#he does that and yoga to help his pain!

[becoach-a]

beard hula hooping to help his aches + pain? likely!

[curtins]

MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.

[volturissideslut]

Hello!! I'm so sorry to ask but if it's okay can you do a thingy with the Volturi (all of them please) on how they would react to their human mate being on their 🩸🩸if you know what I mean. If not that is completely understandable and okay! Thank you for reading!! :3 🌹🫶

𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

Contains some nsfw thoughts. I've been thinking of writing a period nsfw fic with one of the vamps, lmk what you think

Aro, like most vampires, has been around for a long long time. And though he does not regard humans as being worthy of his time, you are different. You are his mate. And so he takes it upon himself to learn everything. To read studies, to understand your experience, to know what he can do to help you. The Volturi donates to charities of endometriosis and others. Even long after you are turned he continues, the money is nothing to him and even though you no longer live you know. Aro will always do his best to understand you

Marcus would be so attentive with you and just do as you ask. He's a rather mellow and agreeable man (at least with you he is) and so he is more than happy to be at your beck and call. Want space? you got it. Want to basically be one with him from how close you are? He's laid down and waiting for you to get yourself comfortable. The man just keeps his mouth shut and does as you ask. Happy wife happy life, a phrase taken a little to literally for him in her every moment.

Caius just wants to eat you out honestly. Please ride his face, let him eat you out and taste your blood. He has also heard that it can help with any cramps and pains so, not to worry, dear Caius is at your service. Who is he to refuse you? To refuse a meal and a feast all in one would just be wrong.

Jane only experienced them for a few years, and though she doesn't necessarily remember them she is the most empathetic. Outwardly she may not do much - but in the privacy of your own shared chambers there is nothing you can compare. Nothing soothes like her gentle touch, or the natural remedy passed from her grandmother to her mother to her, and now you.

Alec is another who is at your beck and call, and though he will perhaps tease you a little, he wouldn't take it too far. Sly comments and little pokes are common, but all in good jest. He would never want to actually upset you of course, but if it brings a little smile to your face with an exasperated roll of your eyes then at least he knows you're happy. And if you're happy then so is he.

Demetri also eats you like a man starved. He doesn't care if there is blood all down him, or all in his mouth. You are gorgeous, ravishing even, and he just can't get enough. He could live buried between your thighs, especially during that time of the month. The taste of you is unlike any other to him, and we all know that this man likes it a little dirty and rough.

Felix calls you his whiny baby but still is there for whatever you may need. Tummy rubs, head scratches, couples yoga, he's got you. Don't want to walk or even stand? He's picked you up from the same comfortable position you were in to move you to the fresh bubble bath he's ran for you, setting you down gently in there. Honestly, you could cry from how much you love and appreciate him. Whiny baby, you just need to be loved, don't you?

[nekomanager]

.—♡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 { IWAIZUMI HAJIME }

IWA-CHAN has one temptation he cannot resist and it’s you…his best friend’s younger sister; a repost from my og blog

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, fingering, pussy eating, ass squeezing and some risky position c/o iwa-chan 🙈💦, creampie, dacryphilia, softdom iwa-chan, petname: angel

Hajime had his arms folded, fists clenched and so was his jaw as he watched you bend over while you pick up your jug of water. Your ass on that yoga pants almost hid nothing for his imagination. Not to mention that the tightness of that pants outlined the shape of your pussy.

Shit!

It’s all that shittykawa’s fault! He was the one who’s supposed to work out with you today because he’s finally on vacation in Japan for a while.

This was supposed to be a big brother and little sis bonding time but he phoned early in the morning….“Iwa-chan can you work out with Y/N-chan today….blah blah blah” What a silly excuse he gave!

But Hajime didn’t want to let you down. Not you. He didn’t want to see you upset, so he’d willingly stand in for your brother on this work out he promised.

“Are we done?” You asked, your face flushed from the sweating and it caught him off guard a little.

“Ah, yes.”

Hajime scolded himself as you both walked to your home. You’re his best friend’s little sister! What was he even thinking? Not that you’re a minor or whatever.

Ever since you were younger, Hajime saw you as his little sister too, but things started changing when Oikawa left for Argentina and Hajime went back home from the U.S.

He was surprised that you’re no longer the little girl he once thought you were.

Damn! You grew up so fine that you had been an excruciating forbidden fruit for him to bear. He couldn't help but admire you everytime your mom would invite him for a dinner in your home every weekends.

He felt guilty at times that whenever he would stroke himself an image of you would pop out in his head. His best friend's little- no, scratch that- younger sister.

You didn't seem little anymore.

“Do you wanna have some tea?” You invited him in and he obliged. “Oh, mom's not here by the way but she left something for you.”

“Huh? So who’s home?” He asked, abruptly.

You placed your bottle atop the table. “No one. Just us, I think.”

Oh shit. This was a mistake.

“Just get yourself comfy.” You chuckled. “I’ll just change my shirt and will get right back with your tea.”

“Yeah, sure…” He smiled at you as you headed into your room. As soon as you were gone, he ran a hand on his face.

What was he doing here alone with you?

Suddenly, he was alarmed when he heard a pained sound from you. Immediately, he rushed up to your room to check on you. He couldn’t let anything happen to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, standing outside your bedroom with a worried look on his face. Your door was slightly open hence he could see you inspecting your back in the mirror.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a lower back pain. Maybe because it had been so long since I last worked out that hard.” You reassured him touching the area where it stung while looking at it in the mirror.

Hajime went behind you to see for himself. “Where does it hurt?”

Your breathing started to get heavier than before as he stood right behind you so close. “H-Here…” You pointed out the area under your shirt just above your hip.

His rough hand gently caressed your skin. You gasped.

“Here?” He asked, voice now raspy and almost breathless.

“Yes…”

He continued massaging you gently. His hand soothingly rubbing in circles. His warmth and pressure made you moan uncontrollably. Your eyes met through the mirror as you both breathed raggedly. Your gazes were filled with helplessness, need. and lust.

You both gulped.

“H-He’ll kill me if I-” Hajime tried but he could no longer rationalize as you already stepped backward and had your ass pressed against his now hardened cock straining against his sweatpants.

“Fuck it!” He said under his breath as you leaned yourself back on his sturdy body.

Your body moved on its own without thinking. It's Iwaizumi Hajime we were talking about. It had been years since you were admiring him from afar as you thought he couldn't see you more than being his best friend's younger sister.

However, with the way his eyes lustfully raked your body all this time this morning, you knew that you're no longer a little sister in his eyes anymore.

His hand now roam under your yoga pants and your panties, finding its way hot on your skin. Massaging your ass, he breathed against your ear. “You sure you want to do this?"

You nodded your head. "Yes, please," you said, almost running out of breath.

"Then tell me where else does it hurt, angel?” He whispered.

You whimpered and ground against his erection. From your ass cheek, he slowly traveled his hand in between your thighs. “Here? Tell me. Does it ache here too?”

You nodded your head and tilted it back once he began massaging the lips of your pussy with the friction of his rough fingers. Finding out you were so wet for him already, he gained confidence that it wasn’t just him feeling this bothered all along. “I see…you’ve been aching this much, huh?”

Your hand flew up to reach his head from behind you now giving him access for a kiss. He wasted no chance and immediately tasted your lips. His tongue making its way inside your mouth and his fingers starting to explore your folds, tracing your slit and teasing your clit.

You moaned against his mouth and ground even harder against him, which made him groan.

Not being able to contain it any further, he completely pulled down your bottoms. “Face here.” He ordered and you followed. He knelt in front of you and gasped once he’s face to face with your cunt glistening with arousal. “So pretty.” He murmured as his hands parted your thighs. His mouth met your folds and his tongue circled round and round on your clit.

“Hmmn, ahhh,” you cried out and it encouraged him to go faster and press even harder to please you even more.

Grabbing your thigh, he wrapped your leg around his shoulder. You tugged on the strands of his hair, finding balance as he drank you deep. His other hand clenching and unclenching your ass repetitively.

God, you’re just dripping for him that he could drink you bottomless. This alone made it harder for him not to come just by going down on you.

It wasn’t enough though. It never would be, so he hooked another of your leg around his shoulder. His biceps bulged as he stood up, carrying you and eating you out at the same time with his hold on your thighs strong and firm.

You yelped as he held you up high with his tongue and lips focused on consuming you. Your heart raced even faster in this position. Both of your hands gripped on his hair as your hips involuntarily gyrate against his mouth while attempting not to fall. His hand squeezing your ass, he'd probably leave a mark there.

Endlessly, you moaned and whimpered. Your brother might come home anytime but it didn’t really matter now. All you could think of was Hajime’s strong grip on you and his skillful sucking and slurping.

“Aaah…ah! Ah! I’m coming! I-I’m-“

With ease, he threw you in your bed.

Just by the feral look in his eyes as he wiped off his chin with the back of his hand, just with the way his muscular chest heaved from his heavy breathing and just from the way your throat felt dry by seeing how hard his cock had gotten through his pants, you knew.

You knew you were just about to begin.

“Not yet, angel.” He knelt between your parted legs and took his shirt off. “We’re not done yet.”

Your eyes were stuck on the plane of his well-sculpted chest. The sweat that crawled down from his skin made you lick your lips involuntarily. If only your brother wasn’t about to come home anytime, you’d take time getting a taste of Hajime.

Holding your chin, he made you look up at him and took your lips to his. So fuckin’ sexy. Just how he imagined devouring those lips for so long with your tongues entwined with each other like this. While you were busy getting lost in the kiss, he took your hand and pressed it over his sweatpants just right where you could feel him throbbing big and hard for you.

“You feel that?” He breathed against your cheek. “Tell me you want it.”

Feeling tingly in between your thighs, all you could do was nod in response.

“Use your words, angel.” He commanded

Breathlessly, “I…want you please.”

He shifted his pants down and you gasped at the sight of his cock from beneath. You never thought he would be that rock hard so sturdy and huge, but your pussy couldn’t wait to receive him. He parted your legs further. Damn! You’re so wet and it did make his cock twitch. He never felt so needy and hot like this before.

“I’m going in. You ready?” He asked and you nodded your head. “Okay…take a deep breath, angel. That’s right. Very good.”

“Hnghh!” You both winced at the very moment he slid his full length inside of you.

“Did you…Did you just come for me angel?”

You nodded your head and whimpered. You were still sensitive but he started easing in so slow. You clung around his shoulder but you soon found your nails digging his back as he began to hasten.

Fuck! He’s hitting you so deep. You’re so deep and tight, squeezing his girth so snug. “Ahh, shit! Feels so good, angel.” He chanted under his breath. “So long…” Thrust. “I’ve been wanting to do this.”

He swore he tried to be gentle with you, but with you moaning his name like you needed more, he couldn’t help but lose himself. The more he pushed and pull from you, the more he wanted to do it faster, rougher, harder.

