꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ SNOW DAY! ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru x Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru x Reader

────୨ৎ────

oh there is another guy that’s a love interest? well let’s just let it cook for a bit first

────୨ৎ────

₍^. .^₎⟆ Synopsis: In a world of curses and power struggles take center stage, you’ve always kept to the simple aspects of life. Focussing on your studies, your friendships and life in the dorms. Though everything changes when Geto challenges Gojo that he can’t win your heart and what happens when Geto realizes that Gojo needs to lose.

⋆˚✿˖° 1. Unintended Study Breaks

⋆˚✿˖° 2. I’ve Played these Games Before

⋆˚✿˖° 3. Men who listen to Mitski

⋆˚✿˖° 4. How it feels to be a girl and do no wrong

⋆˚✿˖° 5. “What kind of woman are you attracted to”

⋆˚✿˖° 6. You are a Cougar!!!

⋆˚✿˖°

⋆˚✿˖°

for my other works-> MAIN MASTERLIST

me tweaking out trying to find that one good fanfic

You and Hawks are both pro heroes and you approach him like:

You: “Did you hear that people have been shipping us?”

Hawks: “Really? That’s so weird.”

Hawks a week earlier, posting on a fake account: “HAS ANYONE EVER CONSIDERED HAWKS X Y/N?!”

Sal Fisher X Reader

₊✩‧₊ Stupid Beautiful Boy ₊‧✩₊

Another little drabble to satiate joining this fandom too late (like 3 years ago)

Masterlist

SYNOPSIS: one particularly incriminating sleep talking confession, Sal finds himself facing a much bigger challenge than a mosh pit: figuring out whether his best friend has been driving him crazy in more ways than one.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Sal fumbles with his keys, trying to unlock the door while still buzzing from the concert. “I think I still have someone else’s sweat on me,” he mutters, his voice muffled behind his mask.

You groan, pulling your sticky shirt away from your skin. “Yeah, well, I think I got elbowed in the ribs at least twice, so we’re both suffering.”

The door finally swings open, and you both step inside his apartment, kicking off your shoes with exhausted sighs. The air conditioning is a blessed relief against your overheated skin, and you tilt your head back, basking in the coolness.

Sal drags a hand through his damp blue hair. “I’m calling dibs on the shower.”

“No way,” you protest immediately. “I suffered through that pit just as much as you did.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “You wanna flip a coin for it?”

You cross your arms. “Rock, paper, scissors.”

A tense moment passes as you both raise your fists, exhausted but committed.

“One, two, three”

You both throw rock.

A pause. Then again.

Scissors.

Again.

Paper.

Sal groans. “This is ridiculous.”

You grin. “C’mon, Sal. ill be quick”

He shakes his head with a small chuckle and sighs in defeat. “Fine. Go ahead, but don’t use all the hot water.”

You shoot him a victorious smile and grab some spare clothes from the bag you brought, making a beeline for the bathroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear him flop onto the couch with a tired grunt.

The concert was amazing, but you both definitely underestimated how wrecked you’d be afterward.

Sal sinks further into the couch, exhaling a long, slow breath as the distant sound of running water fills the quiet apartment. His body still hums with the aftershocks of the concert his ears ringing faintly, muscles sore from jumping and shoving through the crowd. But he doesn’t mind. If anything, the exhaustion feels good, like proof of a night well spent.

He lifts a hand, staring at the faint smudges of marker and the slight bruising on his knuckles from who knows what. Probably from gripping the barricade too hard or shielding you when the crowd got too wild. His lips twitch slightly at the thought.

The whole night had been extreme in the best way screaming lyrics until his throat burned, shoving each other playfully when a favorite song came on, the way you grabbed his arm when the bass drop hit, eyes wide with exhilaration. He hadn’t let loose like that in a long time, but with you, it was easy. It always was.

His gaze drifts toward the bathroom door as a faint laugh escapes from inside, your voice muffled by the water. Probably replaying some dumb moment from the night. He finds himself smiling before he even realizes it.

You were his best friend. He knew that, but sometimes, like tonight, it hit him differently. In a way that made him stop and really appreciate it. How natural it was with you, how much fun you always managed to have together. Even when you were both dead on your feet, covered in sweat and bruises, you still managed to bicker over a shower like it was the most important thing in the world.

Sal shifts on the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The exhaustion is settling in now, heavy but comfortable. The sound of the shower, the lingering echoes of the concert in his head, and the knowledge that, no matter how wrecked you both were, you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Yeah. Tonight was a good night.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sal lets out a deep sigh as he sinks onto his bed, the tension in his muscles easing now that he’s fresh out of the shower. The warmth lingers on his skin, his damp hair clinging slightly to his neck as he leans back against the pillows. The night’s events still swirl in his mind the music, the energy of the crowd, the way you had grabbed his hand in excitement when the band played your favorite song. He huffs a quiet chuckle at the thought, shaking his head.

He’s never been the loudest person, never the one to take up too much space in a room, but somehow, with you, Larry, Ash, and Todd, things changed. The sharp edges of his solitude softened over time, replaced with sarcastic quips, easy laughter, and a quiet warmth he hadn’t realized he was missing. With you especially, it was different. You challenged him, teased him, and made life more interesting in ways he hadn’t expected.

He’s still lost in thought when something heavy slams into him.

His breath leaves him in a choked sound, and suddenly, he’s flat on his back, hands instinctively flying to steady whatever or whoever just tackled him.

“Boo!”

Sal barely has time to process what’s happening before his eyes snap up to meet yours. His heart slams against his ribs, not just from the jump scare but from the realization that you’re on top of him.

Straddling him.

Your weight is pressing into his lap, hands planted on either side of his chest as you grin down at him, absolutely reveling in his reaction. His fingers twitch where they’ve landed on your waist, the warmth of your skin seeping through your clothes and straight into his bloodstream.

“What the” His voice is rough, laced with disbelief as his pulse thrums wildly beneath his skin. He doesn’t stumble over his words he’s too used to your antics for that but there’s a tightness in his throat, a warmth creeping up the back of his neck.

You cackle, shifting your weight slightly, and his fingers tighten just slightly before he stops himself. He wills himself to stay still, to not react, but it’s so damn hard when you’re sitting on him like this, looking down at him with that mischievous glint in your eyes.

