#but hes like. yeah my crowning moment is being in this league

[pulchral]

lucas lee the only character ever in the whole franchise.

[kaciidubs]

Ass or Tits?

❣ Summary: The question of 'ass or tits' never truly mattered when you had a group of men who loved all of you. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 6.4k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, fluff, light Dom/Sub dynamics, creampie(s), squirting, cum play, referenced after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Mommy, Miss, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Bub, Kitten, Jagi, Noona, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“Hey, Hyune?”

The artist hummed as he sketched away at his desk, “Yeah?”

“What do you like better, ass or tits?”

He froze, dropping the charcoal pencil as your words ran through his head on repeat.

“Your ass or tits?”

There was no way he was about to get caught in an infamous partner discourse, not after years of being immune to other futile debates brought on by a certain freckle-faced fairy.

You scoffed out a laugh, rolling onto your stomach from your resting place on his bed, “I mean, I’d hope you’d be talking about my ass or tits, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin whipped his head toward you, eyebrows pushing to his hairline, “W-Well how am I supposed to know!?  This is one of the questions every person dreads! You’re expecting me to pick one or the other on one of my favorite people in the world? What then? Are you going to ask me ‘acrylic or charcoal’? Because I’ll have you know, those are two very different mediums and-”

“Hyunjin, baby - it’s just a question!” Stifling a chuckle, you shook your head, “It’s not like I’m going to ban you from sex if you pick something I didn’t expect - I’m just curious, you know? All of you have different preferences and even though after two years I can kind of make a good guess, I wanna hear it from the sources.”

His shoulders relaxed, visibly slumping in his chair and running his cleaner hand through his short hair, “You’re stressing me out, muse! Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m so sorry, my little drama queen - now, pick!”

Dark eyes scanned your figure, his head cocking to the side and if you looked closer you could’ve seen the gears turning in his brain.

“Mm… Tits.”

“I knew it.”

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me basic?”

“No, my prince, I’m calling you predictable,” getting off of the bed, you walked toward him and pinched his cheek lovingly, “you grope Changbin’s chest like it’s your job, and there’s rarely a moment your hand isn’t on my chest when we’re cuddling. Now, go wash up - we’re meeting in Chris’s room.”

With a quick kiss to the crown of his head, you walked out of his room with your phone in hand, thumbs typing away in your group chat.

|❣️: Chris’s room asap 💋

“So… Is there a reason why we were summoned? To Chan’s room, no less?” Minho hummed inquisitively, picking up a small souvenir from the eldest’s dresser and turning it in his hands.

“If this is an intervention about League, I swear I didn’t mean to yell that night - I honestly didn’t think anyone heard me!” Came Felix’s whine of defense, already making himself a home on the California king bed, “Seungmin was throwing the game on purpose and I was losing against this stupid-”

“That’s crazy.” Seungmin gaped, faux shock on his face as he purposefully rolled on top of the Aussie, a muffled groan getting caught in the midst of it all. “I told you not to put too much trust in me!”

“Lixie, hate to break it to you, but this definitely isn’t an intervention, but we’ll come back to that point later.” Clapping your hands, you took in the rest of the members who either piled onto the bed, doubled up in Chris’s computer chair, or stood against the door frame. “Anyways - I called you guys here because I have a question!”

“I’d peel a pineapple for you if you asked.”

The room went silent as all eyes shot to Jisung who was currently seated in Minho’s lap, a triumphant smile on his pretty lips.

“I… No, Jisung, it’s not that question, but I’ll remember your answer when I do ask.” Willing away the confused looks sent your way, you cleared your throat, “The actual question is; which do each of you like better - my ass, or my tits?”

The room broke into an uproar, various voices speaking over one another as some questioned the validity of the question while others argued their respective points.

“Noona, you really think we can just pick one thing to like about you?”

Minho scoffed, “I can - her ass, easily.”

“Oh… Shit, you’re right.”

“Jeongin?! Weren’t you just saying you couldn’t pick?!”

“Hyung, that was before I was reminded of how her ass looks in her pajama shorts - you can’t tell me that’s not the hottest sight.”

“I can because I chose her tits!”

Felix laughed, holding his hand up for an air high-five, “I was gonna pick her tits too, Jinnie!”

“This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Seungmin mumbled, throwing an arm over his face, though it did nothing to cover the redness of his ears.

“Bunny, you know you’re more than just your body parts, right?”

You nodded enthusiastically, “Binnie, I’m well aware - I’m just asking for the fun of it, it’s nothing deeper than that!”

Changbin hummed, fluffy curls shifting with the movement, “In that case, I’m team ass - it’s just so cute and round and-” He lifted his hand, squeezing the air as if it were your ass cheeks with a dreamy sigh, “-god, I love it.”

“Okay but, what if we can’t pick?” Jisung piped up, a soft pout puffing his cheeks, “There’s no way I can just choose one - look at you, you’re fucking sexy, Jagi!”

“The oral fixation says boobs, Han, there’s no way out of it.”Felix deadpanned from his place on the bed, his head turned to nail the man with a mischievous glint, “Trust me, I know.”

The latter’s eyes flicked to your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts in the loose fabric with ease. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right - her tits are amazing.”

“Alright, Chan and Seungmin, you two are the only ones left - make your choice!” Hyunjin demanded lightly, gesturing his hand toward your body from his seat next to you, “Tits or ass? Ass or tits? Which one is it?”

“I’m not playing this game,” the youngest of the two mumbled, his position unchanged.

“Oh, come on, Seungmin! She said it herself, it’s just for fun, she won’t take any offense to what you choose,” Felix prodded, wiggling his body next to his boyfriend, “and we won’t make fun of you if you pick something we didn’t expect.”

“Yeah, puppy,” reaching down, you threaded your fingers through his black hair, “whatever you pick is fine with me, and if anyone makes fun of you for it, they won’t get anything from me for a week.”

That roused a small chuckle from him as he moved his arm, looking up at you with soft eyes, “Really? You think you could go that long?”

“For my Seungmin? Of course. Now, which is it, baby?”

His lips quivered, struggling between forming words and keeping his solitude until he finally murmured, “I like your thighs.”

“That wasn’t even an-”

You quieted Hyunjin with a glare, “Finish that sentence and that’s the only thing you’ll be finishing near me, Hwang.”

“Aw- I wanna change my answer, her thighs are fucking amazing too!” Jisung all but wailed, practically having a full on meltdown, “When you’re eating her out and she wraps them around your head like earmuffs - they’re so warm but you can’t hear her moans when she does it so it’s just a horrible, beautiful curse!”

“No changing your answer, Sungie, you’re still team tits.” 

Now, all the attention was directed to the only one left; Chris, still leaning against the doorway of his room with an embarrassed flush on his face - nothing preparing him for this conversation that pulled him from the sanctity of his laundry run.

“Well, Chris? What do you like?” You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, knowing full and well that everyone already knew what their boyfriend would pick.

“Ah- You’re seriously going to make me say it?!”

“Come on, Chan, we all said ours, no matter how obvious,” Changbin sent a side eye in an unbothered Minho’s direction, “some of ours may have been.”

The eldest sighed, dropping his head before bringing it up once again, “I like your ass, baby.”

Scoffing, Felix crawled across Seungmin to get closer to you, “I don’t understand how you guys can pick her ass over these,” his hand quickly found home over one of your breasts, gently squeezing the mound over your shirt and earning a shocked gasp in return, “like, how could you not want to suffocate in them?”

“Especially with how sensitive her nipples are?” Hyunjin chimed in, claiming your other breast with his larger hand, jiggling and watching the ripples from your shirt in response.

“Oh my god- The sound she makes when you suck on them?” The bed dipped with a new weight, Jisung making his way onto the bed, causing Jeongin to crawl over and straddle Seungmin. “You guys are seriously missing out.”

Changbin groaned, “It’s not like we don’t like them, we just love her ass more, there’s a difference, Ji.”

In the meantime, you couldn’t help the small sighs of pleasure escaping you as the duo continued to fondle you over your shirt, Jisung taking the hem into his hands.

“Can we, Jagi?”

You nodded happily, “You can, Sungie.”

Hyunjin and Felix pulled back as he lifted your shirt up and off, tossing it off the edge of the bed without a care in the world - why would he, when your tits were on display for him and the men that admired them?

“Why don’t we all take the chance to really admire our favorite parts about you, my muse?” 

Hyunjin’s sultry voice easily floated through the air, the hidden implications more than enough for the atmosphere to ignite with lust.

“Are you ready, angel?”

You blinked up at Felix with dazzling eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips, “Of course, Lixie.”

In the background, you could hear the familiar sounds of panted breaths and the rustling of clothing, but you wouldn’t dare to turn your head from the scene in front - or, rather, above you. 

Hyunjin took the role of straddling your torso while Felix and Jisung kneeled at the sides of your head without even a hint of the clothing that once covered their bodies.

“Innie, can you pass me the lube?”

Jeongin broke from Seungmin’s lips with a groan, narrowing his eyes, “Why can’t you just spit on it, Hyung? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Because I asked you to? If I felt like spitting I would’ve done it already,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly, catching the glimpse of Jisung guiding his dick into your mouth from the corner of his eye, “don’t be a smartass!”

“Smarta-”

The youngest was unceremoniously flipped onto his back, the black haired singer reaching into the nightstand and tossing over a bottle of lube with a huff.

“Seriously, it was never that big of a deal, you brat.”

Snatching up the tube, Hyunjin wasted no time in squeezing a generous amount between the valley of your breasts, humming out a small apology when you jumped at the cold gel on your skin.

“Forget what I said,” Jisung moaned softly, watching the way your cheeks puffed and hollowed with each drag of his cock, “your mouth is my favorite part.”

Pulling off of him with a pop, you pumped him with your right hand and tossed him a teasing smirk, “You’re still team tits, Sungie.”

Turning your head, you eagerly welcomed Felix’s dick with an eager tongue lapping at the precum beading the tip before taking him in one fell swoop.

“That doesn’t take away from the fact that your mouth is fucking amazing, sunshine.” Felix groaned, bringing a hand to cup your cheek as he lightly thrust into your leisurely bobs.

“Especially for the fact that we’re here for these.” Hyunjin’s lube covered hands squeezed your breasts around his length, the swells positively shining as they sandwiched his cock in an unparalleled warmth.

It wasn’t long until an unplanned rhythm was found between the four of you; alternating between blowjobs and handjobs for the sunshine twins while a certain artist busied himself with a simple rhythm of humping your chest.

In the meantime, Changbin managed to swap positions with Minho for the chair, sitting the second eldest in his lap and littering slow kisses paired with sharp nips along the length of his neck while he watched the show before them.

“Chan, you’re not going to just stand there the whole time, are you?” Minho mused with a raised eyebrow, noting the way the eldest hadn’t even moved a muscle from his spot near the door.

Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, “No, but I’m doing laundry - I don’t wanna get sidetracked and forget about it in the wash, you know?”

There was a disinterested hum followed by a huff he knew all too well, and he found himself pushing off of the doorway with a breathless laugh.

“You have such a way with words, you know that?”

Smirking, Minho shrugged, “I know, it’s a talent.”

Standing in front of the two - and inadvertently blocking the once flawless view - Chris planted his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning down to catch Minho's lips in a slow kiss, just to part a moment later to do the same with Changbin over his shoulder.

“A-Ah- Tighten your hand a little, Jagi.”

“You have hands,” Hyunjin panted, licking his lips as he watched his pink tip repeatedly disappear and reappear, “help her out- fuck, Lix…”

The blond hummed against his neck, licking at a blossoming hickey, “‘M sorry, just feels so good.”

“Hyune, move your hand a bit.”

Abiding the request, Hyunjin slid his hand to the outer swell of your breast while Jisung licked his fingers before easily finding their way to your nipple, gently rolling the nub between his finger and thumb.

The moan you let out was instantly muffled by Felix’s cock, which in turn made him grit out a shivering groan, “F-Fuck, I’m gonna come soon.”

“M-Me too,” Jisung nodded frantically, eyes trained on the way his hand enveloped yours as he fucked your fist, “gonna paint those pretty tits of yours, Jagi.”

It only took a handful of strokes before Felix was drawing from your mouth with frantic breaths, Jisung slipping from your soiled hand to take over the rest of the job as they both aimed for your chest.

“God, look at how gorgeous they look wrapped around Jinnie’s dick.”

“They were just made to have a dick between them, huh?”

You groaned helplessly, bringing your hands to cover Hyunjin’s and squish your breasts together more, “C-Come on, show mommy how much you love her tits.”

If there was one thing to get them to fall, it was that title - and, like a harp string being plucked, they both came with a sharp gasp and a guttural groan, cum spraying across your breasts and a few drops even landing on your fingers.

Hyunjin shivered above you, eyebrows drawing together with the silver eyebrow piercing catching the glint of the light.

“I can see you’re close, Hyune,” squeezing his hands lightly, you watched as Jisung and Felix flocked to him, hands wandering his chest while lips danced along his shoulders and neck, “come for Miss, my prince, make a mess of me.”

A choked moan fell past his lips as his hips stuttered before he lifted himself onto his knees and came against your breasts, his cum joining the mess of the other two with ease and creating an intricate pattern of white along your skin.

Jisung dipped down to lick a fat stripe through the cum, collecting as much as he could onto his tongue before pulling Felix in for a beautifully messy kiss above you - then repeated the process with Hyunjin, leaving you in a state of horny awe.

“Seungmin, you’re up next.” Felix called happily, swiping his thumb along your breast before presenting it to your lips and watched as you eagerly licked it clean. “You’re so kinky.”

You stifled a laugh, giving the pad of his thumb a soft kiss, “You’re one to talk.”

The trio moved away to make room for the thigh connoisseur, watching as he untangled himself from Jeongin and shuffled between your legs - your pajama shorts and underwear having already met the same fate as your t-shirt moments ago.

“I… I don’t think I’m gonna last long,” he mumbled quietly, a strawberry blush turning his ears as he nudged the leaking head of his cock against the plush of your inner thigh. “Might’ve pushed it a bit too close with Innie.”

“That’s more than okay, pup,” reaching your hand out, you grabbed the lube before handing it to him, “if it bothers you, you can always have a round two later, okay?”

Seungmin nodded dutifully, taking the lube from you while tapping your legs, prompting you to lift them both and lean them on his chest; pouring a generous amount of lube in the palm of his hand to coat around his length.

With a bit of maneuvering, he had both of your calves resting on his right shoulder with his dick nestled in the tight space between your thighs and just above your pelvis - if you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat of his balls against the lips of your pussy.

“M-Mm, fuck…” Wrapping his right arm around your legs, his left hand went down to grip the outside of your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he jutted his hips forward with a quiet moan.

You watched on as he fucked your thighs in quick, sharp thrusts, brown eyes fogged and unfocused as he began to chase the high that was undoubtedly close.

“Good puppy, my good puppy - love my thighs so much, hm? Maybe one of these days I should get you to hump one, would you like that?”

You could clock the faint twinkle in his eye from a mile away, catching the subtle pout of his lips as his body rocked against yours without rhyme but with the sole reason of finishing.

His blush now crawled across his face, tinting the apples of his cheeks as his eyes found yours, “Really?”

Humming, you flexed your thighs, “Really, pup, I’d love to watch you ride me.”

He whimpered, blunt nails digging into your skin as his head dropped to nip at your ankle, “W-Want that, bub - want it so bad.”

“Then it’s yours, Minnie. I’m all yours.”

The next thrust forward had ropes of white streaking up the length of your stomach, breathless moans hidden behind firmly pressed lips as Seungmin shook against your legs, tensing and shaking with each wave until he finally relaxed with a shaky breath.

“You okay, pup?”

Nodding, he gave you a soft smile, “Yeah, but you better not forget your promise.”

You laughed, accepting a kiss to your ankle as a parting gift as he moved away from you and into the arms of a lounging Hyunjin - the comment of him being “disgustingly sweaty”, and Hyunjin’s response of “Then get off of me!”, not going unnoticed in the process.

Turning your gaze to the ceiling, a knowing smile grew on your lips, “Do I even have to ask who’s going next?”

“Nope!” Sliding into view came your darling bread, a smug grin on his lips as his face hovered over yours, “You don’t even have to guess, I’m already here.”

Bringing your hand to his jaw, you lightly scratched your nails under his chin, “Of course you are, maknae - so, how do you want me? Doggy style? Reverse cowgirl? Some secret third position I have yet to learn?”

Judging from the sparkle of his eyes the instant the second option left your lips, he had his decision already cut out and you laughed at his inability to be discreet.

“Alright, I guess this is to make up for slacking on leg day, isn’t it?”

Jeongin rolled onto his back, watching as you straddled him with ease, “You’d have to ask Changbin Hyung about that, Noona - you were the one who suggested it anywa- ah!”

You didn’t need to waste time in teasing yourself as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, lining it up with your severely neglected pussy before sinking down in one fell swoop - a satisfied moan leaving your lips.

“O-Oh god, maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”

“Oh? And what makes you say that, baby?”