“Hah…Ha…Hajime, ahhh~”

Still, he wanted to know if you’re in the same page. After all, you’re his now. “What do you want? Tell me. Now.” He growled.

“M-More…everythingh-“

“Fuck!” There’s no stopping him now. He pulled away from you, kneeling. He raised your legs up high and opened you up wide in a V, gripping your ankles with his strong hands. His cock slammed back inside so deep in you that you spilled a tear or two. You tried to cover your cries but had to hold on to your sheets or you might end up floating.

Groan and growls were escaping him and his jaw was clenched while he pounded you rapidly like he’s in a marathon.

Come to think of it, your bedroom door’s damn wide open. With the way you were screaming his name, the whole neighborhood probably knew that he was fucking his best friend’s sweet little sister like it’s a fucking work out.

Damn! This was a whole lot better than a work out. He couldn’t even remember that he could fuck full force like this. His hips plunging hard that you were sliding further and further at the very edge of your bed. Both of your skins now red with all the slapping.

You’re now feeling light-headed and you knew you’d completely lose it any moment now. “Haah…Hah Haji-“

“Y/N-chan! Yohooo! Can you please open the door for me? I know you’re there. Your lights are on. Forgot my keys!”

Shit! He’s here!

Much to your surprise, instead of slowing down, Hajime pressed your legs together, bringing them to his right shoulder and hugged them as he fucked you harder. Last thing he wanted, was to hear Oikawa’s yapping while fucking you.

“Y/N-chan?! Where are you?”

“Wait- Wait!” You moaned loudly. The more your brother called out for you and whined outside the rougher Hajime was doing it.

“Y/N-chan, faster~” Tooru yelled from the outside.

Faster huh? Letting go of your legs, he grabbed your waist sliding your body to meet his increased speed. He couldn’t care. Not anymore.

Deep. He was in so deep you could feel him almost reaching your belly. “Yes! Yes! Aaaah, mhmmn coming!” You screamed and quivered. “I-I’m coming!”

Hajime kept his pace finding his own release. Shit! Condoms!

“Fuck! Shit, angel!” He hissed not being able to control himself anymore, spilling his cum inside you. Never mind. Never fucking mind! Oikawa fucking Tooru may as well expect not only a best friend from him but a nephew or a niece too.

You both caught up with your breaths, but it was him who managed to get up first as you laid there limping. He covered your almost bare body with a blanket and kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your lips. “I’ll take care of your annoying brother.”

Oikawa looked so shocked to see his best friend open the door instead his sister. Hajime really wanted to see how he’d react.

“Iwa-chan? What’re you doing here? Oh, you went to see me? Do you miss me that much? We just hang around yesterday.”

Not really, I just fucked your sister so good my fingers were probably imprinted around her waist and ankles. “I just waited for you so that Y/N won’t be alone at home.”

“Wow, I never thought you’d make such a caring big brother, Iwa-chan.”

You bet your ass I’m big and your sister knows it so well.

He might blurt what happened out, but he’s really trying his best to include your consideration in this as well. After all this wasn’t just about him, but damn! This was harder than he thought. Oikawa’s so good at reading people.

Before Hajime could give himself away with Tooru finally starting to become suspicious, you arrived just in time.

You approached him almost tripping, but he caught you in his arms. You couldn’t walk well yet. Your legs still felt like crumbling.

“An- Y/N are you alright?” He asked, concern.

“I just like to thank you and see you off.”

“Do you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine. Well, it was just…so intense.” You reasoned out with a reddened face.

He chuckled and smiled gently at you. “Don’t worry. Let’s take it slow next time, okay?” If only Tooru wasn’t watching, he’d definitely kiss your forehead.

“N-Next time?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yeah I’m free everyweek.”

“I am too.” You grinned in anticipation. “I’m okay with everyweek.”

“Y/N-chan, come on now!”

Hajime swore at that time that on Tooru’s next vacation he’d be welcomed by his new nephew or niece. Might as well both.

“Okay, go on and rest now. You must be worked up.” Fuck! He really wanted to give you a kiss, but… He raised his head and waved at your brother who’s watching keenly, “I’ll just chat with you, bro.”

Bro? Tooru quirked up an eyebrow.

As soon as he turned his back, Hajime grinned. He totally did that on purpose. Once Tooru finally return to Argentina, it won’t only be every week.

JOIN THE 🍷 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄! Get tagged whenever I update ♡

© nekorei 2023 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.

[wqnwoos]

warnings: reader has period cramps (no pronouns)

“i heard that yoga might help,” seungcheol says, voice soft. his hand comes down to squeeze your hip, meeting bare skin where your t-shirt has rucked up; fingers tracing idle patterns over your aching stomach.

still, you twist slightly on the bed, meeting his round, concerned eyes blankly. “if you think i’m moving any time today, you’re mistaken.”

that makes him smile, a brief, fleeting gesture, before his features morph back into worry. “are you sure you don’t need anything else?” he asks. “i could refill the hot water bottle.”

“you’ve done that,” you remind him. “twice.”

“are you hungry?”

you gesture wordlessly to the tray you’d left on the nightstand only half an hour ago.

“or what about — ”

“cheol,” you interject gently, reaching over to cup his face with one hand. “relax. i’m fine. this happens every month!”

your boyfriend’s eyes meet yours for a long moment, uncertainty wavering in those brown irises, before he finally sighs, nods. “i know,” he mumbles, glancing at your hand — it’s still warm against his cheek — and back to your eyes. “i just… i don’t like seeing you in pain.”

everything in you seems to soften, at that. (your heart tightens for a moment — you wonder if that’s its way of holding on to the moment.) and then suddenly you’re grabbing his arm, tugging at it to pull him closer; he shifts obediently, asking, “what?”

“kiss me,” you say — it’s intended as a demand, but comes out as a plea. it doesn’t matter either way, though, because seungcheol would never deny you that: he’s already pressing his lips against yours, and you can feel the smile that curves his mouth ever so slightly as he does it.

“love you,” he breathes, when he pulls back. “but i still think — ”

“i love you too, cheollie. i’m not trying the yoga.”

an / i am so tired and my stomach hurts so bad goodnight this is pure self-indulgence

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can I request doflamingo x male reader who has back pain? (Reader is a young adult)

Donquixote Doflamingo x Male reader

Headcanons

I live in denial that Doffy wouldn’t be a good romantic partner, lalala I cant hear canon at all, I’m covering my ears and burying my head in the sand.

I live for secretly soft Doffy.

Doflamingo is a cruel and sadistic individual, so no one questions or is surprised when you guys start dating, even with the big age difference. With Doffy being 41 and you being somewhere around the younger side of 25.

In public I can’t see Doffy showing any weakness, which by extension also means he doesn’t show you any affection, aside from maybe pulling you into his lap and teasing you in little mean ways.

Also Doffy being, well, Doffy, he would definitely notice your back pain before you ever told him. Maybe he notices it when he’s pulling you to sit in his lap and he sees you grimace, or when he’s got his large hand resting on your back and he feels how you subconsciously lean away from his palm.

He wouldn’t say anything, at least in public, and even for a while in private. Its only if it becomes chronic backpain or gets bad enough that it would pose a threat to your safety that I can see him saying anything.

Other than that, I could see him acting in small ways that would make it easier for you. Like picking out an outfit he just must see you in, and that outfit just happens to put less strain on your back, or be tight in the right areas to lessen the pain.

Or when he’s sitting and doing paperwork in his office, just the two of you. He regularly has you in his lap, its just part of the dynamic, so you don’t question it. But hed be absentmindedly rubbing your back, and maybe pressing his knuckles into the hurting area, or massaging it with his thumb.

You also find pain medication in your things, bet it in the grand bathroom you two share, or on the bedside table. Hes probably also snuck a bottle of pills into your pocket, just in case.

It also wouldn’t be strange to start finding things that could help with the back pain, like a hot water bottle, different oils or ointments, or even a book on ways to stretch and do yoga to lessen body pains tucked into your personal bookshelf.

You would immediately know it was Doffy doing it, and when you thank him for it or just smile at him, he would act like he has no idea what you are talking about. He does appreciate the extra kisses, when you guys are in private.

If your backpains are common or constant, I could also see him subtly massaging you more thoroughly. Like when you guys are cuddling and you are laying on top of him, Doffy would be rubbing and massaging up your spine and down your legs.

It doesn’t happen without him making little comments, that you know he doesn’t fully mean. Like him making some kind of jab about him being much older than you, but you are the one with back pain.

Doffy probably also finds some way to use his strings to help you out in some subtle ways, like him grabbing stuff for you so you wont strain your back further, or him wrapping strings around your torso to give you a squeeze and maybe help loosen the pain up a bit.

You always make sure to thank him obviously. Mainly because you can tell he gets a little bashful or flushed. Not that anybody else would be able to tell, since he always just looks like himself.

But you can tell from the way his wide grin softens just a smidge, or how his brow twitches. Your biggest achievement is still after completely showering him in kisses, after he found some way to make the backpain disappear for a while, where you get a very light flush to his cheeks, and he has to turn his head away to clear his throat.

[butchcarmy]

okay but i can't stop thinking about carmy just watching the reader do yoga or pilates, in a cute workout set, he'd go crazy just watching their body move

but he wouldn'y really see it as something very serious (as people tend to do until they try this sort of exercise and realize it's actually quite difficult), until one evening when he'd join them on the mat after complaining about back or shoulder pain all night, and the reader would show him some stretches and he'd be like WOAH I can RELAX my INSANELY TENSE body? I can feel BETTER? I don't have to be constantly in pain? This is some magic! and surely would reward the reader for helping him out

EHEHE YEAHHH the workout set does a lot for me… and for carmy <3 also it goes without saying but this is🔞, suggestive at the end

They’d set up in front of the tv, yoga mat splayed out and table pushed aside. This is the sight Carmy wakes up to, groggy and lonely without waking up beside them.

“G’morning, sleepy bear.” They greet him brightly, before leaning their head down to stretch. Downward dog, the workout video announces.

“Mornin’, baby,” he yawns back. He sits down on the couch behind them. He indulgently gazes at their legs, wrapped tightly in leggings, following the line up to the curve of their ass. “Y’look cute in that. Is it new?”

“Thanks,” they chirp, turning their upside down head to look at him. “Yeah, they’re new. You like?”

“Quite a bit,” he admits, not bothering to hide the way he’s looking at their ass, and they exhale a breathy laugh.

“Maybe if you do some of this with me, I’ll let you take them off of me,” they offer, grinning shamelessly at him. Cats pose to cows pose, the video instructs, and they’re on their knees, arching their back and sticking out their ass. Surely them wiggling their hips around isn’t part of the video.

Carmy is a simple man. He takes their extra yoga mat and immediately starts following the video alongside them.

“This video isn’t the most beginner friendly,” they’d comment after watching Carmy struggle to keep up. He’s fallen onto the mat, staring up at the ceiling with a grimace.

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” he mumbles, and they nod. They’re seated next to him, looking down into his eyes.

