#it’s just hard choosing to be out on a weekend when it���s where most my free time is lmao like. huh i could be playing sims rn

[the-authoress-writes]

Up Where We Belong Part Two

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Writer!reader

Up Where We Belong Masterlist

Synopsis: When a writer experiencing horrible writer’s block goes to the Apple Valley Airshow for inspiration, she meets a certain older, daring naval aviator, leading to maybe a little more than just inspiration.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in their late thirties to early forties), some to-be-expected cursing, depiction of the beginnings of a panic attack (it doesn’t become a full blown one).

But really, this is just fluff.

Author’s Note: I intended this to be a two part story, but as always, it didn’t turn out that way (my brain is like a mushroom farm at this point), and the third part of this (fingers crossed), is going to be the final part.

I’m choosing to look on the bright side and I’m telling myself I’m more than halfway done with this.

*sighs in frustrated writer*

This part is a little more MavDad than shippy, but it’s where this wanted to go, so…

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Again, I name a story after a song, from another movie about the Navy, funnily enough.

(Only three of my stories on my masterlist are not named after songs)

I can’t stop, apparently.

So here we go!

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had been expecting a normal day when he met her.

Or, well, as normal as a day could get for him.

It was a bright and sunny weekend at the Apple Valley Airshow, where Mav had just flown an aerobatic sequence for the gathered crowds in Bianca, his beloved P-51, and Bradley had not taken much convincing to come out for a day with his dad and the chance to see planes, despite the fact that he was already around them Monday to Friday.

Most aviators were plane nerds after all, and airshows like these were heaven for aviators like him and Bradley.

“You okay back there, Baby Goose?” Mav asked through the comms, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the engine of the P-51.

“Yeah—yeah, I’m fine,” Bradley breathlessly replied from the backseat, his exhale turning into a weak chuckle. “You’re crazy, you know that, right, Dad?”

“Your father and uncles might have mentioned that a few times,” Mav grinned.

He gracefully looped the venerable Mustang around and brought her smoothly onto the runway, mindful of the P-51’s unstrengthened landing gear, gently flaring the aircraft so she caressed the tarmac, unlike the unflared, hard landing he instinctively would have done in any Navy aircraft.

After an uneventful taxi back to the flight line, he pushed the canopy back and climbed out of the cockpit, Bradley a second behind him.

“At least we didn’t have anyone shooting at us this time around,” Mav half-joked, patting his boy on the back, once he’d also jumped down from the wing.

“Thank Heaven for small mercies,” the younger man muttered.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, Brads.”

Bradley chewed the inside of his cheek, before amusement shone in his eyes, and he cracked a smile. “Okay, yeah, it was pretty cool.”

“She’s still got moves, huh?”

His son looked affectionately at the P-51. “Yeah, she does.

But it’s not the plane, it’s the pilot, isn’t it?”

“I’m willing to share when it’s this girl,” Mav grinned, patting her sun-warm silver fuselage.

After the two of them had stacked their parachutes and harnesses between the landing gear, Mav was busy putting the chocks on the wheels, when he heard a smooth female voice say, “Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Bradley replied.

“Is this the P-51 which flew a few minutes ago?

She is a P-51, right?”

“That’d be a yes to both questions, ma’am.”

A low, rich chuckle. “Are you the owner?”

Bradley scoffed amusedly. “Nah, that’ll be my dad.

Hey Dad, someone wants to talk to you!”

Mav ducked out from beneath the undercarriage and under a propeller, coming face to face with a very unexpected, but not unwelcome sight.

The first thing he noticed about the woman standing before him was her air of extreme competence, which immediately had him wanting to know more about her.

(He was decidedly ignoring the memory of Halo saying he had a competency kink after he’d told some stories from when he was in relationships at a Dagger Squad get together [non-explicit; the Daggers, especially Bradley, didn’t need to hear… intimate details of his life, after all].)

A quick appraisal had him estimating her to be older than Bradley, but younger than him.

She was beautiful, with lips glossed just right, shining, lush hair that he could already imagine running his hand through, a smile he could look at forever, and a figure that ticked all his proverbial boxes, visible even with her long, loose brown cardigan and cream button-down shirt over black jeans.

But what hit him like Mach 10 (and he would know) was the spark in her eyes, keen and intelligent, and they held a warmth and passion that called to him.

“Hi,” he began, extending his hand, ignoring the fact that he was stunned by this woman so he could attempt to be his usual self.

He’d been delighted to show her around Bianca, and he even went so far as to let her sit in the old girl.

Mav had not been expecting what she said about the book she was writing—her granduncle’s story hit home on practically every level possible.

He was absolutely honest with her when he said he wanted to help, but… he’d absolutely be lying if he said he didn’t give it with the hope that she’d call him in the first place.

It’d been years since he’d felt like this about someone, and he tried to stifle a smile as he recalled how they’d collided on Bianca’s wing, his quick reflexes preventing them from falling off the wing with a snapped-out right hand on the cockpit edge, his left instinctually protectively pressing her against him.

He’d never forget the way his heart raced as he realized their proximity, his battle-honed wits prompting him to swiftly move his hand before she could register his touch, though he kept his arm close enough to catch her if she began to slip off the trailing edge.

“What’s with that look, Dad?”

Bradley’s voice brought Mav back to the present, where he sat on his favorite chair in his hangar, Bianca’s flight log book in his right hand, pen in his left. “What look?”

Bradley shut the locker for the safety gear, the last thing on the P-51’s post-flight checklist, and strode over to the couch opposite. “You look sappy.”

“I’m just happy I had a great day flying in my girl, and with my Baby Goose, no less.” It was not a lie at all, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Any other person would have probably bought that excuse, but Bradley was one of the very few people he’d ever met in his life who could read him like a book in every situation, a skill unfortunately inherited from his father. “Uh-huh, sure, I think you’re just thinking about __,” his son incisively replied.

Mav absently bit his lip, “…That obvious, kid?”

“…It’s about as obvious as an F-14 in cloudless sky at 2,000 feet.”

“So, pretty damn obvious,” he squinted speculatively.

“Yeah.

You guys were like something out of a romcom, honestly.

Was that thing on the wing on purpose?” Bradley grinned.

“No, it wasn’t,” he smiled.

“Because you know, if you were any shorter, you might’ve ended up kissing her.”

Mav felt himself turn a little red, but was still amused despite himself. “Shut up.”

Heedless, Bradley continued, “You would have liked that, I’m sure.”

“You’re just as bad as your father,” he sighed.

His gosling’s grin turned sentimental. “Learned it from both of them.”

Bradley had openly called him “Dad” for years before, and again after their reconciliation, but statements like that never failed to warm his heart.

Helpless, Mav stood, and, going over to his son, stooped slightly to place a hand on his shoulder and a kiss at his temple. “Love you, Baby Goose.”

Before he could pull away, Bradley wrapped both arms tightly around him. “Love you too, Dad.

Mav was more than content to let the moment sit, the two of them still making up for almost twenty years of no hugs from the other.

Bradley eventually broke the silence with, “I’ll go heat up that pizza we got from the grocery last night, Dad, how about that?”

He frowned, pulling back, “I can do that, B,—”

“I’ll do it, Dad, you just sit and relax,” Bradley said, already walking towards the Airstream, and just as he was about to step inside the silver trailer, the kid fired off, “Think about your writer!”

Mav spluttered, looking incredulously at the Airstream’s door.

Bradley was really too much like Goose and him, he chuckled silently to himself.

The weekend’s end saw the two of them return to the duplex he and Bradley had bought together last year, sitting about fifteen minutes drive in the Bronco (about half that on the Ninja, at full Mav power) away from TOPGUN, where they were both posted as instructors; Mav himself permanently, Bradley, for a three-year period before his next deployment cycle.

Monday dawned, and he found himself glancing at the screen of his phone every time it dinged, so much so, that said son repeatedly glanced between him and the cellphone laid out on the Officer’s Mess Hall table over lunch.

“What?” Mav asked, confused at the younger man’s consterned expression.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my Dad?

You have not looked away from your phone since we sat down, Mav.

You used to have no idea what TikTok was, and now you look like Hangman after he posts a new photo on Insta, and I would know—God, he was insufferable that time in Sigonella.”

“…I’m guessing Insta is Instagraph?”

Bradley made a noise quite like his callsign. “l—you don’t even—Instagram, Mav, Instagram.

It’s like you’re expecting a call or so—” brown eyes excitedly widened as dots were abruptly connected, “—ohh shit; you gave her your number, didn’t you, your writer?”

Mav rolled his eyes, “She’s not my writer, Brads, but I… I did give her my number just in case she needed more help with—research.”

“Oh, research, sure, Mav; I bet you’d love to help her with her research,” the younger man chortled.

“You sound like your Uncle Slider.”

“Uh-huh—” Bradley brushed off, “we’re getting off topic here, did she say she’d call you or something?”

“No, she didn’t.

I told her to call if she needed me.” He wondered if, instead of being subtle, he should have just out and asked her to call him—or even just asked her out directly; the Maverick of over thirty years ago would have.

His son’s eyes comically widened. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you did not say it like that—that is as bad as you serenading that ex of yours with, of all the songs, “Abracadabra” by The Steve Miller Band.”

“Hey, that’s a good song!” Mav protested.

“It’s also creepy as hell—‘I wanna reach out and grab ya’?

Tell me you hear that?!”

Well, when the lyrics were said like that… “In hindsight, I hear it, no, I did not say it like that, and now who’s getting off topic, Roo?”

“Fine—so you were playing subtle, huh?” Bradley wrinkled his nose, tilting his head from side to side. “Well, we’ll just have to see if the subtle play works, because the Maverick charm was on max power, so you likely made an impression—”

“Thanks, kid?”

“—so I’d say… there’s a sixty-five percent chance she’ll call you,” was the determination.

Mav paused and raised an eyebrow. “Only sixty-five?”

“I’m taking into account the variable that she might not go for… people like you, you know.”

“…No.”

Mav could see both himself and Nick in Bradley’s shit-eating grin. “Old men.”

“An old man, huh?

Well, this is an old man who can still kick the asses of people less than half his age, and you too, Brads, six ways to Sunday, in the air or on the mats.”

A fork promptly got brandished daringly. “I almost had you when we did that demo on the death spiral two weeks ago, Dad, and if you hadn’t slipped my headlock on Wednesday, I’d have gotten you to tap out.”

Mav reached over and affectionately ruffled his son’s brown curls. “Almost only works with grenades, Baby Goose; now eat your shitty mashed potatoes.”

The week ticked by, and after every hop, he tried not to make it too obvious to Bradley, whose locker was right next to his in the Instructor’s Locker Room, that his phone was the first thing he checked.

By Wednesday evening, he was starting to lose what hope he had, and he ignored his son’s sad look as he surreptitiously looked at his phone.

On Thursday evening, Bradley slung an arm around his shoulder as they walked together to the parking lot. “I know I give you shit about being old, Dad, but you’ve still got more than enough charm and looks for women to be attracted to you.

I mean, you should have heard the stuff Phoe and Halo were saying about you during the detachment training—ugh, especially after Dogfight Football.

The thirst was real.”

At his confused look, Bradley continued, “Long story short, they said you were—bleh—hot.

I’m not repeating exactly what they said, even though I can, it’s all seared into my memory, unfortunately,” he finished, shuddering.

Mav laughed, “I’m sorry for the trauma, but, what, uh, brought this train of thought on, Baby Goose?”

He was pressed closer into a Hawaiian shirt-clad side. “I know you’re sad about not getting called by your writer.”

Knowing it was useless to deny it, he shook his head, “I won’t lie and say it doesn’t sting, because I really thought we had a connection, but it’s probably for the best, because I’m… well, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” his son adamantly stated. “Because you’re… kind and loving, with a heart about a billion sizes too big for his body, who gives so much of himself in literally everything—except maybe following orders; any woman would be happy with you.”

Mav reached and gave the vague vicinity of a shoulder a loving pat. “You give me too much credit.”

“No, Dad, you would make someone very happy—I want to see you happy,” Bradley squeezed a Nomex jacketed arm.

“I am happy, kiddo;” he cheerfully stated, “I can fly, I have the rest of the Flyboys, the Daggers, Bianca, and most importantly, I have you, my not-so little boy, who’s become a better man than I could have hoped.”

Bradley halted in his tracks, and tugged him into a hug with a laugh that could have been a sob. “Fuck, Dad, how do you just say shit like that?”

“Like what, that I’m so proud of you?” Mav beamed.

His son’s heatless “Shut up, will you, old man?” sounded suspiciously wobbly, but Mav chose not to remark on it, and hugged back before they continued walking after a moment.

“But back to my point,” the younger man pointed, “unless there’s something you’re not telling me about your relationship with Bianca, she doesn’t count as a woman in your life.

I know you have me, the Daggers, and the Flyboys, but it’s different from being in love and getting that love back.” Bradley suddenly snapped his fingers, “I know, I should start you a dating app profile!”

“Oh no, I’ve heard horror stories about dating apps, and I’m not desperate, Baby Goose.”

Bradley threw both hands up, “It’s not about desperation, Hangman has—okay, that’s not a good example—but you know, you need to put yourself out there more.

Meet someone.

Come on, Dad, please?”

The kid looked so hopeful, he couldn’t outright say no. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yes!

It’s not a no, I’ll take it.

I’ll look through the photos at the hangar tomorrow night—we gotta pick the right one—that can make or break things!

Maybe one of you in the dress whites or blues—or hey, ladies love the flight suit, and it’ll be even better if you’re in front of your F-18…”

At Bradley’s musing, Mav had a smile on his face all the way to his Kawasaki, and the whole way home, trailing in the Bronco’s wake.

After work early Friday evening, both men began the preparations for their weekly getaway to the hangar, packing their respective bags with whatever they deemed necessary for a two-day stay in the Mojave.

Mav was busying himself with checking his duffel before he hopped in the shower, when he heard clattering from his kitchen, and immediately, a dismayed “Damn it!” rang through the house.

“You okay, kiddo?” he called out.

“Yeah, I just—we’re out of Doritos!”

As amusing as it sounded, that did constitute a little bit of an emergency—the triangular chips were Bradley’s go-to snack, ever since he was a child, and he’d be bemoaning the lack of them the whole two days at the hangar if they really were out. “Did you check your kitchen?”

“I looked there first—we can’t leave without Doritos, Dad!”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “You still have time to go grab some if you want, I still have to take a shower, Brads,” he offered.

“Good idea, I’ll just go to the store and grab some, be right back!”

“Okay, drive safe!”

“Always!”

Mav waited to hear his front door shut before turning for his bathroom and starting the shower, tossing his shirt in the hamper on the way.

A few minutes later, he’d just begun to rinse off when he heard a faint noise from downstairs; his phone was ringing, he realized.

He initially paid it no mind—he’d been getting scam calls the last few days, which always ended up disappointing him—but then… it kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Hope suddenly bloomed in his chest, and he hurried to get out of the shower.

He nearly faceplanted on his own bathroom floor in his haste, stumbling when his lunge for his towel missed, but he was able to keep himself upright and the second attempt had the fabric in his hand, then around his waist.

Mav dashed out the bathroom and down the stairs, tapping the green “accept call” button.

“Pete Mitchell,” he spoke into his phone, trying not to sound like he’d just run a marathon while his chest heaved.

A slight pause later, a hesitant “Hi,” came over the phone, and his heart leapt. “I don’t know if you remember me, we met at the Apple Valley Airshow—”

She had to be joking if she thought she was that easily forgettable. “__, right?

The writer,” he replied, pushing the dripping strands of his hair out of his face.

“Yeah, that’s me, you said I could call if I had any questions.”

“Uh-huh.

I’m guessing you have one,” he smiled.

The following invite to the hangar was twofold; he’d be able to help her without the hassle of dealing with emails or something like that, and he’d be able to gauge if she was actually interested in him.

He remembered the way she’d slightly frozen, when he stepped out from under Bianca, how she’d glanced at his hand when he’d extended it for a handshake.

But he’d been wrong about a great many things before, and he didn’t want to immediately assume she was interested, because everyone knew what the first three letters of assume were, and for all he knew, she really just needed help.

Regardless, he smiled while they bantered as easily as breathing; it was invigorating, and… maybe a little bit of a turn-on, if he was honest.

(Maybe Halo was right.)

Shortly after they said goodbye, Mav sent the address of the hangar with a “How does 3:30 sound to you?” to her number, and three beats after it registered delivered, a “That’s perfect—see you tomorrow 😊” message came in, which had him sigh like a teenager as he leaned against the counter for a moment, before he pushed off to get dressed.

By the time Bradley came back with four grocery bags full of Doritos, from two different groceries, Mav was already dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans, ready to go. “You got enough Doritos there, Baby Goose?” he gawked at the sheer amount of chips.

“I’m restocking us, Dad, it’s not all for the weekend,” the younger man replied, emptying one grocery bag and a half into Mav’s snack cabinet. “I just need to put another bag and this half at mine, and the rest I’m taking.”

He bit down on his laughter and watched as his son dashed next door to stock his own snack cabinet, before returning in time to catch him staring at the “That’s perfect—see you tomorrow 😊” message on his phone.

“You’re looking sappy again,” Bradley squinted suspiciously at him. “It’s almost like you got a call from your writer.”

Mav tried to keep his face neutral, but as always, it was pointless with his gosling.

The kid’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, she did call you, didn’t she?!

Fuck, you still got it, Dad.”

He waved off, “There’s no guarantee she actually is interested in me like that, and she called me because she needs my help.”

“Oh, your help, of course,” Bradley grinned. “Well?

What’s the profile?”

Mav rolled his eyes. “She wrote a dogfight scene she can’t cut, and she wants to make sure the tactics are sound.

So I invited her to the hangar tomorrow so we don’t have to do any emails and stuff.”

The younger man whistled, impressed. “That was smooth as hell, Dad.

You have an idea of when she’s coming over?”

“1530ish.”

Bradley planted his hands on his hips with a sigh. “Well, that’s a good amount of time, but we’ll still have some work to do.”

“Work—what are you planning, Baby Goose?”

“We have to make the hangar a little neater than usual—make you seem like a responsible adult,” his son replied, as if it were the most obvious thing.

Mav burst into laughter while picking up his duffel. “If your father, your uncles, and nearly forty years in the Navy couldn’t do that, what makes you think spiffing up the hangar could?”

“Worth a shot, you never know—she might be fooled,” Bradley muttered, locking Mav’s front door behind them both.

“I heard that!”

When the afternoon set over the hangar the next day, now the neatest it’d been in a long time (admittedly, it wasn’t that bad, Mav just had a particular system, which didn’t much look like one in the first place), Bradley clapped his hands, “Now, I’m going to head into town, Dad.”

“What for?”

“Dad, your writer is coming in about ten minutes, and the last thing you need is me cramping your style, so I’m going to head into town, I’ll be back at around… let’s call it 2345–please don’t be naked when I come back—”

“Bradley!” Mav exclaimed, a little bit scandalized, though they were both hardly virginal.

“—and, and, prior notice of if I shouldn’t come back would be greatly appreciated.”

“Bradley!”

“What?

I’m just covering the bases.”

“There’s no bases to cover here, I’m just going to review her scene,” he replied.

“Annnd?” the younger man deadpanned.

“And then… we’ll see what happens.

But all I know is I’m not about to—whatever you’re thinking is going to happen.” Mav sighed, picking up a screwdriver that had fallen off the maintenance cart next to Bianca, and placed it back in the toolbox. “And I don’t… this probably isn’t going to go anywhere, because—I’m pushing sixty, kiddo, and really… I don’t think I have casual—anything—left in me anymore.”

Bradley slowly nodded, a proud look on his face. “Good for you, Dad.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm,” he replied, nodding, mustache quirking up. “I’m happy you know what you want.

But you gotta be more optimistic than this, because who knows, this could lead to your more-than casual something.” Bradley slapped him on the arm, “Come on, where’s the ‘I’m going anyway’ Maverick Mitchell who proved he could fly a suicide mission on a crazy profile, with fifteen seconds to spare?”

Mav scoffed self-deprecatingly, “Doing crazy pilot shit; that makes sense to me, Baby Goose, but… relationships—I’ve always FUBAR-ed them.

Oh God, I don’t actually know what I was thinking, giving her my number—this was a mistake,” he muttered, thoughts beginning to spiral as his breathing picked up.

Bradley grabbed both his arms, squeezing them to ground him. “Hey—hey, Dad, look at me—look at me.

Take a breath.

You did not make a mistake, you made a connection with someone, you offered to help them, and she took you up on the offer.

At the least, you help someone in need, and you come out the other side with a friend; if everything goes well, maybe you get more than friendship.

But like you said, you’re just checking the scene she’s having trouble with, like she asked.

Don’t put pressure on yourself—just see what happens.

You got this, Dad.”

“I got this,” Mav murmured, partly confirming his son’s statement, partly reassuring himself, and partly asking if he did, indeed “got” it.

“You got this; come here.” Bradley pulled him into a tight hug, one to which Mav clung, while he got ahold of himself.

When he pulled back from his son’s embrace and repeated “I got this,” a minute or so later, it was still slightly shaky, but held some of the classic Maverick confidence.

“That’s the spirit.” The younger man checked his watch, wincing. “I don’t want to cramp your style, and I’m cutting it close, but I don’t want to leave you if you’re going to spiral again.

You good, Dad?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” Bradley frowned.

“Yeah, I’ll just check on Bianca a little while I’m waiting.”

His son exhaled heavily. “You do that, alright?

Don’t get in your head—don’t think, just do, remember?”

“I remember,” Mav smirked.

“Okay.

I’m gonna go now.” Bradley cautiously backed out of the hangar, as if ready to pull him into another hug if he showed the slightest tell of another mental spiral. “Call me if I shouldn’t come back, and remember, 2345!

Please don’t be naked!!”

“Go!!” Mav chuckled, feeling mostly like himself again, if not slightly nervous.

“Love you!”

“Love you more, kiddo!”

Soon, the sound of the Bronco’s engine rumbled through the dry air before it faded, leaving the air still and silent except for the distant sounds of the Mojave.

Before his and Bradley’s reconciliation, he was used to the stillness and silence, a consequence of choosing to make the hangar his home a few years ago, upon his assignment as a test pilot at NAWS China Lake, despite the long commute; he’d never liked base housing, and avoided it like the plague.

He’d even found the stillness and quiet comforting in a sadistic way, thought it was maybe something he deserved in cynical moments.

But now, the hangar which Hondo had once referred to as his “Fortress of Solitude”, was a place of life, love, and joy, the old silence and stillness now the strange one.

Before he could think too much about his relationship with silence, he went to Bianca and started some busywork with her engine, allowing his mind to get lost—and more importantly, his body to relax—in the process.

He’d gotten so absorbed in his beloved plane’s maintenance that he almost missed the sound of an unfamiliar car pulling up to the hangar.

