#others from drying out because I didn’t set up a hide properly and it ended up a dry spot

[littlewigglers]

Hello! I'm considering getting a couple of these cute forbidden spaghettis, do they do well when two different species are in the same terrarium?

Hey there!

I haven’t been keeping millipedes too long but I’ve had about 8 different species together in tanks(form tiny bumble bees to giant olives)for a few months now and haven’t noticed any real issues! The mid sized ones have even been breeding quite often together. I have only seen one pair “fight” but I’m not experienced enough to know if it was an actual fight or a mating rejections which even same species would do.

I would say the only major issue with keeping different species together is temperature, different species need different temperatures and it’s been an issue I’m still working out myself after ending up with so many since I bought all mine through discounted surprise boxes.

I did use to keep my woodlice colony in the big tank with them as a clean up crew but they grew in number real fast and I think the millipedes didn’t do great with them as they seemed to be eating their legs when they slept. Also the would likely eat any eggs laid.

I do keep a much slower breeding and smaller sized breed of armadillo isopods in there now and they seem fine with them, also spring tails which do a fantastic job at keeping mold from the food under control.

Also if you can manage to get juveniles instead of adults I’d recommend it, simply because with adults you’ve no idea if they’re already nearing their end by the time you get them, you’d also not have to worry about eggs and stuff as well.

I know the last part wasn’t asked but I hope this helps!

[unriding]

FLUFFTOBER DAY 21 — HORROR MOVIES! ft. yamato endo x f!reader ﾉ sfw + fluff ﾉ no other warnings ﾉ october masterlist

you’ve had some bad ideas, but this one has to be your worst. halloween night, sitting side by side with the man who has it in his dna to tease you, rank #1 for scariest movies in existence playing on the big TV, and your friends. the friends you’ve somehow managed to convince (through a dragged out lie) that there’s absolutely nothing in the world that can scare you.

A/N ﾉ my submission for @pixelcafe-network’s spooktober collab! + the link to the masterlist that contains everyone else’s pieces ^ ^ <3

You think you’d much rather be anywhere else in the world than here. In fact, watching a puddle of paint dry in your yard sounds pretty delightful- because at least this way, the paint would be the one feeling a watchful presence instead of you.

“Endo,” you warn through a clenched jaw, watching him tense beside you through your peripheral vision. “Stop looking at me.”

You just barely catch his lips tugging into an amused grin before his eyes land on the screen again. He’s still watching you, probably. Out of the corner of his eye- as annoying as it is- because as soon as another ear-piercing scream rips from one of the girls in the movie, you wince and hug your knees closer against your chest, and he’s grinning again.

Clearly getting a good kick out of your reactions- much to your dismay. You swear to yourself that if you weren’t in such an unfortunate situation, you’d give him a pinch to the cheek and an earful to go along with it.

But desperate situations call for desperate measures, so you’re left to hide your face deeper in your knees in a half-assed attempt to play off your terror as sleepiness. Maybe if you didn’t come up with the idea of telling them you were fearless, you could be spending your Halloween curled up on your bed reading a book instead.

Which definitely beats sitting next to Endo, you think. It’s not that you hate him or anything. In fact, a part of you is thankful that the couches are so small- forcing the two of you to press up against each other to make space for the others. It’s just that he knows too much.

In its own way, the warmth of his body provides you with some sort of comfort (though you’d never admit this to him). On the downside, however, there’s not a chance in the world that the nervous tremble of your body is going unnoticed by him. You wonder if that’s why he keeps pushing himself into you every few minutes- like a stray cat persistently nuzzling up against someone they want to go home with.

The other very unfortunate thing about your situation is that you desperately need to use the restroom, but one nervous glance at the hallway immediately kills any slim chance you might’ve had at going on your own.

It’s dark. Pitch black. There’s not one light turned on in the entire house aside from the movie playing out in front of the group, but two hard blinks and a squint for extra measure confirm that there isn’t anything standing in the hallway- for now at least.

“No one’ll judge you if you’re a scaredy pants, y’know.”

You almost jump at the sound of his voice. “I’m not scared,” you respond a bit too fast to come off as unbothered, “and stop looking at me.”

“Hm… if you say so.” His eyes are still on the screen, but he’s smiling once again. “I can always guard you while you pee.”

“No way.”

“Aw..” he feigns disappointment, but perks up when you turn to properly look at him now. “C’mon... why not? It’ll be like a princess and her loyal guard.”

The suggestion makes your face heat up a bit. If your entire friend group hasn’t been actively trying to set you two up for the past few weeks, you’d probably be more likely to accept his help.

“You know it’ll look weird if you come with me to the bathroom,” your voice drops to a whisper because you’re certain you’d never hear the end of this if they saw you two heading there together. “Because if a guy….”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

You give him a look, and he gives you a sheepish laugh in return. “Fine, fine. Don’t look at me like that. I won’t.” He starts to slip off his jacket. “But… don’t blame me if you get eaten alive on your way there.”

An irritated huff slips out of you, but the thought of him protecting you from afar doesn’t seem all that bad. Maybe he might make it to your side in time if a ghost was actually out to get you.

“I said I wasn’t scared of silly things like that.”

He almost laughs at this- you can tell from the way his lips curl up into another smile, and you almost tell him that you think he’s having just a bit too much fun from all this, but he stops you as soon as you open your mouth. “That’s right. I almost forgot again.”

“Then at least take this, princess,” he drapes his jacket around you, hand briefly brushing against your shoulder and your eyes widen. “H-huh? What’re you—”

“Think of it as ghost repellent. To ward off bad things. And….” he leans a little closer now, until his lips brush against the shell of your ear so he can whisper, “don’t worry. I won’t tell them you’re a scaredy cat even if you run back.”

dividers by @adornedwithlight

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Lunch Break - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Suggestive Content and Dialogue, Blue Balls; Third Person POV, No Y/N, No Physical Description of Reader

If you're a MINOR, please do me a favor and read SOMETHING ELSE.

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Jake and his wife are going through a dry spell. Luckily, his secretary Linda is the best wingwoman in all of Miramar.

Master List

It wasn’t odd for Jake’s wife and the secretary in his office to communicate. But every time that Linda’s, Jake’s secretary, contact popped up, Jake’s wife always felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her mind always just went to the worst-case scenario, considering Jake's line of work. So, when she saw Linda’s name pop up, she quickly answered the phone call.

“Hi, Linda. What’s going on?” she asked worriedly, failing to hide her concern from her tone.

“Hi, sweetheart. Everything’s fine,” Linda, Jake’s secretary, immediately assured her.

“He’s in one piece?”

“Yes, he’s in one piece. He’s doing just fine.”

“But?” Jake’s wife pressed knowingly.

“But he’s in a little bit of a mood today to be quite honest with you,” Linda explained quietly, using a voice that she reserved for personal conversations.

“He’s annoyed with everyone?”

“Well, he just seems a bit cranky and snappish. I was just wondering if it was a slipping him a third coffee because he didn’t get enough sleep kind of day.”

“No, I don’t think that it,” Jake’s wife replied honestly, resting her head on her hand.

Jake’s wife had a pretty good guess about what was wrong with Jake but she didn’t know how to articulate it properly to Linda. It wasn’t exactly a secret between her and Jake that they were going through a dry spell. He was working. She was working. He was trying to get a promotion. They just moved into a new house and so when she wasn’t working, she was stressing about that.

So, yeah, they were going through a dry spell.

It happened. They went months on end without something as simple as eye contact when Jake was deployed. So, in a way, they were used to it. But, in some other ways, it was worse. They slept right beside each other every night. But they went to bed at different times and one of them was always tired or needed up get up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning and it just fizzled.

They still cuddled and talked and participated in other non-sexual forms of intimacy. But they really needed some physical intimacy in their relationship. And they needed it about three weeks ago.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” Jake’s wife informed Linda. “And don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be stopping by for lunch, if you can pencil me in.”

“Sure thing. I’ll get you two as much time as I can.”

“Thanks, Linda.”

Jake’s wife hung up the phone and headed up to their shared bedroom. As she worked remotely, she had the flexibility to take an extended lunch break. She changed into Jake’s favorite set and the sundress that he bought her when they temporarily lived in Italy. He nearly ripped it off of her the first time that she wore it and that was the exact effect she was going for.

