WHY DONT YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 1)

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 1)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

A lil’ platonic yanderes harley and joker in the mix too hehe

gender neutral reader.

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. reader has schizophrenia. reader has a massive fear of abandonment. harley and joker only feed to that. a r s o n among other crimes. gaslighting. manipulation. implied r*pe (by reader im so sorry you guys) reader is interested in all genders.

summary: meet jinx, gotham’s loudest, most explosive villain. no one knows who they really are, or if jinx is really even their name. but one thing’s for sure — they’ve got a lot of people chasing after them and their reasons aren’t so noble.

status: unedited

Considering Jinx was inspired by Harley Quinn. You’re probably her protégé. Her darling little child with Joker.

YOUR ORIGINS:

She saw you in the aftermath of the explosion. Cold and alone. Fire roaring behind you despite the heavens pouring its heart out, as if it was desperately trying to wash your tears and pain away.

She saw your bruises and a girl a little older than you walk away.

Her heart ached for you. No child deserved to be put in that kind of position, so she stepped in and made herself known.

“ I . . . I only wanted to help . . . Don’t leave me . . . Don’t . . .

You muttered.

Joker, who came here to marvel at the chaos such an explosion would present smiles maniacally.

You. You were the one that did this.

This beautiful wreckage and an equally beautiful child.

You were practically begging to be moulded into a weapon.

You charged at them both as they got closer, and while Harley was ready to defend her man - even hurt you if she has to - they did not expect what came next.

You just, held unto Joker’s right leg.

“ She’s not my sister . . . No . . . if she was she wouldn’t leave me . . . “

You were far too emotional for his liking. But nonetheless. A boon can always be found in a curse. That is, your desire for revenge.

He takes one look at Harley before picking your small body into his arms.

“ Who cares about fools like them, little one? They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

His smile never stopped widening, yet even as a kid you never saw it as creepy or unnerving. In fact, it only reminded you of the smiles you used to draw on your nail bombs.

“All we ever truly have is ourselves. “

“So, smile. Don’t let your tears bring you down.”

Moulding you into the perfect weapon was easy.

Having a psychiatrist as a partner did help a lot in your development.

All it took was a few reminders of that fateful day before you began obediently following their rules and instructions.

You were a genius and since Harley kept protesting against it. You weren’t baptized into a vat of acid like the couple was.

Now, Harley and Joker are the worst possible parents you can ask for. So unlike Arcane’s Jinx. You are way way more unhinged. Not to mention, horny and materialistic.

As you grew up, you began to take interest in intentionally hurting people just for the sake of it. Stealing things was just a normal Tuesday for you. Being successful in your endeavors for once, and having bigger stacks of cash felt exhilarating.

The women and men were amazing. Your pseudo parents being who they were, didn’t really care if you were a sexual deviant or a pervert. When your hormones started kicking in they let you do whatever you want. Even giving you some of the people he held hostage as a toy to play with. If you have the capability of getting someone pregnant/or getting pregnant yourself they wouldn’t really care about the baby but you knew them well enough to know they’d use the kid as a way to manipulate you so you were careful in that aspect anyhow.

Harley noticed that when laying with women you’d often call out your sister’s name or call them sis by itself.

Sick. Disgusting. Is what a normal mother would think after finding out such a fact.

But to her you were just growing up so quickly. She had convinced Joker to go ahead and kill your sibling a long time ago behind your back and was growing anxious with the thought of you hating her and ruining this happy family dynamic (she had in her head)!

So she starts bringing you to more heists in disguise. Always keeping a close eye on you so that if any of those stupid heroes and vigilantes get any close, and you too far. She’d know as soon as possible.

It’s safe to say you grew up pretty spoiled, but even then you were hungry for more.

You see, even if they (Harley and Joker) weren’t careful with their “parenting” approach. They were careful with keeping you hidden from the Dark Knight himself.

Not that they were scared you’d get hurt. They could always nurse you back up again. Harley actually enjoyed the times you’d gotten in the cross fire. More time to take care of you in her arms.

They were mostly scared of the Dark Knight stealing you. Afraid that he’ll take you away and turn you into a goody-two-shoes they wouldn’t recognize anymore.

So as much as you were more involved it still felt like they were babying you.

It was your situation with you family all over again

But this time, this time you’ll show them…

You weren’t weak. And it’ll do them good to remember that.

YOUR RIVALRIES:

You made your debut at around the time Tim was still Robin.

You were his very own Joker. A menace deal with. A person that only cared for the thrill that came with hurting and killing masses.

You were terrible. Evil. A demon he had to exorcise from this world.

A demon he fell hopelessly in love with.

