#i normally tag with soft and safe but uh

[cyncerity]

Just finished your new storeshifter au and, if I may add to the angst train, how long did it take for Sapnap to eat in the same place as his partners?

I'd assume he would have some trauma surrounding eating/chewing/swallowing near people after everything that happened with Bad and I would bet that sudden change in behavior would be extremely worrying to Karl and Quackity

ANON YOURE A GENIUS

yes absolutely, it takes a long while for Sapnap to get used to eating around people again after the Bad incident. Hell, he’d probably have a hard time eating. I think he’d play it off to Karl and Quackity as just wanting to eat by himself but then he’d go off and just…not eat.

also i can imagine this happening in the middle period between the fiancés leaving after the Bad incident and them finding the store, so they’re just traversing through the dangerous woods. Yknow, probably the least favorable place to be starving yourself given that you need energy to walk and fight off threats.

(tw for a little talk of fatal vore and digestion here, nothing canon just intrusive thoughts)

I can imagine that Sapnap has a hard time with swallowing anything for a while. He won’t drink anything warm cause it reminds him of his dad’s body heat when he swallowed him. He won’t chew anything because all of a sudden he’s back to the forest in that fight with that bird and it’s his dad that’s getting crunched in his teeth. God forbid he try eating any sort of animal; the first time he tried to eat meat after the incident it wasn’t fully cooked and the blood in his mouth sent him into the worst panic attack of his life.

Worse yet, when he does have a full stomach, the sounds of him digesting his food make him want to sob. Countless times after the incident he had tried to force himself to eat. After all, he was the only one of his trio who could fight, he had to get over himself and stay strong for them. But every time, he’d dream of a scenario where he hadn’t been lucid enough to let his dad out, where he had died within him, and they only sounds he’d woken up to were the gurgles of his own stomach and he couldn’t handle that.

He survives solely on water for as long as a living being can. Karl and Quackity notice him getting weaker, but he pushes off every attempt they make to comfort him. He doesn’t deserve to be comforted. He’s a monster.

Eventually he passes out and Quackity and Karl give him a very stern talking to, and he’s no longer allowed to wander off while they eat cause they want to make sure he’s eating too.

He has a breakdown when they make soup one night because now that he’s with them, instead of it being just his dad, it’s his boyfriends, too. He can almost feel them struggling and screaming, and the warm, full feeling in his stomach when he swallows only makes it worse. He won’t tell them why he can’t eat. They can’t figure it out, but eventually they find things he’ll eat by ruling out what he won’t. Nothing crunchy, nothing warm, no meat. Karl and Quackity begin to stock up on any berries they find, honey when they can come across it, and whatever roots they can easily grind into a smoothie-like mixture just to keep something in his stomach.

It takes a while for him to get over himself, and he probably still can’t properly eat some things, and he regresses a ton when he eats one of his fiancés for the first time (still trying to figure out how that happens but i’ll write it eventually), but after a while of Q and Karl being ok with it and getting more comfortable, he starts to feel better about himself.

[lostfracturess]

words you couldn't hear — satoru gojo

satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but someday—maybe someday soon—he'll tell you for real.

"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."

Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."

"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."

He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.

"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"

"It's a valid concern."

"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhere—"

You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing — well, mostly immune.

You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.

"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."

Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."

"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."

"What should I say?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."

His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.

"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"

Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.

You pause, catching the way he's looking at you — like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.

He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"

"The store closes in two hours."

"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

What you don't know — what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones — were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.

"I love you."

Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.

But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.

Maybe one day soon.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[aventurineswife]

Two Hands, One Home

Summary: After an abyss attack destroys your home, Kinich, who values independence and self-reliance, offers you a place to stay. Though he presents it as purely practical, his actions reveal a quiet, genuine care. Over time, you settle into a peaceful routine together, finding comfort in his reserved kindness and the small gestures of care he provides, learning that beneath his cold exterior, Kinich has his own way of showing affection.

Tags: @m1nella, Kinich x Reader, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Reserved Kinich, Found Family, Quiet Moments, Pragmatic Romance, Subtle Affection, Soft Kinich.

Warnings: Implied Loss Due To An Abyss Attack, Mild Angst.

The aftermath of the abyss attack was devastating. Your home, once a place of safety and comfort, had been reduced to rubble, its walls shattered and roof torn asunder. The shock of losing everything you had worked for in an instant left you feeling hollow, adrift in a world that had suddenly turned cold and uncertain.

But amid the chaos, there was an unexpected offer. Kinich, with his usual stoic expression, had come to you with a quiet proposal. “You can stay at my place while your house is being repaired.” he said, his tone as dry as ever, yet beneath it was something softer, something genuine.

You were hesitant at first—Kinich was a private person, and you knew his past hadn’t been easy. Still, the practicality of the offer, and the simple fact that you needed somewhere safe to stay, won out. You nodded, grateful but unsure of what to expect.

The day you moved into Kinich’s house, you couldn’t help but be surprised by how… normal it was. The inside was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of the mansions you’d seen in the past. But it had a warmth to it, an unspoken coziness. The walls were lined with handmade furniture, small knick-knacks that spoke of a life lived with care and attention, even if it wasn’t a life of luxury.

Kinich showed you around, his gestures efficient but not unkind. “This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing to a simple stove and a small table. “If you need anything, just ask. And, uh… don’t go near the shed out back. I keep some of my… tools there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tools?”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it was hard to say. “I’ve got a lot of things to fix. You’ll see.”

You followed him to the living room, where a modest fireplace crackled. The scent of wood and something faintly herbal hung in the air, and Kinich, ever the practical one, was already setting up a small cot by the wall for you.

“Don’t make a fuss about it,” he said as he smoothed out the blanket. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.”

You couldn’t help but feel touched. For someone who valued independence so much, Kinich was surprisingly attentive in his own way. You sat down on the cot, still a bit unsure of what to do next.

Kinich cleared his throat and turned toward the kitchen. “I’m making dinner. It’ll be ready in about an hour. You can relax until then.”

As he worked, you took a moment to look around the room. It wasn’t much, but it was his—his space, his home. The absence of his usual sharpness, the subtle kindness of his gestures, made you feel a little less alone. Even if he didn’t show it often, Kinich had a way of making you feel like you mattered.

Dinner was simple, a warm stew that smelled of fresh herbs and hearty vegetables. Kinich placed a bowl in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of something more than just duty.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, quietly breaking the silence. “Let me help with something.”

Kinich paused for a moment, his hand still on the pot as he glanced over at you. “It’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not doing it for you. Just… don’t let the food go to waste.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Kinich’s words were as blunt as always, but the care in his actions was something you couldn’t overlook. As you sat together at the table, eating in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, you had found a place here—a place where, for the time being, you could heal

Over the next few days, life at Kinich’s house settled into a quiet routine. You’d help with the small tasks around the house—cleaning up, organizing things—and in return, Kinich would share bits and pieces of his life with you, small snippets of knowledge or skills that he’d learned over the years.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found Kinich in the garden, tending to some plants in the fading light. You hadn’t realized how peaceful the house could feel when it was just the two of you, sharing this simple life together.

“Need help?” you asked, walking over to him.

Kinich glanced up, his face softening slightly. “If you want. I could always use another pair of hands around here.”

You knelt beside him, taking a small gardening trowel and gently digging into the soil. There was a strange comfort in working alongside him, the silence between you both not awkward but companionable, as if you were partners in something greater than just survival.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, looking up at him. “Tending to all this, I mean. I would’ve thought you’d want to leave it all behind.”

Kinich paused, the question catching him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly, almost hesitant, before he answered. “Because it’s mine. It’s the one thing in this world I can rely on. People… they come and go. But this? It’s real. It stays.”

You smiled at his answer, understanding him a little more than you had before. Kinich didn’t offer grand gestures or flowery words, but in the little things—like the way he cared for his home, or the way he offered you a place to stay when you needed it most—you saw his quiet strength.

And, despite his belief in self-sufficiency, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, for just a moment, you could be the one thing he’d allow himself to rely on, too.

That night, as you both sat by the fire, Kinich spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” he said, not looking directly at you but still offering the words with sincerity.

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Kinich. I… I really appreciate it.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “It’s not charity. It’s just… practical.”

But the warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

[danveration]

Could you do a Cooper Howard x reader angst? Something with the reader getting injured or dying and/ or becoming a ghoul?

You and your stories are amazing btw❤️!!!

Thank you!

Parings: Cooper Howard x reader

Summary: You get shot and Cooper comes to your aid.

Word count: 1344

Warnings: Guns, blood, shooting, reader getting shot in the thigh, Cooper being a softy

A/N: sorry if you meant post-nuclear bomb. (if you wanted cooper howard like.. normal human & stuff) ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS ISN'T VERY ANGSTY 😭😭 FFS. I hope you like it either way :))

It was a hectic situation. There were at least ten people pointing guns directly at you from all around. This was not how you expected your day to go. You didn’t even do anything remotely wrong. Just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was pretty common around here.

You were by yourself right now, which was another downfall. You didn’t have the capabilities yet to kill a bunch of people on your own. Maybe if you sweet talked them..? You doubt that would work. If only Cooper were here. He would have them all dead in a blink of an eye. Especially because they were threatening you. He seemed to have a soft spot for you for whatever reason. You felt the same way towards him. Even though people would look at you like you’re insane, you don’t care. You can see something in him that nobody else can. He always had a bit of a protective nature towards you the moment you two met. You thought he would’ve killed you, but he just laughed at how scared you looked and ensured that he doesn’t kill without a motive. And in his words “won’t dare harm a pretty thing like you.”

He is currently god knows where. You were tagging along with him but he went to go get more vials. He said he knows a spot where he can snag a couple. That was about two hours ago. It would be great if he just miraculously appeared right now.

“L-listen. I don’t want any trouble, okay? I’m just passing through.” You say, trying to sound brave but the whimper in your voice made itself known.

“Yeah, passing through OUR territory.” One of the men said, with a raspy tone.

“I didn’t know! I’ll go. Right now.” You say quickly, starting to move forward.

“Uh-uh!” One of them yelled.

You hear all their guns go off safely and you stop dead in your tracks. The panic and fear you feel makes your skin develop goosebumps.

“We can’t let you go, can we? What kind of example would we be settin’ if we did?” One of them spoke.

“Oh, just walk right into our territory, It’s all good!! It wouldn't be our territory if we did that, would it?” One of them say in a mocking tone.

“P-please. I just-“ You begin to say.

“Now what on hells creation is goin’ on here?” You hear no other than Cooper’s voice in the other direction.

You subconsciously release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

All the people snap their heads to the ghouls voice. Some of them look scared, but some of them look angry that their fun got spoiled.

“Well? Gonna keep gawking or is somebody going to tell me what the fucks goin’ on here?” He says.

“W-well we caught this one roaming on our territory.” One of the people spoke up.

“And?” Cooper questions them, as if daring them to say what they were going to do to you.

They’re all silent. Except for one. He must be new here or something because he speaks up in an angry tone, “and were gonna kill them.” He says, pointing the gun at you. He looks around at all his other gang members, and how they’re not pointing the gun at you anymore.

He raised a brow, “what’s the big idea? Why’s nobody else-“

BANG

Cooper shoots the man in the arm, not letting him finish his sentence.

Everything went slow from there. You see Cooper giving the man cold eyes, and then from your vision, you see the man look down at his arm, then you see him, with his other hand, grab his gun and quickly shoot you in your thigh before Cooper sends another bullet straight through his head, leaving him instantly falling to the ground.

You hiss out in pain and look down, seeing red liquid gush out and stain your pants.

Cooper whips his head towards you.

“Fuckin’-“ He mumbles as he rushes over, getting on his knees in front of you.

Everyone around immediately makes a quick exit, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the other guy.

Cooper would’ve killed them all for that, if it wasn’t for him not wanting to take his eyes or attention off of you. He feels scared, worried, mad, and mostly desperate. Desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to go back in time and never leave you alone in the first place. He would laugh at himself for feeling these feelings any other time, just not now. Now he has to focus all his attention on you.

“Is it bad?” You mumble out to him, not wanting to fully look at it.

Cooper thankfully notices how it isn’t in a vital place. The bullet went right through, so he doesn’t have to worry about digging it out or it causing complications.

“Well you got shot, sweetheart. It’s bad but it isn’t deadly. You’ll be alright.” He says, trying to ease the worry off of you.

He’s got to get you to a safe spot so he can properly treat the wound. Luckily he has lots of experience with these kinds of situations.

He stands up and leans down, putting his arm behind your knees, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.

Your eyes go wide and you gasp in shock, but don’t complain. You don’t think you can walk anyhow.

Your cheeks flush and you feel a swell in your heart from his actions. He walks in silence, his brain wracking at how he shouldn’t have left you alone, and how he swears to make sure this won’t happen again. You’re in his arms, hurting, but for some reason you swear it hurts a little less because he’s close to you.

“This won’t never happen again, I swear it. You better be more cautious around these parts though, darlin’. Especially with me not around. People don’t give no mercy.” He says to you.

A little while later, you’re sitting on a mattress in an abandoned building. Your pants are pulled down a bit on one side, so he has access to the wounded leg. Cooper carefully cleaning and wrapping up your wound with a concentrated face. You stare at him and how his eyes look, how his forehead is frowned down in focus, and how his hands are handling you carefully, as if they aren’t used on a daily basis for killing and violence.