Shoving some supplies into her purse, Jake’s wife headed out of the house to pick up lunch for the both of them. When she arrived on base, Jake was still in a debriefing, so Jake’s wife went to simply hang out with Linda until he finished up.

Linda had a good relationship with both Seresins. She had been the secretary for the flight instructors on base since forever. And Linda basically adopted Jake since they were both originally from Texas. Linda was like a second mom to them and was at their wedding. So, if Linda told her that he was in a bad, snappy mood, Jake’s wife believed her. And she took the warning seriously.

“Oh, that’s a lovely sundress, dear,” Linda complimented her as Jake’s wife sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs. “You look beautiful in it.”

“Thanks, Linda. Jake bought it for me back in Italy.”

“Ah,” Linda realized, nodding along with a knowing smile. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“Yeah,” Jake’s wife sighed, smoothing out the fabric.

“Oh, it happens to all of us, dear.”

“I know. It’s just that between work and the new house and everything, we haven’t got a lot of alone time,” Jake’s wife explained quietly, shifting in her seat. “But thank you for calling me. I just don’t want him to put his foot in his mouth because we can’t communicate in our own home.”

“Of course, honey. Any time.”

Jake’s wife and Linda chatted for a bit longer until Jake arrived. He carried a large stack of files with him and Jake’s wife could tell by the way that he walked that he was annoyed. But when he spotted his wife sitting there, a new wave of energy and life seemed to wash over him in an instant.

“Baby? What are you doing here?” he called, walking over to her.

“I just thought that I would visit you and bring you some lunch,” his wife replied with a bright smile. Jake leaned down and pressed a peck to her lips before straightening up. “And I checked with Linda and she said that your meeting got pushed back.”

“It did?” Jake asked curiously, turning to Linda.

“Forty-five minutes,” Linda informed him with an encouraging smile.

“Ah,” Jake realized, nodding slowly. He turned to his wife with that particular brand of lovesickness that still made her heart flutter just like it did when they first met. “Well, then I can’t find any reason at all to not invite you back.”

Jake offered his wife a hand and they walked back into his office, shutting the door behind them. Linda chuckled to herself when the lock on the door audibly clicked.

Jake’s wife went to set the takeout bag on the desk, but Jake quickly grabbed it from her hand and set it aside. She giggled as Jake quickly set her up on his desk and stood in between her legs. He gently cupped her cheeks and tilted her head up, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones.

“Hey,” she breathed out, smiling softly at him.

“Linda told you about the meeting?” Jake asked, putting two and two together.

“She thought that you were being a little snappy. And well,” Jake’s wife trailed off, tugging at his belt, “I had a pretty good inkling as to why you were like that.”

“I don’t even want to know how long it’s been,” Jake muttered, pulling her lips up.

Their lips met in a desperate embrace as the acknowledgement of their dry spell took hold of them. Touches grew more needy, the kisses got sloppier, and it didn’t escape either of their minds that they were in Jake’s office. Sure, Linda would guard the door, but they were still in the offices. As if Jake needed any more motivation to reacquaint himself with his wife.

“Too fucking long,” Jake growled, grinding against her.

They were on a time crunch, so Jake couldn’t take his time, but he was going to rectify that problem when he got home that night. Jake’s wife’s grip on him tightened when he rolled his hips just right and let out a whine that had Jake grinning in an instant. Pulling away from the kiss, Jake’s wife leaned up and brushed her lips against his ear.

“Then fix that, Commander,” she whispered sultrily.

And well, Jake was never one to disappoint his wife.

Ten minutes before his next meeting, Jake and his wife emerged from his office. Linda respectfully averted her eyes. But it didn’t take an extra-long stare to notice the wrinkles in Jake’s shirt or the fact that Jake’s wife’s dress was twisted on her body and far more rumpled than before.

“I’m just going to walk her back to her car and then I’ll head to the next meeting,” Jake informed Linda quietly as he held his wife’s hand.

“I’ll let him know that you’re meeting him there,” Linda assured Jake. Turning to Jake’s wife, Linda waved kindly. “Bye, dear.”

“Bye, Linda. Thanks for the call,” Jake’s wife replied, looking quite giddy and just a bit stumbly.

“Anytime. Have a good day.”

Jake and his wife walked out to the visitor parking lot. When they reached her car, Jake gently pressed her up against it and stole another heated kiss from her. Jake snuck a squeeze up her dress, earning a playful smack to the chest in return.

“When do you get off of work?” Jake’s wife asked him, smoothing out the wrinkles on his shirt.

“I’ll be home by six,” Jake promised, stealing another kiss from her. “You have a lot of work tonight?”

“I’ll make time,” she returned, unable to help her smile. “Just don’t be late.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jake pulled his wife in for one last kiss that got just a little friskier than it should have in a base parking lot, but neither of them cared. And with one last playful smack to her ass, Jake sent his wife home and then turned to sprint at break-neck speed to his next meeting.

[zuluc]

summary: how the genshin boys give hugs

characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: a self-indulgent fic for my birthday yay, i hope you guys enjoy this I just really want a hug but it’s hard to see friends right now 🤧🤧

Childe

sometimes a side hug or quick embrace; sometimes not because there are days he never wants to let you go

his outward persona is lost because he trusts you

once his arms come around you, you feel like the life is being squeezed out of you, in a good way of course

there are still traces of his past he has yet to share but he wants you to know how much you mean to him

Paimon had stayed behind to finish that chop suey Su Er'niang offered you both. You finished your share, giving some to your companion, and you left to sight-see around Liyue. 

It’s different from Mondstadt and there were quite a bit of things to get done here for your journey. Your feet take you to the stairs leading up to the Wanwen Bookstore and you hope no one has bought out the book you wanted to finish.

Before you could take a step upwards, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you into a small alley. You hand comes up to summon your sword but then your vision is obscured by a head of copper hair. You gasp when his arms tighten around your torso while he heaves a sigh beside your ear. He lets go after a few seconds and you can see the smile on his face.

“Just a recharge,” Childe winks and turns around to get back to what he was doing.

Diluc

he gives the type of hugs that hold so much emotion that he hides from the public

his body runs warm and appreciates when you snuggle further into him when he has you

his hugs are never quick and he likes to take his time, his hold tight enough to make you feel safe but loose enough to allow you to leave if you so wish

rarely initiates them but will take full control when you’re in private

You could tell when the work he had was becoming too much for the night. The annoyance tainted his handsome features and you just wanted to take it all away. Diluc worked hard, everyone knew that, but he was only human. 

You give him the letter Jean wrote out and proceed towards the door to get back to your own duties. Your name rolls off his lips and when you turn around to look at him he’s gesturing for you to get closer. When you’re mere inches from his desk he stands up and places one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, burying his face into your neck.

The temperature outside was chilly and his naturally warm body contrasts to how you felt prior. You can feel him frown against you when he feels how cold your skin is.

“Will you be coming back tonight?”

Kaeya

he gives you many hugs, anywhere and at anytime

there isn’t a day where you never receive one and if that every happens, the next day will include even more

will almost always lift you off your feet and/or catch you off guard; he likes to keep you on your toes

even when you’re just standing around waiting for another mission or watching the sun set he’ll hold you close against his side

He’s late. Again. 

You finished off the last of the slimes around Starfell Lake with little to no damage to yourself, luckily, but someone was supposed to assist you to get the job done faster. You look around for any more enemies before kneeling down and dipping your hand into the water. It was cool against your skin, relaxing you after the day’s work. But it might have been just a bit too peaceful.

A force pushes you forward and you close your eyes to brace for the inevitable impact into the water. You wait a few seconds before realizing that you are still very much dry, but there’s something blocking you from lifting your arms. Kaeya chuckles behind you as you lightly hit his arm, hugging you tight.

“I got you,” he says with a smile.

Razor

he’s an awkward hugger, mostly because he doesn’t know how these things work as well as that he doesn’t want to hurt you

he doesn’t know where to put his hands and they usually end up against his sides before he realizes that he makes you think he doesn’t like them

when he gets more comfortable, his hugs are gentle and soft

he grew up with the wolves and these types of things just didn’t happen, but you make his heart soar

He’s taking a casual walk in Wolvendom to reflect on what Lupus Boreas had told him only days ago. He wasn’t a wolf, he was human, but he couldn’t accept it so quickly. His mind wanders and he doesn’t hear the steps, or rather running, behind him. It’s only until you jump on his back that he realizes.