Of course, you already knew the answer judging from the way his calves tensed, his toes curled and - less externally obvious - the way his dick twitched inside of your warm walls.

“Noona, please-”

“Have a little too much fun with Minnie, huh? Got yourself all excited while you were waiting?” Clicking your tongue, you rolled your hips teasingly, “I bet you were touching yourself while Seungmin was having his turn, weren’t you, baby boy?”

He whined, tossing his head back with a groan, “Just- Just give me a minute, I swear I’ll last!”

Humming, you waited a few seconds before shaking your head, “Sorry, Innie, if you come early then that’s just how it is - just lay back and enjoy the view, okay? This is what you wanted, remember?”

With no other choice, the sounds of your joined moans soon filled the room as you rode him with one goal on your mind.

“Fuck, look at that view…” Neither one of you were aware of Changbin’s sudden presence beside the bed as he leaned beside Jeongin, basking in the sight of your ass jiggling with each bounce. “I’ll never get over it.”

“I-” Jeongin whimpered, short huffs of breaths escaping him, “T-This is the first time-”

“-she’s ridden reverse cowgirl?! IN-ah, what were you waiting for?!”

“It’s not that he was waiting,” you laughed breathlessly, though the clench of your pussy earned a moan in its wake, “he was just too excited to try everything else that normal positions were at the bottom of his list.”

“What a shame, wasting his chance like this.”

Lifting your head, you were now met with the sight of Minho directly in front of you, keen eyes unblinking as he took you in with a smirk.

“Is it a waste, Min?” Slowing your bounces to languid strokes, your head tilted prettily to the side, “I’d like to think of it as an introduction to what future chances would be like.”

This time, his smirk reached his eyes, brown irises sparkling with amusement, “You naughty kitten.” His hand cupped your cheek as he dipped down to steal a kiss, nipping at your bottom lip in the process.

You preened at the sensation, but the moan that followed came from the firm grip on the swell of your ass cheek, the hand and the pressure stemming from two different forms of familiarity.

“See? What did I tell you?” Changbin smirked, squeezing his hand over Jeongin’s to tighten his grip on your ass, “You can watch all you want, but the real fun is in touching.”

The younger groaned out a desperate sound, “‘M g-gonna-”

At the hint of his confession, you forfeited the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours for the opportunity to go back to bouncing on Jeongin’s dick without abandon, fisting the sheets to distract from the unyielding burn in your thighs.

“-a-ah- p-please- N-Noona, oh god, I-” He cut himself off with a choked gasp, hips canting as his orgasm took him by storm.

A hum of satisfaction vibrated past your lips as his warmth filled you, stilling to spare him the overstimulation for the time being. “Feels so good baby, you never disappoint.”

Once the incessant twitching of his cock died down, you lifted yourself off of his lap, shivering at the sensation of his load slowly seeping out of you and dribbling back onto his spent dick.

“So,” you breathed, looking between the two men currently surrounding you and shooting a glance toward Chris, “who’s next?”

The answer to that question was a very smug Minho, excitement thrumming through your veins as he nodded his head toward the edge of the bed - the silent command leading you to find yourself to where you currently were now.

“Minho!”

Your nails clawed at the sheets, the mattress rocking along with your body as the black haired man fucked into you like a man possessed.

“It’s only fair that someone gives you your first orgasm of the night, kitten,” he drawled, thumbs digging into the small of your back as he held you impossibly tighter, “why wouldn’t I make sure that it’s me giving it to you?”

Your body couldn’t decide between attempting to run away from his powerful thrusts, or submit yourself to the fiery pleasure that hoped to consume you, until you felt the warmth of his hands sliding up your back, past your shoulder blades, and along your forearms.

Like a slab of clay for him to mold, he maneuvered your arms behind your back and pinned them with one hand, the other going back to its home on your hip as he aimed long, precise thrusts to a spot he was well acquainted with.

The side of your face melted into the mattress, tears of pleasure blurring your vision, as any sound you’d hoped to make dissolved into hiccuped breaths and encouraging mewls.

Minho grunted, clenching his jaw as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm begin to shine through, “That’s it, kitten, give it to me.”

Your legs trembled, pussy fluttering and clenching with each passing second until your body tensed with a cry of his name falling from your spit-shined lips.

He welcomed the new wave of arousal coating his dick and adding to the already sloppy glide of your cunt, wet slaps sounding through the room as he fucked you through your high with a breathless chuckle.

“There it is.”

Grip tightening on your wrists, his hips met yours a number of times before he pulled out with a gasp, jacking himself off with his free hand and coming along the curve of your ass and thighs - much to your delirious chagrin.

“Why…?” You whined breathlessly, wiggling your hips for further emphasis - not that he needed it.

Minho released your wrists to land a swift smack to your unsoiled ass cheek, a satisfied smile curling his lips from the squeak you let out. “Because I wanted to - you still have two people to fill you the way you wish, kitten, let’s not get too greedy, hm?”

There was a slew of giggles and chuckles from the onlookers, and you tried your best to send them your best glare, though your efforts were in vain as you felt a pair of hands caressing your thighs.

“Get up on the bed for Binnie, bunny.”

You obeyed with no hesitation, already knowing which position you would be set in for the remainder of the session as you turned to tuck a pillow under your chin, bringing your knees up and out to sit your hips high in the air and dip your spine into a fine arch - pretty and presentable.

“God,” Changbin groaned, scrambling to fill in the space behind you as fast as he could, “I’ve been waiting so long to get you like this, bunny, you would not believe.” His firm hands instantly went to cup your ass, spreading your cheeks further and sucking in a breath at your glistening hole. “So fucking pretty…”

“Binnie.”

Your insistent, warning whine hadn’t fallen on deaf ears, and he wasted no time in notching the fat head of his dick to your fluttering walls.

“Alright, bunny, deep breaths for me.”

Of course, you already knew the drill, having grown custom to the mind numbingly delicious stretch only he was capable of giving you, but the reminder never failed to stir the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

With a deep inhale, your slow exhale was followed by him sinking past your walls, each inch slowly stretching your cunt around his girth.

It wasn’t long until he was fully seated inside of you, and with warm hands kneading the flesh of your ass, he drew his hips back before snapping them forward, punching a moan from the depths of your lungs.

Even if you were still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you were still begging for more with each whimpered moan and choked gasp as your body seemed to melt deeper into the arch you had set.

“Look at you, can’t get enough of us, can you?” Changbin goaded, though his tone was soft and warm, “It’s okay, we can’t get enough of you either, bunny.” He lifted his hand to slap the swell of your ass, before gripping the flesh, “You and this ass of yours.”

A shiver shot down your spine as his hand slipped, his thumb caressing the inside of your cheek and just barely grazing your asshole - a temptation that had shown its face among a few of the boys before, but was never fully dwelled on by them nor yourself.

“I’m curious, bunny,” he hummed, slowing his fast thrusts for laxed, deeper ruts, “would you ever let one of us use this other pretty hole of yours?” Sliding his hand further, he pressed his thumb against the tight ring just enough to burn the fantasy into a possible reality, “Would you let Binnie fuck this pretty ass?”

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping onto the poor pillow below you, “Y-Yes! Yes! I-It’s all yours, Binnie - want it so bad!”

His signature, triumphant laugh filled the room as he tossed a glance to his boyfriends, “Hear that? I get first dibs.”

“You can’t just ask her questions like that!” Jeongin groaned, a stern pout set on his lips, “She agrees to anything if you fuck her long enough!”

“Yeah, how else do you think Felix managed to stay up late enough for his Apex tournament that one time?”

“How am I always being brought up here?!” The blond scoffed as he lightly shoved Hyunjin, crossing his arms over his lithe chest, “But, I mean, yeah - three orgasms can get you a pretty good deal.”

Jisung hummed inquisitively, before narrowing his eyes, “But did you win?”

“He won,” Minho huffed, a smirk curving the corners of his lips, “and he gave her head the next morning, I could hear her moans from the kitchen.”

Muted thumps of the headboard began to grow in frequency until a low groan interrupted the riveting conversation - Changbin hunching over your body as his muscles tensed, shivering while he filled you with his seed.

“God, fuck,” he hissed, rolling his hips against yours while your walls fluttered around him, clenching from the orgasm that was just moments away. “You’re too good to us, you know that, bunny?”

You huffed out a breathless laugh, stifling a moan as his hands massaged your lower back out of its arch for a moment of respite, “I-I’ve been told once or twice,” turning your head, sultry eyes landed on the final man of the hour, “but you guys are worth it.”

Chris flushed under the heat of your gaze, just barely catching Changbin’s teasing “Don’t break her back, Chan.”, as he climbed onto the bed and took the space previously occupied by the rapper.

“Think you can stay in this position one more time, baby?” He mused softly, caressing the warm skin of your back before gliding his hand down to the curve of your ass.

Without answering him, you spread your knees and tucked yourself into a deeper arch, wiggling your hips to further entice the man behind you.

“Yeah,” Seungmin chuckled, lazily crossing his arms over his chest, “he’s blowing her back out, it’s over.”

As much as you wanted to turn your head to respond, your train of thought flew out the window as you felt the bed dip slightly, before the pressure of Chris’s blunt tip nudged against your cunt, bumping against your clit tauntingly.

“Alright, princess,” he breathed, dragging the tip along your slit, “why don’t you give them a show for daddy, hm?”

This time, your reply came in the form of an elongated moan as he sunk into your heat, the stretch coming with ease after Changbin’s size, yet the length making your toes curl.

“Oh, god-”

There was no opportunity for a pause, not when you were miles beyond prepped and ready; the orgasm Minho previously gave you, paired with the second one Changbin gently guided you toward yet kept from tipping over, leaving you with a bubble that was ready to burst within minutes.

“F-Fuck, daddy,” you keened, pressing your hips into his own in feigned hopes of getting him impossibly deeper, “please, please fuck me.”

Chris ran his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes glued to the way your pussy wrapped around his length, as he nodded, “Hands, baby.”

A shiver of excitement shot down your spine and you complied almost immediately, using the pillow to keep your head propped up as you worked your arms behind your back, the warmth of his hand easily finding your wrists and pinning them.

With you set up to his liking, he slowly pulled out just about halfway before driving his hips forward with force, the added balance of his right foot planted on the bed adding to his power.

He was definitely going to blow your back out.

It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm, nor did it take long for the room to be filled with your high pitched moans and gasps, and the slap of your ass against his thighs - the ripples slowly, but surely, turning your limbs to jelly.

“Our perfect girl,” he gritted out, the grip on your hip and wrists tightening marginally, “letting us admire you for the beautiful gem you are - take turns with this gorgeous body of yours.”

It wasn’t news that they were constantly in awe of you, with and without your clothes on - you were the brightest star in their night sky, you were the puzzle piece they finally found to complete their lives separately and together - and they never failed to remind you of how loved you were.

“But, you know you’re so much more than that, don’t you, princess?” Chris tilted his head to catch a glimpse of your face, eyes fogged and unfocused, lips parted with endless moans tumbling through, “You’re so much more than just your body to us.”

“C-Chris!” You managed to choke out between a whimper, his loving sentiments paired with the unyielding strokes of his cock to your deepest, sweetest parts turning your brain to mush, though your body responded in the best way it could.

He hissed at the telltale clench of your walls, a shiver running down his spine as he nodded mindlessly, “Already? It’s alright, baby, you can come for me - don’t hold back, yeah? Give it to me - give it all to me.”

Your body reacted faster than your mind could at his command, your orgasm barrelling toward you at a speed that had your hands balling into fists; every muscle in your body tensing and clenching until the thread snapped with one more well angled thrust. Mouth falling open with a silent scream, the only sound you were able to hear was your own heartbeat as your vision went white.

The first thing to return to you was your hearing, the muffled thumps of your heart fading out into loud, heavy pants - though you knew for a fact that breathing wasn’t just you. The next sense to return was touch, the slightly damp sheets underneath you grounding you back to reality as your eyes fluttered open only to land on an unexpected face.

“Sungie?”

“Jagi, if I swap to ‘Team Ass’ can you do that for me, too?” Jisung’s face was ripe with blush, though his eyes were wide and wild with lust that had your abdomen clench almost painfully.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you frowned lightly, “Do what?”

“You squirted, muse,” Hyunjin murmured beside him, awe laced in his tone, “that was so fucking hot.”

Oh.

It wasn’t until you went to move your arms that you realized Chris was still keeping you pinned - and a second later you realized he was still inside of you.

“Channie?”

“I-I’m okay, I-” Relinquishing his hold on you, his hands instantly went to your hips, thumbs tracing nondescript shapes against your skin, “I just… I need a minute, ‘m sorry.”

“No, no, baby, it’s okay, take your time.” Working yourself onto your hands, your lower back eternally grateful for the relief, you took a quick scan of the empty room, “Where’d everyone else go? Did I genuinely pass out?”

“No - honestly, you were only out for like, a minute, but after you, uh, came, we started the aftercare checklist.” Hyunjin’s hand reached out to wipe away a hint of saliva at the corner of your lips, “Hannie and I are on talk-down duty, Felix is running you a bath, Jeongin’s getting you a washcloth, Seungmin is getting you water while Minho’s starting on dinner, and Changbin is getting the laundry Chan was too fucked out to get himself.”

“I’m not fucked out,” the eldest groaned as he lazily turned his head toward the artist, “it was just a really intense orgasm, alright?”

With enough energy worked up, he pulled his hips away from yours as his softening dick slipped from your pussy, a shared hiss of overstimulation escaping you both in the process.

“Holy shit… Intense is a fucking understatement, she’s dripping so much.”

You bristled at Jisung’s words, though you could feel the reality of the situation currently oozing its way down your clit and undoubtedly landing against the stained bed sheet.

“Fuck, it’s like a river… Am I allowed to be jealous right now?”

“Han, please.” Chris groaned, embarrassment evident in his tone, “We get it, I come a lot, but I really don’t know what you have to be jealous about.”

Ducking your head with a barely contained laugh, you shook your head before meeting Jisung’s stare, “Next time, you’ll be the one almost folded in half and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, okay?”

“I got the water, but it’s gonna cost you-” Seungmin stopped in his tracks as he rounded the bed, his eyes locking onto the mess between your legs, “What- You turned her into an overstuffed twinkie!”

“Seungmin!”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @mahklathekpopqueen

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2

Part 1(?)

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.

That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.

They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.

Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.

They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.

However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.

He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.

"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"

Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.

"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.

There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.

Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.

After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)

"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."

"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?

"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.

"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.

"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.

What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

He decided to change the subject instead.

Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.

As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.

"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."

Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."

Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.

Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"

Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."

Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."

However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."

The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.

Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.

"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.

Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.

…

As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.

Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.

He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"

Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"

"What?" Jason frowned.

"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.

Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)

[flamingpudding]

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

--------------

The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

[dyslexic-mess]

Loosely based on this post.

The all powerful Ruler of the infinite relms. Watcher of the unsleeping army. The apprentice of time. Keeper of the crown of fire and holder of the ring of rage. The ghost king...was sitting rather comfortably in mid air.

He had his legs criss crossed and arms behind his head, takeing gravity more as a suggestion than a rule as he lounged, unbothered, over the table.

"Its funny, actually"

He smiled, glancing lazily at superman. "What is?" He replied, not half as relaxed. "All of your souls in exchange for my help is kinda a meaningless offer." he explained, rolling his wrist infront of him.

"Why's that?" Wonder woman asked this time, tence. The king shrugged "Not that I'm in the buissness of makeing deals with immortal beings but there the only ones who'd have any leveridge in this situation"

He sat a little further up right now, resting his hands on his knees as he regarded the justice league. It was not quite indifference but something akin to it, mixed with amusement. "A mortal offering me there soul is like promising me it will rain."

He took a moment to look through eatch one of them as he spoke. Although soft, the glowing green of his eyes made it hard not to feel threatened.

"Yeah, it may not happen today or tommorrow or even the day after but..."

Those green eyes turned upward, looking at nothing in particular and yet everything, takeing a breath and continuing the slow tone he'd been talking in. His voice full of so much wisdom, the others couldn't begin to comprehend it.

"Eventually, the pressure will brake and it will rain. Promised or not."

[shadowphoenixrider]

Summer Dreams

(This fic is set before Sins of the Past, because of course I write a fic that precedes it...after I post it. XD This is from Shadow's 1st person POV, and it's mostly fluff and some banter. Hope you enjoy!)

"Shadow, outside on a summer's day?" I rolled my eyes at the familiar Cajun drawl coming up beside me. "Never thought Gambit'd see de day."

I gave the dark-eyed mutant a Look, although I was unable to hold it against his wide, playful grin.

"I've been outside plenty of times, Cajun." I replied, folding my arms. "I'm just not as athletically gifted as you or the others - I prefer my outdoor time be savouring it, not being reminded of PE at school."

"That why ya prefer de Danger Room?" Gambit asked, shoving a hand into the pocket of his ripped jeans.

"Yeah. Less baggage, more fun." I half-chuckled. "Even when I get my ass kicked by everyone. I do feel like I'm getting better at it though, slowly but surely."

"Reckon so. Next guy dat tangles wit ya ain't gonna know what hit him!" Gambit chuckled.