“You should’ve seen your reaction!” you tease, eyes alight with amusement. “I swear, you levitated for a second.”

Sal exhales sharply through his nose, willing his heart rate to slow. He doesn’t have a mirror, but he knows his ears are red. His mask thankfully hides most of his expression, but his body is betraying him in ways he can’t quite control.

“Seriously?” he mutters, voice edged with dry exasperation. “where did you even go?”

You shrug, still grinning. “a magician will never reveal her secrets”

He scoffs but doesn’t push you off. His hands are still resting on your waist, unmoving, like he’s afraid that if he does anything more, you’ll notice notice the way his breath is just slightly uneven, the way his heart is hammering in his chest in a way that has nothing to do with being startled.

“What? You didn’t miss me?” you tease, tilting your head.

Sal’s breath hitches, but he recovers quickly, rolling his eyes. “I was wondering where you went,” he admits, voice still steady despite the warmth creeping up his neck. “Didn’t expect you to attack me, though.”

“You’re fine,” you say dismissively, shifting again, and fuck. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay still, but he knows you have to feel the way his hands flex at your sides.

You smirk down at him. “You’re pretty comfy, y’know.”

Sal narrows his eyes, his grip finally tightening not rough, just enough to remind you who exactly you’re messing with. “(Y/N),” he warns, voice low.

You snicker but finally roll off of him, flopping onto the bed beside him. He exhales, rubbing a hand down his head, trying to will away the warmth that refuses to leave his skin.

“I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters.

You nudge his shoulder, grinning. “Yeah, but you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”

Sal hesitates, staring at the ceiling for a moment. His chest feels tight in a way he can’t quite put into words.

“…Yeah,” he admits quietly. “I would.”

A comfortable silence settles between you as you lie next to Sal, the only sounds in the room being the distant hum of the apartment’s heating and the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift to get comfortable. Sal is still staring at the ceiling, his fingers idly tapping against his stomach like he’s trying to ground himself after what just happened.

You smirk to yourself, still feeling victorious over your little sneak attack. He so wasn’t expecting that. But now that you’ve had your fun, exhaustion is creeping in, your body finally registering how wrecked you are from the concert.

Still, sleep doesn’t sound quite appealing yet.

You turn your head toward him, resting your cheek against his pillow. “Wanna put on some horror movies while we crash?”

Sal finally looks over at you, brow raising slightly. “Horror? Thought you’d be too tired to handle anything intense.”

You shrug. “I dunno, something about falling asleep to creepy background noise sounds nice.” You pause, then smirk. “Unless you’re scared.”

Sal scoffs, shaking his head. “You wish I was scared.” He shifts, reaching for the remote on his nightstand. “Fine, but if you pass out in the first twenty minutes, I’m making fun of you in the morning.”

“You act like that’s never happened before.”

He chuckles under his breath, scrolling through the streaming options before settling on something. The screen casts a dim glow across the room as the opening credits roll, shadows flickering across the walls. You settle deeper into the blankets, already feeling sleep tugging at you despite your earlier enthusiasm.

Sal glances over at you once more, taking in the way your eyes are half. lidded but still determined to stay awake. He shakes his head fondly before turning back to the screen.

Yeah, he’s not gonna admit it, but he kind of hopes you doze off first. It gives him an excuse to stay up just a little longer, just to make sure you’re comfortable.

The movie plays on, its eerie soundtrack weaving through the room like a distant hum. Sal can tell you’re barely holding on, your breathing slowing, body going lax against the mattress. He smirks slightly, shaking his head as he shifts to get more comfortable.

With a sigh, he reaches up and unhooks his prosthetic, placing it carefully on the nightstand. He always feels a little more exposed without it, even around you, despite the fact that you’ve seen his face before. He knows you don’t care hell, you’re probably one of the only people who never made him feel weird about it but still, old habits die hard.

He leans back, exhaling through his nose, but then he feels it your hand, soft and warm, ghosting over his cheek.

Sal stiffens slightly, his breath catching as your fingers trace the rough ridges of scar tissue, the parts of him he never liked showing. Your touch is slow, careful, almost reverent in your half asleep state. His pulse jumps, and he nearly pulls away out of instinct, but then.

“You’re my stupid, beautiful boy…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, thick with sleep, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone before your hand goes slack, slipping down as you fully drift off.

Sal just stares at you, frozen in place. His mind is blank, save for the echo of your words ringing in his ears. His heart is pounding now, hammering so hard he swears you’ll wake up and hear it.

You’re asleep. Completely gone. No teasing, no jokes just a sleepy, genuine thought slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

And it hits him harder than anything ever has.

Sal swallows thickly, blinking a few times before cautiously reaching up and gently moving your hand away from his face. Not because he wants to god, no but because if he lets you keep touching him like that, he might actually die from how much it’s messing with him.

He watches you for a moment, the way your breathing has evened out, your face relaxed in sleep. His chest feels tight, warm, conflicted. He doesn’t know what to do with what you just said, doesn’t know how to process it when he’s spent so long convincing himself that you…

He shakes his head to himself, exhaling as he settles back down. He’ll think about it later. Right now, you’re here, curled up beside him like you belong there, and that’s enough.

With one last glance at you, Sal closes his eyes, listening to the faint sounds of the movie and the steady rhythm of your breathing.

Her stupid, beautiful boy.

Yeah.

He’s doomed.

As the movie plays on, its low hum fading into the background, Sal’s mind isn’t really on the plot anymore. His thoughts keep drifting back to what you whispered in your sleep“You’re my stupid, beautiful boy.”

You’ve never really talked about relationships not in any serious way. Sure, there had been the lighthearted teasing, the playful banter between the two of you, the way you’d poke fun at each other and keep things casual. But beneath all of that… the connection between you two had always been something more. Something unspoken but there, lingering beneath the surface like an uncharted tide.

In all the time you’d known each other, you’d never crossed that line, never even hinted at it. You were close hell, you were probably closer than most people would ever get, in a way that felt natural and effortless. But neither of you had ever really acknowledged this.

This growing sense of warmth that seemed to be building between you two.

You weren’t just his best friend anymore. No, it felt different now. It felt like it was shifting, like maybe you both were standing on the edge of something you hadn’t yet named. The way you’d touched his face, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about your words those things weren’t casual. And it wasn’t just tonight.