You knew that he was thinking about what happened and you wanted to return as fast as you could to check on him. You slide off his back and he gives you a forced grin. Razor avoids your gaze but you place your hands on his shoulders to square them towards you.

He appreciates your presence and he wants nothing more than comfort, hands twitching at his sides. You’re aware of his little signals and smile when you hug him tightly. He closes his eyes and breaths in your calming scent while hugging you back with care.

“Thank you.”

Venti

there’s a sense of happiness once he hugs you because it just makes you feel lighter and free

there seems to always be a slight breeze about him and you can feel it brush your face when you rest your head on his shoulder

he comes and goes but never forgets to hug you before and after he returns to see you

his hold can range from very loose to holding on just a bit tighter

Venti left a month ago and you knew that’s just how his way of life was. He was never one to stay place for too long, much like the wind you would say. You yourself were someone who likes to travel around, but everything always brought you back to Mondstadt. 

You stand overlooking the city at “your usual place,” as he liked to call it, for some peace of mind. You sit on the edge of the statue’s outstretched hands and lean back on your hands to take in the view. A soft breeze passes by you and your ears pick up a quiet sound behind you. You smile and stand up, immediately wrapping your arms around him. 

His own naturally fall in place behind your back and a light laugh escapes his lips. It was nice to see you again, as always.

“Missed me?”

Xiao

he used to be so stiff when he first started hugging you as he never had physical contact with anyone

being you, he warms up and learns how to properly hug someone

will have a hand behind your head because he wants to make sure that every part you of is against him

he’s very protective of you in general and it gives him a peace of mind knowing he can keep an eye on you in this way

You’re sleeping, sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest as he sits on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You came to him only a few moments ago and it was clear that you took the time to clear out nearby hilichurl camps due to the small scratches and bruises you had on you.

Xiao narrows his eyes at more of the culprits across the water on the little islands, making a note to do something with them later. You mumble in your sleep and he looks down to see your brows furrowed. He cups your face gently and smooths his thumb over your cheek which causes your face to return to it’s peaceful state and you move closer to him. 

It was surprising that he fell for someone. You made your way into his life so unexpectedly and now he just wanted to take care of you. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Rest well.”

Xingqiu

very proper hugs because they are reciprocated in with the same energy, or even more, than the ones you may give him

he has no problem in giving you hugs away from prying eyes

he would usually whisk you away onto adventures with him with a promise of them

will get flustered when you hug him while saying just how much you appreciate him

You’re amused at the way he presents himself to others and talks to them as expected of him. Xingqiu was known to be mild- and well-mannered as his mischievous side was hidden from those not so close to him.

You both manage to escape the party, standing beside each other as you look up into the night sky. He feels less restricted with you and he takes this opportunity to lace his fingers through yours. You give him a fond smile and return to staring at the stars.

An idea pops into your head and you let go of his hand, him giving you a questioning look before he is brought into a hug. Xingqiu blushes at the suddenness of your actions but returns it nonetheless. His eyes keep diverting to the house so you have to reassure him that no one can see the both of you. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Zhongli

he enjoys hugging, contrary to what most might think

he likes the intimate feeling and being close to someone he loves in such a sweet way that can be done anywhere

he will never deny you of the affection and if you initiate it he will go through with it no matter what

he’s always looking at you paired with a soft smile on his face whenever he has you in his arms

Zhongli’s voice pierces the quiet as you both take a stroll outside of Liyue. He’s telling you of its history and old traditions that have disappeared throughout the years, but you’re becoming tired due to the sound of his voice.

When you’re out of sight from the guards at the front gates you give a slight tug to the end of his coat sleeve. He stops in the middle of his story and sees that your eyes are growing weary. You keep your hold on his sleeve until you pull yourself to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and content with the sound of the night as you’re against him. 

He holds you close, making sure that you’re not actually asleep as it would make for a very interesting walk back. You tell him that you’re just resting your eyes for a few moments and that he can keep talking. That you love the sound of his voice. Zhongli places a kiss to your forehead as he continues, adoration for you clear in his eyes.

“Now, where was I...”

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Insult To Injury

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Description: On his hunt for Eddie, Jason Carver ends up in your apartment. You start to let it get to your head.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, paranoia, panic attack, skin picking, blood mention, cursing

Word Count: 3034

Notes: This has a happy ending I swear

As you emerged from the stairwell of your somewhat decaying apartment building, you noticed that your front door was open. You knew you’d locked it, you’d triple checked it before you left. 

Someone had to have picked the lock. 

You’d only swung by to grab a change of clothes for Eddie. You had a few of his things tucked away in one of your dresser drawers for the nights when he’d stay over. With everything going on, you figured some clean, dry clothes would probably be greatly appreciated. 

You could hear commotion coming from the back of the space. Voices. You carefully pushed the door open, just wide enough for you to be able to slip through. The hinges of the old door creaked as you entered and whoever was in your apartment must have heard it, because the voices all stopped. You froze, your eyes catching a shadow move across the floor outside of your bedroom. 

“Dude, she’s back!”

“Yeah, no shit.” You recognized that voice. It belonged to Jason Carver, the one person (well, one of many) you were trying the hardest to hide from.

“What do we do?”

“You, don’t do anything. I’ll talk to her.”

“But-”

“Shut up and stay here!” Jason said as he walked out of your room. He looked at you like you were a caged animal; like a tiger trapped inside of a little box at the circus. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” you questioned. Your hand entered  your bag and you gripped your pepper spray tightly, ready to whip out the canister should you need to.

“We’re just here to help you, okay?” Jason said as he took a few steps closer to you. You pulled the pepper spray out at his movement. He had his hand outstretched in front of him. Maybe it was to calm you. Maybe it was to grab you in case you tried to fight back. “Do you know where Eddie is?”

“No,” you lied. You paused for a moment, trying to think through your next move.

“Okay,” Jason accepted. You seriously doubted that he believed you. “Does he know that you're here right now?”

“No.” You shook your head. That one was true. Eddie thought you were on a grocery run with the others.

“That’s good,” Jason said. He seemed to have a moment of genuine relief when you said that. 

“Is it?” You were ready to fight back, ready to use your pepper spray and kick the shit out of these assho-

“That means he can’t come after you.”

What?

The statement threw you so wildly off guard that you faltered in your fighting stance, dropping your shoulders. 

“After what he did to Chrissy, I mean,” Jason started. “It’s only a matter of time before he tries to pull that shit again.”

You don’t say anything, just continue to give Jason a quizzical look. It took you a second to properly process what he said, what he was insinuating.

“Eddie didn’t do anything to Chrissy,” you said, your fear having now transformed into searing anger. “And he definitely wouldn’t do anything to me.”

“Do you know that, though?” Jason was now only a step or two from you. He carefully took the pepper spray from you and set it down on your kitchen counter. “Do you really know that? For sure?”

“Yes!” you shout back, ripping your arm away from him. “Yes!”

Jason turned his head and gave a glance to his teammates behind him, who had shown themselves after hearing your yelling. He shook his head at them, telling them not to intervene. 

“I don’t know what he’s put into your head, but he’s dangerous.” Jason leaned down so his face was level with yours. You were fuming with rage at his words. Eddie would never do anything like that to anyone, much less to you. “He’s manipulating you. Lying to you.”

“He’s not! He’s. . .” you stuttered. The statements shocked you; you found it hard to come up with what to say next, but you stood your ground anyway. “He’s not.”

“I know this is a lot, I get that,” Jason said, lowering the volume of his voice. He could see just how angry you were, anyone within 50 feet of you would have been able to see it. “But I can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

The rage in your chest slowly began to dissipate. Think clearly. Eddie would never do anything to hurt you. You’d heard Dustin and the rest of them explain about the monsters that lived beneath your small town, about how it explained what had happened to Chrissy. They all believed him. You believed him.

Right?

“Do you have someone you can stay with?” Jason asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. You felt tears well up in your eyes. This was all too much, too much, too much. The pace of your breathing picked up and you stared off into space, too lost in thought to respond. “How about this? I’ll call Officer Powell. We can get some officers over here and you can talk to them, and they can get you some help, okay?”