He didn’t know how his feelings came to be. It may have been the amount of stress and pressure he was facing coupled with having to deal with your ass every damn day whether directly or indirectly. But he found himself yearning to see you at times. Getting warm when he thought of you. He felt solace knowing that no matter how many times he’d attempt to tear you down completely, you’d still come back to face him once again.

He was so guilty of his feelings. How could he fall for someone as heinous as you? You were the worst of the worst. But somehow that made things so much more better.

You were a taboo. A vice he couldn’t have. The thought of entering such a forbidden relationship excited him just cause it was just that — forbidden , a temptation that should always stay like that.

He somehow manages to gain the self control to stay away from you for a while.

But then came Damian and he was set to replaced. Just like that.

“Wow there Timmy Boy. You look like shit.”

“J-Jinx?! Why are you here? How do you know my name?!” He asked as if he didn’t know every single detail about you himself.

“I have to know my little birdie well don’t I?”

“What kind of archnemesis would Jinx be to their little Robin if they didn’t do a lil’ research?” You spoke in a higher, cutesy voice as if you were your handgun that you’ve affectionally named Zapper.

“Right you are Zapper! I would be a terrible rival. That wouldn’t do for a hero as great as Timmy!”

He thought that all his work was all for naught. All the hours he spent trying to prove himself was gone so fast.

But you reminded him of his place in this world. Of his position as a hero. Your rival.

The warmth in your eyes when you looked at him sealed the deal. There was no coming from this. He was yours as you were his.

“Only I can hurt you like this, toots. Don’t forget that.”

Little did you know that Tim took those words to heart and never let anyone else hurt him (and stay alive).

“Big Bat can replace you but you’ll always be the Robin in my heart !” You winked at him, signaling with one of your manicured fingers for him to smile. Which ended up almost scratching your cheeks.

Tim was confused (incredibly flustered, not to mention har—), why were you so kind to him all of a sudden. He knew you were the playful type but you were usually ruthless when it came to battle. You weren’t one to play with food for too long. For you to excuse him, much less help him in such a state.

Who were you and what did you do to his Jinx?

“OW hEy! I swear if you put that there Pow-Pow— I’ll—“ Tim heard you screeching out of view.

Scratch his doubts. Yep, you were definitely still his Jinx.

The Dark Knight knew who you were from the beginning.

He had his suspicions even before you came into the scene. With your knack to tag everything with neon spray-paints.

At first he thought you were a simple thug that Joker and Harley picked up. But the way they were sheltering you made it seem otherwise.

The regret he felt knowing that you were basically a child in their filthy hands and was now far too gone to save was immense.

If only he knew. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

While he was “dead” he found himself looking into you more. About the death of your biological parents and the way your sister abandoned you to Harley and Joker.

He felt pity for your childhood and a sense of kinship. Sure the incident may have been your fault but you were a child. How could you have known your actions would have such terrifying consequences.

If only you knew him when you were younger.

If only.

He was sure you’d be one of the greatest vigilantes alive.

“I knew you were alive.”

You looked down at Batman, staring while both of you were being doused by the rain. Thunder accompanying the sound of conversation.

He takes a defensive stance.

“I’m not going to fight ya, that’s Joker’s thing. And I know he’ll grill my ass if I stole his archnemesis.”

“What a loser!”

“Hey! He took us in. We should be more grateful!”

Bruce looked at you as you talked with a new, rather large, shark shaped gun. He had memorized the names of all your “companions” by now and was oddly excited and slightly unnerved by the new one.

“So, why’d you leave? Was it . . . was it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then come back.”

He almost dropped all his plans with the way you told him that.

“Tim needs you . . . and your other sons too or whatever.”

“Come with me.”

“You crazy, old bat? Why would I—“

“I know what it feels like to have no family. Harley doesn’t love you. Joker doesn’t love anyone.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Well tough luck man. I don’t give a shit about love.”

You dropped down to his level. A thud resounds, loud enough to cut through the rainfall and thunder.

“Cause love never gave a shit about me.”

“We’ll have to refuse. Just get back to your sons, hero!”

“I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t make it clear enough—

— I don’t think you have a choice in this matter, [Y/N].”

Act 2 with Jason, Dick and Damian coming soon! If you’d like to be tagged just reply to this post ^^

You like my writing? Follow my blog and maybe take a look at the fic linked below!

WHAT’S UP DANGER : Yandere Batfam x Miles Morales! Reader

Idk if you do requests but i rly like your works (no pressure tho luv ya✌🏻) may i ask some fluffy bonten mikey going home to his preggy wife after a long day in bonten? Thank you🥹🥹

Home to You

SUMMARY : After dealing with a Bonten rat that tried to expose your wellbeing to the public eye, Mikey goes home to you.