Every day you spent together, every moment of shared laughter and easy comfort, seemed to push you both closer to something real. Sal could feel it, too. The way his chest tightened when you smiled, the way his heart beat just a little faster when your hand brushed his. He had no words for it, and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted them. Not yet. Not when things were so perfect this way, untouched by labels or expectations.

But with every passing day, it became harder to ignore. Harder to pretend that this whatever this was wasn’t becoming something more. Something that meant more.

His thoughts trail off again as he glances at you, your body still curled beside him, your breathing slow and steady. You’re so close, and yet… a thousand unspoken things hang in the air between you.

Sal doesn’t have answers. Hell, he’s not even sure what he wants right now. But it’s getting harder to push down that tiny, persistent thought, the one that wonders if this is really just friendship anymore.

And it’s getting harder to ignore the way he feels like it’s been real for a long time now, even if neither of you have said it out loud.

For the first time, Sal wonders if maybe just maybe he’s been in love with you all along.

But as the quiet stretches on and the movie finally fades to its credits, he closes his eyes and lets the feeling sit with him. There’s no rush. No need to make it anything more than what it is for now.

But damn, it’s getting harder to pretend it’s just friendship.

[After you tackle Sal onto the bed]

Sal: [deadpan] You do realize one day I’m just going to let you fall, right?

You: Pfft, no you won’t.

Sal: And what makes you so sure?

You: [grinning] Because I know that you are painfully in love with me and you thrive off of the weird tension that we have.

Sal:

Hizashi Yamada X Reader

𓇢𓆸☾☼ Fighting the Pro 𓇢𓆸☾☼

This one is very angsty. SLIGHT DEBRIEF. The reader is a bit of an ass. Not for having unwarranted emotions but taking it out on him is very unwarranted. Being a pro at such a young age willllllll have an effect on you. It’s always when you’re young you feel like you’re running out of time.

masterlist

SYNOPSIS: You both are very grotesquely in love. Though early relationship there was definitely over compensation. A desperate cling for any type of normalcy. Though when you’re a pro in the top 10 and it becomes too much?

The room was filled with the heat of your bodies moving against each other, the air still thick with the remnants of heavy breathing and whispered praises. Hizashi lay sprawled beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, golden locks fanned out over the pillow in a complete mess. His clothes had been discarded somewhere on the floor, long forgotten in the heat of the moment, and right now you’re watching the reveal to the fresh, angry red marks you had left on his skin.

His fingers lazily traced over your hip, drawing mindless patterns as he hummed in satisfaction. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, voice rough and pleased. “You make me want to do so many things to you.”

You smirked, stretching like a cat leaning closer to his face “You’re still talking, aren’t you? start doing”

He let out a breathy laugh before rolling over to press a lingering kiss against your jaw. “Okay, okay, you ask and shall receive.”

In a moment youre grinding down onto him. Feeling him beneath you so hard and ready for you. A low groan left his mouth as he pulls you close and kisses you roughly. The two of you wrapped into each other, Who knows how many rounds this has been? neither of you in any hurry to move. You want each other and need each other. But then, just as you were gripping your fingers through his hair, Hizashi stiffened.

“Oh, shit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He shot up so fast he nearly rolled off the bed. “I was supposed to meet Shouta and Nemuri like” He grabbed his phone, eyes widening. “Twenty minutes ago! Oh my God.”

You snorted as he picked you off of him and scrambled to find his clothes, nearly face planting in the process. “zashi, be careful ”

“Babe,” he groaned, tugging on his pants with the coordination of a newborn deer, “you were literally sucking my soul out of my body of course I forgot!”

You only grinned. “I dont know if this is my fault, I had no idea you were seeing them today”

Hizashi groaned dramatically. “You’re unreal.”

But despite his rush, he still took a second to lean down and kiss you, lingering just long enough to make it clear he was reluctant to go. Then, shaking off the daze you had put him in, he throws you down to lay and puts a blanket over you. he threw on his jacket, grabbed his sunglasses, and bolted for the door. only to stop midway and run a hand through his already wrecked hair.

“Shit. I dont look too messy?”

You gave him a once over, eyes trailing over the mess of his clothes, his still kissed bruised lips, and the unmistakable marks you’d left on his neck. His golden hair was an absolute mess, his signature sunglasses were askew, and the high collar of his jacket barely concealed the array of fresh, bright, unapologetically placed hickeys decorating his neck like a victory banner. He moved in slow, stumbling motions, haphazardly fastening his belt with shaky fingers while still catching his breath. The man looked absolutely wrecked in the most smugly satisfied way possible.

You, on the other hand, lounged on the bed, completely unbothered, watching him trip over his own boots in a daze.

“Zashi, you’re late,” you reminded lazily, watching his half panicked, half pussy drunken movements as he tried to sober himself up.

“I knowwww holy shit I can still feel you on my everywhere” he groaned, shuddering dramatically as he ran a hand through his already ruined hair. “Babe, you don’t understand I think you rewired my brain with how much you were moaning. Like, I straight up can’t function.”

“You functioned just fine earlier,” you teased.

Hizashi let out a choked laugh, looking absolutely done as he threw on his sunglasses and stumbled out the door.

He groaned. “I love you really but my gooooood”

And with that, he stumbled out the door, muttering curses under his breath as he rushed to meet his very unimpressed friends.

Hizashi Yamada was struggling.

𓇢𓆸☾☼

By the time he arrived at the bar, he was quiet, an absolute rarity. He just slid into the booth across from Aizawa, shoulders slumped, nursing his drink like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

Aizawa squinted at him, immediately clocking the very obvious “I got busy before coming here or I was coming before coming here” energy radiating off of him. “The hell is wrong with you?”

Hizashi blinked at him slowly before bringing a hand up to rub his ear.

“Sorry, what?”

Aizawa’s eye twitched. “I said—”

“Yeah, yeah, no, no, can you say it again? Sorry, I can’t hear properly right now” Hizashi paused for dramatic effect, tilting his head and flashing a smug, self satisfied grin, “cause my baby kept moaning in my ear.”

Aizawa looked like he was actively regretting his life choices. Yamada had never been quiet a day in his life, and now he shows up to their long awaited catch up night looking like he’d been personally delivered into the hands of God??

“Don’t bring that nasty shit here,” Aizawa muttered, immediately reaching for his drink as if he could drown out the mental image.