You turned your wide gaze up to him. You absolutely did not want to talk to Officer Powell. Jason took your fearful gaze as a yes, however, and turned back down the hallway to use the phone hooked to your wall. The few teammates behind him followed suit. Jason dialed the number of the police station and, before he could even finish greeting the secretary on the other line, he heard the shuffle of your sneakers on the floor and the creak of the structure's old door hinges as you darted out of the apartment building as quickly as you could. 

You made it out to your beat up old car. You didn’t bother to check and see if Jason or any of his cronies had followed you out of the building until you’d driven a mile or two away. The only thing on your mind was getting out of there and warning the others. Once you were sure the coast was clear, you floored it to the cabin in which Eddie and the others were staying. 

You trusted Eddie. You trusted Dustin and Steve. You weren’t with Eddie when Chrissy died, you hadn’t seen it, but the look of utter terror in his eyes, the way his hands shook as you took that broken beer bottle away from him, had confirmed that, at the very least, he’d seen something truly awful that night. There was no way in hell that he could’ve done something like that. 

Yet, Jason’s words still rattled around in our head. ‘He’s dangerous. He’s manipulating you.’  Sure, Eddie may have spray painted a few old office buildings or sold a few drugs here and there, but he wasn’t this dangerous criminal mastermind that Jason was trying to paint him as.

‘Selling ketamine to teenagers is more than a few drugs here and there,’ you thought to yourself. Okay, that was true. Eddie was maybe a step up from your average petty highschool delinquent, but he almost cried after hitting a raccoon with his van while he was driving you home last week. He’d been upset about it all night, and-

‘That’s hardly proof of innocence, and you know it,’ that voice in your head uttered. You let out a shaky sigh and the already tight grip you held on your steering wheel tightened even more. You couldn’t let yourself go down that hole. Eddie was innocent. Dustin was telling the truth. End of story.

When you finally got to the cabin, you saw that Steve’s car was still parked out front. 

“Oh, thank god,” you uttered to yourself. You had been afraid that they would’ve already left. 

You parked your car, got out and slammed the door behind you. The intense anxiety that you’d felt when you saw the open apartment door had crept its way back into your head over the long drive. You barreled through the door of the boat shed, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. You must’ve scared them all half to death, but you honestly weren’t really thinking about that right now. You scanned the room. You didn’t see Eddie immediately; he must have tucked himself under the tarp that was lying across the rusty old motorboat. 

Once the gang realized that it was you that had barged in on their little fugitive party, there was a collective sigh of relief. That relief was short lived, though, as Steve quickly noticed the tears rimming your eyes and the tremble in your shoulders. 

“Hey, woah, what happened?!” Steve questioned. He ran over to you and placed his hands onto either shoulder. Eddie pulled the blue tarp down from over his face, sensing that something was wrong. As soon as he saw that it was you and realized how upset you were, he scrambled out of the boat and came running to your side as well. 

The floodgates opened, your anxious tears now streaming down your face. You tried to speak, to get any words to come out at all, but you just couldn’t. Eddie went to place a hand on your arm, and you didn’t notice how quickly you flinched away at his touch, or the look of concern and hurt that graced his features because of it. Steve did, though, and shot a worried glance to Eddie, who sent one right back to him. Steve pulled you into a tight hug. 

You sniffled and pulled away after a moment. Now that you had calmed down some, you began to explain.

“Jason was in my apartment,” you stated.

“What?”

“He must’ve picked the lock. Or someone did. Either way, he was there, waiting for me,” you said. You began picking at the edges of your finger nails, something you used to do when you got nervous. You’d been able to keep it in check, but lately, you’d started doing it again. In any other situation, Eddie would’ve taken one of your hands in his and had you fiddle with one of his rings. This time though, after you’d flinched away from him earlier, he didn’t risk trying that. He didn’t know if his heart would be able to take you ripping your hand away from his. “I don’t know how he got the address.”

“So, he was looking for Eddie there? Did he think that’s where he was hiding?” Robin asked from her spot against the wall. You stayed quiet for a moment.

“I,” you stuttered out. “I think he was looking for me.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to be angry. 

“You? What would he want with you?” Eddie asked, his voice slightly raised in anger. You shut your eyes at the outburst, even though you had expected it. 

“He asked if I was safe, if I had somewhere to stay,” you said quietly. You didn’t want to keep going. You wanted to shut your mouth and curl into a little ball on the ground. You couldn’t look any of them in the eye as you said it. “He thinks that you’re going to come after me next.”

It felt wrong to say, like you were cursing in a church. The statement left an ache in your chest and you didn’t need to look at Eddie’s face to know how upset he was. You could feel it radiating off of him, rippling through the whole space, hot and angry. 

“He said that to you?!” Eddie balled his hands into fists at his sides. You kept staring at your shoes. “How could he even think that! I swear to God, I-” 

“Hey! Let’s just take a breath, okay?” Dustin interrupted Eddie in his angry raving. Someone had to keep the peace. “Did he say anything else to you?”

“He wanted me to talk to Officer Powell, but I didn’t stick around long enough for that.” You shook your head. You lowered yourself to the unfinished wood floor, pulling your knees close to your chest. “He was talking to me like I was an abused dog, or something. Like I was trapped by you.”

You finally lifted your gaze to meet Eddie’s. The look of anger in his brows had softened. He looked wounded, almost. He could feel the words coming out of your mouth as spears to his chest. 

A silence fell onto the group. Nobody really knew what to say next. You felt dirty, almost. You wanted nothing more than to scrub yourself of the awful feeling Jason’s pitying gaze left on your skin. It had made you feel small and helpless. Eddie had a look on his face that made you think he was feeling pretty small and helpless right now, too.

Nancy, ever the rational one, spoke up next.

“Do you think they followed you here?” she asked. She had her arms crossed tightly in front of her. 

“No,” you said. “Nobody was following me.”

“Good. At least we can still be sure that nobody knows you’re here,” Nancy responded, looking over at Eddie. He had sat himself down on the floor of the shed, his shoulders pointed inwards. He looked like a small child being chastised by his schoolteacher. 

The group started to come up with a gameplan for what to do next. Dustin and Robin were chattering away in one corner, Steve and Nancy doing the same in another. Max had taken up guard duty, and was watching out the window with her headphones on. You and Eddie stayed firmly planted in your respective spots on the floor on opposite sides of the shed. You were almost afraid to look at him, and Eddie was afraid of scaring you anymore. He felt like there was more to the story, more going on in your head that you weren’t sharing with the group. He noticed how you wouldn’t meet his gaze. That, paired with how determined you were to keep your distance from him, made his heart ache. 

Steve looked over at where you were sitting. You were still picking at your fingernails. 

“You okay?” he asked as he sat down next to you.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you responded, eyes glued to the graying wood beneath you. “Just, uh, just thinking.”

“Don’t let anything Jason told you get into your head, alright?” Steve turned his gaze to the ground as well. “He’s just trying to use you to get to Eddie, that’s all.”

“I know, I know,” you said, letting out a sigh.

“You’re not starting to believe him, are you?” Steve questioned. Despite the sarcastic lilt in his voice, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“No! No, god no. Eddie won’t even kill the spiders in my apartment. There’s no way he could’ve done any of this.” Your gaze shifted, now pointing upwards into the roof of the shed. You noticed a few holes that were allowing soft beams of sunlight to poke through the dusty air.

“But. . .” Steve continued your sentence for you.

“It’s starting to get really hard to believe some of this, Steve,” you responded, barely above a whisper. “I mean, monsters, demons, alternate dimensions? And with all that stuff Jason said, it’s like. . . ”

“Like what?”

“It feels like I can’t even trust my own thoughts at this point,” you muttered as you dropped your head into your hands. You really didn’t want to cry again, but it seemed like it was all you could do right now. Before this, you’d been so sure of everything. So sure of you and Eddie’s future. Now, though? After your whole world had been flipped on its head? You weren’t sure of anything. “I know what Jason said isn’t true. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me like this. It’s just that, those thoughts, they get into your head and they’re so much louder than all of the other ones. You know you should ignore them, you want to be able to ignore them, but they make it so hard.” 

You let out a small sob. Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulder and locked eyes with Eddie, who had been listening to every word as if his life depended on it. Steve, letting out a quiet sigh, got up and walked over to where Eddie was watching you. You saw Steve whisper something to him, and Eddie whisper something back with wide eyes. Eddie looked back over at you and you quickly dropped your gaze.

You felt as someone sat down next to you. You knew it was Eddie. You still didn’t look up. 