Immediately, his heart started racing again, but he’d accepted that for better or worse, this whole thing was going to play out as it would; if that involved him fucking something up, he just prayed he could fix it.

Moment of truth; the car door opened.

“Ghostrider, up and ready,” he muttered to himself.

“Hello?” she uncertainly called.

“In here,” he replied.

Mav swallowed thickly upon seeing her; he liked to think he had a decent memory, but his memory did no justice to her.

The desert afternoon light streaming in through the open hangar door haloed her in an otherworldly way, only making her even more beautiful to him, the breeze blowing her hair around and billowing her loose blouse.

His eyes were drawn to the little smile at the corner of her lips, and it was only because he’d been looking there, that he realized she was speaking.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” he brightly said, hoping that that wasn’t too out of left field from what she’d said, because he’d completely missed it.

Her smile widened, “Not going to miss it—for all I know, this is a one time opportunity.”

The replies that immediately came to mind sounded creepy, stupid, or worse, so he settled for, “Who said it was?”

She chuckled, lighting up her already sparkling gaze, biting her lip briefly before looking around the hangar, her eyes soon landing on Bianca. “Great place you’ve got here; must’ve been hard to get, though, with it being Navy land.”

“Not that hard when you’re got friends in high places.” Mav recalled the moment Ice and the Flyboys gave him the title to the hangar for his fortieth birthday, which they were celebrating along with his promotion to Commander.

She tilted her head slightly, and he realized that she probably heard the somber tone in his voice—remembering Ice was still hard, but it was getting better.

“Anyway, uh,” he clapped his hands, pushing forward, “you had a scene that needs checking?”

She blinked as if clearing her head, and raised the leather messenger bag on her shoulder. “I have my laptop right here.”

Mav gestured to his couch, and as they moved towards it, he prayed that he wouldn’t somehow make a fool of himself today.

To be continued…

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Because the P-51 was an Air Force aircraft, her landing gear was not designed for hard, unflared Navy-style landings, which are flown in that manner for carrier operations.

However, even if naval aviators land on a full-length runway, carrier habits die hard, and if you watch planespotting streams, such as my favorite, L.A FLIGHTS, you can make reasonable guesses as to who was former Navy, as the landings will tend to have a shallower flare at landing.

Chocks

The Apple Valley Airshow takes place every year in the town of Apple Valley, located in San Bernardino, California.

(I considered setting this story at the annual Miramar Airshow, which takes place at MCAS (formerly NAS) Miramar, but I imagine that Mav would probably want to avoid going to MCAS Miramar for obvious reasons.)

The trailing edge of a wing is its back edge, the edge closer to the tail—its opposite is the leading edge, the edge closer to the nose.

The chair I write as Mav’s favorite chair is the one he sits down in in the opening scene of TG:M.

As Mav is a Maverick in most aspects of his life, I thought it was perfect for Mav to be left-handed—and as Tom himself is left-handed, it couldn’t get more perfect.

The F-14 is notable as being quite large as fighter jets go, and she is practically impossible to miss in the sky, once within visual range; and she is sometimes called the Flying Tennis Court, a nickname she shares with the McDonnell Douglas/Boeing F-15 Eagle.

Bradley and Mav living in what is essentially the same house, having bought a duplex together, is something I can see them doing after they reconcile, because to me, these two are basically orange cats with separation anxiety, and I feel like they would be the epitome of healthy codependency, if that’s possible.

Mav power is a play on words/reference to the engine throttle conditions of fighter jets; Max power is the maximum engine power with afterburner (wet power), and MIL (which stands for Military) power is the maximum engine power without afterburner (dry power)

Do not quote me on this, but as I understand it, in the Navy, you don’t deploy all the time.

There are years you are given a land-based assignment, like Bradley being assigned to TOPGUN, before you are put back on ship deployments for a similar amount of years.

TL;DR: Deployment cycles in the Navy have you rotating between ship-based assignments and land-based assignments every few years.

NAS Sigonella

“Abracadabra” by The Steve Miller Band

I chose this song because of this piece of art by @woodsywarbler, and “Abracadabra” is my favorite song by The Steve Miller Band, despite the really creepy lyrics.

A death spiral is this little bit of crazy pilot shit, as shown in TG:M. (Timestamp 7:34)

Nomex is the flame-resistant material which flight suits are made of, and it’s also what Mav’s green jacket is made of.

Doritos came out in 1964, plenty of time for Bradley, ‘80s baby that he is, to develop a yen for them.

(Flight) Profile: a graphical timeline of the operational characteristics, configurations, and speeds of an aircraft along a flight path in a specific phase of flight or maneuver.

FUBAR: Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition (or Repair, people argue which word the last letter is)

Fortress of Solitude

Ghostrider was Mav and Merlin’s operational callsign during the Layton Mission, and again, do not quote me on this, but you get to keep the operational callsigns you received during notable missions, a detail alluded to in the TG:M screenplay, so Mav uses it here to psych himself up.

Taglist

@ohtobemare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[queer-ragnelle]

hello..👋👋

as someone who wants to get into arthurian legends.. where do you think I should start? is there a precise canon to follow? oh and.. this might be a stupid question but.. how would you describe guinevere's and lancelot's relationship...? i personally really like them because of what I've heard online, but i got shamed for liking it a while ago from people who really hated guinevere and said gawain or galehaut(not sure if i spelled it right) would be better for lancelot..

Hello anon!

I have a Beginner’s Guide to Medieval Arthuriana pinned on my blog. There’s no precise canon to follow, but you’ll get the most bang for your buck reading the works of Chrétien de Troyes and the Vulgate Cycle. Much of what Chrétien developed ended up in the Vulgate, like Lancelot rescuing Guinevere from kidnapping, but there are more elements added from other stories, such as Lancelot’s upbringing in the lake which originated from Lanzelet by Ulrich von Zatzikoven. On the other hand, Yvain’s journey as Knight with the Lion doesn’t make it into the Vulgate, so that’s worth reading on its own.

Regarding the part about people shaming you: block them if you haven’t already and anyone else who does so in future. I’m terribly sorry those people were unwelcoming as you begin to read and learn about Arthurian Legend. Let that not reflect on the community as a whole—there’s many lovely people here that’ll be happy to help you along. I hope you’re able to cultivate a positive online experience to the best of your ability and start enjoying the legends with us! :^D

But back to the fun stuff—I also really like Guinevere/Lancelot! My favorite dynamic is when Arthur is included too, but Guin is my number one pick for Lancey. ;^) It’s hard to describe them in so few words but I think it’s important to establish that they’re friends. This is an oft overlooked aspect that really deserves attention. They care for each other deeply. She helps him out of his madness and he helps her out of danger. This is something Arthur couldn’t do for either of them, much as he wanted to. That’s what makes the pair special, to me.

As for shipping wars about medieval characters….kinda ridiculous! And shaming other people over it is just abhorrent. I’m sorry you had to deal with that! Personally I enjoy Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot and Galehaut/Lancelot. I think it’s obvious I favor Gawain with his wife Ragnelle lol but Gawain/Lancelot is fine too. Gawain can have a little Lancelot. As a treat. I even enjoy “crackship” type pairings, like Bedivere/Lancelot or Kay/Lancelot or maybe a little [unrequited] Agravaine/Lancelot, and if the author or filmmaker chooses to write her in a positive light, Elaine/Lancelot as well. But that’s just it—there’s certainly no such thing as a “better” person(s) to couple with Lancelot. It’s literally fake. It’s fiction. It’s for fun! Doesn’t sound like the people you’ve encountered were having very much fun and put that on you, which was wrong.

Here I’d like to mention I run a discord server called the Arthurian Theater Server. Every weekend I stream TV shows and movies, mostly Arthurian, sometimes random fantasy. But it’s more than visual media—my friends and I share resources, character playlists, art we made, stories we wrote, we’ll liveblog retellings or newly discovered medlit translations, and discuss anything else Arthurian! We have custom made emojis for all the knights and ladies, a variety of original art stickers of the characters provided by several members, and an array of sounds bites ripped from films and TV for the soundboard to be played while streaming. Tumblr can be a little hard to navigate with the unreliable tag system, so this server is dedicated to an organized and moderated exchange of ideas and content. You’re welcome to join us!

Let me know if you have any other questions, it’s never a bother. Take care!

[rougedragoonreaper]

A doe

Marilyn Thornhill X Female Teacher!Reader (legal age)

Summary: You knew things between you and your boyfriend/girlfriend changed when you stopped feeling that you loved them or that they loved you. Yet, you'd never imagined feeling comfortable enough to turn as you slept in your co-worker's arms.

Characters: Larissa Weems, Marilyn Thornhill, NPC (Lyida), Y/N

Warning(s): You can turn into a doe (shrugs). No cheating, just falling out of love. Darkish thoughts. Y/n has depression.

A/N: This story is based on a dream I had during my before-work nap. I changed things and left them out because they are irrelevant to this story. Consecutive criticism is appreciated. Thank you for reading.

A/N2: sorry for the shitty title. I dk what to call it.

It's been a long week for you, between working and trying to see your boyfriend/girlfriend. But you were happy. Nothing was wrong; you were overthinking things. Like you always do. Shaking your head as you gather your supplies, ready to start the weekend.

Initially, you had plans with your boyfriend/girlfriend. You would spend the night watching movies and cuddling on the couch. But they canceled on you. You squeezed the strap on your bag, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your heart. That was the fifth time they canceled on you. It would be best if you didn't have to keep track of who canceled date nights. You were just as guilty of canceling on them, too. You couldn't help but feel that you two were drifting apart. The dark part of your mind told you it was your feet that they could do better and find someone that doesn't turn into a mini-doe. They deserved someone who could turn into a predator instead of prey like they could.

"Stop thinking like that, y/n. You are fine, just the way you are. And if no one likes that, you can leave or give them a hoof or two in the shins." You chuckle, remembering your older brother making fun of your doe form. You got so mad you nailed him in the shin with your hidden hoofs.

Thinking you were going to be in trouble for hurting him. But your dad said he missed around and found out. And that one should never make fun of someone's animal form. It chooses us, and we don't pick it.

Signing as you open the door to your room, knowing that you should try harder to remember your dad's words. Yet it's hard to ignore when the dark part of your mind starts whispering. And it doesn't help that some have the ability to choose which animal form they can turn into. Most of the students and staff understand this. Some can't comprehend that concept. Like a few of your exes… and your current boyfriend/girlfriend. However, they are trying to be understanding. You'll have to talk to them sooner rather than later. All you wanted to know was where you stood in their future if you were even a part of them.

But for now, you need to get ready for ladies' night. Once your best friend Lyida heard that your plans with your boyfriend/girlfriend got canceled, she told Principal Weems and Ms. Thornhill. They both agreed to have a ladies' night in. A little wine, a corny movie, and food would brighten your mood.

After a quick shower changed into comfortable clothing, you headed to your best friend's room. Both of you were heading to Larissa's place.

"So… how are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm alright, just a little tired. It's been a long week. My head is spinning a little between Wednesday, Enid, and Bianca." You laugh, "But I think the entire school would agree with me."

"You're telling me. I feel like I'm part of a teen sitcom sometimes." Lydia replied.

You look at your friend, "For the record… I need to speak with them. I can't talk about it. Not yet." You say, knowing that Lydia was asking about your relationship.

"For the record, I'll be here for you when you are ready. Same with Larissa and Marilyn." She said, giving you a side hug just as you arrived at Larissa's place.

Lydia knocked on Larissa's door. "Ladies, it's nice to see you. Come in; Marilyn is already here." Larissa said as she ushered the both of you inside.

Marilyn was sitting on a vast, comfortable-looking couch. She waved at you and Lydia. "Hello, Lydia and Y/n."

You smiled at her, "Hello, Ms. Thornhill."

Marilyn held up her hand to stop you. "Y/n, how long have we been working together? You can call me Marilyn." She said, her smile lighting up the room.

You could feel Lydia roll her eyes at you as she pushed you to sit next to Marilyn.

"So, what movie should we watch?" Larissa asked.

"Let y/n decide," Marilyn said.

"ME… are you sure?" you asked.

"Yeah, YOU… We are here because of you," Lydia replied as she sat on your right. "I mean, we younglings would be having a movie night anyway," Lydia said with a shrug before Larissa gave her a look. She was making Lydia cough a little.

Marilyn laughed at their behavior before saying, "We wouldn't have a lady's night if your plans didn't fall through."

Marilyn placed a hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry your boyfriend/girlfriend canceled."

You felt your heart stopped when she squeezed your thigh, or maybe your brain was freezing, or you forgot how to breathe?

"Okay, just don't make fun of me. But how about we watch Hocus Pocus." You said. Lydia chuckled, "Even though the movie knows nothing about real witchcraft. It has it's charm."

"Yeah, for you, it's in the form of Sarah Jessica Parker." You said with a smirk. Lydia rolled her eyes as Larissa raised her eyebrow. Marilyn played with her glasses, shaking her head.

"So, are we all alright with Hocus Pocus being the first movie tonight?" Lydia asked. Marilyn and Larissa agreed.

Once the movie started, a comfortable silence filled the room. You didn't realize how tired you were, not even when you felt your body slowly leaning toward Marilyn.

"Y/n, you can lean on me. I don't mind." Marilyn whispered as she adjusted her position on the couch.

She was making it so her body was facing yours. Marilyn wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to her. With your head resting on her shoulder, you started to drift off. You couldn't make out what the others were saying, and you didn't notice Larissa move from the couch to a chair that was close by. You only saw that you felt genuinely safe in Marilyn's arms and that her heart bet was lulling you into a more profound slumber. You never truly felt this way, not with your exes or current boyfriend/girlfriend.

At that realization, you woke up. Noticing that you were now entirely lying in Marilyn's arms. Your legs were on Lydia's lap. No one seemed to mind that you passed out for most of the movie. You looked up at Marilyn, worried about things to come. Lyrics popped into your head, 'Let your arms be a place she feels safe in.'

You felt sad knowing you didn't have a future with your boyfriend/girlfriend. You were not in love with them anymore, and they probably (you hoped) felt the same way. You also hoped that maybe Marilyn felt something for you, too. Even if you both don't know what it is at this time. You can figure it out together. But for now, you'd worry about those conversations for another time. You just wanted to hold on to that feeling of safety. Marilyn squeezed you as she tucked your head under her chin.

You drifted off to sleep again. Not realizing you felt safe enough to turn into your mini-dose form while you slept in Marilyn's arms. You only realize that you change when you wake up. But you didn't feel like it was a big deal. Marilyn was fine with cuddling with you even when you became a doe. It must have helped that this happened while you all were at Larissa's place and that Lydia was around. You made a mental note to ask your dad if this typically happens. Because it's never happened to you before, nor have you read or heard about it.

"You two are awake. Lydia should be back with some food." Larissa said, smiling at Marilyn and you.

Looking at Marilyn, you tilt your head to the side. "You fell asleep too?"

Marilyn figged with her glasses, "I couldn't help it. I think anyone would have fallen asleep cuddling with a mini-doe."

"Oh… sorry about that." You replied, ducking your head down, trying to hide your blush.

"Oy My God!!!! Finally!!! We should eat this food before they fall asleep again." Lydia said as she came back into the living room. She was making everyone jump a little.

Larissa glared at Lydia. Lydia shrugged it off as she set the takeout on the coffee table. "You know I'm right."

You rolled your eyes at your friend but knew she was probably right. "Okay, we'll eat… and sorry for you know. Passing out on you guys."

"It's alright. You must have been tired." Larissa said as Marilyn nodded in agreement.

"This is your first year of teaching here, and you have a lot on your mind. Try not to worry about it." Marilyn added.

"Says the woman that passed out too." Lydia teased. She was making Larissa shake her head.

"Okay… how about we feed the witch before she curses us with a horrible music number." You say, teasing Lydia.

Soon, the room was filled with a familiar silence. Only small conversations, powers, and planets were made. All of you avoided talking about work and family, which could be for another day. You enjoyed the night even though you passed out and realized you fell out of love with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

When it got late, Marilyn left first, saying her goodnights to the group; you left shortly after saying goodnight to Larissa and Lydia before heading to your dorm. You thought of Marilyn, wondering when you started feeling for her, shaking your head, and realizing Lydia would let you know when. She would have been the one to notice that.

Stopping as it dawned on you that this could have been a set-up by Larissa and Lydia. Mostly Lydia. She was not happy with most of your exes. You'd make sure to speak with her later. But right now, you want to get back to your dorm and sleep before making a phone call that no one likes making. The rest can wait. You entered your dorm room with mixed emotions, good and bad. It was knowing that this was the beginning of something new made you feel confident. You just hoped you could hold on to that confidence when the time came. Laying on your bed, you remember how it felt to be in Marilyn's arms and start to drift off for the final time that night.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - May 7th

 HELLO MY LOVELY FRIENDS I MISSED YOU!!! Last week was a mess BUT I closed on my house Monday (OMG) and now we’re in the home stretch before we move (!!!!!). Quick note: 

I’m going to be moving May 21, so the rec list might be kinda off that weekend, but I’ll pre-plan something! Enjoy and be sure to drop a kudos/comment for your author! 

~*~ 

Mark Zero by enkiduu

Tony wears his lack of soulmark with pride.

lover, we always fall by enkiduu

Dying in a world with reincarnation is easy. Living in one is hard, because history inevitably follows you, and you can't always decide what your legacy is.

You try to change history, but your Icarus only ever chooses the same thing he's always chosen.

(In which Tony is Icarus and Steve is the ocean.)

ignorance is (not) bliss by earliebirb

One of Tony’s hands shoots up to grab his wrist, gripping it tightly. Slowly, Tony opens his eyes.

Steve’s blood freezes in his veins. His heart sinks with dread. 

“Tony?” Steve hopes that this is just some weird bout of sleepwalking, but Tony doesn’t sleepwalk, and from the thoughtful way Tony regards him, Steve knows that Tony is somehow very much awake, which means—

Tony swallows, his eyes wide and alert in a way Steve didn’t think they were capable of being twenty minutes ago. 

“Steve,” he says, the single word carrying too much weight.

the stark-tangled man with a crappy plan by Serinah for AvengersNewB

*At first, it seemed to be an easy job: find the O, secure the O, and hand him over to his guardian and the fiance. Simple. Unfortunately, the omega wasn't onboard. At all.*

OR:

Steve has to return a runaway omega to his guardian Mr. Stane.

Where Lies A Home by XtaticPearl

They're in the middle of the most complicated and risky fight of their lives, placing their bets on a distant memory right now, and basically in deep trouble if the plan doesn't work out. Steve knows he should be stressed and somewhere in the corner of his mind, he is a little. Mostly though, he's having fun and strangely, so is Tony.

Yes, Just Like This by gottalovev

Tony wakes up in a hospital on another planet missing his memories of the last eleven years. It's now 2023, and he learns the Avengers saved half the universe. Unfortunately, not everything he forgot is good news.

(An Endgame Alternate Universe AND Civil-War fix-it and get together story, weaved through a space road trip with Steve, Carol and Nebula. Complete but cut in 5 chapters for ease of reading.)

messages from the stars by Thahire

Steve's not expecting to find anything remotely of interest when he steps into Macy’s, of all places, in a last-ditch effort to find a present for Tony.

Somehow, he ends up leaving with an engagement ring.

Still Got It by KandiSheek 

Ever since Tony's close call in their battle against Thanos Steve treats him like he's going to break at the slightest pressure. He won't so much as look at the bionic arm either. So Tony takes matters into his own hands to prove that he can still handle himself just fine.

Soul Searching (The Hop, Skip, Jump Remix) by navaan

Tony lives a peaceful life in Irondale and then Steve Rogers drifts into town. It's the beginning of a romance — and not all is what it seems.

Code Icarus by FestiveFerret

Steve Rogers hates falling, but he hates being caught even more.

Truths, Lies and the Tipping Point by BlackEyedGirl

The news report seems more interested in the argument between the team during the fight than the way they eventually won. And then it gets worse.

Me in You by Captain_Panda

What if J.A.R.V.I.S. was Tony?

That is, what if a lonely genius Velveteen Rabbited his computer program into a real being instead of just his own thoughts talking back at him?

A deep dive into a broken psyche, contemplating Tony's loneliness, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s protectiveness, and the mother of all broken genius families. Mostly because Howard Stark never hugged his son.

Depthless by Captain_Panda

"Depthless: (1) unfathomably deep; (2) shallow and superficial."

Weeks after defrosting Captain America, S.H.I.E.L.D. finds Steve Rogers lying at the bottom of a pool. Assumptions are made. They have no idea what they are dealing with.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark, the man-in-the-spotlight, has demons lurking off-radar that are literally filling his lungs with water.

Ignoring either problem was never an option. This is the story of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark's collision course.

For What It's Worth by Captain_Panda

S.H.I.E.L.D. thaws out Captain America, expecting a combat-ready soldier to greet them.

They get Steve Rogers instead, a broken artist who turns to the violin for salvation.

hold your fire by JenTheSweetie

He watched Tony eat an entire steak and listened to him talk about the work he was doing on the Milano while he downed glass after glass of expensive scotch. Just as Steve was about to suggest they head back to the jet, Tony finished his last glass, put it down firmly, and said, "I want to blow you."

Steve stared at him.

"Let's get a hotel room," Tony said, like that was that, and somehow - and Steve never could explain how, not then and not now and not later - it was.

Say It Now by ishipallthings 

“I’m glad you’re here, Tony,” Steve tells him. It’s not everything he wants to say, but it’s enough.

Steve thinks it might be one of the most important things he’s ever said.

(Steve and Tony have a conversation the night before the time heist. Maybe second chances aren’t impossible after all.)

a hop, skip, and a jump by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)

“Before I go, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions.”

“About?” they ask they return the stone to its place.

“Timelines. Alternate realities.”

--

Steve returns the stones to their rightful places in time, gets his dance with Peggy, and then embarks on a whole new search.

Give Me Just A Little More Time by Robin_tCJ 

Spoilers for Avengers: Endgame. A full summary will live in the author’s notes, so you have to click to read it, but the premise is that this is technically canon divergent in the sense that I’m treating it as… a few deleted scenes in the middle, there. It’ll only make sense if you’ve seen the movie, and if you haven’t seen the movie it will definitely spoil you for it. Written in kind of a sketchy, lots-of-really-short-scenes style.

falling like the stars by complicationstoo

When Tony starts at MIT, he's excited to finally be in the same city as his older brother, Bucky, again. Then he meets Bucky's roommate and best friend Steve Rogers and falls faster than he would have ever thought possible.

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Day 3: Candy Hearts

A #hellcheervalentinesweek ficlet in which Miss Chris is the delinquent, for once.