Across the table, Midnight snorted into her glass while Mic just sighed, swirling his drink, utterly unbothered.

“Hey, man,” he added, smirking, “I’m just sayin’ if I ask you to repeat stuff tonight, it’s ’cause of that.” He pointed vaguely to his ear. “Just wrecked. Completely shattered. I got, like, post orgasmic tinnitus.”

Aizawa gagged.

“Leave,” he deadpanned.

“I’m already sitting, dude, what do you—”

“Leave.”

The three of them had been doing this for years this easy back and forth, this relentless teasing, this balance between Midnight’s playful mischief, Mic’s boundless energy, and Aizawa’s gruff exhaustion. It was the kind of friendship that had been built in the trenches of late night patrols, shared exhaustion, and an unshakable loyalty that had long since turned into family.

They were opposites in so many ways. Hizashi was loud, vibrant, the type to light up a room just by existing. Kayama was playful, charming, always knowing exactly how to push buttons and make people flustered just for fun. And Aizawa? Aizawa was the anchor whether he realized it or not, the long suffering soul who sighed, groaned, and rolled his eyes through every ridiculous conversation but never actually left because at the end of the day, these were his people.

And right now? His people were absolutely insufferable.

“Shouta,” Midnight gasped between giggles, still reeling over the absolute state of Mic’s neck. “Look at him again. Just one more time. I promise it’s worth it.”

Hizashi just smirked, unfazed, sipping his drink. The smugness radiating off of him was so dense it could be measured in metric tons.

Aizawa, meanwhile, looked like he was one more ridiculous comment away from throwing his entire drink in Mic’s face and walking out. “I’m this close to never seeing you again,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. Though everyone ag that table knew he’d kneel over and die first before abandoning his friends.

Across the table, Midnight was watching.

And grinning.

“Y’know,” she mused, swirling her glass, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people this in love before and it not be for show.”

Mic perked up immediately, cocking his head like a golden retriever that had just been called a good boy. “Aww, Kayamaaa,” he drawled, resting his chin in his palm with the dopiest lovestruck grin. “That’s so sweet”

“Yeah they’ve been obsessed with each other since she interned at the school” Aizawa cut in dryly.

“No, no, let her cook!” Mic shot back, waving him off before turning back to Midnight with stars in his eyes. “Go on, tell me how in love I am!”

Midnight snorted, glancing at Aizawa, who looked like he was contemplating his life choices. “I’m serious, though,” she continued. “Most couples? You can tell when it’s for show, or when it’s a phase, or when it’s gonna burn out in a year. But you?” She pointed at Hizashi with the utmost conviction, looking a little proud.

“You act like a damn lovesick idiot all the time. It’s gross but in, like, a good way.”

Mic beamed, looking stupidly proud. “I am a lovesick idiot! And it’s so good!”

Aizawa groaned, rubbing his temples harder, already regretting showing up. “have you guys always been this way?.”

“No, no, shou, listen,” Hizashi said, grabbing his arm. “She’s spittin’ facts! Spittin’! Like, I am so in love, man. So incredibly”

“Drink your damn whiskey and shut up,” Aizawa interrupted, yanking his arm away.

Hizashi chuckled, leaning back in his seat, his expression still drunkenly soft despite the teasing.

“Can’t help it,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “When you’re this happy, it kinda just… leaks out.”

Midnight just smirked, taking another sip of her drink. “Though How did you get to this point? Lord knows momma cant keep a relationship”

Hizashi paused, his goofy grin faltering for just a second. He took a deep swig of his drink, letting the sharp burn settle in his throat before speaking.

“It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows at first,” he admitted, leaning back with a sigh. His gaze softened, a rare, unguarded vulnerability creeping into his eyes as he stared at the table in front of him. “We were kinda, uh… figuring things out for a while. You know how I am. Always too loud, too impulsive, a little… well, a lot chaotic.” He shot a pointed look at Aizawa, who grunted in response, clearly trying to keep a neutral face.

“And she’s… different,” Hizashi continued, his voice lowering to something more serious. “She’s got this calm, steady presence about her. Makes me want to be better, do better, you know?”

Midnight raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but not surprised. “You two are opposites, huh?”

Hizashi chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. It took us some time to get there, but eventually, we realized that maybe we did have something. Not just some casual fling or whatever, but… real feelings, y’know? And I was scared at first scared I was gonna mess it up, scared it wouldn’t be enough for her, that I’d let her down. But the moment I made that decision when I finally decided to stop running and put in the work? I could feel it click. Everything just made sense.”

Aizawa, who had been nursing his drink quietly, looked over at him with a narrowed gaze. “So you put in the effort? Actually put in the effort?”

Hizashi’s face softened even more as he nodded, eyes glimmering with sincerity. “Yeah. I did. We both did. And I think… that’s what it’s all about, right? Real love isn’t just the butterflies and passion. It’s the messy stuff, the growth, the parts where you have to put in effort, even when you’re exhausted or scared.”

𓇢𓆸☾☼

The apartment smelled like vanilla candles and takeout.

You barely had time to drop your bag before you saw it the table set, dimmed lights, another date night waiting for you. Like you hadn’t just gotten back from another mission, exhausted, bruised, and barely able to think straight. Like you weren’t still standing in the doorway, wearing the same uniform you’d been in for the last 48 hours, while Hizashi stood in the kitchen, grinning, oblivious to the storm building behind your eyes.

“Welcome home, babe!” His voice was bright, too bright, like he hadn’t noticed the tension in your shoulders, the exhaustion dragging you down like lead weights. And then he walked over, brushing a kiss to your temple before leading you further inside. “I got us reservations at that new place downtown! Figured we could get dressed up, have a nice night”

Something inside you snapped. It wasn’t just tonight. It wasn’t just this date. It was all of it. Every carefully planned dinner. Every perfect night out. Every photo ready, scripted moment that felt less like your life and more like some magazine romance article.

Every time you came home, and instead of letting you breathe, he tried to fill the space, like he was terrified of what would happen if he didn’t. And suddenly, you hated it. Hated all of it.

“Hizashi, stop.”

The words came out sharp, harsher than you meant. But you meant them.

Hizashi froze, blinking. “What?”

You exhaled hard, shaking your head, dropping your bag onto the floor with a thud. “This. The dates. The perfect little nights out every time I come back.”