“Hi,” he said to you quietly.

“Hi,” you whispered back. You paused for a moment before you spoke again, your voice hoarse from crying. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Eddie’s voice was laced with concern. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m probably making you feel ten times worse than you already do,” you muttered. You knew it was true, even if Eddie tried to claim otherwise. “The whole town thinks you’re a murderer and then your girlfriend starts to believe them? That can’t be very comforting.”

Eddie slowly took your hand, bracing himself in case you flinched away again. To his relief, you didn’t pull back from him. His thumb carefully ghosted over your fingertips where you’d picked at the skin. You’d left it shredded, and it was beginning to bleed in places. 

“I think if there’s anybody who needs to be sorry, it'd be Jason,” Eddie said as he brought your hand closer to himself. “That prick.”

You let out a small laugh at that, which made Eddie laugh a little bit too. He scooched an inch or two closer to you, testing the waters by letting his knee bump into the side of your leg. You leaned into him, and he planted a kiss onto the top of your head as he snaked an arm around your waist. You could smell the cigarette smoke that stuck to his jacket and the scent of his shampoo. It was comforting, even after he’d been on the run for days. 

He held you tightly. You held him back. 

[sunphroggy]

alright I have an au idea that im about to badly explain but it's a little strange so stick with me.

I call it: 'The Parent Trap but Opposite' au

So picture this: Tommy is Phil's only child, right. His mother died in childbirth so for his entire eight years of life its just been him and Phil. And that's fine, that's great, he loves it. Tommy doesn't want another addition to the family, it would only screw everything up.

That being said, Phil is lonely. Don't get him wrong, he loves his son and loves spending time with him, but he misses the feeling of being in love. He misses his wife.

Enter, Kristen.

They meet on a blind date, set up by a friend from Phil's work, and hit it off instantly. Months pass and Phil wants to propose.

One problem though. He hasnt told Tommy about it. He hasn't even introduced Kristen to him.

So what better way to merge both families that a holiday?

(I should probably say here that Kristen also has children. Take a wild guess who they are.)

Tommy is all for a holiday. Two weeks at a fancy ass hotel with room service, an arcade and a pool? Sign him up!

That is until, he finds out that Kristen and her boys will be joining them.

Enter, Wilbur and Techno.

(They're about fourteen. Their parents are divorced and, unlike Tommy, they knew Kristen was seeing Phil. They alse know that Phil is gonna propose - well, it's just a hunch)

Phil, god bless him, tries his hardest to get Tommy to warm up to Kristen, Wilbur and Techno. He plans all these activities and takes them all shopping, to the beach, to waterparks ect. But Tommy just won't take to them; he doesn't mind Kristen but Wilbur and Techno are weird, they keep making these cryptic comments about how they're going to be seeing eachother a lot in the future and Tommy just does not understand.

That is, until they decide to let Tommy in on the obvious.

Tommy, as expected, is in denial. Because there's no way his dad would do something like that without telling him first. Besides, Phil doesn't need to get married, they're perfectly happy just the two of them.

There's just no way.

Right?

Wrong.

Because Tommy is a curious little shit and he ransacks his and Phil's hotel room in search for the ring. He doesn't find it, of course, because Phil is used to Tommy's little raccoon tactics and hid it properly. But when he comes back from dinner with Kristen to a destroyed room and a confused Tommy, he decides to tell him the truth.

Needless to say Tommy has a fit. One moment, he's happy; just him and dad, living life. And then this lady and her shitty sons come along and fucks that up

(I imagine the conversation being something like:

Phil: Yeah im gonna propose Kristen

Tommy, inhaling deeply: *screams*

And then it would proceed to reinact that once scene from Steven universe with ruby and sapphire like-

phil: he'll eventually tire himself out :'D

Tommy, making even more of a mess than he already has: that's what you think! I am an eternal flame baby!! >:(

Yeah.)

Tommy, ever the drama queen, storms to Wilbur and Techno - who are like "we told you so :/" - and the three of them (because Techno and Wilbur also do not want this little racoon gremlin hybrid in their home either) team up and plan to ruin the proposal. The only problem, they don't know when Phil is gonna actually propose.

And this...this is where the hijinks and shenanigans ensue.

They just like, constantly ruin Phil and Kristen's date nights with their dumb shit.

(I'm thinking shit like the three of them stacked on each others shoulders in a trench coat pretending to be a waiter at the hotel restaurant Phil and Kristen are eating at and constantly spilling drinks and food of them whenever it looks like Phil is about to pop the question; following them on walks under the stars, hiding in bushes with binoculars and making birds attack them; tackling Phil into the pool ect. ect. ect.)

But, plot twist, while pulling off these epic plans, the three of them...bond! Dun dun dunnnnn!!! Wilbur and Techno actually grow to like Tommy and think "Hey, maybe this kid ain't so bad" so they back out on the plans and try to convince Tommy to do the same. He won't.

(Meanwhile, Phil is just wondering why all his proposal attempts have gone so fucking wrong like???)

Anyways, fast forward. Its the last day of their holiday the two families go out for dinner. Its nice, they're having a good time, Kristen is chatting away to Tommy about Minecraft and Tommy is happy to tell her all about his favourite game. And then, Phil clears his throat.

He starts talking about Kristen and how happy he makes her, and Tommy can tell what's coming the moment Phil reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small black box. And, in a final attempt to keep the life he has, Tommy snatches the box out of Phil's hand and fucking runs.

He runs right out of the restaurant, ignoring everyone calling after him, and doesn't stop running until he's on the beach, where he hides. And he cries. He cries because his dad is gonna replace him with Techno and Wilbur, and he misses his mum even though he never met her, and because this he knows that stealing a ring and running away isn't gonna stop this proposal from happening, and because the only family dynamic he knows is going to change and he isn't ready for that. And it's just a big angst moment.

And then some fluff.

Kristen finds him hidden by the rocks, and Tommy quickly pretends he wasn't just crying bc he's a big man and shit like that. He half expects her to immediately call for Phil and then for Phil to disown him, but instead she sits with him.

She asks if he's OK and when he doesnt answer her she just goes on talking about random things as if Tommy didn't just ruin their entire holiday (about shit like how she thought the cake at the restaurant was too dry and about the stars and different constellations and she even continues asking him about minecraft) and Tommy, after a while, talks back to her.

They talk for a while, arguing about the best Minecraft block (Tommy wholeheartedly defending cobblestone like his life depends on it) until eventually Kristen asks why he did what he did. And Tommy explains everything (that can basically be summed up in "I'm scared of change")

It's just a wholesome moment really. They're just sitting behind a bunch of rocks, Tommy is spilling his guts and Kristen is just listening. And at then end of it she's there to give him a big hug.

(I imagine Tommy saying that one cliche line "please don't hurt my dad" and Kristen being like "I wouldn't dream of it" and then Tommy gives her the ring box)

But yeah, happy ending! Phil proposes to Kristen on the beach and it's all happy and nice and cool and Tommy, Techno and Wilbur watch and Techno starts crying a little bc he's so happy for his mum.

...

I came up with this last night when I couldn't sleep.

[endeaavorr]

[18.23]

the third vibrate from your phone successfully prodded your eyes to wake. your left arm numb from the way you accidentally slept on it hurriedly reaches out to put your phone on silent, not wanting to wake him up. ah yes, him. you look at the dimmed screen of your phone, 5.00 am 8th of August.

your heart warms at the sight. you lean back to the mattress facing up, trying to stretch your body properly before starting up the day. you turn your head to the left and see his sleeping figure. the slow rise of his chest, the slight part of his lips, and the nasty scar, as shoto calls it, settling happily across the side of his face.

you don’t usually get to see this side of him, either because he doesn’t come home that night from work, or you’re too tired to pay attention, or the two of you passed out right after doing it. so you hit the snooze button once more and studies his face, your right hand now softly leaning on his broad chest, neat fingers tracing the outlines of his never aging face.

but the morning haze soon is replaced by your default mode. pulling enji’s cover to his chin to keep him warm, you get up to start preparing breakfast, you wanted to make it extra special for today.

for the last month the two of you has been, how do you say it, distant. you were taking extra shifts at your agency to afford this watch you wanted to give him on his birthday. even so, since you can’t tell him why he’s starting to come home to a cold empty house, it’s been quiet and rather uncomfortably awkward. you kinda feel bad in a way, so you’re determined to make today work.

you were so drowned in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize enji already woke up and finished his morning run.