Chrissy sees her locker before Eddie does. Goes stiff as a board beneath the arm he has slung around her shoulders, which shuts him up. Turns off the ol’ conversational spigot entirely as they stop in the middle of the morning crowd and stare.

There are oversized candy hearts glued to the grey metal. Someone has overlaid their faded, pastel messages with Sharpie, though. One letter per heart, spelling S L U T and W H O R E and F R E A K. Because it’s Valentine’s Day, and this school is a cesspit. 

“Fuck me,” he mutters, stepping forward to lean against the locker, all casual like he can’t hear the giggling morons in pastel jumpsuits who’ve clearly been waiting around for Chrissy to find today’s means of torment. 

“It’s fine,” she says, and though her cheeks have gone pink, there’s something flinty and hard in her expression when she nudges him out of the way. “I need my Biology book.” 

“Chrissy…” 

“I said it’s fine. It’s just candy.” 

To prove her point, she scrapes a fingernail across the S in slut, and while some of the sugary substance sticks, most of it dissolves into powder. He takes care of the rest while she retrieves her book, and while the outline of the hearts is still visible when she shuts the door, the cruelty of the message has disappeared.

“Hiiiiii, Chrissy,” trills Kristin McCullough, the bleach-blonde ringleader of the bunch. Jason’s new girl, the new head cheerleader, the psychopath who stepped up to fulfill Chrissy’s prescribed high school role when she involuntarily took a step back. 

Well, sort of involuntarily. The breakdown hadn’t been her fault. The dismantling of her entire life that followed in its wake, though? That was all Chrissy. 

“Kristin,” Chrissy says coolly, then reaches for Eddie’s hand. “C’mon, Eddie.”

“Sure, yeah,” he says, and walks her to class, not fully understanding whatever girl code was just communicated in eyebrow raises and sneers, but knowing that a message was sent all the same. 

Eddie’s so fucking sick of that girl. Kristin’s taken it as her personal mission to make the remainder of Chrissy’s high school experience hell simply because she’s choosing not to conform to some arbitrary, preppy standard any longer. Insults and whispers and pranks and death by a thousand cuts. 

Three months until graduation. Eddie’s counting the hours.

The rest of the day passes without incident, and any weight on Chrissy’s shoulders lifts the moment she steps into the trailer. Technically, she’s not living there, but considering she hasn’t been home in three weeks… yeah. She kind of is. 

They do their homework—she’s as insistent as Wayne that he graduates—and watch a movie before going to bed, where they have sex that’s sweet and slow because it doesn’t have to be furtive and fast. A novelty and a gift, as far as Eddie’s concerned.

The following day, she’s up with the dawn, murmuring something about going for a run into his ear. Okay for some people, he supposes, as he hauls the blanket over his head and sleeps until Chrissy shakes him awake.

Things are already abuzz when they step through a side door and into the hallway. Whispers and titters and oh, God, he's gonna kill Kristin, chick or not, he really is. 

Only, there’s nothing wrong with Chrissy’s locker. The heart residue from the day before, sure, but no sewage dripping out the vents or spoiled milk left to rot over a weekend. 

As it happens, the source of the drama is Kristin herself, who’s weeping openly in front of her own locker, her hand on her heart, while her friends crowd around. 

“You!” Kristin shrieks when she sees Chrissy. “You did this! You and that freak boyfriend!” 

Stepping back, Kristin gestures, and Eddie sees it. A S S H O L E, larger than life, scraped past the paint and into the metal of the locker below. There’s no painting over that sort of damage; they’ll have to replace the lockers.

Everything gets kind of wild after that. Miss Kelly and one of the science teachers are the first on the scene. Though Eddie and Chrissy are interrogated separately, nobody can prove they did anything, despite Kristin’s screeched protests. A search of their bags and lockers turns up nothing, and since Eddie’s stopped bringing weed to school, his van’s clean, too. 

“Why don’t you search Kristin’s locker for candy hearts and Sharpies?” he says at one point, which gets him detention that’s less about what he said and more about Higgins being angry he can’t suspend him for vandalization. 

At last, they’re released with a warning and sent to class. Eddie suffers through his detention after school, and Chrissy waits for him in the van.

“You did it this morning, right?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking lot. “On your run?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Seriously?” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; he keeps a sharpened pocketknife in his nightstand, and she has access. The rest is just details.

She looks down at her hands, and she's fighting back a smile. “Eddie, don't be silly. But I am sorry you got detention."

Tagging @amandaashplease for event visibility. Thanks for reading, friends, and if you'd like more fic, I have some work on AO3.

[luvinghanni]

Good day｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

Can I request another from the fandom of fable? ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

the scenario was like, Akira seeing his s/o (fem-reader) wearing a skirt for the first time. And it turned him on! (Smut please), If not it's ok...

Hey Anon ofc u can! Sorry if this gets released late I'm so sick at the time of writing this so my motivation is way down 🤧

I hope you enjoy and sorry if this is OOC for Akira (Ive never read the manga or watched the anime)

!!!NOT PROOFREAD!!!

Tags: p0rn with plot, pet name usage, creampie, no protection, p in v, consensual groping, slight hair pulling, smut, afab, Akira Satou, OOC

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

Lips like sugar

Satou Akira x Fem!Reader smut

Summer had finally come after months of chilly weather and you couldn't be more excited about it.

To you, spring meant many things- a few being pretty bouquets, sakura blooms, park dates, pretty sunsets but most of all? Cute outfits. You liked to look good in your day-to-day life, I mean who doesn't? But the colder the weather the more you struggled to find the will to care instead resulting in comfy knit sweaters and sweatpants being the go-to throughout the colder months.

Flicking through the many pieces of colourful fabric hung up neatly in your wardrobe you couldn't help but skip back and forth trying to find the perfect outfit, it was the weekend and you breathed a sigh of relief when you realised you FINALLY had a day off. How did you choose to spend this day? A sweet picnic with Akira obviously. As to be expected Akira found you gorgeous in any item of clothing but you wanted to look as cute as possible for yourself (and a little bit for him). Deciding on a ditsy floral blouse and a cream mini skirt you felt happy with your fashion choices and began to get ready for the day ahead.

You strolled through the semi-crowded park surrounded by gentle splashes of pink and white cherry blossoms paired with a mixture of tourists and locals alike appreciating the natural Japanese beauty before it faded away. Getting a day off wasn't usual for you so spending it doing something you actually wanted to do was practically Heaven on Earth and the weather only made it better.

Finding a free tree to rest beneath you began to scan the range of faces in the surrounding area searching intently for your lover, even starting to feel slight concern sink your stomach when your search came up empty "Kira where are you..." you began to bite at your nails nervously before a pair of hands were placed over your eyes "Hello gorgeous" soft lips placed gentle kisses down the side of your neck as a familiar voice whispered into your ear. Whipping around to face him a smile spread across your face as your eyes met his mesmerising black ones.

Conversation flowed between you as it always did but you couldn't help but notice your boyfriend appeared slightly distracted whenever you spoke, his eyes continuously dipped down seemingly entranced by a certain something..."Kira? Baby? You seem distracted, what are you even looking at?" Clearly snapped out of his daydream your lover smiled before moving closer to speak into your ear. "I was just thinking this is the first time you've worn a skirt around me.." he started "you look good baby, especially these" Akira moved his hand to caress your thighs immediately feeling them clench together, at his presence.

Swallowing hard you couldn't help but suddenly burn with want for him, you wanted him, every single part of him. Smiling he seemed to get the hint and grabbed the picnic basket before pulling your smaller frame up into his chest "I'm gonna have so much fun with you baby."

Both feet were hardly through the door before you were pushed against the back of it, lips flush against yours Akira's hands wasted no time exploring all that was concealed beneath your skirt nudging your panties to the side and pushing his fingers into you emitting a soft whine from your pretty lips. "Fuck Akira please I need you, need more than this" you begged against his neck praying he'd give in to your plees, fortunately for you he did carrying you to the sofa practically ripping both of your clothes off as soon as he could; all except for your mini skirt "I wanna see you all fucked out in it" Akira spoke up clearly noticing your puzzled look.

Flipping your skirt up you felt his cock prod your wet entrance before pushing inside gently allowing your walls to adjust around his considerable size and girth before speeding up his thrusts, groaning at your warmth "God Y/N you always feel so- fuck- so good around me" clenching at his words your back arched against the plush fabric of the couch enabling his tip to hit a spot that made you see stars. "Fuck Kira! There right there don't stop i'm begging you" Akira had never seen you this messy and desperate beneath him before and he couldn't get enough of it, rolling his hips to hit the perfect spot your moans only increased in volume hands reaching up to tug on his now messy black locs.

Before you could even think you felt a wave of pleasure rush over your entire body, liquid splashing onto the both of you as you cried out your lover's name his hips failing to cease as you rode out your orgasm. Not long after his thrusts began to speed up as his grip on your body tightened "Baby i'm so close..gon- gonna fill you up yeah? So so pretty for me.." forcing himself as deep as he could go he poured into you whining 'I love yous' and panting into your neck as he felt himself overcome his orgasm.

Too tired to move to the bedroom the two of you drifted off where you finished- sweaty and flushed as Akira trailed kisses down your chest, sharing you one last "I love you" before falling asleep in each others arms.

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

I'm sorry this is so shit I am so unbelievably burnt out I did NOT know how to write this 😮‍💨 I hope it's to your liking though anon.

As always submissions and requests are always welcome 🫶🏽

[matenrou-fan]

Yandere! Gentaro with fem s/o

Honestly, fling posse is my least favorite team from all divisions but I still kinda like Gentaro and Dice, so-- yeah..

yandere themes, gaslighting, manipulation, lying, using sedative drugs for off-label purpose, sadistic Gentaro, OOC, kidnapping, mentions of being chained up and have a collar and being trained, mention of pet/master relationship in the end;; 1686 words

Gentaro is one of the most mysterious characters in hypmic, so it's kinda hard to think about his personality around you, especially in Yandere mode.

Can't say if he has abandonment issues or something like that but I think that under his teasing and jokes, under all this calm and mysterious thoughtful personality he hiding pretty sensitive heart. And he really, really afraid that you will leave him alone, even when he's you "normal" boyfriend

But when he's yandere..? Uh oh. This fears eats him even more. Of course he will not show that, how can he? He's not delusional, and he's absolutely aware that his obsession over you grown up from wholesome loving attachments to something more.. dangerous. But he can't resist that.

Gentaro still so calm, always teasing you - maybe even more now - but when you will mention one of your friends or that you meet someone new, he get extremely jealous. And of course, he still didn't show that. Just simple smile, maybe he nod a little, while he leave a mental note in his mind that he should check up all this people around you.

He tries to find more about Ramuda and his past once so he can do something like that again, just to find something dirty about your friends, and he will not be ashamed. After all, he just trying to be a little bit protective, isn't it good for you, darling?

If he finds something bad he will immediately tell you, exposing all dirty facts. When you ask him how did he even find out something like that, he just simply shrug his shoulders and makes a surprising expression

"Darling, am I forgot to tell you that I was working with police once..? That was such a a high-profile case, and I helped them a lot.. and now they can help me with find the inside story to anybody in this town.." he looks at you then smirks "Usodesuyo~ Did you actually believes in this?"

Don't try to find the truth, he will never tells you, just keeps joke and lie to you.

Well, if his searches would be unsuccessful, who will stops him from lying, once again? He likes to tease you, and not only you, so he knows how to change his tone, expression, speech style so it would be actually sounds like truth, not like on of his mockery. You decided to talk with your friend and they deny everything, swearing that they never even think about something like that? Well, what did you expect? It's them lying this time, not Gentaro. You will believe him, right?

"I'm sorry, is my behavior counted against me? Now you don't trust me even when I'm talking serious?" - he ask quietly, with hint of seriousness in his tone. He's look calm but you can feel like if you try to argue this will ended up really bad.. It's just something about his gaze, something indescribable but threatening..

Really good in manipulation, will gaslight you. Where's you going? You promise him that you will spend this weekends with him, did you actually forget? What do you mean you already made an appointment with someone else? It's doesn't matter if it's your friends, family or something for study/work, you promised him before you planned your others meets, that's mean you should choose him.

Know how to push in right places, makes you feel guilty for not caring about him enough. He's a writer and sometimes it's can be really hard on work, and he doesn't have too much free time due to rap battles, and now you deny his invitation to have dinner in his house, when he finally find time for you..? How cruel, darling..

If he start this all just out of fear of being abandonment, then now he start to get more and more joy out of this situation. It's just so fun to play with you, you confused guilty face is just what he need. Also, he always was a little bit controlling, just don't really shows that, but now this urge to be in charge of your life get even bigger, and he will use all ways to control you.

He's not only a good lair, but a good actor too, sighing disappointed or looks away with sad face when it's needed just for you to cancel all your plans.

He's addicted to you but you will never realised that, just how good he can hide everything behind this calm mysterious look. You sure notice that he start to be more clingy now but you will immediately shutting yourself down. How can you be so heartless? He just trying to show you more of his attention while he can, and you just calls him clingy...

He will soon see his works had not been fruitless - you start to spend more and more time with him even by your own initiatives, almost forgetting about your friends and family. He just need to push you even more

In his ideal plan you needed to become as much obsessed with him as he with you, maybe even more. Gentaro can be pretty sadistic and he just wants you to be under his full control

The fact that you start to slowly breaking by his pressure makes him more amused, but still.. He's a little inpatient. Just how long you will be like this, just feeling guilty but not cling to him as he's the only one in the whole world that you need to life? Why you still thinking about your friends? Yes, now he can manipulate you to cancel your plans with them but you still text and call them, when you will finally forget about them?

Just when you two will have a really huge fight for the whole evening after what you will suddenly drop on your kneels, crying and begging for his forgiveness, too overwhelmed and tired with all this stress, then he realized what he actually need.

This situation just open his eyes and make him think in a new ways, with a big smirk on his face as he can't forget the tingling feeling inside his whole body as you look up at him with such pathetic face. And the way you grab his legs just so cute and helpless..

So, one day he will simply ask you to come in his house. He just brought a interesting spices and try something new in cooking, the flavor is a little bit strange and now he wants to hear your opinion. Everything will be so regular, you don't even sense a trap that he's already prepare to you.

When you two will sit in his house, you enjoying the food - it's actually have some strange aftertaste but you don't mind, thinking it's just spices, then he suddenly start to talk with his casual calm tone:

"Oh.. I actually didn't tell you how I get this ingredients, huh?" - he's holding a little jar, filled with something, looking at it with playful smile.

"It's from India, and it's maded of herbs, pretty old recipes and very rare one.. Well, one of my friends is related to all this export and import business, so he brings me this little thing for old time's sake. When he gives me this, he tell me a little story, you wanna hear?" - you simply nod, feeling a little bit sleepy after such a warm delicious food - "They tells that long time ago there was a beautiful princess, what lived around people, and terrifying monster, that lived in a lonely forests, all alone. And one day he accidentally see a princess, when she was walking near forest with her entourage and he immediately wanted a princess to be with him, so he collected this herbs, trying to mix them into sedative, so he can kidnaps her and let her live just next to him, all alone together. That's why this spices called... Oh, am I a bad storyteller? Well, anyways, it's all was a lie" - he sigh, looking at you as you're already sleeping peacefully, still holding fork in your arm.

"That worked much faster than I expected, my princess.. Should we begin?"

...

You will awake in unfamiliar place, feel a little bit dizzy. As you slowly look around you realize it's something like a basement, and you're not only chained up but also.. have a collar around you neck...? It's even have the clasp for the collar, just like a dog's or cat's one..!

As you sitting here, absolutely confused, trying to remember what happened yesterday, you suddenly hear as someone slowly get down to your place.

Your eyes widen as you see Gentaro, calm as always, hiding something behind his back, as he get closer to you with his usual smile.

"Already wake up, princess? That's good" - he down on one knee, caressing your cheek lovingly. As soon as you slaps his arm, demanding to explain everything, he will just scoff, his expression immediately change. He don't need to use this mask now anyways.

"I see you actually more bratty then I thought" - he's voice more quiet but his tone make you shiver, it was worse than if he would just scream at you. And this unexpected sadistic gaze that he have now, along with big smirk.. It was so not like him, you get so scared.

"What's wrong, darling? Didn't you just try to hit me?" - he laugh maliciously - "But I'm glad that you're that understanding. That's mean our training will be really successful"

You just look at him, absolutely terrified. You never really know what he wants and what his next step, but this is what attracted you to him, but now.. you have no idea what he will do with you, and that though make you tremble, while he slowly cup you face with both his hands.

"Don't worry, love.. You'll be a good at training. And very soon I will make you my obedient little pet.." - he laugh with sick smile.

"So, tell me, s/o, are you ready to listen for your master?♡"

[END]

[nasuversekinkmeme]

Weekly roundup: prompts

Kara no Kyoukai

Shiki Ryougi using the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception for mundane purposes.

Tsukihime

incest tw, ntr, Shiki/Kohaku explicitly framed as them cucking Hisui and Akiha

Kohaku and Hisui taking drugs together to deal with the Difficulties.

Hisui makes a horrifying discovery about the true nature of the "robots" that are named after her and look suspiciously like her. But on the bright side, it looks like Hisui #47 has more sisters than she thought.

Worried about Shiki's health after he's been bedridden for a couple of days, Akiha is told by Kohaku that Shiki'd contracted a terminal case of sugondeese. Akiha doesn't get the joke and goes around trying to find anyone who can help in complete earnestness.

Fate/Stay Night

smut, EMIYA gets fingerblasted by Artoria while getting his fat slutty tits milked for weeks on end.

Emiya "Ah yes I choose to go by no name instead of my actual name because I hate my name I MEAN FOR TACTICAL REASONS TACTICAL ONES" Shirou has her egg forcibly cracked.

ntr, Saber/Issei framed as both of them cucking Shirou.

EMIYA getting brainwashed and forcefemmed, becomes clingy and dependent to the perpetrator (maybe a master with bigger physique, any gender is fine) AAAHHH i really want to fill this myself but just typing this makes me really embarassed

smut, Fourth Holy Grail War Servant Orgy expressly framed as cucking the Masters and the Holy Grail War itself.

smut, All the Cus show up and consensually gangbang Shirou to death.

smut, guro, Sakura cuts off Shirou's legs, slices his belly open, smashes his testicles before rebuilding them with magic and then proceeds to clone herself so that she could have an ero-guro gangbang with the one she loves more than anything else.

smut, Cock worship feat. Saber's micropenis. Doesn't matter who the worshipper(s) is.

smut, Mordred fucking Guinevere with her giant cock while Artoria watches it while she is tied to the wall, crying with her pathetic micro penis exposed while her wife screams in pleasure

Merlin gives Artoria a micro penis.

We need more of that EMIYA Archer/Saber Artoria goodness, no preference on if its fgo/fsn/fha or fluff or smut as long as Saber loves him for the man he is rather than the boy he was.

smut, Might I ask for Saber and Rin having what starts out as slow tender wedding night lovemaking, and what ends up being Saber breeding Rin hard and fast, because however much they love each other, Rin is impatient, and Saber is needy.

Fate/Zero

a prompt about Iri, Saber and Kiritsugu expressly framed as cucking but nobody can figure out WHOS GETTING CUCKED. (its none of them, theyre all just morons)

I would like some fluff with Iri and Saber as married with Illya and Shirou as their children. Kiritusugu still visits and he stays with the kids during weekends and half of summer vacations, any further details is up to the author

Prisma Illya Kaleid Liner

vamp illya biting miyu, sfw.

Fate/Apocrypha

Sieg is literally cardboard. No questions asked.

smut, Problem: Thanks to the legends about his prowess, Astolfo's dick is big enough that he can't actually get it fully hard without passing out under normal circumstances; he fucks like a champion when possible, but the energy needed is too much for most to provide. Solution: Well, Sieg was made to be a magical energy battery, after all...

Fate/Extra

Hakuno and Rin in any context where they're not doomed by the narrative.

smut, Via some magecraft fuckery Nero's body temporarily changes into that of her evil alternate universe counterpart (mobile 3rd ascension draco) and her wives Hakunon and Tamamo try very hard not to spontaneously combust from lust on the spot

smut, Tamamo no Mae takes advantage of her shapeshift skill, grows a dick, and knots her Master.

Fate/Grand Order

the last scene of Lord Melloi II Case Files where Waver talks with Iskandar in his dream, except its Gudako and Romani

Guda + his partner where they are doomed by the narrative, angst

Olga in her last moments after defeating ORT looks at Ritsuka, she remembered, she remembered everything, she finally realized who she was, before becoming a beast, but its too late, again she is about to disappear and lose everything she worked so hard for

Since all hope is lost for Sita this time around I would like someone to find Rama collapsed (either drunk or just out of depression) and lead him back to his room. Some reminiscing on his wife if possible

Smut, Draco seeing Hakunon after so long shows affection the only way the beast of depravity could, by making Hakunon unleash her load inside her until her maestro's ball are empty

Medb and Emiya are sent to scout a new small singularity together, Emiya keeps getting annoyed at Medb complaining and Medb thinks Emiya is just a boring old man. Through their scouting mission they end up talking about their times alive, getting in trouble and getting to know each other. The girl who desired to be saved by a hero turned into a tyrant, and the boy that wanted to save others and become a hero, now nothing more than a machine. I think they compliment each other so well

medea is on her way back from picking up more craft material for her figure making hobby when she runs into mandricardo, she looks at this teenaged 30 year old man quivering with anxiety and decides hes cute in a mildly pathetic way and decides to take the sopping wet kitten of a man home, maybe its just her having a slight thing for stupid pathetic men but maybe she can help him with that

[baobhan sith voice] mash kyrielight did you fuck my mother

Gudako/Gorgon with some awesome size difference going on (or even edging into macro/micro) Gudako having her large and (terrifyingly) beautiful snirlfriend worshipping her tiny little Master :3

a more vore based version of SERAPH? Meltryllis having to watch as Kiara swallows Guda right in front of her, before being stuffed down the Beast's throat shortly after...

Smut, Ishtar getting her dick sucked by Gudako (or any other girl) and not paying attention to the time. Right when she hits her climax, the sun dips below the horizon, leaving Ereshkigal the one in charge of the body mid-orgasm.

Gorgon voring Robin Hood... Maybe Robin trying to shoot his shot romantically, and Gorgon deciding he's better off as a snack than a date.

Cleopatra/Caesar, preferably some smut with how Caesar historically loved to bottom

After finally ending the lostbelt saga all of chaldea and the servants make a celebration party that goes out of control.