You finally turned to him, voice sharp, cutting. “Can you just stop acting like we have to make up for lost time?”

His expression faltered. Just a flicker. But you saw it.

“…Babe, I just”

“You just what?” you snapped. “Try to force us into some picture perfect couple routine every time I walk through the door? Like it’s some checklist you have to complete?”

His brow furrowed, mouth pressing into a thin line. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

He let out a breath, stepping closer, but you stepped back, and that that’s when his face changed. That’s when his expression shuttered, something wounded flashing in his golden eyes.

“I’m trying,” he said, voice lower now. Softer. “I’m trying to make this work.” that that only made the anger burn hotter.

“By doing things that don’t even feel like us?” You gestured around, at the perfectly set table, at the candlelight, at the expectation hanging in the air. “Hizashi, when did we ever need to be like this?”

He flinched, just slightly. “I just thought—”

“You thought you had to prove something ,” you cut in, voice biting. “You thought we had to act like some stupid, perfect couple every time I came home so it felt like things were normal.”

“Because things aren’t normal!” His voice spiked, frustration cracking through now. “Because I never know when you’re coming back! I never know when it’s the last time I’m gonna see you when it’s the last time we get to do this!” His chest rose and fell, breath unsteady, fingers twitching at his sides.

It felt like the walls were closing in, trapping the anger between them, thick and suffocating. The air was hot, heavy with the weight of words that had been building for too long, now finally crashing down all at once.

Hizashi stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, hands curled into fists like he was holding himself together. His sunglasses were gone, thrown onto the coffee table in the heat of the argument, leaving his golden eyes bare, raw with frustration, with something wounded underneath.

“You don’t even try to make time for us!” he had yelled first, voice too loud, cutting through the silence like a blade. “Do you even care anymore, or are we just gonna keep treating this like some long distance fling?”

The accusation hit hard, knocking the air from your lungs. Because it wasn’t true. yet the way he said it like he truly, honestly believed it made something in you snap.

“Don’t put this all on me, Mic!” you shot back, stepping forward, voice sharp, biting. “I’m doing everything I can! You think I like being away all the time? You think I like coming back just to feel like a stranger in my own relationship?”

His face darkened, jaw clenching. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It sure as hell feels like it!”

That stopped him.Hizashi had been trying too hard to make up for lost time. Too many perfect dates, too many candlelit dinners, too many picture-perfect moments that felt scripted, forced.

None of it felt real.

Not because you didn’t love him. But because it made you feel like he was holding onto an idea of you, rather than the person you actually were.

So you finally said it.

“These idealistic Pinterest romance novel date? Its fake. What happened to us doing stuff we’re passionate about? What happened to real life things. It feels like you don’t love me, Hizashi. You love the idea of me.”

The second the words left your mouth, you saw the exact moment they landed saw the way his breath caught, saw the flicker of real, genuine hurt cross his face. Then, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head, his voice lower now, strained.

“…That’s not fair.”

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t angry. It was broken. And that was worse.

“You think I don’t love you?” he muttered, running a hand over his face, his voice shaking. “You think I’m just… what? Holding onto some fantasy version of you? That all of this doesn’t mean anything to me?”

You didn’t answer.

Because you didn’t know how.

Because you didn’t know if you were wrong.

Hizashi let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just something exhausted, something tired of fighting for you to see him.

“Yeah, maybe I’ve been trying too hard,” he admitted, his shoulders slumping. “Maybe I don’t know how to make this work. But do you know what it feels like to wait for you? To go to bed every night not knowing? To feel like I have to fight just to get a piece of you before you’re gone again?”

His voice cracked on the last word.

And suddenly, you saw it. The fear. Not just frustration. Not just exhaustion. He was afraid. Afraid that one day, you wouldn’t come back. That one day, there wouldn’t be anything left to come back to.

And that realization hit you harder than anything else.

“Don’t you dare act like you don’t understand where I’m coming from,” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ve been a pro hero much longer than I have. You were just like this when you were my age.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Hizashi!” The words came out sharp, louder than you intended. “You did the exact same thing when you were first starting out.”

Hizashi flinched, his mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you weren’t done.

“I care about you so much,” you said, your voice quiet now, more vulnerable than you wanted it to sound. “But right now? I can’t. I can’t pretend like everything’s fine when I’m always on the go, running from one mission to the next. I don’t have the luxury of playing house or acting like I’m some domestic goddess. I’m just trying to stay alive out there.”

His expression softened for a brief moment, but you could feel the distance growing between you. The things you were saying weren’t just about him anymore they were about you. And the pain in your chest deepened as you spoke the next words.

“I’m not like you, Hizashi. I don’t have time to pretend like everything’s okay, because out there, it’s not. I need to focus. I need to figure out how to be the best damn hero I can be. And when I come back, I don’t want to be distracted by a fake reality. I just want to see you .”

Hizashi stood silent, his hands hanging by his sides. You could feel him pulling away not physically, but in his heart, somewhere deep down.

“Do you understand?” you asked softly, though your words came out barely a whisper. “I need you to understand. I don’t want to lose you, but I have to be who I am. I need to help people. But i need you”

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence between you both. Then, finally, he took a step back, rubbing his face, and the hurt on his face was so palpable it made your chest ache.

“You used to be this guy,” you said, stepping closer, your voice softer now but still intense. “The guy I fell in love with the weird guy, the one who spoke before he thought, who couldn’t hold back his excitement for the smallest things. The guy who dragged me to concerts, the one who’d make me laugh until my stomach hurt, and we didn’t care what anyone thought. We didn’t need all this,” you gestured to the dinner table, the candles, the perfect setup. “We didn’t need these fake, picture perfect nights. Why can’t it just be like it used to be? Why can’t it be the concerts and the lighthearted silliness? The way we used to be?”

His eyes softened, but there was a flicker of something else in his gaze frustration, and it broke you.

“You don’t want me anymore?” he asked, his voice cracking with the words.

“No!” You shook your head, feeling the anger slip away, only to be replaced by something much more painful. “I don’t want the version of you that’s trying so hard to be something you’re not. I don’t want this perfect idea of us, this… this facade.” You took a step closer, now within arm’s reach, and your voice softened. “I want the guy I fell in love with, the one who didn’t care what anyone thought, the one who made everything fun, even when things weren’t perfect. I want that guy, Hizashi.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze never leaving you, as if he was trying to piece together everything you’d said.