“good morning, papa.” you greet him with your usual kind eyes.

“morning,”

he’s fresh out of the shower, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a lounge short, a small towel sitting on his damp hair. he sits on the tatami while you plate breakfast for the two of you. the air is dry and suddenly even the tatami is not that comfortable.

breakfast was quiet, it has always been quiet. but not like this, it’s normally filled with you clinging to his arm and playfully sneak your head under his arms right above his folded feet, facing him with a half closed sleepy smile.

you steal glances at him but he’s always looking down. just when you have the courage to break the silence, he says i enjoyed the food, and puts his dish in the sink.

“i’m staying out tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

you were only able to muster a ‘good luck at work, papa!’ before he’s gone again.

it’s 5pm. you just got home from enji’s agency, dropping of a set of suit you picked up from the launderer. reservation is at 8pm, you have three hours to call him about it and get ready yourself.

“hello,”

“ah papa ! are you busy now ?”

“yeah, i thought i told you this morning.”

it’s a lie, you asked his assistant and his schedule is empty from 5pm above.

“well, not according to your assistant apparently.”

it’s silent.

“well, i just dropped off something for you at the receptionist ! make sure to wear them, dinner’s at ___ at 8pm under my name, i’ll see you there papa ! i love you!”

“wait—“

you leaned to the wall behind you and press your phone to your chest in a relieved sigh. really, you’ve been living together literally your whole life, how are you still nervous like a preteen talking to their first crush ?

you shake your head mentally and start to get ready. in the mean time.. enji is dumbfounded. he’s just confused and the receptionists are grinning knowingly, which makes him even more, confused. good thing his office has a shower and a spare room though.

it’s 7pm. you apply some final touches of light make up. the two light honks from outside signals that your driver is here, ready to take you. the restaurant is pretty close from enji’s office, but it takes a good 25 min walk from the todoroki residence and you don’t wanna ruin your hair.

you get up and look at yourself in the mirror, you’re wearing a black designer dress that exposes your shoulders with a small purse on the right of your hand. you’re ready to go.

8 pm.

“ah, endeavor-san, how can i help you tonight ?”

the hostess welcomes enji with a polite smile.

“i have a reservation under my daughter’s name, todoroki y/n.”

“right this way, sir.”

enji follows the hostess to a more secluded table from the others, he notices it’s way quieter than the main dining hall, the view next to both of the seats are the wide view of city lights. the waiter serving them tonight introduces himself and hands him the menu, while pouring water from a sealed glass bottle to enji’s glass. he looks through some pages but then decided to just wait for you to order.

you arrive no later than five minutes after he did, welcomed by the same hostess, and immediately taken to your table.

“you look good, papa.”

“you too,”

he takes his time to scan over you, your neatly styled hair, your set of greenish ocean eyes that matches his, the scar on your left cheek that you wear proudly, and lastly the way he realizes again just how breathtaking you are.

on the other side, you feel your heart flutter. he looks really good. the slightly opened white shirt, the perfectly tailored navy suit, emphasizing his strong arms that has saved way too many lives, too many times.

enji was too busy staring at you he didn’t even bother taking a look at his menu. and by the time the waiter was ready to take his order, he just went with the classic i’ll have one of what she’s having.

“how’s your day, papa?” you started the conversation.

“it’s normal, busy.”

you place your right hand on top of his, thumb gently rubbing comforting strokes on his palm.

“i missed you, you know.”

“well, you’re the one who’s been away so much.”

you’re honestly a bit startled at his bluntness, he usually won’t do things like this. you get a bit shy and shifts your gaze from his to where your palms are lightly entangled.

“i’m sorry papa, i can’t help it, i needed extra shifts.”

“for what ? is it about money ? you know you can always ask me, right ? i don’t mind providing for you for the rest of my life as long as i get to come home to you, and not just a cold dead hall.”

you’re out of words, his brows is contorted, and the glint in his eyes shows something you guessed to be dissapointment ? guilt ?

“i’m sorry,” you say again, hands shyly squeezing his and the other toying with the ends of your skirt. your heart still goes on a marathon when it comes to him.

the dinner was nice, it’s slow paced and calm, just like how he likes it. the little tense you two had is now slowly melting away. opting to take a walk home instead, you walk hand in hand under the generous light of the moon.

enji took off his suit halfway and put it around you, keeping his right hand in his pocket while his other is entangled with your much smaller one. his shirt has now one more button open, sleeves rolled neatly three times as they rest proper on half of his arm.

you can’t stop smiling, butterflies going crazy in your stomach like a lovesick fool, that you maybe are. you don’t know if it’s from the wine, but he’s way more talkative right now, you’re making jokes here and there, laughing to yourself while gripping his hand tighter and hugging his arms with your other hand. he’s laughing a little too, not that he doesn’t appreciate it, that’s just how he is.

you’re waiting to cross the road at the last junction before you reach your home, the road is clean empty but the light is still red. the both of you don’t mind, he takes this chance to pull you tighter against him and breathe the always comforting natural scent of your hair.

your solace is interrupted by the ding of the crossing light turning green, but enji doesn’t let go, so you start walking slowly like that, pressed against each other, steps getting tangled making it hard to walk. the things you do for love.

it’s 11 pm.

he goes in first while you lock the front door and make sure all the lamps in the yard are on. he sits down and starts to take off his shoe, you quickly slipped of your heels and crouched between his legs to do it for him instead. your short dress riding up, displaying your already exposed milky thighs in its glory.

you can tell where he’s looking and feel the twitch of your insides from the yearning you’ve been holding back. he reaches out his right hand to caress your cheek. you lean to his rough hands and give him a faint smile before you push your body towards his in attempt of pinning him down, disguised by an innocent hug. your head resting on his chest while he supports himself with one arm and holds you back with the other. he face touches the bare skin of your neck and finds comfort there. pressing kisses that quickly turned wet.

you lift up your head and pulled his supporting hand towards you, making sure he’s fully laid on the wooden floor, arms caging his head, hazy eyes looking down on his meaningful orbs. it’s not long before you crash your lips together in a desperate kiss, your spit drooling down his chin, his stubble grazing the smooth well cared surface of your face.

you sit down on his crotch and he abruptly breaks the kiss with a groan, but you’re quick to grab his face and pull him in an even more passionate open mouthed kiss, his hands find the swell of your ass and guide them so you’re now grinding on his growing bulge too.

the mutual need to breathe forces both of you to break the kiss. foreheads now touching together, heavy ragged breath mixing, the intimacy making you dizzy. but the high wears off sooner than you thought and you can’t help but hide your reddened face to his neck, not wanting him to see you blush, hands clutching him tight as he sits back up holding you properly.

“let’s go take a bath, i’m sweaty.”

you can only offer a weak nod, still too embarrassed of what you just did. he hoists you up to his shoulder and carries you to the bathroom.

it’s so warm. you’re sitting between his legs leaning to him, his strong arms on your stomach protectively, body radiating comforting warmth to yours, making the both of you completely relaxed.

you almost let yourself fall asleep if not that you remember about his gift. so you get up first, telling him to enjoy the bath a little longer and go sprint to your room.

you quickly dried your hair and put on a set of babydoll you’ve been keeping for this day. it’s a simple white see through babydoll with soft lace that hangs prettily on your supple thighs. you put on your sleep robe and go to his room with a deep green paperbag on your right hand.

it’s 11.30 pm.

the futon is laid and you’re sitting above it on your knees, your gift hidden behind your figure.

enji comes out of the bathroom already in his sleepwear, a black set of loose shirt and a matching pants. his hands are still busy trying to dry his own hair until he looks up at the sight of you and pauses.

you pat the spot next to you, signaling him to sit there. he walks up to you and sit crossed legged in front of you. he can see the rather big paperbag behind you but decided not to say anything.

“what is it ?”

you opened your mouth in attempt to answer him but was left with nothing, so you just shoved the paperbag and places it in on the little space between the two of you, encouraging him to open it. he’s still not getting it and looks at you with genuinely asking eyes, but you’re too stubborn to meet his eyes and just keep looking at the walls to your right, peach blush already forming again.