“I know, right? Here, let me show you some easier stretches. It’ll help your back some, too.”

Sure enough, a couple stretches later, Carmy feels like a new man. He didn’t even realize how tense he was until he got to unraveling some of the tension knotted deeply in his muscles.

“I feel incredible,” Carmy says, leaning his body up and down. They’re both are standing beside each other on their mats. “The back pain is so much more manageable.”

“Good! That means you did it right.” They clap excitedly. “Good job, carm!”

“You’re the one who did a good job, teaching me all this.” He pulls them in with his arms and starts kissing their cheeks over and over, making them burst into delighted laughter. “Lemme make it up to you. That offer still standing?”

“Hm? What do you—oh,” they gasp, stilling at Carmy’s fingers playing with the edge of their waistband. “Yeah, offer’s still up…”

“Good to know.” Instead of shoving his hand down their leggings, he roughly drags two fingers up their clothed pussy, pressing and rubbing at their clit. They make a low noise, legs tensing from his touch. “Might take a while for me to get these off.”

[bunniekittiee]

Bi-Han x Fem. Reader (as well as general headcanons)

Alright alright the Bi-Han headcanons was a success so ykw I’ll bless you all again. Also this is my depiction of Bi-Han so if you think I can tweak it and make it better then by all means let me know!

CW: mentions of eating problems, anxiety, illness, chronic illness, a little nsfw, nothing too crazy

Hair combing is an intimate ordeal.

He does not let anyone else touch his hair besides himself and you. He trusts you completely to comb his hair and even put it up for him.

He thinks you do it better than him, but he can manage it himself if needed.

He sighs with relief when his hair is let down, feeling his s/o’s fingers gently massage his aching scalp. It feels so good to him, he loves it.

Bi-Han does like the quietness. Especially after a long day of Grandmaster duties and irritation.

So if it is quiet during this time, he can close his eyes and almost fall asleep as you caress his hair and take care of him.

Sometimes he has fallen asleep when you are doing this.

If you were to ask Bi-Han to bathe together, he would silently go insane for a second and then agree.

Despite seeing you naked more than often, it still gives him butterflies in different scenarios that isn’t inherently sexual. Such as bathing.

He thinks you are beautiful, do not ever be negative about yourself around Bi-Han because he will immediately worry.

If you are worried about gaining weight, he is already overthinking that you will stop eating.

So instead, Bi-Han gently encourages you to train with the other Lin Kuei if you feel that you want to lose weight or prevent yourself from gaining weight.

No, he does not think you are fat at all, do not twist his words.

But Bi-Han is the type of man to give you solutions to help you but not in a rude way.

He just tries to encourage and give you options.

He will also suggest yoga with Kuai Liang. Kuai Liang usually meditates, but he will divulge himself in yoga for you if you are interested.

He does not like to see you sad or upset about your self image. It makes him feel helpless.

Bi-Han can handle a physical threat because he can eliminate it, but when it is a mental threat such as self image issues, depression, etc., Bi-Han finds himself unable to see straight.

Out of his brothers, I see Bi-Han struggling with some anxiety.

Like I said in my previous headcanons, Bi-Han worries for his s/o because she is his weakness. If anyone were to take her away from him, he would practically engulf everything in a blizzard.

I see Bi-Han having anxiety about his brothers as well, whether they are safe or going to be okay.

As much as Bi-Han shuns Smoke, he still worries for him. Smoke is the ‘baby’ of them all, and if he were to see him in any form of pain, he is already wanting to murder the person who inflicted it upon him.

That being said, if you have any sort of health issues that will literally send Bi-Han over the edge.

He is constantly having the medics check you over and he will be riddled with so much anxiety he will stop eating and sleeping well.

God forbid you have a chronic illness or anything at all, at that point Bi-Han will just have an aneurysm.

As tough as his exterior is, Bi-Han can be sensitive.

Please do not call him names, he doesn’t even do that to you and it will hurt his feelings.

He will distance himself and feel melancholy until you apologize. He doesn’t like it when you are rude or mean to him.

As I mentioned in my other previous headcanons, he does get snappy himself so he knows that he is a bit of a hypocrite.

If you were to communicate your feelings to him, whether it is your frustrations, sadness, or anger, he will understand and try his best to relax you and make you feel better.

You do the same for him, so it’s time that he repays that favor.

Bi-Han can be extremely busy with his duties and he knows you hate being cooped up for so long.

So he will allow Smoke and Kuai Liang to take you out, whether that’s for a walk or to Madame Bo’s, Bi-Han just wants to make sure you are happy.

I don’t know where people got the “jealous of my brothers being around my s/o” belief from, but Bi-Han trusts his brothers completely.

He has to, they go into battle and on quests together, they have to deeply trust each other and have a strong bond with one another.

So he lets his brothers take you out, he does not get jealous of that. They would never do anything to you, and Bi-Han knows it is completely out of character for them to do anything in the first place.

So yes, he lets you go out with his brothers and enjoy your time together when he is busy.

Again, he knows you get cooped up and he wants you to have some freedom.

His brothers love that you have somewhat changed Bi-Han but in a good way.

He is somewhat nicer to Smoke and refrains from telling him he is not part of their family. Last time he did, you gave him the absolute worst glare that even Kuai Liang felt his stomach turn.

Bi-Han is gentle as possible with you. His hands have killed and hurt many, he would hate to inflict the same pain on you.

You are like a flower to him, a delicate and precious lively being.

You have softened Bi-Han in many ways, and many appreciate what you have done.

[suzukiblu]

excerpt from the one where Tim Drake goes to an alternate reality and decides to get his other self laid via the local Kon's bisexual awakening:

"Hey, remember when you saved my life earlier?" Tim asks. 

"Yeah, kinda," Kon replies in amusement. "Seeing as it was about two point five seconds after you rigged the evil alien robot army to self-destruct and helped save our entire literal reality's life, so I was definitely paying attention." 

"Flatterer," Tim says with a smirk even as he waves him off. The self-destruct function wasn't even that hard to hack, comparatively. That time he'd downloaded Lex Luthor's active IP files from his personal office while the asshole had been on his damn computer–now that'd been tricky. Interdimensional alien invaders barely compare. And the Brainiac incident still gives him stress migraines when he thinks about it for too long. 

Metropolis sucks and Tim frankly has no idea how his own Kon can stand the place.

But like, getting off-topic here. 

"Well, I was gonna say you should let me pay you back for that," he continues. "But since you bring it up I'll also accept a show of gratitude on behalf of your reality, whichever gets you off harder.” 

Kon laughs, because he is apparently adorable enough to have assumed that was a joke. Precious little moron, Tim thinks fondly. 

"You know, you're a lot less uptight than our version of you is," Kon says, grinning down at Tim before flashing Tim's other self a smirk. "No offense, Rob. Dude's clearly just doing more yoga than you or something. Maybe drinking more tea? Taking the occasional bubble bath?" 

"Silly me, if only I'd invested in more bath bombs in my life," Tim's other self says dryly. 

"It's probably my sex life, actually," Tim himself puts in with an easy shrug. Turns out when you stop pretending you don't have a ridiculously high libido and actually just indulge the thing, a lot of life's little annoyances become a lot easier to handle. Go figure. "Plus my boyfriend Bernard is really great, just his entire existence does wonders for my mood in general and he also makes me eat real food on occasion and monitors my caffeine intake much more reliably than I'm capable of doing on my own. The man is a living antidepressant and I don't even mean that in a fucked-up way, he's just that good." 

"Boyfriend?" Kon blinks at him, then puts on another grin. It takes, Tim cannot help but notice, exactly two beats longer than his real grin would've. "Ohhhhh, okay, so the problem is just that you're not getting laid hard enough?" 

"It is not," Tim's other self says dubiously, watching Kon just a little bit warily and obviously worried about his potential reaction to the word "boyfriend". Well, Tim never claimed to be emotionally intelligent about Kon, so no surprise his other self is also a dumbass there. 

"It kinda is, actually," he tells his other self. "I was tracking my cortisol levels the last time I went on a solo away mission and let's just say they were . . . concerning? Like really concerning. Like by the time I got back I was kiiiiind of convinced I was going to need to go on anti-anxiety meds again. But then I jumped my Kon in the Titans Tower med bay instead and that pretty much solved the problem." 

Kon . . . pauses, sort of. Tilts his head. Tim's other self looks a lot warier.

"'Jumped'," Kon repeats carefully. "Like . . . what, you dragged him to the gym to spar or something?" 

"Like I blew his back out so hard that when he came his TTK fritzed out and disassembled my recovery bed," Tim clarifies helpfully. "It really helped with the cortisol levels issue." 

Kon blinks. Tim's other self looks pained, but also desperately envious. Tim would also be desperately envious if their situations were reversed and so does not blame him for said envy in the slightest. 

"I thought you said you had a boyfriend?" Kon says after a moment, sounding a little odd in a very telling way. Or at least very telling to Tim, anyway. 

As is the way that he's not looking at Tim's other self at all anymore. 

"Open relationship," Tim says. "Also Bernard thinks you're stupidly hot and really likes hearing about the kind of stuff you let me do to you. I've actually been debating inviting you over for his birthday so he can watch us live for once but I haven't asked you yet." 

"What, so your Kon is the side chick?" Kon jokes, awkwardly putting on another just barely belated grin. 

"More like my kept boy, functionally speaking, but he's having a 'weird about commitment' phase right now so I've just been making a lot of sugar baby jokes to soften him up," Tim replies with a shrug. It's only sort of been working, but it has been working, and he's willing to take his time on it. It's not fair to expect Kon to only be easy, after all. "Long-term goal is to marry Bernard and ideally get Kon to 'live-in boyfriend' status somewhere in there, but that would also require him not being weird about commitment and also figuring out how well he and Bernard get along in the same space, so we'll just have to see how that one goes." 

"Uh," Kon says. "Why?" 

"Because you are incredibly important to me and also look like a very horny Renaissance sculptor made you out of calacatta marble," Tim tells him matter-of-factly, gesturing meaningfully at him. "Frankly it's criminal that you ever put clothes on."

[mattluvr]

dad!matt, a concept.

best read in dark mode ⏾

🧸 part ii — the labour. . .

ᡣ𐭩 october 22nd. 6am. exactly one day late, and yours and matt’s daughter is on the way.

you’re nervous, naturally, the mere sight of the soaked bedsheets from where your waters broke moments ago making your chest feel tight; it hadn’t really sunk in that you’d actually have to give birth eventually, the pain slowly creeping its way through your body planting reality in place. even more so when the first contraction grips you.

you move towards matt, seeking comfort in his hold as the pain ripples through you. “fuck, i didn’t think it would hurt this bad.” you mutter through gritted teeth, nails clamping onto matt’s shoulders.

he sighs, rubbing the small of your back in soft circles as his eyebrows draw together. he’s concerned, obviously, but the contraction passes quickly, and he seizes the opportunity to grab your hospital bag and pack you up into the car.

after you did your hair and makeup of course.