🔞Warnings: violence & torture stuff (bonten!mikey hates traitors), fluff (on the last part), explicit sexual content, lactation, fingering, creampie, she/her pregnant reader.

AN: hi! thanks for requesting! I’m back once again lol sorry for inactivity, another anon also requested me to do nsfw w mikey so i just merged their requests bec im too lazy to write another dhddhrhhgr this is just pwp with 2.8k words idk. I hope this is okay lmaoo:))

“You may kill him now.”

“N-No, please. Mikey I beg your forgiveness! I promise it won’t happen again!”

The bloodied man bound to the chair struggles. He pleads for his life with hollowed eyes. He was imprisoned in one of Bonten's secret warehouses for several agonizing hours, having his fingernails removed, bones crushed, and sulfuric acid slowly dripped into his wounds.The bloodied man laments his dying life.

He was trying to get your picture. If he could just get his hands to photograph his boss's wife, a very hidden and confidential figure in Tokyo underworld, he and his pals could sell it to the public and get wealthy.

Getting the boss to let anyone but the highest-ranking Bonten officials see his wife, let alone take her picture, was a herculean and treacherous task in and of itself. Moreover, 'the wife' herself rarely left the house without at least three of Sano's most trusted guards following close behind.

Her own existence was treated as precious as the most prized and expensive piece of art in the world.

And while it was common knowledge that Mikey detested traitors more than anything else, his greatest fear was that someone would try to harm you and take you away from him when you were pregnant.

Sano Manjiro had been dubbed a variety of labels throughout his young life: tyrant, evil, savage; those terms have never failed to amuse him, and don't even get him started on the titles he's acquired; The Invincible Mikey as a teen, The Heartless King throughout his adolescence, as he and his gang dominated and conquered prefectures one by one with bloodshed and brutality. He was capable of crushing force much beyond his years, and then as time passed; murderous monster, cruel ruler, hollow-hearted motherfucker - that's the latest.

You had only gotten married the previous year and your pregnancy was a swift blessing afterward. No matter how many politicians, lawyers, journalists, and police stations Bonten had in their control, they still dared not take any chances in case more traitors tried to leak Bonten's private business, especially the pregnancy of their king's queen, and leak it to rival gangs which only puts your safety at risk.

After a long day of executions, Mikey heads out to his waiting car and heads home for the night. Even though it was late, he knew you would be waiting up for him to get home, just like you did every day.

You were fast asleep on the porch swing when he pulled up in his expensive car, just as he had anticipated. A blanket covered your pregnant belly as you rested your head in Kakucho's lap.

Kakucho becomes alerted to the presence of his boss but hesitates to move so as not to wake you from your nap on his lap. Mikey had already put his most trusted executives in place to protect you from the nasty traitors who were selling information on you, before he found out that they were doing so.

Mikey sighs at the sight of you.

“I told you to sleep inside.” He reaches out and gently runs a hand across your forehead, knowing full well that you would do this, but still touched by your concern.

He picks you up as gently as he can, dismissing Bonten’s Number 3 along the way and carries you all the way to your bedroom so you can sleep there instead.

You lay still on your bed, eyes closed, lashes fluttering down your cheeks; Mikey worries that you've fallen into a deep sleep from which there is no awakening. He frowns at his childish thoughts before he leans forward and tenderly kisses you to wake you up. You make a soft gasping noise, then reaches out a hand which Mikey takes hold of so he can entwine your fingers together; pressing light kisses against your forehead and eyelids.

Mikey sighs again and starts running a finger over the hollow at the base of your throat, overcome by a familiar sense of ownership but also of obligation; the woman before him is entirely under his power, his command.

You, his wife, are not only his to do with as he pleases in terms of control and manipulation, but also his responsibility to nurture, safeguard, and care for.

Then, with a strong surge of protective compassion, he pulls you closer to him and presses his lips against your forehead. You sigh contentedly and relax into his touch, your eyes fluttering open in a sleepy gaze of appreciation.

Unlike last week, when you announced suddenly wanting to have dorayaki, only to reveal at the last minute that what you really want is pizza, this seems to be one of the rare times when your hormones and weird appetites haven't made you uncomfortable.

A gentle touch to the side of his cheek pulls him back, and he responds to your quiet coo with a rumbling rumble of comfort. When he does, he stoops to run his nose along your neck. You squeal with joy as you snuggle up to him. Your hands went up and got caught in Mikey's silver hair, dragging him closer to you, "Oh, welcome home, Manjiro," you mumbled as your hands moved up to cup Mikey's face.

“I’m home.” In response, he gently pecked you on the cheek until the kiss melted into something more passionate. Mikey's fingertips slid over your warm skin and gently tugged at the loose garments that covered your body.