“You’re lucky it’s in this spot. A little to the left or right, and you might’ve not been able to use this leg again. Would’ve had to get you those robot leg attachments.” He says, laughing at the end of his sentence.

“You mean the ones that practically rip your leg to shreds? No thanks.” You say, laughing.

You look at him softly as he’s smiling gently, while finishing up wrapping your leg.

“Now would you look at that? All better.” He says, gesturing to your skillfully wrapped leg.

“Thank you, Coop.” You say. “I’m really lucky you came in time.”

“Well, I’d argue I was a tad bit late, but of course, darlin’. I’m glad I got there before things could’ve gotten worse.” He says back to you, adjusting his hat on his head.

He cares about you. It realized that right when he heard that gun shot go in your direction. His heart sank to his stomach immediately, thinking the worse. He’s going to make sure to keep a tight leash on you from now on out. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s able to be there if anything happens.

“Thank you, Cooper.” You say softly out of nowhere, looking at him with a bit of blush on your cheeks.

He nods his head in your direction. “You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Now why don’t you be a doll and rest up. I might’ve wrapped it all neat n’ all, but you’ll still need to let it heal. We can take a couple hours break here."

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter eight | wc: 5.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah go to couples therapy. Noah and Lia spend a cozy evening in her studio. Reading time: 22mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: therapy, talks of mental health, ptsd, anxiety, insecurities, self-doubt, mentions of parents' neglect, abandonment, mentions of medication and lia's overdose, mentions of lia's abusive relationship with mitch, mentions of alcohol intake, talks of sex, implied sexual scenarios that include oral sex (female receiving) and protected sex. The rest is pure fluff, noah and lia being totally madly in love with each other and being supportive of each other's works. There's blindfolding going on in this chapter but it's not in a sexual scenario. If I'm missing sth, let me know. The therapy scene took me ages to write.

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

“Have you found any hobby; any activity that helps soothe your anxiety?”

Lia processed Dr. Reynolds question, thinking back over the past few days: rejoining her long-missed yoga classes, meeting Emery for coffee on Thursday, catching up with the BO crew to discuss tour logistics and merch-related stuff, drawing, packing for Japan…

After a brief pause, Lia replied, 

“Sex.”

As soon as the word left her lips, her face flushed. Sitting next to her in the other armchair, Noah remained still, his eyes wide in surprise at her response, though he didn't look directly at her. His cheeks were tinged pink as well.

Dr. Reynolds immediately noticed their reactions, especially the way Noah quickly avoided eye contact.

“Okay, there’s no reason to feel embarrassed,” she reassured them, raising her hands slightly from her desk, which separated her from the young couple. “Sex is something totally normal and natural, and it’s great for our mental health and well-being.” She waited a few seconds until she saw Noah’s shoulders relax and Lia let out a sigh. “Tell me, Lia, how do you feel when you’re physically intimate with Noah?”

Lia raised an eyebrow while still curled up in the armchair.  

“Mentally, emotionally,” Dr. Reynolds clarified, a genuine soft smile on her lips.

“Umm,” Lia’s mind wandered to their first time—both drunk and needy for each other. She remembered it had felt good, but she didn’t want to dwell on that night, since it was followed by the worst weeks of her life. Instead, she thought about the last few days, about every time Noah had covered her with his body or laid her down on the sofa, his face sinking between her legs. She had never put into words how it felt, aside from when Noah asked if she liked what he was doing to her, or the previous night, when she’d been sitting on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, and he had asked if that posture felt good. She had breathlessly muttered in his ear that it did, “it feels so good, Noah.”

“It feels good,” she started. 

Better than that. But she didn’t feel comfortable enough to say to her therapist the same she’d told Emery two days ago when they’d met. “It feels like everything’s okay. I feel loved, and I feel safe.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded in understanding. Her dark brown eyes shifted to Noah, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“What about you, Noah?”

Noah cleared his throat.

“Uh, I—”

Fuck. Did he really have to talk about it to that woman? It was hard enough to put into words what he felt, let alone say it out loud to a stranger. Still, he wasn’t there just to sit comfortably in that chair, listening to Dr. Reynolds and Lia’s difficult answers. He was there to communicate. Lia had made the effort, and his heart had fluttered when he heard her say how loved and safe he made her feel. The least he could do was the same.  

He replayed images from the day before in his mind: her skin against his, the way she wrapped around him, how warm she felt, the look in her eyes when he flipped them both so he could be on top, thrusting deep inside her.

“It feels like….” He swallowed, avoiding direct eye contact with the therapist. “I’ve always felt that something was missing, and… After things got better between us, I… I felt complete.” He wasn’t talking only about sex. “I feel utterly happy when I’m with her, not just for myself but for her, too. I know I was… I know I am making her happy.” 

Well, that sounded cheesy as fuck, Noah.

Dr. Reynolds gave a gentle nod.

“I think it’s clear that you and Lia have a deep connection. Would you say it’s been like this since you first met?”

Grateful for the shift in topic, he answered quickly. 

“Absolutely,” he said, with certainty. He’d been fighting everyone from the very beginning to show the world that no one knew Lia like he did. Therefore, no one could take care of her the way he could. 

He expected Lia to echo his response, but her mind was somewhere else.  

“I feel so guilty,” she began, directing her words to Dr. Reynolds. “I’ve loved him since I was a kid. All those times I scared off his girlfriends, I was being selfish and a coward. Then, Mitch came and…” she sniffed but held back tears. “I’ve… carried this fear with me my whole life. A fear of never being enough, of not deserving love. I know I always had Noah, but even when I did, I was convinced that it was all some cruel joke, and that as soon as I finally had him, life would rip him away. I couldn’t bear that thought. So, I buried my feelings, blocked them out; I forced myself to believe it wasn’t real, that I wasn’t in love with him. I told myself for months that it was just infatuation, that he had bigger things to focus on and worry about. The band has always meant everything to him and…”

“That’s not—” Noah started, but Dr. Reynolds raised a gentle hand to quiet him. 

“I kept pushing him away, again and again. I know I hurt him. I know he loves me, but the guilt is suffocating. I’ve put him through so much.”

Dr. Reynolds listened intently, her eyes calm and steady, letting the silence linger after Lia’s words. It was a weighty silence, one that felt like a deep exhale after too many years of holding it all in. Lia’s hands trembled slightly in her lap.

 “That weight has always been there,” she continued through clenched teeth. “I’ve always sabotaged things before they could go wrong, merely because I was convinced they would go wrong.”

Noah shifted beside her. He wanted to reach out, to hold her hand, but the heaviness of the moment kept him still. He hated hearing her talk like that, as if she was the villain in their story. He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her she didn’t need to feel guilty, but something in Dr. Reynolds’ gaze made him hold back once again.

“Lia, what you’re describing is a fear many people experience when they’ve been hurt before or when they deeply value something. We’ve talked about this, remember? It’s called self-preservation. You and Noah have been friends since you were kids. You’ve been attached to him most of your life. He’s been your constant, so it makes sense you’d fear losing him. That fear made you protect yourself, even when there wasn’t a real threat.”

Lia swallowed, her eyes glassy as she fought back tears. 

“But I pushed him away. I hurt him when I should have trusted him.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded. 

“I understand. But what’s important now is recognizing that your feelings of guilt are part of that same fear. You’re punishing yourself for something that, at the time, you thought was the right thing to do. You didn’t want to lose him, and pushing him away was your way of safeguarding your heart.”

Noah’s jaw clenched. He had been so frustrated with Lia over the years, but sitting here now, listening to her talk about her fear of losing him… he realized he understood that fear all too well. 

He wished she could see what he had always known, that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Lia turned to him, her voice breaking.

“I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”

He leaned towards her, her shoulder almost brushing hers. 

“You were never a burden and you know that,” Noah said quietly. “I’ve always wanted you around. You make me happy. You always have.”

Dr. Reynolds leaned back in her chair, giving them a moment to let that sink in.  

“Lia,” she said after a short while”, I want you to delve deeper into that fear. Do you think it's why you've always stopped yourself from doing certain things? Like telling Noah you loved him?"

Lia hesitated, her breath catching as memories flashed through her mind.

“Yes,” she exhaled. “Everything has been because of fear. Deep down, I always knew I loved him, but I was terrified of what that meant. If I admitted to myself that I was in love with him, with my best friend, everything would change. And… if I let myself love him fully, the risk of losing him would become real. I couldn’t handle that.” She made a pause to take a deep breath. “I fough hard to convince myself it was just infatuation—that it wasn’t as deep as it felt; that I just wanted to be the center of his attention because he was so perfect. But I was lying. It was love. I knew it the whole time, and that scared me more than anything.”

Noah felt his heart tighten in his chest. She had been carrying that fear the whole time, while he had been waiting—always waiting—for her to believe he wasn’t going anywhere. 

He reached out, his hand resting gently on hers.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “But I’ve spent so many years convincing myself that loving you was dangerous—that as soon as I let myself have you, I’d lose you.”

Dr. Reynolds kept on jotting down notes on her notepad before speaking again. 

“Lia, that’s a common reaction when someone is deeply afraid of loss. You never had a paternal figure, you mother didn’t provide you with the care and attention you deserved. Then, the people closest to you—Noah’s grandparents— also moved away. You mentioned this not long ago, right? When Noah’s grandfather passed away, his grandmother decided to return to Japan, and you felt that as a loss, too, as a kind of abandonment.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Lia said, her posture stiffening, discomfort creeping in as if she didn’t like the truth of it. “But I couldn’t stop myself from feeling it that way. Then I only had Noah... and I guess my attachment to him grew even more.”

“Of course. It makes sense, Lia. You’ve loved Noah since you were merely a kid—first as a friend, then as something more—so much that you feared the very thing you wanted most: being with him. But now that you’ve faced that fear, it’s important to remember that love isn’t something you need to protect yourself from.”

Dr. Reynolds let the words settle between them before leaning in, her gaze moving between Noah and Lia.

“Noah, I think you’ve been carrying your own set of feelings for a long time, too. While Lia was dealing with her fears, you were facing a different struggle, trying to support her. Isn’t that right?”

Noah rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the familiar knot of tension there. He didn’t love talking about himself—he never did—but he knew today wasn’t the time to hold back.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’ve always felt like I had to prove myself, even with her. I’ve always been scared of not being enough for her. Like, maybe one day she’d realize I’m not this perfect guy she thinks I am. And, I guess that fear made me hold back sometimes, too.”

 “You both have been trying to protect each other in different ways—Lia by pushing you away, and Noah by trying to be perfect. But what’s clear is that the connection you two have, the love between you, has never really faltered. Even when you were afraid or apart, you didn’t let go.”

Lia wiped a tear from her cheek, processing the Dr.’s words. She turned to look at Noah, who was watching her with an intensity that made her heart ache. Without a word, she reached for his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I never meant to make you feel like you had to prove yourself.”

Noah shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize. We’re together now. We’ll figure this out—together.”

Dr. Reynolds leaned back, her gaze warm and understanding. 

“Both of you have been carrying fears and doubts for a long time, but you’re both ready to face them—together. Your connection, this love, is strong enough to handle the uncertainty. You’ve already proven that.”

Lia wiped at her eyes, nodding. The guilt hadn’t disappeared entirely, but it had loosened its grip. She wasn’t alone in this, and that was enough for now.

Dr. Reynolds shifted slightly in her chair, her expression softening as she turned her attention to Lia. 

“Lia, I want to acknowledge the progress you’ve made. You’ve been through an incredibly tough journey, not just emotionally but physically as well. The abuse you suffered in your previous relationship, the trauma from your childhood—growing up without a father and with a neglectful mother—those are heavy burdens. And on top of that, you’ve struggled with your relationship to medication.”

Lia glanced down, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. That was going to be a long day. She was sure the moment she got home, she would collapse into bed, terribly exhausted. The weight of everything she’d gone through still felt fresh at times, and talking about it was like watching it play on a TV, or worse—reviving it. 

“The meds did help at first,” she explained, “but then I got lost in them. I was dependent on them, and I started taking more than what I was prescribed.” Her voice quieted, as if confessing. Dr. Reynolds already knew, but she had told Lia a few times how important it was for her to verbalize it until it didn’t trigger her anymore. “I was using them to escape.”

 “That overdose was a wake-up call,” Dr. Reynolds said. Noah winced at the mention of it. “But what matters is that you’ve taken steps toward healing since then. You’ve made a brave choice in deciding to taper off the medication, and even though it’s not easy, it’s clear that you’re managing much better now, especially with the positive changes in your life.”

Lia’s gaze flickered to Noah, who gave her a reassuring smile. 

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “The withdrawal was terrible at first, and I didn’t think I could handle it. But things have been different… better since Noah and I started working things out. Being with him, in a healthy way, makes me feel like I don’t need the meds to be okay.”

Dr. Reynolds smiled warmly, her eyes filled with encouragement. 

“You’re taking control of your life, Lia. You’re moving away from dependency, both on the medication and on the emotional crutches you once used to cope with all the pain. And that’s an incredible achievement. You’re learning to rely on healthier mechanisms—your relationship with Noah, your art, and most importantly, yourself.”