My smile faltered, and I looked away. Ah, yes. I was only here for as long as my admin leave lasted, and the need to keep me hidden from the Friends of Humanity. Luckily the latter seemed no longer an issue, yet...

When I was younger, I had dreamed of being spirited away to a place like Xavier's school, a place where I belonged and could escape to. A place I could be me, could be more. Those dreams had lingered, despite growing up, buried under adult responsibilities.

Now they had been all but laid in my lap, all for the taking, yet I was no longer the bright-eyed energetic teenager like Jubilee. And it was clear I could never measure up to the other X-Men; their powers were stronger, their fighting prowess leagues ahead, and I had the body of a nerd whose crowning achievement was climbing a hill in the Scottish Highlands.

Xavier had assured me numerous times I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted, even beyond the agreement. Even Wolverine was fairly convinced that I was not threat to the team, mostly through me being a wet noodle in sparring matches, though the time had helped.

And yet...

A cool wind gusted by us, stirring the long grasses over the grounds like a beautiful green ocean, rippling like the surface of the lake. It would be cut short soon, as pleasant as it would be to see the wild flowers bloom within - a reputation had to be upheld.

"Beautiful day, eh, petite?" Gambit said softly. His gaze had followed mine, looking out over the rolling grasses, the breeze playing with the long curls of his red-brown hair. I found my eyes tracing the line of his stubbled jaw, chiselled like marble, lingering long enough that his eyes flicked back to me, catching me staring.

I blushed, quickly looking away.

"Y-Yeah, it is. It's why I came out. Wanted to enjoy it."

I saw something flash across Gambit's face from corner of my eye.

"Hope I ain't disturbin' you, then." Something in that statement made me frown slightly, an undercurrent of negativity.

"No, not all." I shook my head, looking back to him. "I don't mind company." I considered a moment, rewording myself. "I like your company."

His eyebrows lifted for a moment, an enigmatic smile tugging at his lips.

"Merci, petite," he said. "Glad ya feel that way."

I held his gaze for a long moment; his black and red eyes had always captivated me from the first moment we met, and they did so once again. It seemed that I'd also gotten under Gambit's skin, both literally and metaphorically, as he'd appeared to have taken it upon himself to be my unofficial guardian whilst staying the mansion. According to Jubilee, he'd done similar for her, so it wasn't exactly a surprise.

However, I couldn't shake the feeling that the Cajun with kinetic mastery had taken a particular shine to me. When I took time to myself, he often would check up on me just once to make sure I was alright, always asking about the latest errand I was running for Doctor McCoy, and even reading over my shoulder when he thought I hadn't noticed him.

Not to mention how willing he was to goad me into verbal sparring matches...

Suddenly, I heard a high-pitched twittering noise, rising and falling into a wheezy warble. Whipping my head to the side, I caught sight of a quick flash of blue across the grass, joined by another sweeping low with scythe shaped wings.

"Look! Swallows!" I gasped.

The swallows skimmed the grasses like fish through water, so impossibly fast that my eyes could barely keep up. Diving and twisting, their forked tail streamers flared whenever they changed direction in instants of a second, white bellies flashing in the sun. Bold or reckless, the swallows shot by us as streaks of blue, their bubbling song lifting up and around us.

"Ki-yar!" Gambit exclaimed as one wheeled inches from us, close enough to show the white spots under its tail. "Those birds can really move! Didn't know dey came out dis way."

"Neither did I!" I replied, giddy in my excitement as I watched them dance in the midday sun. "I was more expecting to see swifts!"

"Dere's a difference?" Gambit asked, cocking his head to the side curiously.

"Yes - same family, different species. Look, watch this one!" I pointed to a swallow gliding low, just before it banked sharply, its tail streamers spread wide. "See how long its tail is? Swifts' tails are much shorter and stubbier. That and swifts are all black, look like miniature crescents when they're in the air. Swallows like these are blue and white, with a little red face."

The look on his face was one of intrigued wonder, almost like he was seeing me for the first time again.

"They both hunt similarly, though I've more often seen swallows hunt like this - snatching insects hovering above the long grass." I continued. "Swifts tend to fly high, so high you can barely see them circling above. But you definitely hear them - it's a sound you've probably heard before, though didn't know what it was. It's a high-pitched scream, very eerie." I chuckled. "There's tales that they used to be known as the Devil's Screamers because of it."

"That so?" Gambit raised an eyebrow. A smile pulled across his lips. "Sounds like dese birds mean a lot to you."

"Birds in general do." I lifted a shoulder. "I just...I just like them. Always a little annoyed my mutant powers never let me fly or become one, honestly."

Gambit chuckled richly.

"Ain't that the truth. Bein' able to fly would make things quite a bit easier. Don't mind being picked up by de ladies on missions, but it'd be nice not to have to rely on them, you know?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. You don't want to be seen as a burden all the time. Especially when you can't see how you could be an asset to them."

Gambit glanced at me, expression unreadable.

"The Professor says there always be somethin' you can give back. Even if ya don't see it yet," he said.

"Hah." I let my gaze drift back to the swallows. "I don't know what I can give aside from my powers, and they don't even work on two of you."

"Gambit can think of many things a beautiful woman like yourself can bring to de team, mon amie." Gambit said, one thick eyebrow arched. "Far beyond ya company an' excellent conversation."

"If you make a comment about my ass, I'm punching you." I shot back, annoyance prickling along my skin. Really?!

"Non, Gambit not gonna play with you like that," he said, his tone becoming contrite. "If ya did want to stay with us, you would be givin' back. Even if ya powers can't heal Rogue an' only sorta work on Wolverine, he don't need it. An' dat still leaves everyone else dat would appreciate ya healing touch after a bad day at de office."

"As for not bein' as fit as de rest of us - it come wit time, petite. Gambit had a bit of a headstart, but he had to get in shape too. Jubilee'll do de same when she gets old enough. An' maybe ya don't ever get to de same level as us." He shrugged. "Den dat's fine. Beast be more den happy to have someone wit him in de lab, or lookin' up things when we be out in de field. 'Nother fighter be useful, but that don't mean ya useless. Far from it."

A pair of swallows twisted and tumbled together, twittering excitedly. They seemed so free, unchained from worries and guilt and doubt. One arched away from its mate, barrelling towards us as it sang its reedy, warbling song, so close it stirred the hair covering my ear.

For a second, I wasn't on the grounds of the X-Mansion; I was back at school, young, feeling completely alone. Yet the swallows hurtled across the playing fields like blue bullets, whipping past my ears and filling the air with song. They lifted my heart, dancing around me without a care in the world, as free as the wind they soared through. How I longed to follow them, to escape the fear and the hurt and the-

"Shadow?" Gambit's voice snapped me from my memories. He was frowning slightly. "Doin' ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking."

"Anythin' you wanna share with Gambit?" He asked kindly.

"I..." I shut my mouth. Thought for a second. "I always liked birds, but swallows have always had a close place in my heart." I explained, Gambit watching me intently. "I remember always being so excited to see them arrive when I was little, seeing their little chicks all squashed into the nest. They're beautiful birds, both in how they look and how they fly. And they...they've always been a good sign, for me."

"How so?"

"I...When I went through a rough patch, growing up, I didn't see them as often. When I did, it would be an event to me. A good day, something I could cling to when everything was shit." I smiled. "They became my good luck charm."

The Cajun slowly turned his head to the swallows.

"Den it certainly be a good day for you," he said gently.

"Yes. Definitely." I nodded. That was it. My mind was made up.

Swallows made their own destinies, flying hundreds upon thousands of miles over fathomless oceans and burning deserts to where they'd been born to raise their own chicks. It was time I made my own.

"Hey Gambit?" I asked, stepping closer to him.

"Hmm?" He hummed pleasantly, turning his head to me.

"Think the Danger Room's free right now?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Bored of de outside already, petite?" He teased.

"Well, I wanted to do some practice with you, but now I think I want to kick your ass!" I grinned, folding my arms and straightening my back to my full height.

"Dem's fightin' words, mon amie! Gambit don't know if ya can deliver, though." He grinned back, tucking a finger under his chin. "Maybe if Gambit tie his hand behind his back?"

I shoved him playfully, making him laugh.

"You are such a twat!" I turned away from him, folding my arms again. "Maybe I'll ask Storm instead, if you're gonna be mean to me!"

"Ah come now petite, Gambit only razzin' ya!" His grin gentled into a smile, and I let him slide his arm around my shoulders. "Gambit always happy to practice wit ya. Got any other ideas if it be taken, though?"

"Not really, hadn't thought that far ahead." I admitted, looking up at him. "You got anything that doesn't involve a card game?"

"Pshht, not everythin' 'bout Gambit involves cards, petite."

"Only most things." I smirked, raising an eyebrow.

It was his turn to give me a side-eyed Look.

"Ok, now you be de mean one, mon amie."

"Hey look, you were the one who started this!" I replied, spreading my hands.

"Maybe Gambit should jus' go away den if ya gonna hurt his feelin's!" He declared dramatically, pulling an upset expression two degrees away from needing a fainting couch.

"Nooo, don't go." I giggled, grabbing his wrist as he tried to unwind his arm from me. "Where else am I going to find a handsome Cajun to keep me company?"

The switch in his demeanour was immediate and amusing, Gambit leering at me with an eyebrow quirked and a suggestive grin.

"Oh, you think Gambit's handsome, do you?" His voice sunk into a lower register that made my lower back shiver.

"You're not bad on the eyes, no." I said, trying to ignore the heat rising into my face. "Anyway, I was asking you about what other ideas you might have if the Danger Room's busy."

Gambit seemed to debate with himself for a second or two, before he blinked, softening his expression.

"It do be a bit of a shame to head to de Danger Room an' waste this beautiful day, petite," he said. "How about we take a walk down to de lake? Might not be as intense as de simulations, but ya might enjoy stretchin' ya legs a little more dis way."

I frowned thoughtfully.

"Gambit be happy to let ya walk alone though, if ya prefer." He added, slightly hurriedly. "Dere be a path ya can follow dat takes ya back to de mansion-"

"I enjoy your company, Gambit." I reminded him, smiling. "And you're right. We should enjoy this day whilst we've got it." I nodded towards the forest. "Shall we?"

For a moment, Gambit's smile was wide and genuine, almost...giddy? And then he stepped up next to me, and we began our stroll, the swallow-song following in our wake.

[cosmicallylyss]

So in my musings on What If™ Kira was used not as a throwaway character/shocking elim but a rival to Jinpachi Ego himself in terms of ideology and moral value and was one of/The protagonist(s) of Blue Lock, I've accidentally created a rarepair (ship or platonic duo I can see it both ways) inside my mind so please get ready for the biggest hear me out [analysis and more thoughts under the cut just pls pls pls hear me out i am begging]. Look at them and then hear me out.

So! First off thank you for hearing me out.

First Selection: Oh boy Kira does not like this guy. He's a team player in a world of egoists, obviously he doesn't like this self-proclaimed king! He thinks the selfish playstyle is terrible but he's also not an idiot and can not deny that clearly, results are showing for the unsportsmanlike behavior.

Second Selection: I'm not too sure on how I'm gonna screw with this one for the purposes of adding in Kira, all I know is that I want him to play with Reo (I think he'd be really beneficial to him as a friend and teammate post ReoNagi breakup) so hey maybe he'll get to play against Barou at some point here if I screw with the 3v3? Anyway, I want them to be on opposite teams again and I want Kira to see the whole idea of devouring/Barou's villain complex and have a moment of "Maybe this is team play, it's just a selfish way of doing it??" and we see his whole power of friendship mentality shake a little bit.

Third Selection: Very few ideas for what the two of them do here in relation to each other. In all honesty it's not that important to me right now

U-20: Okay yeah I'm not a Kira fan to an unrealistic standpoint, he most likely benchwarms this game or maybe gets a few minutes of being subbed in because Ego knows showcasing the jewel of Japanese soccer will bring in some great publicity. Maybe he plays a few minutes in the first half of the match and he's subbed out when Barou subs in (maybe they directly switch??) and Kira gets to say something about "Ah, wish I could've gotten a closer look at your playstyle." or something to that effect. He's not really praising it but he's stopped outright condemning it. Character development!

Neo Egoist League: I want Kira on the Ubers. "Strategy and teamwork" and although he's gained a bit of an ego and some selfishness to survive up to this point, it doesn't discount that we've seen him display the love he has for his high school team in the beginning of the series. Anyway, my main point is that I think he's good enough, especially with his Blue Lock training for him to play really anywhere. However he'd probably stay an offensive player; maybe on Ubers they either do two main strikers with him and Barou as forwards or maybe they have him as left/right winger and he does more of a supportive role for Barou as he's one of the only people on the team to keep up with him offensively? He'll still be scoring goals for himself of course, and I can very easily see Blue Lock making him more of a teasing kind of guy, he'll pass to Barou once and then when Barou steals the ball from him later in the match, he says something like "Reading my moves means you care about what the rest of the team's doing! Good on you, you selfish team player." Also just imagine them playing together both as forwards like. "The King and his Crown" tell me you would not be scared to face those guys they have such a good narrative nickname.

In general—I think the opposing ideologies and playstyles of these characters make them an interesting pair. I think it would be fun to watch Kira go from detesting Barou to admiring him to considering him an ally. Barou is also a main driver of Kira developing an ego/selfishness as their bond strengthens throughout the series. I believe Barou would go from not caring about Kira (just another donkey, y'know?) to considering him a rival (not an enemy!) on equal standing. I think he would appreciate that Kira is a neat guy (headcanon) and although the friendliness can be a bit overbearing Kira seems to know when to pull back. I think Kira is important in Barou considering his team more. He obviously shouldn't change too much from his selfish ways, but I would love to see Kira giving him a little perspective switch—if he wants to command a team, he should understand his team. The most powerful king is one who knows his subjects, isn't it?

In sum, live laugh rarepair dynamics, I might actually turn these headcanons into an actual canon divergence AU because I really really wanna write for kira

[sykilik101]

Syk’s Snippets #8

“Good evening, everyone, I’m Darla Rowe, and welcome back to Cerulean Nightly News. Last week, we covered the highly prestigious Masters Eight Tournament, where Kanto’s own Ash Ketchum narrowly defeated Leon to become the new Monarch of the Pokémon world. The victory was considered by some to be quite the upset, as Leon was the previous Monarch while Ash entered the tournament as the 8th seed.

“Though we were unable to reach out to Ash after his victory, we now have an update that he is in Cerulean City as we speak, and local sources have informed us that he’s currently staying at the Cerulean Gym. Joining us now live at the gym is our local investigator Raine Coates, who claims that there might be more going on there than simple Pokémon business. Raine.”

“Yes, Darla, so for those who may not know, this isn’t Ash Ketchum’s first visit here in Cerulean City. Years ago, he once visited while on his journey to compete in the Indigo League, earning Cerulean Gym’s Cascade Badge during his stay. However, what many may not know is that the current acting gym leader, Misty, was once a traveling companion of Ash’s, having visited many other regions during her time with him.

“Many of the locals we interviewed described their interactions as friendly, albeit they’ve been sighted having random confrontations at a moment’s notice. One witness, however, claims to have seen Ash and Misty holding hands at one point during their stay. Though we have no evidence of this, this hasn’t stopped the city, and arguably the entirety of the Pokémon world, from speculating about their relationship.”

xxxxx

Ash held his face in his open hands, hoping to hide the red sear across his face as the newscast played. Misty sat beside him with her arms and legs crossed, a pout splayed across her lips as her cheeks shared Ash’s fluster.

“I told you we should’ve waited until we got back to the gym.”

“But I didn’t think anyone else was around! You didn’t see anyone else either, did you, Pikachu?”

The electric mouse, who’d nestled himself on the armrest of the couch, shrugged and shook his head. “Pika pika.”

“Some help you are.” Ash grabbed one of the couch pillows before burying his face into it.

Misty’s finger began tapping against her arm, her expression softening the slightest bit. “Well, I guess it was bound to come out at some point, right?”

Ash groaned into the pillow before chucking it back to its resting spot. “Well, yeah, but now the whole world's gonna know.”

“Ash, this is Cerulean City news, not the whole world. Besides…” Her reddened cheeks were slowly manifesting a new culprit for their tint. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing for everyone to know, right?”

“No, but…” Ash leaned back against the couch, twiddling his thumbs. “It’s kinda embarrassing when so many people know you’re dating someone, y’know?”

Misty glanced to the side; deep down, she agreed with him on that, her own mortification spilling out onto her face. “You shouldn’t have held my hand, then.”

“You’re the one who didn’t let go when I did.”

“You’re the one who said nobody would catch us!”

“If you thought it was a bad idea, why did you do it anyway?”

“Piii-ka!”

Threatening sparks jumped from Pikachu’s cheeks, silencing the two immediately. He hopped between them, taking Ash’s hand between his paws before hoisting it onto Misty’s. Ash’s fingers reflexively wrapped around hers, and he knew her well enough to know that she probably felt the same skipped heartbeat as he did.

“W-well, if people already know, at least we won’t have to hide it, right?”