A gasp escapes you into Mikey's mouth as the buttons on your shirt come undone one by one and the garment is discarded over to the side of the bed.

You let out a hot moan as his one hand rested on your right breast, pinching your swollen nipple. A moan escaped your lips, and you flushed, peering up at Mikey through your eyelashes as he smiled.

Mikey bent down and pinched your nipple again. He sucked viciously on one nipple while pulling with the other, leaving soft bite marks along your flesh. Your body's immediate reaction to your husband was almost too embarrassing to bear.

Mikey kept on sucking your tit, and with one especially forceful sucking, a rush of warm liquid washed into his eager mouth. Smooth and creamy.

Your breasts grew larger and more beautiful and softer than Mikey could have imagined as your pregnancy progressed. He was prepared for physical changes to your body during pregnancy and had researched every possible outcome extensively, yet he was still completely taken aback when you began lactating.

He suckled and lapped at the milk from your breasts until you cum. He makes a contented little noise in the back of his throat as he gulps down your breast milk.

“Fuck, Manjiro,” You cry and writhe under him, getting your fingers tangled in Mikey's hair. He keeps sucking on your nipple, filling his mouth with sweet milk in short bursts. He gulps down as much milk as he can by squeezing your breasts with his bare hand.

“So sweet,” Mikey pulls away enough to mumble and goes straight back to sucking immediately afterward.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you beg, “Please, Manjiro. I want you inside of me now.”

Mikey didn't need to be told twice. He sat up a little and reached down to pull your panties off fully, leaving you naked for him to see. He spread your legs out, bent them at the knees, and put them on the bed.

You recoiled as his finger traced over your clit, and your hips buckled on their own. For a while, Mikey torments you in this manner, simply circling your clit over and over again until you feel desperate enough to start crying.

“Please,” you beg, and you finally get your wish when he starts to push his finger in.

“Ah!” You screamed, arched your back as Mikey's finger slid in. You rolled your hips in time with your husband's, and before you knew it, Mikey had inserted his second finger.

Once Mikey is two fingers deep, he waits, lazily lapping at your nipple until you’re scrabbling at him, desperate for more.

He begins to work you open, the glide easy with all the copious amount of slick you are producing. He pumps his fingers in and out, his pace gentle and teasingly stroking against your g-spot.

“O-oh!” You groan as you gyrate your hips to get a better angle to spear yourself with his talented fingers. “Manjiro, it feels s-so good. More, please.”

Mikey fingers you farther while grinning and kissing your hips. He maintains a relentless pace, increasing the pleasure with each each thrust that brushes against your g-spot. At last, you've had enough of his tormenting. You need his cock.

“Manjiro, p-please,” you beg, rolling your hips frantically on Mikey’s fingers, impatient for more. “I’m r-ready. Please.”

Mikey's dark eyes narrow as he studies you intently before he lets out a hum and draws his fingers away, earning you a discontented whine at the sudden emptiness. You gaped at him as he brought his wet fingers to his lips. Mikey looks directly at you as he starts licking off the slick, causing you to squeal in embarrassment. As if he wasn’t suckling on your breast milk only moments ago.

Mikey looks at the surprise on your face and laughs before leaning in for a brief kiss. “So cute,” he murmurs before sitting back up. “Are you ready?”

In agreement, you open your legs wider as Mikey carefully nestles in between you, taking care not to put much pressure on your swollen stomach.

Mikey presses the tip of his cock against your wet entrance and rubs beads of precum along the folds of your hole before sinking in. The contact burned, but in a deliciously mind-blowing way. Mikey's cock was wrapped in a warm, tight heat, and his fingers quickly found purchase on your soft hips and gripped them like his lifeline. You tighten up around him, and Mikey could feel every flutter of your inner walls as you clenched.

Your body was so soft, smooth, and warm, and Mikey stayed still against you, enjoying the way you moved around him. The Bonten king went deeper inside, and each small push made your legs tremble and spread apart. Finally, Mikey was pressed to the hilt, his balls firmly against your ass.

You stared up at him, eyes glazed over with lust. “Fuck me, Manjiro.”

Mikey closed his eyes for a second because his sweet wife made him feel like he couldn't do anything else. He moved unconsciously, and when he did, you groaned. Mikey shifted again, harder this time, his cock practically stuffing itself inside you.

When you uttered a breathless groan, Mikey knew he had hit your sweet spot. He massaged his cock slowly against it, his cock twitching at the rhythm you provided. Your legs trembled around him as you mewled Mikey's name and whimpered with every prod.

Mikey was taken aback when you began circling your hips and grinding back against his cock, your hips faltering every time his cock reached that sweet area inside that made you nearly pass out.