Lia felt a lightness in her chest, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. The meds had numbed her for so long that she hadn’t trusted her own emotions or ability to cope without them. But now, without that fog, she was starting to feel everything—both the good and the bad—and it wasn’t as overwhelming as she’d feared. 

“I still have bad days, but… I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore,” she said quietly. “Noah helps, but I think I’m helping myself, too.”

Dr. Reynolds nodded, pride evident in her expression. 

“That’s exactly what I want to hear. It’s not about never feeling anxious or sad again—it’s about learning to face those feelings without needing to numb them. You’ve proven to yourself that you can. And having a supportive partner like Noah is a huge help, but ultimately, the strength you’re finding is coming from within you.”

Noah’s hand tightened around hers. She wasn’t fixed, but for the first time in years, she didn’t feel broken either. She was healing—slowly, but surely.

Dr. Reynolds closed her notebook. 

“Keep going, Lia. You’re on the right path. You’ve come a long way, and it’s clear you’re capable of even more. The fact that you’re doing this—getting off the meds, facing your fears, building a healthier relationship with Noah—it’s all a testament to your resilience. You will get better.”

Lia nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at her lips. For the first time, she believed it.

As they stood to leave, Noah slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. 

Once out of the elevator and onto the street, Lia hurried toward the car, eager to get home. But before she could, Noah grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. He cupped her face in his hands, and without a word, leaned in and kissed her deeply, ignoring the people passing by and the noise of the street around them.

When he pulled back, Lia was breathless, her wide eyes gazing up at him, a spark of something new and beautiful shining in them.

“Whatever happened—whatever will happen—I don’t care. We’ll face it together. I’m not letting you go, Lia.”

She wanted to say, I’m not letting you go, either, but the words wouldn’t come. She was too awestruck by his closeness, overwhelmed by the love she felt for him and the weight of everything that had surfaced in therapy. So, instead, she just stared at him, her heart full.

Standing on her tiptoes, she grabbed two fistfuls of his hoodie and kissed him back, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the kiss. After a few moments, Noah pulled away, looking down at her with a soft intensity.

“Lia, am I clear?”

She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He gently tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned down for another kiss, this one soft, reassuring. When he finally pulled away, he took her hand in his.

“Let’s go home. That was exhausting.”

A week later 

Every couple of minutes, Lia would push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, only for it to fall back into place again. She was sat cross-legged on the floor, her sketchbook balanced on her knee. Her pencil moved in quick strokes, pausing every so often as she bit her lip in concentration, only to resume with a renewed burst of energy. 

The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm streaks of golden light across the studio floor that reached the other end of the room, where Noah was sitting at the desk, focused on the apps open on his laptop and on Lia’s iMac. 

He’d brought over two mugs of hot chocolate earlier, one of which still steamed next to her on the floor, while his sat neglected on the desk. They had spent most of the morning out of the house—Noah had gone to the gym and then had met the boys at the studio while Lia had gone to one of her yoga sessions, then had met Emery at a nearby Starbucks. In just three days, they would be flying to Japan for the Bad Omens tour, followed by a well-deserved two-week rest at Grandma’s house, in the outskirts of Tokyo. 

Noah’s mind had started to feel mushy in the last thirty minutes. Growing distracted, he stole a glance at Lia, watching her as she worked. Her focus, the way she’d push that same strand of hair away from her face, the way her brow furrowed... Eventually, feeling his mind grow too fuzzy, he stood up, muttering something about needing to wash his face.

When he returned to the studio, Lia was in the same position, still immersed in her sketching with her back towards the door. Without saying a word, Noah walked over and sat behind her, sliding his legs around her body as he leaned in close. Tempted, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss in her hair. Then another one further below. And another one right below her ear. Lia squirmed in his arms but kept her pencil moving.

“Noah,” she mumbled, her lips curling into a half-smile, half-protest.

He didn’t answer, trailing another slow kiss down to the nape of her neck. Her shoulders tensed, then relaxed, a small laugh escaping her. 

“Stop,” she said, though the warmth in her voice betrayed her, as well as the way she titlted her neck to give him more access. 

“You’re not really convincing me,” he teased, brushing her hair aside to kiss the curve of her neck.

Lia twisted in his arms, still trying to focus on her sketchbook, but the pencil faltered as she squirmed again. She laughed, turning her head slightly to glance at him. 

“You’re such a distraction.”

“Guilty as charged,” Noah grinned, wrapping an arm around her middle and pushing her flush against him. He was practically caging her with his body. 

Instead of reaching for his own mug of hot chocolate still sitting on the desk, he lazily grabbed hers, taking a sip.

“Hey! That’s mine,” she protested.

“Yours is closer,” he replied with a shrug, taking another sip before handing it back to her. “What are you working on?” he asked, glancing over at her sketchbook.

Lia flipped through some of the pages, her pencil resting between her fingers. 

“I’ve been sketching ideas for Grandma’s garden,” she said, her voice soft with affection. “You know how much she loves that garden. Last time we were there, I planted some peonies and lilies around the trees by the entrance, remember? I’m thinking of adding more this time.”

Noah leaned closer, peering over her shoulder as she traced her fingers along a delicate sketch of flowers winding around a tree.

“I’ve been imagining how it would look if I added some kiku or fuji seeds. Chrysanthemums and wisteria,” she explained, her eyes lighting up. “And I was thinking… maybe we could place some traditional statues around, or even build a tiny pond.”

Her voice trailed off as she flipped to another page—a rough outline of the garden, filled with plants she had already painted with soft strokes of watercolor. The colors in the drawing—deep pinks from the peonies, pale purples from the lilies—looked almost alive, like they were already blooming.

“Look,” she said, pointing to a part of the sketch where she’d blended purple hues for the wisteria draping from a branch. “I’ve been working on the colors, trying to match how they’d actually look in the garden when they bloom. I can see it in my head—how the sunlight would hit the flowers, the way the colors would change depending on the time of day.”

Noah’s expression softened as he gazed at the painted page. 

“She’s going to love that,” he said, setting his mug down. “And it sounds like a great excuse for us to check out those famous Japanese gardens you wanted to visit last time but didn’t get a chance to.”

Lia’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling as Noah added, “I could even sketch some ideas for the pond, maybe add some stones and other features if we get inspired by those places."

Lia hummed thoughtfully, inspecting her own designs.

“After the tour, we’ll have time to explore more traditional spots—temples, hidden gardens in smaller towns. We can start with the city’s chaos, then unwind in the gardens and parks. Once we’ve soaked in all that inspiration, we can start working on Grandma’s garden," Noah said.

A smile tugged at her lips as she leaned back against his broad chest, feeling the comfort of his warmth.

“I like that plan,” she admitted, smiling. “I’m excited for the shows, but I think I’m more excited about seeing Japan… with you.”

He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. 

“Me too,” he murmured. “And Grandma’s going to love whatever you do to her garden.”

They sat in a peaceful silence for a moment. The room was cozy, filled with the scent of hot chocolate, and Noah’s hand rested warmly on her stomach, his cheek brushing against hers tenderly.

Lia finally broke the silence with a mischievous smile. 

“I have an idea,” she said, untangling herself from his arms and standing up. Noah made a disappointed sound but didn’t question her, merely raising an eyebrow as he watched her disappear into the other room.

When she returned, she held something behind her back, clearly up to no good. Noah’s curiosity piqued.

“What are you planning to do with that?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice as she revealed a sleeping mask she’d likely grabbed from her half-packed suitcase.

“Blindfolded drawing challenge” she announced, playfully slapping his shoulder as she sat down in front of him.

Noah grinned, catching on quickly. 

“Hm. Not what I expected, but I’m intrigued. So, do I get to blindfold you?”

“Nah-uh,” she said, keeping the mask out of his reach with a smirk. “I’m blindfolding you. If you’re going to help me with Grandma’s garden, I need to check your drawing kills.”

“I’m an amazing artist, Lia, in case you didn’t know,” he said, puffing his chest in mock pride. 

“Let’s prove it then,” she challenged, eyes sparkling.

“I’m ready to show you the real artist in the room,” Noah replied, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a competition. 

Lia scoffed. 

“Keep your ego in check, Sebastian.”

Lia grabbed her sketchbook and flipped to a blank page.

 “Okay, mister. This is your canvas,” she said, placing it in front of him.

Noah sat up straighter, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as she stepped behind him, slipping the mask snugly over his eyes. Her hands brushed his neck, her fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. Noah’s grin widened.

“You’re not secretly trying to turn me on with this, are you?” he teased.

She leaned down, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Noah laughed. 

“Alright, alright. Just hand me the weapon of choice.”

Lia placed the pencil in his hand and sat back on her heels, watching as he hovered over the notebook with exaggerated focus. 

“Alright, Picasso, time to show me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, here we go,” he declared, setting the tip of the pencil to paper. He started drawing—if you could call it that. His lines were uneven, jagged, the kind of shaky curves you’d expect from someone who had no idea what they were doing.

Lia bit her lip, trying to stifle her laughter as she watched the absolute chaos unfold on the page.

“Are you… drawing a person?” she asked, half-choking on her giggles.

“Obviously!” Noah said with mock indignation. “Can’t you see it? It’s abstract.”

“Sure, sure. Very abstract,” she teased, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing too loudly.

He added a few more crooked lines, lifting the pencil occasionally to think before continuing. When he was finally done, he sat back triumphantly, pulling off the sleeping mask. 

“And… voilà! A masterpiece.”

Lia leaned over to inspect the mess of squiggly circles and jagged lines. It vaguely resembled a potato with stick arms and what might have been a smile—or a grimace. She couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. 

Noah looked down at it and shook his head, feigning disappointment. 

“Okay, I’ll admit, it’s not exactly what I imagined.” He pointed to one of the misshapen blobs. “That was supposed to be an eye.”

Lia wiped a tear from her eye, still giggling. 

“Yeah, I think this guy’s been through something.”

Noah sighed dramatically. 

“I need your artistic genius to fix this. Save my poor little guy.”

Lia laughed again but nodded, taking the pencil from him. 

“Not from there,” he said, opening his legs and gesturing for her to come closer. “Come here.”

She nestled between his limbs, leaning back against his chest. Noah’s arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. The warmth of his embrace made her smile as she began to work, reshaping his scribbles into something recognizable. Her pencil moved, sharpening lines, smoothing out shapes, and adding playful details until Noah’s chaotic doodle turned into a quirky little character with a goofy grin and big, wide eyes.

Noah watched her, his grin softening as he admired the way her hands worked so effortlessly. The look of focus on her face, her gentle smile as she fixed his mess—it was moments like this that made him fall in love with her even more.

When she finished, she leaned back to admire their combined effort. 

“There. Now he’s got some charm.”

“You really are a miracle worker.”

Lia glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with playful pride. 

“I know.”

He reached out and gently moved that stray lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered, brushing against her cheek as his gaze softened.

“You’re amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and full of warmth.

Lia’s breath hitched just for a second, her heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at her. 

“So are you,” she whispered, leaning in closer.

Their lips met in a soft kiss, the warmth of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. It was a simple, quiet moment—the kind that felt like the calm before everything changed. In just two days, they would be off to Japan, diving headfirst into the chaos of the tour. But right now, in the quiet of Lia’s studio, it was just the two of them, savoring the comfort and coziness of the evening. 

When they pulled apart, Lia’s fingertips grazed the skin of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that had started to grow.

Noah’s voice broke the comfortable silence.  

“Have you thought about letting others see your work?” 

Lia frowned, her fingers halting, barely brushing his chin.  

“What do you mean?”

“I know you sell your stuff online through your site, but I’m talking about something bigger. Like an exhibition, or maybe an illustrated book? I could help with that. I could write the story—like I did for the Concrete Jungle comics—and you could do the drawings.”

Lia’s shoulders slumped as she considered it, her brow creasing in hesitation.

“I don’t know if I’m qualified for that, Noah.”

“Come on.” He shook his head, not buying her self-doubt. “Your work is amazing. Okay, maybe I’m biased, but have you seen how fast our merch sells—the merch that has your art on it? And every time you put something new up on your store, it’s gone in less than forty-eight hours.” 

When he noticed the hesitation still on her face, he extended an arm in the air, as if to grasp all the piled notebooks and sketchbooks she had stored on her bookshelves and drawers. 

“People need to see all of this, Lia.”

Lia’s brown eyes flickered across the room, her eyes landing on one of the bigger sketchbooks resting against a stack of Bad Omens vinyls.

“Some of them are really dark, Noah.”

“You don’t have to show the dark stuff if you don’t want to—even though darkness is part of life,” he conceded, shrugging his shoulders. “But everything else? Lia, you’re an incredible artist. The things you draw, the ideas you come up with… They’re fascinating, to say the least, and people love seeing fascinating things, whatever it is,” he poked her cheek to get her full attention. “And there’s already a bunch of people that love your art, starting with me and our friends.”

Lia stayed quiet for a moment, her brown eyes searching his, still uncertain but intrigued.

“I already have a lot of work with Bad Omens…” she started, though her tone was more reflective than dismissive.

“Is that an excuse? Seriously? Considering your “boss” is your boyfriend?” 

That made her laugh, easing the tension. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the warmth of his body.

“Wouldn’t you like that, though? To exhibit your work? Let the world see what you’ve got tucked away in all those notebooks?” Noah’s voice was low and sincere. “You could even write something, turn it into an illustrated novel or whatever you want.”