“it’s for you,” you brave yourself to look at him in the eyes and finally say it, “happy birthday, papa.”

enji felt like his brain short circuited. but you ushered him to open your gift before he could say anything. you watch as his big hands fully envelop the big green box inside, the one your clumsy hands almost dropped.

he opend the box and stares at it for a while. it’s a platinum rolex day-date 40 from it’s 2021 men collection.

“this is expensive,” was the first respond he let out.

“we-well, that’s why i’d been taking extra shifts,” you sheepishly rub the back of your head. enji’s strong gaze didn’t waver.

“you didn’t have to—“

“but i want to !” you cut him,

“it’s just—“

you grab the pillow behind you and hide your face in it, finding it hard to speak to him eye to eye like this. “i love you, and sometimes i can’t help my feelings, i just thought, this is what people do to their loved ones.. you know,” you explain in a voice growing smaller than before, almost completely muffled by the pillow.

he lets out a sigh before repacking his gift, putting it back inside the paperbag and placing it on his side. you’re getting nervous.. is he mad ? did he not like it ? were you pushing it ?

all your silent doubt dies down as he pulled you close to his chest.

“i love you too, thank you.”

his voice runs beautifully through your ear, the sensation going straight to your heart. you ease up and holds him back.

“um, papa,”

“hn”

“i still have another gift,”

he pulls back and looks at you with a raised brow. you better not have unnecessarily give up you rest just to buy him a ‘gift’, it translates. both your hands come out in front of you in a waving motion to dismiss his half true accusation, but you struggled so much trying to pull out the right words.. you just let out a bashful sigh and unties the knot in front of your outer, before letting the dense fabric hit the floor, revealing the pretty babydoll sitting pretty and proper accentuating your pretty pretty curves.

he stills.

“do-does it look weird..?”

he scans over you for a while but your embarrassment made you thought he was looking at you in a weird way.

your cheeks are heating up, eyes glued to your thighs before you hear a rustle and suddenly your back is against the futon with one arm pinned above your head by his weight, and your other one is in his, you look at you favorite set of eyes that matches yours and the blue sky, he presses your hand to the side of is face and land a deep kiss on the innerside of your wrist, leaning against it while staring back at you.

it was a good birthday.

happy birthday todoroki enji, 8.8.21

[quindolyn]

Please can i request a smut with young sirius black where the reader is very insecure and dosen't think she deserves him. Where he praises her and shows her just how pretty he thinks she is. Could you include daddy kink, praise kink and pet names if you are comfortable with that?

(also thank you for the sympathy Chinese food)

Worthy || Sirius Black

Word Count: 3,654

Notes: Not quite sure how I feel about this, I feel really out of it and have felt like that for a couple of days. I hope you enjoy it though anon, usually I post the request then the piece but doing that makes my blog kind of cluttered and I know I think it’s cleaner when people answer requests like this but I don’t know if I’m going to stick with it.

Warnings: insecure!reader, mad Siri for like 2 seconds, oral (female receiving), praise kink, daddy kink, petnames

Masterlist

“Siri we need to talk.” Yes, be blunt, be straightforward, no beating around the bush. You weren’t going to prolong this any longer than necessary. It was time to set Sirius free, he didn’t need someone like you holding him down, holding him back. And it was time you told him that.

“Yes, poppet?” He quirked an eyebrow, setting his book next to him on the plush couch of the Gryffindor common room. 

“I-I was hoping we could have this conversation in private, in your dorm maybe?” You shifted your weight from foot to foot, your anxiety causing bile to rise in your throat, threatening to make you sick all over Sirius’s shoes.

“Everything okay (Y/N)?” He asked you, his eyes swimming with concern as he ushered you up the stairs to his dorm, a hand resting protectively on the small of your back. 

You didn’t answer him, instead going to sit on his bed once you reached the dorm room, toeing at the fringe of the worn carpet that had probably been there for decades, keeping your eyes on your feet instead of meeting the raven haired boy’s eyes. Leaving them instead to gaze at the top of your head. 

“(Y/N/N)? Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

Breathing in deeply you steeled yourself, straightforward, get this over quickly, “We need to break up Sirius.”

“What?” You winced, he sounded angry and you were sure that had you been able to meet his eyes they could’ve portrayed his anger as well.

“I said that we nee-”

“No, I heard you!” He growled, his hands balling into fists, “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t want to break up with you, don’t I get a say in this?”

“Well I want to, Sirius, and last I checked it took two people to make a relationship work, we can’t make this work if I don’t want to!” You yelled, finally raising your head to meet his visage and your heart broke.

Sirius looked heartbroken, betrayed, horribly sad, and angry. And for a second you regretted telling him that you wanted to break up in the first place.

Because you didn’t want to, you had to, for Sirius.

“That’s bullshit (Y/N)! Who is it?”

“Sirius?” You asked incredulously, what did he mean ‘who’?

“Who have you been cheating on me with? Who the fuck?” In his anger he picked up a book abandoned on your nightside table, throwing it onto the floor.

“W-What?” You stuttered, trying to keep your tears at bay.

Sirius growled, literally baring his teeth like a feral dog, “You heard me, who the fuck are you cheating on me with? Diggory? Snape?”

“I’m not- I didn’t- I-” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm yourself before continuing, “I didn’t cheat on you Sirius, I would never. This is just what’s best for you.”

“How can not being with you be best for me? I don’t wanna not be with you! Why can’t you get that through your head?” He sounded more desperate now than he did angry now, almost as if he could tell that there was something off with you and your motivations behind your hurtful words.

“You are so much better than me Sirius! You’re wonderful, and you’re smart, you excel in our subjects without even trying, you’re charismatic and witty and just plain funny! Not to mention that you’re drop dead fucking gorgeous, and I’m- I’m not. You’re everything Siri, you’re my moon and my sun and my stars, you’re the whole fucking galaxy and you deserve at least that much. And god damn it, Sirius! I’m nothing! You deserve someone half as wonderful as you are, I’m barely a fraction of a percent.” Your voice broke more at the end than you would’ve liked.

You watched as Sirius’ face fell, his bottom lip wobbling as tears flooded his eyes, which once swam with anger were now drowned in guilt and sorrow. “Puppy,” He sniffled, pulling you up into my arms as he buried his face into your neck, “Puppy, I never meant to make you feel like that. You’re everything, my love, you’re wonderful and perfect for me. I love you so much, I’m so sorry I wasn’t good enough at showing you that.” His grip tightened on you with each word until you could feel him constricting your blood flow.

“S’not your fault Siri, you’re just so much better than me. I feel so bad holding you back.”

He pulled away from you, finally allowing you to properly inhale, cupping your face in his strong hands, tilting your head up so he could look directly into your eyes. 

“You, my love, do not hold me back, you propel me forward every day and make me strive to be a better man for you. Please don’t leave me, baby, not because of this, not because you think I deserve better. I don’t even deserve you, especially if I haven’t made you feel as great as you are.”

You were an idiot. This man loved you, maybe almost as much as you loved him. You couldn’t just leave him, but you also couldn’t stay and continue to hold him back. What the fuck were you supposed to do?

“Siri,” A sob tumbled from your lips as you threw yourself at his toned chest, letting your tear stained cheeks rest against the soft material of his shirt, “Siri I- I’m so sorry I love you so much I just- I just…”

“I know love, I know,” Sirius soothed you, petting your hair with one hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against him. “But you are wonderful, you are the light of my life. Let me show you how stunning you are, how beautiful and gorgeous I think your body is. Let me show you how much I love you.”

“Okay,” You responded, knowing that Sirius would require verbal consent before so much as touching you.

He walked you back until your knees hit against the edge of the bed, easing you down onto the mattress, then pushing your back down so that you were lying on your back, staring up at him through your water logged lashes.

“Look at you baby girl,” He cooed, standing in between your legs, looking down at your form, long curtains of ink black hair falling into his face. 

Feeling heat rush to your face you moved your hands to cover it from the intense gaze of your boyfriend. 

“Hey there pup,” HIs large hands reached for your wrists, gently pulling them away from your face, pinning them to the bed on either side of you, “There you are pretty girl, don’t hide from me please, wanna see my pretty girl.”

“Sorry,” You murmured.

“Don’t have to apologize to me darling, just want to see you.” He began unbuttoning his black button down, his nimble fingers worked quickly, pulling the buttons out of their holes. As he shrugged his shirt off of his body, revealing the entirety of his upper body to you, you felt your mouth go dry, how were you supposed to compare to that?

