fingers briefly ghosting over your wrist before stuffing his hands into his pockets. Just enough contact to be noticed. Just enough to linger.

Hawks’ wings flared, just slightly. Dabi smirked looking at his reaction. “Try not to let Bird Brain here talk your ear off.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows as easily as he’d arrived. Hawks let out a slow exhale, dragging a hand down his face. “You really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

You grinned. “That’s how i got to know you”

Hawks just shook his head, eyes flickering to where Dabi had vanished. And then, almost too quiet to hear. “…Don’t let him pull you under, Y/n.”

watching as Dabi left, his sharp eyes lingering on the spot for a moment longer than necessary. His wings twitched slightly, a small, restless movement, before he finally turned his attention back to you. You could see it in his face he wasn’t just brushing this off. The usual playful glint in his eyes had dulled, replaced by something softer. More serious.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y/n…”

That alone was enough to make you pause. He rarely said your name like that. like it was weighted, like he was choosing his words carefully. He took a step closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You raised a brow. “Uh, we were just hanging out? You act like I got caught committing a crime.”

Hawks frowned, his golden eyes scanning your face, searching. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” His voice was quieter now, almost gentle. “Why are you hanging out with Dabi?”

You exhaled through your nose, leaning against the ledge. “I dunno, Kei. It’s not that deep. I just… got used to him, I guess. We cross paths a lot, and sometimes, I don’t feel like fighting. So we talk.”

Hawks didn’t look convinced. He stepped even closer, his warmth pressing against your side. “He’s dangerous, Lumine. And I know you can handle yourself. hell, you’re stronger than half the heroes I know but that’s not the point.”

There was something about the way he said it, the way his voice softened at the edges, that made your chest tighten just a little. You forced a smirk, bumping your shoulder against his. “What, you worried about me?”

Hawks didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached out and flicked a loose strand of hair away from your face, his gloved fingers barely grazing your skin. His touch was light, fleeting, but it left warmth in its wake.

“Of course, I’m worried about you, dumbass,” he muttered, his brows furrowing. “You matter to me, okay? And I know you. when you let people hang around, there’s always a reason. So, what’s the reason?”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Hawks was always teasing, always throwing out quick witted remarks and playful jabs. You looked away, focusing on the city lights instead of the concern in his eyes. “I don’t know,” you admitted after a pause. “I guess… I see something in him.”

Hawks’ wings drooped slightly. “Y/n—”

“Not like that,” you sighed. “I know he’s a villain. I know he’s done terrible things. But sometimes, when he’s not being, y’know, Dabi. he’s just some guy who’s been hurt one too many times. And I don’t think he ever really had someone in his corner.”

Hawks’ lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t look angry, just… sad. Like he understood exactly what you meant, and that only made this worse. After a long silence, he huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You always do this,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Always finding strays.”

You smirked. “You say that like I didn’t find you first.”

Hawks let out a soft chuckle, tilting his head. “Yeah, but I’m a catch.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly, and this time he actually laughed. But the concern never fully left his face. “Just… promise me something,” he said, his voice quieter again. “Be careful. I don’t want to lose you to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you played it off with a grin. “Damn, Hawks. If I didn’t know better, i’d say you were in love with me”

He clicked his tongue, stepping back with a smirk, but his wings stretched slightly like he was reluctant to leave. “Tch, don’t get cocky.” But then his expression softened again, his golden eyes warm as they met yours. “…Just don’t make me worry, okay?”

You gave him a lazy salute. “No promises.”

Hawks let out a long suffering sigh, but he smiled anyway. “You’re the worst.”

he took off into the sky, leaving you alone with nothing but the fading sound of flapping wings and the lingering warmth of his touch. He had been gone for a while now, but you could still hear his voice in your head.

“Just don’t make me worry, okay?”

You sighed, resting your elbows on the ledge, staring out at the skyline.

“You’re brooding.”

You didn’t flinch at the voice, just smirked to yourself. “Didn’t know you were still lurking.”

Dabi strolled up beside you, hands shoved into his pockets, the faint smell of smoke and ash clinging to him. “Didn’t know you’d still be here,” he shot back, mimicking your tone. His voice was that usual mix of amusement and disinterest, but the fact that he hadn’t just left after Hawks showed up said enough.

You exhaled through your nose. “Guess we both like rooftops.”

Dabi snorted. “Guess so.”

Dabi watched you for a moment, his smirk still in place but his expression a little softer now. He leaned in slightly, closing that small space between your shoulders just enough to make it noticeable.

Finally, he spoke. “So. You and Bird Brain, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “If one more person says that”

Dabi smirked, exhaling a slow curl of smoke. “Relax, Y/n or should I say Lumine since we’re supposed to be enemies,” he drawled, stretching out your name like it was a tease. “Just saying, he sure seemed invested in whatever this is.”

You scoffed. “He’s nosy.”

Dabi chuckled. “Oh, I know that. But he’s also jealous.”

You turned to him with a deadpan stare. “Really?”

He shrugged, smirk still in place. “Yeah. But I get it. I’d be jealous too if I had to watch someone else get all your time.”

That one caught you off guard. You blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. “Dabi”

He cut you off with a lazy wave of his hand. “Relaxxxx, I ain’t about to start writing love letters or anything. Just making an observation.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Right. Sure.”

He leaned in slightly, just enough that his shoulder did brush against yours this time. “I do have to give you credit, though. Takes guts to flirt with the guy who’s actively trying to arrest me.”

“Hey,” you defended, “he’s my friend”

Dabi snorted. “Yeah, yeah, I noticed.” He tapped his fingers against the ledge, then glanced at you. His smirk softened just slightly, like he was debating whether to say something. After a beat, he nudged you lightly with his elbow. “You know, if Bird Brain ever gets too annoying, I do have ways to make him shut up.”

You raised a brow. “By setting him on fire?”

“Exactly.”

You snickered, nudging him back. “Yeah, let’s not.”

He hummed in response, then tilted his head toward you, blue eyes glinting. “You sticking around, or what?” You considered it. Hawks would definitely have a few choice words for you if he found out you spent even more time with Dabi tonight. But, you weren’t in a rush to leave. For a villain he always felt like a hero to you.

You shrugged. “Guess I am.”

Dabi let out a mock sigh. “Tch. Guess I’ll allow it.”

You shot him a grin. “How generous.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. The city hummed below you, but up here, it was just the two of you, shoulders barely brushing, the night stretching on ahead.

You: no, YOU'RE looking at him respectfully. i'm objectifying him to filth we're built different

Dabi: *so unbelievably disgusted*

love

Present Mic | Hizashi Yamada X Reader

⋆˚✿˖° Mid Life Crisis ⋆˚✿˖°

I want to become tumblr’s token Present mic fanfic writer. I LOVE THAT MAN LIKE NOBODY CAN!!! One person in my DMs had me going back to my drafts immediately

masterlist

he’s never peaked and he will never peak because he’s perfect and amazing.

Hizashi’s house was huge. It didn’t look it from the outside, but once you stepped in, it was like a shrine to rock and roll. Posters of legendary bands covered the walls, electric guitars hung all across the rooms, and vinyl records stacked in neat rows lined the shelves. It was so him,loud in personality but meticulously cared for.

You were getting ready in his bedroom, standing in front of his full length mirror, adjusting the tight dress that hugged all the right places. It wasn’t anything too much, but it was enough to turn heads, and you were already excited for the one person that you cared about to see you.

“Alright, babe, you ready to-” His voice cut off as soon as he stepped in. You smirked at him through the mirror. He had his hair tied up in a bun, a simple button up and vest combo making him look effortlessly cool. But that wasn’t the fun part, the fun part was the way he was staring. “-go?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Oh? Something wrong, Yamada?” you teased, turning to face him fully, giving a little spin. “Too much?”

Hizashi blinked, his mouth slightly open, then shook his head violently. “Nope! Nope, not at all! In fact, I, wow, okay, I love my life.”

You laughed, stepping closer, running a hand down his vest. “You clean up nice yourself. That handsome face of yours, I’m gonna have to fight off the others tonight.”

“Me? Babe, me? I need to be concerned about you!” He pointed an exaggerated, accusing finger at you. “Do you see yourself? You’re illegal. You should be arrested for—wait, no, that sounds weird—uh, I should be arrested for—uh—”

You snorted as he tripped over his words, his usual confident, loud persona cracking in real time. Adorable. “So you like it?” you hummed, tilting your head.

“Like is an understatement, sweetheart. You are out here committing crimes against my heart, and I ain’t even mad about it.” He held you close, staring at you, or rather looking right in your eyes. “I’m simping so hard right now, I swear.”

You grinned, stepping even closer, hands resting on his chest now. “I should not had let the class teach you that word….Then should we even go to the party? Or should I just let you keep simping all night?

Hizashi groaned, throwing his head back. “Babe, don’t tempt me. The only thing keeping me from locking this door and worshipping the ground you walk on is that I know if we don’t show up, Aizawa is going to kill me if I leave him alone.”

You pouted dramatically. “Ugh, fine. But you better keep this same energy the whole night.” He leaned down, lips just barely brushing against yours before he grinned. “Oh, sweetheart, you know me”

—-

Hizashi didn’t let up. Not at all. Not when you were walking through the front doors of the party, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as if staking his claim which, considering the amount of attention you were getting in that dress, was completely intentional.

the loud, confident, sometimes utterly ridiculous man who never seemed to run out of energy. And you, the calm (most of the time), equally confident pro who somehow managed to keep up with his antics. People talked about your relationship all the time. The age gap, the differences in energy, how did this even happen? conversations. But the truth, You were stupid for each other.