Lia looked up at him, and for the first time, there was a glimmer of real possibility in her eyes.

“Yes. Yes, I would,” she said, her voice filled with quiet honesty.

Noah’s excitement was imminent. 

“I can help you with ideas. Maybe I can doodle something and you can improve it if you ever feel stuck or…”

Lia laughed, nudging him playfully. 

“I think you should stick to writing. I’ll handle the art,” she said, picking up the notebook they’d been using and shaking it, the potato drawing that Noah had made still on the page.

“Fair enough,” he agreed, wrapping his arms fully around her, squishing her and prompting her to drop the notebook. “But you can’t deny this was the best blindfolded potato drawing you’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll give you that,” she said with a giggle as she felt his lips and nose brush her neck. 

Lia leaned her head back onto his shoulder, and they sat there quietly in the peaceful warmth of her studio, perfectly content just being wrapped up in each other. Noah began swaying them gently, side to side, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her. Outside, the sun had dipped lower, casting a soft, warm glow through the windows, wrapping the room in a golden haze.

“You fit perfectly in my arms,” Noah whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

Lia hummed contentedly, her heart full as she nuzzled her nose against his chin, tenderly.

“Because it’s where I’m meant to be.”

Noah’s heart swelled with something sweet and heavy, like warm honey filling every corner of his chest.

“Right answer,” he teased, before lightly tickling her sides, causing her to squirm and giggle in his grasp, but with no hope of escaping. He held her close, thrilled by her laughter, by the fact that she was his, completely and utterly.

He couldn’t wait to get on that plane and head to Japan, this time with her by his side not just as his best friend, but as his girl. The thought of them wandering through the vibrant cities and tranquil gardens together filled him with an excitement he hadn’t felt before.

He nibbled playfully at her earlobe before murmuring,

“Off to Japan in two days, baby. You ready?”

We're off to Japan in the next chapter, babes!! 🥳

— prev. chapter | chapter nine

🔖 Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @thecoyotescry | @bluestdai | @lma1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

@chey-h

[20doozers]

★Sleepover★

TW: fluff, teasing, SFW, Tom being a sweetheart, nicknames, 2005/2006 Tom, gn!reader, cuddling, kissing

You and Tom had planned a sleepover, movies, candy, but most importantly you just wanted to see Tom again. You two were bestfriends, basically attached at the hip, so Tom and his band going on their first tour was awful for you since you missed him so much.

You heard the doorbell ring and you rushed downstairs, seeing Tom at the door who quickly hugged you. It felt like it had been years, when really it had only been a couple months.

“Wow, you must love me a lot to have my face on your wall.” Tom teased, poking fun at the fact that you had their band posters all over your room.

“Oh shut up.” You giggled in response, playfully hitting his arm as you sat down on your bed, rolling your eyes at him. He sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you down onto the bed with him.

It was nice to have Tom back, even if he was still a bit of an ass.

You two laid there watching a movie, your limbs tangled under the blankets as you cuddled. It was normal, platonic or romantic you couldn’t tell. But you knew he cared a lot about you.

Tom grabbed another bag of skittles from the bedside table where all of the snacks were, opening them and putting a few in his mouth.

“Tom! That’s like your third bag! Save some for me!” You snatched the bag from his hands, an amused yet playful scoff coming from Tom.

“Nuh-uh. Give them back!” He protested, reaching over to grab them back but before he could you held them out of his reach, holding them hostage from the poor boy.

“Okay! Okay! You win!” You giggled exasperatedly, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to free yourself from Tom’s hold as he had you pinned down, tickling you. When you opened your eyes again after catching your breath, Tom’s own face was just inches away, a light pink flush making its way onto both of your cheeks.

You sat there for what felt like hours, neither of you daring to move or say anything. Eventually Tom leaned in and closed the gap, his lips were soft yet chapped. It was a bit awkward, this being both of your first kisses, but you eventually got the hang of it.

You quickly broke after hearing your mom’s voice calling you and Tom down for dinner, the blush on your cheeks becoming even brighter.

“Coming!” You both shouted in unison, quickly scrambling out of bed and downstairs, trying to act like nothing happened, even though the blush on your guy’s cheeks said it all.

“Were you two at least being safe?” Your dad questioned, making both you and Tom almost choke on your guy’s food.

“Dad!” You exclaimed in embarrassment, only getting a chuckle from your parents.

AHHH!! I’m so happy with how this one turned out!! It’s a bit longer than normal since most of my fics are three or four sections but this one is six sections but I hope you guys like it! This is probably my fav fic I’ve written so far. Also forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes, I’ve been cramming in homework all night. Love you guys💕💕

Tags: @itsmealaiah @madzandmore @jkloserdazai @goreishgorinthgoreofshits

[suzukiblu]

Five headcanons from the obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU for Plot Bunny, which may or may not all make it into the actual fic itself. Headcanons are slightly leaned towards Kon’s powers because Plot Bunny was specifically interested in my headcanons for those in this AU, but also including Tim being a useless bisexual.

Kon brags constantly about the things his TTK does that are either Superman-esque abilities or that he thinks are either impressive or flashy enough to pass for impressive. He does not think to brag about things like “technically I have a 360-degree field of perception”, because he’s like “well it only works if nothing’s flying or hovering and it’s not like vision, so it’s just whatever” as opposed to being like “most things/people cannot fly or hover and it also accounts for things like people hiding behind cover, so actually it’s real fucking useful, isn’t it”. Frequently he just doesn’t think to mention little utility-specific uses of his powers at all, in fact. No, this acid isn’t touching him, he can be acidproof if he wants. No, he can’t actually choke on anything. Yeah, he can set bones and relocate dislocations on himself and others without needing an X-ray or an MRI involved. Sure, he could just stop somebody’s heart, but why would he?? 

Tim has gotten out of the habit of a lot of his hobbies in favor of Robin-ing. Robbies. He has Robbies now, not hobbies. It’s not like he never picks up a camera or a skateboard or a video game anymore, just . . . well . . . like, not never, that’s all. He’s pretty sure he touched his skateboard last week? When he . . . moved it to the other corner while he was cleaning his room . . . uh. Well. Still counts, right?? 

Kon has much better fine motor control over his TTK than he usually bothers to demonstrate in the field because he actually spends a lot of his time bored and understimulated in a lab environment, so he just fucks around with it to entertain himself. For him, it’s an extension of his sense of touch, which makes him incredibly tactile as a person. But he also thinks it might be a little weird how tactile he is compared to other people, so he is much likelier to be petting the soft silky thing with his TTK than his actual, oh, I don’t know, hands? Because people don’t even notice when it’s his TTK, obviously, but they definitely notice when he's doing it with his hands. He actually does a lot of little things with his TTK that people don’t usually pick up on, because it’s just things like adjusting crooked frames and plucking lint off people’s clothes and fixing their hair or tucking their shirt tags into their collars and picking inconvenient locks, and if Tim knew Kon could do that kind of thing so subtly and easily, he would immediately lose his ever-loving mind about it. And also teach him how to pick pockets and crack safes, probably. Kon, obliviously, does not realize just how fucking useful those little things could actually be in hero-ing, because to him they're just normal little tricks he can just do whenever, not anything special or impressive. And like, why would he pick the lock when he could just punch the door down? Superman would punch the door down, right? And punching the door down looks cooler! So obviously he's gonna do that! 

Tim accidentally developed his initial crush on Kon via constant exposure through stupid teen magazine posters. He will swear on his life it started when they first met and fought supervillains together, but no, it was definitely that Kon was hot in those stupid cheesy posters that Tim kept running into while he did research on the new kid in the superhero community. Also he read so many of those lame tabloid interviews. Just . . . so, so many. Ugh. And he actually does keep up on Kon's Twitter and probably his Insta too. 

Kon absolutely accidentally holds himself back from his full potential as a superhero without really realizing it because he thinks “what would Superman do?” while mostly knowing Superman through hearsay, information uploads from biased sources, and what few facets of his personality Clark is actually willing to show him. So he has a very skewed image of him, obviously, and is trying to grow up and be a person Clark isn't and no one really could be. But Kon identifies himself as Superboy because he doesn’t have anything else he knows how to be, and Superboy came from Superman, so he concentrates less on certain aspects of his powers and more on the Kryptonian-imitating ones. Again: he could just unlock the door, but Superman would punch it, right? Right??

[sixhours]

Postpartum

A one-shot set in the One Day at a Time universe. This probably won't make sense unless you've read that, but you do you.

Rating: Teen Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, mostly follows canon, angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy baby stuff, babyfic, postpartum depression-ish (not really, but could be triggering), ppd, hormones are wild y'all, breastfeeding is hard, mentions of Sarah and her being black so obviously leaning hard into the tv series and maybe racial themes if you squint? Word count: 1.8k

Notes: Sometimes I just can't get these characters out of my head.

You can also read Postpartum on AO3.

Joel wakes to the sound of crying, and not the baby’s this time. It’s Charlie, sitting up in bed with Anna at her breast, curled over the child’s nursing form and sobbing.

“Hey, whoa,” he rasps, sitting up and fumbling for the bedside lamp. “S’wrong?”

“She’s not getting enough,” she says through tears. “I don’t know…I just…it’s been three days and she needs to eat and there’s no letdown and I can barely squeeze anything out–”

“Hey, shh, s’okay,” he says. “Midwife said that’s normal, ‘member? Can take a few days for everythin’ to…uh…work.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if I’m b-broken? What if she’s starving and she can’t tell us?”

He shakes his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and sliding over to tuck her under his arm, careful because she’s sore and tender everywhere.

“You’re not broken,” he says. “You’re just…tired. And–”

“If you say I’m hormonal I will hurt you,” she hisses, then her eyes go wide and apologetic in the dim light, lower lip quivering.

“I’m sorry,” she moans. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that–it’s these fucking hormones, isn’t it? Fuck.”

“S’alright, I know–”

“You don’t. You really don’t. Everything hurts and I’m wearing a goddamned diaper –and these fucking cloth pads are worthless, I think I’m leaking on the bed again–”

“S’why we put a towel down. It’ll wash out—”

“...and my vagina is fucking ruined . It’s g-g-grotesque.”

“Midwife said you didn’t even tear,” he says, biting down hard on his cheek to stifle a chuckle. “I’m sure your, uh…your…um y’know…is just fine.”

She doesn’t appear convinced, tears catching on her lashes and streaming down her cheeks.

“My nipples feel like they’re being rubbed with broken glass. She doesn’t even have fucking teeth yet, how can it hurt so much? And she’s not getting enough, I just know it–”

He swallows hard and rubs her back like when she was in labor, firm strokes at the base of her spine.

“I can’t do this,” she whimpers, rocking forward over the baby. “I can’t…I wanted this so bad and now I’m just going to fuck it up.”

Another sob and now the baby starts to fuss quietly. Salty tears drip from the end of Charlie’s nose and land on the shell of Anna’s tiny ear, catching in her hair, dribbling down her forehead.

“Oh, great, now I’m crying on her,” Charlie sniffs. “Take her, Joel, before I drown her, she’s gonna be soaked–”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up,” he murmurs, but he lets Charlie slide the baby into the crook of his free arm. He bounces Anna for a few seconds, watches her tiny hands and fingers flex, then relax. Soon she’s fast asleep, entirely unaware of the drama unfolding around her.

“You’re doin’ just fine,” he says, kissing the damp curl of hair at Charlie’s temple. “S’only been three days.”

“I’m so scared,” she whimpers. “How are we supposed to do this? The world is fucking over , and we’ve gone and–and brought a child into it. What the fuck were we thinking ?”

“We weren’t. We were really fuckin’ drunk,” he quips.

She glares up at him with swollen, red-rimmed eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, biting back the urge to laugh as he redoubles his backrubbing efforts in a silent apology. “But…you’re doin’ so good. She’s safe. She’s healthy. Look–she’s snorin’.”

Indeed, Anna’s tiny sniffles have deepened into soft baby sighs that puff against Joel’s bare chest. He finds himself unable to look away, drawn into a trance by the subtle rise and fall of her ribs, the rapid pulse of her heart thrumming under her delicate skin.

“She’s perfect, see? You’re doin’ great. Could use a little more sleep is all.”

Charlie whimpers miserably and presses her face to his side. “She can’t sleep if she’s starving, Joel.”

“She’s not gonna starve. We’ll call the midwife in the morning. She said they have—what is it, donors? If you can’t—“

This elicits another wail from Charlie. “You mean if I’m broken .”

Shit.

“No, no, that’s not what I—I meant just to—I’m—fuck,” he grits out, decides he’s better off shutting up. Instead, he rocks his daughter in one arm and holds the mother of his child in the other, waiting out the storm.

“Was it like this with Sarah?” Charlie murmurs after a while, voice laden with exhaustion.

“A little,” he says, hesitating. “Her mom was a lot younger than you an’ she wasn’t…wasn’t ready. She was a kid herself, and I prob’ly wasn’t the best partner. Hell, I was only 22. S’not an excuse, but…y’know. S’what it was.”

He shifts uncomfortably, remembering the long nights, the fighting, the abrupt dissolution of his family’s future before it had even begun.

“Anyway, she uh…she couldn’t handle it. Left when Sarah was a few months old.”