Misty nodded. “Y-yeah, we can do this in public and it’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, no big deal.”

“Right.”

Truth be told, Ash himself was still adjusting to Misty being his girlfriend, and Misty still struggled to call him her boyfriend without her tongue ending up tangled. He’d hoped that he’d be able to take some time for just the two of them to acclimate to this change in their dynamic. Unfortunately, a newly-crowned Monarch apparently didn’t have the luxury of privacy.

Misty scooted closer to him, resting her head against his. The action sent a cluster of Butterfree fluttering through his stomach, and he moved his hand to rest on her shoulder. No one else but her could make him feel this way, and as the seconds ticked by the potential opinions of the rest of the world seemed to matter less and less.

“You know, maybe I don’t care if everyone knows that you make me this happy.”

Her gaze met his, though he didn’t hold it for long before she pressed her lips to his. It was only the third time since he’d first confessed his feelings to her, but the warmth surging through him made him feel weightless. His heart hammered in his chest and breathing was suddenly a suggestion rather than a basic need. She hummed against his lips and he went giddy, unable to stop himself from grinning.

“Pika pika.”

Pikachu’s voice snapped them apart, two sets of eyes landing on a now-blushing Pikachu. Ash turned to Misty, who looked to have the same expression as him. A second passed before the two erupted into giggles.

“If we can’t even do this in front of Pikachu, can we really do this in front of everyone else?”

Ash shook his head. “I guess we’ll just have to keep doing this in secret, huh?”

Misty rolled her eyes, though any scorn she might’ve felt was diluted by cuddling up against him harder. “Maybe for now. But hopefully not forever.”

Her second statement was much softer, her fingers finding each other and twisting into nervous knots. Ash planted a kiss against her temple, earning a small noise of contentment from her.

“Definitely not forever.”

[new-sandrafilter]

Photograph by Ruven Afanador for TIME |  INTERVIEW BY SAM LANSKY

Timothée Chalamet and I are on the run, chasing down Sixth Avenue on a bright September day in search of a place to talk. The restaurant in Greenwich Village where we had planned to meet ended up getting swarmed by NYU students while I was waiting for him, chattering excitedly to one another—“Timothée Chalamet is here!” “Shut up!” “Yeah, he’s right outside!”—so, trying to avoid a deluge of selfie seekers, I bolt from the table, tapping Chalamet on the shoulder where he stands under the awning, on the phone, and we make our escape. Face covered with a mask and hoodie pulled up over his curly hair, he’s mostly incognito but still cuts a distinct enough figure that we’d better find a new location fast, and standing at a crosswalk with him, I feel briefly protective, like I should be prepared to body-block an onslaught of fans at any moment.

Luckily, we go undetected as we make our way to another diner a few blocks down—a true New York greasy spoon, less crowded and doggedly uncool—and slide into a back booth. He orders black coffee and matzo-ball soup, which he says he has been craving. It’s not an easy thing to come by in London, where he’s been in rehearsals for Wonka, an original movie musical that will serve as a prequel of sorts to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, following the titular chocolatier as a young man. He just spent a weekend recording music for the film at Abbey Road. “I felt out of my league,” he says of working in that legendary space. “Like I was desecrating history!” But working on this project has been good for him. “It’s not mining the darker emotions in life,” he says. “It’s a celebration of being off-center and of being O.K. with the weirder parts of you that don’t quite fit in.”

If Chalamet—whom most people call, affectionately, Timmy—sees himself as off-center, so far it’s working. He’s back in New York for the Met Gala, which he’s co-chairing alongside Billie Eilish, Naomi Osaka and Amanda Gorman. (He walked the red carpet in a Haider Ackermann satin tuxedo jacket and sweatpants.) On Oct. 22, he’ll appear in two films released on the same day. There’s Wes Anderson’s ensemble The French Dispatch, which earned raves out of Cannes, in which Chalamet appears opposite Frances McDormand as a revolutionary spearheading a student liberation movement. He also stars as royal Paul Atreides in Denis Villeneuve’s towering sci-fi epic Dune, an adaptation of Frank Herbert’s beloved 1965 novel, budgeted at a reported $165 million and slated for a massive worldwide release.

This makes it a big moment for Chalamet, who is not just an actor who works often, although he does, and not just a celebrity, although he is one, but a movie star in the old-fashioned sense of the word. (More on this later.) He’s now the rare performer who, at 25, studios are betting can help launch a blockbuster franchise and a festival hit on the same day, with a pandemic still rumbling out of view. With great power, of course, comes great responsibility—including a spotlight on everything from his personal life (he’s been linked to actor Lily-Rose Depp) to his activism (he’s outspoken on climate change) to what he wears, whether on a red carpet or dashing to the bodega. The latter runs the gamut from embroidered joggers to tie-dye overalls to space-age suiting—or, say, a Louis Vuitton hoodie spangled with 3,000 Swarovski crystals. (All this has led GQ to crown him one of the best-dressed men in the world.)

“I feel like I’m here to show that to wear your heart on your sleeve is O.K."

Chalamet belongs to a generation that’s known for oversharing, particularly on social media, but his Instagram is frequently enigmatic; he holds more back than many of his contemporaries. He cites as role models Michael B. Jordan, Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence—the latter two of whom he’ll appear opposite in Adam McKay’s star-studded Don’t Look Up on Netflix in December—actors who are more likely to talk about craft than to post selfies doing sponsored content. If fame is surreal to him, he also doesn’t make a show of resisting it. “I’m figuring it out,” Chalamet says. “On my worst days, I feel a tension in figuring it out. But on my best days, I feel like I’m growing right on time.”

As we sit and talk, a procession of fans stop by the table to ask for photos—mostly young women, but there’s one sheepish-looking guy, too, who looks to be in his 40s. Chalamet indulges them all gamely, making conversation. “Oh, you go to Columbia?” he says to one girl. “That’s cool! I did too.” He stops himself. “Well, I dropped out.”

If the challenge is staying level amid all this attention, he has a game plan. “One of my heroes—I can’t say who or he’d kick my ass—he put his arm around me the first night we met and gave me some advice,” he says. What was it, I ask?

“No hard drugs,” Chalamet says, “and no superhero movies.”

Chalamet grew up in midtown Manhattan, where his mom was a Broadway performer and his father worked as an editor for UNICEF. He went to the arts high school La Guardia, where he performed onstage. Not long after graduating, he booked a role as Matthew McConaughey’s son in Christopher Nolan’s 2014 space drama Interstellar, which he, along with everyone he knew, expected would catalyze his career. “I remember seeing it and weeping,” he says, “60% because I was so moved by it, and 40% because I’d thought I was in the movie so much more than I am.”

He briefly attended Columbia, then NYU, but didn’t finish college, which he says seems “insane in retrospect.” He remembers the insecurity of those years, which he describes as “the soul-crushing anxiety of feeling like I had a lot to give without any platform.” But he waited for the kinds of jobs he wanted, trying to avoid getting locked into a commitment that might stifle his growth, like a years-long TV contract. “Not that those opportunities were coming at me plenty,” he says, “because they weren’t. But I had a marathon mentality, which is hard when everything is instant gratification.”

That paid off in 2017 with the release of Luca Guadagnino’s gay love story Call Me by Your Name, which earned him an Oscar nomination and catapulted him to fame. (He demurs when asked about co-star Armie Hammer, who has denied a widely publicized accusation of rape. “I totally get why you’re asking that,” he says, “but it’s a question worthy of a larger conversation, and I don’t want to give you a partial response.”) That same year, he featured in Greta Gerwig’s Oscar-nominated Lady Bird. He followed up with the addiction drama Beautiful Boy, then Gerwig’s adaptation of Little Women, both of which earned him still more critical praise.

If his filmography has made him an art-house darling, Dune feels like the perfect big movie for an actor like Chalamet: despite the booming score and dazzling visual effects, there’s a gravity to it—and an unusual prescience. “Dune was written 60 years ago, but its themes hold up today,” Chalamet says. “A warning against the exploitation of the environment, a warning against colonialism, a warning against technology.”

Dune is also the kind of cinematic event that demands to be seen in theaters, which spelled controversy when Warner Bros. announced that, due to the pandemic, all of their 2021 films would premiere on the streaming service HBO Max concurrent with their theatrical release dates. Chalamet shrugs about it. “It’s so above my pay grade,” he says. “Maybe I’m naive, but I trust the powers that be. I’m just grateful it’s coming out at all.”

A day later, we meet at a bar in Tribeca. As he arrives, he’s wrapping up a call. “Love you too, Grandma,” he says gently into the phone as he’s hanging up.

Male movie stars have long been defined by an old model of masculinity. Chalamet, who rose to fame playing a queer character and whose style is frequently described as androgynous, evinces a kind of masculinity that’s a little different: more sensitive, more emotional, in keeping with his generation’s permissive attitudes about self-expression. “Timothée is a thoughtful, poetic spirit,” says Villeneuve. “I am always impressed by his beautiful vulnerability.” Chalamet doesn’t always reveal much, but what he does is intentional. Ask him what he stands for, and he considers it seriously. “I feel like I’m here to show that to wear your heart on your sleeve is O.K.,” he says.

Yet Chalamet knows better than to obsess about how he’s perceived by the public. “To keep the ball rolling creatively takes a certain ignorance to the way you’re consumed,” he says. He calls it a “mirror vacuum”: the black hole you disappear into studying your own reflection. He wants to use his platform thoughtfully, to spread the right kinds of messages through the world—whether that’s about mental-health awareness, a subject which he wants to see become “less of an Instagram slide share and something more intrinsic,” or climate. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the same generation that inherits the overheated planet is the generation saying, ‘Hey, there’s a level of complacency here,’” he says.

All that said, Chalamet doesn’t take himself too seriously. The idea that he’s seen as a movie star—let alone his generation’s most promising—seems to make him squirrelly. “I don’t want to say some vapid, self-effacing thing,” he says. “It’s a combination of luck and getting good advice early in my career not to pigeonhole myself.” The term movie star, to him, is “like death.” All it does is make him think about ’90s-nostalgia Instagram feeds.

“You’re just an actor,” Chalamet says, like a mantra. “You’re just an actor!” Then he looks to me, as if checking to see if he’s convinced me it’s true.

[lina-lovebug]

CALL MY NAME

Part 3

Danny Rand x Y/N x Dick Grayson

__________

They thought it would be cool. That it would be easy to go on a co-ops mission with her. Y/N had been prepping for this mission for months, but suddenly, Dick had other things he needed to attend to. She understood and knew she could handle this mission on her own, but that changed when her former team volunteered to join.

"Guys, this stuff isn't like SHIELD. It's dark-"

"We can handle it. No biggie. What is it?" Sam asked.

"Child sex trafficking ring," She crossed her arms, and it suddenly got quiet.

"I've seen so much as a Widow, but this is heavy. You're going to see some really hurt kids, and you might even walk in on. . ." Her hands curled into fists.

"It's strictly professional. No one needs to know that the League was involved. Strictly under wraps. Got it?" She asked, fully prepared for this.

"Yeah," Sam breathed out, not so sure of himself.

"Just tell us what you need," Luke told her.

"Good. I want Peter and Ava to be on the far north side of the building, and it's old so it should be easy to get in from these access points," As she was explaining these things, and leading them to the bio-ship they'd need to get there, Danny couldn't help but admire her initiative. Of course she knew they were all novices when it came to this, but she was being a leader.

She was being amazing.

"-Danny, Luke, you'll go under and Nova will keep watch from over us with the bio-ship. These will keep us connected," She walked up to Danny, seeing him fumble with the ear piece and grabbed it from his hands.

"Here," She gently placed it in his ear, too close for his own comfort but it felt nice seeing her act like this. She needed to get away in order to grow.

This was good for her.

"Wait, will you be going in alone?" Danny asked.

"Yes. They won't expect-"

"No. I apologize, but you can't go in by yourself. Not without backup," Danny insisted.

"They know me, so they'll know to expect me. They'll never expect you guys."

"Make them expect the unexpected," Danny retorted in his usual soft tone.

"Yeah, Danny's the quietest of all of us. Especially if you're going in through the roof and into the center of if all," Peter pointed out.

"But what about Luke?" Y/N questioned.

"I'm a brickhouse. I'll be fine," Luke insisted, and Y/N turned back to Danny.

"Follow my orders. Got it?"

"Of course," He smiled softly.

It was going smoothly. Nova stationed the bio-ship not too far from the building, and he was hiding in plain sight. Everyone was following orders as Y/N and Danny found the secret entrance through the roof, and she looked up at him.

"You ready?"

His firm nod was all she needed before jumping down. Immediately, Danny was in a panic. No ropes? Nothing to help her? He watched as she rolled onto the ground, Immediately catching the attention of the traffickers around her as she got into position.

"Sorry boys. Did I interrupt anything?"

His heart almost dropped once the first gun shot fired off. Immediately dropping down, his fists breaking his fall, he had to quickly focus on himself as bullets started towards him and he dodged and his fists easily blocked them.

"Widow-!"

She was fine. There were easily ten bodies behind her as she grabbed a gun from the man before her, aiming right for her head, and used his grip on it to her advantage. Grabbing the gun, she launched it forward and used the crown of her head to smash his before breaking the gun and letting him collapse to the ground.

Her face dropped when she looked back at him.

"Iron Fist! Behind-!"

A gunshot rung out.

But he didn't feel anything.

Danny looked over to Y/N, who had gasped and immediately grabbed her stomach.

No. No, no, no, no!

Danny immediately crushed the gun in his hand before punching the man in the face, not caring in the moment that he broke his nose and the guy definitely might have memory loss.

He shot her.

He shot Y/N.

"Sh-shit, Danny," She breathed out, falling to her knees as Danny fell with her. He wasn't going to let her die, not like this.

"Get the kids out. I-I'll be fine," She hissed, the pressure making it hurt even more.

"The team will get them. I need you to live. Move your hand."

"W-wow, you're so calm even though you're holding a dying girl in your arms," She joked, doing as he said as Danny readjusted her to be on his lap as his hand started to glow.

"There would be no honor in me if I did not know the full capacity of my power," His warmth from his hand radiated within her as she stared at the wound starting to close.

"You. . .you can heal? H-how?"

Danny chuckled, "I am a King, Widow. A King must be trained to his full capacity in order to protect his own."

"Right. You're King of K'un L'un," Y/N reminded herself. She was so angry when she found out that Danny didn't tell her, and was fully ready to just leave without saying goodbye.

"Still no queen?" She asked as he helped her up.

"Despite your initial outburst towards me in K'un L'un, the people wanted you," Her eyes widened as she leaned against him.

"Wh-what? But, I was horrible to you. I yelled at you."

"They knew I was leaving someone behind. They told me a woman who will remind you of your own humble mind is a woman worth crowning," He couldn't remember the last time she was so close. Her fit body pressed against his and she couldn't ignore that Danny definitely toned up and that suit wasn't helping.

"We need to get the children-"

"Y/N," He pulled her back by her arm, missing how close their bodies used to be to eachother.

But Danny wasn't that type of man.

"You. . .go ahead. I'll signal Nova," She knew he wanted to say more, to maybe even do something.

And maybe she wanted him to.

[hug-them-trees]

Y’all shit is getting WILD up in here so first off

There’s nukes. The DM fucking put nukes in the campaign and we all knew it was coming but our characters have no idea what the fuck a nuke is so we’re like freaking out but not able to do thaaat much about it and we have to be like “do you think anyone survived” when a nuke hit a city even though they are most certainly dead

Transformed into a bullywug I think that’s how it’s spelled idk I just saw a frog and was like THATS ME and I still had the evil crown on my head which is recognizable so I took an Afro out of my court jesting kit and put it on then proceeded to make my token in the game a pic of Kermit w an Afro

Once again started fight by being dumb we were like in the middle of the woods and I was like imma play the bagpipes and my companions were like absolutely not so I was like fine I will play the war gong and they were like u have a war gong and I was like ya and smacked it and that brought a hag out of hiding and we had to kill her

There was a halfling NPC with the same token one of our players used to have so I was oh is that u and they were like why are you being racist and I was like “is it being racist if I’m stupid”

We were talking about this one dude that had a boat and my roommate goes I like that guy and I was like I don’t he tried to scam us and she goes what do u mean tried to scam u and I was like he tried to charge us money that’s why we didn’t take his boat and walked instead and she goes “THATS NOT SCAMMING YOU CHARGING MONEY FOR A SERVICE IS NOT A SCAM”

We found my dead lover (who was the prince and I was framed for his murder) his skeleton has been reanimated and he’s now named Sir Bone (which he definitely made up the moment we met him) but he doesn’t have any of his memories. Somehow the other party members realized it might be him before me and they were like do u have a picture of james and I was like no but I have his tooth on a necklace and they were like even better and turned out it fits perfectly where a tooth is missing in the skeleton so yeah I just got emotional and started blubbering how much I loved him and all that crap and sir bone was like oh you love me and here I was thinking you were out of my league. He also is a bard who wants to perform for the royal court and we’re somehow going to have to break it to him that he was in fact the royal court and was assassinated most likely by an inside job

My roommate is DMing a dnd campaign for our friend group and character creation for me has consisted of me putting the most unhinged shit possible down and my roommate yelling that I can’t do that

Examples:

At the very beginning she asked what class I wanted to be. I asked which one was the sexiest. I’m a bard now.