It wasn’t just the attraction, though damn if that wasn’t strong. It was the fact that no matter how much Hizashi turned a room into his stage, his eyes always found you first. The fact that, even after a long day, when he should’ve been crashing, he’d still pull you into his arms and hum softly, running his hands through your hair as you talked about your day. The fact that for all his confidence, you were the one who made him speechless. on the flip side? He was your biggest hype man. Always in your corner, always reminding you just how much of a badass you were. You might be a top 10 pro, but he made sure you felt like one, even on the days when you didn’t.

——

The party was in full swing, music blaring, drinks flowing, and pros of all ranks finally letting loose for once. It was rare to get a night like this, where no one had to worry about saving the world, so you were damn well going to enjoy it. You were on the dance floor with Hawks and Mirko, and it was all over the place.

Mirko was hyping you up like crazy, clapping and whistling every time you so much as moved, while Hawks, ever the showman, had decided he was going to out dance everyone. including you.

“Alright, alright,” you laughed, pointing at Hawks as he spun dramatically. “You do realize you’re the only one trying, right?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back, flipping his bangs out of his eyes. “This is all done in a super nonchalant way. You’re just mad, you can’t keep up!”

That earned a sharp laugh from Mirko, who immediately joined in. “Yeah, no way I’m letting that slide. Get his ass.”

And so the battle began. At some point, it stopped being about looking good and turned into pure nonsense. Argyably it never looked good. Hawks attempting breakdancing moves he had no business trying, Mirko throwing in kicks just because? and you? You just let loose, moving however you wanted, laughing so hard your sides hurt. Some of the other pros were watching, some cheering, some just shaking their heads at the spectacle. Midnight had walked by at one point, smirking knowingly. “Well, aren’t you three the life of the party?”

“Damn right we are!” Hawks shot back, striking a pose.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Hizashi was not moving at all. He and Aizawa had claimed one of the couches, and while the party raged around them, they were just chilling. Hizashi had one arm draped over the back of the couch, his drink in hand, his usual grin plastered on his face. He was vibing, content just being there, occasionally chatting with Aizawa between pros walking past and greeting them.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was doing what he did best sitting in silence, eyes half lidded, drink untouched.

“She’s having fun,” Aizawa eventually said, nodding towards you on the dance floor. Hizashi followed his gaze, his grin softening a bit when he spotted you. Even in a crowd, even with people surrounding you, his eyes always found you first.

“Yeah,” he said, voice just a little too fond. “She looks real good, too.”

Aizawa sighed. “You’re so lame.”

Hizashi cackled. “Oh, you have no idea, man.”

Hizashi leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out as he sipped his drink. The bass from the speakers vibrated through the room, but he was content just sitting there, people watching with Aizawa. It was a rare break from the chaos of pro hero life, and even if the night was loud, it was nice. Aizawa, meanwhile, sat like he always did hunched, arms crossed, looking like he was two seconds away from dipping. Hizashi wasn’t fooled, though. The fact that Aizawa hadn’t actually left yet meant he didn’t hate it too much.

“Hard to believe we get to do this now, huh?” Hizashi mused, watching as a few lower ranked pros passed by, nodding respectfully in their direction. Some were fresh faces, new names climbing the ranks, and it reminded him just how much things had changed.

Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Feels weird. Feels like we should be doing something else. Something useful.” Hizashi snorted. “You are doing something useful relaxing.”

Aizawa gave him a look. “That’s your definition of useful?”

“Damn right it is!” Hizashi gestured dramatically around the room. “Look at everyone! They’re all taking a break, lettin’ loose, remembering they’re people and not just walking disaster response units. You think we don’t deserve this?”

Aizawa hesitated, his expression unreadable. Hizashi knew where his mind was going before he even had to say it. The sheer amount of loss they’d all seen, the students, the fellow heroes, the weight of the world on their shoulders. It was hard to sit back and have a good time when the job never really stopped.

Before Aizawa could spiral too deep, a familiar voice cut through the moment. “Wow, look at you two, I dont know if you guys know how a party works”

Hizashi looked up to see Snipe passing by, arms crossed, the usual deep-set frown on his face. Beside him, Power loader, now slightly sweaty from dancing, grinned at the sight of them.

“Don’t be jealous, old man,” Hizashi shot back. “Not everyone can handle this level of zen!”

Snipe just smiles and walked away. Power Loader, however, laughed and clapped Hizashi on the shoulder before following.

“Man, with the amount of pros here I feel there's a problem bound to happen,” Aizawa muttered. Before Hizashi could respond, another familiar presence approached, Kamui Woods and Mt. Lady.

“Yamada,” Kamui greeted with a nod.

“Hizashi,” Mt. Lady added, her gaze flickering over to Aizawa. “And… the usual grump.” Aizawa just sighed.

“You two taking it easy, huh?” Kamui asked.

“Someone’s gotta hold down the couches,” Hizashi joked.

Mt. Lady smirked. “You sure you’re not just getting old?”

“Ouch!” Hizashi smiled. “whats up with the hate for relaxing at parties?”

She just laughed as she and Kamui walked off, leaving Hizashi shaking his head. Aizawa took another sip of his drink before finally speaking. “You are getting old, though.”

“Excuse me?”

Aizawa gave him a sideways glance, eyes just barely amused. “You’re 30, dating a 22 year old, wearing your hair in a bun, talking about how much things have changed, face it, you’re having a mid life crisis.”

Hizashi gasped like he’d just been personally attacked which he kinda did. “How dare you.”

Aizawa shrugged. “Just calling it like I see it.”

Hizashi shook his head, sighing dramatically. “And here I was, thinking I could count on my best friend to support me.”

“I am supporting you,” Aizawa said, smirking slightly. “I just think it’s funny.”

“You’re so lucky I love you, man,” Hizashi grumbled, finishing off his drink.

Aizawa hummed. “Lucky is one way to put it.”

Hizashi wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t insecure, either. He was loud, confident, and damn well knew what he brought to the table. But the age thing? Yeah. That always made him think. He knew Aizawa had just been messing with him, it was what they did, their whole friendship built on dry humor and good natured jabs. But now, sitting there, watching the party move around him, the thought wouldn’t leave his head.

He was 30. You were 22.

Eight years wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t like he was some old man, but still sometimes, it made him wonder.

You were young, in your prime, one of the best heroes out there. You had the world at your feet. And sure, he was at some point in the top 10, too, still full of energy, but there were moments like this one where he felt older. Not in a way that made him doubt himself, but in a way that made him wonder if you’d ever look back and think… damn, I should’ve picked someone my own age.

He hated thinking like that. It was dumb. You were with him. You chose him, over and over again. But it didn’t change the fact that every now and then, the thought crept in. Maybe it was because he loved you so much. Like, a stupid amount. Enough that he wanted to make sure you never regretted choosing him. Enough that he caught himself worrying about things he’d normally laugh off.

Maybe that’s what a mid-life crisis really was. Not the bun, not the nostalgia, not the way Aizawa poked fun. It was realizing you had something so good, and you’d do anything to keep it. He let out a slow breath, rubbing his thumb over the rim of his glass. Aizawa, ever perceptive even when half asleep, glanced at him. “You actually thinking about it?”

Hizashi snorted, shaking his head. “Nah. Just… y’know.”

Aizawa hummed. “You know she loves you, right?”

That made Hizashi pause. It wasn’t like Aizawa to say stuff like that outright.

Hizashi chuckled, leaning back again, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah. I know.”

And he did. He just had to remind himself sometimes.

——

The music was still pounding, the lights flashing in a dizzying rhythm as you moved with Hawks and Mirko. The three of you had long given up on anything resembling actual dancing. it was just pure fun now. Hawks was still determined to outshine everyone, while Mirko hyped up literally everything you did, laughing wildly every time one of you spun too fast or almost tripped.

Maybe you’d had a little too much to drink. You weren’t drunk, just… happy. A little lightheaded, a little more free. Enough that the world felt warmer, easier, like nothing could touch you in this moment. Or you were drunk. hussssh now

And then, between the spinning lights and the blur of movement, your eyes landed on him. Hizashi was still on the couch, still grinning, still talking with Aizawa, but… something felt off. Maybe it was the slight shift in his posture, or the way his usual energy seemed just a little muted.

You didn’t think. One second, you were dancing. The next, you were running. Well, stumbling, really. Mirko shouted something, probably encouragement. Hawks called after you, definitely something teasing. But you didn’t stop. You just launched yourself forward, nearly crashing into Hizashi’s side as you practically tackled him in a hug.

“WHOA!” Hizashi barely had time to react before you were on him, arms wrapped around his torso, your body half in his lap as you buried your face against his vest.

“Heyyyyy,” you mumbled, grinning up at him.

Hizashi blinked, caught somewhere between startled and entirely smitten. Then, as if on instinct, he wrapped his arms around you, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Babe, you good?”

“Mmmhmm.” You nuzzled closer, tightening your hold. “Just wanted to be near you.”

Aizawa, still sitting beside him, gave you both the most unimpressed look before sighing. “I’m leaving.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hizashi waved him off, though his eyes never left you. “Love you too, bro.”

Aizawa just grunted, standing up and disappearing into the crowd. Hizashi, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, letting his chin rest against the top of your head. “Didn’t know I was makin’ a face to call you over.”

“You weren’t,” you murmured. “But I know you.”

Hizashi’s arms tightened around you. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just held you there, warm and solid, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. Then, with a soft laugh, he murmured, “Im so lucky I love you.”

“Mmhmm.” You grinned. “I love you.”

You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, still grinning, still feeling weightless from the drinks and the music and him. Hizashi’s golden eyes flickered with warmth, soft under the dim party lights. He was still holding you close, one arm securely around your waist, the other resting lazily along the back of the couch.

You just stared at him, a slow, happy smile spreading across your lips.

He raised a brow, smirking slightly. “What’re you lookin’ at, silly girl?”

Your smile widened. “Just you.”

