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. ✧. summary ┊ Tamsy is dangerous. scary. it's why you've been avoiding him. but are you running from him, or the way he makes you feel?
. ✧. warnings┊ still suggestive!! but nothing explicit. still ages 16+ to be safe
. ✧. word count┊ 2,527
ׂ╰┈➤ (part two of three) woah,,
Tamsy. is. dangerous.
That was the only thought bouncing around your head as soon as that damned car ride ended. If you didn't take anything else from it, you definitely took that. You made sure to be the first one out of the car - scrambling over people and seats before making a beeline for your room at Headquarters.
You haven’t talked to Tamsy since that day. Never mind teased him.
You now know that you should never let Tamsy corner you. Even that once was enough. Because what if it happened again? Would he still touch, poke, and press his body against yours? You still remember how his hands felt under your shirt. How it felt so dangerous when he pulled on your undershirt. Would you have the same reactions?
You don't want to find out.
So, you’ve been avoiding him.
But not because you're scared of him or anything! No sir! He's just dangerous. That’s all.
And you thought you were so slick.
Choosing to shadow Team Akuta on more missions instead of Team Eager. Slipping into random rooms whenever you heard Tamsy coming down the hall. Hell, even diving under piles of trash if he was out in town at the same time you were!
See? Slickest alive.
It should've been a flawless plan.
It should have!
But Tamsy only had to catch your eye once, just once, and it all went downhill from there. Your eyes met. And you could feel his gaze burning holes into your skin like his touching had. Like he was undressing you in his mind with the way his thick eyelashes lowered over his eyes. Watching you, drinking you in. And you could still feel his eyes on you when you turned and ran for the hills.
And honestly? That was all he needed. That glance-then-run combo you did told him everything. You were avoiding him, no one else. Telling Delmon you were "busy" was just an excuse. Not that he hadn’t pieced that together already. But now he had proof, and your little habit ended up becoming your worst nightmare.
Because the more you ran from him, the more he seemed to enjoy the chase.
You'd hidden behind Corvus' desk. The best hiding spot in all of HQ. You learned that from many nights of hide-and-seek. Not with the kids, but the other grown ass adults. But the desk creaks and Tamsy leans over, sitting on top and asking, "Who are we hiding from?"
You've tried running a full mile away from him. All around HQ, through town, and then back again. You lost him, you thought, bending over to rest your hands on your knees. But he leaned on the wall behind to you, not a drop of sweat to be seen, and he whistles. "Wow... Are you running this fast just to get away from me?"
Even in front of others! You had been leaning over Semiu's desk, filling her in on the training for that day, when he got back from another skirmish. Before it clicked in your head that you should run, he slid behind you, squeezing your waist like he was trying to get by. But really, it was an excuse to incline his head and whisper low in your ear. So fast, so intimate, that even Semiu misses it. “I’m home.”
Or when you were dancing with August in the lounge, music blasting from a speaker he and Rudo fixed up. You shook your hips and spun around - but there he was again!! Leaning against the wall. Arms crossed. Grinning.
Okay, maybe that last one wasn't outright teasing... But you still call bullshit! He's obviously enjoying himself!
It's only in the dead of night that you truly feel any peace. All the cleaners should be asleep. Tamsy included. So you can move about HQ to your heart's content. No worries about running into him here!
Well, that's what you're telling yourself, anyway.
You pull your door open slowly, careful of the creaks it usually makes. You didn't want to wake anyone. Once the gap is big enough, you slip out into the hall. You need water..
The kitchen is nearly pitch black when you walk in. If not for the moonlight shining through rips in the cloth acting as a curtain, it would be. You move carefully, dodging tables and chairs to get to the actual kitchen area.
But you manage, and you're rewarded with a cold, crisp cup of water for your troubles.
When you finish drinking, you feel refreshed enough to finally fall asleep. Hopefully. As long as Tamsy stopped harassing you inside your head as much as he did outside.
But God has other plans.
"Hm?" The way he hums sends a very familiar shiver down your spine. "You're still up at this hour?"
No. No. No. You can't see much—that damn curtain isn't ripped enough!—but you can see his long locks falling over his shoulders. His hair is pinned lower than usual, giving the illusion of his hair being down. Then there's the messy crown of hair that always sticks up at the sides. You've always thought of them as cowlicks. If you run your fingers through them, will they spring back up?
No. Now’s not the time to be thinking about his hair!
So what if you're on the other side of the room? You're split by all the tables and chairs, behind a counter—but as soon as you notice Tamsy, you swear the room shrinks two sizes.
What did he ask you again? Your throat runs dry, "Yeah."
He chuckles. He's trying to dig deeper. "Couldn't sleep?"
You bite the inside of your cheek. You can already feel the flush climbing up your neck. Then, you tilt your head towards him. It feels familiar. Powerful. "And if I say no? You gonna follow me to bed?"
.
.
.
Wait.
You've never felt your cheeks get as hot as they are now.
Wait! Damn it. Damn it! Damn your stupid automatic flirty comebacks! You didn't mean it--Not to him! Not like that!
But he doesn't say anything. Not for a long while. You're scrambling for something, anything, to explain yourself. But you can't think of anything!
But...he turns his head away and coughs into his hand.
Huh. Just like all the times before.
No way...did you actually catch him off guard?
But ah. Wishful thinking. He turns back to you - and you yelp. Well, if you could call it that. You remember to be quiet, even if you're staring death in the face.
And death it is. Because if you can't see anything else in the moonlight - you can see his grin. Closed-eye, wide smile that shows the gentleness of being escorted to the other side that it should be. But you can feel the Tamsy behind it. The one who knows how this will end.
He takes a step forward, and your heart lurches so hard it hurts.
You dart behind the nearest table, scrambling to put something, anything, between you and him. “T-Tamsy! Hey! That… that slipped out—” You stutter and stammer, voice cracking, but it doesn’t matter. He’s still coming closer.
And closer.
Closer.
Until he lifts the table from right under your fingertips like it’s nothing.
You freeze where you stand. Your body can’t choose between fight or flight. Is this the third reaction Semiu was trying to tell you about? It's hard to think past the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. And past the realization that he's holding the table over both your heads. With one hand.
Why does that make you hot?
"That boldness is coming back..” He tilts his head, and the shadows across his face makes you stare. “..does that mean I need to break you again?"
Well, that thought shocks you back to reality. "W-What?!" You whisper-yell, "Tamsy!"
“I can't hear you,” he murmurs, voice low. Too low. The kind of voice that fills your mind and only leaves room for desire and hidden details. Details you don't need right now!
He takes another step forward. You slip to the left - socks sliding on the floor. You’re clumsy, panicked, and he huffs out a laugh. He’s playing with his food; making you trip over yourself when he does something as simple as taking a step. "Of course you can't! I'm not trying to wake anybody up!"