“But I’m trying,” he murmured finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m trying to give us the life we never had, a chance to be normal, to have what other people have. You deserve that.”

The pain in his voice was almost enough to make your heart shatter.

“I don’t want what other people have,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now, full of raw honesty. “I just want us. The way we used to be. No facades. No pretending. I just want to come home to you, Hizashi. The real you.”

He didn’t speak for a while, but the silence wasn’t cold anymore. It was heavy, fragile, like the two of you were standing on the edge of something, waiting for it to break.

Finally, he took a step closer, his hand reaching out slowly, unsure. When his fingers brushed yours, there was an undeniable connection a silent understanding that wasn’t about perfection, but about the truth.

The silence between you and Hizashi was heavy, thick with emotions that neither of you knew how to untangle. The space between you felt like it was closing in, suffocating and full of unspoken words. You both stood there, neither moving, just staring at each other, a tension building that you couldn’t shake.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, each beat a reminder of everything you were trying to say but couldn’t. You wanted to scream, to demand understanding, but it was like you were trapped in your own mind. Hizashi stood there, his golden eyes not leaving yours, his face tense, unsure of what to do next. He looked at you for a long moment, his breath shaky, but he didn’t say anything, just continued to watch you, his chest rising and falling. You could feel the pain in the air between you, and it made your throat tighten. He swallowed, his eyes darkened with some emotion you couldn’t read, but you could feel the intensity of it. Then, slowly, almost like he was unsure if you’d let him, he stepped forward.

“Can I” he started, his voice raw.

You couldn’t answer, your chest tightening with the emotions you’d been holding in, and before you knew it, he was close, pulling you into his arms. You didn’t resist, not even a little. You melted into him, your body shaking slightly with the rawness of the moment. He held you tight, his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of him filling you up.

And that’s when it hit.

The dam inside you broke. The tears came suddenly, hot and fast, as if your body had been holding them back for so long, and now it couldn’t stop. You didn’t even try to control it, didn’t even care if he saw the hurt on your face. It was all coming out, everything you had buried for so long, all the pain and frustration, the weight of your choices, your fear of losing him.

You sobbed against his chest, the sound raw and jagged, as if the very act of crying was too much, too overwhelming. Hizashi’s grip tightened around you, his hand smoothing over your back in soft, reassuring strokes. You could feel his breath on your skin, his heart beating in time with yours.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

He didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he just held you tighter, as if he was anchoring you to him, keeping you grounded in that moment, in the safety of his arms. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice low and full of gentle emotion.

“All I’ve ever wanted,” he said softly, his voice cracking just a little, “was to love you.”

The words hit you like a wave, crashing into the storm of emotions inside you, and you cried harder, the weight of them finally sinking in. You pulled him closer, your hands gripping his shirt, as if you were afraid he might slip away, like you were losing everything.

“I want to be the one who’s there for you,” he whispered into your hair, his voice trembling slightly. “I know this was probably too much it felt weird even for me, but all I’ve ever wanted is to love you. To be the guy who’s here for you, even when things are tough. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face streaked with tears, your eyes red. But you saw it then the tenderness in his gaze, the raw sincerity in his expression. It was like he was showing you a side of himself that he’d been hiding, afraid you wouldn’t accept.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, the words coming from deep inside. “I just… I just don’t know how to make it all work. Everything is so hard and I ruined the best thing I had”

Hizashi wiped away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “We don’t have to have it all figured out. We just need to be real with each other. Unconditionally.”

You nodded, your chest still tight with emotion, but the tears had slowed, the weight in your heart lightened just a little by the sincerity in his words.

“I just love you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, but steady. “Even when I don’t know what I’m doing. Even when it gets messy.”

He smiled, the smile that always made you feel like you were home. “Always,” he whispered. “I will always love you.”

𓇢𓆸☾☼

“Damn,” Midnight hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward. “That’s some real shit, Mic. But I get it. You two are a damn team.”

Hizashi looked back up at her, a genuine smile stretching across his face as he thought about you. “Exactly. It’s not just about the good times, yeah, it’s a little messy, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

Aizawa snorted, shaking his head but still smirking. “I’ll believe it when I see it last. You’re not exactly known for your ‘long term commitment’ skills.”

“Well, you’ll be seeing it, Shou,” Hizashi grinned, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna make sure of it.” He took another sip of his drink, his usual energetic self returning, albeit with a soft, fond gleam in his eyes. “I guess the real lesson here is that when you find someone worth it, you fight for it. You don’t just let it slip away because it’s hard. And hell, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Midnight leaned back, tapping her glass thoughtfully. “You really do love her, Mic. Who knew you had it in you?”

He smirked, now more like his usual self. “I’ve always had it in me. Just needed the right person to bring it out.”

Aizawa just sighed again, rubbing his eyes, but there was a slight, almost imperceptible hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m still not hearing about this again, right?”

“Of course not,” Hizashi teased, raising his glass with a wink. “But maybe next time, I’ll bring her along so you can see what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, right,” Aizawa muttered, reaching for his drink. “Just don’t bring any more of those details with you.”

Hizashi winked again, fully aware of the teasing but secretly grateful for his friends’ support, in their own way. He wasn’t just in love he was building something that mattered. And that meant everything.

Mic turned to him, utterly radiating joy. “Oh, babe, c’mon, don’t be jealous.”

Aizawa turned slowly, his exhausted, soul deep stare locking onto Mic like a curse.

“…What?”

Mic just smirked. “If you want me to kiss you on the ear too, all you gotta do is ask, babe.”

Aizawa physically recoiled, looking betrayed, while Midnight shrieked with laughter, grabbing Aizawa’s sleeve like she needed him for support.

“This is the worst night of my life,” Aizawa muttered.

“You say that every time we go out,” Midnight teased.

“Because it’s true every time.”

And yet he was still here. Because as much as he liked to complain, as much as they actively tested his patience, these were the people he’d risked his life beside. The people who knew him too well, who had been there through every high and low, and who, despite their insufferable antics, would have his back without question.

Even if they were giggling like teenagers at Mic’s hickey covered neck.

I can’t get this fic out of my mind. Thank you @mytanuki-kun 🙏🏻😌✨💕

Astarion X Reader

✨Reader is Horn✨

masterlist

funnily enough, there is no sex in this fic. Just a short drabble of communication.