I tried to be 92 feet tall. She said I had to be a medium character. I asked what the size range was. She said 4-8 ft. I changed the height to 7’ 11 3/4”

I tried to have rainbow skin. She said that as a changeling my skin is gray. I put that it glitters in the sun.

For weapons I wrote “potato” and explained that I had unlimited potatoes to simply Yeet at people. I also put “yeeting” as a skill. I was told I could not have infinite potato, so I said I would steal potatoes. In the end I was allowed a potato sling and I buffed up my stealing skills. I was however forced to remove yeeting as a skill

I was told I got 5 candles. I made sure to note they were booty shaped.

I was told I had a hand crossbow. I put down foot crossbow. She asked how the actual fuck I’d use that. I promptly demonstrated (read: laid down on floor and flailed legs wildly). I was allowed to keep the foot crossbow.

I put down “sexy” as a personality trait. We have not discussed this part yet but I think I will be yelled at

I wrote that all bards are secretly in a rap club but I’m the only public member. She said this is not true. I said it’s fine if you say they aren’t because, again, I am the only public member. We’re at a bit of a stalemate with this one

I put “too godly at rap” as my only flaw. Have also not gotten to this part with her but I’m definitely getting yelled at

For bonds I wrote “ionic, covalent, James”. This is another one I anticipate future yelling

I tried to put “language of love” as one of my known languages. She pulled out the list of DND languages and made me choose from there. I picked goblin, she was like you aren’t even a goblin. So now my backstory says I was raised by goblins.

I also have a silver Mohawk. This apparently didn’t violate any rules so I get to keep it.

[euphoriyoongi]

Yoongi Historical au/ Royalty au

prompt requested: number 7:

I’m secretly in love with you but you never seemed to give me the time of day but you all of a sudden tell me you love me and my only thought was to make out with you.

Summary:

As the daughter of the military director, you’ve always had a liking towards the crown prince, Yoongi. Now, many years later, as your secretly in love with him, he’s secretly in love with you.

Pairing: prince!yoongi x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Genre: royalty! au, historical au, friends to lovers

Warnings: none.

_________________________________________________

Joseon Era.

As a child, you dreamed to marry Yoongi. Too bad he was way out of your league.

Not look wise, but rank wise.

He was the only son of the king, heir to the throne. Now you were decently high up as well, being the daughter of the military head, but not even close to being able to even dream about him.

You didn't have a chance. Not even a thought. It's not like he would even like you back anyway, given how he was never one to look into your eyes when you'd speak to him, as if talking to you wasn't important anyway.

As you both aged together, you've noticed him always walk around the palace without any guards, always sneaking around to be alone. He'd never want any attention drawn to him, and if you would wave your hand to say hi, well, chances are that he would walk right past you.

It was hard, as the years flew by and you were still left with the heart wrenching feeling of a one-sided love. It was long enough to call it that, since you have been into him since you laid eyes on him.

Your father and the king were very good friends, and would often bring you to visit him whenever they'd have something to chat about. So you would sit off the the side with Yoongi, who never seemed to be able to replace the frown on his face with a smile.

The only time you had ever seen a smile on his face was when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, only for him to drop it as soon as you turned towards him.

Now in your mid twenties, your father is begging you to marry. You are at the age where you should have at least two kids now. For you to be single and constantly training to become a good fighter just like your father was, you didn't believe you had time for children. And anyway, ever since you turned fifteen to now, you used the excuse that you wished to marry when you met the one.

Your father now tried to bring up the conversation of marriage at this moment, and you stood pin straight, facing the target ahead of you with a bow and arrow in hand, ready to shoot. "But y/n, you really have to think about how important it is. You'll be thirty years old in no time!" He exclaimed, and as he slammed his foot down in irritation, you let the bow slide through your fingers, releasing it only for it to hit the corner of the target.

Groaning, you drop the bow to your side. "Father, I have more important things to be doing." You hummed, giving him the side eye as he stared at you with worry. You reached up to dry a patch of sweat on your forehead.

You used to tell him how much you wanted to marry the prince as a kid, but now it seemed too childish to use as an excuse. She knew she would never be able to marry him anyway, since he probably would have to be married to someone specific.

Yoongi was quite the character. He rarely spoke, but always wanted to leave the palace and go into the town, where his friends would live. He had a select few, and would also run into you as you went on errands.

Whenever he'd spot you, either in the palace or town, he'd stare at you for a moment and look away, almost telling himself not to even pay attention to you. It always made you upset, making you wonder why he would never pay attention to you. It's not like he didn't know you.

You lived your whole life pining over him. From the way he slightly dragged his feet across the dirt, to the way he would always wear a large hat to hide his face whenever he'd leave the palace, you loved him. He was the person you wished to marry even after all these years.

It seemed childish, yes. But if you were to marry and bear children, it would have to be to him. And if it wasn't him, well, it was no one. But your dad didn't need to know that information. "Listen, father, I will marry when I find the one." You said to him, lifting up your bow to shoot another arrow. "Just give me time."

He seemed to understand that you were trying to focus, and stepped back a few feet. Hearing him sigh, you gave him a side eye. "Okay okay. I'm sorry. I just want the best for you." He smiled, giving you a little bow in respect. "I'm off to meet the king for lunch. If you would like to pay your regards to him, let me know."

The arrow slipped through your hand again, now completely missing the target board all together. "Will the prince be there?" You didn't mean to ask this, but you couldn't help it. You haven't seen Yoongi for weeks, and you wished to see his beautiful face again. Would it be so vain to just..use the king as an excuse to see him?

Now, the king loved you. He wished Yoongi was as dedicated as you were, and always asked to see you when your father would visit. You had wished that he would ask you to marry his son, but knowing that it would make no impact with the kingdom, it was out of the question. He was probably just happy with his son having a friend of sorts.

Your father let a smirk reach his lips. "Hm. I'm sure he would be, if he's not galavanting in the village or anything."

Maybe she should stop by to greet the king. "I'll come with you." You said, smiling without paying attention. "I'm sure he'd be happy to see me."

Your father laughed. "I'm sure someone else would be happier."

"Greetings, your majesty." You bowed along side of your father as you stood in front of the king, who was sitting under the pavilion.

Smiling, the king beckoned you both to come under the shade of the pavilion.

Sitting next to him was Yoongi, who looked bored out of his mind. His gaze didn't even reach you, and you looked away from him and back to the king as you walked up the stairs. So much for coming here to see him.

The meal went on, your dad chatting with the king and talking about marriage. You pretty much tuned the whole thing out, given that you say next to Yoongi, who scooted over in the opposite direction of you.

Ouch. Now you knew you really didn't have a chance with him.

"I'm surprised you're sitting down with us, my son." The king bellowed, smiling at Yoongi who sat to his right, you sitting next to Yoongi. He huffed and picked up his utensils to start eating. "Usually you're out in the village—undercover I hope."

Yoongi hummed, not even answering with a word, and continued to eat, and the king brought his attention elsewhere. He faced your dad, smiling. "So, I'm surprised your daughter isn't married yet! My my, what a beauty."

You glanced over to Yoongi, who still stared down at his food. "Yeah, she has a few men lined up to marry her." Your father laughed, making the king chuckle as well. Yoongi finally looked up when he heard those words, now paying full attention to the conversation as he gripped his silk gown tightly in his fist.

"Oh I always wondered why a beautiful girl like her was still unwed." The king smiled over at you, and glanced at his son, who seemed to turn a bit red. "Im sure the wedding will be soon then, eh?"

Your dad hummed as he drank some rice wine. "Ah, yes. Whoever is her husband is sure one lucky guy."

"Why would be be lucky?" Yoongi scoffed, sipping his drink. "She's not even that pretty."

Silence. You nearly dropped your cup as he said this, staring at him with wide eyes.

Your dad cleared his throat and set down his cup. "Well at least you spoke today. I haven't heard your voice in ages..." he carried off, seeming offended by Yoongi's choice of words that were against his beloved daughter.

The king glared at his son. "Yoongi, that is no way to talk to our guests." He then looked over at you, noticing your dumbstruck look. "Please forgive him, he doesn't really socialize well."

Yoongi scoffed again, now slamming his cup against the table. "Why are you guys even pestering her about marriage, anyway? She has no chance with anyone other than—" he cut himself off, looking at you with a solemn expression out of all of his anger. When he noticed your eyes droop away from him and down the the table, he sighed and didn't finish what he was going to say.

Everyone was quiet. The sudden outburst from Yoongi put everyone off, even his father. As Yoongi glanced from your dad to you, you had enough of this degrading. Even though he was the one you dreamed to be with, it wasn't right for him to say those things about you.

You stood up and bowed. "I will take my leave." You said, looking to the king and to your father. "Thank you, your majesty."

He signaled oh that it was okay to leave, and you nearly ran down the steps as if to get away from the embarrassment. How did you not know that Yoongi felt so strongly for you in the most opposite way you wanted? What was the reason for him to hate you—

"Y/n!" You heard a voice yell behind you, the smack of footsteps getting louder and louder. You had stopped in your tracks, standing next to your favorite tree in the palace, the beautiful cherry blossom.

It was Yoongi behind you. He had reached you, now bent over and out of breath as if he just ran a mile. "Ah, you're fast."

You turned around with your arms across your chest. "What do you want?" You looked at him in the eye, and he stared back, nearly begging for forgiveness.

He sighed, kicking a rock that was near his feet. "I uh..." he carried off, now not being able to look at you.

No matter how mean he was to you, he always looked stunningly beautiful. His long dark hair was pulled up, his silky gown matching his hair. He had quite the scar across his cheek, but it made him more attractive in her eyes. As he stumbled on his words, you took the chance to speak. “Listen, your highness, I don’t what to hear your explanation.” You seethe, upset about how he feels towards you. “I don’t know what you were trying to say back there, but I got the message. Clearly.” You growled, turning away from him as you kept your tears in check.

Yoongi reached his arm out to touch your shoulder, making you jump. “What? What are you doing?” You asked, looking down at the ground once again, seeing the rock that he kicked was now near your feet.

“I just…” he carried off again, unable to speak the words on his mind.

You needed to get out of here before the tears began to fall. You were the daughter of the military head, how dare you cry over a boy. At least that’s what you tell yourself. You turned around quickly. “No, your highness, I’m not going to stand here and listen to how ugly I am. How I’m never going to be married because of my looks, how I—“

“I love you.” He sputtered out, looking anywhere but your eyes. “I’ve loved you since you taught me how to sword fight…and when you told me my scar was beautiful..” he carried on, now looking into your eyes with a small smile on his lips. “I didn’t mean any of that stuff back there, I was just upset to picture you..getting married to someone else.”

You were shocked. You stood there, your eyes wide open, standing in front of the man you always wished had feelings for you. And now he’s spilling his guts about how he loved you and—well, what the hell?

He stared into your eyes with worry. You weren’t saying anything back, and just when he was going to say something else, you leaned forward and let your lips touch his, out in the open courtyard for anyone to see.

You kissed him with all of the emotions you held back for as long as you could remember, and it startled him. He didn’t kiss back immediately, but as you pushed your body into his and gripped the back of his head to deepen it, he pushed his face towards you and grabbed onto your hips, pulling them flush against his.

His lips tasted like the cherry blossom tea that he drank, and his hands felt like ecstasy as they nearly tore through your clothing. His touch was like a drug you so desperately needed, and the taste of him made you feel even higher.

All that time you dreamed of kissing him could never live up to this moment, and when you pulled away, your hands still cradling his face, his still resting on your hips, he stared into your eyes and began to chuckle. You laughed back, resting your forehead on his.

“So,” he trailed on, his smile visible. “I’ll take that as an I love you too..?”

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x9 thoughts

It’s no secret that I absolutely adore Coach Beard; he’s one of my favorite characters on the show, and he’s so well-written and well-acted that somehow I tend to be both perfectly satisfied with the details we see and truly curious to understand more about the way he thinks, what’s really happening re: his professional and personal devotion to Ted, where he comes from and where he’s going. I don’t need to know his name beyond the name he wants to be called, but I want to know why we don’t have any other names for him. And I don’t need him to be a bigger focal point of every episode, but I very much needed this episode’s world-exploding reminder that every single character on this show has a rich inner life, full of joys and troubles.

“Beard After Hours” is like a movie, but one that scatters its climaxes and puts off its resolutions...because it’s not a movie. It’s episode nine of a twelve-episode season of TV. When the episode ended, I felt this almost frantic “But he needed to break up with Jane for good before the end of the episode!” feeling. I was so pulled in by the idea of being able to tell an entire story in one night, of going on an odyssey alongside a complicated hero, that watching Beard and Jane find each other in that club felt as intense as the fact that we don’t know if Ted responded to Rebecca’s voicemail and we don’t know what’s going to happen with Rebecca and Sam and we don’t know who isn’t getting married and who is having a funeral in 2x10 (I mean, I have my strong suspicions, but still!) and we don’t know if Richmond will be promoted back to the Premier League. And on and on. I didn’t mind feeling desperate for the story to resolve even though I understood after thinking about it for ten seconds that of course it couldn’t resolve yet. Or ever. Or yet.

I’m a big fan of the TL episode recaps/reviews Linda Holmes writes for NPR, and I have to quote something from this week’s directly because it so perfectly explains my feelings:

The power of the scene where Beard dances in the club isn't that it's a beautiful romantic climax. It's that it's an explanation of why he cannot seem to extricate himself from this bad relationship. What makes the worst relationships so dangerous is that they have elements that feel good that are very hard to get elsewhere. Beard knows that; he tells it to God. What's concerning isn't that Jane makes the world seem more interesting; what's concerning is she's the only thing that does. That doesn't take away from the joy of the dancing; it just tells you that even happiness is complicated.

I love Holmes’ perspective here so much, because it articulates something I was struggling to figure out: how it can feel so legitimate, like such a (temporary but nonetheless powerful) relief, for Beard to find Jane in that club and to have this moment of euphoria as his night nears an end. How it is possible to experience that relief on behalf of a character while fervently wishing it could end differently, because it’s so clear from the abusive text messages and the toxic calls and the manipulative interactions that Jane is terrible to him and they’re terrible for each other. But Beard knows this. He knows it when he hugs Higgins in the parking lot after Higgins is honest with him in a way Ted and Rebecca and Keeley have not learned how to be, and he knows it when part of his prayer includes the clear articulation that Jane isn’t the cure for what “ails me.” He’s inching closer to greater self-knowledge just as Ted is.

And the two big resolutions that really, really needed to happen did. I didn’t know I needed Paul, Baz, and Jeremy to get to wrap up their own night out on the pitch at Nelson Road, but I did. It brought actual tears to my eyes. And the other resolution was Beard showing up with the other coaches’ coffees for their meeting to watch the game film. As interesting as it would have been to see what Ted would have done if Beard hadn’t shown up, I’m so, so glad that he did. He’s got a messed-up face and some truly epic pants on, but otherwise this is just Beard showing up for work, showing up for his friends. It was incredible to realize that Beard and Ted haven’t been exaggerating when they’ve referred to his sex-and-drug proclivities in the past. The night documented in 2x9 might have been particularly scary and violent and euphoric and awful and meaningful, but this type of all-night adventure isn’t a foreign concept for this guy. In all the other episodes of this show, when we see Beard we’re seeing someone who might have been out all night, who might have spent the hours the sun was down desperately pushing himself closer to whatever edges he could find.

I don’t really want to touch upon all the allusions in this episode. They are abundant, they are well-documented, and also I haven’t even seen the movie After Hours. I enjoyed this episode for its allusive qualities and I enjoyed this episode for what it was and I feel like I have to be at peace with the fact that I’m never going to pick up on every single reference on this show and that is okay.

So, yeah, if this entry on my tumblr dot com blog seems remarkably devoid of references and allusions, it’s not because I’m not into it but because I find it too overwhelming to actually write about.

Very into the Misplaced and Discovered box at the Crown and Anchor. (That’s what Mae wrote on the Lost and Found box at the pub, right? Whatever it is, it’s so funny.)

Beard hallucinating Thierry Henry and Gary Lineker was truly upsetting and a great indicator not only of how broken things are between the Richmond coaching staff right now but also how deep Beard’s self-loathing might go. If you’d asked me before Thursday if I thought Beard loathed himself, I would say no. That deepening of knowledge alone makes 2x9 worth it.

James Tartt and his friends in the alley. Such a nightmare. I go back and forth on how much of the night was real, and part of me has decided all of it is, short of the images of Henry and Lineker. (And even that is real to the extent that it was a way of articulating what was in Beard’s head.) But watching Beard in physical danger brought on by the same abuser who had him so upset in the first place. It was a lot.