"But I want to hear you scream."
You make a sound that's halfway between a squeak and a scream. He's getting too close! You can feel him everywhere in your space now. If you don’t move soon, he’ll be feeling you up like on that car ride!
So you duck under his arm - the one holding up the table - and you run.
You tear down the hall, doing your best to run on your toes so that you don't make that much noise hauling ass. You're panicking. Just a little. No, just a lot!
You glance back—he's there. He's following.
He’s smiling, completely composed and walking slow like he’s taking a relaxing midnight stroll. Meanwhile, you're going for the world record in sprinting. You feel like you're running in a dream. Panicking, putting one foot down after another, but he's still right behind you!
You keep running, sock barely getting any traction against the wood floors. You just need to turn the corner up ahead. If you can make it around, your room is right there! You'll be home free!
You cut the corner.
But.
Your sock catches the end of an uneven floorboard. You’re thrown forward and all you can do is gasp.
You brace for impact—
But it doesn’t come right away. A stong hand catches your wrist and waist. You half expect him to pull you back towards him—but he does the complete opposite. The world twists confusingly, and you fall. But not on your ass. On him.
A look of pure horror crosses your features as you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. He twisted around like this on purpose!
But why did he put himself on the bottom?
He blinks slowly, looking up at you. His hair's come down from its low bun, now spilling on the floor all around you. You flex your fingers, nervous, and end up curling a strand around your thumb. Soft.
Your palms are sweaty. Your heart’s racing. And your face feels like it’s about to melt right off the muscle. But Tamsy is completely unfazed. He just stares. You’re putting on a show, and he’s got the best seat in the house.
"Careful. You might...wait, how did you put it all that time ago?” His eyes go lidded again. Hands lifting to rest low on your waist. “You might fall for me."
This--asshole! He’s referencing that time you flirted with him while he was coming down a slope! You want to be angry, you want to shout. But his hands start to wander. The way they always seem to do with you. And like before, he has you right where he wants you.
He tucks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and gives them a teasing tug. Down, like he wants to expose a little more, then out. Before letting go and letting it snap back against your skin. You jolt, and the slight sting makes heat pool in your stomach.
He slides his hands back up again, bunching the bottom edge of your tank top in his hands. Why did you have to wear a tank top and shorts to bed!? You should know to wear fifteen layers of clothes and chains for as long as Tamsy exists! You need to get away from him. Maybe you can just crawl off and make your escape..
As if sensing your escape plans, the cleaner lifts his knee. He takes advantage of your knees being on the sides of his waist—his very slim waist—and slots his leg between yours. His knee rubs against your seam the same way he did back in the car. And you fail miserably to hide the shiver that comes. You try to play dumb to his hints - arching away from his knee - but he just grabs your waist and forces you down on it. It presses against you, and you have to bite your tongue.
Don't wake the others.
“Did you really miss me this much?” His whisper, warm against your skin, does something to you. But you don’t want to admit what.
“Or…maybe not. Or else you wouldn’t be running at the sight of me.” One hand finds your neck, fingers curling around the back. “Why? Do I make you nervous?”
You’re honest, too honest. You nod. And he chuckles.
He pulls you closer with the hand on your neck. And by God, the way he angles your head away with that single hand makes your head spin. Your arms are shaking. You have to bend them some to keep from crashing. But he meets you halfway when you do, lifting his head just slightly. The ball of his piercing meets your burning skin first. Then his tongue; that he places flat against the dip in your neck. You shake all over at the change - from the cool metal to his tongue, hot on your skin.
You swallow. But that only seems to spur him on enough to close his lips around your throat.
His other hand, still resting on your hip, finds the edge of your top again. His fingers slide under first, then, he splays his hand over the small of your back. And like before, his fingertips are freezing cold. You arch away, but that only makes your chest push into his.
You're so close now. A tangle of limbs and touching that’s just shy of inappropriate. But Tamsy just tilts his head back, glancing at your expressions through his eyelashes.
His fingers are climbing now. Your shirt starts to ride up with his hand. Up, up, up, along the curve of your spine. Why is he always going up? Why can't he trail downwards for once..
What.
You go rigid at your own thought process.
But Tamsy? He’s amused. You want him so badly. All he’s done is toy with your head and your body. Your mind tries to fight it, but he can tell with every twitch. With every shiver. And it scares you. Your body’s submitted to him long ago.
But unfortunately (unfortunately?!), you hear someone approaching from the other end of the hall. You stand quickly - scrambling to pull your top down and making it look halfway presentable - before bolting. Again.
You need to get back to your room now!
Before whover was coming down the hall sees you! Before they ask questions about you and Tamsy! Like why are you on the floor? Why is he feeling you up? Why are you letting him?!
You slap your hands over your mouth in embarrassment and the utter terror of someone ever seeing you like that.
But...something tells you that Tamsy wouldn't mind having an audience watch you submit to him.
. ✧. summary ┊ you're getting fed up with Tamsy always leaving you high and dry. all the teasing and touching finally finds a release.
. ✧. warnings┊ still suggestive!! but nothing explicit. still ages 16+!!
. ✧. word count┊3,752
ׂ╰┈➤ (part three of three) there's an extra part to this down where the timeskip is! but it is EXPLICIT. Only 18+.
Getting tied up by Tamsy wasn't on your bingo card.
Well, not for today, anyway. You might've fantasized about it the first time you saw his Jinki in action. Then one fantasy turned into two, two into four... And, sure, you've been a pain in his ass all day long. But you didn't think he'd act today! Why now?!
The thick navy threads coil all around you. It's already a tight squeeze, but it keeps getting tighter and tighter. The world in front of you is stuck upside down just like you are in his web. The sharp curves dig into your skin and cut into your cleaner uniform. You feel exposed. Even more than you usually do with him, somehow.
It stings. You can feel your pulse everywhere they are. Aching. Itching. Wrapped all around your neck, around your legs, and even crawling over and between the spaces of your chest. Was that placement really necessary? He's definitely doing this on purpose! The knots are too intricate and decorated not to be! He's prettying you up; the perfect capture. Because that's what you are: caught and completely at his mercy.
You try to kick your legs, but that just makes the threads dig deeper. The tension tightens even more, and you can feel him tugging back on them with his vital instrument.
“I’m an awkward guy.” He mutters, tilting his head down. His glowing eyes bore deep into yours, and you can almost swear that he’s batting his eyelashes. There’s a shake to his voice. Something shy. But he laughs, and you know good and well that it’s an act he’s forcing. His lips curl up into a smug grin. “Is that what you wanted to hear? That’s what you assumed about me, right? You thought you could push my buttons and I’d take it with a quivering lip. But look at you now. My plaything.”
He lifts his arm to drag his fingers down the inner side of your thigh. His fingers press slowly, teasingly, claiming both your mind and the skin there--and you have to hold your breath. The heat's rushing to your head. With that and his wandering hands, it’s getting hard to think.