Hizashi’s grip on you tightened, his smirk faltering for half a second before he chuckled low and fond and a little breathless. “Damn,” he murmured, shaking his head. “You tryna kill me tonight?”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Maaaybe.”

He laughed, the sound softer than usual, quieter, meant just for you. His fingers curled slightly against your waist, absentmindedly tracing circles through the fabric of your dress.

“Y’know,” he mused, eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, “if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I might just have to kiss ya right here, in front of everyone.”

You grinned, tilting your chin up just slightly. “Then do it.”

Hizashi inhaled sharply, his eyes darkening for half a second, like you’d really just tested him. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he flopped back against the couch, “You’re so cute,” he teased, “so reckless, throwin’ my heart around like it’s not already yours.”

You giggled, resting your forehead against his. “Oops.” He let out another laugh, softer this time, before pressing a quick, firm kiss to your temple. “C’mon, babe.” His voice was warm, teasing, but genuine. “Let’s get you some water before you start tryin’ to propose to me or somethin’.”

You gasped even louder, dramatically placing a hand over your heart like he had just offended you. “How dare you, Mic?”

His grin widened. “I knew it—”

But before he could finish, you grabbed his hand, holding it tightly between both of yours as you sat up on your knees beside him. “Hizashi Yamada,” you began, voice full of drunken conviction.

“Oh my god,” he wheezed, eyes widening.

“You are the loudest, most ridiculous, most obnoxiously handsome man I have ever met,” you declared, staring deeply into his golden eyes. “You make me laugh, you make me smile, and you make me feel like the luckiest person alive.”

Hizashi covered his mouth with his free hand, shoulders shaking with laughter. “Babe—”

“Shhh,” you hushed him by placing a hand on his face. then squeezing his fingers. “Let me finish.”

At this point, some of the nearby pros had started noticing. Mirko was doubled over dying in the background, Hawks was crying laughing, and even a few others had turned their heads, realizing that something was going down.

“So,” you continued, lifting his hand like you were about to slip a ring on it, “Hizashi Yamada, my dear, sweet rockstar of a boyfriend… will you—”

Hizashi lunged, scooping you up in his arms and pulling you into his lap before you could even finish. “NOPE,” he shouted, grinning wildly as you giggled hysterically. “We are NOT doin’ this in front of everybody, sweetheart!”

“But I’m serious!” you cackled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m so serious!”

Hizashi groaned, dramatically letting his forehead fall against your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Soooo… is that a yes?”

He pulled back, looked at you with the softest smile, and leaned in close, his lips barely brushing your ear as he murmured, “Ask me again when you’re sober, babe.”*

Hizashi had always known he loved you. That wasn’t new. It wasn’t some grand realization that hit him all at once it was something steady, something constant, like a favorite song playing on loop in the background of his life.

But sometimes like right now it hit him differently. You hadn’t asked what was wrong. You hadn’t pried or tried to dig into his thoughts. You’d just looked at him, noticed the way his energy had faltered for even a second, and decided that was all you needed to know.

You had run to him… well crashed into his side, curled up against him like he was the only thing that mattered in a room full of pros. You weren’t trying to fix anything, weren’t offering reassurances you didn’t even know he needed. You were just there. Holding him, looking at him like he was still the coolest guy in the room, like he was still your favorite person.

And damn if that didn’t make his chest feel too tight in the best possible way. Hizashi had spent years making other people feel seen, heard, important. That was just who he was. But you? You did that for him.

Without even trying.

And he wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve that, to deserve you, but hell. he’d take it. He’d take every drunk proposal, every chaotic moment, every time you looked at him like he mattered more than the number next to his name on the hero charts.

You held his hand so tightly, no hesitation, no doubt, like letting go wasn’t even an option to you.

And as he scooped you up into his lap to stop you from dramatically proposing in front of everyone, as you giggled against him, as he told you to ask again when you were sober he knew.

Hizashi Yamada, ranked 42, loudest hero in the country, knew. If you ever did ask him again… His answer would always be yes.

—-

The second Hizashi unlocked the front door, you beelined for the couch. Well “beelined” was a strong word. It was more of a zigzagging, slightly uncoordinated stumble, courtesy of the drinks still making everything feel just a little too floaty.

“Babe” Hizashi barely had time to react before

THUMP.

You face planted directly onto the couch, limbs sprawled, dress slightly askew, completely motionless. Silence.

“Oh my god,” Hizashi wheezed, kicking the door shut behind him as laughter exploded out of him. “You good?!”

Your muffled voice came from somewhere in the couch cushions. “I live here now.”

Hizashi wiped a hand down his face, shaking his head, still grinning like an idiot. “Nah, babe, you gotta move. we gotta get you to bed.”

You dramatically threw an arm over your face. “Not anymore. This couch and I are one.”

“suuuuure.” He snorted, walking over and kneeling beside you, hands warm as he gently rubbed your back. “You are so lucky you’re cute.”

You peeked out from under your arm, giving him a lazy, loopy grin. “I knooow.”

Hizashi chuckled, then leaned in, brushing a kiss against your temple. “C’mon, superstar,” he murmured. “Let’s get you outta this dress and into somethin’ comfy before you actually pass out here.”*

You hummed thoughtfully. “Counteroffer: carry me.”

Hizashi groaned dramatically, already slipping his arms under you. “You are the most spoiled human alive”

“And yet, you love me.”

He sighed, lifting you effortlessly into his arms, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, yeah. I really, really do.”*

As Hizashi carried you toward the bedroom, you let your head rest on his shoulder, gazing at the familiar surroundings. You’d always technically had your own place, your own space to retreat to. A sleek apartment in the heart of the city, stylish and practical. It had everything you needed, an expansive living room, a kitchen with all the gadgets, and a spacious bedroom with a view of the skyline.

But lately? You hadn’t spent much time there. You’d find yourself opting for Hizashi’s place more and more. His house was different from yours, messy in the best way, with guitars propped up against the walls and posters of old school rock bands plastered on every inch of the space. It wasn’t as polished or clean as your apartment, but that was part of its charm. The clutter felt lived in, real. Every inch of his place had his touch on it, and somehow, it felt like home in a way your apartment never quite did.

Even the sounds of the house were different, his music blaring from speakers, his laughter filling the air in a way your space had never known. And then there was the smell of his cologne, of takeout containers on the counter, and the lingering scent of old vinyl records. It was comfortable in a way your place could never be.

—-

You were already curled up on the bed, the cozy oversized hoodie of Hizashi’s hanging loosely around your shoulders as you relaxed, your eyes drifting lazily over to him.

Hizashi was standing by the dresser, pulling his shirt from his back. You could see the outline of his muscles through the fabric, his usual confident swagger already making its way into the room. The shirt came off, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Hubba hubba,” you said, low and teasing, eyes half lidded in playful admiration.

Hizashi paused mid motion, glancing at you with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, his lips twitching as he shook his head. “Really? You’ve had enough of the party already, and now you’re making comments like that?”

“I’m just appreciating the view,” you grinned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

already pulling his t-shirt off and tossing it casually over his shoulder, sending it flying directly toward you. “There. Now you can cuddle with this.”

You caught it effortlessly, wrapping it around yourself with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, this is like drugs”

Hizashi smirked, standing now in just his vest, eyes twinkling with that usual teasing glint. “You’re welcome, superstar. Now, sleep. I swear, you can’t be serious about anything right now.”

“Who said I wasn’t serious?” you teased, settling back into the pillows with the shirt around you like a blanket. “I’m just showing my appreciation for my handsome boyfriend.”

Hizashi chuckled, walking toward the bed and lying down next to you. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, already getting comfortable beside you. “Alright, enough with the compliments. We both need sleep.”

You couldn’t resist giving him one last playful glance, leaning over and kissing his cheek quickly before nestling down beside him. “Fine, fine… but I’m still thinking ‘hubba hubba’ in my head.”

He rolled his eyes once more, pulling you closer with a content sigh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yep,” you whispered with a sleepy smile. “and i’m sure you wouldn’t want it any other way.” He didn’t reply right away, his arms pulling you close as you both settled in for the night.

You: i don't want to victim blame but maybe if he didn't want to be called babygirl he shouldn't have been such a babygirl. just a thought.

:0

Boothill HSR X Reader

“Im Just Baking Cookies”

Boothill LOVES how you are so quiet but still tries to sound mean.

MASTERLIST

ᡕᠵデ气亠. The scent of warm vanilla and butter hung in the air like a soft lullaby. The kitchen of the Astral Express was cozy, golden light pouring in from the windows that overlooked the glowing dreamscape of Penacony. The others were out exploring, no doubt causing a mess. You’d opted out this time. From Caelus running around all the time and Dan Heng being the most cynic you’ve ever met. you needed a you day

You stood at the counter, a smear of flour on your cheek and a whisk in your hand as you mixed the batter with care. A batch of cookies cooled beside you while the next round waited patiently for the oven. The rhythmic sound of metal scraping against the bowl was oddly soothing.

You didn’t even hear the door open. You didn’t hear the soft boots on metal. But you did hear the voice. “Now darlin’, I gotta say, I didn’t think the Express came with an angel in the kitchen.”

You jumped, the bowl nearly slipping from your hands. You spun on instinct, heart rocketing up your throat. Without thinking, you pointed your whisk like it was a weapon. Boothill stood in the doorway, hat tipped low, a roguish grin cutting across his face like it had been carved from charm itself. He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, lazy and at ease, like he hadn’t just snuck onto the Astral Express uninvited.

And yet, there was no panic in your chest. Just annoyed disbelief. “You lost?” you said, tone flat, though your grip on the whisk didn’t loosen.

His grin widened. “Nope. Think I found exactly what I was lookin’ for.”