ᡣ𐭩 the journey to the hospital is more dangerous than the one from your labour scare a month ago; matt drives faster with only one hand on the wheel, the other clutched in yours as you use it to ground you through each contraction.

they’re more often and closer together, which you know from the endless pregnancy books you read is a telltale sign of your cervix dilating, and you silently start to pray this also means that the rest of pregnancy goes smoothly, complication free.

although, judging by the death grip matt has on your hand, you’re not sure whether you can rule out the prospect of your boyfriend fainting from pure stress.

he pulls into the hospital’s parking lot in a record time of 10 minutes, at least five speeding tickets with his name written all over them, but does not stop to give either of you time to breathe, a whirlwind as he rushes round to your side, hospital bag from the trunk already resting in the crook of his arm.

you laugh, accepting matt’s outstretched hand as you amble towards the entrance to the hospital. “i’ve never seen you move you fast.”

ᡣ𐭩 you and matt check in at reception, with only one contraction marring your words, and the midwives are quick to find you a room and gown.

you change in the bathroom, trying your very best to ignore how the contractions make you double over each time, the green pattern on the hospital gown making your eyes hurt alongside the baby. you settle down in the bed and your midwife introduces herself to you and matt as she hooks you up to a monitor, the name betty suiting her grey curls and soft smile perfectly.

although you like betty less when she tells you that you’re only 3cm dilated. out of 10. matt swears your expression could curdle milk in that moment and he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“you’ve got to remember that each birth is different, so this could take a long time or a short time.” betty reassures you as she props the pillows up behind you. “you can help the labour pass by moving around. we can bring in a yoga ball if you’d like?”

matt answers for you anyways. “absolutely.”

ᡣ𐭩 betty comes in throughout the day to check in on you; she brings you the yoga ball at 8am when you finally dilate one centimetre, helping you lower down onto the contraption, with matt by your side the second a sliver of pain crosses your face.

he rubs those soft circles into your back, and you rest your head on his torso when you bounce up and down. which obviously makes matt laugh, a mindless comment about how this is a familiar sight passing his lips, causing you to glare in turn, claiming that he’s making your contractions worse. that shuts him up.

ᡣ𐭩 at 10am, you’re 6cm dilated, the yoga ball long abandoned in the corner of the room; you now find yourself on all fours on the hospital bed, rocking back and forth slowly. in your head it’s helping with the pain, but the real soother is matt’s constant presence next to you, the simple sound of his breathes calming you.

he’s already made the respective phone calls to his parents and brothers, nick audibly crying from joy over the phone whilst chris whooped and cheered.

“I’M GOING TO HAVE A NIECE BY THE END OF THE DAY!”

“would you calm the fuck down?” matt had hissed. “we’re in a hospital right now.”

“i wish they could see my death glare.” you had piped up, easing your rocking to look over at matt. he offers you an apologetic glance, hushing a see you later to the boys on the phone before hanging up.

you don’t even let matt apologise, babbling out words before your next contraction hits you. “can you call my mom?”

he doesn’t even hesitate. and that’s why you love him.

ᡣ𐭩 the next hour flies by, a centimetre passing every 20 minutes, marking you at 9cm dilated by 11am and crying from how badly it hurts.

the midwives have moved you back to a flat position, your legs now in stirrups to give them easier access for checkups. matt is crouched down by your side, pushing your hair out of your face as you blubber in agony.

“i don’t think i can do this, matt.”

“are you kidding me?” matt squeezes your hand, his expression soft as he moves forward to peck your forehead. “you are the strongest, prettiest, most powerful girl i know. i love you and this baby, and i know you can do this.”

the tears from that point onwards are mixed with joy, comforted by matt’s presence beside you.

ᡣ𐭩 at 11:30am, you’re ready to have your baby girl. biologically, maybe not mentally, your chest tightening as betty tells you with a soft smile that you’re now ready to start the process of pushing. but on the other hand, you’ve gone through at least 20 years worth of pain in the space of 5 hours and want nothing more than to get this baby out of you. so you reluctantly agree.

with matt’s hand clutched in yours, you lean forwards into each push, ungodly screams leaving your mouth in an attempt to cancel out the pain gripping you.

“good work, keep going!” betty spurs you on, her scrubs confined by an apron as she waits in anticipation. “the head’s almost there, a few more pushes!”

you exhale, turning to matt who gives you an encouraging nod despite his pale complexion, the boy about three minutes away from fainting. which almost pushes you on, now desperate to get your daughter out into the world before her dad passes out. you sit up on your elbows once more, vision blurred as you start the final stretch.

the head is out before you know it, and with one more weak push, the rest of your daughter is out into the world, sobs spilling out of your mouth as betty brings her up to nestle by you.

her lungs are full, both your cries mixed together in the thick atmosphere of the hospital room, matt’s own tears hidden as he leans over to observe his baby, shaky fingers reaching out to caress her skin.

he moves back to press another kiss to your forehead. “i told you you could do it.”

ᡣ𐭩 october 22nd, at 11:33am, your daughter arrives into the world, and yours and matt’s lives are about to be changed in the best ways possible.

taglist. . .

( @aelinslegend, @mattslolita, @emely9274, @conspiracy-ash, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot ) is open!

[avocado-writing]

Hello! Could I request BG3 origin companions + Halsin and Rolan reacting to you asking them to help you work out/get fit? I've just started my fitness journey (for health reasons) and motivating myself can be really hard sometimes ;-;

good luck on your fitness journey, anon! i lost a load of weight over lockdown so i know that it can be difficult but i promise you it's possible!

Astarion

he' will literally complain the whole time but will do it anyway.

he doesn't work out with you, but he will sit to the side as you exercise and shout 'encouragements' at you.

"oh that weightlifting looks like it's absolutely awful, keep it up!" or he sees you eating a protein bowl and he's like "good on you for eating that but I'm glad I only need to survive off blood"

but still let you know he's proud of you and is, overall, supportive and sweet.

Gale

I am not a 'gale has abs' truther. sorry larian he has a str 8 I'm not buying it.

still, he will really really do his best to help be your workout partner.

if he spots you with weightlifting he has to do it with a mage hand too, or my boy is not strong enough to make sure you don't hurt yourself lol

he will get so knackered trying to keep up with you but he'll do it! he wants to be a good exercise partner!

is the best for looking up dietary stuff & researching into best exercises for the parts of your body you want to focus on.

maybe he does have abs by the time of you get into a good routine...

Wyll

Wyll is the only str8 companion I buy having abs. he's a swordsman and keeps himself lean to be good in a fight.

uses his swordmanship knowledge as a fitness regime - the two of you spar every day for long periods, it's a great workout!

helps you cool down after too, shows you the best way to help ease the sting of lactic acid.

he will sit down with you and make an exercise plan for each day. if he's doing this with you you're going the whole way, not half-arsing it.

exhausting but a great workout partner!

Karlach

very excited. jumps into training with you way too fast and hard. you are exhausted after the first couple of days and go to bed aching from it.

when she realises she cuts down on what she's asking you to do and tries to build up your strength and endurance on a curve rather than all at once.

she loves getting up early and going for a jog, just the two of you.

great at weight lifting. you're able to lift far more than you could every dream of after a couple of months.

she flexes at you and you flex back, then break into laughter. she loves having someone to do this with!

Shadowheart

especially when she's still a sharran, she is very much a 'feel the burn' sort of exercise partner.

your body hurts? good. keep going. that's how you know it's working. shar wants you to feel the pain.

lots of yoga and meditation, too. helps you restore balance to yourself after a tough session.

you go to bed sore every night but she just uses heals on you the next morning before you get going again.

it works but god, it is rough.

Lae'zel

"hmm. very well, i have seen how enviously you look at my body. i will train you to have my strength."

like karlach, she throws you in to the deep end, because that is how githyanki do it. unlike karlach she does not let up.

she is brutal but you see results quickly. another one of the companions who likes sparring. will make you fight her again and again until she can see proof your muscles are developing.

one day she gives you a compliment about how well you're doing and you're glowing for the rest of the day.

Halsin

for sure uses his wildshape to help you work out, turning into bigger and bigger animals and getting you to carry them as you run.

very supportive! constantly giving you a stream of praise about how well you are doing.

suggests good plants to supply you with extra vitamins, makes sure you are drinking water and staying hydrated.

being so old he probably has his own workout routine which he adapts for you. is aware of how much you can do but also helps you increase your endurance - he is the best at planning what you're doing that day.

Rolan

will. not. shut. up. about. how. he. hates. this.

"i don't want to do this >:(" "then don't." "no wait--"

groans and whines as he jogs next to you. eventually uses a floating disk to hover next to you as you run a circuit.

when you point out he's just giving up, that incites him, and he becomes a halfway decent workout buddy - he says it's just to spite you, but you think it may be because he enjoys spending time with you...

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Inspired by the latest Reductive Audio:

Lil useless facts about my fav boys/listeners. No hate if I didn’t include your fave, I was making my list off memory and am just now realizing I missed like… three entirely series worth of people.

Vincent

He prefers silver jewelry over gold, but doesn’t care if styles are meant for men or women. He likes what he likes and will wear it. He’s a particular fan of dainty necklaces and women’s wrist watches, but likes men’s rings better.

Sam

He smoked when he was human. Lucky Stripes, since they’re cheap. It was a bad habit he picked up when he was eight or so to cope with his home life. He lost the ability to be chemically addicted to nicotine when he was turned, but he still itches for a cigarette when he’s particularly stressed.

Alexis

She’s very jealous of Will’s attention. She gets twitchy when he’s paying attention to anybody else for too long. This results in spikes of her reckless and bad behavior. It started when Vincent was turned, then when he took in Porter, then when she turned Sam. The most recent was after the Inversion.

William

He cannot paint or draw to save his life. He’s followed five or six Bob Ross paintings, but they never turn out right. He can draw stick figures, but that’s about it. His penmanship is beautiful, though.

Porter

Will made him testify against his maker since Porter’s treatment was particularly brutal amongst Felix’s progeny. Porter didn’t want to, but he recounted every moment of Felix’s torture while being stared down by the man himself in front of the whole council. It was so damming that Felix invoked him to stop. That’s the moment that Porter still has nightmares about.

Lovely

Lovely is incredibly anxious around their human friends. They’re scared that they’ll lose control and hurt someone, even though they’re very well fed and haven’t shown any lack of control in the past. This results in a few months after the inversion that Freelancer thought they were dead, since they showed up on the casualty list.

Treasure

Their older brother is a humanborn freelancer. He’s an enforcer for the Department. They think that fits him well, since he was always sort of a bully growing up. Treasure themself is an investigative journalist who writes for an empowered newspaper. They were trying to get a table at the Monarchal Summit even before they met Porter, but that didn’t pan out.

Freddy

He played french horn in high school. He was pretty good, and was drum major in marching band his senior year. He threw up before every game because he was so nervous.