How did you even get here?
And did you deserve it? Maybe. Even though you're tied up and probably half delirious, there’s a small smug part of you that thinks, finally. Finally, he's reacting. Finally, you've pushed him to the edge.
You still ran from him. Because why wouldn't you!? Whenever you let your guard down, or rather, when he felt like it--he'd toy with you. But the more he riled you up and left you high and dry, the more you reverted to how you were before this little game started.
You don't like the effect he has on you. How he breaks down the walls you took years to build. How easily you submit to him. How easily he gets under your skin and how he gets you under his. How your body always betrays you.
But most importantly, you hate how you always want more.
At first, you only pulled back little by little. You didn't owe him an explanation why. You still don't. You're tired. Tired of glancing around the room for his stupid cowlicks. Tired of listening for his voice. Tired of hiding. You're a Cleaner, godammit!
You've killed scarier things than him.
So, pretty soon, your avoidance turned into more. Flirting.
Just...not with him.
As soon as the day started, you'd been all over Enjin. Laughing at his dumb jokes, sitting together on the couch, legs across his lap--the whole nine yards.
You've always been two sides of the same coin, after all. Using other people's reactions to escape your fear of intimacy, not that either of you would say that bar-for-bar. Enjin liked to chase after multiple women to do it. And you liked to push and pull with others to do it.
So when you flirt with each other, it's comfortable. Safe. A game with no stakes other than to make the other laugh. (Or shove each other.) It's nothing you two ever took seriously. Not that anyone looking in from the outside would know that, though.
Enjin's hand fell on your knee, where he drew mindless circles with his thumb. You didn't shiver or react. He took a long drag of his cigarette, "You're staring, dollface."
You rolled your eyes. You were not staring. Zoned out in his general direction, sure. "Just wondering how someone can be so handsome and so ugly at the same time."
He grins. "See, it's just--Hey!" He blew a puff of smoke directly at your face, and you groaned dramatically. "Watch your mouth."
And you grinned, more than ready to use your favorite set of words. "Make me."
The timing couldn't have been more perfect, because that's when Tamsy walked by.
His eyes flickered down to Enjin's hand on your knee. Then up to your face. He didn't even pause in his step. Just raised an eyebrow, as if huffing out a chuckle and asking, Really? Like he was challenging you instead of being caught off guard.
It pissed you off. It shouldn't have mattered. You'd been pulling away. It shouldn't have gotten under your skin. But it did. And it pissed you off. It pissed you off more that it pissed you off!
So next time, you really ramped things up.
You leaned over Semiu's shoulder, chest flush against her back as you glanced at her magazine. Surprisingly, she wasn't reading one of the risque ones today. What a shame. You could've teased her about that.
But that just gave you a different opportunity. So, of course, you took it.
"You're not getting bored with the models, are you?"
She flipped the page and rolled her shoulder - a half-hearted attempt to shrug you off. "Wish I would. I think I might buy a new set."
You leaned closer, chin pressing into her shoulder as she pointed to one of the women. Or rather, the black lace set she was modelling. Black, cute, and clinging perfectly in all the right places..
For a split second, an idea crossed your mind. Maybe you could buy them. Yeah! That would catch Tamsy off guard. It'll be worth the look on his face the next time he—
You stopped yourself. No. Hell no. It was supposed to be no thinking about Tamsy today!
So you tilted your head to catch Semiu's eye, and let your voice drop into that familiar tone. "Can I snap the band when you put them on?"
She made a sound between a scoff and a laugh, then swatted at you with her whole arm. You laughed loud and jumped back, ready to make your escape. But you turned, and there he was.
It was fast. Crazy fast. But you saw it. His eyes were dark, unreadable, with his lips pressed into a thin line. But when your gaze met his, it immediately disappeared behind another closed-eye smile.
Yes! You were getting through to him!
His voice cut through the air smoothly. "You're with Team Eager today. Corvus' orders."
But just like that, you had the wind knocked right out of your sails.
No worries, though! You were still riding your high. It might've been denial, yeah, but you had no reason to stop now. Don't get it wrong! You still weren't getting within touching distance of him. But you were a lot more confident pushing his buttons after that crack in his exterior earlier.
You lounged in the trunk of the car, playing it off as being too cramped to take the only free seat next to Tamsy. You hummed to yourself and folded your arms behind your head, unbothered by his staring. You strutted ahead of the group when you arrived, appearing way too eager to find the missing person and get back to HQ. You had better things to do.
And you did! All things that included ignoring Tamsy.
And it's not like he couldn't take the hint. He just didn't like it.
The group started its search in an abandoned building some ways out of town. As soon as you stepped in, you felt him at your back. Quiet, steady, and all around you at once. He tried cornering you, hand slinking around your waist and resting over the small of your back like it needed to be there. You didn't turn around when he leaned in close enough to feel his breath on the shell of your ear.
"Are you feeling alright today? You can tell me."
A shiver crept down your spine before you could help it. He always did that. Always found those spots that would make you shake and chase his hand with your body. And you fell prey to it every time. But even if you couldn't keep control over your body, you could snap your head to the side to hide your expression from him, "I don't have to tell you anything."
Just then, the rest of the group had slowed. They were sending you glances, some slowing down so you two could catch up. And it would've been too suspicious to keep hanging back, right? You shot him a knowing grin and made your escape, strutting ahead of him like you did before.
But you really should know better.
He pressed the top of Tokushin against the back of your thighs as you walked. And when you didn't immediately react, he nudged the instrument between. You tripped with a yelp.
You turned to glare at him, but he only chuckled. "I hope you don't think you're untouchable."
You...didn't know what to say to that. Technically, he already was touching you. And he would whenever he wanted—ugh! You rolled your eyes and stepped over his instrument, moving to catch up with the group like you hadn't been seconds away from combusting.
You could feel his stare burning holes into the back of your head. Looks like your lack of response did more than if you had said anything.
Because the next time he cornered you, his fingers shook.
He was cracking.
His fingers ghosted over your skin. Enough to feel him there, but not enough to feel the tremble. His fingers brush over your back, down the side of your legs, then back up again. Trembling.
..and you squirmed.
Like you were annoyed.
He narrowed his eyes at you. They were dark again. Unreadable.
But you turn your expression away again. "We should really focus on the mission. I’ll pay attention to you after, ‘kay?”
You didn't stick around to see his reaction that time either. Maybe a part of you was scared that you were pushing back too much. Being too bratty. Too much to handle. But the other part, completely hot and frustrated, didn't seem to care.
While ducking and dodging Tamsy, your group finally encountered the missing person. They were surrounded by a bunch of small trash beasts, unfortunately. But that's what you were there for, to clean up the mess.