Charlie makes a sound in the back of her throat, then reaches over, gently grasping one of Anna’s impossibly small feet, rubbing at her little toes until the baby spreads them wide and pushes against her fingertips.

“She’s so perfect, I’m worried I’ll…I’ll ruin her, somehow,” she whispers. “But I can’t imagine leaving her.”

He meets her eyes, the next word rolling tender from his lips, tightening his hold around her shoulders to emphasize the point.

“Exactly.”

They stay like this until her breathing slows, until they’re drifting in that liminal space of exhausted new parents. Charlie wipes at her eyes, lets out a drained sigh.

“I wish he could have met her,” she says, her words muffled against Joel’s chest. 

He . Her late husband, one of many ghosts that floats about the edges of their lives, caught in the periphery. Joel feels a twinge of something like envy, but it’s hard to be jealous of a dead man, so he brushes it aside.

“You’ve never told me his name, y’know,” he says instead.

“I didn’t? Oh,” she trails off. “It was Marcus.”

He rumbles an mmm in acknowledgment and rests his chin on the top of her head, marveling at how perfectly she fits there, wondering if he could fill that space for her someday.

“Sometimes I could swear I see him in her,” she continues. “Isn’t that silly?”

“I dunno,” he murmurs, swallowing hard. “Sometimes…I think I see Sarah in her, too.”

She blinks up at him. “Well…at least that makes sense .”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel sniffs, tracing a thumb down Anna’s cheek, lost in thought. “Sarah took after her mom…she was half black. Looked nothin’ like me.”

He regards their daughter–pale complexion, silver eyes, straight dark hair. But still, she’s in there; his Sarah, his baby girl. Something about the slope of her nose, the arch of her eyebrows, the curl of her thumb against her bottom lip.

“What was Sarah like?” Charlie murmurs sleepily, nestling further into the crook of his shoulder.

“Stubborn as hell,” he says immediately, the words pouring out before he can lose his courage. “An’ you don’t have to tell me she got that from me. Already know.”

“You? Stubborn?” Charlie says, and he can feel her smiling against him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirks. “When Sarah was about three, she threw a fit in the store. Wanted…somethin’ or other, I dunno. A toy, prob’ly. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I had to drag her outta there kickin’ and screamin’.

“Except…she doesn’t really look like my kid, y’know? So she had the whole store convinced I was tryin’ to kidnap her, and they got security askin’ me questions, and she doesn’t understand, just keeps…keeps cryin’ and holdin’ on to me–”

He breaks off, surprised at the clarity of the memory; his flailing, sobbing kid in his arms as the security guard grilled him, the creeping shame and anger at being singled out, him and his girl against the world. A lump lodges itself in his throat and he blinks back tears.

“Got us outta there as fast as I could,” he says. “God…haven’t thought about that in forever.”

“That’s…awful.”

He shrugs. “Losin’ Sarah was awful. The rest was just…life.”

“You don’t talk about her,” Charlie whispers.

“S’hard, but…this helps,” he murmurs, stroking Anna’s dark hair, ducking his head to place a gentle kiss to her crown.

“Anyway,” he sighs, a deep, shuddering breath as he brings himself back to the flour-sack weight of the baby girl in his arms, the warm comfort of Charlie’s shoulder against his ribs. 

“All that to say…I get it. Hell, sometimes I catch myself thinkin’ Ellie has my eyes,” he chuckles. “Makes no fuckin’ sense…but maybe it don’t have to.”

Charlie shifts, rests her head against his chest, slurring her words slightly. “Mmmm…she does, though, doesn’t she?”

“Sure, let’s say she does. And this li’l one has…Marcus’ smile or ears or somethin’, maybe. He’s part of you…so he’s part of her, too.”

“Maybe,” she murmurs, yawning. Soon her breathing is slow and even, her body relaxed and pliant against his.

He allows himself the luxury of staring, struck by the way Charlie’s dark lashes fan over her cheeks, the mirror image of Anna’s.

Within minutes, they’re both asleep in his arms.

“Joel…Joel, wake up. I think–”

Charlie’s voice is soft and calm, no longer frantic, her words nuzzling gently against the dim reaches of his brain. He’s vaguely aware of the weight of the baby being lifted from his chest. He blinks, stretching, neck and shoulders tight where he’s dozed off against the headboard. The light is still on and a soft early morning dawn filters through the bedroom window.

He watches with heavy eyes as Charlie puts the baby to her breast, watches Anna’s little mouth eagerly searching for the nipple, bobbing against it greedily before latching on, drawing a soft hiss from her mother at the initial sting.

The baby makes deep, wet suckling sounds and tiny, satisfied grunts, making him think of a piglet. He smiles groggily and cups her soft little head in the palm of his hand, watching frothy bubbles of milk gather at the corner of her lips as she eats and eats and eats.

“Joel, look…”

Charlie’s trying to show him something but he’s too tired, too sleep-deprived to understand until he feels her hand guiding his, placing it on her swollen breast the way she used to place it on her stomach. The flesh underneath is tight and full and definitely not broken.

He kisses her crown and breathes her in, all lavender and powder and milk, still cradling the baby’s head in his hand as he drifts off to sleep.

[vodika-vibes]

I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕

Silent Night

Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 725

Warnings: None

Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!

“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire. 

The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”

“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.

She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”

“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”

Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”

“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.

“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”

She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”

“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”

She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”

“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”

“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”

He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”

“Hm?”

“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.

“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”

“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”

She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”

“No?”

“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.

Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”

She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.

“I’ll stop, if you want.”

“Well now, I didn’t say that.”

She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”

Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”

“Yeah, if it’s alright.”

“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”

“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.

She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.

Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle. 

Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.

[zhongrin]

a favor granted, a favor returned

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ fem!reader, smidge of angst, violence, platonic/familial zhongli & guizhong, zhongli in his rex lapis days

◇ a/n ◇ inspired by @nohrenvia’s ask where the reader died and got brought back to life. disclaimer: i’ve only heard lil bits and bobs of the tales of guan yin from my mom who was a buddhist so apologies if i made her uh awkward?? but anyway it’s supposed to be just an imaginative depiction of her! you can think of her as an oc i guess??

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

ʀᴇx ʟᴀᴘɪꜱ was a god.

a god who was merciless, strong, yet still wise at times. one could say he was a simple brute who - fortunately for his people - was continuously influenced by the good nature of his friends. he gained wisdom through his connections, life lessons through his experiences, and humbleness through his fellow adepti comrades. unbeknownst to himself, he had shaped a safe haven for the lonely and saved many from tragic ends, all by his own hands.

but that was not to say he wasn’t ruthless. his hands were drenched in blood and his fangs had sunk into many fleshes. he had killed, hell, slaughtered, all in the name of peace and protection for his people.

it was mostly thanks to his closest companions that he hadn’t strayed far from his original path.

and so, it would be an understatement to say that the impact of guizhong’s passing was enormous.

the gatherings that were once bright and lively were silent and solemn. the banquet lasting into the night was not filled with laughter but soft sobs and drunken slurs. one less glass of wine on the table. an empty, untouched plate. the amount of food normally wiped clean within minutes getting colder as the hours ticked by. a hollow gap in between what was supposed to be a tight-knit group of friends.

on that day, they all lost a family member. from that day on, their hearts went numb.

no one stopped him when he wordlessly set out to subdue an unknown encampment that had just settled near guili assembly. guizhong’s people were his people - their people. it mattered not that she had passed. he would protect every single one of her followers; it was a promise he made to himself as he watched her body disappear at her parting rite.

besides, at the back of his mind, he desperately wished to feel something. anything. he was so sick of the weight in his steps, of feeling like nothing mattered.

perhaps the adrenaline spike from a battle was what he needed.

spear slashing, stones unearthed, screams of the innocent vagrants. his limbs moved on autopilot, pure muscle memory guiding him into a deadly form of art; a mesmerizingly morbid dragon dancing in the moonlit night, rains of blood as its background and song of the souls ascending to the higher celestia as its music.

yet still, the regret remained; and this time coupled with shame, because what would guizhong say if she saw him now?

“i know you’re part dragon and all, but killing for the sake of killing will never give you the satisfaction you want,” a smile as pure as the freshly bloomed glaze lilies spread over her face, “i can’t say that my hands hadn't taken any lives either, but why don’t you at least try killing only for the sake of protecting people you care about, huh?”

it wasn’t long until a deity - presumably one who was leading the group - appeared and kneeled in front of him, along with her attendant, who was shaking like a leaf.

in comparison, her master looked calm. saddened upon the death of her people, but still eerily serene nonetheless. she took one look at him, and the tears gathering in her eyes fell.

was she crying for her people?

or was she crying for him?

… no. impossible.

“a mercy for a favor,” she said, unshaken.

a natural outcome. there was no need for any explanation on his part. this was the age of war for the archons’ seat. there was only one reason a god would invade another’s territory.

kill or be killed. such was the law of teyvat at this time.

she smiled wryly when he continued to glare at her mutedly, “you’ll need it one day. i know you will.”

he scoffed, “and what, prey tell, could a lesser god like yourself give me, rex lapis?”

“you really need to dial down that arrogance, you know! it’s so off-putting!” laughter as clear as the chimes of a bell followed her scolding as everyone else agreed with her.

instead of cowering in fear or showing distaste for his haughty tone, she fell silent as she gazed into his eyes. briefly, he wondered what was it that she saw.

could she tell the pain he hid behind the mask of cold indifference?

could she fathom the loss he felt?

“i will save you, just as you saved me today.”

could she tell how lost he was?

“are you insinuating i will fall in battle? your insolence is surely guided by your lack of knowledge. do you not know of my-”

“there is no one in teyvat who would refute your infamous reputation, warrior god. all i’m merely saying is that not all battles can be won by brute force and pure strength.”

“preposterous. i have not lost a single war waged against me-”

“but are you not dangerously losing the inner battle within your mind, right at this very moment?”

his jaw set.

those eyes… those straightforward eyes that seemed to stare into his very being.

those familiar eyes…

... perhaps this woman too, was a dear sister to someone.

“we all might be enlightened beings, but that doesn’t mean we’re not fickle!” mischief colored her bright eyes as she wiggled a finger in front of his nose, “so make sure to use that power of yours to the fullest potential, yes, mister lord-of-contract?”

“what is your true name?”

“miao shan. my name is miao shan.”

“very well then, miss miao shan,” his eyes, cold as slate, stared her down as the gold veins on his arms glow brighter in the darkened night.

“let’s make a contract.”

“did you hear? about the woman who came back to life?”

“oh, i know her husband! he works in the funeral parlor as a consultant!”

“what an extraordinary miracle…”

“or maybe it’s just another case of a quack doctor. aren’t those scammers still running around to this day?”

“no no, it couldn't have been! dr. baizhu himself was the one who tended to the woman on her last moments.”

“then, it really is a miracle?”

“archons… he must’ve saved a god or something in his previous life, haha!”

“….”

“miss miao-”

the attendant gasped upon receiving a warning look from her lady, “m-my-apologies, i-”

“that’s alright. just be careful next time, hmm?” the woman chuckles, turning away from the gossiping crowd of tables to sweep over the streets, “mortals these days have quite the active imagination, don’t you think?”

“pardon…?”

a glitter of gold. familiar amber eyes, stern glint softened with love, edges crinkled with salvation. blood-soaked hand riddled with scars washed with tender adoration, caressing feathers onto the newly born adeptus’ skin.

“…. nothing. let us depart. my business here is finally finished, after such a long time.”

“certainly… lady guan yin.”

as i have saved you, just as you had saved me, i will consider our contract fulfilled, rex lapis.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea

[crow97street]

─── ⋆⋅it’s not just nostalgia, is it?⋅⋆ ───

part 1

synopsis ✦‧₊˚ chan discovers age regression and he finds comfort in indulging in light agere, also deals with not being ashamed/embarrassed about it^ - ^

warning/tags ✦‧₊˚ light age regression (not in this part), caring skz members, overworking, self-deprecating thoughts, also silly skz doing silly things

notes ✦‧₊˚ haiii!! this is my very first fic:) it will probably suck cos my only experience is a klance fic on wattpad 3 years ago… but anywho! i got sick of the only fics i enjoyed being member ship fics </3 so i made my own!! this fic is solely focused on chan’s agere journey with platonic relationships with the kids :) no i do NOT hope chan struggles with any of this i just find comfort in somebody i love being the same as me! OH AND THIS WILL BE MULTIPLE PARTS!! okay enough yapping i hope you enjoy!

word count ✦‧₊˚ 1,464

song rec for this ;)

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

The familiar sounds of his ringtone woke Chan up with a grunt. He made some unintelligible noises before groggily opening his eyes to check the time. 2:31 it read.

“Shit.”

Chan cursed as he quickly swiped his fingers across the screen accepting the call.

“Channie-hyung?” Chan assumed it was Felix by the unique deep timbre in the voice, realizing he didn’t bother checking the contact.

“Mhm ‘lix?” Chan sleepily replied.

“Hyung? Where are you? You said you’d be home by midnight.” There was a worrying undertone to Felix’s voice that made Chan cringe.

“Sorry lixie, I fell asleep at the studio. I’m packing up now, I’ll be home in fifteen.” Chan answered as he began powering off his monitor and packing his laptop.