Bright Eyes

Singer/song writer. Y’all ever listened to the Mountain Goats??? That’s their shit. Slow moving acoustic guitar, songs about the most disturbing and distressing emotions humans are capable of surviving recorded on cassette. Singing at dead coffee shop open mics in the wee hours of the morning. Their voice is raspy and rough, but the texture just draws you into their even timber and perfect pitch. They’re a minor celebrity in Dahlia’s sad boy live music scene.

David

His hips and back hurt So Much all of the time. He figures out that it’s because he’s incredibly strong but not flexible in the slightest. An imbalance in those two factors can lead to a lot of pain. He starts doing yoga after the Inversion when it got really bad and it’s helped a ton. Plus, Angel does it with him, and he likes watching them bend into all of those poses in their tiny, skin tight shorts.

Asher

He keeps track of how much David weighs and makes sure he can comfortably lift and carry that much weight at the drop of a hat. At the end of every work out, he deadlifts David’s weight to make sure he can do it when already spent. He should have been carrying David after the Inversion, but he didn’t have the strength to do it even when not fucked up. He won’t let that happen again.

Milo

He needs reading glasses but refuses to wear them. He tried contacts but he can’t stand to put anything in his eye. So he just squints and struggles through. His phone’s text is blown up like a grandpa’s. David is so bothered that Milo won’t just… get glasses. He keeps passive aggressively offering to add Milo to their vision insurance plan.

Christian

He had a little crush on Asher in middle school that translated to teasing the shit out of him. Which, Asher being Asher, put him off and hurt his feelings. He’s well moved on but sometimes, when the sun catches Ash just right or he smiles that stupid, toothy smile, Christian mourns his own stupidity.

Arden

Desperately protective of Christian, especially after the Inversion. The first time Ash makes a light-hearted joke about Christian’s limp, Arden put his ass on the ground, despite Christian laughing at it.

Gabe

He drove a white Chevy Cameo with a red interior for most of his life. It was lovingly maintained, and since it’s such a rare model, he did all of the maintenance himself. After the crash, the truck was totaled. David still spent a few years trying to put it back together. He called it quits when he was working on the interior and found dried blood under the leather of the seats.

Angel

They have a small stuffed lamb that they’ve had since they were a baby. It’s beaten up, falling apart, and no longer the stark white it started out as. Lambie is kept in their bottom bedside drawer. They only pull him out when they can’t sleep. They were worried David would think it was weird, but he actually finds this more endearing than he can put into words.

Babe

They didn’t start talking until they were three. Their parents thought that they were nonverbal, and had started teaching them ASL as an alternative. Then one day at the breakfast table, they opened their mouth and started spouting full sentences. They taught Asher ASL and the two of them use it when they want a private moment in public/when Ash is overstimulated. (Side note; David also knows ASL, he took courses in high school. Very useful, he loves it. He does not love it when watching them flirt nastily in front of him.)

Sweetheart

They’ve had anxiety since they were a very young child, and it’s always been an internally-sourced thing rather than externally motivated. They recall the first time they ever got in trouble at school (first grade, for pushing a boy who had been tugging on their hair all through recess). They remember the first time they got a B (fifth grade, on a math test they studied for for hours). Their parents had high expectations, but Sweetheart was having panic attacks from the age of three. Definitely something ~chemical~ going on there.

Darlin

They feel pack bonds incredibly strongly. Their body reacts physically when someone in the pack is threatened or hurt, without them even having to think. They shiver when Sam calls them ‘mate.’ When David says something in his lovingly dubbed ‘alpha voice,’ they can’t help but listen. They knew Gabe was dead before they got the call. They thought Ash was dead during the Inversion because they felt David’s dread through the bond so strongly.

Avior

He’s unnerved by human’s tactile nature. Being in a body is strange for him, and he prefers Aria to Elegy (at least before meeting Starlight), so touch is an extreme sensation for him. Humans touch so much. He’s not opposed to it when it’s someone he knows, but handshakes are the bane of his existence.

Starlight

Halloween is their favorite holiday. They start decorating for it in August. They plan elaborate, complex costumes and parties. They desperately want to move into a house so that they can set up scary decorations and shit in their yard and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Avid lover of the Spirit Halloween animatronics. They go to Halloween Horror Nights every year.

Camelopardalis

He’s trained himself to use the human terms for things (ex: terra or earth instead of elegy) since some in the Department don’t like it when daemons use their terms. It means that he gets weird looks from other daemons when he talks to them. It’s an alienating feeling for sure.

Vega

He’s never tried human food. He never saw the appeal. What he doesn’t know is that he would absolutely Love dark chocolate if he tried it. He likely will never know.

Warden

Avid reader of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comics. Just the comics, though. They don’t have an apartment in Elegy, but they do have a small storage unit where they keep their comics. They coalesced a few years before the comics starting their run, and for some reason, they just fell in love. Vega thinks this is silly and that they should be embarrassed, but they refuse to be.

Hush

He loves Popeye’s fried chicken sandwiches. Doc fed him one once and it blew his fucking mind. He won’t make them with magic, either, he insists that they don’t taste the same. Doc has started just getting gift cards for him to keep so he can get one whenever and doesn’t have to wait for them to give him money. He’s ravenous for those things.

Doc

They’re actually a warder, not a healer. Hush’s presence has encouraged them to refresh their healing knowledge, however. Even if he himself is difficult to hurt, he sort of invites chaos.

Morgan

He uses his foresight to see what the owner of his favorite little bodega down the street is going to have for breakfast every morning. It’s his little morning ritual and practice for his magic. He feels weird all day if he doesn’t do it.

Seer listener

Their sight is more potent and more clear than Morgan’s. They can give stark details, see full landscapes, and turn 360 deg in their vision and see the whole space. They also can hear what’s happening consistently, something that goes in and out for Morgan. He figures that they’re just more powerful than he is, something that makes them just the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Damien

Gets incredibly stressed on election days, whether for local, state, or national elections. He forces everyone he knows to vote, volunteers to shuttle people without cars, and has at times volunteered to be a poll worker. But elections make him anxious. He cares so much about the results. Huxley has recently instated a post 9pm ban on watching the news on election nights so that Dames will actually sleep and not stay up all night stressing.

Huxley

Does not eat beef. Not for religious reasons, but because of the impact of beef consumption on the environment. He’s about one step away from a full vegetarian, he just likes chicken and is concerned for his protein and vitamin intake. This is difficult for Damien, who loves nothing quite so much as a rare steak.

Lasko

He was forced to take piano lessons as a child. He hated it, but took them up to the point he left home. He’s still very good, and did get peer pressured into showing off at a random guitar center once while out with the D.A.M.N. crew. He nearly died of embarrassment.

Gavin

He has a collection of very pretty rosaries that he uses as jewelry. He is not religious, and if asked, cannot describe what a Catholic is to you. He likes to wear them around his neck, dipping over his body since his shirts always cut down to his navel. It makes people gasp and blush, which is his favorite effect to have on somebody. His fav one has beads made of mother of pearl and a little, golden crucifix on the end.

Freelancer

They love cheap Chinese buffets. They claim that, the lower the health rating, the better the taste. Their desire for krab rangoons is strong enough to pull them from the comfort of their home at 2 in the morning if the fancy strikes. Damien in particular is horrified by this, and keeps offering to cook them some actual Chinese food.

Dear (Lasko’s listener)

An all star volleyball player in high school and college. They were a setter, and took their team to nationals all four years of high school. They are on the starting line up all through college. When it gets brought up in their trip that Damien plays casually, they said they did too. And then absolutely creamed him.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE FIVE : PEEPING TOM !

Starring… YAMATO 📸

SET SCRIPT :

“Helloooooooooooooo! So im thinking voyeur yamato corrupting an afab reader would go really hard.”

MATURE WARNING(S) : fingering, roommates to more, afab!reader, modern au, corruption kink, dom!yama, cunnilings (he eats you clean 🐱), voyeurism, underwear stealing, slight size kink, praise (he’s obsessed w you), overly wordy author.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my favorite writing cohort @gingersp1ce547 <3 I hope it was worth the wait.

Trying to find a place to live these past few weeks was stressing you out to no end. Every place you visited had some sort of mold infestation or made you pay insane utility fees that you know you couldn’t keep up with. That is, unless you wanted three jobs. That’s when you met him, Yamato. Supposedly he’s some rich nepo baby who split the rent at a price with you that was perfect.

You couldn’t understand why people wouldn’t wanna take the deal until he explained not everyone’s comfortable living with a man or understanding his gender identity. Fine, so be it, you both would make great roommates. That’s what you told yourself.

The two bedroom modest apartment stationed your rooms right next to each other with a living room and kitchen down the hall. Regular apartment things like a leaky tub, paper thin walls, and a light that never seems to stop flickering in and out were staples of your new cozy home.

Then there was him, a giant and boisterous guy who filled your dingy shared space with laughter and high energy. It was common to find him dancing around or working out if he wasn’t busy. You couldn’t deny there was a level of boyish charm to him that you found endearing. He made you feel safe, something about his larger than life presence caused you to feel at home with him. Almost needed. A mutual bond and understanding between you both as time went on.

You could trust him, Yamato always asked before entering your space or borrowing your belongings. He liked that you relinquished so much of yourself to him. His adorable little roommate that struts around the apartment always in a hurry to do something.

You were too tense, at least that’s what he thinks. He’s always wanted to find some way to relax you, pulling you into his hold while you both practice yoga in the living room. “You’re pretty good at this y/n, ya sure you haven’t done this before?”

He gets up to help ease your hamstring, he’s so much bigger than you are. Not that you’re paying attention though, lost in the bliss of easing that aching pain you’ve had all week.

Yamatos mind can’t stop wandering to indecent places when he sees that his entire hand almost covers the length of your torso. The contortions of your face as your muscles begin to relax. Fuck, he wants to feel you throb and whine like that on his thick fing—

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Just as quickly as his eyes glazed over, his impure desires were back to normal; big cheesy grin outstretched on his sweet face.

“Nothin! Just tryna stretch you out.” Your body involuntary twitches at his choice of words, pushing yourself away from his hold to have some space to breathe. Of course he didn’t miss that. “Aw, did I embarrass you? Your face is heating up.”

You throw a punch at him before he catches it in his large hand, pinning it down next to your face with light force. Yamato leans down into the crook of your neck, “careful, you could hurt someone with one of those,” he patronizingly says following the long line of spit he left up the column of your neck. You shiver and god does it make him want to take you, but he won’t, and just like that he’s off of you. Toweling himself off like nothing had happened between you both.

You’re left a hot, sweaty, sticky, and absurdly horny mess. Stomping through the hallway with more than displeased footsteps, making your way to the shower to cool off.