Delmon used his high-pressure nozzle to take out a good number of them in one fell swoop. While Tamsy's vital instrument grew to its full size, weaving around the remaining ones to pull the hostage out with scary precision.
He turned to you, "Take them downstairs where it's safer."
You snorted. You crushed the last trash beast under your heel and the crunch was deafening. Mission's done and dusted, and he's still trying to order you around? And would it have been so bad to take orders from him? You swallowed the thought. "Make me."
A moment passed. You could hear the hostage gasping for air. Delmon shook his hands of debris. Your supporters rushed to fret over the hostage. The air grew thick. Quiet. Just as deafening as the earlier crunch under your shoe. But you and Tamsy were the only ones to take notice.
Then, like all those times before, Tamsy turned his head and coughed into his hand.
But...no. No, he wasn't coughing.
He was laughing.
His shoulders shook as he tried holding back his laughter. He wasn't intimidated.
Wait…was he ever?!
All those times before, he was trying to hold back his laughter.. The only difference this time was that he failed at hiding it. Or maybe he failed to because he wanted you to know. All those times you were so sure you'd gotten a reaction out of him. He was just indulging you. Playing along. Letting you believe you had the upper hand once.
Your chest tightened with something you couldn't quite place.
But when his voice dropped, you knew immediately.
"The hell do you think you're talking to?"
Nearly every muscle in your body reacted. Heat moved all around you, rising to pool in your cheeks, and falling to freeze your limbs stiff. You felt hot and humiliated all over, and it made you press your thighs together instinctively.
No. You don't like this.
You'd never fully encountered it before. It was always hushed whispers, light touches, and giggles. You didn't know what it felt like when he stopped playing around. When something sharp cut into his tone. When his eyelids lowered, not with hunger, but with something predatory.
Shit. You swallow. Shit! You don't like this. You don't need to explain yourself–you don't! His eyes, glowing and lowered, drag over your poor, pathetic, exposed form. You don’t like this. You don’t like your reactions. You snap your head right, looking away.
You didn't have any time to react before he slammed the handle of Tokushin against the floor. The sound, the crack, made you whip around again.
The floor cracked at his feet. Then, the cracks continued to split in every direction. Until it shattered and broke away. You and the others start to fall--with nothing but the bottom floor to break it.
Or, well, the others and the hostage.
You never hit the ground.
His threads caught you as soon as the floor disappeared from under you. They tightened all around you too quickly. Too tightly. Stretching your arms and legs out in the most embarrassing starfish you could imagine. And before you could get your bearings about you, you were flipped upside down and positioned in front of him.
And that's how you got here. A whole day of toeing the line, pushing buttons you thought were there, and a sore, sore loss.
Your face flushes, both from the blood rushing to your head and from the way Tamsy's looking at you. His gaze drags over your body, put on pretty display by none other than his truly, and the ropes across your chest tighten in sync with his eyes. You gasp. He definitely did that on purpose.
He reaches forward and forces a finger under the rope around your thigh. You hiss. The forced fit burns. Even more when he tugs it away from your skin--and lets it snap back.
You jolt, and the movement bounces all around the web around you. You’re gonna have red marks all over once this is over.
"That was a nasty battle, wasn't it?" Like hell it was! His tone is light, mocking you with his fake sympathy. "Hurt your head, did you?"
A rhetorical question. He doesn't expect you to answer. Not with the way he's letting his smile bleed over into his words. He thinks he's so funny. You weren't trying to get under his skin because something was wrong with your head!
"Here, I'll check you for injuries..."
You gasp when his hand lands right on your upper thigh. You aren't used to him skipping over the slow, teasing touches. He grips the skin there, ropes and his fingers making the fat spill between whatever little space it can find.
Then, he moves down to the dip in your thigh, right next to your crotch. You strain against his threads, hoping to close your legs. But he tilts Tokushin, and they’re forced further apart. He places his fingers right on the front of your shorts, making a ‘V’ shape with his fingers, and dragging it down. "You're not hurt here?"
Why the hell would you be hurt there?! He doesn't say it, but that grin on his face says it for him! Keep struggling.
He spins you upright again, putting you in a position that might just be more embarrassing than the first one! Pushed forward so that your back arches a little too deep, arms pulled back, and your legs shoulder-width apart. He lifts one string to duck under, then steps over another to move behind you. He’s completely hidden from your view now. You can’t turn or tilt your head back because of the threads. It worries you. Because now you really don’t know where he’s gonna touch.
He places a hand on your hip, and your whole body seizes. It’s impossible to relax like this! He nudges his fingers under the rope again, giving you an uncomfortable squeeze at your hip. You hold your breath, bracing, in case he decides to snap it again.
But he doesn’t. He just wiggles his fingers back and forth, making you squirm from the burn. Once he’s satisfied–you guess–he moves his hand to follow the line of rope. Over your hip. Over your upper thigh. Over your lower back.
He stops there. And you let out the breath you’re holding.
Until he pulls you back using the rope.
You gasp. You strain against your restraints, desperate to put some distance between your body and Tamsy’s. But that only makes you more aware. Aware of how his waist presses right against your rear. Your skin can’t possibly get any hotter.
He leans over, nudging his knee (not that he had to much nudging) between yours and resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands curl around, playing with the ropes at your chest.
“I can,” He pulls on the rope. “..and will break you.” He pulls again, and you can only bite your lip. Your stomach’s reacting in ways you don’t like. “Again, and again, and again, and again.”
Finally, after all that, he has the nerve to pull away. The ropes start loosening all around you, deflating, just like your excitement. You land on your feet, shakily, and in disbelief. He’s….He’s fixing his tie? He takes a breath, “I hope you don’t forget again. But if I—“
You lunge at him.. Your lips crash against his; a messy collision that’s full of teeth and frustration. Like a newborn fawn, your legs threaten to give out under you. But even still, you refuse to let him slink away. You need to do something about this right here and now, dammit! You need this. You need him!
You throw your arms around his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair. He isn’t kissing back. Those stupid cowlicks, which you’ve decided to call them, brush against your cheek. You deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth with a fervor that surprises even you. And he lets you.
But he still isn’t kissing back.
He grabs your shoulders, firmly grabs them, and forces you back.
His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide, and breathing heavy. His lips are wet, making the string of saliva that connects them to yours all the more noticeable. You press your lips together, and it breaks. His hair’s come down on one side - letting the blonde and navy locks cascade over his shoulder.
Shit. This isn’t the time to be thinking about how beautiful he looks! Did you just get rejected? Is this not what he wanted? Was it really all just a game to him? Did you assume again?
But immediately after, his eyes glaze over with something more hungry than you’ve seen before. He pounces on you the same way you just did to him, and it’s suddenly too hot for you to handle.