I’m so excited that Paul and Jeremy and Baz got some spotlight this episode. It was so wonderful to see them out of the pub. I love that they ended up telling the Oxford snots who they really were. They got to see Beard going to bat for them and smoothing over the situation socially, and that actually made it more possible for them to end up being truthful about themselves. Because they have nothing to be ashamed of, and they deserved the magic of that night. (And for it to end on Nelson Road. Every feeling. Oof.)

I feel like I barely have anything to say about the trouser-mending lady or the many places Beard goes or his key-dropping or the nightmarish feeling of wanting to be home and being unable to be home. It all happened and we all watched it and again, it was a lot. But I do feel incredibly moved and fascinated by the fact that Beard very obviously still hasn’t been home when he brings in the coffee. He’s had to sleep at the club for Jane- and key-related reasons in the past, and this time it’s not that he’s slept there but it still feels like a kind of homecoming he was robbed of for the entire night. Ted and Roy and Nate are there. He’s gotten their coffee orders correct. Ted is growing and evolving (he wants to learn from what’s happened, he’s insisting upon it even when the others resist) but he’s done a really perfect (almost romantic in its loveliness) thing by presumably spending his evening following a breakdown of his own speeding up the game film to 10x speed and adding Benny Hill. Ted is not OK and Beard is not OK and Nate is not OK and Roy is pretty OK but could very easily be not OK because he’s just joined a coaching staff with a whole lot of not OK. But they all showed up.

I am very into the realism of the lights being off in the club other than the coaches’ office (@talldecafcappuccino pointed this out!), and the way we’re seeing their desks from a different angle because this episode is unfocused on Ted. It really added to the mindset of being hungover and exhausted and unable to go home or even to know exactly what home should be; even this warm, familiar place feels off even as it’s a relief to be back there.

I am excited to return to our regularly scheduled programming with the full cast of characters, but I really adored this episode for what it taught us about Beard and what it illuminated about the humor, pain, and complexity of each person who inhabits this universe. Beard may not be loud about his long-standing beliefs or about the things he’s learned, but there’s a lot happening in there and I appreciated getting to spend 43 minutes with him and (in the case of the ticket he scrawls on a piece of paper so the pub guys can get into Nelson Road) the moments he sets in motion.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Just My Type Pt. 2

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: dom/sub undertones, dom reader, subby shig, light mommy kink, anal fingering, blow jobs, smut ahead so ya know be prepared, shigs is kinda an incel but we love him anyway, 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Shigaraki is a full course meal that showed up on your doorstep and you are more than a little inclined to devour him whole.  

Part 1

AO3 Mirror

You liked to think you understood Tomura Shigaraki. 

Probably a bit better than he understood himself if you were being honest. 

It wasn’t that you were particularly adept at reading people, but you paid attention and he was generally a lot more obvious that he realized. You started to get the feeling your client-turned-sometimes-boss had a bit of a thing for you not too long after you started working for him. 

Mainly because he stared. 

All the time.

You weren’t certain if he was completely conscious of it, and at first you sort of assumed it was just a weird, somewhat unnerving habit. It took you all of a week to figure out, though, that his one visible eye did not seem to focus on anything other than you. 

Initially, you had been wary of him. This was a slightly more dangerous clientele than you were used to, but the rest of the League warmed up to you quickly enough. The true realization came with the little, silent fits of jealousy—nails raking down his neck and scowls so harsh they were nearly audible—whenever anyone else, usually Dabi, showed the same interest.   

And being the type of person you were, it was hard to resist pushing those newly revealed buttons just once. 

Well. 

More than a once. 

But! 

All that pressing and goading had finally culminated to this. 

Needless to say, you felt more than a little thrill when Tomura had finally taken the bait and let you drag him all the way back to shore like a fish on a hook. 

And now here he was, beached and floundering, as chilled air like ocean waves rocked against your ankles. 

So yes, you understood Tomura Shigaraki. 

He wanted you, as much as loathed to admit it. 

And you wanted him too, but not so much that you were willing to go down without a bit of a fight. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” you asked. 

You could see the shiver your voice sent through him, like lungfuls of sweet spring air after a lifetime underground. 

“What?” he mumbled, one hand holding the clasp on his pants closed and the other reaching up to tear at his neck. 

Always so predictable. 

You hummed at the gesture and leaned back to pull the door open a bit more. “Come on, you’re letting all my heat out.” 

His eyes narrowed significantly, not so subtly flicking down to your chest before meeting your eyes—suspicion clear as the tent in his pants, but a good amount of cautiously pleasant surprise as well. 

You dipped your head down, trying to get a better look under the mop of his hair and dark hood to see the dusty rose blush creeping up his neck. His scarred and cracking skin grew pinker with every passing second. The smile on your face was impossible to hide.  

“I caught you in the window of one of the shops like six blocks in,” you said by way of explanation and waved him forward once again. “You can stand out there and freeze if you want, but something tells me you might be a little more comfortable if you came in.” 

This was a calculated game, but no one ever got anywhere without taking a few risks.  

Your stress on the last two words and the way your tongue peaked out from behind your teeth was thankfully not lost on him. 

“Fine,” Tomura swallowed once as if this really was the last thing he wanted to be doing, and you watched his throat bob as he finally shuffled over the threshold.  

You liked the way he looked here, harsh but not out of place in the domestic setting. Surrounded by the scent of crisp air and clean laundry, you breathed deeply to catch the faint hint of cheap hand soap and dust and that strange, sweet smell that always tickled your nose when he got close. Tomura took a long breath of his own when you pressed closer, the top of your leg brushing just enough at the front of his jeans to feel his dick twitch. 

Yeah, he probably thought you hadn’t noticed him lifting your coat to his face when you left for the bathroom. That you hadn’t overheard Kurogiri chewing him out for all the different bottles of detergent littering the backroom like he wasn’t scouring convenience stores to find the exact one you used. Didn’t know you knew where all those ‘lost’ gloves or elastic ties or even your socks once when you’d taken them off to dry after a storm had ended up. 

It was hard to tell with him whether those strange behaviors meant he liked you or really wanted you dead. But you’d dared to assume the former and god it felt good to be right. 

“You like to watch, don’t you?” you asked, letting the words cascade from your lips. 

“Maybe. You like to be watched, don’t you?” he rasped, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of control but your chest was brushing against him and you could hear his mouth going dry. 

You raised your brow and leaned just a fraction closer, ready to let the last of the chips fall.

“Maybe,” you mused, your lips just barely grazing his. “I don’t mind if it’s you.” 

And finally, finally you saw the little glimmer you’d been waiting for. 

Tomura Shigaraki was beginning to understand. 

You could see it in his eyes, the dawning realization. Reluctant still and forever mistrustful, but coming around. All those nights he spent observing you when he thought you weren’t looking—shrouded in smoke and keeping a safe distance—you’d never been aiming to get away. You’d never been hiding or ready to run. 

You were always trying to get closer to him. 

The way you left so soon when he sequestered himself away in his room or how you let Dabi’s hand creep just far enough up your thigh before making your escape—all of it, was just to catch his eye. 

Just playing your cards—working with the hand you were dealt.  

Tomura might have been watching you, but you had always been watching right back. Really, it was a wonder how he ever missed the way your gaze was trained on him nearly every second from the time you set foot in the bar to the ever unfortunate moment you slipped back out into the cold, lonely street. 

How many nights had you been waiting for this? 

Laying awake, thinking of the way his scarlet gaze warmed your skin like the cinnamon in Kurogiri’s nightly cocktails. You’d seen what those hands could do, watched them turn glasses and tables to ash, but that only raised the stakes. And wasn’t it so much more fun that way?

“Well,” you leaned in, tilting your head so that your mouths were centimeters away from touching, “do you want to see more?”

You were watching the levee break. Cracks forming up that skeptical and distant outer shell and letting desire leak out from every line and scar. The air was silent and heavy in the way it often is before a storm. You wondered if you’d be struck down by errant lighting before you got a chance to suck his tongue like you’d been dreaming of. 

His fist closed around your wrist, pinky poised threateningly over the skin. You let him hold you, not struggling in the slightest under his grip. Tomura could have you like that if he wanted. Could believe this was forceful, that he wasn’t giving himself away. You would gladly let him, but you had something else in mind. 

Something you were almost certain he’d enjoy more. 

All the deliciousness of the torture you planned to drown him in was completely dependent on him offering you the reigns. If he wouldn’t, well, you’d take what you could get. Encouragingly, he didn’t move further than his grip on your arm. 

Instead, he stared blankly and tugged you closer grunting under his breath, though never fully closing the distance. It took a second before your brain processed the slight pout of his bottom lip, the catch in his breath the way he subconsciously ground against your thigh. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You’d said it before and you’d say it again: god, it felt good to be right. 

Coming to your door was his first move tonight, and now it was your turn to up the stakes. 

Grinning, you closed the small gap between your bodies and let your mouths slip against each other, filling in the cracks of his lips with your tongue. Tomura groaned when the weight of it slipped across his teeth just once before you pulled away from him altogether. 

There was barely an inch between you, but that would always be too much now. 

“You never answered me, Tomura.” Saying his name made you shiver. You wondered what it would feel like when you screamed it too. “Do you want to see more?”

“Yes,” he nodded and surged forward, knocking your teeth together and nipping sharply at your lower lip. “More, now.” 

Your grips switched, his fingers going limp around your wrist while you took hold of his and led him towards the door at the end of your hall. The soft bedroom light leaked out and illuminated the halo of baby hairs at the crown of his head. You longed to run your hands through it. By the time you got him safely inside—sat cornered on the edge of your mattress—you realized there was nothing stopping you from doing just that. 

So you did. 

Tugged his hood down and ran your fingers across his scalp, grabbing a handful and pulling firmly. The noise it earned you had goosebumps erupting down your arms. 

With his pretty face revealed, you took a moment to drink him in. The small lamp lit him from the left, leaving one side in shadow and those red eyes were so dark you could have drunk them down like expensive wine. Slowly, you lowered your lips to his scarred forehead and pressed them softly against the rough skin. 

“What would the others say, hm?” you hummed, stroking his cheek as you leaned back to look into his eyes again. “If they knew their boss was tailing around the new hire just to get a glimpse of some ass.” 

Tomura stayed resolutely silent, grumbling under his breath as he lunged forward to slip his tongue back into your mouth. Your hand in his hair tightened though and his thighs tensed below you. 

“Seems a bit desperate, huh?” 

He growled again but moved a hand to the open front of his pants, palming slowly against the growing bulge there. The swathe of light grey fabric covering his cock was already sporting a sizable stain that you were dying to taste. 

Feeling merciful, you dragged your tongue along his sharp jaw and nipped at his earlobe, “Do you really want me that bad?”

You weren’t sure what exactly was the nail in the coffin. It might have been the words themselves, or the soft, honest tone with which you whispered them, or even just the way your chest brushed against him, but that was the moment his resolve finally shattered. 

“It’s your fault,” he whimpered, hips bucking up into his own hand, “you’re the one that did this, so fix it.” 

You could only guess he was referring to the absolute rager he was sporting and the drool threatening to spill from his ragged lips. 

“Oh, you want me to make it all better?” you were having a hard time keeping it together yourself with Tomura talking like that. 

He nodded furiously and you took the opening to lick back into his mouth, tracing his teeth and biting softly on his rough bottom lip. When you pulled back, a silvery string of saliva glinted between your mouths, only breaking when you moved to roll your desk chair over and plop down on the cushions. 

Tomura’s eyes immediately drifted between your legs as you peeled off your thin shorts and spread them, propped on either arm, fingers digging absently into the meat of your thighs. 

“You didn’t get to see much before did you?” he didn’t answer but you hadn’t expected him to. “How about we start where we left off, but I want to see that pretty cock this time while you stroke it for me.” 

“Oh fuck ,” he gasped and tugged his jeans down so they pooled at his ankles. 

You smiled as he cursed. One hand still gripped his length, but you could see how thick it was from between his fingers. Long and hard and leaking so much onto his stomach where it rested. The other fisted in his hoodie, pulling it up to give you a glimpse at the lovely musculature of his torso. 

So many delicious surprises, all in one night. 

Your gaze drifted between his face and the hand slowly pumping his length. Every now and again, he’d stop to run his thumb over the tip or squeeze harshly at the base. Your hand moved too, sliding your underwear to the side and giving him a full view of just how soaked he made you. 

“Is that how you usually touch yourself?” you asked quietly, slipping two fingers down your slit and coating them in slick. 

“Yeah,” his voice was already so wrecked that you shivered at the single word. 

Your fingers found your clit, drawing languid circles over the bundle of nerves and groaning in relief. “Tell me what you think about.”

“You,” he responded simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

To his credit, it probably was but you wanted to hear him say it. 

“What about me?”

Your slow rhythm sped up to match Tomura’s hand now steadily jerking his dick, wet slaps and various groans emanating from both of you. 

“Your...mouth,” he mumbled, vision locked on the movement of your wrist as your fingers began to dip inside only to travel back to your clit and repeat the motion. “How it would feel on me, how wet and warm and tight your throat would be.” 

You let out a long moan of encouragement and nodded for him to continue, grinding down on your own wrist as he spoke. 

“I think about how you parade around like a whore every time you come over— shit —and how you’d look bent over the bar top,” he spat as he ran his palm over the head of his cock. 

Normally you’d have clapped back at the insult but you were distracted by the way the muscles in his stomach were twitching violently with every stroke of his hand. 

“That’s not all is it?” you asked between breaths. 

Your skin was buzzing, warmth rising to your cheeks as sweat broke out on your forehead despite the chill of the room. Tomura keyed you up in a way no one else ever had.

“No,” his eyes were redder than usual, glazed over and pricked in the corner with frustrated tears. He wanted to cum so badly, you could see it in the set of his feet on the floor, forcing his hips up but not getting quite what he craved. 

“Come on, Tomura,” you brought your other hand down to rub quickly at your clit, “tell me what you need.” 

“Touch me,” he hissed, head thrown back, exposing the graceful column of his scarred throat. “I want to feel you.” 

He was panting, head thrown back and mouth open with just his eyes cast down at you. You wanted a painting of this scene—Tomura, ruined and starving for you. Wanted it framed and hung in your foyer so it was the first thing you saw coming home. 

How could you deny such a pretty boy?

“Alright, I suppose you’ve earned it,” you sighed in mock annoyance and stood, honestly surprised he’d restrained himself from jumping you this long. Discarding your shirt elicited a series of wines as you stood completely bare for him. 

You thought for a moment about what you should do first, before settling on your knees between his legs and batting his slowly stroking hand away. Tomura stared, wide eyed and slack jawed down as you took his cock in your hands and admired him for a moment. 

He felt good in your palm, heavy with impressive girth and length. Leagues better than you had hoped for. Pretty veins ran up the sides and the gentle ridge of his tip was silky smooth as you leaned forward to run your tongue up the slit. 

The sound that left him was bone shattering—deep and low in a way that reverberated in your bones. 

You vowed to make him cry. 

Looking up through your lashes, you let your lips fall open to take Tomura into the warmth of your mouth.  

And if you thought his first moan was delicious. 

What fell from him next was a goddamn feast. 

Four fingers were fisted into your sheets, the balls of his feet tensing so his hips bucked up and forced his length deeper down your throat. You hummed around his length, drinking down the salty taste of him, and bringing your hands up to rub sweet circles into the skin of his thighs. Listening hungrily, you devoured all the little whimpers and moans and curses that spilled from Tomura. 

Objectively, you ought to have been offended by all this. That he was so desperate for you, blamed you for somehow leading him on (which you had to an extent but only because he refused to set foot into your traps). You should have felt a bit disgusted by the behavior he’d displayed, but instead you were invigorated. Spurred on by the knowledge that the man before you wanted you so deeply and obsessively, that just the sight of you drove him off the edge. 

Flicking your tongue over the sensitive tip, you doubled down your efforts. Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked hard and took his pulsing dick deeper, swallowing around it. 

“Oh god, yesyesyes—” Tomura cried out, hips twitching. 

It was on that particular backstroke you noticed the way he was grinding back into the sheets, rocking his ass just so and you really couldn’t help yourself from indulging a bit in the curiosity. 

Shifting a hand, you collected some of the spit and precum that had leaked from your mouth and coated the base of his dick, slicking your fingers. Slowly, you moved to give his balls a firm squeeze that had him whining before letting two fingers dip lower, between his cheeks to nudge the cute pink skin around his hole. 

“Fuck—” he gasped, staring down at you and letting himself fall immediately to the mattress, giving you full access to his pretty ass. “Hm, there please…” 

He trailed off, brain rotted with pleasure and unconcerned now with how desperate or needy he seemed. You thought it was a good look for him, and you gladly obliged his pleas. 

Just the slow circles you were tracing around the sensitive flesh seemed to drive him closer to the edge. You would have been shocked by how long he was lasting considering the unlikely possibility he’d had many partners in the past, but you were sure he’d had plenty of ‘practice’ on his own to get his stamina up to this level. 

Surprisingly, you were able to actually slip a finger past the tight ring of muscle down to the first knuckle. He was so tight your mind was flooded immediately with how good he’d look bent over—ass in the air and impaled on your strap. He made this delectable choked sound when you turned your wrist and slid a fraction of an inch deeper. But as you curled inside him and gave one particularly deft swallow around his aching cock, something even more unexpected tumbled past Tomura’s lust-loose lips. 