He strolled further into the kitchen, bootsteps slow and deliberate. He moved like a man who knew his effect on people. With every step closer, you felt your expression harden. But your stance never wavered. “You’re trespassing,” you said. “Which means you’ve got about five seconds to explain yourself before I chase you out with a kitchen utensil.”

Boothill paused a few feet away, giving the whisk a curious once over. “Now hold on there, sugar,” he drawled, voice thick with that warm southern charm. “Didn’t mean no harm. Just couldn’t help followin’ the scent of somethin’ sweet. Turns out it wasn’t the cookies.”

You stared. Said nothing. He chuckled, low and velvety, hand reaching up to tilt his hat back. “You always this silent?”

Still, you didn’t respond. You raised your whisk a little higher, narrowing your eyes as if sizing him up for a duel.

Boothill blinked, then gave a small, amused whistle. “Well, I’ll be. You’re a real pistol, ain’t ya?”

He took another step forward. You jabbed the whisk at him not quite a threat, slowly taunting over. He stopped. “Easy now,” he said, palms raised. “Ain’t here for a shootout. Just figured… if the rest of y’all were out, you might enjoy some company.”

You glanced at the oven. Back at him. “I was enjoying the lack of company.”

Boothill didn’t flinch. “Sure you were. But look at it this way you keep bakin’, I’ll keep talkin’. Maybe I’ll even convince you I ain’t all that bad.”

You stared a moment longer, weighing your options. Finally, you turned back to your bowl with a soft sigh, lowering the whisk but only slightly. “Stay out of my way,” you muttered. “And don’t touch anything.”

Behind you, Boothill gave a triumphant hum, the grin still stitched to his face “No promises, sugar.” But he didn’t touch anything.

He just leaned against the wall, arms folded, hat tipped low, and talked and while you didn’t flirt back not once your silence didn’t push him away either. You kept your back to him, the sound of the whisk hitting the sides of the metal bowl grounding you as much as it filled the silence. Well not quite silence. Boothill kept talking, weaving lazy words in that smooth, southern drawl of his, like he was just killing time on a front porch somewhere.

You weren’t listening. Not really. But you also hadn’t kicked him out. “What is that smell?” he asked eventually, voice a little closer now. “Somethin’ sweet. Kinda like you.”

You rolled your eyes finally turning to grab the small bowl of buttercream frosting you had chilling on the side. You dipped a spoon in, then held it out toward him wordlessly. “Try it,” you said. “Since you’re so good at judging what’s sweet.”

He grinned like a devil given permission. “Well now, don’t mind if I do.” Boothill stepped forward, real slow. He didn’t take the spoon from you. No, that wouldn’t have been too easy. Instead, he leaned down and tasted it mouth brushing the edge of the spoon like it was something far more intimate than sugar and butter. His lips curled as the flavor melted on his tongue.

He took another step forward. Then another. Until the air between you thinned, stretched taut like a wire. He was close now too close. You hadn’t moved, hadn’t flinched, but your hand was still midair holding that spoon, and Boothill was standing in the halo of soft kitchen light like a man who knew exactly how to make it all feel too much.

His eyes locked with yours glinting with that same wild. “Now that,” he murmured, voice dipped in honey and danger, “is the best damn thing I’ve tasted in a while. And trust me, sweetheart, I’ve tasted a lot of things in my time.”

You breathed out quiet, shaky. The kind of breath you didn’t mean to let slip. The kind that betrayed something deeper.

He smiled wider, a knowing tilt of his mouth. “Didn’t mean to leave you speechless, sugar. But I gotta admit… it looks real good on you.” Your hand finally lowered, the spoon forgotten. Your other tightened slightly around the whisk at your side like it could anchor you. You weren’t flustered you weren’t. But the warmth in your cheeks? The way your heart tripped in your chest?

Still, your voice came back to you, steady despite the hitch a second ago “You’re standing too close.”

Boothill didn’t move. He just leaned in, just enough for his words to graze your ear. “Funny,” he said lowly. “Feels like I’m just where I oughta be.”

You didn’t push him away. But you did tilt your head just slightly, eyes narrowing.

“watch yourself,” you warned, “I’ll shove that spoon somewhere frosting doesn’t belong.”

Boothill laughed quiet and genuine, like you’d just made his whole day. He finally stepped back with both hands up again. “Got it, sugar. No touchin’. For now.”

You exhaled once more, this time through your nose. Then turned back to the bowl, ignoring how warm the kitchen suddenly felt. You heard him lean against the counter behind you.

When the last batch of cookies cooled and the frosting was tucked away in a small container, the adrenaline had finally worn off. The rush of being snuck up on, the intensity of his presence, all of it settled into a quiet buzz at the back of your mind. Boothill hadn’t left not that you’d asked him to anymore but the kitchen had grown calmer. Now you sat beside him on the small bench by the kitchen window, legs pulled up slightly as you bit into one of your cookies. The sweetness was warm, rich, buttery. Comforting.

Boothill, meanwhile, was still talking. Something about Penacony. Something about how the colors were too bright and too fake. Something about a guy he once knew with “a mustache that could lasso a comet.” You weren’t really following. You just nodded occasionally.

But as you chewed slowly and let your thoughts drift, something clicked in the back of your mind. Wait… if his whole body’s robotic everything but his head then… He can’t eat. Not really. Not like this. Which means… he can’t feel. No nerves, no receptors. No warmth, no pressure. No pain. No pleasure.

Your eyes narrowed faintly in thought. So… theoretically, he couldn’t You glanced sideways at him, a half laugh puffing through your nose at your own internal joke. He probably can’t even get horny. Not that you were planning on testing that theory. Ever.

Boothill kept yapping, completely oblivious to the odd train of thought you’d gone down. His arms were folded behind his head now, hat tilted back slightly as he rambled about something that might’ve involved a gunfight on top of a moving train. Or maybe a bar fight. With him, it was hard to tell.

As he went on, your eyes landed on the way his hair had slipped down into his face again. It was long too long, really, for someone so full of motion and swagger. It fell in front of his eyes, almost shielding them. A curtain of copper and gold. Without thinking, you reached out and brushed it aside just enough to tuck a few strands behind his ear.

And that’s when he stopped. Mid sentence. Mid word. Just… froze. His whole body stilled like someone hit a pause button. You blinked, suddenly realizing what you’d done. Boothill’s eyes slowly met yours.

You lowered your hand, unsure for a split second. But Boothill didn’t look away. Didn’t say a word

Maybe not in the way most people did. But there was something in that simple moment your fingertips brushing his temple, sliding the hair from his face that made the air feel a little sillier.

The expression on his face wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t charming. It was just… still. You took another bite of your cookie, suddenly feeling like you’d done something much more intimate than you intended. Boothill finally cleared his throat, a flicker of motion returning to his features. The grin came back but it was softer now “Well,” he said, voice a little more low pitched than before, “that was… somethin’.”

You just looked out the window, letting the taste of sugar and frosting linger on your tongue, and felt the weight of that quiet between you both. For the first time since he’d stepped foot on the Express, Boothill wasn’t talking.

You reached for another cookie, already bracing yourself for Boothill to launch into another absurd story something about a bounty, a jailhouse escape, maybe even a mechanical rattlesnake this time because he always did. You thibk by now he knows you’re not the biggest talker in the world. But just before your fingers brushed the plate, his hand caught yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. His touch was firm but not harsh. Metal fingers curled gently around yours, cool and seamless, humming faintly with life. You didn’t even have time to react before he brought both your hands up… and pressed them to his face.

The contact was immediate.

The warmth of his skin, the faint vibration of the robotic parts moving beneath it all sank into your palms as he leaned in, into your touch and he just kept talking.

“Well now, this reminds me of the time I went toe to toe with a fella named Colt McGraw big ol’ gunslinger, real sore loser. Got hisself stuck in a barrel of moonshine after I tricked him into thinkin’ I was a ghost long story.”

His accent was as thick and honey smooth as ever, drawling like he hadn’t just casually stolen the most flustering moment of your entire day. Your hands stayed there, pinned softly to the sides of his face. His hair tickled your knuckles. His skin, the only flesh left on his body, was warm beneath your fingertips. And those vivid eyes sharp, playful, aware were half lidded in a way that made it worse. So much worse.

You sat completely still, back straight, staring at him like someone had just pulled the floor out from under you. Your face burned. It crept up from your neck, flushed across your cheeks, and hit the tips of your ears in a matter of seconds. He knew. He had to know.

But he just kept rambling, voice slow and syrupy. “Y’know, I gotta say, ain’t every day someone can be so on guard and make me feel this way. Makes a cowboy feel like a person again.” He smiled. “Kinda nice.”

You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You tried again. Still nothing. Your brain was static, your thoughts replaced with a single screaming line of internal monologue: what is happening what is happening what is happening.

Boothill didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. If anything, he looked relaxed. Comfortable. Still holding your hands to his face like they belonged there.

And you flushed, frozen, helplessly red just sat there, cookie forgotten, wondering how the hell a man made mostly of metal could make you feel this warm.

ᡕᠵデ气亠

Boothill’s words kept rolling, painting images of outlaw duels and near death standoffs with the kind of ease that came only from experience or embellishment. Probably both. But he never let go. Your hands stayed cradled against his face the whole time, his metal fingers wrapped gently around your wrists like he wasn’t ready to let the moment end. He leaned into your touch time and time again.

Eventually, though, the story began to wind down. Something about escaping a collapsing bridge with nothing but a grappling hook and “a prayer to whoever was listenin’.” He chuckled at his own punchline, the corner of his mouth curling in that easy, boyish way that somehow made everything worse.

Then, slowly reluctantly he let your hands go. He lowered them from his face with a gentleness that didn’t match the brashness he wore like a badge. His fingers slid away last, like he was memorizing the shape of you with the tips of his metal hands. When he looked at you, his eyes were steady.