Ritsuka and Cupid Caren being shippers hiding in trashcans to watch dates and matching up servant couples during valentine

Mash and Romani father daughter time! Maybe have him showing her his favorite movies

Tepeu gets DRUGGED

FGO again but tumblr has a character limit for bullet points and I can't trim the prompts any further so I'm splitting it in half

Gudako finally gets sick of Mandricardo’s constant whining and admits she thinks he’s worthless compared to most servants, and that she’s sick of hearing a middle aged man wallow in self pity

smut, boudica turning Nero into her cockslut

Modern AU, Gudako convices Draco to go on a date with her, draco being a cool rock musician

smut, Milf battle. Raikou and Tiamat fighting over Ritsuka. Wrestling, fight fucking, mommy kink.

Vinci Rider is kept awake at night by Vinci Caster loudly fucking Gudao (thinking they’re just wrestling or jumping on the bed)

Slight change of the rules of Chaldea is made so that rather than Arturia Lancer being her own person summoned separately, she's just Saber's mind in a different class container due to experimental magics. She also runs from the labs to Ishtar's room and tells her to put Rin in the driver's seat because Damn Rin, look how much my alter-ego was compressing into her breastplate. Breastplay/envy from both Rin and Ishtar follow, Arturia enjoys being taller and so on.

Tepeu and Kijyo become dinosaur friends

smut, guro, I want Medea to fuck Yan Qing, kill him, cut off his dick and walk around with his dick in her coochie for a week before she brings him back to life and tries to escalate from there.

I want Ritsuka to see Goetia using Romani body and going ballistic, punching the fucker until someone stops her because they know she is kill gonna him given the chance

AU where Flauros somehow got amnesia right after taking over Lev Lainur, causing the demon pillar to believe he's the human he's possessing

smut, how tf could Xiang Yu get pegged by his wife ?

It is Mother's day in Chaldea, and Ritsuka has now to make a party for all of their mom, wich are Da Vinci, Sheba, Raikou, Emiya, Tiamat, Dodrinya, Katou Danzo, Iri, Europa, Helena and Goredolf

smut, ntr, Ntr plot with Yu Mei Ren but the entire time she just complains about how Xiang Yu has a better cock and is nicer in bed, with an annoyed tone of voice.

Ok so in Pokemon, Ninetails (kitsune pokemon with, well, nine tails) has a pokedex entry that states that touching their tails leads to a curse. Anyway we take that, apply to Tamamo, ritsuka doesnt know the legend, and starts brushing her tail one day and unfortunately its curse of being horny. Tl;dr: touch tail get smashed by fox wife. Ritsuka wakes up dehydrated and exhausted the next day.

The GUDAGUDA Gang at Walmart, causing so much chaos. From arguments, fights, to even trying to get snacks on the highest shelf and causing the damn thing to fall-

Despite her best efforts, Barghest feels her instincts to devour her Master beginning to overpower her. The last thing she sees before she loses control is her Master pinned to a wall, looking up at her with a worried expression. When she wakes up the next day, she immediately despairs over what she did, only for her Master to pop up next to her. He comforts her and reassures her that she didn't hurt him, and he won't allow her to hurt him.

Blackbeard, Musashi, and Hokusai face punishment for being creeps towards children

U-olga getting summoned in Olympus rewritten to not just be a joke scene about how short and incompetent Olga is

smut, One of the lancer Artorias going for a horseback ride with Gudako. Except also Gudako is riding her huge dragon dick the whole way.

Guda being lovey dovey with Beast Nero and tiamat cockblocking them at every opportunity

smut, mozart being dommed by salieri and marie antoinette uwu

Castoria's dreams about Saber framed as cucking Knocknarea.

Guda gets to go Postal. Let them have an insane day. Attack people. Probably not any Chaldean staff but I think the servants can take it. Have an incredibly violent psychotic break in a singularity/lostbelt even. Use a badger as a weapon.

Dark Young Ritsuka is big and fluffy and a horrible abomination against nature whose mind is on the edge of sanity. How does everyone else react?

Guda secretly uses a command spell Nemo forcing him to take them to the imaginary numbers space where he suspects a certain someone is. Now knowing it is possible for him to make a contract with a Beast he plans on finding Olga, becoming her master and bringing her back to Chaldea, even if it means becoming an enemy of the human Order. Sadly for them, Alaya does not take this betrayal well and despite all their effort, it ends with Guda and Olga both dying fighting an army countless of servants in each other's arms

Wakchan/U-Olgamarie. Fluff or smut, I just want my dinoman to make the director happy.

Would It be possible to get Yu Mei Ren teaching Gudako to pole dance? (Yu's summer variant very much seems to confirm she knows how, based on her animations). Not intended to be Gudako/Yu, not a fan of NTR in the first place, but if the writer wants to make it some kind of Erotic that's up to them.

Crossover

Led by a transmission in the immediate aftermath of the Earth's bleaching, the remnants of Chaldea reach Baldanders, and are greeted by Sion Eltnam Sokaris, the last remaining member of the Atlas Institute and adoptive daughter of its director... alongside her wife, Riesbyfe Stridberg, a former captain of Knights of the Holy Church.

Crossover fic! Raikou FGO and Raikou Nioh 2 fuck!

Satsuki Yumizuka/Yu Mei-ren as a ship! preferably SFW

I just think heaven's hole demonic bodhisattva kiara sessyoin(fate go/extra) should meet with 'Throughout Heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one' satoru gojo(jujutsu kaisen). they should talk. they should fight. they should have hate sex. i want to see kiara tear through this man with her words and hands. maybe her demonic pillars as well

Mikya, Shirou, Shiki and Hakuno have a nice chat about their apocalyptically strong wives. Meanwhile Ryougi, Sakura, Arcueid and Beast Nero are having a small scale war to see who among them has the best husband

Guda and Beast Nero go on a double date with Hakuno and Normal Nero

smut, With new developments of FGO, Nero Beast has revealed her adult form and that who guided her to us was Hakuno. So after all that suffering she endured or girl deserve to be smashed by both Hakuno and Guda to relieve her stress!

Tepeu just hanging out in Tohno mansion in general, being a good guest to the household, still a dinosaur.

lumine & gudako should get together and have a few beers while they bitch about their brother/ male counterpart keeps hogging the spotlight.

Someone please make a Umineko/Fate crossover

Any fandom

Need more tentacles! Preferably with Gudako! Or Eresh! Or Mash! Or Shuten! Or any of the female cast!

Regardless of the paths they take, of the sacrifices they make, they always find comfort in each other. [Hurt/Comfort] (Shirou variants/Saber variants) No harem, but could reuse characters if doing them at a separate instances of time. Technically asking for a series of different Shirou/Saber pairings, but can also just be one pairing because that's a tall order. Would prefer to see at least Salter/Demiya (Or Edgemiya, whichever naming you prefer) because there's a lack of content for them.

Heartwarming Body Horror. I want a character's inhuman condition to be described, how much they're a monster in the shell of human form, really playing up the unnatural traits. Then I want another character to see all that and go "I love you." and give 'em a hug and kisses and maybe lewds. Shoot me in the feels.

Characters of your choice getting stuck in a cabin together with a storm outside

Pancakes lmao

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

The Chorus in My Head (and Another Real Part I Guess)

I know I have a couple people here who are younger than me by a significant margin, and some people who just don't have a DJ in their head all the time, but anybody remember that Violent Femmes song Lies? Yeah. That is just playing and playing and playing for me for the past week.

I super hate being lied to. And I've been doing pretty well not thinking about how hurt I was last fall, being so consistently and continuously lied to, I think. But for the past week or two, I've been thinking about it. A lot.

And I guess I want to write about writing some. So spoiler alert I guess for the handful (2 maybe 3) folks who are here who haven't read my first book(s).

Probably obviously, the first heroine I wrote in novel form was a lot like me. I mean...she didn't look like me. She didn't meet her eventual partner the same way I did; her partner was a lot different (physically and in small talk details anyway) than J. It's a fictional story still. But I really did work with a bunch of guys at a construction company; most of my old friends are guys (yay! Today is basketball Thursday!); I do tend to be a really blunt communicator and a sunshiney Pollyanna about life a lot of the time. I'm a Look on the Bright Side person. I'm a Glass Half Full person. It's how I survive. Maybe I started thinking about that because of Ke Huy Quan winning the Oscar for Everything Everywhere All At Once (everyone should see that film, for serious). I really related to his character, particularly this scene:

"When I choose to see the good side of things, I'm not being naive. It is strategic and necessary. It's how I've learned to survive through everything. "

And that's part of me that I'm grappling with now too, because my focusing hard on the good in people has often enough ended with me being lied to and hurt. To jump from a great movie to a great book, there's this quote in Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner that I've always related to too:

"And that's the thing about people who mean everything they say. They think everyone else does too."

I'm a lot like Jessica Fielding (eventually Evers). On the insides. Not just her job or who she makes friends with or even that she's probably on the spectrum (because so am I), but I'm a person who means everything I say, and unfortunately, too many times, I've believed everyone else does too. And man, they sure don't.

I'm grateful that this time, the lies I was told didn't REALLY do me any practical harm. I didn't get physically injured. I didn't lose any important relationships with other people. I didn't lose any money. But damned if I'm not wondering if that's where they were headed. I have to get out of 'what if' land (thanks, basketball and my old guy friends today for probably assuring that happens), but right now I'm there. 'What if they were trying to break up my marriage? What if they were going to start asking for money? What if they were going to tear down the repairs I've made with my mom? What if they were going to use information to hurt J's career or keep me from going back to work? What if what if what if...?' I like people who are honest, because then I never have to wonder what if about them or their motives. It's easier to stay on the bright side with them, even when they tell me something dark, because I never have to search through their shadows for the truth. They just shine the light on it for me.

Anyway, time to prepare for what I hope and expect to be a good weekend. Because I'm like that. Go Norse! Go Cats! Go Cougars! (my alma mater; my hometown fandom; my kid's high school mascot)

Maybe I'll stop hearing Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies Lies...stomping through my head soon.

[crescentcityhellmouth-rpg]

Out of Character Information

Name/Alias: Shelby 

Age: 31

NSFW Personal Preference: Fade to Black

Series/Season: season one- season 3

Canon Changes: I have none other then what's already been change.

Activity Level: Other than work and occasional school work I'll pretty much be on. Sometimes i can even do replies, starters at work and post when I get up because I work 12 hour midnights every other weekend schedule.  

Time Zone: EST

RP Experience: I’ve been roleplaying since 2015 also managed a few groups

Best Mode of Contact : Discord

In Character Information

Desired Character: Dean Winchester

Age: 24

OTP / NOTP: Dean x Buffy

Housing: Dean will be living in the institute 

These questions are to be answered in sentence format — each one taking up three to four sentences on average.

01. Give us your thoughts on New Orleans? It's a goddamn shit show.

02. Tell us how you feel about your species, and if you could change it what would you choose to be and why? I hate it, I prefer to be human, not a damn shadowhunter— its not normal.

03. Please describe who is the most person important to you and why? Sam even though he's being stupid right now.

04. Detail a specific point in time that has detrimentally changed you? The death of my mother, that's when everything changed for my family.

05. Explain (a few) bad habit(s) in detail that you’ve picked up over the years, if you remember when you started it describe that pivotal moment as well as what you’ve tried to do to cope with it? Probably lack of trust, and i don't care enough to cope with it

Playlist.

Dust in the Wind — Kansas

Dean relates to this song because he hasn't had a stable home life, and has experienced a lot of death so nothing really matters to him.

Ramble On — Led Zeppelin

This is literally one of the two of Dean’s Favorite songs. They just couldn’t put it on show because Led Zeppelin sucks.

Travelling Riverside Blues — Led Zeppelin

This is literally one of the two of Dean’s Favorite songs. They just couldn’t put it on show because Led Zeppelin sucks.

These songs should describe your character on emotional levels. Try to relate a song to a certain situation he / she has been through or an aspect of their personalities. We prefer you to put at minimum one sentence beneath each of your choices to inform us of your thinking on it, though it isn’t required.

Paragraph sample.

Dean had awoken out of his grave after experiencing immense torture and pain as well as an unquenchable thirst. As breathing was extremely hard at that point, Dean could feel his lungs inhaling and exhaling for air with no luck and crawling out of his grave that he was buried in felt impossible, but he was able to. He didn’t know why he was alive, but his first thought was that Sammy made a deal with a crossroads demon in exchange. His plans were to find a place to get refreshed, because he felt like he was going to die again from thirst. Then he was going to call Sam and Bobby— the problem was that he wasn’t quite sure where he was.

     It wasn’t long before Dean found a Gas Station that looked like it was closed. The eldest Winchester quickly broke into the closed Gas Station that was a couple miles out of New Orleans where he was buried. Dean picked up an ice cold water bottle, and began drinking it. One bottle was down, but he still was thirsty; so he took another one, as he was drinking that one he could feel an agonizing pain starting on his left bicep, so he walked over to a mirror that was hanging in the back of the Cashier station. Dean quickly lifted the black sleeve to his t-shirt and notice a red scorched hand-print that burned in pain when touched. He couldn’t help but wonder how he got that— it was very peculiar, but Dean quickly placed it out of his mind as his stomach began to growl. He pulled his sleeve back down and grabbed a hostess apple pie, and began eating it.

Out of nowhere an unbearable sound began, and well as stuff began to fall off the shelf's of the gas station. Dean grabbed his ears and began groaning in pain. The excessive noise felt like it had been going on forever, and once it had stopped Dean quickly grabbed some pie and water bottles and shoved them in a bag and started to head for the door when he saw a man dressed in all black with longish blonde hair with a symbol on his neck, “dude— ain’t it a little early for Halloween? Whats with that symbol on your neck?”

Comments:

If you have any questions, concerns, or have any suggestions for changes, please use this space to voice them here. This is the free for all section to catch anything that we might not have given room for above. Thank you for taking the time to apply here with us at CCHM! We’re looking forward to having you as steady part of our ever-growing family.  

Disclaimer:

Read through the rules in their entirety, as there are a few sets of instructions contained in them that you must provide here.

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Keep those spirits lifted. (To me too, maybe mostly)    12-31-22

  . 

“All of the perfection nothing will and can be made

The old skin has to shed before the new one sees the day

Opportunities to find the deeper powers in ourselves

Come when life is breathing and seems more than what it is

Go blindly. . . completely . . .” – from Cape of our Hero by Volbeat

 Christmas is over, and with the New Year knocking at our door, for me, it usually feels like the end of…, instead of the beginning of.... But just because these things are over or are coming to an end, doesn’t mean they have to take the joy with them. I’d do well to remember that.

The days, our days are linear. I get that, but the feels . . .not so much. Feelings are more than just to build up to climax and then be gone. They can be here all the year through, like so many of the Christmas songs, and carols suggest they do.

Gratitude can, and should be found in all the places and people that make your heart sad when they're not around. It’s how we find our way back to the joy, and how we keep our hearts full through the rest of the year too!

Now, on with the show. Lol

I do choose some discontent I suppose, because of the people I love, and because of the love I allow.

It's hard to accept a role in the lives of others without some questioning, and some discontent.

The happiness that's also provided by these relationships adds, in favor, to the abundance of joy I feel in my heart already.

Granted there was a lot of compromise made by me to fit into a society and culture I used to believe had it in for me.

That compromise(s) added a lot of peace, like a lot, a lot of peace to my life.

And now, I compromise where I feel I can and where I feel I can't I absolutely won't.

I have drawn conclusions to the effect of . . .that society doesn't have it in for me individually anyway, but it does for larger groups of people I feel, either a part of, or . . .a longing for, or maybe “feel for” is a better description.

I'll suck it up and share a little discontent for those I love. It keeps me here and grounded, reminding me constantly who I am and where I come from and it also helps me to continue walking ahead of those that I wish paid more attention to my current footsteps.

I am still, and always will be, only human. Therefore, I'll never be above feelings of irritation, frustration, stress, and that discontentment. Unless I eliminate loving others, which isn't an option, it'll never be completely gone, but they can be fleeting. Learnedly, mind you, but fleeting nonetheless.

All those negative feelings are, just like all the rest of my feelings, controlled by my thoughts, which can be changed and altered. Learned behaviors, and changed thinking is part of my journey and continued growth.

I hope to one day be able to dismiss them before ever acting on them, even a little. A twist of the face is even too much.

Peace is so important to me; you have no idea. But love, love is most important.

Compromise where I can for it, recognize where I fall short of it, because a heart full of resentment will never be as easily swayed as the one that feels loved.

Forgiving myself for all the times, old and new, where I didn’t meet the bar I set, is pretty crucial too.

. . . .

That was a lot to empty out.

How was that the first thing in my head this early Wednesday morning? Lolol The first down day following a pretty long holiday weekend helps I suppose.  

A little rest and relaxing here at home for today.  

I don't know if I'll add to this before Saturday or not, but either way.

Rolling over into another new year means the shedding of some of the old and stepping into some new.

Maybe sleeping in a bit helped. I got frustrated a couple times over the weekend and it's the most important weekend of the year to show love and patience, I think maybe subconscious recognition wasn't enough. I needed to see it in black n white.

So here we are. Lol no lol

I'm going to close for now. Be back in a few days.  

. . .

Hope everyone was/is gentle with those struggling through the holidays, with whatever their struggle is . . .grief, or drugs, or some trauma.

Some more of that love will come in handy.

If you look out on the world in only contempt you will surely miss the best pieces.

If you look out on the world through eyes of compassion, you won't just see others, you'll get to feel them too.

Pieces turn to peace(s) when we are one.

What's that . . .saying(?) Just walking each other home?  

To me the home is of your choosing, but the walking is obviously the most important part. Take my hand and I will walk with you too.

I guess that’s it for this week. We are still in Happy Holidays territory, but also Happy New Years to you all. May this next year enlighten us all in ways we never dreamed.

Share the love and the laughter from the season with loved ones, and stay safe, stay warm, and make good choices, especially to those that may be partying a little harder than the rest of us.

Be smart, not a statistic.

Next entry will be from inside the new year!

 Until next week;

“After all it is those who have a deep and real inner life who are best able to deal with the irritating details of outer life.” - Evelyn Underhill

[dreamingofaizawa]

Good Kitty

Shouta Aizawa x Chubby! Kitty Hybrid! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18, leave. Thank you.

Warnings: Kitty hybrid reader, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink (?), reader has insecurities, Shouta is soft and lowkey feral?, chubby kink (sorta), reader has a heat for the first time, barely implied virginity loss, a touch of dacryphilia

Word Count: 2.4 k

Author’s Note: This is inspired by @cupcake-rogue ’s fic Not Allowed on the Bed. I got permission to use it as inspo so here we are! Tbh the orignal had me feeling all sorts of feelings because, as a very subby sub that loves to please, I definitely have a praise kink and I WILL CRY if I’m called a bad girl. HOWEVER, Katsuki being the rough-around-the-edges guy he is wanting reader regardless of size made me very happy and warm and fuzzy. 

The premise with this is pretty much the same, except I made reader a kitty hybrid...and of course I wrote for Shouta, love of my life he is. I’m such a fucking simp. I’m not the biggest fan of the ending, but this has been sitting in my WIPs for too damn long and it’s decent enough for me to feel ok posting it.

Also, for reference, reader has black fur regardless of hair color. Reader could be blonde, but still have black ears and tail. That’s just the way I’ve chosen to write this for some reason, don’t ask me why, I’m weird like that. 

I think this is the first time I’ve written for a hybrid, so cut me a little slack.

Anywho, enjoy~

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You can’t remember life outside the shelter. You’d grown up here, the caretakers said they’d found you on the street as a nearly newborn kitten and immediately scooped you up and brought you back here. That was a long time ago. Now you sit, waiting, your hopes for getting adopted diminishing with every passing day.

It’s unfortunate, but you still haven’t been adopted. It’s not that you’re bad, you always behave, you make sure you do. But you’ve overheard time and time again the people that gazed down at you and whispered about how you were too chunky, too big and too squishy for a kitty hybrid. And some even called you bad luck. The pitch black fur on your ears and tail warded off many.

Today was just the same as any other day. Wake up, get fed, wait in your room while potential owners pick and choose not you. Adults and children alike would take chunks out of their time to play with you, but they all left the shelter with another smaller cat. It was nearing bed time now, dinner just finished and the caretakers were about to start closing when the little bell on the front door jingled. Someone had just come in. You ignored it all the same.

Two pairs of footsteps began making their way past rooms, whoever it was that had entered smelled good, like coffee and tree bark. A smooth hum accompanied the caretaker’s voice, it made your ears twitch and tail sway gently. Still, you decided to just curl up in bed and try to sleep. The chance of him adopting you was slim, if it existed at all.

As you lay there your ears pick up their footsteps, the lazy set that dragged familiar, the nearly silent set less so. You listened as they came closer, never stopping as the man strode past each room and peered in the windows. You waited for them to pass right by your room, as they had been, but suddenly the footsteps halted. The caretaker spoke first.

“Y/n? You awake?” You let your eyes flutter open and sat up, tucking your legs under you and sitting up straight. They asked the man if he wanted to go in and see you, and he gave a simple nod. When he entered you finally looked up at him. The first thing you noticed were his eyes, tired and bloodshot with dark circles beneath them, a deep scar curved under his right eye. His long black hair fell around his shoulders, swaying lightly with every measured step he took toward you.

He stopped right in front of you, a large hand stretching out and you give it a small sniff before nudging your head into it, letting him pet your hair and scratch at the base of your ears. It felt nice to be getting attention like this. A small purr sounded in your chest, your tail gently swishing behind you.

“How long have you been here?” His voice is deep and calm, tired even, but it sounds so welcoming. It’s so soothing to your sensitive ears, like a warm blanket. You give a small hum before answering.

“A long time. I don’t remember anything outside this place.” At that he raised an eyebrow, turning to the caretaker with a questioning look.

“Most people look for...specific traits in the cat hybrids. Y/n here is well behaved, a perfect house kitty really,” you purred a bit at the praise, “But she’s a little larger than most. And her black fur wards off the more superstitious.” The man gives a curious hum before looking back down at you.

“Do you want to come home with me, kitty?” The question caught you a little off guard. Nobody really asked the hybrids if they wanted to go with them. You looked over to the caretaker, who nodded their head with a gentle smile, encouraging you to answer. All you could do was give a small nod, and soon you were in the car, on the way to your new home.

He’d told you to call him Shouta. He was nice, always quiet and never got mad. He never smiled, but you supposed that’s just the way he is. He gave you your own room, and always let you rub up on him when you wanted to, taking the opportunity to pet you. Occasionally you got the odd kiss on the forehead when you nuzzled into his neck. Those always made you purr. He never came seeking you out, which was good since there were times you really didn’t want to be touched. 

The longer you’re with him the closer you get, and you find yourself doing things you’d never thought to do before. Sometimes you found the floor more comfortable than the couch, and would kneel down and rub up on his leg, your tail wrapping around his ankle. There were times you’d see his fingers idly drumming on his lap, and you’d lay down and nibble on one with your little fang-like canines. He didn’t seem to mind that little oral fixation, and he always let you do whatever you wanted. All in all, life with Shouta is great.