He’s not much better himself though, pouting as the fat of your ass jiggles when you walk away. Yamato never expected to get this attached to you. The guy can’t even go a day without rummaging through your clothes to get a good whiff of you when you’re out on business. He feels himself clenching his thighs together, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth thinking of the time(s) he stole your underwear and gorged himself on the scent of you. Fingers playing with the entrance of his cunt thinking of how you’d scold him for being a pervert. It gets him so hot.

On his way to come apologize to you that night with promises of your favorite snacks with a corny movie to follow, he stops dead in his tracks hearing the whine creep from under your door. The sound of squelching hung in the air as you whimpered. Were you touching yourself?

Yamato shook his head of long white hair side to side in disbelief, collecting himself as he took a few steps back from the doorway. As good and pure his intentions with you were; there’s always that grotesque feeling within him, the one that wants to listen to you moan and writhe as you pleasure yourself so close to him. He presses his ear against the door as you heave out cry after cry for more.

He felt his own slick collecting in his briefs as his breath hitched during a particularly pathetic plea of yours, heart rate skyrocketing with each passing moment. He felt his morality crumble altogether when you let out a meek, “Ya—Yama please.”

So this is what you think about when you’re alone? Yamatos mind was racing, he couldn’t stop his hands from finding the doorknob, nor stop his feet from walking through the door that separated him from you.

Your back is arched, legs spread as your fingers deliriously curl within your warm walls. The sight forever imprinted in his mind, you’re perfect. The same urge from earlier compels his hands to find his nipples as he watches you, each roll sending electricity shooting through him. He sees your eyes crinkle in frustration while trying to get yourself off. “Ha- Yama I need more,” you say as your thighs clench around your wrist.

But he continues only to watch, wanting to savor every little plea that spills past your lips. How long will it be till you notice him? Beg him to help get you off? He can hear the blood rushing in his ears, rubbing his clit in tune with the fluidity of your wrist. Yamato never anticipated just how hot it was to watch someone like this, so vulnerable as the endorphins consume you; so much so that it blinds you of his presence in the room with you.

Your eyes flick open when you feel movement around the room, and there he is basked in the halo of your ambient lighting. More of an incubus than anything else, his eyes burn with desire as you cower under your sheets. “Wha- why are you watching me?” Although it was a question, it comes out rather declarative.

First he has to stop himself from drooling, your nipples still hard as they poke out from your thin white sheets. Of course the first thing he says is optimistic and arrogant. “Don’t beg for my help then,” he says while making the bed dip with his added weight.

“I did not beg—” he still looms closer, “what are you doing?” You pull the sheets taught as he ghosts his hands over the plush of your thighs.

“What does it look like? I’m helping you out since you asked for me.” It’s in the way the way he says it, self assured that he’s all you’ll need. Ultimately, your body can’t deny what it wants. Your arousal pooling between your legs in self defeat and embarrassment.

Yamato allows his palm to sit snug against the sheet that separates him from your warmth, digging the flat of his hand against your clit. “I can feel how wet you are through the sheet, you needed me this bad?” Your words die in your throat as you look at him dumbfounded, taking advantage of your disoriented state he strips the sheet off your body.

Your mouth is left gaping, he wastes no time taking as he wants. Licking and nipping the skin of your neck with sharp canines. The pad of his finger teases your entrance before it eases in with the help of your arousal. He smothers you in his lust, stroking that spot within you that always seemed out of reach.

It’s not soon that you’re mewling for another of his lithe digits to be knuckle deep inside you. “Patience sweetness, it’s my job to take care of you.” He’s so reassuring, sending a surge of warmth throughout your body that makes you melt like putty in his pretty hands. Sliding his ring finger inside next to his middle, he scissors you wide open.

“So wet from thinking about me, you hear that baby?” Listening to his voice centers you, drawing heed to the squelching noise of your throbbing cunt. Your legs lay flat apart as he pounds your pussy, bruising the entrance with speed alone.

You’re so close he can feel it, your inside pulsing and gripping his fingers like you don’t want them out of you. That’s when he rips them out, leaving you clenching on nothing. “Do you want to feel really good?” He asks while licking his fingers like a mutt in heat, enamored by the taste and scent of you.

He’s stripped you to the point you’d do anything for him. So, obediently you nod and mumble out a yes. “When you feel good, don’t hold back on me.” Yamato drags his thumb down your folds till he finds your clit, lightly circling the pad of his finger on top of it. He leaves feather like kisses on the insides of your thighs, sucking the skin as he gets closer to your heat.

His own cunt throbs hearing your airy sighs and breathy moans, licking your entrance to collect his due. “You taste even better than you smell,” he says against your lower lips, sliding his long tongue past the tight ring of muscle.

It feels like fucking heaven, his thumb rhythmically rolling your bud as his tongue devours your insides. All you can do is allow your pleasure to wreak havoc against your vocal cords as you lose yourself to his touch. “Bet you could never make yourself feel this good, huh?” It’s condescending but it’s pussy clenching, and you best be sure he felt it against his wet tongue.

“Only you Yama, please don’t stop,” you’d do anything to forever feel like this. So small within his warm hands that bring you a burning feeling in your lower gut. He tongues your clit, applying heavy pressure while opting to curl two fingers against your g-spot. You can see the sheen of spit and slick against his face while he makes out with your pussy. It’s downright depraved how he consumes you with his hands and mouth alone.

He finally gets what he wants, watching you clench and throb around his fingers in a hot sweat while your orgasm licks at you. Yamato thrums the pads against your insides flicking his tongue against your swollen bud. “Give it to me baby, let me know how good you feel,” and that’s all it took. His soothing voice coaxing you to your climax. It hit you like a bag of bricks, making you twitch against him as you ride it out.

A string of curses leave you as the pressure in your cunt dissipates. You cling onto his wrist to stop the overstimulation consuming you, but he can still feel the way your walls hammer against him. “So pretty when you cum.” It’s small but it’s enough to bring you back, reaching out for him to take care of you like he always does. This time with the added intimacy.

“You should let me watch you more often,” he says softly while holding you against his chest. The fact you allowed him to see you like this was astounding, therefore he would hold you for as long as you needed. Aftercare was no problem to him.

“You are such a damn vouyer,” you joke as you snuggle deeper into his chest. Yamato laughs a little at the joke, but he couldn’t help feeling it may just have been true.

Enjoy? Reblog & click here 2 see more!

[storm-angel989]

If ur still takeing request what if val wife or girlfriend was feeling insecure with her little bit of baby fat after haveing there baby cuz she's worried he would be attracted to her anymore cuz all of his skinny pretty employees he works with he can tell something is wrong but she won't tell him but he won't take no forget answer till she tells him and when she does he reassure her that no matter what she looks like or anything he will always love her and think she's beautiful and to make sure she believes him she shows her in his own way 😏😏 nfsw if u know what I mean 18+ if would like to 😁

Hi there!

So sorry for the delay! I love this idea, but I think I took it in a much different direction- just kind of went with the writing vibes! Hope you like it <3

~Mandy

I stared at myself in the full length mirror. Two months. I had my daughter eight weeks ago to the day. It had been one month since I began working out, four weeks that I, as quietly and secretly as I could, tried to turn my body back into its pre-baby figure. The body that my husband, Valentino, had fallen in love with. 

As much as I loved my daughter, I hated what pregnancy had done to my body. My chest, once swollen, seemed to be flatter and hang lower now. And with Valentino starting to work longer hours and later nights, I came to the conclusion that this was my fault. My body, my figure was driving him away. So although technically I wasn’t cleared to lift anything heavier than our daughter, I couldn’t let that deter me. Not only did I now need to be a mother, but I had a duty to be pretty and thin- lest I lose my husband to one of his drop dead gorgeous models.

I pinched at the roll of fat that now sat stubbornly below my belly button and cursed to myself. No wonder he was working late again tonight. No wonder he wouldn’t fuck me, or take me up on my offer to blow him. I wouldn’t want me either. With a final glare of disgust towards my body, I tugged on a shirt and pulled my greasy hair up into a ponytail. Valentino wouldn’t be home for about an hour- just enough time to squeeze in another workout while the baby was sleeping. 

I rolled out my yoga mat and tried to ignore the protest in my muscles. I knew better than to try to stream a video- Vox would catch on quickly and I’d get caught. And the gym in Velvette’s studio wasn’t an option- not only could I not leave the baby, but I’d risk being seen. So self guidance and training was my only option, basic moves until I was officially cleared to push my body as hard as it could go. 

Sit ups to start. 

 One…two…three….twenty…twenty one….fifty…

I ignored the pain that coursed throughout my body. Pretty and thin. That was my focus. My sole focus. Keep Valentino. Make him love me, earn his…

A cold leg against my back pulled me from my movement. Hands that pushed my shoulder to the mat. I looked up into Valentino’s burning eyes. 

Shit. So much for effortlessly pretty. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Valentino demanded in a sharp whisper. His hands slid under my shoulders and pulled me up off the floor, to my feet and he turned me to face him. “Reader?”

Unable to help myself, I burst into tears. 

“Shit. Hey, don’t cry. Fuck,” he said quickly as guided me to the bed. “I’m here. What’s going on?” 

The sound of our baby screaming from the crib pulled our attention away from each other. I felt a pang. Our voices had woken her up. Her cries triggered mine and my chest ached at the sound. 

“No, no,” Valentino said quickly as he looked at the mess that appeared on my shirt. 

 “You’re not okay, muñeca. I’m going to have Vox take the baby, okay? Just sit here.”

“She needs to be fed,” I sobbed as I tried to cover the growing stains with my hands. “I, I can take her.” 

I watched something shift in Valentino’s expression. He shook his head quickly. 

“Nope, he can make her a bottle. There is lots of milk in the freezer. Stay here,” he said gently as he put his arm around me. 

I heard the door open and Vox’s voice speak softly to her. 

“Wait, where is Vox taking her?” I asked in a panicked voice. “She needs to eat and I…” The sound of her cries leaving the room and the silence it left behind sent me into a new wave of frantic worry. 

“Shush bebita. Vox is going to watch her. He’s just taking her to the nursery, sit in the rocking chair and give her a bottle.” He said gently. His hands touched the hem of my shirt. “Let me see your tummy. I want to make sure nothing is bruised or…” 

I recoiled from his touch. No. I couldn’t let him see the physical mess I was. I rubbed my eyes and tried to swallow back the creeping sadness. 

“I’m fine Val,” I snapped as I pushed his hand away from my shirt. “Really, I’m fine.” 

He frowned and sat down next to me. Instead of fighting, he put his arm around my shoulder. “You don’t look fine, and you’re not acting like yourself. You’re pale, cariño. I just want to make sure you don’t..”

“No.” 

His voice turned from gentle to sharp. “Muñeca, I’m not asking.” 

With the quickness of one hand, I felt my shirt tear in half, leaving me exposed under his gaze. I closed my eyes, as I tried to protect myself from the disgust I was sure would play across his face. I felt his hand on my stomach and waited for the criticism. 

“Honey, does that hurt?” His voice was soft. “Please tell me, I need to know if I need to take you to the hospital or not.” 