He shifts and gets a better, deeper angle and then he’s fucking up into you, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mikey fucked into you even more despite the trembling and quaking in your thighs from pleasure and weariness. You pleaded for a kiss with your legs spread as wide as possible. The angle was a little awkward with your swollen belly in the way, but you already had your tongue out and waiting. Mikey leaned in close and grabbed you without delay, sloppily giving you open-mouthed kisses as he thrusts.

As he pulled away from the kiss, Mikey buried his face in your neck and moaned softly at your scent. You continued to quake in his presence as he kissed on some of his markings on your neck, gently biting at the flesh, and he felt your walls tighten around his cock as you squirmed under him.

The pleasure was too intense. The anticipation was palpable; you wanted it to end so badly, but you also didn't want it to. You had only just begun, but it felt like too much already. You were completely overwhelmed.

Mikey kept going at the same, excruciatingly slow rate. He embraced you by placing his right arm around you. Mikey couldn’t get enough of you.

Nothing you did to one other, not even the most passionate thrusts, kisses, moans, and groans, could express the depth of your love for one another. In spite of the fact that you expressed your affection for one another on a daily basis, today was the first time you truly felt it.

You gently yanked on Mikey's hair, eliciting a muffled sigh from him. Mikey raised his head and smiled slightly at you. You could feel your toes curling at Mikey's gorgeous smile, which he solely flashed you. Nobody else had ever seen Mikey's soft side.

Mikey raised his left hand to sweep the hair away from your damp brow. He held his hand there and kissed your lips gently. You kept kissing each other on the lips.

And you were close. You could feel it.

“Manjiro“ you moaned as you attempted to lift yourself up from the bed. “Lift me up please.” You extended your arms in front of you. Mikey nodded and drew his arms beneath you, being cautious not to put pressure on your stomach.

Mikey sat on his knees, not faltering in his thrusts.

“A-Ah yes just like that !” You cocked your head. This angle provided unparalleled pleasure. You were relieved that Mikey was strong enough to support you in this way. You placed your hand between your bodies and began rubbing your clit. “God, Manjiro, I’m so close.”

“Me too.” Mikey puffs as he flies in with a harder, faster thrust than previously. “Baby,” he breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.“

Mikey gasped and continued thrusting. He hid his head in the crook of your neck again. His fingers dug into the bottom of your thighs. “You feel amazing,” Mikey grunted.

You kept on rubbing your clit as you slid your free arm closer to Mikey's head and leaned closer to let him hear your moans.

“Fuck – I’m gonna cum,” Mikey warned. When he started to pull out, you whined and clung to his back, wrapping your legs around his.

“Manjiro I want it inside, wanna feel all of it.” You admitted.

It was all too overwhelming. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. It was as if all of your senses had disappeared except for his touch – you couldn’t hear or see anything as you reveled in pleasure.

You didn't know if you were still moaning or not. All you could think about was how good it felt to be with Mikey, and that was enough to send you over the edge.

You let out a loud squeal as you came hard. As your orgasm went on, you continued to shake. You stared into space as the waves of your intense orgasm made your body shiver. It was so, so much. Your body twitched, your legs shook, and your toes curled.

Mikey could tell that you were tightening your grip on his cock.

With a low grunt, he slowed down to a stop and came inside. You can feel the jerking throb of his cock inside you. The wet squelch of your walls sucking his cum in deeper, pulling it into your already heavy womb. He grind his hips into you, pressing his cum deeper and deeper as he held you, almost in a death grip, not wanting to let go of you. His knees started to shake, and he started to thrust a little bit to ride out his orgasm.

And then silence. Your groans are stopping. You were still shaking when Mikey held you.

He finally put you back on the bed with care, and you whimpered as you fell back. Mikey slowly pulled away as he watched his seed slowly come out of you.

“I love you so much,” Mikey whispered into your ear.

You sighed and took a deep breath, “I love you too, Manjiro.”

Once you’re both settled under the covers you let out a loud yawn.

“Okay, I’m so tired now,” you said slowly. You could feel Mikey's smile on your shoulder and your husband's warm hands moving around on your swollen stomach, where you could feel your baby’s lively kicks, “She’s angry. Think we woke her–.”

“Yeah, we definitely woke her.” He chuckles softly.

Sleep was finally taking you again. Even though you couldn't be sure, you heard somewhere in the midst of his quiet voice whispering to your stomach and his gentle kisses on your neck, the words "love" and "you" and other sweet nothings stuff.