But today you feel weird. You’d been cooped up in your room for the first hour or so of the weekend morning, not quite wanting to go out and make it known something was off. But it’s gotten abnormally hot, your face and chest especially warm, and between your legs as well. Your panties are beginning to feel damp, your thighs starting to feel humid and sticky. It’s a little uncomfortable. And your tummy is starting to boil, neediness beginning to cloud your mind. This never happened at the shelter.

Reluctantly, you step out of bed onto slightly wobbly legs and peek your head out of your door to see him sitting on the couch, a book in hand and a mug of coffee on the table. His hair is loose, his strong lean body relaxed as he read. The sight of him and his scent made the feeling worse, made your panties and thighs wetter, your chest beginning to heave with your panted breaths. 

“Sh-shouta…” Your voice came out shakier and quieter than you wanted it to, but he’d heard you regardless. He closed the book and peered over at your shaking form in the doorway.

“What is it kitty?” You nearly mewled at his voice, his heavenly smooth baritone sending a shiver down your spine through to the tip of your tail.

“Something’s wrong...I feel weird…” As you tell him about everything that’s happening to your body, he’s dragging his eyes over you, taking in every detail. Soon he’s on the phone with the doctor, you can’t quite comprehend his words, only catching snippets. ‘Help’ and ‘how long’, followed by agreeing hums. It was all jumbled after that, your mind refusing to focus as you leaned heavily on the doorframe, your quivering legs barely able to hold your body.

Shouta’s large hand came up and cupped your cheek, letting you nuzzle into his palm. When had he hung up the phone? He ordered you to sit on the bed, and you obliged, watching as he swept up his hair into a loose bun and strode over, tilting your chin to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He’s so close, his scent overwhelming and making your brain fuzzy.

“You’re in heat, kitty.” Heat...where had you heard that before? Back at the shelter, maybe? It was all a distant, unfocused memory right now. Shouta leaned down and kissed you sweetly, lips melding with yours as you purred and mewled, your tail thrashing behind you. His hands tugged at your clothes until you were bare before him, every inch of you on display. 

“You’re such a pretty kitty, you know that? So beautiful. Lay down for me.” The praise made you purr, made a chill crawl up your spine and your tail flick wildly. You obeyed the command, laying flat in the middle of the bed and he slotted himself between your legs, plunging two fingers into your tight hole. He let out a groan, pumping and scicssoring his fingers to stretch you out. You were already a sloppy mess, loud squelches ringing through the room in between your loud, whiny mewls and panting. 

It felt so good, the heat in your belly burning and tightening until Shouta’s fingers curled up into a spot that made stars dance in your vision. The pressure in your belly snapped hard, your legs trembling as he kept fingering you through it. His fingers slowed when you whined about it being too much, too sensitive. But you still felt hot all over, now it was worse, you wanted something so bad but you didn’t know what.

He got up and undressed himself and you licked your lips at his naked body, scarred skin pulled taut over thick muscle. What stood between his legs had heat spreading like fire through your body. You’d never seen a naked man before. He was quick to return to you, slotting his hips between your thighs and guiding the thick head of his cock along your soaked folds. 

“Relax kitty. I’m gonna make you feel good.” You gave a small nod and then he was pushing his thick cock inside you, groaning at the way your pussy clamped down on him. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as he slowly pushed and pumped his hips, cock dragging along your wet warm walls perfectly. Mewls slipped past your lips, high pitched whines and pants like music in Shouta’s ears. 

His hands wandered over your body, squishing and pulling at every piece of you he could get his calloused fingers on. It made you squirm beneath him, your own hands trying to push his away, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head in one strong hand, then went right back to groping your body with his free one.

“I can’t have you stopping me from touching you, kitty.” That’s all he said before focusing back on your body. He tugged at your belly, your sides, every place that was fatty and squishy. He’d never admit out loud how much he loved how soft you are. You’re perfect, plump and meaty, just more for him to touch, to look at, more to squeeze and pinch and pull.

He groaned out as you whined beneath him, tears beginning to clump in your lashes because he just kept squeezing, and he isn’t fucking you hard enough. Your orgasm built slowly with his languid pace, not nearly enough to get you to that peak and you were frustrated because you wanted relief but it wouldn’t come. Shouta picks up on your hips jerking and rolling, trying to get him to fucking move faster. He pulled his hips back and slammed back in, setting a brutal pace and making you whine high and long. 

Tears begin to fall from the sheer ecstasy of it, and he’s realizing how much he loves to see you cry from the pleasure he can give you. With a groan, he’s releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your breasts and biting and sucking at your skin as he pounds you into the mattress. He isn’t normally an impulsive man, wouldn’t let himself let go like this. But for you. For you he’d give in to his lust and ravage you like you need him to.

Your orgasm slams over your body like a tsunami, your muscles locking up and a loud yip ringing from your throat, pleasure making your whole body shake. Shouta let out a hiss, your nails digging into the muscles in his back furiously, but he wouldn’t stop for that. He never stuttered in his pace, just kept ramming his hips into yours, heavy balls slapping against your ass and lewd squelches coming from where your bodies are connected. 

You’re overstimulated, throat feeling raw and tears still falling down your heated cheeks as you thrash from another orgasm, this one just as powerful as the last and making your vision spot black. This time Shouta leans back, wrapping a hand around your throat and licking the salty trails away.

“Such a good little kitty for me, so good.” With a few more thrusts he’s spilling inside you, and you can feel the warmth spread in your belly as you lay there, boneless. He lays down on top of you, both of you sweaty and tired and he starts whispering sweet words into your twitching ears.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, kitten.” 

“Such a good girl for me.”

“You’re all mine, kitty. So good, all for me.” Tears begin to spill from your eyes for a different reason. Up until now you’d lived your life believing nobody wanted you because there was something wrong with you. You never felt ugly, never really felt like there was something truly wrong with you, but you always felt...unwanted. Unloved. Unlovable. 

But Shouta makes you feel wanted, and loved, and pretty and all the things you always assumed you didn’t deserve. You’re his kitty now, and you’re such a good kitty for him too. He’s showering you with affection that you’d never known before and you’re shaking from all the overwhelming emotions. He can feel your body quivering, leans back to look at you and cups your face in his warm palm.

“What’s wrong, kitten? Why are you crying?” Your nose twitches as you sniffle, which he mildly notes is fucking adorable.

“Do you mean it? Am I a good kitty?” His eyebrows furrow and he rolls the both of you over so you’re on top of him. He’s peering into your big sad eyes as if reading your soul through them, trying to read the emotions you’re feeling, but it isn’t hard for him to figure out what’s racing through your mind. You nuzzle your nose into his neck and breathe in his scent, his hand coming up to pet your hair and ears.

“Of course, kitten. You’re such a good kitty.” The small reassurance makes you feel warm and happy, your tail flicking softly before curling around both your leg and Shouta’s, the end brushing his skin gently. You can’t help but want to stay with Shouta forever.

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

[helloalycia]

a bitch [one] // leigh shaw

summary: you're used to leigh's constant mood swings and unpredictability, but didn't expect she'd ever do something to hurt you like she did.

warning/s: cheating

author's note: an angsty leigh shaw imagine was requested, so here we are! there's one more part to this so enjoy 😊

part two | masterlist | wattpad

Leigh Shaw could be a very unpredictable woman.

Ever since the unfortunate death of her husband, Matt, she'd become very erratic. It was hard to remember what she was like before he died, but then she'd flash me a smile and say something adorable and I remembered. Other times though, she could be as explosive as they came. If you ever got swept up in her mood swings, you'd be screwed.

Despite this, I remained by her side. That's what best friends did. Even when she yelled at me or gave me the cold shoulder or treated me like dirt, I stayed because I knew that was what she needed.

One time, a few months after Matt's death, I was stopping by to see how she was. A prime example of the cold effect she could have on people.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door suddenly swung open, revealing a peeved Jules and a pissed Leigh further behind her in the hallway.

"Hey," I greeted her sister with a smile, but she moved past me moodily. I glanced at Leigh before catching Jules' arm, stopping her. "What happened?"

Jules smiled bitterly. "You know, you should reconsider where you put your care, Y/N. Some people just aren't worth it."

At that last part, she glared over my shoulder, no doubt at Leigh. I turned to look at Leigh, who merely stuck a middle finger up at her sister before storming towards to the kitchen.

"What a bitch," Jules mumbled, making me wince because it was such a horrible word.

Jules shook me off before marching to her car to leave. I sighed and turned around to let myself in to their house. Closing the door behind me, I followed after Leigh and found her making toast in the kitchen angrily.

"Hey," I began softly, not wanting to give her another reason to get pissed off. Sitting on a stool at the island, I asked, "What happened?"

She forced a smile as she grabbed her toast from the toaster and dropped it on a plate. "My sister can't respect my space is all."

I pursed my lips awkwardly, watching as she grabbed butter from the fridge. Noticing my silence, she glanced up at me through her eyelashes.

"What?" she deadpanned, pausing from her actions.

"I don't think Jules is trying to upset you," I began, knowing I'd probably regret it. "I'm sure she understands you want space, but she loves you. And when you see someone you love hurting, you feel like you have to do something."

A sour smile broke out on her face as she scoffed. "Wow. Could you have your head stuck any further up Jules' arse?"

"Leigh, that's not what I'm–"

"What the hell are you even doing here?" she snapped. "I didn't invite you, Y/N."

Tensing my jaw, I refrained from getting annoyed. "Believe it or not, I actually wanted to check on you."

She curled her lips into a frown. "Well, I'm fine."

As if to prove that she was, she continued to butter her toast, but when she set her knife down, it slipped off the edge of the table and clattered to the floor. Frustrated, she slammed a fist on the countertop.

"It's okay, I'll–"

"Just get out," she cut me off when I was making a move to help her. I paused, wondering if she meant it, then her deadly green glare settled on my face. "Leave."

Sighing with defeat, I nodded and wordlessly left.

—

Sometimes Leigh wouldn't apologise. She'd act like nothing had happened and we'd move on. Other times, she actually would, surprisingly recognising that she'd done something wrong.

There was this one time when I'd invited her over for the evening to eat dinner and watch some films. The dinner went perfectly fine – we talked, we laughed, we spent time together – but then when we settled in the living room to watch a film, things started to unravel.

I can't remember exactly what she'd said. One second we were choosing a film on Netflix, then she was trying to make plans with me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I already had plans with my girlfriend, Alex, and Leigh didn't seem to like this. She'd made a comment under her breath and though I don't remember it specifically, I knew it wasn't polite.

Before I knew it, we were screaming at each other, arguing over the dumbest things. It started off being about my girlfriend and then the most unrelated stuff was being brought up on both of our ends. Sometimes she could be so aggravating, managing to rile me up and bring the worst out in me. The argument lasted a few minutes before she left, leaving me seething and full of hurt.

It was the following day at work when she came to see me next. I owned a café a few doors down from her mother's dance studio and was working a shift when her sister came through the front door.

I smiled at her when she approached the counter dressed in gym gear, her usual getup when at work with her family.

"Hey, how're you doing, Jules?" I asked.

"I'm good," she greeted with a smile, before it faded. "Just a warning, Y/N, Leigh is incoming in one minute. She wants to apologise."

Eyes rolling with mild annoyance, I let out a sigh. As dreadful as our spat was last night, I knew I had to also apologise to her. I'd said some hurtful things that made me feel all icky inside. Going to sleep after a fight was never a nice feeling.

"I don't know how you've put up with her for this long," Jules commented, picking up a cupcake from the display. "She can be so horrible to you."

I frowned, not feeling comfortable talking badly of Leigh behind her back. "That's not fair, Jules. You know what she's going through."

Jules gave me a knowing look. "I do, but that doesn't give her a free pass to treat you like she does."

Shrugging, I busied myself with cleaning up the crumbs from Jules' cupcake and giving her a plate.

"I take it you're going to forgive her then," she stated, though she definitely knew the answer judging from her expression.

"We both said some things we shouldn't have," I tried to explain so it didn't seem like I was giving in so easily, which deep down, I definitely knew I was, but Leigh was worth it.

Jules chuckled. "Yep, you're forgiving her. Looks like it's Leigh's lucky day."

I didn't say anything as she picked up the plate, ready to take a seat at one of the tables. Just as she was about to leave, she paused thoughtfully.

"You know, if you didn't have a girlfriend already, I'd say you were whipped," she said casually.

Ignoring her words, I watched her take her a seat on one of the spare tables. She made jokes like that a lot, but the truth was that I would probably do anything for Leigh. We'd been best friends since university – that was way too long to simply throw away our friendship because she was going through a tough time. And yes, the girlfriend talk threw me off at times... by the time I'd realised I liked Leigh as more than a friend, she was engaged. And I got over it, but Jules continued with the jokes and I continued to dismiss it.

As Jules warned, Leigh entered the café and caught my eyes with a nervous smile. I returned it, just as nervous as she looked, before watching her approach the counter. She was dressed in gym gear, like her sister, but a fine layer of sweat coated her skin which made me think she may have just finished teaching a class.

"Hey," she said with a rare gentleness to her voice. Her hands rested on the counter, fumbling slightly, before she put them by her sides instead. "How are you?"

Uncomfortably, I played with a loose thread on my apron. "I've been better, not gonna lie."

She exhaled regretfully. "I want to apologise, Y/N. Last night... it wasn't fair what I did. Just snapping at you like that."

I didn't know what to say, so I stayed quiet and avoided her eyes.

"I just get so angry sometimes," she admitted, noticing I wouldn't speak. She sounded exhausted and I looked up to see her running a hand through her hair. "I can't explain it. My anger at you wasn't about Alex or the plans, it was just me."

"It's because you're still hurting," I told her what I'd observed, shoulders relaxing. "And you're not very good at expressing that."

She shook her head, eyes drifting to the till distractedly. "I should be because I keep hurting the people I love."

My heart ached at the devastation in her voice and I put my hand out, motioning for her to take it. Thankfully, she did and I squeezed hers gently.

"Look, let's just forget it happened," I said with a small smile. "I... I didn't exactly say the nicest of things either."

She grimaced, letting go of my hand. "No, I get why you said it. It wasn't fair of me to just start on you like that. You were just defending your girlfriend... God, I can be such a bitch sometimes."

I winced at the word, it grating my ears. "That's not true, Leigh."

"It is." She nodded slowly, rolling her eyes. "Everybody thinks it. Including you."

"I don't think that," I said with creased brows, meeting her saddened eyes. "You're not a bitch. I've never once thought that."

"Really?" She raised a brow, smiling with defeat. "Not even that time when I stole your doughnuts after that fight we had two weeks ago?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Not even when I snapped at you for no reason the other day when you tried to help me write my article?"

"Not even then."

Her expression softened with guilt. "Not even when I called you a selfish jerk last night for not wanting to spend time with me even though you have a life of your own?"

I rounded the counter and stopped before her, looking between her guilt-ridden eyes. "Especially not then, Leigh."

She breathed out quietly and I pulled her in for a hug, glad when I felt her relax beneath me. Her arms clasped around my waist and I was glad we were good again.

—

It was a year later when Leigh and I eventually got together as a couple. It was a long time after I broke up with my girlfriend and it was completely unexpected.

I'd invited Leigh to be my 'date' to my mum's birthday party, since the two had gotten on so well in the past. She was happy to oblige, but as soon as we arrived, her mood changed.

I was helping collect the pizzas from the delivery guy when he started to flirt with me. At the time, I didn't even realise, but I knew that Leigh had acted different since it happened. When I finally confronted her about her sudden mood swing, she proceeded to make out with me completely unexpectedly and then admitted she was in love with me.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a good time. Since breaking up with my girlfriend, I'd been single and falling for my best friend all over again. Leigh making the first move was all I'd needed to finally share how I felt, too.

That was six months ago, and since then, we'd been going strong. Of course, there were still times when she had her mood swings and took it out on me (and literally everyone else) without realising, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I was used to it, used to her. So much that I should have trusted her even when presented with conflicting evidence.

We were at her workplace, Basically News, where she wrote columns part-time. It was a work party she'd been invited to and she'd asked me to be her date, which of course I said yes to. At the moment, we may or may not have been a little tipsy as we stood in the corner, drinking from flutes of champagne.

"Thank you again for coming here tonight as my date," Leigh said with a grin, arms laced around my neck as she held me close.

Pressing a kiss to my lips briefly, she pulled away and left my head spinning, and not just because of the alcohol.

"Any excuse to not be on the closing shift at work is good enough for me," I said playfully, resting my hands behind her waist.

She gasped. "Oh? So it wasn't me who persuaded you to come tonight?"

I pulled a face, feigning forgetfulness. "Hmm, I'm not too sure. Maybe you'll have to remind me why I agreed to come."

She bit her lip to contain her grin, eyes flickering to my lips. Leaning in, her lips met mine and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way she combed her hand through my hair and tilted my head towards her so she could get better access. She was a really good kisser and she knew the effect she had on me as I felt her smirk into it, catching her breath, before chasing down my lips and nibbling on them temptingly.

Remembering where we were, I gently pushed her back and tried to contain my smile. "Make it PG, Leigh. You're at work."

She licked her lips and began to laugh, green eyes darting between mine. "You're just so cute."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I don't want everyone here knowing how irresistible you are or they might try to steal you away."

Her laughter filled the air, making my stomach flip at the sound.

"Though I think they may already know that because of how sexy you look tonight," I added, eyes fluttering down her body to appreciate just how well she pulled off her fitted black dress.

She raised her brows with surprise, making me mirror her expression comically.

Leaning close to my ear, she said above a whisper, "D'you wanna know something not-so-sexy?"

Her breath tickled my ear and sent shivers down my spine, making me tense up slightly. Judging from the expression on her face, she was very much aware of what she was doing to me.

"What?" I asked with amusement.

"I really need to pee," she said, and I began to laugh because she did, too, and I knew she wasn't kidding. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she added, "I'll be right back."

Letting go of me, she waved goodbye before going to the toilets. I busied myself with getting to know her colleagues whilst I waited, until five minutes had passed and I realised she still hadn't returned. Deciding to check on her, I headed in the direction of the toilets, only to freeze when I saw something I definitely wasn't expecting.

Leigh was kissing another girl outside of them.

It was her colleague, Abby, that was the first thing I noticed. But I didn't stay to make out anything more as I immediately turned around and walked away, trying to make my brain catch up to what I'd just seen.

Leigh was kissing somebody else. Somebody that wasn't me. Somebody who I had always suspected had a thing for her, but I never considered that maybe Leigh had a thing for her, too.

Definitely not tipsy anymore, I found the nearest table and took a seat, trying not to assume the worst. But how else could I perceive what I'd just seen? It could have been a mistake, though I was so shocked and hurt and angry that I couldn't imagine how. Maybe she'd explain herself to me. Or maybe she'd tell me what actually happened. Maybe.

Leigh returned not long after, finding me at the table. Smiling like nothing had happened, she pulled me up and led me to dance. Not once, for the remainder of the evening, did she suggest that anything was out of the ordinary, nor did she explain herself. And I couldn't help but wonder how I had the worst luck with women.

This one hurt way more than the last time because it wasn't just anyone – it was Leigh.

—

A year and a half ago:

"Danny mentioned the breakdown you had last week because they didn't have doughnuts, so I, er, brought you these just in case."

Leigh cracked a small smile in the passenger's seat before accepting the box I held out to her. I'd just parked up outside the place where she went to her grief counselling group, having offered to drop her off. It had only been a few months since Matt died, but sometimes, the old Leigh shone back through and it made me feel hopeful that she'd make it through this.

"Thank you," she said genuinely, fingers wavering on top of the box, before she lifted her gaze to meet mine. "And thanks for the ride. You didn't have to."

I shrugged, thumb tapping the steering wheel mindlessly. "I don't mind. I just wanna make sure you get here okay."

She sighed, shaking her head, though a ghost of a smile was on her lips.

"Text me when you're done and I'll be happy to pick you up, too," I added casually.

"Thanks," she repeated, though didn't make a move to leave my car just yet. I didn't rush her.

Sadly, the silence was broken when my phone began to ring and my girlfriend's name flashed on the screen in my car where my phone was connected to. Glancing at Leigh, I just about made out the eye-roll she did.

"Sorry," I apologised, before declining the call instantly.

"Why d'you do that? Could've been urgent," she said with a clipped tone.

Oh, no, I thought. Whenever she used that tone, it meant she was picking a fight.

"I'm here with you," I said like it was obvious, hoping that one thing didn't ruin the moment.

She tensed her jaw, looking down as her hair fell around her face. "Whatever."

Before I could think of a way to make her feel better, the screen lit up again and my ringtone echoed through the car. I winced at the glare Leigh sent to the screen. If looks could kill, my car would be toast.

Declining the call, I looked to her worriedly. "What's wrong, Leigh?"

Her glare fell to me. "Why the hell do you keep declining it? She's calling you for a reason."

I raised my eyebrows. "Because I'm here with you? Alex can wait. I'm taking you to grief group."

"Well, I'm here at grief group," she mocked, turning to face me with an unexplainable frustration.

I didn't understand why she was so touchy all of a sudden. The car ride here, she'd been fine. Just a moment ago, she'd been fine. But now... now she was acting unreasonable.

My phone buzzed in my pocket suddenly, followed by a tone that signalled I had a text. Leigh smiled bitterly, rolling her eyes.

"Let me guess," she muttered. "It's her."

Still very much unable to keep up with her mood swings, I didn't answer. Her gaze snapped to mine as she stared at me with disbelief.

"Why the fuck aren't you checking it?!"

I grimaced, my own exasperation slipping out when I blurted, "I'm a little confused to what you want from me right now, Leigh!" Breathing out slowly, I said, "I'm sorry if this is bothering you. I'll turn off my phone next time."

As if I'd deeply offended her, she raised a brow incredulously. "Are you kidding me? Why would this bother me?"

Okay, I was extremely confused now.

"I don't know," I admitted, bewildered.

"Is that what you think of me? Some clingy bitch who won't let you live your life?"

I widened my eyes. "What?! Leigh! I never said–"

"Sorry if taking me is such a task," she said abruptly, moving to put the box of doughnuts on the dashboard.

"I never said that," I told her sternly.

"You didn't have to. I know already. I'm just a burden on everyone."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Meanwhile, my confusion was still trying to make out what the hell just happened.

"Don't bother picking me up," she said through the open window of the passenger's door. A scowl was on her face as she added, "You should go spend time with Alex. She's probably missing you."

Breathing out, I leaned back into my seat and watched her walk away and to the entrance of the building. When she acted like this – so push and pull with her emotions – I was so conflicted. What could possibly be going on in her mind that she managed to flip everything that just happened? A complete 180?