“It’s alright hyung, get home safe.” Chan heard Felix sigh near the end of his sentence.

“Course lix, see you soon.” Chan couldn’t keep the tiny smile from growing on his face at his dongsaengs concern. He hung the phone up and finished packing his things. Chan stood there staring off into the distance. Unable to shake the deep emptiness he’s felt lately. It feels wrong. Why is he lonely? He has so many friends and his members are always around. Why does he feel empty? He’s happy, he’s made it. Chan sighs once more trying, and failing, to pull himself together as he swings the door open.

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

Chan heard as incoherent whispers died down at his arrival. He turned the corner to be met with, expectedly, Felix’s face. Unexpectedly, Changbins.

“Hyung! Your home.” Felix kept his voice soft spoken as he approached, Chan assumed to not wake the other kids sleeping.

“Hi lixie.” Chan warmly smiled at Felix before accepting his embrace with a content sigh. There was a cough leading Chan’s attention to the other person in the room.

“Hey Changbin, what are you doin’ up? Normally you're out by like, ten.” Chan laughs to hopefully ease the suffocating tension in the room. It didn’t work.

“Felix told me you keep coming home late.” Changbin clears his throat as he speaks , clearly trying not to come off too aggressive. Too bad Chan knows him better than himself.

“Oh, yeah uh sorry I fell asleep again.” Chan awkwardly replies with nervous eyes. Felix and Changbin share a discontent glance and Felix sighs before he speaks up again.

“H-Hyung we don't want to sound overbearing or anything but, you’ve been staying late kind of a lot lately and we uhm” a pause. “We just want to make sure you're sleeping enough and taking care of yourself.” Felix rambles on with nervous gestures and fidgets that make Chan’s heart squeeze with guilt. Why does he keep doing this to them? Just because he felt a little lonely? Chan was wracked with deep guilt and frustration towards himself.

“Yeah channie-hyung, everyone’s sorta noticed but lixie made us realize it was a bit more.. Concerning than originally.” Changbin sighed out with guilt in his gaze. No, that wasn’t right, Changbin shouldn’t feel guilt. Chan should.

Wait, ‘everyone’? Fuck chan really did it this time. He broke his gaze and shook his head lightly to clear his thoughts.

“I’m really sorry guys, I didn’t mean for this to become a recurring thing, I just got so focused on work and making sure we kept up with our schedule.” Chan confessed avoiding the twin pair of worrying eyes.

“It’s alright hyung, but try not to let it happen again yea? We aren’t mad or anything, we just want to make sure you're okay.” Felix gave him a tiny smile. Changbin nodded in agreement.

“Yeah of course, let’s get you to bed though sorry I kept you both up.” Chan returned the small smile before walking further inside, moving their shoulders along with him. He received two small nods before he led them into their respective rooms.

Walking into his own room he let out another deep sigh. How many is that by now by the way? Before turning to his bathroom to brush his teeth.

Chan let his thoughts run as he auto-piloted his night routine. How could he let it get bad enough the kids realized? Gosh he can’t believe he’d worried them so much, he needs to get over whatever this weird feeling is so he can be there for everyone, he's the leader for god’s sake, shouldn’t he know better?

“Fuck.” Chan muttered as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looks terrible, no wonder they all noticed. Chan shook his head and returned to his bedroom flopping onto his bed and pulling out his phone. He’ll scroll on twitter for a bit before he sleeps.

Chan mindlessly scrolls, a few posts making him chuckle lightly, STAY’s were funny. He paused as he saw a post talking about the nostalgia of childhood cartoons. Chan felt himself smile imagining little Chris watching spongebob and adventure time in his living room. Chan felt a yearning grow in his chest. He wishes he could just be a kid again. Harmlessly watching cartoons and chugging down pineapple juice boxes, gosh he wishes. Chan feels his eyes tug, letting sleep consume him as thoughts of legos and car toys fill his mind.

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

Chan’s eyes flutter open to a loud thud. He swiftly picks up his phone to read the time displayed, 11:21. Shit way later than he wanted. He begrudgingly dragged himself into a sitting position on his bed sighing. Fuck hes not 10 years old and watching cartoons is he. Why is that still on his mind? Whatever, no time to dwell. He took a deep breath before standing and making his way to figure out what the thud was.

Chan walked out of the hallway to, well, quite the sight.

Jeongin and Hyunjin were playfully arguing and pushing each other over some rpg game on the screen. Felix and Jisung were frantically running around the kitchen with - what Chan assumes is - pancake batter smeared and splattered in various areas. Timers and blenders are going off along with the pancake mess too.

Finally, Chan drags his eyes to Changbin and Seungmin lying on the carpet going through bags of old clothes. Wait where is-

“Leeknow?” Chan asks aloud, scanning his eyes across the room once more to be sure he didn’t miss him among the chaotic scenery. All eyes snap to him immediately causing him to tense.

“Bathroom!” He hears a distant voice call out in monotone from down the hall. Ah, there he is. Chan gives the kids an apprehensive nod before backing up and spinning on his heel down the hall.

“Soooo why are you in the bathroom and not joining the- well, i don’t know what it is exactly. I don’t think ‘hangout’ quite captures whatever is happening in there.” Chan drags his eyes around the bathroom as he speaks, finally landing them on the other boy.

Leeknow pauses brushing his teeth to give Chan a long glance before spitting out his toothpaste.

“I escaped.” He stated blandly. Fair enough. Chan cleared his throat to speak again before he was interrupted by a yell from the not-hangout in the living room.

“Channie hyung!! We need help!” Chan couldn’t decipher whose voice it was, it might have been multiple? Nonetheless he sped down the hallway to see what the dilemma was.

“What’s going on?” Chan asked as he reached the kitchen. Although it seems he doesn't quite need a verbal reply. Felix is trying to stop the electric mixer from spinning as it tosses even more pancake batter around the room. Chan’s eyes widen and he rushes over to look for a solution.

“We just wanted some pancakes..” He sees Jisung cry with a pout out of his peripheral vision. Chan sighs - fondly but he won’t admit that - before quickly running to pull the plug out of the outlet, stopping the mixer.

He gets multiple odd blinks before Jisung speaks.

“Why didn’t we think of that?” He asks dumbfounded as he shares a glance with the other boy in the kitchen.

“Thank you channie-hyung you’ve saved our lives!!” Jisung dramatically exhales as he drapes himself along Chan. Chan rolls his eyes and pats Jisung’s head.

“Yahhh, look at the mess you two have made.” Chan sighs as he scans the kitchen. The two boys' expressions grow sheepish as they nervously chuckle.

“Well get to cleaning!” Chan yells out as the two scramble to get rags and towels. Chan chuckles and helps them all begin to clean. The whole situation just reminds Chan of the time he caused a huge mess cleaning pancakes with his mom when he was young. Chan pauses his motion of swiping the towel. Huh, there it is again.

[tinkerbelle05]

Colors of the rainbow

Character: Spiderman Noir x Masc!Black!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) Thanks 🖤 Spiderman noir x male reader romance? :D You show Peter the colors of the pride flag and he comes in love with all of the colors

Warnings: uses the word queer and mentions queer ppl, if you don't like then scroll away.

“What is that?” Peter asked, the confusion was evident in his voice and widen eyes. He was pointing to your pride flag that was hanging on the wall.

You were confused at first but then remembered, his universe was black and white, with shades of gray. He knew the names of colors but just not what they were. One time he mistook green for red and red for purple.

You unhooked the flag from your wall and held up to him, “This is the pride flag, also known as the rainbow flag, and the colors that represents those who are queer.”

He stares the flag intently and took it from your grasp. “Wow, look at all the colors. It looks like a rubric cube.”

You stifle a laugh at his comment but nod your head, “Yea I guess you are right.”

“The flag. Does it represent anything?”

“Yea it does. Red represents life, Orange is healing, Yellow is sunlight, Green is nature, Indigo is serenity, and violet is the spirit of queer people,” you explain to him and points to each color as you go down.

He listens to you intently and commits every word to memory. “The flag is beautiful and the meanings are even more so. Do you have any other flags with these amazing colors?”

His curiosity was cute and you couldn't wait to show him the different flags. You spent most of the day researching and looking up all the other pride flags for Peter to gawk at.

The harder Peter smiles, the deeper his two dimples get, and he starts talking fast. You don't think he even notices it and you can barely make out what he's saying.

"Wow, now this is a flag that you would normally see in my universe," Peter says and shows you the phone. It's a black and white striped flag.

After a while, it was safe to say that Peter had become in a way obsessed with the flags. He’s unlabeled for all intents and purposes but he has a whole closet of queer merch.

“Uh Pete, what’s all this?” you asked while you were cleaning your apartment. You found everything, was this all of the packages that kept coming to your apartment?!

There were multiple flags of varying sizes. There were pride stickers and slogans. Even clothes; shirts, sweaters, pants, socks, etc.

He comes up behind you, “Oh my pride collection,” he answers easily and walks away.

He’s pri-what?

You follow him into the kitchen and watch as he grabs an apple, “But why so many?”

“Why not? It’s pretty and colorful. And the designs are amazing!” he explains to you and takes a bite of the apple. “And supporting small businesses is always a good thing too.”

With his reasonings, you couldn't argue with it. You walk over to the couch and collapse into the soft cushions, "Okay Pete, just make sure it doesn't get too cramped, okay?"

He gives you a distracted yea and you watch him marvel at the pride decorations.

Tags: @butterfi, @hoeboat101, @ellatienesuscosas, @itstooearly-its3am, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @andhdi68a, @yourtsahik, @randomhoex, @badbehaviorxx, @sawi-06, @spider-bren, @somber-starz, @jam-skullz, @rosebunny, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @mur-docs, @nagi3seastorm, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @maypersonne, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @707xn, @avatarl0v3r, @jell0buss-37, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415, @keawio, @centipider, @gw3ndyswonderland,, @avatarl0v3r, @minimari415, @emgavi, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @vixqn, @nerdyparker616, @jell0buss-37, @avatarl0v3r, @keawio, @ellatienesuscosas, @baneofthemultiverse, @skullux, @luci1fer, @1uvvmi, @thebestandtherealestever, @baneofthemultiverse

Masterlist & Reqs Info & Taglist & Anonlist & 500 Follower Celebration!

[dr-demi-bee]

@/abysskeeper tagged me in another writing WIP game and I feel like breaking all the rules so... (I didn't directly tag you in case the latter half of this is uh...not for you? But maybe it is. In which case, yay!) Here is a dump of blurbs for things in the works from Dr. D! Not-so Wild Shape

Tav slips inside his tent whisper quiet on little paws, noting Astarion lounging with his back to her, nose in a book. She spies her prize across the tent -a pile of ill-gotten baubles- and slinks that way. She's nearly there when the world suddenly shifts. "No no no, absolutely not." Astarion hefts her into the air by her armpits before she can grab hold of any of his pilfered trinkets. "The dog is bad enough. I will not tolerate cat hair and muddy paw prints inside my tent." He plops her unceremoniously onto the dirt just outside his tent, though she lands easily on all four. "Try your little experiment somewhere else, thief." Tav turns back to glare at him, flicking her tail in agitation. "Yes, yes, you're very cute, darling." He shoos her, "Now go."

Service and Worship are not Love

“Easy, Tav, relax! You're alright,” Gale soothes in her ear, holding her tight in his arms. Even through her light armor, Gale can feel how her heart pounds frenetically, how her whole body quakes. “You're safe, it's okay. Breathe,” “We have to leave-” Tav's voice is whisper quiet and full of panic. She sounds so young and scared. “We can't stay! We have to go -”

[NSFW Snippets below, 18+ only!]

Service and Worship are not Love

“Ahn- Gods-” “Who are you praying to, my love?” Gale asks between delicious lavishing strokes of his tongue, “No one is here but you and me. And I don't intend to share.”

When the Invite Arrives

“I can be quiet,” Tav whispers. Gale arches a brow, then teases his fingers feather-light across her breast. Tav lets out a soft moan despite herself. “No, you can’t,” he grins. Voice soft and low, he leans close to her ear, “Normally, I quite adore drawing a symphony from you, my love. But we aren't exactly in a position to indulge in that desire of mine just now.” The soft brush of his words and his beard against the sensitive shell of her ear makes her shudder. “I'll be good,” Tav whimpers, trying her best to bite back another cry when he repeats his teasing motion across her other nipple, “I promise.” Gale groans, his voice pitching ever lower, “Begging is not being quiet, Tav.”

In the After

“I find I am willing to do quite a lot for you, my love. More than I ever believed myself capable of.” Tav hums in pleasure, reveling in the feel of his closeness and the tenderness of his words. She sucks on the skin at the base of his collar, and punctuates her words with a rough grind of her hips. “And I you, husband.” Gale moans in earnest now. “I believe you may be torturing me now, love.”

[timperi-fan]

Hey 👋🏻

You said we could ask questions so I have two:

1. I think I saw something about deleted scenes or outtakes for ILITAYH after chapter 7. Is that still a thing/a possibility? 👀

2. Have you had anymore thoughts about the timcoswan fic idea? I totally don’t reread that post and it’s tags every other day haha, that’d be weird right???

Anyway, you’re doing amazing, im so excited for the next chapter of ILITAYH. Have an amazing day or night or afternoon.