“Lil’ darlin’,” he said, voice low and warm like sunbaked earth, “you got hands that feel like home. I ain’t sure what kinda trouble you’re stirrin’ up in that head o’ yours, but I reckon I’ll be thinkin’ about this for a good long while.”

He tipped his hat just slightly and started to turn like he meant to leave. Your eyes dropped to your lap for half a second before you stopped him.

“…I really liked your stories,” you said softly, barely above a whisper.

He paused in the doorway. You hadn’t meant to sound so genuine. So raw. But it was too late to take it back. Boothill glanced over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch the smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Well… guess I’ll have to come back ‘round and tell you another sometime, huh?”

And just like that, he was gone. Leaving behind the faint scent of old gunpowder and desert air and a heartbeat in your chest that didn’t quite know how to settle down.

Boothill: So… if I “accidentally” kissed you, youd fall in love right?

You: If you “accidentally” kissed me, I’d “accidentally” reload your gun with glitter and watch you die fabulous.

Sanji Vinsmoke x Reader

𓊝﹏ All Too Well 𓊝﹏

blab blah blah I see him and suddenly im dumb

masterlist

SYNOPSIS: don’t you hate when your woman who is not your woman get fed up with you so your woman who’s not your woman goes and take matters into her own hands.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖ You strolled through a lively port town with Sanji, the afternoon sun warming your skin as the scent of fresh bread and spices drifted through the air. He was, as always, a step ahead, effortlessly weaving through the crowd with you trailing behind.

Despite the reason for this trip to restock the ship’s food supplies Sanji seemed to treat it as a personal mission to chat with every woman who so much as glanced his way. It was nothing new, really. Every compliment, every declaration of love, every swooning reaction from the ladies it was all part of who he was.

But damn, was it annoying sometimes.

“Sanji,” you called, catching up to him as he leaned over a stall, grinning at the vendor a particularly pretty woman selling fresh herbs. “Are we actually shopping, or are you just collecting plans for tonight ?”

He turned to you with that signature charm. “What, love? Are you getting jealous? My love you’re always at the top of my list” His smirk was teasing, playful, but something about the way he said it made your stomach twist.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Not in the slightest. Just wondering if I should be carrying all these bags myself while you’re busy.”

Sanji straightened immediately. “I would never let a lady carry heavy bags in my presence!” He took them from your arms with ease, but before you could feel triumphant, he turned back to the vendor and gently took her hand. “Forgive me, mademoiselle, duty calls. But know that your beauty is as fresh as your basil.”

You clenched your jaw. That was it.

Without a word, you pivoted on your heel and strolled off into the bustling crowd, leaving him behind. You didn’t need to deal with this right now.

You made your way to a nearby fruit stall, inspecting the selection when a voice interrupted. “You seem like you have good taste,” a smooth voice said.

You glanced up to see a man tall, rugged, with a confident smile. He gestured toward the apples. “Which one would you recommend?”

You hummed thoughtfully, picking up a ripe one and handing it to him with a slight tilt of your head. “This one.”

He took it, fingers brushing yours. “Good choice. Maybe you should stick around and help me shop.”

You chuckled, more amused than anything, but before you could respond, a familiar presence appeared beside you.

Sanji.

The air shifted instantly. His easygoing charm was still there, but his stance was different subtle but firm. “Ah, my dear, there you are.” His hand found the small of your back, light but undeniably possessive. “I was worried when you ran off.”

The man’s gaze flickered between you two. “You two together?”

Sanji smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his tone, but you said nothing. You usually just let it play out, enjoying the rare sight of Sanji stewing in his own jealousy.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, we’re not together.”

Sanji’s hand, which had been resting lightly against your back, lifted ever so slightly before dropping entirely.

The man smirked, clearly pleased with the answer. “That so?” He took a bite of the apple you’d chosen for him, eyes flickering over you with interest. “Then maybe”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s free to flirt with whoever she wants,” Sanji cut in, voice sharp with something unreadable. “don’t let me stop you”

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “Oh? You suddenly have a problem with that?”

His smile was still there, but it was forced now, tight at the edges. “Of course not, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice, a tension in his stance.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Then piss off, Sanji. Thought you had some more lovely ladies to chase after.”

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched. His whole demeanor shifted still composed, still that smooth talking flirt, but now there was something else lurking underneath. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling before flashing you a lazy smirk. “Fine. Do whatever you want, gorgeous.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, hands in his pockets, looking every bit as confident as always. But you saw it the tightness in his shoulders, the way his footsteps were just a little too heavy.

Good. Let him stew in it for a change.

You turned back to the guy, flashing a charming smile of your own. “Now, where were we?”

But even as you continued talking, a lingering heat stayed on your skin the memory of Sanji’s touch, his lingering gaze, and the way his voice had dropped just slightly when he called you gorgeous.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

You continued chatting with the man, picking out a few more items for your collection, and although he was polite and engaging, your thoughts kept drifting back to Sanji. The way his hand had hovered at your back, the little flicker of jealousy in his eyes, the forced smoothness in his voice it was all so familiar, you felt it all too well and yet it made you feel strangely unsettled.

As the day passed, the random guy proved to be an easy companion, offering good suggestions for what to buy and being genuinely considerate when it came to picking out fresh produce and spices. He was easy to talk to, and the lighthearted banter between you two made the errands almost feel like a casual date. But every so often, you’d glance at the bags you were carrying, noticing that they were getting heavier as you loaded up, and that faint tug of regret would sneak in.

You missed the way Sanji always insisted on carrying your bags, even if it was over the top, and how he’d make sure you didn’t have to lift a finger when it came to food shopping, the way he’d make it fun with jokes, teasing, and making you feel like the only one in the world who mattered.

It wasn’t that this guy was bad company it was just… different. There was no shared bond, no shared history, no special moments where the two of you made meals together or laughed over burned rice or an over salted stew. It was a nice day, but it wasn’t the same as being with Sanji.

After a few more minutes, you noticed the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky. The port town was starting to empty out, and you realized you should probably start heading back to the ship. “I think I’ve got everything I need,” you said, your smile warm but thoughtful. “I should be getting back.”

The man nodded, giving you a polite smile. “Of course, I won’t keep you. Thanks for the company today it was nice to meet you.”

You waved it off, feeling the first pang of regret. “It was fun. Take care.”

Turning to leave, you started heading back to the dock, your steps a little slower than before. It felt like a quiet, pleasant day, but there was a knot in your chest. It was the first time you’d felt this way in a while like you were missing something, or maybe someone.

As you walked, your thoughts returned to Sanji again, to the way his voice had softened just slightly when he’d called you “gorgeous” before walking off. you’d find him later, and you could tell him exactly how much you missed his presence, his playful teasing, and the way he made everything feel like it had purpose.

But for now, you simply carried the bags of fresh food back to the ship, the smell of it reminding you of those quiet moments in the kitchen, when you two would bond over cooking together. It was a kind of peace you didn’t want to give up.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

You climbed up the gangplank of the Sunny, arms full with bags of fresh produce and dry goods. The afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting warm golden hues over the ship. You had managed to grab most of the things on the list hopefully, Sanji had taken care of the rest. Knowing him, he probably had.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders. The encounter in town still lingered in your mind, but you shook it off. Whatever. If Sanji wanted to act like a flirt one minute and get possessive the next, that was his problem.

Just as you were stepping onto the deck, a hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you to the side.

“Hey what the”

You turned to see Nami, her sharp eyes scanning your face like she was trying to read your thoughts.

“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms. “What the hell happened between you and Sanji?”

Your brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Nami gave you an unimpressed look. “Oh, don’t even try that with me,” she huffed. “Sanji came back before you, dumped the supplies in the kitchen, and has been stomping around ever since. He’s barely said a word, hasn’t flirted with a single woman on board, and even turned down Robin when she asked for tea.”

You blinked. He turned down Robin?

Nami leaned in slightly. “So I’ll ask again what happened?”

You clicked your tongue, shifting your weight. “Nothing. We just… went shopping, got separated, and that’s it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You said that way too vaguely.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Look, I just got tired of his bullshit, alright? One minute he’s all over me, the next he’s flirting with some random girl, then when I start talking to someone, he’s got a problem with it? I’m not dealing with that.”

Nami’s lips twitched slightly like she wanted to smirk but was holding back. “So you made him jealous.”

“I wasn’t trying to make him jealous,” you muttered. “I just had enough of him acting like I’m special one second and then running off to the next girl the moment I blink.”

Nami hummed, clearly enjoying this. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. I haven’t seen him this grumpy in ages.” She smirked, giving you a knowing look. “So… what now?”

You hesitated. You weren’t really sure. Did you want to clear the air? Did you want to keep making him stew in it?

Before you could answer, a familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

“Oi!” Sanji’s voice was sharp, impatient. “If you’re done gossiping, some of us still have a ship to cook for!”

You and Nami exchanged glances.

“Yep,” she said, grinning. “You definitely got to him.” immediately both you and nami run to bring the bags to him

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

Dinner on the Sunny was as usual a lively affair laughter, conversation, and the clatter of dishes filling the air as everyone enjoyed Sanji’s cooking.

But tonight?

Tonight, there was an unmistakable tension radiating from the cook.

Sanji moved through the kitchen and dining area with his usual grace, but his movements were stiff, his usual flirtatious remarks absent. He set plates down with a little too much force, his jaw tight as he worked in silence.

“Oi, Sanji, what’s with the attitude?” Zoro grumbled, eyeing him over his plate. “You got your ass kicked in town or somethin’?”

Sanji shot him a glare. “Shut it, mosshead.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow but smirked knowingly, clearly enjoying whatever was going on.

You, on the other hand, kept your focus on your plate, trying not to let your own amusement show. So he’s still sulking, huh?