Knowing she'd just need some time to cool off, I shook my head and focused on leaving. But then I remembered my phone went off and pulled it out to see what was so important. Aside from two missed calls from Alex, I saw I had a voicemail, too, not a text.

Grumbling fo myself, still disgruntled by Leigh's attitude, I raised the phone to my ear to have a listen, whilst hoping it wasn't actually anything life-threatening.

At first, all I could hear was some very faint laughing and vague noises, kind of like material rubbing together and breathing. I assumed Alex had left me a voicemail without even realising since I'd done that countless of times to other people, having dropped my phone in my bag without realising it was still on. But then the noises became more distinct and I made out words.

"Jake, stop messing about," a voice said, whom I instantly recognised as my girlfriend.

I furrowed my brows. Jake? Jake as in the guy she worked with Jake?

"If you stop teasing me then maybe I will," a gravelly yet devious voice responded.

My throat went dry when I heard more laughter before it went quiet. It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening, especially when the moans that followed echoed in my ear, begging me not to forget.

Unable to listen anymore, I hung up and threw my phone onto the passenger's seat. Tears welled in my eyes as I glanced over at it hesitantly, almost wishing it hadn't even existed. And as much as I didn't want to accept the glaring fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

She was cheating on me.

[zeroweeenies]

friends with benefits, megumi x reader? (make it long please, i just finished giving my final exams)

I bet you did amazing <3

“Not So Bad After All”

Desc: turns out megumi isn’t as bad as he seems.

Character(s): Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.1K

WARNINGS: belly bulge, praise, blood (non sexual), enemies to friends with benefits, aged up megumi, 18+ minors dni

You loved Fridays. You loved Saturdays even more. You loved that you could relax unwind on your couch and watch your favorite shows with a beer, especially after a long week of classes.

So when your weekly alleviation was interrupted Friday morning with your mom asking you to help Fushiguro and his dad to help you move into their new house next to you, you were pissed.

Now here you were, carrying heavy ass boxes like a factory worker, and for the likes of Fushiguro at that. You’ve known him ever since you both were small kids since his dad Toji and your mom were best friends in high school.

Unlike your parents, you and Fushiguro didn’t have the greatest friendship, hell you two didn’t have a friendship at all.

Most of your encounters only ever occurred because of the connection between your parents, and because you both attended the same University.

He was just so damn annoying, always shooting you dirty looks or teasing you about how you looked. You wondered how he could make fun of your appearance when he had that weird ass hair.

You weren’t just gonna let them get the last laugh, oh no. There was no possibility that he was going to fuck with you and you let it slide.

So whenever you around Fushiguro, you made it your life’s mission to fuck up his whole day. Whether it be with a snarky comment or scribbling all over his homework, you had to find some way to piss him off.

You huff as you set the heavy box down, moping to your mom. “why do I have to be here?”

She hoists the box up from the moving truck as if it were a feather. “Because we,” she grunts, “are good people who help our friends out.”

“Fushiguro is not my friend.” you scoff at her words. “I think you’re getting delusional, ma.”

She stops as she sets the box down at the doorstep, holding her finger up in your direction.

“Watch your mouth.” she says in a warning tone.

“Don’t think just because you’re in college that you’re too old for a beating, little girl.”

“And go get the boys, they should be out here helping, too.” she sends you off, returning to the truck to retrieve more boxes.

You kiss your teeth, waving her off. “Whatever.”

“What was that?” she chirps from inside the vehicle, daring you to repeat your words.

“I said I love you mom!” you rush into the house, managing to avoid her.

You walk into the house in search of Fushiguro and his dad when you spot him on the couch watching tv. You almost scoff at the sight of the tall boy just sitting there while you’re outside working your ass off.

Walking up to him, you smack the side of his head, causing him to hold that very spot. “ouch! what the fuck!?”

“This isn’t the fucking moving company, you need to be outside helping.” you point towards the exterior of the house with your thumb, one arm across your chest as it propped up your elbow.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” he rubs the side of his head as he stands up.

“Where’s your hot dad at shitty hair?” you teased, knowing he would get mad. Fushiguro hated two things: people talking about his dad, and people talking about his hair. To your surprise, he didn’t snap at you. Instead, he snapped back at you in the same tone.

“In the kitchen arranging the appliances, how about your hot mom moon face? i think i wanna pay her a little visit,” he shot back, leering down at you.

This is exactly what you were talking about. Fushiguro always had some smart comment to throw at you. Whatever you threw at him he ended up throwing it back ten times harder, and you couldn’t stand it. You couldn’t stand him.

Especially the moon face remark, and to think you had stopped being insecure about that.

You roll your eyes at him, storming off to the kitchen to find his dad. You walk in to see him putting away appliances in the cabinets, the sweat from his toned body making his shirt cling to his body. He looked good.

You knocked at the wall announcing your presence, practically foaming at the mouth as Toji spun around to face you from where he was standing. He chuckled when he noticed the way you were looking at him, wiping the pooling sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

Fushiguro’s dad had always been good looking, you knew it ever since you were younger. It’s not like you were in love with the guy or anything, it was just an innocent little school girl crush that you developed. Besides, he was way out of your age range to begin with.

“What’s up kiddo?” he scruffs up your hair. Despite being so tough on his son, the man always had a soft spot for you. It was almost like you were a second child to him.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” you pout “and mom needs you outside to help with the boxes” you say with ire in your voice.

You were a little annoyed that the man still saw you as a child. You were in college and had your own apartment, you paid your own bills, you even had a pet that you cared for.

So it was a bit irritating that his disposition about you remained the same despite the fact being that you were morphing into an adult.

“yeah right, you and megumi will always be kids to me. even when you get old and have to shit in diapers” he wraps his arm around your neck, walking you to the front of the house.

“gross.” he laughs, removing his arm from you as he walks around the truck where your mom is.

“Me and Megumi finished this load. Ready for the next trip?” she nodded towards the truck, hopping in the passenger’s side when Toji gave her confirmation.

“Yup,” the tall man walked around to the driver’s side, swinging the heavy door open and sliding in place.

Your eyes shot open in bewilderment, rushing to the side where your mom was. “Next trip? There’s more stuff!?”

“Sweetheart don’t be like that, there’s only a few more things we have to get from the old apartment. we’ll be done after this, I promise.” she said with assurement in her voice. “Now move, i don’t want you to get run over.”

You stepped back in disbelief, nearly tripping over your own two feet as you watched the truck fade away into the distance. You were already taking time out of your day to do something you didn’t want to do in the first place, now that time was getting extended.

The sun had begun to set over the horizon, painting the summer sky with a beautiful mixture of orange and pink. You stood in the driveway, dumbfounded for a few moments before you could even formulate a sentence.

“This is some bullshit.” you huffed out, earning a wry laugh from Fushiguro who stood a few feet away from you.

“Weekend isn’t going as planned, is it?” he chirped from behind you, causing you to turn around and stomp on his foot as you walked past him to get to the house.

He hopped on one foot, holding the other one that you had stepped on.

“Shut the hell up. And help me put the rest of these boxes in the house shitface.”

“Says the one that has a face with more craters than the moon,” he mumbles out, barely audible enough for you to hear.

When Fushiguro brings the last of the boxes in the house, you’re settled on the couch watching tv. He purposefully plops down on the couch at the exact spot where your feet are resting, causing you to land repeated butterfly kicks to the side of his thigh.

You feel Fushiguro grab you by the ankle, yanking you forward so that your legs were in an awkward position. He leaned over you, his face getting dangerously close to yours and his body sitting between your legs.

Face growing hot, you tried to pull your ankle from his tight hold but to no avail. Fushiguro only tightened his grip on you causing you to wince. You attempt to kick him off you with your free foot but he only catches that one too, now holding your legs open with both hands.

If you weren’t flustered before, you definitely were now. The dark scowl on Fushiguro’s face only excites you even more. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way, you’re supposed to hate him. But here you are, hot and bothered with the boy you hate spreading your legs wide open.

“Do that again, and I’ll hurt you. Bad.” he whispers with warning in his voice, face nearly touching yours.

His voice promised danger but was alluring all the same. It made you tremble, underwear starting to grow wet.

“Fushi-wushi, how’d you know I like pain?” you challenged him, daring to inch your face closer to his.

“You know, you should take a girl out on a date before you try to get between her legs,” you snicker, pushing him off you before sauntering off into the kitchen, hips swaying in efforts to tease him.

Megumi sits on the couch, shocked and flustered at your boldness as he watches you disappear into the other room.

You retrieve the pitcher of orange juice that sits in the freezer, opening it and placing it on the counter as you go to get a glass from the cabinet that sits way too high for you to reach.

“Shit. How am I supposed to reach that?”

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, contemplating asking Fushiguro for help or try to get it yourself knowing it’s too far out of your grasp. You choose the latter.

There was no way you were about to ask that bozo for help. He’d probably tease you about your height, rubbing it in your face about how you couldn’t even reach to get a flimsy little glass.

You steady yourself on the balls of your feet, stretching as far as you can to reach the glass. Your feet begin to burn, your calves burning from the stretch as your fingertips brushed the glass.

You must’ve tapped the object a tad bit too hard because it came tumbling down, knocking the carton of orange juice down to splatter all over your clothes before hitting the floor, shattering in the process.

A shard of the broken glass cuts your foot, causing you to scream. A confused Fushiguro speeds into the kitchen, eyes widening at your state before rushing off. You raise your injured foot off the ground, hobbling to the opposite side of the counter so you didn’t hurt yourself again.

The pain in your foot only grew, drops of blood hitting the floor as you winced.

Fushiguro reenters the room, a white box in his hand with a red and white sign on it.

“Sit on the counter,” he instructs you, and you do as he says, legs swinging from the place you were sitting. He drops to his knees and pries the kit open, revealing medical tools and supplies used to clean up wounds. He slips on a pair of gloves then pulls out a pair of tweezers, beginning to work on your foot.

Fushiguro angles your foot with his left hand, using his right to remove the glass with catlike precision. He’s so focused, the look of concern on his face baffling you. You cringe as you feel the glass exiting your foot, tears prodding your eyes from the agony.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he grits his teeth, never averting his eyes from the task at hand.

“Because I can-” you hiss, your foot recoiling from the stinging feeling of the alcohol that he applied to your foot.

“I can do it myself,” you sigh out, the sting beginning to dissipate.

“No you can’t, ___ . You could’ve really hurt yourself.” You noticed the resentment in his voice, he wouldn’t even look at you.

“Why do you care so much anyw-” you holler at him

“BECAUSE,” he yells at you, his eyes softening at the way you jumped back from him.

He sighs, continuing to nurse your foot by wrapping it in gauze. “I have my reasons” he gives you no further answer.

Any other time you would’ve yelled back at him, but the genuine concern in his voice only instructed you to be quiet.

He notices your ruined clothes from the orange juice that splattered over it. He also takes note of the way your shirt sticks to your breasts with your perked nippes showing through. He averts his eyes, quickly shooing you off.

“Look at you, you’re all sticky. I have clothes in my room you can go wear something of mine. I have to get this stuff cleaned up.” He turns away from you, securing the med kit before tending to the mess you made.

You could only nod, scooting off of the counter before leaving the kitchen on your injured foot to retreat to Fushiguro’s room.

There was this feeling in your chest that you just couldn’t shake off. Why did you feel bad? You couldn’t stand Fushiguro, so why did it bother you to see him upset?

You shut the door, peeling yourself out of your sticky clothes before searching for something to put on.

Megumi finishes cleaning up the glass and spilled juice when his phone lights up with a ‘ding’ noise. He picks up the device, noticing a text from his dad.

‘piece of shit truck broke down. we won’t be able to get home until the morning. there’s money for food in my room if you need it. -dad’

Megumi sucks his teeth at the message, heading upstairs to tell you the sudden news. He opens the door to his room, seeing your half naked body as you turn around, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

He caught a glimpse of the thong you were wearing, seeing how it nestled perfectly between your cheeks. Your ass looked good. He notices you’re not wearing a bra, his eyes trained on the way your pebbled nipples stick out.

You cover yourself with the shirt you found, snapping him out of his trance causing him to avert his eyes back to your flustered gaze.

“Can you get out!?” you shove him out and close the door behind him before he even gets the chance to apologize.

Megumi slaps his hands over his face, cursing to himself for not thinking to knock as he heads downstairs.

What was that? Was Fushiguro... checking you out? You caught him looking at your tits through your shirt earlier, and now this. You couldn’t front, Fushiguro was a good looking guy, but you didn’t like him like that. Did you?

When he was between your legs on the couch, your face was hot. And he made your underwear uncomfortable, but that didn’t mean you liked him. Did it?

You’re talking about a boy you grew up loathing, and you were pretty sure he couldn’t stand you either. Now you were questioning whether you had feelings for him. It made your head feel fuzzy.

Coyly walking into the living room, you sit on the couch opposite of Fushiguro. The awkward silence between you two only grew while the loud sounds from the tv served as white noise.

Fushiguro finally breaks the quietness between you two “The moving truck broke down, so you have to stay here for the night.”

Shit. And to think things weren’t awkward enough, now you have to spend the whole night alone with him.

“Oh.” you simply state, twiddling your thumbs as you look down.

A few moments pass before you glance at Fushiguro, finally deciding to speak. “Sorry I broke your glass…” you mutter out, making him laugh from beside you.

“Moon face is apologizing? Pigs must be flying,” he was holding his stomach from how hard he was laughing.

You were never really good at apologizing, always too prideful to own up to your faults. But when you did, you always meant it. So Fushiguro laughing at you only prompted you to fold your arms.

“Well now I take it back” you pout, turning your body away from him.

“Awww come on,” he scooches over to where you’re sitting, tilting your chin up to face him with his thumb and forefinger.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I was being a dick.”

The awkward tension in the room was now replaced with sexual tension, your breath catches in your throat from how close he was. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to.

You take this time to analyze his features. His thick lashes had grown out, curling up to his eyebrows beautifully. His jawline was sharp now, with his Adam's apple more prominent. And his lips were smooth and plush with a natural sheen to them, both a bubblegum pink color.

You had never seen him this way. Maybe you were just too busy hating him to even notice; but he was older, more mature now. He looked hot. You guess you weren’t the only one who had grown up.

“Fushiguro, why were you so worried about me earlier?” your breaths got heavier, heart pounding out of your chest as his face neared towards you.

The thumb on your chin ran along your mouth, Fushiguro’s eyes flickering to your lower lip.

“I can show you better than I can tell you. Will you let me?” he asks for your permission.

You weren’t stupid, you knew exactly where this was headed. And you didn’t mind. It had been months since you last got off, so you’d give in to your desires this time.

You close your eyes, letting Fushiguro close the distance between you two. His lips connect with yours in a heated but sensual kiss, tongue entering your mouth making you stifle a moan.

You let his hands wander your body. The meat of your thighs, the flesh of your ass, your soft tits. Megumi wanted to feel all of you. After so long, he was finally getting what he wanted. He was going to savor this moment.

He pulled his lips from yours, breath heavy against your swollen lips from the bruising kiss. His hands rested at the hem of your shirt, silently asking if he could take it off. You nod, raising your arms for him to remove the clothing.

You sit there in only your panties, Fushiguro’s eyes scanning your naked chest as he throws the shirt across the room.

“Your tits are so pretty,” latching onto your breast, he sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. He tastes the spilled orange juice from earlier on your skin, it drives him absolutely mad.

You throw your head back as Fushiguro makes dark bruises all over your chest, you’d have to cover that up with makeup later on.

He trails his tongue all the way down your sternum and stomach, moving down until he’s face to face with your cunt. He presses kisses to the fabric right over where your clit is, licking stripes over it making you whine for him to do more.

Fushiguro gets your message and hooks his finger over your thong, pushing the material out of the way before he jabs his tongue into your hole, rubbing your clit at the same time

“You taste so fucking good,” he removes his tongue from inside of you, slurping and sucking on that sensitive spot that drives you crazy.

You can’t control your moans now. The way he’s eating you is driving you nuts, and you feel yourself getting closer when he nudges two fingers in your pussy, curling his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck— yes yes yes, right there” you wail, feeling your release near.

Fushiguro groans at the way your fingers suck him in, his sweatpants grow uncomfortable from his rock hard dick drooling with precum.

“Right there? You gunna cum?” you nod your head furiously, eyes shutting tight with your mouth wide open.

Fushiguro takes advantage of your open mouth by pushing two of his fingers in, holding your tongue down as he muffles your cries.

Fuck. Fingers in your mouth. Fingers in your pussy. You could just die.

“Go ahead, cum. I got you.”

You let out a long moan, pleasure soaring through you as Fushiguro folds you in half on the couch with his fingers up to the knuckle inside of your pulsing cunt.

He works you through your orgasm, suckling on your clit as you begin to come down.

He palms his cock through his sweats to relieve himself from his painfully hard erection as he comes up to kiss you, swirling his tongue on yours allowing you to taste yourself. You moan from tasting your juices on his tongue, remembering your flavor along with Fushiguro’s.

“Good fucking girl” he detaches his lips from yours, breathless. You motion to pull his pants down but he catches your hand in his, causing you to frown at him.

“Wanna make you feel good too,” you pouted up at him, making Fushiguro let out a groan.

As much as he wanted your soft lips wrapped around his dick, he couldn’t allow it. He wanted tonight to be about you, he wanted solely to be the one to make you feel good.

Pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth, he gave you a knowing smile.

“I know, baby. Tonight’s about you though.” biting your lip, you give him a small nod as you watch him pull his shirt off along with his sweats.

He was sexy. His arms were decorated with muscles, his toned stomach and abs must’ve been crafted by the gods themselves. His prominent v-line extended down his pelvis making you salivate.

He pumped his thick cock in his hand one, two, three times before approaching you to your position on the couch, legs wide open with your panties pushed to the side. He barely gets the tip in before he pulls out again, letting out an audible groan.

“What’s wrong?” you sit up on your elbows, furrowing your eyebrows.

He runs his free hand down his face, looking down at you. “I don’t have a condom.”

You look down, licking your lips. You always practiced safe sex. You never once let a guy fuck you without a rubber. But the thought of Fushiguro going raw in you has you clenching around nothing.

“It’s okay, you can cum inside me. I’m on birth control.” you mumble, too embarrassed to even say it louder

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “You sure?” you nod, and that’s all he needs you to do before he slides into you in one fell swoop.

You throw your head back from the feeling of him stuffing you. His cock is so thick, stretching you out so perfectly you can’t help but scream.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he breathes out, shoving his cock in and out of your sopping cunt.

Your hole is so sloppy, you can feel yourself dripping onto the cushions right below where Fushiguro is fucking you senseless.

“Look at you, making a fucking mess” he gapes at where the two of you connect, pounding your pussy as your slick covers his abdomen. “I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I knew you get this wet for me”

His words only make you clench around his fat cock, eliciting a deep groan from him. You try to hold back your moans, only making Fushiguro pin your arms above your head.

“Ah ah, let me hear those pretty moans. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.” he commands you. The loud slaps filling the room and the lewdness of your tits uncontrollably bouncing in front of him only embarrass you further, pushing you closer to orgasm.

Fushiguro pulls out of you, flipping you onto your hands and knees before he pushes back into your soaked pussy, finally drawing out a moan from you.

“That’s a good girl,” he ruthlessly pounds you, cooing in your ear about how well you’re taking his dick. He was so deep, his cock fucking into your cervix. You could feel him in your stomach.

He presses his hand to your stomach, and you felt his dick pushing in and out of that very spot.

“You feel me in your tummy? I’m right here, baby”

he breathes in your ear, the feeling is too much, you know you’re about to cum at any given moment.

“‘S too big-- too much,” your eyes retreat to the back of your head, nails clawing at the arm of the couch.

“Yeah? You can take it. You’re a good girl, I know you can.”

And you do. You take all of his fat cock in your little pussy because he tells you to. Because you wanna be a good girl.

He didn’t know how long he could keep this up, he was about to blow his load inside you but not before you tell him what he wants to hear.

“Fushig-”

“Megumi,” he corrects you

“Megumi, please let me cum—!” you beg, tears streaming down your face.

He ponders on it for a while, hips never faltering against your ass.

“You gonna stop pretending you hate me?”

“Yes—!”

“You gonna stop being such a damn brat?”

“Yes yes yes—! I’ll do anything you want, jus’ please let me cum”

His breaths begin to stagger. He’s cumming.

“Cum baby, cum all over my dick” he rubs on your clit, tipping you over the edge. Any and all sound you hear is blocked out, you can only feel yourself floating.

Your little cunt strangles Fushiguro as his cream fills you, the white liquid spilling out as he fucks it in and out of you.

Your body collapses onto the sofa below you as you come down from your high, twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He really fucked your brains out.

The edges of your vision begin to fade into white as you feel your limp body being scooped up and carried out of the room.

You fade in and out of consciousness when you feel a warm wet material run up and down your skin, seeing a tall figure looming over you before you finally black out for good.

Your eyes flutter open, taking note of your surroundings. You were in Fushiguro’s bedroom. Feeling a heavy arm around your waist, you turn your head to find him sleeping peacefully next to you.

‘He looks so cute when he’s sleeping.’ you smile sheepishly, attempting to slide out of his hold only for him to pull you closer.

“Gonna leave without saying goodbye first?” he speaks in his deep morning voice, the sounds going straight to your core.

“We can’t let our parents catch us like this. And if I keep listening to your morning voice I just might fuck you while they’re here.” you admit.

He lets out a deep chuckle “I don’t mind, let them listen.” he pulls you even closer, his morning wood pressing up against your ass.

His voice is seriously doing something to you. If he kept testing you, you’d end up taking him up on his offer. But you can’t let it distract you, you have to get dressed.

“I’m serious, I gotta get dressed” you say flatly.

Fushiguro lets out a whine, not really wanting you to leave. “Fine,” he surrenders, pressing a kiss to your nape that makes you shiver.

Sliding from his grip, you scour the room for your clothes, slipping them on as he comes up to hug you from behind.

“Are you gonna let me see you again?” he presses his lips to your shoulder and neck, waiting for a response.

You think over the question for a minute. Considering what it would be like to have a recurrent fuck buddy. None of the other guys you slept with could get you off properly, except Fushiguro.

Fushiguro actually was a decent guy despite being a dickwad most of the time, he was also someone you could trust after knowing him for so long. Besides, he knew how to fuck.

You answer his question with a simple nod, turning around in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Good,” he presses a kiss to your lips, his hands snaking down past the small of your back to grab a handful of your ass.

“Megumi!” you hear a voice call out to him. It sounds like… his dad?

His eyes blow wide as he shoves you into his closet without warning. You decide to keep quiet, but you notice your panties are on the floor in perfect view as his father enters the room, telling Fushiguro to help move the rest of the boxes.

You can only hope he doesn’t notice but his eyes make direct contact with the fabric as he’s about to leave the room, shooting his son a shit eating grin.

