jesspava
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Now that Kunimi could operate with the full extent of his license to kill, there was almost nothing he couldn’t get his hands on, barring the more official rides to and from stations. He snuck onto cargo holds or piloted himself—just a cruiser chipped under Federation nav—which was in itself a little hysterical considering he worked without the typical grace of his commander, but Kunimi’s commander was dead, and he had a mission to fulfill.
Kageyama Tobio, now the Sixth Star of Lord Kozume’s retinue, would not be an easy man to find.
Series
- Part 2 of Heavenly Bodies
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“Tooru, Tooru, look,” Iwaizumi said, as impatiently as he could. “It’s shifting. I thought—down there, I thought it was a malform, but I didn’t have time to check—”
Oikawa took the sphere from him. It trilled light and lovely. Codebits revolved around its glass core. There was a band of silver that crossed its midline, splitting it into uneven thirds. Even to Kunimi’s technologically obtuse eye, it was truly and undeniably beautiful, because it looked exactly like an apparatus that Kageyama Tobio had built.
Series
- Part 1 of Heavenly Bodies
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The poor kid eats praise up like nothing else, though he's been busy repressing his desires for years. He's always trying to hide, but Kunimi never lets him. Kageyama, for all his silence, is easy. His, Kunimi’s, and easy.
or: sly little foxes always get their way
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all this but a firework by jesspava
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
07 Apr 2020
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Summary
“Does it hurt?” the doctors ask.
Bakugo huffs, impatient. “Of course it fucking hurts.”
His doctor scribbles something down on her clipboard. Then: “Where would you say the pain is most severe?”
Bakugo's nostrils flare. He has to swallow past something hard in his throat every time they ask him that. It’s fine, he thinks to himself. He’ll give them this, at least.
“Here,” he says reluctantly, putting a clumsy hand to his chest. His fingers are still wrapped up like matchsticks. Bakugo has to grit his teeth around the ache between his ribs. “Hurts th’most right here.”
(or—Bakugo and Todoroki lose Midoriya on a bad mission)
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“Hurts, lemme go,” Kageyama complains. It’s hardly eight, but he’s already exhausted; Ushijima climbs into bed behind him. He’ll probably watch over Kageyama for a bit to make sure he won’t choke on his own spit in his sleep and die or something.
Kageyama grumbles. Fucking alphas.
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Summary
Namjoon's been in the NHL for six years, handpicked barely a day from high school graduation for a professional title and a seven figure paycheck; Hoseok a rising star since his Junior Grand Prix days. Love was never part of the deal.
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