Across the table, Nami sent you a quick glance before leaning back with a satisfied smile. “Dinner’s great, Sanji,” she said, clearly baiting him. “It’s almost like you channeled all your pent up frustration into it.”

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched, but he forced a smile. “Glad you like it, Nami.”

You caught the way his gaze flickered toward you just for a second before he turned away and busied himself at the stove.

Robin, ever perceptive, let out a soft hum. “It’s rare to see our dear cook so tense. I wonder what could’ve caused it.”

Luffy, oblivious as always, just grinned as he stuffed his face. “As long as he keeps cooking, who cares?”

Sanji ignored them all, but the way he gripped the edge of the counter told you everything.

Oh, he was definitely still stewing over what happened in town.

⊹ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ˖

With dinner finished and everyone helping to clean up, the tension lingering around Sanji was still very present. He scrubbed a pan with more force than necessary, his jaw tight, his usual smooth demeanor buried under whatever storm was brewing in his head.

You couldn’t help it. Seeing him like this so obviously riled up was just too entertaining to ignore.

So, you casually leaned against the counter beside him, watching as he worked. “You know,” you mused, “for someone who flirts like it’s his life’s mission, you sure get pissy when the tables turn.”

Sanji’s scrubbing stopped.

Slowly, he turned his head, giving you a side eye that could probably set something on fire. “Oh?” he said, voice deceptively calm. “And what exactly are you implying, sweetheart?”

You smirked. “I’m just saying… for someone who was practically jumping from one woman to another earlier, you got awfully moody when I talked to someone else.”

Sanji let out a sharp exhale, setting the pan down a little harder than necessary. He turned to you fully, leaning in just slightly, his presence radiating something different something charged.

“You think I’m jealous?” His voice was low, controlled, but you could see the way his fingers curled against the counter, how his eyes darkened just a little.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well, you have been sulking all evening.”

Sanji huffed out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Tch. You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” you teased, stepping just a little closer, “you still haven’t denied it.”

His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you swore you saw something flicker across his face something raw, something real. But just as quickly, he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Whatever,” he muttered, grabbing another dish to wash. “Go flirt with your little market boy if that’s what you want.”

You grinned. “Ohhh, so you are jealous.”

His grip tightened on the plate. “I’m not” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply before turning his glare on you. “Go away.”

You laughed, thoroughly enjoying this. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. It’s fun watching you try not to combust.”

Sanji shot you one last glare before turning back to the dishes, muttering something under his breath. But even with his back to you, you could see it the slight redness at the tips of his ears.

Oh yeah. You definitely had him right where you wanted him.

You watched him for a moment, enjoying the way his shoulders were tense, his hands working the dishes with a little too much force. It was rare to see Sanji like this off balance, rattled.

And you weren’t done playing with him just yet.

Stepping closer, you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him down to your height before he could react.

Sanji barely had time to blink before your lips were near his ear, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“You know,” you murmured, “for someone who claims to be a gentleman, you’re not acting very chivalrous right now.”

His breath hitched, but he didn’t move, frozen in place.

“I did it on purpose,” you admitted, your voice soft but smug. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

Sanji’s fingers twitched where they gripped the counter, but he still didn’t say a word.

Smirking, you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes stormy, intense, filled with something unreadable. And before he could say anything, you leaned in and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his cheek.

You felt his body tense beneath your touch, his breath hitch once more.

Then, just as quickly, you let go, stepping back and flashing him a knowing smile.

“Thanks for dinner, Sanji,” you said casually,

you turned on your heel and walked away, feeling the weight of his stare burning into your back.

And for once, Sanji was the one left speechless.

You paused just before stepping out of the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder with a smirk. Sanji still hadn’t moved, his hands gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His expression was unreadable, his lips slightly parted like he wanted to say something but nothing came out.

Perfect.

“Oh, by the way,” you added, tilting your head just enough to watch his reaction, “I think I’ll go hang out with Zoro for a bit. At least he’ll give me some attention.”

Sanji twitched.

His eye visibly twitched.

The sheer offense that flashed across his face was priceless.

His mouth opened, then closed, as if he was scrambling for a comeback but all he could do was let out a sharp, frustrated exhale through his nose.

You almost burst out laughing right then and there. Instead, you gave him one last wink before disappearing down the hall, leaving him stewing in his jealousy.

Y/n: “Oh, don’t mind me, Sanji. I’ll just keep teasing you until you get all worked up, but I’m sure you’re completely unaffected, right?”

BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

Present Mic | Hizashi Yamada

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Feedback Loop

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Irresistible

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Mid Life Crisis

𓇢𓆸☾☼Fighting the Pro

𓇢𓆸☾☼MOMMY?!?

𓇢𓆸☾☼Off The Record

Dabi | Touya Todoroki

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Run Boy Run

𓇢𓆸☾☼ I Am Here

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Knowing How to Find Them

Hawks | Keigo Takami

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Predetermined

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Let Me Be Your Wings

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Smoke and Feathers

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Drabble #1

Lemillion | Mirio Togata

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Sunshine Boy

Cellophane | Sero Hanta

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Pro Hero- SpiderMan

Rody Soul

𓇢𓆸☾☼ You Matter to Me

guys who would fuck with present mic brain rot. There is like no stories for him on here and i’m seriously about to start a one man revolution if I need too.

Boku no Hero Academia the Movie 4: Your Next || Hawks (Keigo Takami)

O read the sal x reader fic you posted where they go to the lake, I'm obsessed. Can I have the same scenario but with Larry x reader? Larry would be exactly like he is in the reffered fanfic but instead of sal, it's him who's in live with reader. Does that make sense?

Sorry for any typos, and thanks in advance :))

Larry Johnson X Reader

˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊ BIKINI KILL ˖ . ݁𝜗☠︎︎𝜚. ݁₊

masterlist

i tried to make this a little different i feel Larry would have a more sillier relationship with the reader.

Legend

PunkGoddess: The reader

Constantine: Sal

Y/n’s Wife : Ash

Homophobe (liar) : Todd

skidmark : Larry

———

Group Chat Name: Ghostbusters ‼️‼️‼️

———

[1:32 PM] punk goddess: GUYS. GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS. Emergency.

[1:32 PM] skidmark: what did u break this time?

[1:33 PM] Y/n’s Wife: If it’s your microwave again, I’m not lending you mine.

[1:33 PM] punk goddess: EXCUSE YOU. that was ONE TIME and the hot dog exploded FIRST.

[1:33 PM] homophobe (liar): I feel like there’s context missing here, but I also don’t want it.

[1:34 PM] punk goddess: Okay okay but LISTEN!! I had a vision. A prophecy. A divine revelation from the universe itself.

[1:34 PM] Constantine: You had a Red Bull, didn’t you?

[1:34 PM] punk goddess: Yes. And also: LET’S GO TO THE LAKE. TODAY. RIGHT NOW. potential skinny dipping if Larry gets too confident let’s do it.

[1:35 PM] skidmark: why am I always dragged into ur crimes also bold of u to assume I’d get too confident i was born confident, baby

[1:35 PM] punk goddess: Oh really?? Confident enough to jump in wearing nothing

[1:35 PM] skidmark: you tryna get me naked or what?

[1:36 PM] Y/n’s Wife: …I feel like I walked into something I shouldn’t be seeing.

[1:36 PM] homophobe (liar): I second that.

[1:36 PM] punk goddess: Don’t act like y’all are innocent. Todd, I saw the way you looked at that mannequin in the mall.

[1:37 PM] homophobe (liar): That was ONE TIME. And it startled me, I thought it was a real person.

[1:37 PM] punk goddess: Sureeeee. Anyway. LAKE. Yes or yes?

[1:38 PM] Constantine: Honestly, it’s not a bad idea. Could be fun to get out of town for a bit. Music, water, no ghosts…

[1:38 PM] skidmark: Speak for urself. I’m bringing my speaker AND a cursed cassette tape.

[1:38 PM] Y/n’s Wife: I’m down. But someone better bring actual food this time. Not just whatever radioactive energy drink Larry always packs.

[1:39 PM] skidmark: ur just jealous of my neon piss

[1:39 PM] punk goddess: I will bring snacks. I’ll even cut up fruit and pretend I’m a responsible adult.

[1:40 PM] Constantine: Make sure to pack sunscreen too. We’re all way too pale for this idea.

[1:40 PM] punk goddess: Speak for yourself. I tan like a goddess. Larry tans like a confused lobster.

[1:41 PM] skidmark: wow stab me harder why dont u

[1:41 PM] punk goddess: KINKY.

[1:41 PM] Y/n’s Wife: EW STOP

[1:42 PM] homophobe (liar): Too late. The damage is done.

[1:42 PM] Constantine: So… we’re actually doing this?

[1:42 PM] punk goddess: HELL YEAH. I’m already putting together a playlist called “Drown the dogs.”

[1:43 PM] skidmark: can’t wait to be blinded by ur trash taste in music

[1:43 PM] punk goddess: Can’t wait to see you shirtless. Wait what? Who said that?

[1:43 PM] Y/n’s Wife: You did. Just now.

[1:44 PM] punk goddess: Suspicious. Anyway, we’re meeting at my place in an hour. Don’t flake or I’ll come to your houses and cry aggressively.

[1:44 PM] homophobe (liar): Noted.

[1:44 PM] Constantine: I’ll bring drinks.

[1:45 PM] skidmark: I’ll bring my devilish charm.

[1:45 PM] punk goddess: That and swim trunks Larry PLEAse.

[1:45 PM] Y/n’s Wife: you both have such a hard on for each other

[1:46 PM] punk goddess: See you soon, you filthy gremlins!

————

Sprawled out sideways on Larry’s bed, you turned over, pressing your cheek against the cool blanket as you glanced at the two boys across the room. Larry was sitting cross legged on the floor, sketchbook in his lap, glancing up at you with one brow raised. Sal was lounging against the wall nearby, hands in his hoodie pockets, quiet and observant as always. The light filtering through the window hit just right, and everything felt kind of… perfect.