You would be embarrassed, but you take note of the box of rubbers sitting on the shelf next to you. ‘That sneaky little fucker.’

You couldn’t complain, you wanted to feel all of him anyways. Your attention is turned back to the two people in front of you.

“That’s my boy!” the older man cheers as he humps the air, smacking it with his open palm as if it were a woman. He pats Megumi on the back before exiting the room.

“My son is the man!” he shouts proudly throughout the entire house.

You slowly emerge from the closet, hands forming in an ‘ok’ sign as if to say “Smooth.”

He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his nape. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

You wave him off, assuring him there’s no problem.

“So uh, see you next Saturday?”

You nod giving him a smile, turning around to leave his room. Saturdays were your favorite day, but you didn’t mind giving that up if it meant spending your free time with him. He had you wrapped around his little finger already and he didn’t even know it.

Maybe Fushiguro isn’t so bad after all.

Oops-

You mean Megumi.

[notchesandbullets]

Vintage Books and Midnight Promises (Tattooed!Bakugou x Bookworm!Reader) Modern!AU

Warnings: none, just fluff. features Child!Eijirou, Child!Izuku and brief Dadzawa at the end

Synopsis: Your days are brightened by the appearance of Eijirou and Izuku but you don’t recognize the tattooed man who accompanied the two children into your bookshop one day. But he finds his way into your heart and before you can stop it, you’re already in too deep for the man with tattoos that rippled like the purest form of water and smelled like blueberries hand-picked on the warmest day.

Inspired by: @all1e23 ‘s series “Astrophile” (this is one of my favorite comfort fanfics, i highly recommend it)

Words: 9.8k

It was a beautiful, sunny day.

Steam coming from a hot cup of coffee curled in the air and you sighed as you set down the porcelain teacup that had been a gift from your grandmother on the front desk, sinking deeper into the velvety cushion of your seat as you basked in the tranquility of the empty store before the bell on the door would inevitably ring again.

The musty yet homey scent of secondhand books clung to the worn pages in all the stories of mystery, fantasy and nonfiction that filled the old and rickety oak shelving you had bought at an auction five years ago.

The cornershop sat at the end of a particularly quaint neighborhood in the small town you lived in and you couldn’t imagine anything else more relaxing other than grabbing a cup of coffee from the loft upstairs and curling up with a good book until store hours were over.

You got a steady stream of regulars and occasionally a few new faces here and there that ended up coming back quite frequently. You hoped that had something to do with the notion that they liked to read, since that’s all you could really hold a conversation about.

The latest thriller that was published or that underrated author that never seemed to get enough attention in your opinion, even though their work was such a delight for you to read, whatever it was, you could talk about books for hours.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard to act normal around those vastly more social than you.

Ever since you could remember, you had your nose buried in a book, bumping into street lamps and crashing into people as you failed to look up for even a second to see where you were going.

People never seemed to quite understand you, why you preferred the company of books over people, but you didn’t need them to understand. Books were all you had and you liked to keep it that way.

Books were consistent and there would always be more literature to read.

Luckily, it was a weekday so business was pretty slow and in just another hour, you would be free to finish up repainting the storefront.

But first, you needed to conclude this book. You were so close to the ending and the author had been stringing you along on a thread of hope that the protagonist was going to make it out and save the day, you were on the edge of your seat!!

Your eyes flitted across the pages at a speed too fast for human eyes to comprehend and you were so engrossed in the book that you didn’t notice the shadow that passed by outside.

You jumped as the door to your little bookshop flew open with a bang, losing your balance from where you had been perched on your favorite stool and crashed to the floor.

Sitting up with a groan of pain, you rubbed your now sore bottom and winced. “Ow…”

You hadn’t anticipated someone coming and wreaking havoc on your little shop. It was a good thing you had a good memory and had marked the page you left off of in your head or else that customer that had so rudely barged in would be getting more than just some curt words from you.

“Sorry.” A curt and gruff apology came from over the counter and your mouth pressed in a hard line as you got to your feet.

“Is everything alright?” You asked slowly, brushing the dust off of your clothes and making eye contact with the stranger for the first time.

In front of you was some punk who had incredibly intricate tattoos visible on his arms.

You eyed him up and down. He was pretty tall. Okay, correct that, he towered a good head over you, but what was the most intimidating was that scowl on his face that looked like it was permanently glued there for some reason.

His shoulders were broad and even under that sleeveless tank he was wearing, his muscles rippled and you rolled your eyes.

So he was one of those.

But you stopped a bit of ink twining up his neck and cocked an eyebrow at the prospect of him having more underneath his clothes.

You didn’t react despite where your mind just went, internally screaming at yourself to get a grip.

Guys like him didn’t randomly walk into a bookshop like yours. You had half a mind to call the police, thinking he was about to loot your store, but hesitated because he hadn’t done anything and it was wrong to judge someone you didn’t know under stereotypes that were groomed into you from a young age.

Not to mention, if he actually was going to rob you for whatever reason, he wouldn't have announced his presence like that.

Unless he was an idiot. Either one was equally possible at the moment while you waited for him to say something. Anything.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He said shortly after a pause, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and your stance softened a bit when you noticed how uncomfortable he looked. You could understand that feeling.

Plastering a smile on your face, you leaned back and shrugged, accepting what you suspected to be his version of an apology. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“Miss Y/N!!! Miss Y/N!!! Down here!!!”

“We’re down here!!!”

The small, childish chorus had your eyes brightening up in an instant as you recognized the voices and you were racing out from behind the counter within a second.

“Eijirou, Izuku!!” You knelt down to hug both of the toddlers tightly. “I didn't know you two were coming today!!”

They normally came on the weekends with their dad, it was so rare to see them on a weekday, with a new face nonetheless.

Eijirou’s shiny red eyes blinked up at you and he beamed brightly while Izuku shuffled his feet self-consciously, sniffling as he clutched his All Might plushie tight to his chest.

You cooed, lifting his chin sweetly to wipe away the tears. “What's wrong, Izuku?”

He sniffled, hugging his comfort plushie tighter as he pointed up to the scowling man that had accompanied them. “He… He’s mean.”

The ash-blond’s forehead creased in annoyance as you sent him a questioning look. “Shut your mouth, you fucking brat!!”

You covered Eijirou and Izuku’s ears, glaring at him. He matched it in intensity and it wasn’t until you saw how he wasn’t going to back down that you sighed, breaking off eye contact and conceding as you caught the tears streaming down Izuku’s round cheeks.

“Yeah, he’s big and scary, let’s leave him here, okay?” You said to the little boy, pretending not to notice the punk’s glare following the two of you as you led the now cheered up Izuku over to the back of the store.

Every time they came, you made sure to have the children’s area brushed up for them. The floor to ceiling windows in that one corner in the back had deep purple curtains drawn open during the day, shining light directly on the soft leather sofa that belonged to your family.

The perfect place to read.

A tug on the man’s hand had him looking down.

“Bakugou!!” The red-haired toddler shouted excitedly, frantically pulling him to where you were at only to run out of breath from his efforts as the man didn’t budge. “I want to go too!!”

“You’re staying here where I can see you, Shitty Hair.” Bakugou grumbled, running an exasperated hand through his spiky hair as he waited for the other brat to come back so that they could leave.

“You can come with!!” Eijirou begged, still trying to convince the stubborn man who was their guardian for the time being while their dad was busy. He huffed and puffed but still he didn’t move an inch.

He snorted haughtily, his grip tightening on the brat’s when he switched tactics and tried to pry off the hand that was holding his. “Like hell I would.”

Eijirou’s lower lip wobbled dangerously as he stopped fighting. “But you promised!!”

Bakugou inwardly groaned and looked away from the toddler. Tears from the brats were his fucking weakness and he hated it. But he still wasn’t going to let him.

The only reason why he agreed to take them here in the first place was because they wouldn’t shut up, begging for him to take them to the bookstore that they visited every week with their dad over and over again, promising that they wouldn’t ask for anything else the whole rest of the day.

They just wanted to see you.

Bakugou only agreed because they crossed their hearts that they would be quiet if he took them and if they didn’t make good on their word, then he would blow them up.

But what he didn’t mention was that he was a little intrigued by the girl that they talked about excitedly all the way there.

Tch, shitty brats. Fucking annoying.

Eijirou never cared about his threats when he declared that he would blow them up, going so far as to smile brightly in his face, completely unaffected while that shitty nerd’s face went ashen and lost all its color as he cowered behind his brother to avoid the scary man that towered over them.

Izuku lacked the spine that Eijirou had.

Bakugou pushed off the counter that he was leaning against as you came back into view with a happy Izuku in tow.

Eijirou visibly deflated and tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “You’re all done? B-But I wanted to pick some out too!!”

You hushed him softly as you saw how close he was to sobbing, crouching down to his level and ruffled his hair. “You can choose what you want too, Eiji.”

His whole face lit up. “Really?!”

“Of course!!” You reassured with a smile, the edges of your eyes crinkling as you stood up and offered him your other hand that wasn’t joined with Izuku’s. But after Izuku swung your hand, you took that as your cue to let go. “Come on!!”

This time, Bakugou wasn’t fast enough to intervene as Eijirou took your hand and zoomed off with you trailing behind him, practically dragging you behind him as he took on the personality of a race car. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, wanting nothing more than to leave this place that had absolutely no business with and he clenched his hands into fists, storming over to where the two of you ran off to with full intention of grabbing the shitty brat and exiting with nothing more than a word.

But he faltered at the sound of your laughter bouncing off the bookshelves and unconsciously retracted his hand as he turned the corner.

To be honest, he didn’t know what made him stop. But seeing you there, with Eijirou tuckered out in your lap as you read him a book, Izuku bounding past him just to cuddle up on your other side was making him soft.

Fuck emotions. He hated having a heart.

You were seated on a huge, tan leather sofa that looked worn with age and was packed with brightly-colored pillows that looked much softer than he wanted to admit as he found himself drifting towards the three of you.

Truth be told, he only took them here because they were begging for either this or the zoo and he could not fucking stand the zoo.

What the fuck was so interesting about animals locked in a pen?

“Get up brats, we’re leaving.” Bakugou barked, glaring pointedly at the fucking brats when they cracked their eyes open as you stopped reading.

A chorus of whines and protests followed by some very pouty begging made you crack a smile at his unchanging demeanor.

“You know~” You sang, holding back a giggle at the suspicious look the man shot you as you shut the children’s book you were reading in favor of glancing at the two kids out of the corner of your eye. “I do have a ton of pizza that needs to be finished today. I don't suppose there's anyone out there that can help me with such a big task.”

Izuku and Eijirou shrieked in delight, bouncing up and down on the sofa, alternating between screaming yes and pleading for him to let them stay.

Bakugou, on the other hand, was fucking irritated as hell.

You were trying to bribe him with pizza? How un-fucking-believable. You were worse than the two troublemakers shrieking so loud, it felt like his head was going to split. He didn’t believe what he just heard. But was it working?

Yup.

Because your sundress flared around your knees as you crossed your legs to accommodate both the boys. The tresses of your hair fell around your face so softly he vaguely wondered if it was even possible for someone to look so innocent while conducting a pizza scheme.

Izuku scratched his head cutely as he yawned widely, exhausted from all the hopping he just did as Eijirou began to jump up and down around you, his endless energy coming off of him in waves.

“We can help!!!” He cried, tugging Izuku upright and the little boy stumbled, landing on his rear on the couch with an ‘oof’.

But he didn't cry. Instead, he tilted his head curiously and blinked. “We can?”

“Yes!!” Eijirou insisted. He wanted pizza. He loved pizza. And Bakugou never treated them to it whenever he watched them, he said it would make them fat. “Please Bakugou!!!”

You raised an eyebrow as you heard the punk’s name for the first time. It sounded fitting for such a stoic and emotionless person that he was portraying at the moment as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the red-haired toddler.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “What did I tell you about referring to your elders, Shitty Hair?”

“Ahh!!” You blurted out, sending him a sharp look that was meant to reprimand him. “Don't swear in front of them!!”

Bakugou glared at you uncaringly and you matched it, throwing in a pout for good measure.

You had no idea what was giving you all this confidence now. You had never been this comfortable interacting with a stranger. You blamed it on the children. They were far too familiar.

The moment of silence as you glared at each other was broken when both of the boys jumped down from the sofa at the same time.

Weird.

“Ahh, don’t go too far!!” You called out after them as you sprang up. “And don’t leave the store!!”

“M’kay!!!” Eijirou shouted back as he tugged Izuku, who was struggling to catch up, behind him. “Can I flip the sign, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled, hiding a grin from Bakugou as you nodded even though they couldn’t see. “Yes, just be careful and don’t go outside!!”

As he yelled that he knew back at you, you moved into a better light so that that one bookshelf wasn’t blocking your view of them so you could see them. Once you were in direct line of sight, your smile softened as you saw Eijirou lift Izuku up so that he could reach the sign and flip it around to show that you were closed for the day.

“They’re so sweet to each other.” You murmured to yourself.

The closeness of Bakugou’s scoff had you jumping back in surprise and you winced as your back crashed into the bookshelf behind you.

“Geez, I was going to say hell no.” Bakugou started as he chortled, smirking at you as you collected yourself. “But you’re even more of a klutz than that shitty nerd is.”

Brushing down your skirt, you coughed a couple times to cover up your blush of embarrassment. “I am not.”

“Uh, yeah you are.”

“Oh hush.” You snapped at him as the boys came bounding back, Izuku proudly holding up another book he wanted you to read for him that he found on the way back.

You giggled and ruffled his hair affectionately before asking if they’d like to continue reading here or up in the loft, to which they both sprinted to the stairs.

Well, that answered that question.

You sent a smile over your shoulder, inviting the grumpy man to follow you. “You coming or what?”

Bakugou hid a smirk as you turned back around and followed the hyperactive kids up the stairs.

You sure were interesting, he’d give you that.

And that night, the four of you fell asleep in the loft, with four boxes of cheese, pepperoni and half-eaten vegetarian pizzas surrounding you as Izuku curled up beside you and Eijirou snored on top of Bakugou’s head.

You were very happy to see that it wasn’t the last time you saw the forever annoyed man who had barged into your store.

It had been a month since that day. And since then, Bakugou had become a regular face and you dreaded how you subconsciously looked forward to when he would show up randomly.

One time, he had popped in your store just to grunt out a greeting and toss a bag at you, demanding that you eat it or else he would fucking kill you, before leaving.

Opening it up, you saw the freshly-baked blueberry muffin inside. And when you bit into it, it was delicious.

The only thing that confused you was that there was no good bakery around here, so you had absolutely no idea where he got it from.

Today, another weekday, they came again all bright smiles and sunshine and you bolted off your stool, abandoning your freshly-brewed coffee to greet them before they could even step into the bookstore.

There were still a few hours of daylight until closing time and you had some more things to finish up.

Bakugou leaned against the wall as you rearranged the display on the top shelf. The ever energetic Izuku and Eijirou had sped over to their corner the second they ran into the store, greeting you over their shoulder as the two boys tunneled past you.

You had pouted but let them go have their fun since tonight would be another night of pizza and soft drinks while you read them their favorite books.

Last time, Eijirou came to you with a stack of at least fifteen and you nearly had a laughing fit when one of them was a little too high for his age group.

He could read all those young adult novels with glorious battles featuring knights and dragons when his vocabulary increased a bit more.

A green-haired boy with freckles toddled up to you with his counterpart and buddy in crime nowhere to be seen.

Giggling, you approved the ones that Izuku held up to you with wide eyes blinking slowly.

“I’ll read it for you a little later, yeah?” You said, patting his head.

“Okay!!”

You flailed for a second as you lost your balance, the little boy disappearing from sight once again before he could realize you were off kilter due to the speed that he zipped at but a pair of strong hands settled on your waist to steady you.

Lips parting in surprise, you turned around to see Bakugou’s trademark sneer as he stared up at you.

“Dumbass.”

“Hey!!” You protested, all gratitude gone, and your lips pursed in a firm line as you disputed his claim.

But you were startled at the rough rumble that emitted from his chest and it took you a second to realize that he was laughing. At your expense, but still, it warmed your heart to hear.

“Well, look at that.” You teased. “He’s not so cold after all.”

“Tch.” Bakugou’s amusement faded as he glared at you for that but you just brushed it off.

You turned your attention back to the top shelf but misjudged the distance as you stretched out your hand. Yelping as one of the stool legs gave out, you careened to the side and squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact.

But your eyes shot open as you didn’t hit the ground like you expected. Instead, you landed on something softer than the hardwood floor.

When a pained groan sounded underneath you, you scrambled upright.

“Oh my gosh!! I’m so sorry!!!”

Bakugou had somehow cushioned your fall, making you land on him rather than crash to the ground.

Your cheeks flamed when you realized you were straddling his waist, hands splayed on his chest and you squeaked when he caught you staring.

“Oi, are you going to fucking stare at me all day?” Bakugou snarked and you huffed, clambering off of him clumsily.

It was a good thing you weren’t wearing a dress today. That would’ve been so embarrassing.

“I’m really sorry.” You apologized again, sheepishly tucking your hair behind your ear as you tried to appear less frazzled than you felt as he picked himself up from the floor.

Before he could say anything, though it was probably something not very nice, Izuku ran around the corner with Eijirou hot on his heels.

“Miss Y/N!!!” Izuku called out breathlessly, his chubby cheeks flushed pink from running so fast. “Miss Y/N!!! I have a secret to tell you!!”

“Izuku, I want to tell her!!!” Eijirou complained with a small pout.

“No, I want to!!!” He pushed back fiercely before he turned to you with bright forest green eyes and beamed. “Miss Y/N—”

“Bakugou has a crush on you!!!!” Eijirou interrupted, dancing in circles around you and out of Bakugou’s reach as the man swiped at him.

Bakugou snarled as the toddler screeched and dived in between his legs to escape him. “Get back here, you fucking brat!!!!”

Izuku tugged on your pant leg, tears brimming in his eyes as his lower lip trembled. “M-Miss Y/N…”

Your giggles died down as Bakugou continued to chase Eijirou and you smiled reassuringly, bending down to pick him up.

“Aww, it’s okay, Izuku.” You reassured with a chirpy smile. “If you want, we can just pretend you told me, yeah?”

He smiled and kicked his feet happily, giggling as he waved his All Might plushie back and forth.

“Do we get to stay tonight too?”

“Yup!!” You beamed, hoisting him higher as you collected the book that you needed to put away and balance it on your head so that you could hold the toddler with two hands. “I already checked it with your dad and he said it was okay!!”

Aizawa had sounded stressed when you called him but that was to be expected. His line of work was tough but he had quickly agreed to it. He had interacted with you enough to know that you looked out for them almost as much as he did.

Besides, in the small town, word got around fast. If there was dirt on you, he would’ve heard about it by now.

Izuku tugged on your braid innocently to catch your attention. “Can we leave him downstairs when you read to us?”

You giggled and booped his nose, watching it scrunch up cutely. You already knew he was talking about Bakugou. “Why do you want him to stay downstairs?”

Izuku pouted. “Because he snores too loud.”

“Hah?! Say it to my face, Deku!!!” Bakugou’s yell echoed from somewhere on the other side of the store and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

“C’mon,” You said softly, bouncing Izuku on your hip as you crept around the other side. “Let’s go see if we can help Eiji and then we’ll sneak upstairs before he finds us, yeah?”

“Yayyy!!!” Izuku cheered happily.

“FOUND YOU, SHITTY NERD!!!”

“Uh oh, Miss Y/N, run!!!!!”

An hour and a lot of duct tape later, Bakugou was sitting in the punishment chair for those that misbehaved while you read to the boys upstairs.

About ten minutes later, you flicked the lights off upstairs as you headed back down, being careful about which lamps to turn on since you didn’t want to wake the kids.

You fought back a grin as you saw the poorly wrapped duct tape tying his wrist to the chair. Apparently you could’ve been more clear to the boys that since the stuff was sticky, they didn’t have to necessarily tie it around his arm like string.

You were quite sure that Bakugou could've gotten up if he wanted to so you left him down there but when you finished the last book and he was nowhere to be seen, you came downstairs only to find him in the exact same position you left him in.

“What's wrong? Tied you up too tight?” You teased, knowing it had no merit.

“Ha ha, you’re so fucking funny.” Bakugou glowered at you, then his blank expression morphed into subtle curiosity. “The brats asleep?”

“Yeah,” You said, rubbing your arms as a breeze blew by and you frowned as you held out your hand and started to follow it all the way to its source and it only furrowed deeper when you deduced that it was coming from a crack in the front door. “Rats.”

“What the…” Bakugou trailed off as he came up behind you and at this point you didn’t even flinch.

For someone who was so tall and had such a fit physique, he sure moved like the wind. You were used to it by now.

You sighed, planting your hands on your hips after testing the lock to make sure it still worked properly. Thank goodness that was still fine. “It happens every winter. I think it has something to do with the wood and the weather when the temperature drops but I already fixed it this past season so I don’t know why…”

Burrowing your face in your hands, you groaned and tried to put it in back of your mind for now.

But Bakugou’s brow knitted at the safety concern and he jangled the knob to play around with it.

By the time you had stopped trying to think of ways to solve this problem temporarily until you had the means for a more permanent solution, Bakugou had fixed it.

Your jaw dropped as you saw he had stuffed some kind of weather strip you had laying in the corner with the rest of the maintenance tools collecting dust and bluntly claimed he’d fix it in the morning for you.

“You don’t have to do that!!” You cried out, feeling bad and not wanting to owe him anything.

Bakugou snorted. “That wasn’t a fucking question, dumbass.”

You opened your mouth to protest but the pitter-patter of tiny feet scaling down the stairs made you both raise your heads.

Your eyes filled with concern as you saw the little boy dragging a blankie behind him with his thumb stuck in his mouth.

“Izuku?” You rushed over and dropped down to the floor, not caring how you scraped your knees in the process. “What’s wrong?”

He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

“... had a nightmare…” He mumbled under his breath, close to tears and your gaze softened sympathetically.

Opening your arms to him, you caught yourself as he ran into you and you walked back to where Bakugou was observing.

Nightmare. You mouthed at him and his eyes grew dark for a second.

You didn’t understand why but you didn’t ask any questions as you focused on consoling the crying boy.

“Hey, Izuku,” You whispered softly when he had calmed down enough to be coherent and tell you a little what it was about. “You know what always makes me feel better?”

He blinked up at you. “Pizza?”

You giggled and tapped his nose gently. “Well yes, but I was thinking more along the lines of ice cream…”

You didn’t miss the way eyes lit up and he automatically turned to an indifferent Bakugou watching the both of you while leaning against the wall with a pleading expression, and immediately, the man was shaking his head violently.

“Hell no.” He refused flatly. Upon the fresh tears that welled up in Izuku’s eyes, he turned to you, as though he needed to prove to you that he had a good reason for saying no. “It’s late out.”