The campfire crackled under the dim twilight, casting long shadows across scattered bedrolls and worn boots. The air was still thick with the scent of the last skirmish blood, sweat, and a hint of singed hair. Everyone was winding down. You sat cross legged near the fire, arms resting on your knees, deep in thought. Astarion lounged nearby, wine cup in hand, eyes glittering in the firelight. He watched you closely, as he often did, as though trying to read your every thought like a well worn book.

Then, with all the casual weight of commenting on the weather, you announced. “I think I’m going to have sex.”

Silence. Even Lae’zel paused mid sharpen, casting you a side glance. Astarion straightened slightly, eyebrows lifting in both amusement and interest.

“Are we now?” he drawled, setting down his cup. “Well, I’m flattered. Not surprised, of course but flattered.”

You blinked. “What?”

Astarion leaned forward, lips curling. “Darling, there’s no need for coyness. If you need someone to… satisfy your sudden urges, I’d be happy to oblige. Gods know I’ve been waiting for you to finally admit it.”

You stared at him for a beat, then snorted. “Oh. No. I wasn’t talking about you.”

The silence that followed was somehow louder than the last one. Astarion’s smile twitched, just a little. “I beg your pardon?”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “I was thinking… probably Gale.”

Astarion looked like you’d just slapped him with a wet sock.

“Gale?” he repeated, aghast. “You’re choosing the walking arcane lecture over me? That man has more monologues than passion, and his idea of foreplay is a history lesson.”

“He’s sweet,” you said simply, pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. “I don’t know. I just feel like I need to get it out of my system. Nothing deep. Just… need to do something irrational for once.”

“Gale,” Astarion muttered again, then let out a sound between a scoff and a laugh. “This is some sort of fever dream. Or perhaps a punishment from the gods.”

You smiled. “Astarion, not everything is about you.”

He grinned back, sharp and wounded. “It should be.”

You stood up, stretching. “Anyway. I haven’t decided yet. Maybe I’ll sleep on it.”

“Oh, by all means, take your time. I’ll just be here, knowing I was passed over for a man who talks more to his floating book than to actual people.”

You gave him a pat on the head like an annoyed cat and turned toward Gale’s tent.

Behind you, Astarion called out, “If he starts reciting poetry during the act, run.”

The fire had long since crackled into glowing embers, its warmth now a quiet hum in the cool night. The camp had settled into silence, the sounds of rustling blankets and steady breathing drifting in from the other tents. Astarion sat alone, still where you’d left him, wine cup now untouched.

He stared into the dark woods, eyes unfocused. He wasn’t thinking about monsters or traps. No. Something far more unsettling had taken root in his mind.

You. You and your ridiculous declaration. You and your infuriating unpredictability. You and… Gale. He scoffed aloud, quiet and bitter. Gale, with his grand words and glowing hands. Gale, who probably asked for consent like it was a spell component.

It doesn’t make sense, Astarion thought, fingers curling slightly at his side. You’re allowed to bed whoever you wish. You owe me nothing. I never claimed to He paused. Frowned.

“Gods,” he whispered into the dark, realization dawning like a slow, creeping horror. “I’m jealous.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue. He almost laughed him, jealous? It was laughable. He’d never needed anyone before. Never cared if someone wandered off after a flirtation, or if they found pleasure in another’s arms. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Pleasure without consequence. Desire without attachment. But tonight, watching you casually toss aside what he thought was a mutual spark no, knew was had stirred something ugly and unfamiliar in him.

“I don’t get jealous,” he said aloud to the night, trying the words again, firmer this time. “I don’t do jealousy. It’s beneath me.”

But the fire in his chest said otherwise. It wasn’t just bruised ego. That he could handle. He wanted you to choose him. Not out of convenience. Not out of need. But because you wanted him, just him. He leaned back against a log, running a hand through his hair with a low groan. “This is an absolute disaster.”

For the first time in centuries, Astarion wasn’t sure how to play the game. Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to play at all. He wanted to be with you. But how the hells did he even begin?

Morning crept into the camp slowly, light spilling over bedrolls and dewy grass. Birds chirped far too cheerfully for anyone’s liking especially Astarion’s. He sat on a rock near the fire pit, legs crossed elegantly, skin glowing like always, and of course he looked amazing. Until you walked out of your tent.

“Well, well,” he drawled without looking up. “If it isn’t the temptress of the Weave herself, back from a night of sonnets and magical satisfaction.”

You stopped mid stretch. “What?”

Astarion turned to you, faux innocence painted across his face. “Oh, don’t play coy. I’m just dying to know how our dear Gale fares in the bedroom. Did he conjure you a glowing review? Perhaps summoned a satisfaction score from the Weave?”

You blinked, then burst out laughing. “Calm down, loverboy. Nothing happened.”

His smirk faltered.

“…Nothing?” he repeated, cautious.

You dropped onto a log across from him, grin wide. “Nope. We talked for like ten minutes, then he got distracted explaining the theory behind dreamscapes and how the mind processes intimacy while unconscious.”

Astarion looked like he aged a century. “Of course he did.”

“I almost fell asleep standing up,” you added. “I think at some point he forgot I was there.”

Astarion made a strangled sound in his throat and tossed a twig into the fire. “Well. I’m sure that was incredibly titillating.”

You rested your chin in your hand, watching him with a glint in your eye. “What’s with the attitude? I said nothing happened. A girl’s allowed to have urges, you know.”

His eyes flicked to yours, fast and sharp. “…Urges?”

You shrugged, teasing. “Yeah. Just figured it was time to get it over with. Stress relief. You know health reasons.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You were going to treat it like a medical appointment?”

“Exactly. Routine check up. The doctor was just… overbooked.”

The vampire groaned and threw his head back. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Mm, maybe I will, we will just have to wait and see unril you stop being jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

You raised an eyebrow.

“I was… annoyed. That’s different.”

“Mhm. You sure you weren’t picturing Gale putting on a robe and lighting candles while reading me his dissertation on foreplay?”

“I hate how accurate that sounds.”

You chuckled again, leaning back on your hands, eyes on him now with something softer. “You’re cute when you’re bitter.”

Astarion’s gaze flicked toward you again, but this time there was something quieter in it. Something careful. “And you’re a devious minx when you laugh like that.”