You grinned. “guys im shitting bricks im so excited”

Sal smiled faintly under his mask. “I cant say im not, its good to be outside”

“I regret nothing,” you replied, kicking your legs a little. “This lake thing it’s gonna be good, right? Like, really good.”

Larry looked up. “Yeah. It’ll be cool to get out of town for a bit. Been a while since we all hung out like that.”

You sat up, tugging your patched up jacket around your shoulders. “It’s been forever since I went out into the water. Not like, feet dangling off a dock. I mean swimming. ”

Sal gave a small laugh. “You guys definitely have fun with that I still might sit on the side.”

You turned to face them both fully now, eyes bright. “One day ill have you in the water, count your days, l’m seriously so excited. Like absurdly. I didn’t even realize how much I missed this kind of stuff.” Then suddenly, your eyes widened. “Wait.”

Larry blinked. “Uh oh.”

“WAIT,” you repeated, bolting upright like you’d been struck by lightning. “I have to get ready. I gotta oh my god I need to go home right now”. You were vibrating, practically bouncing in place, the tips of your spiked choker jingling with every movement. “I gotta get stuff. I gotta have snacks, floaties, my underwater speaker WHERE’S MY STUPID SPIDER MAN TOWEL?!”

Sal tilted his head. “We’re not leaving yet.”

“Exactly! Which means I have time to overprepare!” you jumped to your feet, pacing toward the door. Oh my god, I need to clean my portable speaker. What if it’s still got sand in it from the last time?!”

“my girl chillax,” Larry said, watching you with amusement.

“I live in a constant state of prepared, thank you,” you replied dramatically, You dashed for the door, but not before stopping in your tracks like a cartoon character slamming on invisible brakes. You whipped around and made a beeline for Sal.

“Come here, Blue Boy.”

He blinked. “Uh what ”

You grabbed the sides of his head with both hands, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the mouth of his mask with a big dramatic MWAH. Sal just sat there, stunned, eyes wide beneath his bangs. “That’s for being pretty,” you said with a wink, then turned to Larry, who immediately raised his hands.

“Oh no. Nope. Keep those lips away ”

“TOO LATE, BABYGIRL.”

You lunged forward, grabbed his face like he was made of Play Doh, and squished his cheeks so hard his lips puckered like a goldfish. Then you smooched his cheek with obnoxious enthusiasm.

“BLESSINGS UPON YOUR SOUL,” you declared like a cryptid giving gifts before returning to the woods.

“Jesus” Larry wiped his face with his sleeve. “You’re outta your damn mind.”

You shot finger guns at them both as you bolted through the door. “ILL SEE YOU BOTH IN A HOUR! GET PIZZA OR SOMETHING!!! LARRY I TRUST YOULL GET ME THE WHITE MONSTER”

The door slammed behind you, your boots stomping down the hallway like the drums of war. There was silence for a second. Larry and Sal just sat there, blinking.

“…I’m gonna kill her,” Larry muttered.

Sal tilted his head, still a little pink. “You’re smiling.”

“…shut up.”

The sun shimmered on the lake’s surface, soft waves lapping against the shore while the portable speaker played something upbeat in the background. You were out by the edge, ankle deep in the water, sunglasses perched on your head and a towel wrapped around your hips, laughing at something Ash was saying as she lobbed a pebble into the water.

Back up on the grass, Sal and Larry were sitting near the cooler under the shade of a tree, both half watching the others with lazy contentment. Sal sipped from a can of soda, the eyes behind his mask glinting with mischief. “You know,” he said casually, “it’s kinda funny.”

Larry glanced over. “What is?”

“You got a kiss on the cheek…” Sal tilted his head, then lightly tapped the front of his mask. “I got one on the mouth.”

Larry squinted. “Don’t start.”

Sal leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “I dunno, man. Felt kinda intimate. Real sweet. Thought maybe I should shoot my shot. Might be stealing your girl.”

Larry choked on his own drink. “She’s not my girl!” Sal just hummed. Larry rubbed his hand over his face, groaning. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so jealous,” Sal said calmly, smiling behind the mask.

“I am not.” Larry scowled, even though his ears had turned the faintest shade of pink. “It was a joke. She’s like that with everyone.”

“Sure,” Sal said, taking another sip. “Believe what you wanna believe but calls you sexy punk god?.”

Larry blinked. “Wait she said that?”

“No,” Sal said, then smirked. “But I did. In the group chat. Changed her name. ‘Punk Goddess of the Apocalypse.’ Go check.”

Larry grabbed his phone instantly, thumbs flying.

Sal chuckled again. “Told you.”

Larry stared at the screen. Sure enough, her contact had been changed in the group chat to: PUNK GODDESS OF THE APOCALYPSE.

“Okay…” Larry leaned back, trying to act chill but definitely failing. “Okay, but like… that’s fair. Because she is. She’s got the look”

“So you do agree with me,” Sal said, amused.

Larry laughed under his breath, running a hand through his messy hair. “Id have to be on the hard stuff to not believe that but even so I'd still find her beautiful”

“Oh?” He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting back toward the water where you were now trying to balance on a slippery rock and muttering curses under your breath. “She’s the whole damn package you know? Like if a Molotov cocktail wore fishnets and had a laugh that made you think about your life choices”

Sal gave a low hum, listening. “She’s punk in the real way,” Larry continued, tone softening. “Not just the clothes. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks, she’s loud when she wants to be, soft when she feels like it, and she’s got this weird thing where she always knows what to say when I’m spiraling. Like… she gets it. And she’s so goddamn cool it makes me feel stupid.”

Sal tilted his head. “a lot of thoughts right there”

“Dude.” Larry scoffed. “She’s like… cool in a ‘rips cigs on rooftops at 3 a.m. while yelling at the moon’ kinda way. She throws glitter in people’s faces and then tells them to eat shit. That's kind of cool.”

Sal snorted. “That’s specific.”

“I’ve thought about it.”

Larry took another sip, then ran a hand through his hair again. “And she’s hot, man. Like, obnoxiously hot. Those lips? I want those all over me FOR THAT MATTER! i want to be all over her. she always smells like smoke and strawberry lip balm, which shouldn’t be sexy but somehow it is. She wears these stupid little chain belts that don’t hold up anything and her boots could crush me and I’d thank her for it.”

Sal let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow. “You’re really in it,.”

“I’m drowning,” Larry muttered while grabbing sals arms. “I’ve been drowning. She could say my name and I’d bark.”

Sal shook his head, amused. “You ever gonna tell her?”

Larry scoffed. “Yeah, let me just walk up and say, ‘Hey, hot sexy amazing mamacita of my dreams, wanna kiss me on the actual mouth this time instead of my fish lips face squish?.”

“You could try,” Sal offered, almost helpful. “She might surprise you.”

Larry threw his head back. “Nah. I’m the best friend. The face smushing, cheek kissing best friend. That’s my role in the grand narrative.”

Sal tilted his head, watching him. “it doesn't have to be like that I dont think”

Larry’s ears were on fire now. “Shut up.”

“Not judging. Just… interesting.”

“Whatever, man.” Larry tossed a twig toward him. “You’re just trying to mess with me.”

Sal snorted again. Larry looked back toward you, eyes softening. You had finally succeeded in climbing the rock and were now dramatically posing like a pirate with one boot in the air, yelling something about claiming the lake in the name of emotional damage. He laughed quietly to himself. “god theres not a lot to not love about her.”

“You’re pathetic,” Sal said without looking up, fiddling with the speaker’s volume.

“Thanks, man,” Larry muttered, still sprawled in the grass, one arm over his face like the sun itself had betrayed him. “Really appreciate the emotional support.” Before Sal could retort, a shadow passed over them followed by a familiar voice, all sunshine and danger.

“Okay, it’s so hot I’m pretty sure I’m about to melt into soup.”

Larry’s arm immediately dropped from his face. You stood above them, grinning wide, sunglasses sliding down your nose, hands on your hips. Your jacket was already off and your boots half unlaced.

“Water time,” you declared, toeing off the rest of your shoes. “This goth goblin’s about to be a lake nymph.”

Larry blinked once. Then twice. And then you were tugging your shirt up, peeling it off in one smooth, unbothered motion. His brain stopped immediately. You weren’t even doing anything on purpose you were just trying not to trip on your own pants while laughing about how they were sticking to your thighs but Larry was gone. Fully lost. Mentally kicked in the gut. Your bikini was black with silver safety pin accents, and paired with your tattoos and bedhead hair, you looked like the final boss in a sexy horror game.

Sal side eyed him. “Don’t pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Larry wheezed.

“You’re red.” “I’m sunburned.” “It’s only been fifteen minutes.” “Genetics.”

You stretched with a groan, arms overhead, hips swaying slightly as you let the sun hit your skin. Larry stared like he was about to have a heatstroke. Then, suddenly, you turned to him with that familiar little grin, sharp and playful.

“Alright, come on, Trash Prince.” You crouched and tugged at his wrist. “You’re coming in with me.”

“Wha wait hey ” Larry barely had time to sit up before you were already trying to drag him to his feet, hands clutching his.

“I am not letting you sit around being all hot and bothered under this tree while I get lake water up my nose alone.”

“I’m not hot,” Larry blurted, flustered.

“Oh, shut up, you totally are,” you said, eyes glittering as you yanked on his arm again.

Larry stumbled a little, brain short circuiting. “Wait hold on before I go get absolutely murdered by the lake, I, uh ” He dug into the cooler beside him, half panicked. “I brought you something.”

You paused, curious. “For me?”

He pulled out the offering like it was some sacred relic. “White Monster. Your holy grail.” You gasped like you’d been handed a family heirloom made of diamonds.