“There’s a 24/7 store that carries ice cream right down the street.” You supplied helpfully, smiling innocently when he glared at you.

Bakugou sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it in frustration. “It’s dark, Y/N. It’s dangerous.”

“I can go.” You suggested, trying to pry off an Izuku who was clinging to you.

“The hell? Fuck no.” Bakugou hissed and you sighed, giving up on trying to make the green bundle that was pretending to be a leech unstick from you.

“I’ll be right back.” You negotiated. “It’s not even that far—”

“You’re not going.”

You balked at the unrelenting tone he took with you but shut your mouth when you saw the look in his eyes. The look that told you he had seen things that he probably would never tell you.

You saw it in the way his hands shook ever so slightly when he held either Eijirou or Izuku, like he was afraid they would disappear on him the second he let go. You knew that kind of fear and you didn’t argue against him.

But before you could smile sadly at Izuku for letting him down, Bakugou was stomping upstairs and waking up the other slumbering toddler.

There was a muffled shout and then a grunt from above.

“Wake up, Shitty Hair.”

“Eh?! Where are we going?!”

You winced as a crash sounded from the upper level. You didn’t want to know what he broke this time.

But you followed Bakugou’s thinking. Even if the door was sturdy for now, it wasn’t a good idea to leave a child alone for whatever reason, even if you weren’t going to be gone long. If Eijirou woke up all alone, there was a good possibility he would venture outside by himself and that wouldn’t be good.

Besides, Eijirou would be sad if he missed out on this adventure.

It had taken five minutes for Bakugou to wrangle Eijirou, who was way too energetic this late at night, and an additional ten just before the four of you left the store.

Bakugou locked it behind you as you carried Izuku out.

Initially, he had insisted that he could carry him to give you a break but you told him you didn’t mind.

And you really didn’t. The little boy was snoozing softly against your shoulder and you were happy that you could provide some small amount of comfort to him after such a scary bad dream.

The trip was pretty uneventful. Nothing happened, you guys got there safely, Bakugou paid for more ice cream than you guys could consume in one night, saying something about how it was so he didn’t have to do this whole thing again and you walked back.

There were some stragglers out and you got a couple of glances that normally would’ve made your skin crawl but for some reason, this time you felt reassured as Bakugou drifted to your side and kept you close as he made sure Eijirou didn’t let go of his hand.

Eijirou was good, for the most part.

He was unusually serious and didn’t goof off inside the grocery store like he did in your bookshop and you were grateful for that. You didn’t know if you had the energy to chase him down like Bakugou had done earlier if he decided he wanted to play hide-and-seek.

At one point, Bakugou’s free hand that wasn’t busy holding onto the tubs of ice cream or Eijirou, to make sure he didn’t wander off, crept around your shoulders and pulled you close when someone who was drunk out of their minds strayed too close to you.

“Back the fuck off.” He growled protectively as he tucked you and Izuku into his side, glaring at them until they got the message and went on their way.

You were thankful that there wasn’t enough light for him to see the blush present on your cheeks and as you stepped back inside the safety of your bookstore, the boys going after the comfort ice cream like puppies with ice, you didn’t know quite how to feel when his scorching touch left you.

And you wondered why your heart was beating so fast.

By the time the next weekend had rolled around, it was their twentieth time coming together and you were starting to get a bit alarmed at how familiar their appearance was. You actually had to stop in your tracks when you realized you not only were looking forward to seeing Izuku and Eijirou but also Bakugou.

Crap.

That punk had wormed his way into your heart even more but you’d be damned if you let him stay there.

Convincing yourself you’d get over this petty little crush before it became a problem, you picked out some gifts for the two boys the next time you would see them.

By the time you had walked down the street to your shop from the toy store, you actually realized that they beat you to it. You had to calm the two toddlers down as they ran up to greet you, Eijirou vastly quicker on his feet than Izuku, even though the little boy tried his hardest.

They squealed as you gave them presents, showing them off to Bakugou and sped off into their corner to go play. Just like clockwork.

“So…” You started, cringing at how awkward you sounded now that you were alone with Bakugou. “Where’s their dad today?”

Bakugou coughed, then cleared his throat. “You mean that scruffy old man?”

You cracked a smile. “That’s the one.”

He was always with them. He was the first one to bring the boys in on a slow day, which quickly livened up due to the endless amount of energy contained inside a little Eijirou and a tiny Izuku.

Midgets. You loved them so much.

Their cheeks were so squishy, too. Adorable.

It had been months since you had last seen Aizawa and you were a little bit worried about him. But you figured if anyone would know if he was okay would be the man entrusted to watch his sons.

Bakugou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest so that his muscles bulged out from that sleeveless tank he was wearing. The patches of ink rippled in the light and moved almost like it was real. “Aizawa-sensei’s not their dad but he acts like it too fucking much to pretend that it’s not true anymore.”

You giggled at his harsh words edged with a bit of something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that sounded like begrudging fondness.

Bakugou jerked his chin to where Izuku was chasing after Eijirou, begging him to help him get a book down from the shelf. Usually, you’d go help them but the adorable little toddler puffed out his chest and started clambering up the step ladder to get it.

Bakugou had bought that one himself to replace the rickety one you had accidentally broken and fallen off of so you knew it was sturdy. They would only fall off of it if they weren’t careful but you were within sight of them so you weren’t too worried.

“He’s enlisted in the military so he can’t always watch them even after they blacklisted him. His old unit just recently got reinstated.” Bakugou said with a scowl, not bothering to elaborate on that, but his eyes softened the tiniest bit as Izuku huffed and puffed to catch up with Eijirou, his little legs working overtime to compensate for his lack of height. “So he gave the brats to me to make sure they didn’t kill themselves or something.”

You grinned, clasping your hands behind your back and stuck your face close to his, skirt swirling around your ankles as you sent him a cheeky smile.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?”

“Shut the hell up, no I didn’t!!” He shouted but you bit back the smile threatening to overtake your entire face.

“You’re too easy to read~” You teased.

Bakugou grabbed for you but you dodged easily. Gritting his teeth in determination, he ran after you and you yelped at how quickly he was gaining on you.

Damn, it was a bad day to wear these shoes.

You ducked around the corner only for him to catch up to you in a split second. You squeaked as he slammed you into the bookshelf, caging you in between his arms as he smirked down at you.

“I won.” He declared triumphantly.

You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue. “Such a child.”

Bakugou scowled. You were one to talk, taunting him like you two were friends or something. “Oi, fucking take that back.”

Your eyes glinted mischievously. “Or you’ll do what? Try to punch me again? Maybe this time you’ll actually land one and not miss like a lose—”

You gasped as his chest bumped into yours, his red eyes glimmering dangerously. His breath was hot against your face and your heart stopped.

“I don’t fucking lose.” He growled.

You gulped. Perhaps you had crossed a line. Your gaze darted away from him for a second, not even bothering to push him away because you knew you couldn’t.

“Thank you.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow in surprise but masked it quickly. “For what?”

“For the other day.” You clarified. “I think I would’ve been screwed if you hadn’t come with, so thank you.”

He snorted and looked away. “Don’t mention it, dumbass.”

You were going to leave it at that but at that moment, a soft giggle floated through the air along with some very loud and obvious shushing.

Bakugou immediately tore after the little brats without a second thought as both Eijirou and Izuku poked their heads around the corner to spy on you and you threw your head back and laughed.

They were so goofy but maybe that crush they had told you about that you had so easily dismissed at first wasn’t so ridiculous after all.

While you were busy helping other customers throughout the day, Bakugou occasionally came to check in on you and make sure you were taking your breaks and eating, all while reassuring you that the shitty brats were fucking fine and you didn’t need to be worried about shit.

He could handle it.

You smiled and waved a hand at him when he left, giggling when he flipped you the bird before turning to the next person who wanted to check out.

The sun set and night fell, all along with the comfortable routine you had grown accustomed to having with all three of the boys.

But you bolted upright as Eijirou nonchalantly revealed something you didn’t expect the instant you finished setting up the tent for movie night.

“IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY?!?!” You screeched in Bakugou’s ear.

Bakugou clapped a hand over your mouth, sending you a death glare, undoubtedly for your insanely loud volume, but you wrangled him off of you.

“Bu— You— Why didn’t you say something?!”

He looked at you as though you were crazy. You two barely knew each other and if he knew it was going to spur on this reaction, he definitely would’ve stopped Shitty Hair from saying that shit.

Too late now.

Bakugou slumped back against the makeshift fort you had set up for the boys in the loft. Said troublesome toddlers were currently going to town on your DVD collection so that they could choose a movie for tonight.

You only had cartoons from your childhood so it was a perfect selection for them. They were currently hunting through the bookshelf in your room that was connected to upper floor, just down the hall.

“What the hell is there to tell?” He grunted in your direction, a deep seated scowl on his features from the starry blankets and pillows that surrounded him.

You frowned. Growing up, birthdays had always been days that you looked forward to. The parties, the presents, family and friends to celebrate it with, you always loved it. Maybe there was a reason he didn’t want to celebrate it.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you idly rocked back and forth as you thought about how best to approach the reproachful man.

Bakugou sighed and glared at your crossly. You weren’t going to let this go until he gave you an answer.

“There ain’t no deep reason for it, none of that bullshit.” He ground out eventually and you perked your head up, listening attentively. “I don’t see what’s so special about the day I was born, it’s the same as every other fucking day.”

He was caught off guard as you rapidly shook your head, crying out at his words.

“It’s not!!” You implored earnestly, the roots to your ideals running deep as you leaned forward. “The day you were born is so special!! It celebrates your life, Katsuki!!”

Bakugou swallowed hard. Your proximity was making it very hard to breathe. That light in your eyes, the one that was able to find happiness in even the smallest of things, he didn’t understand it.

It was the same kind of light that Deku had. How fucking annoying.

“Damn idiot.” He muttered as he turned your face away from you so that he wouldn’t be tempted to kiss your lips. They looked so soft…

Fuck, he was screwed over. Quick, he had to think of something else.

Luckily, the distraction came in the form of two very energetic boys barreling into the tent. You collapsed in a fit of giggles as Eijirou returned from his adventure and tunneled into you, Izuku tripping on the way in only to be caught by the back of his collar by a reluctant Bakugou.

Eijirou quickly fumbled with the DVD, holding the cartoons he and Izuku had selected together up proudly for you to see.

You cooed, pinching his cheeks and praised them for making such a good choice. This one was one of your favorites when you were younger and you hadn’t seen it in a while so this was as much a treat for them as it was for you.

The little tent was a bit more cramped than you had anticipated, especially with the two hyperactive boys added into the mix, but it was doable for now. Your leg was pressed up against Bakugou’s warm thigh but you tried not to think about it as you popped the DVD into the small TV you had set up on a table outside of the cozy fort.

Eijirou snuggled up in your lap while Izuku hesitated to climb onto a very comfy looking hothead, who was actually quite tame at the moment.

Unfolding his arms, Bakugou's lip curled back in a scowl. "Tch, hurry up, nerd."

You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything about his language because while Eijirou seemed largely unaffected by it, Izuku’s forest green eyes actually sparked as he recognized the indirect permission granted.

It was actually quite adorable how the boys could read the disgruntled older man like a book.

Bakugou attempted to hide it from you but he couldn't stop you from seeing how gently he rested his large hand on top of Izuku’s little green curls. The tent didn't provide that much privacy.

Not wanting him to stop showing the rare display of affection towards the affection-starved child, you averted your eyes so that he could carry on. You knew he would retract his hand so fast if he thought you were looking at them.

You didn't want to ruin the moment.

Snuggling back into the plushy pillow, you held onto Eijirou as he curled onto your stomach, straining to see the small screen that lit up with moving pictures.

“Izuku, it’s starting!!” He exclaimed excitedly.

There was a crash and then a loud swear and as you looked over to make sure that Izuku and Bakugou were both alright, you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing at the scene that you were presented with.

At Eijirou’s well intended announcement, Izuku had hurried upright, knocking back into Bakugou at the same time as he scrambled forward to be able to see.

But in doing so, he had tripped over the cord connecting the TV to the outlet that was behind you and fell forward. Right as the box came crashing down, aimed directly for his head.

Luckily, no one was hurt.

Bakugou had caught Izuku by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back, out of harm’s way before anything could happen to him.

Any other time, you would’ve voiced how impressed you were but now you were just worried about the little boy, who was openly crying, apologizing over and over again for breaking it.

“It’s alright, Izuku.” You reassured gently, patting his head comfortingly. His emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he blinked up at your, his freckled cheeks flushed an embarrassed shade of pink and your eyes softened. “You’re safe, so no harm done!! Don’t worry, okay?”

He sniffled and shakily nodded.

Bakugou had yet to say anything but his fingers were still curled protectively around Izuku’s stomach, ensuring that he didn’t move around carelessly. Next time, he might not be as lucky. Not that he was going to admit that he was scared or anything.

How fucking ridiculous.

While you switched out Eijirou with Izuku to calm him down, Bakugou took charge in cleaning up the shattered shards of cheap plastic that had broken upon impact.

Your TV wasn’t completely destroyed but the plastic screen had cracked at the corner. For something so old, it sure was robust, he’d give it credit for that.

Eijirou tugged on his hand, losing his balance and Bakugou’s arm shot out to prevent him from face-planting in the shards that he had just swept up.

“Watch what you’re doing, Shitty Hair.” He growled, concern masked under his sharp reprimanding and he glared at the now sheepish toddler.

“C’mere, Eiji.” You coaxed, waving your hand to have him come closer to you so that he was out of the way until Bakugou got rid of the small, clear pieces hiding on the floor. “I don’t want you to get hurt, so let’s stay out of his way, yeah?”

Eijirou nodded vigorously, finding the logic in your words with relative ease and agreeing with them instinctively.

Sighing to yourself, you unplugged the TV so that an electrical surge wouldn’t cause a fire. That was the last thing you needed.

You were sad that the boys were disappointed with the short-lived movie night. But Bakugou insists that he can fix it just like he fixed your front door so the three of you waited for him to work his magic while you curled up with a good book to read to them.

You had already asked if he wanted help but he glowered at you for suggesting such an insane thing and you backed off with a shit-eating grin.

After almost an hour of reading books and playing games to pass the time, he got it up and running again, laying the cable on top of the fort you built so that it was out of the way, making it impossible for anyone else to trip on it again.

This time, everything ran smoothly and all of you gorged yourselves on popcorn and soda as the cheesy cartoons played out on the screen, thoroughly entertaining the two little boys while you and Bakugou stole glances at each other the entire time.

By the time it finished, Izuku was already fast asleep and Eijirou was struggling to keep his eyes open.

You put them both to bed, Bakugou’s soft half-smile going over your head as you tucked them into the spare futon you had set up for them specifically, almost three months ago, when this all started.

“You’re too fucking soft.” Bakugou decided as you two went downstairs to let the boys sleep.

It was familiar, it was routine. After every night when they fell asleep, you two would stay up talking for hours about anything and everything.

He eventually opened up to you about the life he had been involved in before he met Aizawa, who saved his life. After that, he reformed, he got clean, the whole nine yards.

And you were proud of him.

You told him about your life, though it probably was nothing at all that interesting compared to his problems that he dealt with. But surprisingly, you found him nodding along understandingly as you voiced your hardships with being anti-social and having a bunch of insecurities and anxieties that often made talking to people a nerve-wracking experience and you were astonished to find the weight that uplifted as soon as he put in his two cents and said that he really did understand.

You skipped ahead of him, spinning around to tell him how much you’ve grown to look forward to your conversations when the guarded look on his face made the confession die on your lips.

“You okay?” You asked concernedly, approaching him cautiously to give him enough time to push you away if he wanted to be left alone.

He grunted in your direction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But he didn’t sound fine. His voice was strained and a bead of sweat ran down his forehead.

Biting your lip, you tilted your head contemplatively. Ice cream and books generally made you feel better when you had a bad day but you realized you had no idea what comforted him.

Gingerly, you took his hand and frowned when you saw the faded scars. He had been hurt.

“What do you need?” You asked softly and he sighed in defeat.

“What’s your favorite book?” He grumbled out and your mouth parted in surprise at the odd request.

Wordlessly, you led him over to the counter to grab the same book you had been reading that day he had first barged in and so rudely knocked you off your stool.

You held it up to him and still holding your hand, he led you in the back where you normally sat with the boys to read to them.

“Katsuki?” You questioned.

He gritted his teeth, mumbling something under his breath.

“Um…” You trailed off nervously. “C-Can you say it again? I didn’t really hear you…”

Bakugou whirled around and you squeaked at how close his face was to yours.

“Read it to me.” He demanded without pause and you would’ve laughed, thinking he was playing a prank on you if it had not been for his steely gaze.

“Okay…” You drew out slowly, wondering where this was suddenly coming about as you sat down on the tan leather sofa and patted the spot beside you, turning on the table lamp beside you so that you could see him. “Do you want me to start from the beginning? I’m not sure if you’ll even like this book, I have no idea what you like to read—”

Bakugou shook his head to cut off your anxious rambling, recognizing that it was stemming from your nervousness at him possibly judging you for what you liked to read and he leaned back, resting his arms behind his head.

“Doesn’t fucking matter.” He mumbled. “Just start.”

Even though you had numerous questions running through your head, you obliged and began reading, the words flowing off your lips with practiced ease.

Bakugou never told you but he was jealous of how you always read to the brats. Granted, he was a full-grown adult who shouldn’t pout in the corner when they got more attention than he did but it was so fucking stupid how soothing your voice was and how much of an effect it had on him. 

He could listen to you for hours and never get bored. Why do you think he always stuck around when you hopped up on the same tan leather sofa to read to those shitty kids?

It wasn’t just because he liked to look at your face, but it was because of the smile you had whenever you would read to them, that soft tilt of your head when the books evoked emotions from the children you were reading to and the giggle that bubbled past your lips when they laughed at something that the character did.

It never failed to do things to his heart.

Bakugou’s eyes eventually drifted closed after an hour of reading to him and you tensed when he careened into you by accident.

“Sorry.” He said shortly as he righted himself and you shyly reassured him that it was okay.

He didn’t say anything but you knew.

Ever since he got out of his old life, he had found a steady job but it was in construction and the risk was incredibly high. The hours were long and often the conditions were unforgiving. He had seen things happen on the daily and you were cautious to ever bring it up to him when he pressed closer to you than usual or who stayed longer by the front desk while you worked during operating hours.

You were about to stand up and leave so that he could sleep since he was obviously exhausted but his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t go.”

It was quiet and it wavered but you didn’t hesitate.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you eased him down and swallowed hard when his own encircled your waist, bringing you close to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised.

Head laying on his chest, your heartbeat eventually synced with the rise and fall of it and you drifted off, unaware that Bakugou sealed your promise with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

The fragments of his heart gently pieced itself back together as he held onto you as though you were his lifeline and he couldn’t help but whisper brokenly.

“Thank you.”

Bonus:

“Papa!!!”

“You’re back!!”

Aizawa held a finger up to his lips as his boys reached for him at the same time, chuckling softly as he caught them both as they launched into him. He didn’t change out of his military gear yet, he wanted to see them first.

“Shh… “ He hushed quietly, ruffling both of their heads at the same time. Damn, he missed them. “Y/N’s sleeping downstairs.”

Instantly, both the boys shut their mouths and shot out at the speed of light.

Aizawa followed them downstairs just in time to see the two of them screaming silently as they danced around in rings around their favorite couch that you and Bakugou were cozied up on.

Your face was tucked under Bakugou’s chin and you were sound asleep. Meanwhile, the man beside you had his arm draped over your waist, the other one supporting your head as a makeshift pillow. The blankets on top of you were rumpled, as though they had been kicked aside in favor of you both seeking out each other’s warmth.

It was cute. Aizawa admitted it was one of the most heartwarming things he’d ever seen.

“Don’t wake them up.” Aizawa instructed as Izuku reached out to touch Bakugou’s spiky hair since he wasn’t awake to tell him off. “Not yet.”

Eijirou was curious but a wide grin broke out on his face when his dad pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures.

“Oooo, Papa, can I?! Please?!?!”

Gesturing for him to lower his voice, Aizawa nodded and handed it off, watching Izuku and Eijriou briefly squabble about who got to use it first when they sorted it out amongst themselves and Izuku took the first turn.

You awoke to the sound of a shutter clicking right by your ear and blinking slowly, your eyes shot open and you jerked as you realized where you were.

And who you were with.

“Katsuki, get up!!” You hissed as the boys laughed loudly. Hell, even Aizawa cracked a smile and you threw him an apologetic look, though you didn’t know what it was for. “Katsuki!!”

He groaned and turned his face the other way.

This time, Aizawa couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Katsuki, huh?”

Bakugou turned back around and glared at the offending person smirking at him. “Shut the hell up.”

Aizawa clicked his tongue. “Respect your elders.”

“Oh f—”

“OKAY!!!” You shouted, clapping your hands together before he could cuss him out. “Who wants breakfast?”

“Oh, oh, oh, me!!!” Izuku cried, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Yay, food!!!” Eijirou cheered.

Bakugou blearily rubbed his eyes and yawned. Thank goodness he didn’t have to go in today. “Oi, didn’t you just eat?”

“Yeah, but that was last night!!” The little boy protested. “My stomach is hungryyyyy.”

“Fucking Shitty Hair.”

A warning tone came from Aizawa. “Bakugou.”

“... Sorry.”

“Coffee?” You offered to Aizawa as you all traveled back upstairs, the little ones racing ahead of you.

He sighed gratefully, blinking his eyes tiredly. “That sounds perfect.”

He was exhausted and the trip back was even more brutal than the one that took him to his destination. But he didn’t want to get into all of that now.

Eijirou and Izuku shot to their designated seats at the kitchen island and you put on an apron before pulling open the fridge to see what you could make.

“I meant what I said.” Bakugou confessed quietly while you cracked the eggs and prepared the bacon.

You didn’t look at him, not wanting to give it away to the other three who were watching you both like some kind of TV show.

“I know.” You murmured, a soft smile playing on the corners of your lips. “I did, too.”

Your heart fluttered as he boldly pressed a kiss to your temple and you blushed violently when the boys whooped and hollered at the two of you, Eijirou making faces of disgust and pretending to gag when Bakugou made it look like he was going to kiss you on the lips in front of them.

Aizawa chuckled as he handled the coffee machine, able to easily figure it out as he brewed enough for the both of you. “Look at that? You have learned how to play well with others, Bakugou.”

And this time, Bakugou didn’t even spare him a glance as he gazed at you until you looked his way.

“What?” You asked nervously, wondering if you had something on your face.

Bakugou hid a smirk.

“How ‘bout blueberry muffins to go along with that coffee, sweetheart?”