“Oh fuck, mommy —” 

As soon as the words left his mouth it snapped shut so hard you heard his teeth clacking. 

Well. 

You certainly hadn’t anticipated that, but thankfully, transporting required you to think on your feet often.

Tomura was beet red now, looking almost as surprised as you felt by what had slipped from him in the haze of lust and sweat that filled the room. You withdrew from him completely, pulling off his cock and planting both your hands on his slim waist. 

“What did you just call me?” you asked, tone dark, praying to hear it again. 

And of course you did, because Tomura was such a good boy . 

“M-mommy,” the tremor in his voice may have been due to residual shame or the fact that you’d nearly sucked his soul right out of his dick, “mommy, please.” 

And that, that lit something in you. All bets were off, any plans of a long, drawn out night of playing with your pretty boss until he begged for you was slipping quickly down the drain as you clambered off your knees and onto the bed. 

“Does my little boy need something?” you mused, slipping into the role easily and planting your knees on either side of his thin body while you brushed your nose against his cheek. 

He hadn’t touched you since you’d gotten him in your bed and while you thought it may have had something to do with the potentially deadly side effects, you really couldn’t have that. Reaching down, you guided his hand gently to your mouth and pressed a gentle kiss against the calloused knuckles. 

“Do you want mommy’s pussy?” 

That last question might have been boarding a bit on the evil end of teasing, but Tomura responded in equally bratty fashion by burying his face into your chest and reaching down to guide the tip of his dick into your dripping entrance. For once that night, you were the one gasping at the sudden stretch and quite frankly the fucking balls your boss displayed in surprise spearing you on his cock. 

Not that you minded, but damn. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you groaned as you dropped your hips to sink the rest of the way down his length. It took a bit, even as slick as you were, before he was bottoming out and letting out little poorly hidden sobs against you. 

Tomura’s feet still hung off the bed and couldn’t provide him the leverage to thrust up into you as he so clearly wanted to, but you could work well with this. Pulling back you got him to sit up, head still buried in the crook of your neck and braced your hands to start bouncing in his lap. 

His hands flew to your hips, any trepidation apparently lost in favor of marking you with crescent shaped bruises. You let your hands trail up his chest, thumbing over his flushed nipples before threading into the hair at the base of his head. Tilting his head back, you came up and dropped back down hard on his length, letting him strike that lovely spot inside you and making his face twist in pleasure. 

“Oh, good boy, “ you moaned, long and low. “Such a good boy for me, Tomura.” 

He whimpered loudly and you bounced faster, praise tumbling easily as the pressure in your gut began to build, “You look so perfect like this, pretty cock feels so good inside.”

On a whim, you gripped his hair tightly and pressed his face into your chest, leading his lips to the stiff peak of your nipple. He latched on immediately, moans muffled against you and lovely eyes rolling back in his head. 

You took it back— this was the picture you wanted immortalized from tonight. Tomura’s mouth was full of you, slick tongue curling over the bud and suckling softly only interrupted by the occasional graze of his teeth, his dick buried in you and pulsing as you rode him to your own high.  

A high that was coming sooner rather than later. 

You let your free hand slip from his shoulder to rub frantically at your clit, feeling yourself clenching tighter and tighter on his cock, strokes shifting into a more desperate grinding. The white hot pleasure grew stronger—spurred on by the image of Tomura’s pretty hair plastered with sweat to his forehead and his coarse lips grazing your skin—cresting and sending you hurtling over the edge, cumming hard on Tomura’s thick cock.  

“Oh, baby boy, yes, make mommy cum,” you shook and clenched around him, pussy in a vice grip around his length. 

He didn’t hold out long after that, biting down roughly on your chest he groaned and you felt the hot ropes of his release painting your walls. 

It was a bit of a blur after that. You recall lifting his mouth from you, revealing a deep bruise and the indents of teeth just around your nipple—a reminder that would stick with you of this quite eventful night. Residual clothing was abandoned and you’d agreed to forgo a shower in favor of pressing every available inch of skin against his under a light sheet. 

Tomura’s breathing had evened out a while ago, heart beat relaxing to an even tattoo from it’s initial pounding. His head was tucked securely under your chin, arms flung across your middle and legs tangled in a knot. 

You’d thought he was asleep until you felt his lips moving against your shoulder and heard the soft, whispered words, “Are you going to ask me to go?”

It had been so long since you’d had a ‘normal’ conversation with him that it took you awhile to recognize his casual tone from the wrecked and begging voice you’d been hearing from him all night. Something about that knowledge made your chest ache. 

“I’m not going to make you stay,” you responded simply. 

Which was all you could really think of to say, noncommittal but open. 

“But do you want me to?” 

His tone was harsh, but not in a purposeful way. The quiet rasp was a permanent feature of his voice you’d discovered and made it him sound far more severe than he usually meant to be. The question both surprised you and didn’t. You’d asked Tomura to give up control to you before, let you take the lead and see him vulnerable. Now he was asking for it back. Asking for a level playing field. 

“I would like it if you did, yes.” 

He nodded and you felt the brush of his lashes as he closed his eyes again, settling into you more than the mattress itself. You followed suit, at least for a bit, and rested your eyes to enjoy the feeling of finally not sleeping alone. Half dozing, you breathed in the scent of well earned pleasure and sweat and laundry detergent. 

Neither of you asked any more questions—you didn’t need to.  

Because you understood Tomura Shigaraki and he understood you. 

[miracleonice87]

Secret

a Mathew Barzal one shot

a/n: and here it is! the recent news-inspired secret baby fic. Huge thanks to all who reached out and encouraged me to write it and to those who gave me ideas and advice. completely fictitious timeline and hockey-related events here, and we’re pretending the pandemic is not a thing in this one.

summary: Mat Barzal and his longtime girlfriend welcome their first baby after keeping her pregnancy well-hidden from the public eye.

warnings: morning sickness and childbirth (nothing graphic or detailed). dad Barzy, which deserves a warning. swearing. super fluff.

_____

Never in your life did you imagine that you would be attempting to conceal your first pregnancy — or any pregnancy — from members of the media.

Then again, you never could have predicted that you would end up being the long-term girlfriend of one of the most recognizable figures in the National Hockey League, and, more specifically, on the New York City sports scene. But if there’s one thing you had learned over the course of your more than four-year relationship, it was that life is full of the unexpected.

Currently, that aforementioned figure was whipping his car as quickly as possible into a private parking area at New York Presbyterian, glancing at you every ten seconds as you breathed through the early stages of labor with your firstborn baby, your water having broken just as you and Mat were settling in for sleep around midnight.

Only a small, select group of people knew that you and Mat were expecting, and as you checked in to the maternity ward just before one o’clock in the morning, you were grateful that there were very few people around you. You were hurried to your private room, Mat faithfully carrying your bags and nearly stepping on the heels of the poor nurse pushing your wheelchair, refusing to let you out of his sight for even a second.

Only once you were settled into bed, changed into a most unflattering hospital gown, hooked up to several monitors, and examined, did you allow yourself to look up at Mat and announce your practically inevitable victory.

“As long as that nurse doesn’t moonlight as a reporter, I think we did it,” you ventured with an incredulous chuckle. Mat shook his head in disbelief as he stood next to your bed, holding one of your hands in both of his.

“Don’t wanna speak too soon, but yeah, I think we did,” he agreed. “I can’t believe we managed to keep this a secret.”

_____

Six weeks

It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d ever had your head hanging above a toilet bowl on New Year’s Day.

But it sure as hell was the first time it had ever happened when you had no hangover to speak of.

In fact, you’d only had two sips of champagne the previous night before you felt weirdly dizzy and passed out in bed watching the Isles battle the Bruins.

The next thing you knew, you were being gently roused from deep sleep by your boyfriend, whose brow was creased with concern as he leaned over you.

“Sweetheart?” Mat spoke softly when you finally opened your eyes, his fingers smoothing your hair against your heavy head. “You okay?”

You inhaled deeply, feeling completely off. “Yeah... yeah,” you insisted softly. “What time is it?” you asked, discombobulated.

“It’s almost midnight,” Mat answered. “How long have you been sleeping?”

You slowly pushed yourself up on your elbows in bed. “Uh... I don’t know,” you admitted. “I watched the first period... I think.”

That wasn’t like you, and Mat knew it. A lifelong hockey fan, you kept close tabs on not only Mat and the Islanders, but the scores from around the entire league each night. Coming from a hockey-loving family, watching highlights on NHL Network was your late night routine. On top of that, you looked flushed to him, and dark circles hung around your eyes, a rarity for you except when you were ill.

“Baby... are you sick?” Mat shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it on the end of the bed and quickly taking a seat next to you on the edge of the mattress. He put the back of his hand to your forehead and studied you carefully. “You don’t feel fevered.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a cold,” you replied, remembering the strange feeling that had overcome you when you sipped your champagne earlier. “I do feel kinda dizzy... nauseous.”

Mat nodded, eyes still full of worry. “Maybe you’re getting the flu,” he suggested. “That’s been going around lately.” You nodded too, yawning.

“Well, listen,” Mat continued, motioning for you to lie back as he pulled the covers over you again. “Go back to sleep, and tomorrow if you still aren’t feeling well, I’ll run to the pharmacy and get you some medicine and stuff. Okay?”

You nodded again, overcome once more by exhaustion as you settled back into your bed. “Okay,” you whispered. “Thanks, babe. Hey, did you win?”

Mat smiled. “Yeah, baby, we won. Now get some rest. I love you, sweet girl,” he said, pressing a warm kiss to your temple.

“I love you, Maty,” you breathed. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, my love,” he whispered, his thumb tracing your bottom lip slowly as you immediately drifted back to sleep.

And now here you were, seven hours later, heaving into the toilet as Mat dropped to his knees behind you on the tile, gathering your long hair into his hands as quickly as possible.

“Oh, honey,” he groaned, rubbing your back. “You poor thing.”

After flushing the toilet several times to get rid of the contents, you finally sat upright, cautiously, slowly.

“God, I feel like shit,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your forehead as Mat ran his hands back and forth down your legs, trying to soothe you.

“I can tell,” he said sadly, standing. You looked up at him helplessly as he said, “I’m gonna go get you flu meds from the pharmacy. Let me just get dressed.”

You nodded once, feeling too lightheaded to move your head any more than that. You didn’t budge from your place on the floor as Mat took his robe from the hook on the door and wrapped it around your shoulders, kissing the crown of your head before exiting the bathroom. You heard him shuffling around in his drawers as you closed your eyes, willing the queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach to cease.

Moments later, Mat called out to you from the bedroom.

“Do you need anything else from the drugstore while I’m there, baby?”

You opened your eyes to glance around the bathroom, trying to keep your head as still as possible. You saw toothpaste, Tylenol, and... did you have enough tampons?

You reached next to you to open the drawer that held your monthly supplies, and you were surprised to find two boxes of tampons, not even opened, along with a plethora of pads and liners.

Finally, it hit you like a crashing wave. Suddenly, your world started spinning, and it wasn’t because of the nausea.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, slamming the drawer shut.

“Maty...” you called out hoarsely, causing him to rush back toward the bathroom. Your heart was racing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously as he appeared in the doorway, ready to take up residence on the floor with you again if necessary.

You bit your bottom lip and inhaled a shaky breath before answering, sounding much more calm than you felt.

“I need you to buy me a test,” you said matter-of-factly.

At first, Mat wore a blank expression. “What kinda te— wait…” he said as you watched the wheels turning in his head. You couldn’t help but allow a small smile to spread across your lips as the realization hit him, too. He froze, mouth slightly agape, wide eyes searching yours to try and determine whether you were serious. Reading him, you nodded, which caused his eyes to widen even further.

“A pregnancy test,” you confirmed in a shaky voice.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered familiarly, his own smile beginning to play on his lips.

_____

“That was Liana,” Mat said, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his sweats after ending the brief call. “She’s catching a flight in the morning.”

You nodded gratefully as Mat returned to your side, dutifully grabbing your hand and running his other over your rounded stomach.

“She said to tell you she loves you, and baby, too,” he added with a warm grin. “And that she—“

Mat stopped short the second he heard you groan softly, the smile you’d worn upon hearing Liana’s name having morphed quickly into a wince.

“Another contraction?” Mat asked, hastily pulling the stool by the bed closer and taking a seat.

“Mhm,” you confirmed tightly, rolling on your side to look into his eyes, seeking a diversion. The pain in your face absolutely shattered Mat’s heart. He despised how helpless he felt watching you.

“Just look at me. Breathe, baby,” Mat coached before breathing in and out just as your Lamaze instructor had taught you both, nodding his head to urge you to mimic him. You did your best, squeezing his big hand hard enough that Mat saw his fingertips turning white, though he was too smart and too concerned with your labor pains to point that out.

“Good girl. Breathe, sweetheart. Good girl,” Mat encouraged. “That’s my girl,” he added softly, lightly dragging his fingernails along your scalp, combing his hand through your hair, in an attempt to comfort you.

“I seriously hate you right now,” you spat between pants and gasps. “You did this to me.”

Though he tried to hold back, a breathy laugh passed through Mat’s nose. “Yeah, my mom warned me you might say that,” he told you. “I’d hate me right now, too,” he added, running his fingers along your forearm lightly as you grimaced in agony.

Finally, your muscles relaxed as the contraction passed. Your face softened and your eyes fluttered open to see Mat staring at you intently, concern etched into his gorgeous features. You reached out your hand to run a thumb over his strong jaw.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, giving him your best smile as you caught your breath.

Mat nodded. “I just hate seeing you hurting,” he whispered back. You gave him an understanding look and then grinned brightly.

“But it’s gonna be worth it,” you assured, making Mat’s eyes light up. He kissed your palm and you asked, “Now what else did Liana say? Distract me.”

With a smile, Mat said, “That she can’t wait to meet this little one.” He leaned his head forward to kiss your belly sweetly as you smiled softly, leaning back against the mattress to rest up momentarily before the next wave, as the memory of telling Liana the news months ago came to mind.

_____

Twelve weeks

Your phone buzzed on the dining room table, vibrating against the glass top. Normally, you would never answer a call during a Valentine’s Day dinner with Mat, even at home, but these particular circumstances allowed for an exception.

“It’s Liana,” you smirked, swiping to answer the FaceTime call as Mat muttered, “Nice of her to call you and not her own brother.”

You ignored his complaint and smiled at the woman who was basically your sister-in-law.

“Hi, Li,” you said happily. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Liana didn’t even let you finish your greeting before she asked hurriedly, “What the fuck is going on?”

Mat leaned closer into you in order to be included in the camera’s view. “That’s rude,” he chirped, trying to sound angry, but being betrayed by the smirk twitching at his pink lips.

“No, seriously, you guys,” Liana continued, sounding anxious. “What does this mean?” She lifted the card from the full bouquet of blush pink roses before her. “‘Happy Valentine’s Day, Li,’” she read. “‘We’re so excited to give you another member of the family to love this August.’  And it’s signed from you guys and ‘Baby B...’”

Liana’s eyes flicked back up to your own and she couldn’t stand still, pacing her kitchen. “It’s not funny to joke about this,” she insisted, sounding confused and slightly offended.

“It isn’t a joke, dude,” Mat giggled. “We’re having a baby.”

Liana started screaming after “having.”

Laughter racked your body as you watched her jump up and down, tears streaming down her face as she squealed and asked a dozen times whether you were serious. You nodded each time until her hysteria finally subsided.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” Liana asked with a quaking voice, wiping the dampness from her cheeks.

“Yeah, they know,” you confirmed, swiping at a couple of your own fallen tears. Damn hormones.

“But listen, Liana,” Mat interjected, putting on his most serious tone. “They know, and her family knows, but past that, we haven’t told a soul. We honestly might not tell anyone else, depending on how soon she starts to show. We don’t want crazy fans or, God forbid, the media to get ahold of it and just be intrusive. We’ve seen how that goes. We just want this to be as private as possible. So you can’t post anything, can’t tell any of your friends. Okay?”

Liana nodded, sniffling throughout her brother’s command. “Yeah, totally,” she immediately concurred. “I get it. I think you guys are smart for doing it this way. This is like Kylie Jenner shit.”

You and Mat both snickered at that comparison for multiple reasons, then Liana began truly processing the news.

“Wait... so,” she began. “How far along are you?”

“Twelve weeks,” you replied. “So barring anything out of the ordinary, that kind of means we’re in the clear, risk-wise.”

“And you’re okay? Everything is okay?” Liana asked nervously.

Mat nodded, appreciating his little sister’s obvious concern for you and the baby. “She’s okay, Liana,” he assured as you smiled at him. “She’s perfect,” he added, picking up your hand to press a kiss to your fingers, causing Liana to tear up once again.

“You better take such good fucking care of her, Mat. You hear me? She doesn’t have her mom or any of us nearby, so she needs you,” Liana said firmly to her brother. You warmed at her display of womanly solidarity, ever thankful to have an ally in her.