1. I sure hope so! Fran and I have both been feeling a little burnt out (IRL stuff), so we haven't discussed ILITAYH too much. But the outtakes/scrapped ideas and side plots would be fun to talk about.

Here's a scene I jotted down that we never found a smooth way to integrate:

Fran is so good at keeping the pacing consistent and the narrative from becoming too crowded. She's seriously amazing at knowing when to cut or add something 🥺 We have plenty of ideas that we both really enjoy, but ultimately set aside because including them would weaken the cohesiveness of ILITAYH's story. Fran is such a good writer, it's crazy 💕

2. TimCosWan lives in my head at all hours of the day. (Fran in particular has been big on the TimWan/Mama's boy Timmy train, haha.)

Here's a little snippet from what we have written so far:

This one has been slow going because Fran is interested in the build-up, and I'm more interested in the sex part. (Ironically, the opposite of how we feel about ILITAYH!)

I just keep thinking about Timmy thinking he's unwanted. Timmy with a chip on his shoulder and cracks in his heart that he's desperate to mend. Timmy bringing him women with pink hair and dumb tall guys because he feels drawn to people like that but he can't place why. Timmy having nights of passion because every time he tries for something more, it's not right.

Timmy being sandwiched between his two kind neighbors — the neighbors who gave him tea and snacks when he was drafting up contracts, the neighbors who never judged him for bringing home drunken flings but instead always made sure he got inside safely if he was too drunk to even unlock his front door, the neighbors who love each other so much that he kind of hates them for it but they want to share that love with him, too, and he can't tell why, doesn't understand why they'd waste their time with a mess like him.

Timmy inside of Wanda with Cosmo inside of him, being held from behind and in front, soft hands brushing his hair back, Wanda's lips on his neck, Cosmo murmuring lovely words into his shoulder — things like, "We love you so much," or "You're doing amazing," or "You look so beautiful." Things that can't possibly be true, but God, does Timmy want them to be, and he sobs as he's rocked between them, "I love you, I love you, I love you—" And it's so easy to say, it feels like he's been saying it his whole life. It feels like he's whole for the first time that he can remember. It feels like home.

*ahem*

Uh, y'know. Normal thoughts.

[tartigglez]

HIIIII CAN I BE 🫧 ANON?? ILY THANKS!!!

could i get diluc (+ ur favs!!) assisting reader who’s hurt in battle :(( jus want my darknight hero to come rescue me 😮‍💨😮‍💨

hi nonnie! sorry it took me a while to get this done. i honestly don't really like what i've come up with but i hope its something along the lines of what you were looking for! also, i decided to make this a oneshot as opposed to hc's, so enjoy!

"do not concern yourself with such matters"

diluc x gn!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (???)

word count: 900-ish

tags: lol get rescued ig, diluc doesn't know how to interact normally which is lowkey kinda funny, reader gets injured, physical contact/being carried?

tw/cw: cuts, wounds, generally just,, pain? also diluc lowkey just takes the reader to his house while they're unconscious (no negative intent), idk how to put this other than "examining the thighs" of the reader but he's TREATING A CUT OKAY? i think that's it?

a/n: eek this took to long to write bc i was being lazy, so it might feel a little disjointed or as celeste would put it: "might read like a wet dog"

cryo abyss mage.

23:00 

200m from dawn winery.

you awoke with a pounding head, and little to no feeling in any part of your body, blurry vision and barely any consciousness, just feeling icy, freezing. you noticed nothing but pure, vibrant vermillion, before closing your eyes again, not knowing at all what was going on, completely unaware.

23:35

50m from dawn winery

slowly willing your eyes open, in a daze, with your head resting against something warm, comforting, you could hear loud breathing, and some sort of fast movement… running? someone was… carrying you? with it being far too exhausting to stay awake, you closed your eyes once again...

00:30

dawn winery

you awakened in a warm room, in some sort of bed. a cosy blanket covered your legs and waist, and your head rested on soft pillows. you had very little recollection of anything that happened, but still felt oddly safe. upon looking around the room, you saw a few dimly lit lamps, oak furniture, some sort of grand vanity set, and wooden floorboards. 

the stream of thoughts running through your head was interrupted by the entrance of a tall, handsome man, dressed in a black t-shirt and some sort of lounge trousers, wearing thinly rimmed glasses, sporting the same vermillion locks you had envisioned earlier. and he was… carrying two glasses of water? this man was… what was his name? the bartender… ah, yes!

“master ragnvindr? what.. are you doing here? what am i doing here? what happened?”

“there is no need for being so formal, since we’ve spoken before. then again perhaps you don’t remember, you were rather intoxicated. call me diluc. as for what i’m doing here, this is my home, why wouldn’t i be here? as for what happened, and why you are here… i think you might need a lesson on why we shouldn't approach enemies alone, hm?

“but… the abyss mage. it was outside th-”

“i took care of it. don’t worry”

“i-okay”

there was a silence in the room, which was somewhat uncomfortable, awkward, but not unbearable, and you knew it was up to you to break it. 

“what…”

“what happened?”

“i presume from your injuries, and the fact that the mage was no longer shielded that you managed to break its shield before it hit you with an attack. judging by your current symptoms it seems that it hit you with some sort of direct cryo energy to the head, which explains your lack of consciousness” 

“but… why were you…?”

“do not concern yourself with such matters”

“i… but–”

“here, i brought you water. you should focus on recovering for now. how are you feeling?”

he moved himself to sit next to you on the bed, as you sat up to take the glass out of his hand. 

“thanks… i’m okay, just a bit achey”

“achey? did you sustain any other injuries?”

“uh, my leg feels a little weird, but don’t worry about it, i’m sure it’s fine”

"if you are injured, you must tell me.”

“i think it might be cut but… it’s fine, i’ll deal with it”

“where?”

“oh… uh-”

“where.”

his tone was stern, but certainly not angry. somehow gentle but assertive at the same time.

“uh, somewhere on my thigh, i think-”

“give me one moment.”

he got up and abruptly left the room. this diluc -as you now called him- certainly was a strange, strange man…

you then heard the door into the room click closed once again. the man was now holding a first aid kit, and what looked like a pair of shorts… how odd. 

“here, change into these and i’ll have a look at it.”

“but… master diluc, don’t you think that’s a little-”

“a little what?”

“uh, nothing, nevermind…”

“i’ll be back in a few”

“oh, uhm, okay…”

and so, seemingly having no other option, you slowly, somewhat painfully changed into the shorts, noticing a lesion on your right thigh. it wasn’t particularly deep, but it was long, and still bleeding a little bit.

a knock on the door put an end to your thoughts.

“are you done? may i come in?”

“uh… yeah.”

he slowly opened the door, you sitting on his bed looking at your wound, and him looking concerned. he then sat down on the bed beside you, after lifting the first aid kit from the dresser where he had left it. he proceeded to lift some antiseptic out, to start cleaning the wound. 

“here, this might sting a bit”

he pushed the hem of the shorts up your leg a bit so he could have full access to the cut. he then began dabbing at it with the cotton.

“agh, it hurts”

that feeling was immense pain, and you felt a little childish, having your injuries tended to like this.

purely by natural instinct, diluc moved his free hand to one of yours, interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing gently. his hand was warm and calloused, and he was extremely focused on the task at hand, so he didn’t seem to notice you admiring his rather striking features.

“you’re okay, i’m almost done”

you hissed in pain, burying your head into his shoulder out of instinct. thankfully he didn’t seem to mind. 

“there, done. are you alright?"

“yeah, yeah, thank you”

“not a problem. do you need anything else?”

“uh, no, i don’t think so”

“alright, in that case then, i'll be going to bed.”

“wait”

“yes?”

“uh…”

“uh?”

“can you… stay?”

“i was waiting for that”

(au where diluc is secretly a flirty bastard)

[concussed-to-pieces]

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Pairing: Pro Hero!Mirio/AFAB Villain!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: As an individual with a pretty unimpressive Quirk, it hadn't taken long for you to stray from the straight and narrow. Until, of course, a certain pro hero from your past turned up on your doorstep…

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our last installment! I'd like to thank you all for coming along on this little tale. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @hijackser @nonstop-haikyuu @zombiexbody @buttons-beads-lace @swift-omg-no @ectoplasmictoast @tartimaar-bloggeth @plaguedoctorsnake

Part One: Breathing Room

Part Two: Consequential

Part Three: Sunshine; Golden Boy

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains emotional duress and unprotected intercourse between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You gasped against his mouth but your surprise didn't last much longer than that. Instead you leaned into the kiss, a little giddy when a strong hand gripped the back of your neck to hold you still. 

"I'm not going to know what to do." Mirio whispered, his eyebrows drawn low in concern. "I've never done anything like this before. Never had the time for it."

"I'll let you know if I don't like it," was your answer, just as soft. 

Mirio's hold tightened momentarily. "You'd better. I won't forgive myself if you don't." As you nodded, his serious expression eased. "Okay." He breathed, "okay," and then pressed an entirely different kiss to your lips. It was wet, hot, full of tongue and his teeth accidentally hit your own more than once. It was only after your noses bumped that he pulled away with an awkward little laugh.

"Why'd you stop?" You asked, panting a bit. 

"Breathing was tough." He was panting as well, that signature smile brightening his formerly-pensive face. "More?" 

"Do you want more?"

"Yes."

"Then okay." You grinned, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and pulling him in.

…

He couldn't think straight at all. 

Your hand had slipped down to unbutton his jeans a moment before and you were currently stroking his cock through his boxers which was…great, incredible, but he was definitely not going to last long if you kept that up.

"H-Hey," Mirio began shakily, groaning into your mouth when you kissed him. "Hey, I uh…look, if you keep-"

"I know." The smirk you gave him sent a shiver through his entire body. You looked so pleased with yourself. Maybe you just enjoyed having him at your mercy for once. Normally when the two of you clashed, you would only just manage to flee the scene. 

But- 

"Don't you want--" Mirio's breath hitched. "-don't you want me to…uh--well, y-you know." 

"We've got all night." You soothed, your hand doing anything but that. 

Mirio's whole body tightened up in response and he was vaguely dismayed by his lack of endurance. To be fair, he reasoned pragmatically, I've never had someone else touch me like this. "I'm going to-" he paused, scrambling to think of what the hell he was going to say, oh God why was this so embarrassing-

"Come for me?" You suggested and all Mirio could do was nod dumbly, his hips rocking into your palm. "Where would you like…?"

Oh God. Mirio's mind whipped itself into an immediate frenzy at the possibilities, the possibilities, on your face, in your mouth, on your chest, your stomach, inside- "I--mouth?" He managed to ask, his voice rasping low. 

You knelt without another word, placing the head of his cock on your tongue. Togata's entire being focused down on that one point of contact, his brain going blank. He heard some noise come out of him, it must have come from him but he didn't think he had ever made a sound that deep, it felt like it was rolling from the middle of his chest.

He only regained a portion of his senses when your palm pressed firmly on his thigh, holding him still to keep him from bucking any further forward--was that your throat–Mirio choked a little. "Holy moly." He gasped, confused when you snorted.

You pulled off of his cock, still snickering a little. "Gotta' say, I've never heard that one before." You said after swallowing. 

You swallowed.

"Is it okay for you to do that? I've heard--I mean, I don't know about the taste, so you don't…" Mirio trailed off, sure that his face was bright red. 

You made a dismissive sound, accepting the hand up from the floor. "Not a big deal to me, don't sweat it." He still felt a bit bad about it, but if it didn't matter to you…

Mirio took you by the upper arms again, pressing your back to the door as he plunged his tongue into your mouth. You made a startled noise, then it was as if you melted against him. Your fingers plucked futilely at his clothes like you were searching for some kind of anchor, or maybe you wanted skin to skin contact? 

…

Mirio pulled his shirt off over his head which satisfied your brain for the time being, and you leaned back to take in the sight of his upper body. "I love your hero suit, by the way." You crooned when he ducked in for another clumsy, breathtaking kiss. 

Mirio tilted his head, seeming confused. A flush began to work its way up his neck as he clearly realized what you meant, the young man looking self-conscious. "Is…is it too much? Should I change it?" He asked worriedly.

"Don't you dare!" You laughed, giving him a playful poke in his chest. "You have any idea how tough it was to focus on dodging your attacks when all I could think about was-"

"Okay, okay, whoa there." Mirio cut you off with the protest, waving his hands. "Were you--what, while we were fighting?!" He sputtered.

"A villain never reveals their secrets." You teased, winking and getting a reluctant chuckle out of the young man. "I'm only sorry my uniform wasn't tailored to inspire those same thoughts in you."

"I was always more concerned about whether I would accidentally hurt you." Mirio admitted bluntly. "I wasn't gonna' pull any punches, but I didn't want to use excessive force either. I know I…I could be kind of a lot when I cut loose."

"That was half the fun!" You protested, making him laugh again. "Especially when you'd grab me and you'd be all worked up and irritated-"

Another kiss silenced you, Mirio now pink to the tips of his ears. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to be. I'm supposed to be kind of unflappable, y'know." He mumbled.

"Oh don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed. I only noticed because I knew you for so long." You tapped his jaw. "You get a vein that starts building in your neck and your jaw goes tight."

"I do? Geez, I'll have to work on that." The young man sounded somewhat dismayed. "Can't have people reading me that easily."