I felt my eyes open. The feeling of uncontrollable rage and defensiveness rushed through me, washing away the worry and sadness. 

“For what? Plastic surgery? Fix this mess of. A body?” I snapped as I pushed him away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry my body isn’t what you want!” 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the anger vanished and turned to sopping wet tears in a matter of seconds. He pulled me to him and gently stroked my hair as I sobbed into his chest. 

“Baby, what are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and concern in his voice. “Plastic surgery? Where the fuck did you get that idea?” His grip tightened, “give me a name. I’ll kill them.” 

I half laughed, half sobbed as I continued to cry. What was he talking about? Why would he want to kill someone who would only want me to look better for him? Sheer exhaustion rushed through my body with each choking gasp. 

“Hey, hey I’m here. It’s okay. Let it out,” he said in the same voice I heard him use around our daughter. “Talk to me, mi amore. Please. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” 

As though a dam had broken, all at once it came spilling out. The workouts. The diet- balancing cutting carbs with trying to produce enough milk to feed our baby. The feelings of insecurity and sadness. The anger I felt towards my body, and my worry that I was no longer good enough for him, no longer pretty enough- no longer worthy of his love and affection. 

“I just feel ugly. And fat. And like nothing I do is good enough I can’t feed a baby and be on a diet, I can’t be thinner and my boobs are…” 

“Your boobs are perfect,” he interrupted as he kissed me gently. “Honey, you pushed our daughter out of your body. You’ve spent the last nine months growing her and the past two feeding her. When was the last time you slept? Or had a decent meal?” His hand pushed against my forehead and he tucked back a stray strand of hair. 

“Val, you’re surrounded by beautiful women who don’t have the scars- women who can fuck you. And here I am, and I offer you my body and you turn me down!” I yelled through the hiccuping sobs. 

Fury rushed across his features. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. 

“You listen to me and you listen to me good bebita. You had a baby. You physically can’t have sex yet. The doctor said it herself. Not only will doing do cause you immense pain, but it could cause a whole host of issues. To protect you, I’m not fucking you. Believe me if I could have I would have fucked you the night you came home from the hospital.” His eyes searched my expression, “ do you think I would cheat on you? Honestly and truly? Because that’s what it sounds like.”

Slowly, I shook my head no. A wave of exhaustion rushed through me and I let the full weight of my head fall to his chest. 

“Then why do you think I would leave you? You had my child- our child- and you are an amazing mom. I’m sorry I haven’t told you enough lately how much I love you and how beautiful you are.” He sighed and kissed me gently as he pulled out his phone. “That’s it. I’m taking the next two weeks off. Work be damned.”

“Val I…”

“No. We need to spend time together as a family. This isn’t up for discussion.” He said firmly as he stood up. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet before lifting me up into his arms. 

“Where are we going?” I asked as he carried me across the room. 

“To shower while Vox has the baby. And then I’m holding you until you fall asleep.” He replied shortly as he set me in the rocking chair we kept next to the bassinet in our room. “Pump now while I start the water, and I’ll take care of the next feeding.” 

I flushed in a mixture of self consciousness and embarrassment “Val, I… And you don’t want to shower with me, I’m..”

“Sincerely in need of a little love, yes.” He replied firmly. “Now relax and let me take care of you. Let me be the husband and the father.” 

“Val…” I bit my lip as I felt the tears start to leak out again. “Val I don’t deserve you. Why do you want me?” 

“Honey, I can’t say it enough. I love you. Only you. No one else in this world will have my heart the way you do.” He kissed the top of my head. “I got you honey- for once let me take care of you.” 

Ten minutes later he had his arms wrapped around me as he held me under a stream of hot water. I closed my eyes and laid my head against him. I heard the sound of a bottle opening and felt Valentino’s hands slowly work their way through my hair. After a few seconds, he pulled me out from under the water.

“Let the shampoo sit bebé muñeca, you’ll feel so much better and more like yourself when we’re done.” He said gently. 

I felt his hands run down my body and to my surprise he knelt down and pressed his lips against my belly. 

“You need to understand how much I love you,” he said softly. “Your tummy grew our little girl. That changes a person both inside and out. I don’t expect you to have the same body you had before our little one because it went through something drastic. The only thing I need from you is to love yourself. That includes this new body, and your health and to love yourself enough to ask for help when you need it. Ask for help from me, from Vox, from Velvette hell- call Lucifer for all I care. I know I’ve been busy but I assumed you were talking to them. It’s my fault I should have checked in more, myself. I’m sorry. You’re not in this alone, and you never will be.”

“Val I…”

“Shussh.” His lips pressed against my belly again and he slowly stood back up. 

“Relax against me. I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms around me and carefully washed the shampoo from my hair. “I’ll condition the ends and wrap your hair up and then we’ll take a bath. Let your body soak in the warm water for a bit.”

“I don’t want to take a bath. I’m still bleeding.” I said tiredly as I laid my head on his chest. I could feel the exhaustion creeping, threatening to wash over me at any moment. 

“It’s been eight weeks,” he said sharply. 

“And it can go up to twelve,” I answered as I closed my eyes against him.

“We can still take…”

“No, Val. I don’t want to.” 

“Alright,” he relented. “Then a heating pad? How can I take care of you?” 

His softness broke me and again, I broke down into sobbing tears. This time he said nothing, and rocked me gently against him. 

“How can I take care of a baby when I’m not even me?” I sobbed. “I feel sick and awful and…just wrong! Like I’m a terrible mother!”  

“I think sweetheart you need a little TLC, a ton of sleep and some good food.” Valentino said softly. “Let me take care of you. Please. Before we get out of the shower, what else can I do for you? Body wash? Shave?”

I laid my head against him. “If I have the time, I need to shave. Literally everything. Just give me a moment and I….”

He grabbed my chin and again our eyes met. 

“Did you forget that I shaved your legs when you couldn’t see them anymore? Did you forget that I held your hair when your morning sickness hit? Did you forget that I laid our newborn baby on your chest seconds after she came out of you, despite the fear of you bleeding out in your hospital bed?” His voice was hard, “You are mine. My wife. The only other being in this worth I love with every inch of my soul. The other women in my life? They are merchandise to me. And don’t you ever forget that. Understood?” 

I gave the smallest of nod and he released me. Carefully, he washed the remaining conditioner from my hair and sat me down on the tile bench in the middle of our walk in shower. 

“I’m sorry, Val…”

“Stop apologizing,” he replied as he ran the shaving cream over my legs. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I am the one who should be sorry for leaving you alone so damn much. And I am, sorry that it. It won’t happen again.” 

I felt the sharpness of the razor slide up my legs. I closed my eyes as I tried to shake away the fear that wrapped through me. 

“Why do I feel so bad, Val? I feel like I’m going insane.”

“When was the last time you put food in your stomach? Or had a full, uninterrupted night's sleep?” He asked as he slathered my other leg in shaving cream. “And be honest.” 

“Last night, kind of. I had a bowl of oatmeal. As for sleep..” 

I heard the metal of the razor hit the floor and his head shot up. “What?” His fingers reached up and gently squeezed my nipple. 

“Ow! Val!” I shouted. I tried to yank away as a small stream of milk shot out. ”Fuck, that hurt!” 

“I am shocked that you’re still productive,” he said sharply as he picked the razor back up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to yourself? No food? No sleep? No wonder you feel so sick.”

“I’m trying to pretty,” I whimpered. 

“No. You’re going to end up putting yourself in the hospital,” he snapped. “Lack of sleep alone is enough to make you feel this awful. Add in the exercise which you shouldn’t be doing and the lack of food, and quite honestly I’m not entirely sure how you’re still standing, let alone carrying out a conversation.” 

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. 

“Stop apologizing,” he replied firmly as he helped me back to my feet. “It isn’t your fault.” 

Carefully, he and I stood back under the stream of water, rinsing away the rest of the soap. As soon as we were finished, he wrapped me in a towel and gently combed through my hair. I crawled into bed next to him and settled my head on his chest, straining to hear the beating of his heart. 

“You promise you still find me sexy? Even after all this?” I asked quietly. 

“I promise. Now forever and always. You’re my wife, my one and only, now and forever more.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now go to sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up. And then we can have a real conversation- we’re a team, sweetheart. Don’t ever forget that. I love you. I promise.”

[gilverrwrites]

Time of the Month

AN: I'm suffering, so here's some of my faves reacting to their so having a rough time of the month.

He really doesn’t “get it”. 100% thinks you’re probably over reacting, however, you’re his sweetheart and he would do anything for you, so he’ll “play along” so long as he doesn’t need you for something else.

Won’t take time out of his busy schedule for you but he will:

Text you constantly through out the day.

Thinking of you doll x Are you sleeping? x You better be sleeping cause theres no other reason not to text back. HELLO??? ???? Sorry for loosing my temper baby, I love you. Just ordered those shoes you liked x

Will bring home/order dinner. He knows what you want, don’t worry babe, you don’t have to ask.

Still try to seduce you any way possible, he doesn’t care how messy it is.

Selina does not let her period slow her down, and so she’s hopeful that she can rub some of that off on you.

Has a yoga routine specifically catered to that time of the month that she’s happy to teach you. Has a diet plan that’s full of iron heavy and unsaturated fatty foods - leafy greens, dark chocolate, the good stuff.

Of course she understands her lifestyle isn’t for everyone, and what kind of cat themed thief would she be if she didn’t have a giant heated blanket she’s happy for you to stretch out on and spend your time lounging in true luxury.

Move over, she’s getting into bed with you. She’s stolen all of Brucie Wayne’s streaming service log ins, and she’s brought 50 different snacks that will make your bloating worse, but will feel and taste good in the moment.

Get ready for a week of binge watching whatever films make you feel good, eating way too much sugar, and sleeping whenever feels right.

Did you know orgasms can help relieve period pains, migraines, and generally relieve stress?

Did you know if you ask Waylon, he will eat you out until you can’t take anymore and/or are feeling any amount of respite?

If that’s really not your thing, be willing to also do basically anything you ask of him. Bring you snacks? Rub your back? Just hold you? Anything you want.

Will find the time look after you. Any excuse for some lazy time with his favourite birdie.

He runs hot, so it’s like having your own personal heat pad. Will find it endearing if you lay stomach down of his stomach, legs, whatever part so you can press his heat directly to the area that needs it.

Foodie and a snacker, so if you’re craving something, he’s got you covered, and he’ll eat it with you, no questions asked.

Knows a lot of ecologically friendly herbal remedies that are almost certain to work. Just sit back, chill out, and drink this tea.

In the very unlikely chance that those don’t work, and you’re down for it; Ivy is happy to fuck the cramps away, whatever your preferred method of orgasm may be.

The Riddler: Understands how periods work, but doesn’t care. You can’t let your body control you, or interfere with the mind. (yes he IS the worst kind of person when he’s sick.)

He does however have bunch of tips and tricks for helping overcome/cope with cramps and other symptoms.