“Oh?” you smirked. “Scared I’ll seduce you with my wit?”

He looked away, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“No,” he murmured. “Scared I already am.”

––––You sat cross legged on a blanket just outside the camp, your sketchbook resting against your knees. Gale was beside you, hunched over his own page with careful strokes, charcoal smudged on the side of his hand. It was quiet. You could hear the rustle of paper, the soft exhale of Gale’s breath as he concentrated. Every so often, he would glance at your work, but he never commented unless you did first.

“Is that the Underdark cave?” you asked after a while, tilting your head toward his page.

He smiled, barely lifting his gaze. “It is. Not as foreboding on paper, is it?”

You hummed. “I would say it is still very foreboding.”

“I like it too,” he said, voice quiet.

You looked at him then how the light caught in his curls, how the frown of focus softened his features. There was something incredibly human about Gale in moments like this. Something grounding. Then he set the charcoal aside with a gentle sigh and glanced your way.

“I’ve been meaning to bring something up,” he said carefully. “Last night… when you mentioned what you wanted from me.”

You tensed slightly, setting your pencil down. “Right.”

“I was flattered,” Gale said with a small smile. “Truly. You’re… lovely, and clever, and far more patient than this strange journey has any right to demand. But I want you to know it’s not about you.”

You blinked. “What isn’t?”

“I don’t exactly know my stance on physical intimacy without affection. Not for myself, at least.” His gaze dropped to his hands, fingers lightly dusted with black. “It would feel hollow. Transactional. And I’ve already been part of one dangerous entanglement with shallow roots.”

You were quiet for a moment, then nodded. “I understand. You deserve real love.”

Gale looked up at you again, softer now. “We all do.”

You bit your lip, nodding again. “I respect that. I hope it didn’t seem like I was pressuring you.”

“Dont worry your pretty little head about it. I know. You’re too considerate for that.” He paused. “Which makes it even more baffling how you endure him.”

You blinked. “Who?”

Gale looked toward the center of camp, where Astarion was perched on a fallen log, basking in the sun and pretending not to eavesdrop. “That creature,” Gale said, voice dry. “A walking vanity project, Honestly, it’s like camping with a predatory peacock.”

You snorted.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Gale continued, warming to the roast. “I’m sure he’s quite talented in the dark. centuries of seduction will hone one’s… muscle memory but I imagine it’s about as emotionally fulfilling as being serenaded by a harpsichord made of teeth.”

“Gale.”

“No, really. He pouted for twenty minutes this morning because his hair got flattened during trance. He looked like a drowned cat who couldn’t manipulate the mage hand spell to fix it.”

Astarion glanced over then, voice saccharine: “You’re talking about me again. I must be ravishing to live rent free in the brain of a man who hasn’t even kissed anyone this decade.”

Gale raised a brow. “I’d sooner kiss a gelatinous cube. At least it wouldn’t try to kill me afterward.”

You covered your mouth, barely muffling your laugh. Astarion scoffed but didn’t move. what? he was listening. he couldnt help it.

Gale’s voice softened slightly then, a lilt of sincerity slipping beneath the sarcasm. “But jokes aside… be careful.”

You blinked. “With Astarion?”

He nodded. “He’s clever. Charming. entirely capable of making himself whatever you want him to be until he’s not.”

Your gaze dropped back to your sketchbook, heart thudding.Then, as if to break the weight of it, he chuckled faintly. “Besides, if we’re talking about primal urges, I believe our resident vampire spawn has more than enough… enthusiasm to spare.”

You laughed, leaning your head back. “You think Astarion’s dying to jump my bones?”

“Oh, I know he is. He practically disintegrated when you told him nothing happened between us.”

“He did look like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

“He looked like he’d been given the feast of the century. Honestly before you said anything, I haven’t seen a man so heartbroken since… well, me.” You nudged him with your shoulder, smiling. “But,” Gale continued, quieter now, “just remember there might be someone else who wants that closeness with affection. Someone who might be afraid you’ll offer it to someone else first.”

You turned your head slowly, eyes meeting his. He didn’t say Astarion’s name again. He didn’t need to.for the first time in a while, your heart beat a little faster not from fear, but from the weight of someone else’s longing you hadn’t quite dared to name.

The sun had risen high enough to dry the grass and heat the stones, but the camp was still unusually quiet. Most of the others had wandered off some hunting, some meditating. You were by the water, splashing your fingers across the surface, letting your boots dangle in the current. Astarion’s shadow fell over you before his voice did.

“You know,” he began, casually enough, “I’ve been thinking.”

You looked up. He was standing just off to the side, arms crossed, expression unreadable but his eyes were trained only on you.

“is that new or did you want to share with the class,” you said

He huffed a laugh but didn’t banter back. He just stepped closer, his voice quiet. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

You blinked, confused for a moment. “What?”

He met your eyes now. “When you decided you needed… something. That night. Why didn’t you come to me?”

You turned your gaze back to the water, thoughtful. “Because I couldn’t.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Couldn’t? Why?”

You were quiet for a long moment. Then, with a breath, you said, “Because I just wanted meaningless sex. Nothing more.” Astarion flinched not outwardly, but in the smallest corner of his expression, in the way his mouth parted like he’d just been stung. “And that’s not something I could ever have with you.”

You turned to face him now, fully. “Out of everyone in this camp… you’re my best friend. Like, yes, I care about the others. Gale’s a good man. I trust him, I do. But the bond I have with him it’s not like what I have with you.”

Astarion stood there, silent.

“With you,” you continued, voice softer now, “I can’t turn it off. I can’t just pretend it’s only physical. You’re not a passing urge. You’re the person I go to when I can’t sleep. You’re the one I want near me when things go wrong. You’re the one I trust when I don’t trust myself.” He blinked slowly, like the words didn’t quite register at first.

“And if we crossed that line,” you added gently, “I don’t think I could ever call it meaningless. Not with you. Not even if I tried.”

The air felt still around you, like the world was holding its breath. When Astarion finally spoke, his voice was rough around the edges. “I think you just ruined every one of my excuses for why I’m not already in love with you.”

You gave him a smile, wide eyed surprise. He sat down next to you without asking, his shoulder brushing yours. “I’m not saying I am,” he added quickly. “But if I were… that would’ve made it a lot worse.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head on his arm. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“…No, I’m not.”

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.

Cleanup on aisle 4

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.