You scramble to catch and hold on to some part of him. His shoulders, tie, sleeve—but he groans into your mouth when you catch the roots of his hair. And that just makes you want to hold them more. Kiss him more. Taste him more. Meanwhile, he knows so much of you already. He knows where to anchor himself. Where to hide himself. He holds you, one hand on your hip, and the other around your neck. He doesn’t squeeze. He just holds you there so you remember who’s holding who.
“Tamsy..” You whisper between the breaks in the kiss.
He pulls away, just a fraction. “Keep saying my name like that and who knows where we’ll be.”
“If it’s you, then anywhere’s fine.”
.
.
.
When you and Tamsy finally make your way outside, the air is thick. Not the air of the Ground, which is always heavy with stink and rust. No. The air between the other cleaners. It's Awkward. Capital A.
If they were talking before you came out, there was no sign of it now. Every pair of eyes snaps over to you two. Dead silent. You watch, small, as their eyes lock in on Tamsy's hair, completely come undone and sticking up in places now. Then they scrutinize you, with rope marks, other marks, and cuts all over your skin and uniform. You can just feel their questions pressing down on you.
God, you wished the ground would swallow you up right now.
Tamsy, of course, doesn't seem to care in the slightest. He lifts an arm, lazily waving his sleeve at the group as you both approach. "Goodness, got a little turned around in there! Hope you weren't waiting long."
The faces the group and the hostage make, like a parent’s disappointed side-eye, make your cheeks burn. Nah, you’re sure this time. This is the most embarrassing moment in your life.
Delmon isn't fazed. He knows better. He's had a wife before.
Tamsy also isn't fazed. He just laughs, urging the rest into the car to get home.
But, of course, not before pressing his hand against the small of your back again. And when you shiver, he grins. Because no matter what, when he touches you, you’ll always shiver and shake..
"And you, my little plaything.." He leans in close, a squeeze to your arm here, a kiss to your cheek there. Then, he whispers. "You've been such a big help."
Your skin heats everywhere you can feel him.
You know what? Maybe being his plaything isn’t so bad.
ZANKA. is pretty cold when you first cozy up to him. Wrapping your arms around him helps a little, but not as much as teasing him does. He gets worked up so easily, and all that blushing makes him warm to the touch.
FUU. is the exact opposite of warm. His hands and feet are always freezing. But if you wrap yourself around his middle—aka, catching him before he can notice and run away—he’s pretty warm. Might have something to do with his heart beating like crazy, though..
ENJIN. is like a tower of warmth. Just like his Umbreaker, he’s the beacon for his team to flock to in the snowstorm. Or so he says, when he wants to sound cool. But really, you’re shoving the others to get to the heat first. You definitely aren’t the only one who slides under his big coat to steal some of his body heat.
SEMIU. is perfect, not too cold, not too hot. Just right. But that's probably because she avoids the cold just as much as you do. You can expect her to go all out when you're trying to steal her body heat; laying your head across her chest, draping an arm around your waist, and pulling you close.
AUGUST. is as warm as he is loud. You're sure there's a connection between the two. But just as much, he's observant. So whenever you start shivering or sneezing three times too many, he'll take your hands in both of his to warm them up. Or he'll blow on your nose and cheeks!
GRIS. will warn you how cold it is out before you even have a chance to get cold. But even if you ignore his warnings, still deciding to go out without that sweater, he'll hold you anyway. Whether it's just holding your hands or letting you walk close to his side. He's got a lot of body heat to share.
FOLLO. makes it something like a game between you two. He'll come up with the most ridiculous things to warm you up and make you laugh, like stuffing your hands into his front pockets or opening his coat to snatch you up and trap you inside. Now you're warm and happy!
TAMSY. is cold. Eerily cold. Instead of you seeking him out for warmth, it’s the other way around. Most times, he’ll take your hands in his and hide them in his sleeves to get both your hands cozy. Other times, he’ll use his eerie gift to tease you, pressing his hand against the back of your neck or thighs and insisting that he’s looking for warmth.
JABBER. is comfortably warm, but uncomfortably energetic. He'll hold your hand, sure, but suddenly that thing over there is too interesting, and he'll let go. Or he'll pull you into a hug, but then he'll suddenly get a new idea for a toxin and dip. It'll take you threatening him (or putting him in a chokehold) to get him to stay still.
ZODYL. is freezing cold, all the time. He knows this, so he doesn't reach for you whenever you complain about how cold it is. Instead, he just holds open one side of his coat until you come close enough for him to wrap it around you.
𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. finds you immediately after leaving Izuku and All Might's room. But he isn't Dynamight right now—not the hero you helped on the battlefield, heart half-beating from his explosions and Edgeshot's life support. He's just Bakugou Katsuki. A boy trying to hold himself together.
And you're what grounds him. What makes him feel right in everything that turned upside down.
You're desperately what he needs while he's recovering. The days don't feel so long when he has one hand dragging his IV stand around, and the other wrapped in yours. He won't say it with his own mouth. But he'll say it with how he reaches for you; how he shows it in every fragile moment.
He sneaks into your hospital bed when he's not supposed to. Both of you are still healing from your wounds, the doctors say. But that doesn't stop him from crawling under your thin sheet, curling around you like he did a million times before. One arm around your waist, one leg over yours, and his head tucked under your chin.
It reminds him of when he'd sneak into your dorm room to lie like this. When it felt mundane. Habitual. Safe.
𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐀. uses his Lovely Assistaff like an extension of himself. That much should be obvious though, right? But you don't understand just how much it's woven into his every action until you're completely, hoplessly, in love with each other.
He likes to use it to keep you close.
If you're just out of reach, just a fingertip out of his reach, he's sliding the curve around your waist and tugging you back close to him.
When he wants your attention, he'll push the end of the handle against your lower back. It’s more effective than just calling your name, he says.
He also likes to use it to protect you.
When he senses danger, he'll throw the staff across your middle, the same way he would with his arm to protect you from harm.
And whenever he needs to reach out for you in battle, he'll swing Lovely Assistaff out for you to grab before his hand.
But he also likes to use it when he thinks he’s being slick.
Lovely Assistaff is his shield. But...not really. He tries to cover both your faces whenever he leans in for a kiss...but it's still a staff. The others can still see you clear as day.
𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐘. doesn’t stop teasing you just because you’re a little more official than you were when he would tease you to hell and back for the fun of it. You're reactions are just too cute. Especially if he can corner you while others are within earshot.
"Sh, shh.." He coos, voice barely above a whisper. He slides his cold hands between both of your warm bodies. Sneaking under the layers of your Cleaner's uniform to spread his fingers flat against your back.
The villain's monologuing--something half-assed about taking over the sphere, and you're in the back with Tamsy. He's making use of the distraction. Fully. "Don't want them to hear, do you?"
You feel him everywhere he is--across your back, arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. But most humiliatingly, his knee between your own. You can feel his smile widen against your shoulder at how hot you are. Your skin's practically burning his.