Come on Barbie let’s go party

Hi! I saw your kirishima wedding post and was wondering if you wrote for Todoroki? It's like a proposal but Todoroki and Reader are best friends and his dad doesn't like reader. And one day they're having fun, and Todoroki just says "I have an idea. How about we get married?" And it's random, he was probably mad at his dad and maybe had secret feeling for reader, that they reciprocate, they're like 18, probably still in UA and run off and get married. And if it's not to much may I please ask for his dad's reaction and class 1-A's reaction to being told they ran off one night and just got hitched lmao

you are brilliant nonny, so sorry it's taken so long to get to this! i was on hiatus and have now returned, i hope this is worth the wait ily

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are many truths in this world. Among them are horrid nightmarish things, like hate and doom, death and dread. Enji Todoroki hates you. But also, among them are love and lust, creation and joy. Shoto Todoroki loves you.

You are laying in the floor of Shoto's dorm room, it's after hours. The world outside is oppressive, the air is thick with judgment beyond the walls you and your best friend are locked behind. Soon you will graduate, soon you will be a rescue hero. You will achieve what you've lived for all these years, you'll pull victims from burning buildings, you'll supervise evacuations during natural disasters, you'll be constantly working in the background to make sure citizens are safe. Your quirk allows temporary manipulation of time, it's not flashy and you've never cared to make it appear that way. You've never been bells and whistles, you will never be the publicized hero everyone looks up to. Shoto, however, he will be all of that. He will be on the front lines protecting citizens from threats that walk among them. You will clear the area for him and heroes like him, and he will take it from there. You will tend to the wounded, and he will make sure you won't have more to tend to. At the end of the day, it will be his name in the news. You will both be busy; you will probably lose your best friend to those 'long days' your hero mother complains about so often.

That's still a month or so away. Tonight, you evade fate. Tonight, you are not the hero Shoto and the rescue hero Full Stop. Tonight, you are Shoto, the teenager, and Y/n, his best friend.

"Y/n, do you think we'll be good?" Shoto asks, staring at the ceiling as he lays beside you.

"Good what?" You turn to look at the side of Shoto's face, studying his profile and committing every sharp edge to memory.

"Just good," he doesn't even glance at you, and his face gives away no emotion. "I want to be good."

You hum in acknowledgement, closing your eyes as you think over his question. Your knee-jerk response is to assure him that yes obviously you're both going to be good, but he's worth more than that. He deserves introspection. Finally, you open your eyes again to find him staring at you. "Yes." You say, a sense of finality in your voice. "We will be good."

His eyes flicker over your face for a moment, as though looking for any possible hesitation in your features, then he nods, seemingly satisfied. "It's been a long three years." Shoto says, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn't look away from you, just keeps his eyes locked on yours.

"Yes," you agree, reaching forward to push a strand of hair out of his eyes, "It has been a very long three years. We've almost made it, you know. Do you know where you'll start out?"

"Mm," now he does look away, face distorting in evident discomfort. "I'll be with my father's agency, for now."

"I see." There's nothing else to respond with, other than perhaps 'my condolences,' but that hardly seems appropriate in the presence of your best friend's grief. Suddenly his question makes much more sense. "You will be good," you assure him, "You are good."

He says nothing, but his hand finds yours between the two of you. Your fingers intertwine, and you do not comment on how his fingers twitch. You hold his hand, and you keep studying the features of the one person you feel at home next to, and soon you speak again. "We never got to be children."

"No, we didn't," Shoto admits with a sigh, squeezing your hand before he stands up. "Would you like to be children tonight?"

You stare up at him in slight shock, eyes flickering between his face and the hand he's outstretched to you. Your smile is crooked and warm and all things good as you take his hand. He pulls you up with more force than necessary, and you end up stumbling into him. He's the only one who's ever managed to make you stumble, and you think maybe it's because you trust him to catch you.

"Let's go then," Shoto says, because of course you don't even have to say anything for him to know your answer. He leads you out of his room, checking that no one's around before the two of you trek down to the common room.

You're the only ones still awake this late at night, so you make sure the volume on the tv is turned down sufficiently low as you sit together. He turns on the television, and he finds the most inane, childish film available.

"I'm not quite sure what happens now," Shoto admits twenty minutes in, squinting at the screen in confusion. "Isn't this meant to be funny?"

"Yes, I'm not seeing the appeal either." You sigh and reach for the remote, turning off the television. "We could try baking. Isn't that something teenagers do together? Cookies?"

He nods solemnly. "Yes, that happens often in the manga I read."

"Excellent, to the kitchen we go, then." You lead the way, this time, pulling Shoto along by the wrist.