"It's better that way. You want the normies to remember that you're still human, right?" 

Mirio went still, his expression darkening. "I…yeah, you're right." He then cupped your cheek, gently easing your face to one side. "I'd like to do this again, I think." He murmured, pressing a few light kisses to your neck and the bruise you sported on your shoulder. "This human stuff." He clarified needlessly, and his smile was tinged with sorrow even as he spoke. "I never know when it'll go away."

"You're not dead yet." You felt like an idiot as soon as the flippant, automatic response left you, but Mirio appeared to agree with your sentiment.

"I'm going to take full advantage of that, I promise." His smile brightening, he went so far as to give you a little wink. "Now come over here so I can uh…do…what people do when they hook up."

"Alright, we can move to the bed." You allowed, laughing as you pulled your shirt off over your head. You ought to have known that any sort of gravity the situation may hold wouldn't last for long in the wake of Mirio's perpetual good cheer. This was just a hook up between old friends and, hey, you figured if he performed well you'd be gracious enough to consider looking over the paperwork. Whether a reward for him or you, you couldn't really say. 

Mirio had bounded to the bed, but the way he was looking at you now gave you pause. 

You hesitated, fidgeting with the sleeves of your discarded shirt as confidence slowly bled out of you. "If you're not comfortable with this-" you began, hoping that he was simply nervous.

Mirio's swallow was audible. "You just look really good." He stated, his voice soft and layered with an odd, unfamiliar heat. You could feel your own temperature rocket up in response, a flushed sensation spreading rapidly at the young man's obvious interest. 

You did your best to appear unaffected, though your leisurely saunter was nearly ruined by your stumbling out of your pants. "Oh?" You mused, trying to free your trapped leg in a cool and collected manner. "I'll admit, that's pretty nice to hear. You're not hard on the eyes yourself, Mi-"

Hands grabbed just beneath your rear and you were abruptly pulled in between Mirio's legs, the young man staring up at you with something akin to hungry awe. You shivered without meaning to, startled and also a bit excited by this turn of events. You could absolutely live with Mirio taking the lead, if only because it might yield humorous results. 

"Now what?" You purred, slinging your arms back around his neck. 

Mirio wordlessly hefted your legs up over his thighs, spreading you wide in his lap. He then kissed the fingers of your right hand, one by one, before requesting in a low voice, "show me what you like, Sunshine."

…

This was fantastic.

Fantastic. 

There had never been a time in his life that he had felt like this and he wanted to remember every detail of it, etch it into his brain with indelible marks. 

What you liked was, apparently, something that he could provide, which was immensely encouraging. As was the sight of you splayed in his lap, your body trembling and voice hitching even as you instructed him to move his fingers like this. 

"Y-You're pretty good at this," you praised, panting. 

Your words sent a shiver down his spine and Mirio straightened up, feeling very self-satisfied as he quickened the pace of his fingers. He could hear how wet you were and the idea that he had done that (or had at least helped a bit!) gave him the confidence to ask, "can I try something?"

The eyebrow raise he got in reply made Mirio cringe a little, but then you were laughing and telling him to go for it. "I'll let you know if I don't feel comfortable with it, Golden Boy." 

"Okay, good." Mirio made a spinning motion with his free hand. "Turn around for me?" After you repositioned yourself in his lap, Mirio pressed his lips to the back of your neck. You quivered under the touch, making a soft sound.

"Don't tease me," you whispered.

"I won't." He promised, fingers trailing over your chest to your nipples. "I just want to feel you." His hand slipped lower, down your stomach to his rapidly-hardening cock. Mirio hissed out a breath, cupping his dick and then sliding it against your pussy. With one large hand keeping it pressed to you, he used the other to gently pluck and tug at one of your nipples, making you arch back against his chest. 

"Mirio…" you whimpered, your breathy voice music to his ears. The young man nuzzled his face into your neck in reply, mouthing at the sensitive skin he discovered there while he slowly worked his cock back and forth over your pussy. 

Togata abruptly realized that you'd had enough when you canted your hips just so, causing the head of his cock to slip into your entrance without his intent. "Oh! Sorry, I-" Mirio's words ground to a stop as you shoved his hand to the side, leaning your entire body forward.

"Fuck me–" you swore, the muttered curse combined with the hot, tight slide of your pussy making Mirio's breathing shudder. You were so wet from his definitely-not teasing that the young man could feel you soaking the base of his dick already, even if most of his brainpower was currently focused on holy hell don't come yet, please don't come yet, this feels incredible.

Your palms pressed down on his thighs and you wriggled, likely situating yourself more comfortably, but Mirio grabbed your hips before he could think twice about it. "Wait." He gasped, biting his lip in an effort to maintain some sort of composure. "Wait, don't move. Just--g-give me a second."

"Oh that's right." You couldn't have sounded more self-satisfied if you had tried, Mirio was certain. "This is your first time, Golden Boy?"

"D-Don't-" He wanted to protest, really he did. Just because he hadn't had sex before didn't mean he was unaware of it, unaware of the urges of his body. His own wants and needs had just…well, they had never really taken priority is all. Then your nails were lightly scratching his thighs and the denial died on his lips. 

"Hey, I'll take good care of you." You crooned, your smug tone only riling the young man up further. 

Mirio's eyes narrowed, his mind racing to come up with something that would throw you off balance. He wasn't exactly knowledgeable in this field, but he might be able to…

Without another word he wrapped an arm around your waist, his other hand seizing your ribs. Then, he laid back, dragging you with him.

…

Holy shit.

Holy shit. 

Mirio, sweet, heroic Mirio, the golden boy, currently had you at his mercy. Restraining you with nothing but his own strength, the young man worked you down until you were fully seated on his cock. You moaned, startled when he shifted you to once again have your back to his chest, his hold on you methodically changing to finally coax your legs up into a full Nelson.

"Holy shit." You gasped, Mirio's fingers laced firmly at the back of your neck encouraging you to look down and watch him penetrate you. "H-Holy shit, Mirio-"

"Don't worry." The young man's voice seethed hot against your ear, echoing your confident words from moments before. "I'll take good care of you." 

"Oh I–believe it." You whimpered, biting your lip. 

Mirio rocked you down into the cradle of his pelvis, seeming to enjoy the idea of you watching him. "This okay?" He grated out, the concern heartwarming but ultimately unneeded. 

"Fuck me, Mirio!" You cried, more than a little panicky at the thought of him stopping. This was the most excitement you'd had in ages, you weren't about to tap out before the fun even began! "Please, please please, I want you-"

Mirio wordlessly planted his feet on your bed, arching his back and thrusting up into you. You keened out, helpless to do anything but get fucked by the large hero. The feeling was breathtaking, a complete surrender of control that left Mirio free to do whatever he liked to you. Currently that appeared to be stretching you to your limits, his cock rubbing in just the right way to drive you to your breaking point. You weren't sure when you had started chanting his name, and you had no idea how you managed to find the breath to do so in the first place.

Mirio, for his part, seemed content to rut against you and pant in your ear, the normally-talkative young man all but silent. He suddenly shuddered bodily, muttering something and then adjusting his grip to ease the strain on your neck. "Probably wasn't too--comfy-" 

Truthfully you hadn't even noticed, but you definitely felt the relief once he changed his hold on you. Your thanks died on your lips as the hero continued his single-minded mission, the air leaving your body too quick for you to get out a sentence. 

"Gonna' come," Mirio grunted, then, "f–uck, want you to come though." The unexpected swear caught you off-guard, your body tensing up at the low, desperate tone of his voice. Something about witnessing Mirio's rigid control begin to fray was fascinating, and you found yourself hoping that you'd get to see more.

"In me," you managed to say, relishing the groan you got in reply. 

The hero shifted, arching beneath you while he fucked up over and over, and with one final, deep plunge, his muscles went taut. "N…not yet, not yet." You could feel the hammering of his heart in his chest, the trembling of his body as he strained and then after what felt like forever, he let go of you.

…

Mirio fairly collapsed, going limp. "Y' 'kay?" He gasped, hastily relinquishing his hold on your body. You, apparently in the process of catching your breath, sufficed with a thumbs up to reply. 

Mirio felt a laugh threatening to escape and he did his best to ward it off by skirting a hand down your chest and stomach to stroke slowly, slowly over your clit. Judging from the way you shivered and arched up into his palm, he got the feeling that it had been the right call.

"I want–" he paused, trying to think of how he could say it differently and just settling on, "I want you to come too, okay? Show me what I should do."

You inhaled quickly, your hand moving to cover his. Your index finger urged his own forward, drawing lazy circles while the heel of your palm kept him from retracting his hand. Not that he would have, of course! Mirio was intensely interested in finding out how he could get you to come, especially considering that you had managed to get him off so easily before. His own impressive recovery period notwithstanding, he still felt like you more than deserved to enjoy yourself if you were able to. 

Judging from the noises you were making and the way your body was writhing, you were extremely able.

Mirio latched his other arm over you just beneath your chest, pinning you down as best as he could. 

"I've got you now, villain!" He exclaimed, grinning broadly while he grappled them to his chest. The miscreant lashed out, yelling and trying to kick him, but their attacks passed harmlessly through his body. "Careful! You'll hurt yourself." Mirio chided, snagging the tail end of their deep hood and tearing it off of them with one sharp jerk. "Now let's see-!"

You? Mirio froze.

Seizing your advantage in his moment of distraction, you managed to wrestle free of his hold. You glared at him with wild eyes, a smirk growing on your face when he remained silent. "What's the matter, Golden Boy? Usually you can't shut the hell up." With that, you slung yourself over the edge of the roof. Mirio heard you hit the fire escape with a metallic clang, your running footsteps quickly fading away…

"I've got you now, villain," he teased, hearing you snort in reply.

"Shut up, you're such a nerd." You said with a breathless laugh, shoving your forehead against his jaw. "I'm not going along with your weird roleplay kink."

"Roleplay-" Mirio began to sputter indignantly, about to list his protests because of course it was a joke, he was joking, but he decided to shove his thumb against your clit instead. With his cock still inside you he found he could feel your reactions, even the ones you tried to hide, which he was sure might be considered playing dirty. He couldn't really bring himself to care much though, considering the fact that your fingers were digging into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"H-Hey–" you panted, sounding a little confused. "Mirio, w--Mirio, holy shit."

"Is it alright?" Mirio cautiously asked, hoping that your reactions weren't being caused by something aside from pleasure.

"It's great, fuck, fuck-" You were trembling, seeming torn between fucking down onto his cock or up into his hand. This led to stuttering motions that Mirio slowly eased into the rhythm of, his pelvis shifting up to meet you and elongate the motion. Your whole body was pressed to his and, while Mirio had a difficult time splitting his attention between the sounds he was wringing out of you and keeping his fingers moving, he liked to believe he wasn't doing too badly. 

You suddenly tensed up and the hero choked, feeling your pussy throb around him. "Fuck." You breathed, going limp in Mirio's arms. 

"Wow." Mirio gasped, grabbing your hips and thrusting upwards. "Wow, Sunshine." His brain completely deserted him as he chased his own completion, dissolving into nothing but nonsensical muttering and panting. "S' tight–" He groaned and it was as if you tightened even further, forcing him to do nothing but grind himself against you like a man possessed. 

You pitched forward to brace yourself on his thighs and that was all it took. Mirio buried his cock inside your cunt and came, his hands trembling before latching down hard on your hips.

…

You stared up at the ceiling, stunned speechless. Mirio simply continued to gently clean you up with a washcloth. When you finally broke the silence, it was to ask, "where the hell did you learn how to rail like that?"

"Good?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes Mirio, fuck's sake," you laughed, your mind still hazy. 

"I mean, I-I dunno', it was my first time so I'm not really sure."

You shifted your weight, catching his wrist. "You weren't kidding earlier? I figured you were just trying to maintain that sterling reputation you've got."

Mirio didn't meet your eyes, seeming a bit embarrassed. "W-Well, what good would have come out of lying? You'd have figured it out pretty quick."

Deliberately softening your tone, you replied, "Thank you for being honest with me, then. Even if it could be awkward."

"You deserve honesty," Mirio insisted, "and you deserve safety."

You sighed heavily, flopping onto your back and rolling your eyes. "Alright, let me use the bathroom and then you can pitch me your incredible scheme." You raised a finger to ward off the excited outburst you could see he was about to unleash. "I expect to have my record scrubbed. I'm not joining some stuffy group on garbage terms just because you think I would 'work hard and succeed' or 'it's what's right'. You know you can trust me. If you want me involved, you can go to bat to convince your peers to let me function without imposing unnecessary restrictions."

Mirio looked incredibly serious. "Done." 

You reached over, giving his hand a shake. "Well then Golden Boy, sell me on your plan and let's get me that hero license."

He pulled you into him instead, his eyes searching your own. That serious expression didn't wane in the slightest, even as he leaned down to kiss you once more. "I'll keep you safe." He murmured. "You don't have to be afraid anymore, okay? I'll help however I can."

"Sh-Shut up, Golden Boy." You blustered, flicking the tip of his nose before making your escape to the bathroom. Before you did anything else though, you braced yourself on the sink and studied your reflection in the mirror for a few moments. Was it hope or just the idea of it, daring to brighten your expression from its usual frown?

Maybe…maybe this hero stuff isn't so bad.