He'll snap that little band around your chest. Snap the one that's closer to his hand on your waist. Shuffle his knee just a little bit closer. And he'll chuckle lowly when you shiver again and basking in the fact that he caused it.
You're still just as jittery. Your reactions just as silly. And it's still all his doing.
. ✧. summary ┊ Do not compare him to Kim Kardashian.
. ✧. warnings┊ just two mature references in this part! Kim Kardashian mentions
. ✧. word count┊525
ׂ╰┈➤ i appreciate all the love on the first part!!<3 glad my silly idea had some merit LMAO
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 ﹒❥ ﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
So. Your video doesn't just blow up, it explodes.
It takes no time at all (because it never does on the internet) before his entire fandom starts elbow-dropping his merch like it's a damn sport.
Maybe Bakugou should've expected this. The second he liked your post, the one where you're beating the shit out of his plush, it was bound to attract others. Unoriginals.
#DynamightPlush starts trending. And when he sees the millionth post using it, he's sure they're just clout-chasing. All just trying to get their fifteen-seconds by body-slamming their own merch.
But they're not you.
They're following you. Literally and figuratively.
Every post looks the same. Too forced. Too clean. Not unhinged or chaotic like yours was.
He sees it.
And he hates it.
So he scrolls past all of it.
Right back to your page.
He's been stalking lurking on your page, and your follower count's gone up another thousand. And with the trend blowing up all around you, it starts to get under his skin. Especially now because now you're not being you. You're playing it safe—posting some of his old quotes, liking art, reposting cat videos, anything but your unfiltered thoughts.
He's too interested to stop now. So he has to satiate his curiosity by scrolling back through your posts. And so he scrolls. Further. And further. And further.
Two things start to stand out to him this far back in your post history.
You haven't posted a single picture of yourself.
And you used to roast the hell out of him.
Your aggression towards him isn't new. He found that out just a few days ago. It’s just that he didn’t have the front row seat he has now.
He finds something from way back when he first graduated from UA, long before you became a fan of his. It's just a string impulsive tweets. Obviously you never thought the pro hero himself would be creeping around your page at two in the morning, because you spoke without a care in the world. And crazy enough, it makes his cheeks dimple with a smile.
It's exactly what he's been looking for.
My mutuals can’t spell dynamite right, plz pray for them
Who tf is Dynamight? PLEASE
Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight? Kim Kardashian headass LMAO is that the leaked tape that got him famous
He stares at his screen. Blinks once or twice.
He should be pissed.
He should not be smiling.
But he is.
"So that's how it is, huh?"
He wants to like them—God he wants to like them so bad. But after what happened last time, it’s probably better if he doesn’t.
So instead, he makes a tweet of his own.
It's the third one he’s ever made himself, all the rest are just automated or from his PR team.
I got famous the right way. Call me Kim Kardashian again
There. Something that's just between the two of you.
It’s just vague enough to fly under the radar of all his fans. Just snarky enough that he could be talking about anyone that isn't the biggest fan of him.
But he isn’t.
And you know.
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 ﹒❥ ﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
ᯓ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐊𝐎𝐅𝐈.ᐟ ˎˊ˗
𝙘𝙬 ; gn!reader, down bad zanka god i love this man, fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff, angst if you squint (slight insecurity), thank you to @cursed-carmine for the lovely dividers!
zanka swears that it’s normal.
you know that it’s not.
sliding out and pushing in your chair for you at restaurants. small trinkets and gifts that just “made him think of you” when he’s away on a mission. instinctively interlacing your fingers whenever you stand next to each other. always sending you a smile, no matter how dire the situation.
he knows your favorite time to sleep, and he always makes sure to finish all of his tasks and training by then to make sure you sleep soundly next to him. he knows your favorite food, and he makes sure to make it for you or buy some for you at least once a week.
the way he sneaks up behind you and presses his lips against your cheek. the way he always keeps your hands warm. the way he just never, never stops thinking about you.
the cleaners already know you better than they know themselves. “oh, and today they said that i look good with these so i’m goin’ to wear this more often and oh—“
your smile is etched into his mind. your laugh constantly a bell in his ears. the feeling of your lips against his is heaven.
“you don’t have to sill do this, y’know.” you mutter as he brings your hand to his lips, his jacket wrapped around your shoulders.
“it’s nothin’ special,” he mumbles against your hand. “you deserve all that i have.”
. ✧. summary ┊ you're rivals. Zanka's already established that. until you come on to him pretty strong, that is.
. ✧. warnings┊ swearing, LOTS of swearing, it's Zanka
. ✧. word count┊1,893
ׂ╰┈➤ really wanted make this into a series but I already got two mini-series and another full fic series otw</3
Zanka hasn't felt like this in a long time.
Not since his training academy days. Not since he was handed the title by other trainees, who never tried as hard as he did. Those who never pushed themselves to their limits and beyond. To be the best.
And that's because he's learned that he was supposed to be an average guy, through and through.
"But there's always somebody that has to fuck it up!" He growls, launching himself into the air and swinging his Lovely Assistaff into a full arch over his head.
It's you. It's always been you. From the day you dragged yourself to their HQ's doorstep like some washed-up stray. First, you go for his trainer spot. Then his "cool" spot. Then you go for his skin, crawling under and keeping him up at night.
And now he was being forced to train with you?!
He swings his staff down. Hard. It whistles through the air—but you kick your leg up, countering his attack at the last second. Your heel meets the weapon a third of the way down, throwing off his balance. Zanka stammers in his grip, and the staff flips out of his hands.
You try to bring your leg down for a follow-up, but he twists around before he lands, catching your leg and yanking.
You snatch your leg free with a kickback.
And now, you're both unarmed. Both down your vital instruments. He had already smacked yours out of your hands moments ago. So that only left hands.
You square up. He mirrors your stance.
For a moment, everything's still. Just sharp eyes meeting the others', and heavy breaths.
Then, Zanka lunges.
He swings—Right. Left. Right.
You're both going blow for blow. You're matching each of his attacks.
You block his fist—Block. Right. Block.
Until finally, you sweep your leg under his, and Zanka falls back on his ass.
He hisses and jumps to his feet again, but by then, it's too late.
“Hell yeah! Get his ass!”
Worst of all? Worst. Of. Fucking. All?!
You’re stealing Enjin away from him. 
All his attention, all his praise—if you take their mentor/student dynamic, he's actually gonna lose his damn mind.
Zanka snaps up so fast that it looks like he's suddenly gained a spine. His face is dark, shadowed, as he stomps right up to you. And when your face lights up—definitely from making Enjin your hype-man—he only gets more irritated. You jolt when he jabs a finger right into your chest. "You tripped me."
"It's called a sweep."
"No," He clenches his fists at his sides. He's gotten better at hand-to-hand combat purely because he wants to strangle you and wipe that enamoured grin right off your face. "It's called damn cheating!"