This time it really is fun. You play music through your earbuds, sharing with Shoto as you work side by side. You both try your hardest to be quiet, so no one wakes up, leaning in to mumble comments in one another's ear, then snickering as you try to hold back your laughter. Soon your cookies are safely in the oven, and the two of you are covered in various ingredients. You turn toward one another, dissolving into quiet laughter when you see the mess you've made of one another. The music continues to play in your ears, and the laughter leaves you breathless as you wipe away a smudge of flour from Shoto's cheek.

"This is very fun," You admit, beaming. "I don't believe I've ever made a mess like this before. My mother would have killed me."

Shoto laughs, threading gentle fingers through your hair to get rid of the flour and sugar you'd somehow managed to get in it. "I don't think I have, either. I never saw the point."

"We are... a mess." You remark, and laughter falls from your lips following the last word. All barriers fall down, tomorrow does not exist when you allow yourself to fall against Shoto.

"We are, aren't we?" Shoto sighs, but he doesn't push you off of him. Quite the opposite, actually, he wraps a single arm around you. "It would be nice if we could have this often. Moments come and go so very quickly."

"I could freeze time for a moment, if you'd like," You offer, not bothering to look up.

"No, no, I think I've a better idea." Finally, Shoto pushes you away, holding you at arm's length and forcing you to meet his eye by tipping your head up by the chin. "What if we got married?"

Time literally stands still as you stare at Shoto, the timer on the oven freezes at three minutes. You're so shocked you've activated your quirk. Once you realize you quickly deactivate, then you're quickly addressing Shoto. "What? Have you gone mad? We aren't even dating-We're barely eighteen!"

"Wouldn't it be wonderful, though?" Shoto says, for once throwing all caution to the wind. "Would it be so horrid? To be married to me?"

In truth, no, it wouldn't be horrid at all. It would be brilliant. To know you'd never have to leave Shoto's side for longer than a day of work... To know that you would be connected by more than fate, that sounds truly wonderful. It would be an honor to love and be loved by Shoto Todoroki, but you can't help but wonder where this has come from. "Is this because of what your dad said the other day? That you shouldn't waste your time with me? Because, Sho, that doesn't give you permission to waste your life on me."

"No, it's nothing to do with that. Pissing off my father is only an added bonus. And it wouldn't be a waste, nothing with you is a waste." God, he sounds so sure, so certain that he wants a life with you.

"You've not given me a ring," you say simply, quietly. "And is my first kiss to be at the altar?"

He surprises you for a second time, then, by pressing his lips against yours so gently you think maybe you're going to wake up any moment, this whole night another dream. "I can get you a ring," he says, holding onto you by the shoulders. "I can get you whatever you want, I can be whatever you want."

"I think I just want you." It's hard to admit out loud, you'd only recently come to terms with it yourself. "God, you've really gone mad."

He grins, a true unfiltered grin that is so rare from Shoto. How could you ever deny that grin? "I think I lost my mind a long time ago."

"I think I may be even more insane than you," You whisper, gravitating back toward Shoto's lips. "Because I think I'm going to say yes."

He kisses you again, and he only pulls away when the timer for your cookies goes off. You're shocked into another round of laughter, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. You watch in quiet introspection as he pulls the cookies from the oven. When Shoto turns back to you, he's met with more questions.

"When will we get married? Who will we invite?"

"Tonight," the response is immediate, "We'll get married tonight. We'll go to one of those twenty-four-hour chapels, just the two of us. I'll get you a plastic ring for now, then I'll buy you whatever you want later. Unless you want a big wedding, in which case I suppose I could make a few calls..."

This time you kiss him, knocking him out of his thoughts. "I never cared for lavish parties, I think it would be perfect, just the two of us."

The two of you pack your book-bags for an overnight trip before sneaking out of the dorms. Your heart is racing as your brain begins to catch up with just what the two of you are going through with. You don’t think you’ll have any regrets, but what about him? You have to be sure that this isn’t a fucked act of rebellion he’ll regret come sunrise.

You grab his arm before he gets all the way over the fence, worrying your bottom lip. “Are you sure about this?”

He stares in silence for a moment, then offers a calm smile as he takes your hand off his arm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” Then he’s bailing over the side of the fence, and you can’t help but laugh when he falls on his ass.

You follow after him, and the two of you share a wild glance before you’re running off into the night.

Soon enough you’re at some gimmicky chapel in the next town over, and they’ve not yet recognized either of you. They believe you’re just another pair of young lovers, running away together. For a moment you let yourself believe that, too.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you stand in front of Shoto, your best friend and confidant for the past three years. You’ve spent your whole lives restrained by tradition, it’s fitting that you find yourselves here now. You’re getting married as your first date, you have plastic rings you won from a claw machine in the mall, a man dressed as the main character from a popular manga is officiating your wedding.

You seal your fate with a kiss, and just like that you’re the first of your friends to get married.