Has a bucket load of ibuprofen handy at all times.

“Did you take the pills I gave you? Good. You know, coffee will help get that into your bloodstream faster, and might give you more energy. Since you’re making coffee, I’ll have one too, thanks, you’re the best. Well, I’m the best, but you’re good too.”

Request Info || Prompts || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

[atinylittlepain]

In a Pinch

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel keeps throwing his back out, but Ellie knows just who to go to for help.

warnings | 18+ allusions to smut, that's literally it, fluff ahead

a/n | is this entirely self-indulgent nonsense? why yes, yes it is. also, this ficlet belongs to the sweetness universe, but can totally be read on its own

.............................

This is the third time this week that Ellie has come home from her classes at the community school to find Joel sprawled on the floor with a pained look on his face. 

“Back hurting again, old man?” He huffs, glancing at her from where he’s laying on the living room floor.

“I’m just– stretching.” She snorts at that.

“Oh yeah? What’s this pose called? I’ve given up-dog?” She bursts out in laughter, impressed by her own joke. Their pretty teacher-slash-neighbor-lady had been offering yoga classes during their free elective period in school, and Ellie had gone only because Dina wanted to do it, but now she’s happy for the material it provided for her to razz Joel with. He, however, does not look equally amused at her wordplay.

“Alright, smartass. Will you just help me up? Goddamn.” He shuffles into a seated position with a hard groan and Ellie begrudgingly offers him her hand. Right as he starts to pull himself up though, he lets out a yelp of pain. She didn’t know Joel could even yelp, quickly getting worried by the way he flops back down onto his back, his face twisted up in what could only be agony.

“Jesus– fuck!” That can’t be good.

“What? What’s wrong?” She hovers over him, getting more and more worried by the way he’s not moving a muscle.

“It’s my fucking back– I– something popped.” Because she isn’t a geriatric menace like Joel, Ellie knows nothing about what that could possibly mean, just that it’s probably not good that he literally cannot sit up right now.

“Uh, ok– should I– should I get someone?” Joel tries his best to shake his head no, more of a jerky side to side than anything else.

“No. Just gotta– wait it out.” She scoffs.

“On the fucking floor? What if I just get Tommy? He could at least get you onto the couch or something.” The shaky jerk of his head gets a little bigger, but Ellie’s already headed toward the door. Because she’s her, she turns on her heel just before slipping out.

“Be right back, old man. Don’t you go anywhere!” She just couldn’t help herself.

However, as she steps out onto their front porch, it dawns on her that Tommy is on patrol today. Shit. She racks her brain for who else she could ask for help, coming up with a big fat nobody. She’s distracted from her dilemma by the sound of faint humming, whipping her head around to see their neighbor - pretty teacher-slash-neighbor-lady whom Joel has a huge crush on - walking up the steps to her own porch and unlocking her door before slipping inside. Ellie grins, a clear solution suddenly laid right before her. Yoga is good for bad backs, right?

She’s already bounding across their yard toward pretty-teacher-lady’s house. It would take a fool to not notice that something has been going on between Joel and her, ever since that dance they both just happened to disappear from at the exact same time. As far as Ellie’s concerned, asking her to come help out the old man and his messed up back is a win-win, a two for one really. In one fell swoop, Ellie will get Joel some help and embarrass the living shit out of him in front of the woman he’s got the hots for. Now that’s a prospect she could never pass up.

…

“Ellie, what the hell–”

“Shut it, old man! She can help you with your messed up back.” Joel hasn’t felt this mortified in a long time, a hot flush creeping up his cheeks as his eyes dart between his smartass of a kid and their neighbor, the same neighbor he’s been fooling around with for the last few months. Probably not for much longer, now that she knows I throw my back out if I even sneeze funny. 

“I’m fine– really. Just– letting things loosen up a bit.” Ellie snorts at that, turning to their neighbor with a smug look.

“He couldn’t even get up off the floor–”

“Ellie.” If there was a way for someone to die of embarrassment, he reckons he’d already be six feet under by now. Their neighbor, however, seems unphased by the whole thing, putting a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and offering her a smile.

“Ellie, I think Dina was looking for you at the stables, why don’t you–” Before she can even finish, Ellie is already whipping out the door. Joel lets out a huff, and then winces at the pain it sends shooting through his back. 

“I don’t need any help.” She quirks a brow at him, kneeling down by his head.

“You sure about that?” He hums a yes. She doesn’t seem convinced.

“If you don’t need any help, can you sit up for me?” Fucking hell. 

“I mean– I can. S’just, I’m good like this for now.” She tilts her head at him, her crooked smile letting Joel know she doesn’t buy that for one second.

“Ok, I’ll let you stay like that. But can you tell me what happened at least?” He turns his head just slightly to look at her, letting out a deep sigh.

“It’s my back.” She chuckles.

“I can see that. But what happened to have you laid out like this?” He presses his lips into a thin line, furrowing his brow, not wanting to admit to her what happened. She brings a hand to his shoulder.

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“Joel, there’s no need for that. Besides, I’ve already had you on your back more than a few times before, haven’t I?” She can barely get the last words out, dissolving into a giggle. Joel, however, does not think it’s very funny.

“Now you’re just being cruel.” She sighs, squeezing his shoulder as she dips down to give him a peck.

“I’m kidding, don’t pout. Seriously, I might be able to help you if you just tell me what happened. Please?” He huffs, already melting at the soft look she’s giving him.

“It happened at the stables– earlier today. Bent over to pick up a saddle and it just– something just tensed up. It’s happened before– usually just gotta lay down and it’ll work itself out– but then the kid came home and she tried to help me up and–” “Let me guess, something popped?” His jaw goes slack at her knowing smile and she rather comfortingly rubs her palm up his arm.

“Can you tell me what kind of pain you’re in right now?” 

“It’s tight in my low back– but the pain is sorta– spreading? Down into my legs.” He’s surprised when she looks at him like she knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“Sounds like sciatica.”

“Come again?” She smiles.

“We all have something called a sciatic nerve. It runs from your low back down both of your legs. It tends to get pinched pretty easily from stuff like heavy lifting and the pain this causes is called sciatica.” He squints at her.

“Why exactly do you know this?” She sighs, already setting into action, shifting down to his feet to tug off his boots.

“Well, I was a yoga teacher in another life. Had a lot of men just like you come into the studio with the same complaint.” A new detail he hadn’t known about her. He nods, peering down at her where she’s still working at his shoes.

“Do you know how to fix it then?” She hums, shifting back up onto her knees and shuffling to his waist.

“Sort of. I can move you through some stretches right now to at least get you off the floor. But the real fix for something like this is gonna be strengthening everything around it. If you keep up with the exercises I’ll show you, this shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” Joel can’t help but grumble at that. He’s never had to do “exercises” in his life. His work always kept him fit, and after that, scraping by in the apocalypse had worked just as well, though he supposes things have gotten a bit more lax in Jackson. He doesn’t have much time to ponder this when she’s abruptly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

“Woah, hey– not that I, uh, mind exactly. But what’re you doing?” She grins at him, her hands stilling at his waistband.

“Easy, Miller. I’m just gonna take off your jeans. Need you to have your full range of motion for these stretches and tight denim isn’t gonna fly.” He’s trying real hard to not be weird about it, but the sight of his pretty neighbor whom he happens to have seen naked on multiple occasions now gently shimmying his jeans down his legs is making his heart slam against his ribcage. 

When she gets his pants all the way off, leaving him in his boxers and t-shirt, she stands up with her hands on her hips, surveying the situation. Joel can’t help but grumble.

“Feel like a fucking invalid.” She snorts at that, kneeling back down alongside his waist.

“Alright, enough of the pity party. I’m gonna guide you through some stretches, you tell me if anything hurts too much, ok?” He nods, trying to ignore the shiver that runs up his spine when she rests her hand on his hip.

“Which leg are you feeling pain in?” He tells her it’s his left side, the one closest to her, and she nods. She slides her hand down from his hip to the hinge of his knee, and he can’t help wondering if this is the treatment she gave all her clients before. He sure hopes not. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna bend this knee in toward your chest and see if that doesn’t release any of the gripping. If that feels ok, we can take it a bit deeper, alright?” He’s not really sure what any of it means, a little too focused on the way she’s reassuringly stroking her thumb along the crook of his knee, but he nods. 

With a little assistance from him, she starts to bend his knee, tightness immediately pulling in his back as she tucks his leg in toward his chest. Well, sort of. His leg only bends to a bit over ninety degrees before it just stops. Her eyes dart to his, a furrow of concern clear in her expression.

“Does that hurt too much?” He huffs, shrugging a little.

“Not really– s’just tight. I don’t think it’s gonna bend anymore. Feels– I don’t know– rusty.” She sighs, her hand that’s not supporting his knee rubbing his chest in soothing circles.

“Ok, my sweet tin can man. Let’s try something else.” As she maneuvers him into what she calls a “figure four stretch,” he can’t help but study her face. He’s never seen her so focused, so determined, so at ease, and it’s clear to him that all this was a big part of her life before.

“So, this is what you did for a living? Helped people out with their messed-up backs?” She breathes out a laugh at that, keeping one hand on his shin as she looks up at him.

“This was part of it, yeah. I went to college for human physiology– suppose that’s why they have me teaching science at the school now. It just made sense to me, y’know? Muscles and ligaments and bones, how they move. Yoga just happened to be a passion that I turned into a job– I loved it.” He nods at her words, enjoying the distraction of learning a little more about her far more than the tight pulling sensation of the stretch she has him in. 

Then, all of a sudden, another pop resounds through his back. But this one doesn’t feel like a tightening up, it feels like a huge release. 

“Sweet jesus.” Her head whips up to look at him, hand slackening where it had been holding firm pressure to his leg. 

“You alright?”

“I’m pretty sure something just let up– felt another pop– but a good one, I think.” She nods, sitting back and resting her hands in her lap as he tentatively unwinds his legs from the stretch she had him in, planting his feet flat on the ground with his knees bent. 

“Well?” He sits up with a little groan, holding onto his shins to stay up straight.

“Feels a lot better. Still tight, but the pain has eased up for sure.” She practically beams at that and suddenly Joel’s heart is hammering in his ribcage again.

“Now that’s what I like to hear, Miller.” She helps him up, and this time, he actually makes it off the floor, quick to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into him.

“Thank you for your help, darlin. Gonna have to repay you somehow.” She laughs into the downright salacious kiss he steals from her, lightly pressing on his chest to get him to let up.

“Oh, I’m not done with you. Still got exercises to learn.” He groans at that, jostling her in his hold and burying his face in her neck, but she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to get him to look at her. 

“And I’m gonna be checking in everyday to make sure you’re doing them. Can’t have you throwing your back out anymore, not on my watch.” He can’t help but smile at that, trying to kiss away the stern expression she’s giving him.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.” He reckons if the instructor is as pretty as she is, he won’t mind doing a few exercises every now and again.