"Nu-uh."
You get on his last nerve.
"Yuh-huh!"
"Nu-uh!"
"Yuh-huh!"
"Nu-uh!"
"Yuh-huh!"
"Alright, alright.." A cigarette hangs lazily from Enjin's lips as he strolls over. "We'll call it there. Go get somethin' to eat, and Zanka, don't pout."
"I'm not." He is. Violently.
And when you giggle at his expression, it takes everything in him not to start round two.
Enjin drops a heavy hand on his head, and all of Zanka's fury goes out the window. Never mind Enjin watching him bust his ass. Forget about the scolding. He's getting a head pat! From Enjin!
But then he gives you one too.
Just like that, Zanka's all pissed off again. You're the only one who can bring out this childish anger in him. Make him throw a tantrum. The kind that makes him stomp off—snatch up Lovely Assisttaff—and continue stomping.
It's been like this for nearly a week straight now.
He'd do something cool, and then you'd appear and do it a million times cooler.
He'd make up a new move to use with his Jinki, and you'd create a whole new tier for yours.
He'd bring Enjin a cigarette when his was burning too low, and you'd bring him a whole new box.
It pisses him off to no end. You piss him off to no end.
No matter where he goes, you're always there. Showing off that annoyingly wide smile and challenging him to back-to-back fights like you're mocking him. You make his skin hot in a way he hates.
He heads to the dining hall like Enjin told him to - because unlike some people, he does things the correct way. His poor food takes the brunt of his attacks, each stab with his fork making him replay the training in his mind. Every kick and every punch, and even him falling on his ass. It makes him bite down on his poor food harder than he needs to.
When he's done, he takes his plate to the kitchen to wash it. No shortcuts. No "sweeping." He does it right. And he doesn't cheat.
He's halfway through rinsing his dish when the the door to the dining hall slams open. He turns just in time to see you, Enjin, and Rudo. The two boys, they're acting like boys, shove you inside before slamming the door shut again.
Zanka's eyes narrow at you. You only look away and wring your hands.
Great. They wanna torment him even more.
He ignores you, finishing up his chore and shaking the water off his hands. Then, he heads for the door. But when he tries to pull on it..
It doesn't budge.
He can hear Enjin and Rudo giggling behind it. And is that Riyo now too?!
"Hey!" His head snaps back to you, "What the hell is this?"
For the first time, well, ever, you look nervous. You rub the back of your neck and look down at the floor. Sure, you're never as angry passionate as he is, but you're always smug as shit. Annoying. Confident.
So why aren't you now?
"Sorry, they...Lord, they're so embarrassing..."
He crosses his arms, waiting.
"They just...wanted to help me get you alone." You mutter the next part so low that he barely catches it, "...since training didn't work..."
He stares at you like you're crazy. Actually, he knows you are. "You wanted to get me alone."
You groan, "Don't make me say it again."
"Don't." He clicks his tongue, "Because since when do you want me alone, huh? Didn't get enough of beating my ass in front of Enjin? Actually, are you sure it isn't Enjin you're trying to get alone? Damn show-off, you're trying to impress him—"
You raise an eyebrow and place your hands on your hips. The boldness is coming back. "You're the only one trying to impress Enjin."
That stops him cold. The tips of his ears would probably be burning if it wasn't you calling him out. "What?"
"I never once said that I was trying to impress Enjin."
Zanka blinks. So does that mean his spot is safe? He starts to get excited, the corners of his lips turning up. But then he scoffs. Yeah right. "You've been showing me up all week. You're definitely trying to get on Enjin's good side—"
"Yeah, because if I get on Enjin's good side, then I'll be on your good side." He blanks again. His face is stuck in that half scowl again, so you speak before he can cut you off again. "I've been trying to impress you, Zanka."
He goes quiet.
Really silent. You're starting to wonder if you broke him.
His voice cracks, humiliatingly. "...Huh?"
You sigh and your shoulders slump. If this had been any earlier, he would've thought you were sighing out of annoyance. But right now, he can see the relief wash over you. The way your smile is shy, not smug, as you straighten up again and take a step towards him.
He takes a step back. There's a blush rising up his neck. You're moving way too fast!
You scratch the back of your neck again, giggling. "Well, I kinda like arguing with you.." He feels a vein pop somewhere on his neck. Why does he attract all the weirdos? "Seriously, you're so passionate about things. And you get determined when we train. So I thought, the more we fought or trained or argued, you'd catch on."
Zanka's heart jumps so hard in his chest that he worries it just cracked a rib.
He takes another step back, nearly tripping over a table, and hisses. That would mortify him to no end. Tripping over a whole table while someone's confessing to him? Hell no! He tries to play it cool and lean against it instead.
But of course, you follow. You're getting closer and closer. And Zanka realizes, maybe you are kind of cute. When he's not glaring at you through narrowed eyes.
Wait. Huh?! What is he saying? What are you saying?
"—asked them to help, because the training wasn't going anywhere. I just really wanted a chance to talk to you without you getting all.." You're in his face now. "..Zanka about it."
"I'm—I'm not Zanka."
You blink slowly. "Huh? Then who are you?"
He's—Dammit! Shit! How did he manage to mess that one up?! He clamps his lips shut, thinking it's better not to speak at all, and turns his head to the side.
But you step closer, sliding your knees between his to get closer, and you cup his cheek in your hand. You gently nudge him to look at you again.
He swallows. "You...serious?"
You nod slowly. He's looking dead into your eyes now. There's no bite, no smugness, just something sincere. Something enamoured, just like earlier.
Shit.
You're so close now that he can see the specks of color in your eyes. So close that he's worried you can feel the heat rolling off his skin in waves. The way his arms twitch at the elbow because he wants you to get even closer.
"Hey, so, can I kiss you now? That's what comes after a confession, right?"
Hell if he knows! He's still figuring out his own feelings! All those times his body got hot, was it really out of anger? Or a full body blush? It's too damn embarrassing to think about!
There's still a part of him that doesn't believe you. Blame it on his flustered mind; he doesn't give a damn. But he leans forward and catches your lips. His fingers shake the whole time, but damn does it feel good.
And when you melt into the kiss and him, the last of his suspicion melts away. You close your eyes first. You smile into the kiss and hold onto his collar.
Damn, you're serious.
And maybe he is, too, since he's the one kissing you.
Until the door slams open.
Zanka tries to pull back as quickly as he can. But like earlier, he's too late.
Everybody and their mama was hiding behind that door. Not just Rudo and Enjin anymore. Riyo, Gris, Follo, Semiu, Tomme...
And here he is, pushed up against the table and caged in by your arms like a maiden that just got swept off her feet. And maybe he did a little bit.
The Cleaners stare and you and Zanka.
You and Zanka stare back.