“My mom’s going to beat my ass for letting her miss this,” you say through joyful laughter, leaning against Shoto.

He snorts at that, tracing shapes on your back. “If my father werent so concerned with image, I believe he would disown me.”

“If only you could be so lucky.”

You have to stop Shoto from uploading a picture to his social media right there. You owe it to your friends to let them hear the news from the two of you. He agrees, albeit reluctantly, and you begin the journey back to school. You make it in time for your first class, and no one really questions where you were at breakfast. When Ochako notices the ring on your finger, however, everything goes to shit.

“Y/n, you don’t wear jewelry. Where’d that ring come from?” She asks, head tilted to the side in genuine confusion.

“We got hitched last night.” You respond simply before taking another bite of your lunch.

Chopsticks clatter against the table as everyone but Shoto turns to look at you in shock. “Hitched? Like married?”

You hum in agreement, not looking up from your lunch as you crack a slight grin.

“To who?”

“Me,” Shoto responds before you get the chance, unceremoniously showing off his matching ring.

The questions are unending from everyone around you. The reactions range from Ochako asking how long you’d been dating in secret to Tenya scolding you for rushing into such an important decision. You don’t respond to their prodding, you don’t think they’d believe you if you did tell them everything. You don’t protest as Shoto takes a picture of your ring, grinning in amusement as you realize what he must be doing.

You get a notification that you’ve been tagged in a post, and it’s a picture of your hand with the caption ‘just married’ and you’re delighted to find that Shoto had tagged his father as well.

Elsewhere in Japan, Endeavor is all but burning his office to the ground in a fit of hatred and rage. Your quirk is not compatible with Shoto’s, your mother is an underground hero he’s deemed unworthy of praise, and your aspirations are far from meeting his high standards for a spouse for his son. You are everything he hates most in this world.

Shoto is smiling brilliantly when he drags you to his dorm room that evening, it’s the brightest smile you’ve ever seen grace his features. He tells you everything about how he’d felt for you for the last year, and how it all came to a head last night. Your desire for a career is based on a desire to save people rather than a desire for fame and recognition. You hold Shoto to a higher standard as a person than you do as a hero. You’ve looked his father in the eye and called him a boot-licking racist. Your quirk has the potential for extreme power, yet you refuse to use it for anything other than ensuring the safety of others. You love deeply and wholeheartedly. You are everything Shoto holds dearest in this world.

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days. 

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic. 

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies. 

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie. 

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant: 

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy. 

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in. 

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

彡YOU'RE NOT MINE

a/n- i am in love with this man we should have had him in this arc we were ROBBED having to wait till tenrou just to see him again is insane

˗ˏˋ«────── « 𓆩♡𓆪 » ──────»

"everything is so strange here, like what's up with lucy." you mumbled to wendy while pointing at lucy who had natsu in one of her 'techniques' "I know right everything is odd, it's like they're completely different people-"

"what are you two doing under the table?" the two of you jumped at the sound of the voice, however, the voice was familiar to you and despite the accusation that scared you out of your skin it was almost soothing.

you and wendy stood up from under the table and you made eye contact with the person who called you out, at the sight of each other your eyes went wide and your jaws fell slack.

"y/n?" "laxus?" the two of you spoke in unison, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and tell him how you missed him and thought of him every single day, but, you knew he wasn't your laxus. you could only assume he came to the same realization as you, his shock was replaced with longing, and his arms rested awkwardly at his sides as he hesitated to reach out to you "can we speak outside? we kind of have an audience" he nodded his head to his guildmembers and your guildmembers who started in shock "sure."

you leaned against the outside of the guild, shuffling your feet awkwardly speechless at his presence.

"i know you're not my y/n, you're so familiar to me yet so different to me at the same time" he chuckled "it's freaky." you noticed how he awkwardly had his hands in his pockets, the nervousness on laxus wasn't something you were used to it was cute even if you were ever able to see him again you couldn't wait to tell him about this world.

"if it's not too much trouble for you what happened to me? err... the y/n of this world i mean." you spoke gently not wanting to overstep your bounds.

"you were expelled, right before the master died you were reckless and challenged the kingdom putting everyone in danger, so as a result you were expelled from the guild."

you laughed "how ironic, the laxus i know was the one who got expelled he was a real piece of work. he's also not this nervous" you teased. he couldn't help but be embarrassed, with his y/n's face being the same as yours your comment got to him, and he looked away from you to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

for him, the sound of your voice was everything, you've been gone for who knows how long, and he would have given anything to see you again. he knows you're not his, maybe it's just fate playing a cruel fate on the two of you but deep down even if your respective lovers were from two different worlds, the two of you were glad you could see your loves again.