Mat rolled his eyes. “Yes, Liana, I’ve been taking care of her for years,” he said, unamused.

“Yeah, well, it’s different now,” Liana pointed out. “Now she’s carrying my niece or nephew!”

You and Mat grinned at each other once more, Mat rubbing his hand slowly across your lower belly, which was mostly still flat, save for a slight, bloated curve.

“Yeah, she is,” Mat said airily, gazing into your blue eyes deeply as his sister resumed her squealing in the background.

_____

“Can I please have more ice chips?” you asked as you came down from yet another contraction, sounding whinier than you meant to and slightly hating yourself for it.

Mat smiled warmly down at you, pushing some of your hair back from your forehead and tenderly placing a kiss to your temple.

“Yes. You get all the ice chips you want, sweet girl,” Mat cooed, nuzzling his nose in your hair before stepping back and winking at you, grabbing the ice bucket from the bedside table. If there was one thing you had enjoyed most about the experience of pregnancy and labor, it was the way Mat spoiled you, ever attentive to your needs and wants. “I’ll be right back. Don’t have that baby while I’m gone,” he instructed, pointing at you.

Despite the discomfort you felt, you still breathed a laugh and rolled your eyes at him, Mat positively beaming at you as he walked backwards out of your suite, then turned down the hall.

As you rested your hands against your belly and your head back on the pillow, spotting the big bouquet of flowers Tito had sent for you, another memory from the past several months flashed in your mind.

_____

Twenty weeks

“I’m sorry,” Tito choked out once he stopped coughing on the Easter ham you’d made for a small group of the Isles boys, who had just begun playoffs and therefore weren’t traveling for the holiday, and their significant others. “You’re what?!”

You and Mat giggled, Mat squeezing your thigh under the table reassuringly. Sydney, late in her own pregnancy, jumped from her seat, tears springing to her eyes, and squealed as she ran to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders as you sat grinning at the others — Tito, Marty, Anders, Grace, Josh, and Meg — whose mouths hung open as they tried to process your announcement.

You turned back to Mat, the same broad smile seemingly permanently plastered on his handsome features the past few months stretching across his face once again.

“You wanna show them?” he asked softly, the tone in his voice telling you the decision was yours completely. You nodded, grasping the fabric of your knit sweater, the same casually chic, baggy style that you’d stocked up on to hide your growing stomach.

Sydney let go of you, allowing you to stand from your chair, as she nearly shouted, “What do you mean, show us?! How pregnant are you?!”

You bit your bottom lip, still smiling from ear to ear, and turned sideways, lifting your sweater to reveal your noticeable, ever-rounding bump beneath your high-waisted leggings.

A collective gasp sucked the oxygen from the room, Mat smirking at your friends, as you quietly admitted, “I’m twenty weeks...”

Tito pounded a fist to the table in disbelief and let out a holler. Anders raised his own fists over his head so fast that he knocked off the black baseball cap he wore. Josh and Marty couldn’t stop yelling, “No!” and “No fucking way,” respectively. Meg and Grace immediately leapt to their feet, too. “You’re halfway?!” they shouted in unison.

All Mat could do was beam proudly at you, bringing your waist close as he pressed a reverent, chaste kiss to your stomach over your sweater.

“Surprise!” you sang softly to the onlookers, your voice watery as a couple of happy tears escaped your eyes. The girls all embraced you, taking turns rubbing your belly, as the guys uttered boyish praises to Mat, joking that they didn’t know he had it in him.

Besides your and Mat’s parents and siblings, you still hadn’t told any friends of your pregnancy — making this sacred time that much more special for you and Mat.

But it was time to tell this circle. It had gotten more and more difficult and complicated to refuse drinks when the wives and girlfriends met for brunch, and even Mat was struggling to come up with excuses for why he wanted to rush home from the arena when the rest of the guys his age wanted to go to the bar to celebrate big wins. This close-knit group knowing the truth would help combat that.

You certainly didn’t plan to tell the whole team — quite frankly, there were some recently-added guys you just didn’t know well enough yet, along with some newer girlfriends who seemed a little suspect when it came to keeping team matters close to the vest. You and Mat agreed that you’d tell your close group of Isles friends and leave it at that. And that group, this group, these friends who had become much more like family — these felt like the right people to let in on the secret.

_____

“I’m scared,” you whimpered. “I don’t know if I can do it.” The pain was excruciating now, the pressure was building, and your doctor had just informed you that it was time to push. You felt like crying, but you were so paralyzed by the fear that gripped your chest that no tears were flowing.

“Hey…” Mat began softly, gently taking your face in both of his hands and angling it to look up at him, his eyes radiating confidence and pride. “Listen to me, okay? You’ve been so strong throughout this whole pregnancy. I know better than to believe that that’s gonna end now. You can do this, my love. I know you can,” he encouraged. “And I’ll be right here the whole time.”

You nodded, still feeling completely unprepared but somehow strengthened by Mat’s faith in you. As the doctor approached, gowned and gloved, she looked at you with anticipation.

“You ready, sweetie?” she asked. With one last look up at Mat, who nodded and kissed your knuckles, you turned back to her with a nod of your own. She patted your knee and said, “Okay, let’s have a baby. On the count of three, I want you to push, just the way we talked about. Daddy, you hold this knee. Ready? One… two… three… push.”

_____

Twenty-three weeks

The Isles had lost in the second round of the playoffs. Mat was obviously disappointed, but he was also more excited for this offseason than he’d ever been for a summer before, which certainly softened the blow. You were having his baby in just three more months, and he absolutely could not wait. Mat was ready to commence full dad mode — getting the nursery ready, reading the books, and most importantly, keeping a close eye on you every moment that he could.

On the same day the guys were cleaning out their lockers and giving final interviews following the end of the playoff series loss, Mat had scheduled a meeting with the coaching staff and team public relations executives to inform them of your pregnancy. He wanted them to be aware of the situation in case the news got out before the birth, especially as your baby bump was getting harder to hide. Since the two of you had decided to stay in New York for the summer instead of returning to British Columbia, to avoid travel late in your pregnancy, he knew that the chances of someone spotting your round stomach and starting to talk about it was higher on Long Island than in Coquitlam. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if the news got out, but if you and Mat could help it, you’d much prefer that it didn’t. He wanted this experience to be peaceful for you and as enjoyable as possible.

The meeting had gone well, which was unsurprising. The staff was thrilled for the two of you and promised to keep a tight lid on the information until you were ready to share it publicly after the baby had been born — they also agreed to evade any questions that their office might encounter on the topic during the summer.

Mat had thanked them profusely and said his goodbyes before leaving the building, heaving his heavy equipment bags into his trunk, and heading back home to you. A few minutes later, his phone dinged with a text from you and he glanced down at it at the next stoplight. It was a photo of the two of you in front of Big Ben on a rare sunny day in England, Mat hugging you close to his chest.

“This just popped up in my memories. Four years ago today we were in London and you told me you loved me for the first time. Look at us now. 💋”

Mat grinned at the message before returning the phone to his cupholder, his mind traveling back in time to that first big vacation the two of you had taken together. He knew your affinity for English culture — the fashion, the history, and, of course, the royal family, so he decided to take you on a trip across the pond a couple of months after you started dating.

It was one of the best decisions he’d ever made, as it brought the two of you much closer in those early days of your relationship — so close, in fact, that he found himself professing his love for you over a candlelight dinner on your last night in London. You had frozen, just for a moment, before a broad smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling.

“I love you, too, Maty,” you’d said softly, allowing Mat to finally exhale as he basked in the knowledge that you felt the same way as he.

London was a landmark in your love story. Mat blinked a few times at that thought, an idea suddenly coming over him.

London…

_____

London Riley Barzal, named for the city where you fell in love and given your current last name as a middle name, was born August 15 at 8:13 p.m., after twenty hours of labor.

You and Mat had never known a love like the one you found the moment your baby girl was laid on your chest, and he had never been more fiercely in love with you than he was as he watched you snuggle her close.

“God, she’s so beautiful,” Mat breathed, voice quivering as he realized that this tiny girl belonged to him — to both of you.

“She’s perfect. Just perfect,” you agreed as her strong cries suddenly quieted into small whimpers.

Immediately, Mat looked you in the eye. “She knows your voice,” he said in astonishment.

As your baby blinked and squinted before opening her eyes for the very first time, she seemed to look directly up at her daddy. You smiled knowingly at Mat, who was frozen in place as he locked eyes with his baby daughter for the first time.

“I think she knows yours, too,” you suggested, the two of you smoothing your fingertips over her tiny face and hands in wonder.

You spent several minutes soaking it all in as a brand new family of three, both talking to London softly and placing kisses on her tiny head, before the nurse took her from your arms to take her vitals and give her a brief exam.

As you watched your healthy, gorgeous baby being fawned over by the medical team, you breathed a deep sigh of relief and a silent prayer of gratitude before opening your eyes again to see the love of your life staring down at you in absolute amazement.

“You did so good, baby,” Mat said through tears of pure joy. He pressed his lips to your damp forehead, cupping your cheek in his hand. “You did so good. You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m so goddamn proud of you,” he praised.

“We have a baby, Maty,” you said with an awestruck, tearful chuckle. “I just had our baby.”

Mat nodded, grinning. “We have a daughter, my love,” he said. “Our little London.”

_____

One week later…

[unloved-cadillac]

How would Dabi be with a civilian s/o:

>𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

In all honesty, this man probably bumped into you on the sidewalk or in a store. Of course he was disguised, but you did catch a glimpse of his scars. Or burns? You couldn’t remember.

“Hey. Watch it.” He said a bit annoyed. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” You responded with a kind smile. Dabi’s mind went: cute.

After you left, he followed you. Out of protection for you and because he wanted to know where you lived. Very blunt, I know.

Dabi stalked you. Plain and simple. When he wasn’t busy with the league, he made it his mission to be near you. He found out where you worked, what restaurants you liked to eat at, family members, your friends. All the stuff he could get his hands on.

Your name was beautiful. Dabi found himself saying your name over and over again to himself but caught himself and scoffed. “Damn woman.”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t fantasize of having a relationship with you. The sex part and the usual bases of a relationship. Hand holding, talking. Everything.

But it was until he got caught by you in an alleyway did he know he was fucked. He was Dabi. The Cremation Villain. Villain. That’s what he was. All he ever would be, even to you.

“Hi. You’re the guy I bumped into the other day, isn’t it?” You say snapping him away from his thoughts. He chuckles. “Yeah.” He answers.

“I’m Y/n. What’s your name?” You ask. I know. I know everything about you. “Dabi.” He saw your eyes widen a bit. “Oh. You’re the villain aren’t you?” He nods. “But I’m not gonna hurt or mug you. I have no reason to anyway.” He explains and your shocked face relaxes into a smile. “Good. I’m broke anyway.” You joke and he chuckles.

“You’re not gonna call the cops or run for your life?” Dabi asks while you shake your head. “I have no reason to.” You repeat his words back at him and it was his turn to be shocked. “Well, see ya around. Dabi.” You walk past him and wave.

What?

After that, you started seeing Dabi everywhere you went. You, being you, didn’t find it weird or creepy. Actually, you felt a bit safer knowing that if you were to bump into trouble, you had him there.

You left some snacks and letters for him by your mailbox where you knew he stood. Dabi happily took it and snacked on it while he read your letters. Some were just a “hi :)” or “I saw you ;)” it made him chuckle, that’s for sure.

Finally, after months, he found himself in your apartment. You were at work, which he obviously knew, so he decided to snoop around. See what this girl who caught his attention  was like.

You had basic stuff. A table, 2 chairs and a small ass kitchen. A tiny TV with a run down couch which looked like it was going to break at any moment. He actually felt sorry for you.

 Your bedroom was a simple, single bed with a white blanket and two pillows. A wardrobe with some of your clothes. He knew you didn’t do laundry at your apartment, since you went to the one down the street, and he saw your basket starting pile up with clothes.

He knew what he was going to do.

He put on his “disguise” and went to the laundry place. He stayed there for 2 hours waiting for your clothes to be ready. And when it was, he realized what the actual fuck he was doing.

He was a criminal, a murderer but here he was, doing laundry for a girl he doesn’t know.

After putting your clothes on your bed, he left. He wanted you. He wanted you and he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.

When you came home, you saw your clothes done and a note beside it:

“You live horribly. Just saying.”

-D.

You scoffed. “Idiot.” You slowly started falling for this man. And you had no idea how or what to do about it.

Couple of days later, after having supper with your friends, Dabi was by your door. Sitting, apparently waiting for you.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my stalker.” You say walking up the stairs to see him. Dabi looked up and chuckled. “Well, that’s a bit harsh.” He says standing up and facing you.

“What brings you here? Want to do more laundry?” You joke and he scratches his head. “Actually, I want to talk to you.” “About?” Fuck. Dabi wasn’t prepared.

“I-, uh.-..” he starts to say. Dammit. How was this so hard?! “Dabi.” You call his name and he looks at you. God, his name sounded good coming from your lips.

“I..like you. I know it’s weird. I don’t even know you. But you seem to be a good person, underneath the scars and burns.” You say and Dabi stares at you. He scoffs and avoids your big e/c eyes. “Damn, Y/n. You made this easier for me.” He says.

“What do you-..,” you don’t get to finish your sentence because his lips landed on yours. He tasted like cigarettes. But it wasn’t unpleasant, you actually liked it.

Pulling away, he cups your cheek and softly kisses your forehead. “I’ll see you around, angel.” Dabi softly tells you and disappears into the night, leaving you wonder what just happened.

Dabi returned back to you after a week. A mission came up and he wanted to at least taste you before he left.

It was 10pm when he knocked on your door. He knew you would be up because you didn’t have work the next day so you would be up watching those shows you love so much.

He waits patiently outside for you. After heading the door open, he sees you. In your robe, wide-eyed and confused.

“Dabi?” You say and walks up to you. “Where were you?” You ask as he moves closer. “Why? Were you worried?” Dabi asks and you blush. “Maybe.” You reply and he smirks.

“Y/n.” He calls and you look up at him, while his finger hooked under your chin.

“What I’m about to tell you, I have never done before. I like you and it terrifies me. But I want you to be mine. You can deny. I won’t blame you. No one would like to be with a villain anyway.” He finishes and looks at you.

All you did was whisper a soft “yes” and brought his lips to yours.

>𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

Dabi spent the night of his confession with you. Not in sex, just sleeping with you. Honestly, he hasn’t slept that well in years.

The next morning he left you, having needed to return back to the league. But he did get you breakfast.

You didn’t tell anyone that you were involved with someone, let alone a villain. You didn’t want Dabi to get caught.

A few months into your relationship, Dabi started to give you money. Where he got it from, you didn’t know. But when you refused, he took the money and bought something for your apartment. A new couch, food, a new TV. New bedding. He practically renovated your apartment.

Although the both of you had discussed it, Dabi couldn’t stay longer than a week with you. He couldn’t have the League asking questions of his whereabouts and exposing you.

He would rather leave without giving you a day he would be back thangive you false hope and get sad about him.

But that one week per month that he did stay, was the best week you ever had.

Dabi and you watched movies, played cards, cooked. He even taught you some recipes that he remembered from all those years ago.

When it came to sex, Dabi cared for you like no other did before him. He was gentle and loving almost. He hated leaving you in the morning too. That’s why he saved those intimate times for the nights he knew he could stay.

Now, almost a year into your relationship, Dabi trusted you with his life. When he would run from the police, he came to your apartment. Sometimes at 4am.

Knock knock. You hear on the window. Walking up to it, you see him. “Dabi?!” You whispers shout, “What the hell?” “Sorry, angel face. Gotta hide. May I?” “Of course you idiot. Get in here!”

You would wear his shirt all the time. And he loved seeing you in it.

Dabi also liked laying on your tummy, in between your legs while you ran your hands through his hair. That’s when you saw it.

🚫SPOILER🚫

“Baby? Why is your hair white?” You ask and he shoots up and touches his head. “What?” “It’s white. By your crown.” You point and he sprints to the bathroom.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You hear him whisper. Dabi sorta calms down and comes back into your room.

“Y/n. There’s something I need to tell you.” He says seriously. You sit up while he sits down next to you. He places his hand on your thigh and looks at you.

“My name, my real name, is Touya Todoroki. Endeavor is my father..” he begins and continues with his whole story. You listen intently and squeeze his hand in reassurance.

After he poured out all of the shit that he kept on his chest for years, you leaped into his arms making you both fall back on the bed, and smothered him in kisses.

You kissed his scars on his neck and mouth. Then moved to the ones under his eyes. He watched you and you then kissed him fully.

“Can I call you Touya?” You whisper and he nods. “Only here though.” “Of course. Thank you, babe. For telling me.” You say and he hugs you tighter. No. Thank you, Y/n.

It was a bumpy ride with plenty of fights between the two of you, but it was just out of missing each other. He tried keeping you safe as did you.

Dabi loved you. He really did. He told you on night before he left for three weeks. It was emotional and raw, because you loved him too.

But little did he know, someone had picked up on his routine...

———————————————————————

“I’m going through a Dabi phase.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.