"Oooooo~!" The group starts cooing in unison.
"Get the hell out!"
ᯓ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐊𝐎𝐅𝐈.ᐟ ˎˊ˗
ZANKA. Gets angry when he's flustered. The only way you can tell the difference between his normal anger and his shy anger is how red he is. Right up to his ears.
FUU. Gets a little teary-eyed when he’s embarrassed. Trips all over himself and gets even more jumpy than he normally is. And it’s just so cute that you can’t help teasing him some more!
ENJIN. Fumbles everything when he’s flustered. Drops his cigarrate, lets his mouth hang open, refuses to blink until his eyes burn. But your favorite has to be when he's trying to be cool and swing Umbreaker around his wrist, but instead drops it and starts fumbling to catch it.
SEMIU. Is even harder to read when she's flustered. She gets a tiny bit more playful, sure, but everything else seems to be the exact same. That is, until she accidentally bumps her hip into the doorframe on her way out.
AUGUST. Gets even louder, somehow. You do anything, and he starts stringing a bunch of shouts together like "You're his pretty mama" or how you're "Trying to kill him!" And sometimes it's just incoherent screaming.
TAMSY. Is dangerous when he gets flustered, because he does the complete opposite of what's normal. The only tell that he's affected is the slight pink on his pale cheeks. He'll get way too giddy, flustering you to hell and back by saying things that are way past inappropriate. And saying you're so good to him in front of the other cleaners.
JABBER. Also gets giddy when he gets flustered. But also freaky. Giggly and freaky. He'll pin you down and ask you what you truly meant. He'll lean in close and make you repeat yourself. Might bite you if you get him too worked up.
ZODYL. Is still impossible to read. Even if you're laying it on thick, flirting away to your heart's content, he's still immovable. Until a light pink dusts his cheeks. But if you blink, it'll be gone again.
I don’t usually do requests since I feel like it’ll put me in a box, among other things (see: ADHD) but I got an ask wondering how the Gachi boys (crew) would react to their partner twerking, and it made me laugh.
Because have you SEEN the ground? They’ve probably seen people throw ass so much they’re probably used to it.
But if it’s YOU specifically, who they’re crushing on, I think…
ZANKA. Is turning away. He usually does, out of respect. And because he’s getting insanely flustered by the way you're moving your hips. Dance circles around him, he'll "hate" it. (Or so he says)
FUU. Is probably the same as Zanka. I’m not all that sure since he’s still new to me, but I can see him getting embarrassed, turning to high-tail it, and tripping all over himself.
ENJIN. Whistles. Edges closer and closer but not quite close enough to touch you—he's tried that before, dancing behind someone without asking and nearly getting his face slapped off—so he’ll give you puppy dog eyes instead. Waiting until you give him the go-ahead to hold your hips.
SEMIU. Watches your hips. Completely unashamed. Will absolutely whistle when you're done and tell you to give her an encore.
AUGUST. Just Hooting and Hollering™️. He'll wave glow sticks, clap, or just yell "Aye!" to the beat. That’s your biggest hype man right there.
TAMSY. Leans against a wall and just watches you. It starts to make you shy, how intensely he’s staring, and you can’t make out what he’s thinking. But he smiles and does the little finger clap when you’re done. (He thinks he looks so nonchalant doing that)
JABBER. Takes it as you challenging him to a dance battle and also starts throwing ass. But way better than you. And stiff hips, and butterfly legwork, and the whip + nae nae, and—
ZODYL. He’s either staring at you intensely during and after your dance, or not at all. It’s too hard to tell what he’s thinking in that brain.
Imagine refusing to kiss Zodyl because baby boy ate a ROACH!! And now he's pouting around base, and the others think he's pissed or thinking up some mastermind plans, but no, he's just sad because you "don't" love him anymore.
. ✧. summary ┊ Pro Hero Dynamight takes a liking to you after seeing one of your ridiculous posts about him.
. ✧. warnings┊ none really, just some cussing in Bakugou's narration
. ✧. word count┊532
❥ ﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
Dynamight uses the like button on his socials a little too freely, but why should anyone care? It's his account. He doesn’t need to explain himself to anybody. A little blue checkmark, a follower count in the millions--he doesn't care. He’s gotten in trouble for it before, liking a pretty risque video, but the superhero isn’t anything if he's not stubborn.
He should've kicked his doomscrolling habit a long time ago. But it keeps him entertained between his calls to go be a hero. Sometimes, a certain fan-edit will catch his eye, or a meme, or--
Some stupid shit, like this one.
It's not a trend. It's not a meme. It's just you, faceless, beating the ever-loving shit out of one of his plushies. Punching it, tossing it, even jumping off your bed to elbow-drop it like you're in a damn wrestling match. Your caption reads: Dynamight was looking TOO fine in that last interview- Knocking him down a peg
He snorts.
And he likes the post.
He doesn't think much of it. He immediately goes back to his scrolling—until the notifications interrupt him. He's suddenly victim to the barrage of new likes and messages.
Damn stalkers.
Of course they freak out when he likes something. Anything. It's nothing new, but that doesn't make it less annoying. His phone blows up with alerts, one after another, stacking at the top of his screen faster than he can read them. He flips his phone to silent and sets it on his desk to try and focus on something else.
Rumble. Rumble. Rumble.
Yeah, he really should've kicked this habit by now.
He gets curious and picks his phone up again. Direct messages. Reposts. Profile views. A whole wall of noise...but one particular mention catches his eye.
BABE GET UP @ GEMGDYNAMIGHT LIKED YOUR VIDEO
By the time he taps on the mention and goes to the comment, you've already replied:
"IKNOW."
He snorts again. Louder this time.
He taps on your profile. It's a small page. Only a thousand followers. Your bio has your age, just around his, and proudly declares that you're a Dynamight fan. Despite just watching his plush getting its ass handed to it, he feels a spark of pride swell in his chest.
He taps on your most recent post--the plush abuse one--and grins. You're fighting for your life in the comments. He's watching them roll in in real time.
I DIDN'T THINK HE'D SEE THIS
ITS A JOKE. DYNAMIGHT IS MY FAVORITE HERO I PROMISE
DONT LOOK AT ME
Your favorite hero Dynamight bites his lip to keep from outright laughing. He shouldn't find this as funny as he does. But someone panicking and suffering from it? Call him a sadist, that'll never not be funny to him.
He finally leaves the battlefield that's your comment section, but the stupid grin won't leave his face.
Things like this aren't supposed to stick with him. It usually doesn't.
But this time...he keeps thinking about your post. About you.
The thought of following you crosses his mind more than it should. But he shouldn't. He'll overwhelm you with his fans.
Not yet.
But he'll definitely come back to your page later.
❥ ﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
ᯓ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃.ᐟ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა 𝐊𝐎𝐅𝐈.ᐟ ˎˊ˗