“No. No way.” You dropped to your knees beside him like it was a goddamn proposal. “You legend. You absolute feral prince.” And without hesitation, you launched yourself forward and hugged him, arms around his shoulders, your bare skin pressed against his shirt as you squeezed him.

Larry’s entire body locked up like a cursed doll.

“Oh my god, I love you,” you mumbled into his neck, practically in his lap now. “You understand me on a spiritual level.”

Larry’s soul left his body. Your thigh was across his, your chest lightly pressed to him, and you smelled like sunscreen and sweat and that fucking hint of strawberry lip balm. His hands hovered awkwardly midair like he didn’t know where to put them without catching on fire.

“I uh I ” he stammered.

You pulled back, cupping his cheeks. “Larry. Lawrence. Lorenzo Von Hot Topic. I am going to cannonball with that Monster in my hand and scream your name.”

Sal, still nearby, snorted so hard he nearly dropped his phone.

Larry, beet red and wide eyed, coughed into his fist. “Y’know, if you wanted to straddle me and yell my name, there are… simpler ways.”

You grinned like a demon. “Down, boy.”

Larry gave a strangled laugh, caught somewhere between aroused panic and blessed euphoria. You winked, then finally stood and popped the Monster open, chugging half of it with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Alright! Now I’m ready to raise hell.” And with that, you skipped toward the lake.

Larry groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

He stood up slowly, like he’d just been hit with emotional whiplash, and started pulling off his shirt, shaking out his hair and kicking off his boots. He grumbled under his breath the whole time, tossing his wallet chain onto the towel beside Sal. As he tugged off his jeans and stood there in swim trunks, Sal gave a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t know you were packing ‘lake dad’ abs under there.”

Larry shot him a flat look. “Shut up.”

Sal held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just saying at this rate, you two are gonna end up making out in the lake and I’m gonna need to leave out of respect.”

Larry flipped him off, already walking backward toward the water. “Yaya. Suck my toes, Sal.”

“Hard pass,” Sal called, chuckling.

The lake water was cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the blazing sun above. It hit just above your waist now, rippling gently around you as you waded in deeper, squinting against the brightness. Behind you, a loud splash erupted as Larry finally threw himself in arms flailing, long hair whipping as he surfaced with a dramatic gasp.

“Hell yeah!” he shouted.“I told you!” you said, spinning to face him. “Nature rules!”

He swam closer, a grin creeping across his face. “You gonna baptize me in lake water now, thou Pope of Punk?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No. I’m gonna drown you.”

And with zero hesitation, you lunged at him. Water sloshed violently as Larry ducked and caught you mid pounce, both of you nearly tipping over in a mess of limbs and splashes. You laughed so hard it echoed across the lake. Back on the shore, Sal, Ash, and Todd sat on a shared towel, watching with amusement. Sal had his knees up, hands resting over them, calm as ever. Ash leaned on his shoulder, chewing on a piece of watermelon, while Todd filmed the chaos on his phone.

“Ten bucks says one of them actually drowns,” Ash said, chuckling.

Sal tilted his head. “I think we’re just witnessing some fucked up version of foreplay.”

Todd didn’t look up. “I’m sending this video to Larry’s mom.”

Back in the water, you were locked in a play fight with Larry, both of you laughing, slipping, pushing each other only to catch one another at the last second. He grabbed your wrist and tried to drag you under gently, only for you to twist away, reach down, and pull up a long, slimy string of lakeweed.

“Oh no,” Larry said instantly. “Don’t you dare.”

You were already laughing too hard to be stopped. With perfect aim, you flung the soggy green mess through the air. It hit Larry right on the head slapping wetly and then staying there like a wig.

“LARRY! You look like a sexy swamp witch!”

“WHY is it sticking?!”

“You’ve been chosen!” You nearly fell over again, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard. “I can’t breathe, it's in your hair!”

Larry flopped forward, grabbing another handful of lakeweed. “You’re gonna regret this.”

“OH SHIT !”

Cue full on water war wrestling, neither of you winning, but neither of you wanting to stop either. Your laughter mixed with his, echoing off the lake surface like music.

Back on the beach, Sal looked to Ash and Todd. “You think they’re ever gonna just admit it?”

Ash shook her head. “Not a chance. We’re gonna have to hold a intervention.”

Todd smirked. “With PowerPoint slides.”

Sal nodded. “Title: ‘Just Kiss Already.’”

And in the water, Larry was still yelling something incoherent about vengeance while you tackled him again, both of you soaked and breathless, but smiling like idiots the whole time. The sun was starting to dip lower now, turning the lake golden. The heat had softened, and a lazy breeze skimmed the surface of the water as the group’s laughter finally died down.

Ash stretched with a yawn from where she lounged near the cooler. “Alright, freaks. I’m officially waterlogged and sun kissed. We’re heading out.”

You stopped halfway through dunking Larry and looked toward shore. “Aww, really? You guys suck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Todd said as he stood, brushing grass off his shorts. “Try not to summon any demons while we’re gone.”

“No promises!” you called back, saluting with two fingers and a grin.

Sal slung a bag over his shoulder, flashing his usual lowkey smile. “Don’t get arrested. Or possessed.”

“Those are both on you,” Larry shot back, swimming backward toward you.

Ash winked as she turned. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which, to be fair, isn’t much.”

You flipped her off lovingly. “Love you too, wife.”

One by one, your friends started heading back up the hill, chatting and laughing faintly as they disappeared past the trees. A little bit of quiet settled over the lake. The distant sounds of birds and the ripple of water returned. You turned back to Larry, floating lazily next to you now, hair slicked back and that seaweed still hanging from one ear.

“Well,” you said, drawing your hands through the water. “It’s just us now.”

Larry lifted a brow, his voice all drawl. “So it is. What ever will we do.”

You snorted, lightly kicking water toward him. “Careful. Alone time with me has been known to cause heart palpitations.”

He smirked, but there was something softer under it now something quieter. “I’ll take the risk.” You drifted beside each other for a few moments, water gently moving around your shoulders, both of you letting the silence stretch in that way it only can when it’s comfortable.

Then, you looked over at him, head tilted. “Thanks for staying.”

Larry met your gaze, slower now. “Yeah… ‘course.”

You were both quiet again, but something had shifted. The sun was brushing your cheekbones with gold, making your skin look warm and bright, and Larry found himself biting his cheek to keep from blurting out anything stupid. “I like this,” you said finally, voice a little softer than before. “Just… being here. With you.”

Larry stared for a second. “Yeah. Me too.”

You turned to float on your back, sighing. “It’s been a while since everything felt like… not too much.”

He let his eyes linger on you your silhouette against the setting sun, the little smile on your lips. “With you,” he said under his breath, “everything’s just the right amount of too much.”

You cracked an eye open. “What was that?”

Larry immediately splashed water at you. “Nothing. Shut up.”

You sputtered and lunged at him again, laughing like always but that little warmth stayed tucked between you both, like the lake itself had caught on and wasn’t quite ready to let the day end just yet. The lake was quieter now. The sun had nearly dipped behind the tree line, casting long, warm shadows across the water. The surface shimmered gold, broken only by the lazy ripples around you and Larry.

You swam up behind him silently, arms slipping around his bare waist, resting your chin on his shoulder. Larry blinked, startled for half a second before relaxing into your hold. His heart was pounding like a damn kick drum in his chest. You were so warm behind him, body pressed gently to his, the kind of closeness that meant everything and nothing depending on what it was.

that’s what was killing him. He tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on the lake horizon. He thought about all the times you teased him. The way you always called him hot. How you clung to him, ruffled his hair, kissed his cheek, left him breathless in a hundred different ways but never said what it all meant.

His fingers flexed a little in the water. He could hear Sal’s voice in his head. “it doesn't have to be like that I dont think”

Larry exhaled, his voice low and careful. “Hey.”

You hummed. “Mmh?”

“What is this?”

You blinked. “What’s what?”

“This.” He shifted just slightly in your hold. “Us. You and me.”

You slowly floated around to face him, confused. “Larry, what are you ?”

“I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, wet hair sticking to his fingers. His eyes were darting anywhere but you now. “All the flirting. The kissing. Is it just, like… for fun? Just for shits? Or do you actually… y’know… mean any of it?”

You blinked at him for a second. Really looking at him now. His brows were furrowed, his lips tight, but behind all that sarcasm and swagger, he looked scared. Scared of being the only one who’d fallen too hard. You didn’t answer with words at first. Instead, you swam in close, arms sliding up over his shoulders, fingers locking behind his neck. His breath caught instantly, chest stilling beneath the surface of the water.

You looked at him gently now, eyes soft, voice calm in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. “Larry… you’re not a joke to me.” He stared. “You’re everything I’ve wanted. Youre so fucking weird. I love the music you play. The dumb little drawings. The way you yell when you lose at Mario Kart.” You grinned. “The way you look at me like I built the whole damn sky.”

His lips parted, but nothing came out. You leaned in a little closer.

“I flirt with you because I can’t help it. I kiss your cheek because I’m not brave enough to kiss your mouth. But I want to. I’ve wanted to for a long time.” Larry was frozen. Staring at you like you’d just flipped the entire planet on its head. “Are you gonna say something,” you teased softly, “or just stand there looking like a drowned deer?”

Larry let out a choked, breathy laugh relieved, still processing.

“I just…” He swallowed. “I thought I was being an idiot.”

“You are an idiot,” you whispered, grinning. “But you’re my idiot.”

He smiled then. Really smiled. The kind he rarely let anyone see.

“Yeah?” he murmured.

You nodded, foreheads nearly touching now. “Yeah.”

And with the sun melting behind you and the water still as glass, Larry leaned in finally closing the space the two of you had been dancing around for years.