In your panicked haze, you didn’t notice Sirius’ fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt until you felt the warm pads of his fingertips dancing along the supple flesh of your stomach. A small gasp escaped your parted lips accompanied by a small wince.

“You’re so soft baby, so soft in my hands,” Sirius praised, allowing his rough palms to slide to your waist where they squeezed gently, “Can I take this off of you?”

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded your consent, raising your arms above your head so that Sirius could slip the garment off of you, letting it drop to the floor next to his feet. You resisted the urge to fold your arms over your now bare torso as Sirius took his time ogling you, he swallowed repeatedly, sure he’d seen you naked before but your body would never cease to take his breath away. 

“Baby,” He crooned, his eyes flying up to meet yours, “Your tits look so pretty in this bra, pretty color on you too, did you buy it for yourself?” Slowly, giving you time to stop him, one of his hands wandered to your clothed breast, giving it a nice squeeze through the lacy pink fabric. 

“Uh huh, bought it over the summer with Lily and Marlene,” You answered, watching his face as he observed your heaving chest, feeling suddenly very courageous you spoke again, “You um, you can take it off if you’d like.”

This brought Sirius’ attention from your chest up to your visage, “You sure m’love, don’t have to take it off yet if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” You gulped, eyes wide, mouth dry, “I want to.”

“Arch your back then for me pup,” Sirius’ deep baritone commanded to which you promptly obeyed, allowing Sirius’ hands to slip between your back and the mattress as he expertly undid the clasp in what must’ve been record time before slipping the delicate straps off of your shoulders.

Not giving you time to be embarrassed at your progressing state of undress Sirius surged forward, slotting your lips with his, drinking from you like you were a canteen of water and he had just hiked through the Sahara. He braced himself on his forearms which rested on either side of your head, letting his tongue trace trace the seal of your lips once, twice, three times, he then plunged deep into the velvet of your warm mouth. He was gentle as he mingled his tongue with yours, brushing against yours with his. 

You let out a small moan into the kiss which had Sirius’ eyes rolling back in his head, “I wanna show you how much I love you (Y/N),” Sirius murmured into your neck as he pulled away from your lips, instead leaving small kisses down the column of your throat, “We can stop if you want to, but if not I need to show you how special you are. Can I show you?”

You managed a small “Yes Daddy,” as you felt him grin into skin.

He looked up at you, eyes twinkling, “Such a good girl for me pup.”

Much to your vexation Sirius pushed himself off of you but you were settled slightly when you saw him start on the button of his pants before doing the zipper and pulling them down his legs leaving him only in his boxers. 

He resumed his position on top of you, gently taking your hand from where it lay on the bed to place it over the soft material of his worn boxers, “You feel that Puppy? You feel how hard my cock is?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“You did that to me!” He beamed down at you, his hair only slightly obstructing his view of you, “That’s how much I love you, how fucking hot you are, got me so hard so quickly, no time at all baby girl and Daddy’s already desperate for you.”

You were unable to prevent the rush of heat to your face at his comment, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell just how flustered he could make you.

With your agreement Sirius finally pulled down your leggings and panties in one fluid motion, gently pulling them off of your feet before he rid himself of his boxers.

“Fuck, love,” He swore before kneeling before you and pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle, “So sexy all splayed out for me on your bed, these legs,” His hands ran up and down your calves before venturing up past your knees to your thighs where they gripped the flesh, not hard enough to bruise but just enough to convey his emotion through his loving touch. 

At his repeated praise you felt your wetness beginning to gather in your pussy, a small knot beginning in the pit of your stomach as he traced his lips up your calves, just barely grazing your flesh tickling your skin.

Once he got to your thighs his small kisses became open mouthed, and wet, leaving trails of saliva in his wake as he started leaving dark bruises on your legs. “I love your legs darling, the way they look in your uniform skirt, your leggings, jeans. Love them so much.” He left a soft kiss on the top of your thigh, taking note of the shiver that ran through your body.

Pushing your thighs apart he inched you closer to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders allowing him to face your pussy head on. “Gonna make you feel so good baby, you deserve to feel good.”

He moved his arms to pin your hips to the bed, giving him more control in what he was about to do. He parted your folds with his nose, allowing him to inhale your scent.

“You smell heavenly Puppy, one of my favorite things about you, your pussy smells like heaven, and fuck does it taste good.”

As if to prove his point he leaned forward, licking a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, letting out a moan at your taste. The vibrations from his moan sent shockwaves through your clit, feeding the knot growing in your stomach you clenched your thighs around his head.

He took it as a sign of encouragement and began sucking on your clit, pulling the sensitive nub between his lips he released hums reveling in the way they made your thighs clench around his head.

You clasped one hand over your mouth in attempts to muffle your moans from spilling out into the dorm room. And though it did do a fine enough job at it, not good enough for Sirius not to hear an especially loud whine when he nipped lightly at your clit.

“Puppy?” He raised his head from between your legs, cocking his head to the side like the puppy that had become synonymous with your name, “Wanna hear you please, want to hear the pretty little noises you make when I eat your cunt.” 

As he spoke he inserted a single finger into your quivering hole, wanting to stretch you out for his cock which was aching and desperate to be buried deep inside of you. With his other hand, he reached for the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, pulling it away from your face to lay on the mattress where he interlaced your fingers with his, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

Hoping you would follow his instruction and let him hear you he ducked down to return his mouth to your clit, sucking on the nub again without stopping his finger which was still making its way in and out of your hole. Not satisfied that he was making you feel good enough he inserted a second finger into your cunt, stretching you out even more.

Sirius smiled into your pussy when he heard you moan, “Fuck Siri!” 

“Come on Puppy,” He pressed a kiss to your hip bone, “That’s not my name, you know it, tell me what my name is good girl.”

“Daddy,” You gasped, thrusting your hips further onto his fingers which still continued their agonizingly slow pace, “Daddy, feels so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” Sirius pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, letting his cheek rest against the soft flesh as he looked up at your writhing, perspiring form, “Gonna stretch you out on one more finger then you should be ready for my cock Pup, one more then I get to be inside of this beautiful cunt.” His gaze drifted to your pussy, which was beautifully swollen for him.

“Please Daddy,” The whimper left your lips with you barely noticing, “Please want your cock.”

“Want to give it to you my love, just gotta get you ready.”

Suddenly feeling the need to be inside of you now, no doubt caused by your begging, he added another finger inside of your cunt, trying not to pay too much mind to the way you clenched around him, afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to think straight.

How could someone’s fingers feel so good? The knot in your stomach continued to get tighter and tighter but you still craved more, you needed him inside of you. 

Simultaneously you breathed both a sigh of relief and released a bereft whimper as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, making a show of bringing them to his mouth where he licked them clean, closing his eyes in pleasure as your taste bled across his tongue. 

“You taste so good Puppy, like candy,” Seeing that you obviously didn’t believe him he leaned down so his body was pressed to your and gently eased your mouth open before collecting spit in his mouth and spitting it into your’s. “See? See how good you taste? My favorite taste in the whole wide world. Swallow for me Puppy,” He grinned as you obeyed, “Good girl,” He praised with a kiss to your forehead.

“Now can you scooch up on the bed for me?” Once you were carefully rested further up on the bed, your head lying on a pillow, Sirius climbed on top of you, lining the weeping head of his prick up with your opening. 

You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips as he fully sheathed himself inside of your heart, the head of his cock prodding at your g spot thanks to the slight curve of the member.

Sirius smiled down at your face which was contorted in pleasure as he guided one of your hands to the base of your stomach, “You feel that? That’s me, that’s how good you take my cock love, I can feel it in your tummy.”

“I can feel it Daddy,” You answered feebly, Sirius’ grey eyes shimmered with adoration and pride as he looked down at your stomach before coming back to meet yours.

“You have the prettiest eyes darling,” He cooed, leaning down to kiss the outer corners of your eyes. He began thrusting in and out of you, his strokes, slow and deep as he took his time pulling out and then pushing back in. 

“So wet for me, slid right in because you were so ready for me baby, and now you’re squeezing me so good.” The praises fell from his lips one after another, wanting to broadcast to you his every thought about how perfect and wonderful you were, hoping that maybe something would be able to get through to you.

The feeling of Sirius inside of you was absolutely heavenly, it was a full feeling unlike any other. His width was just enough to stretch you but not enough to cause too much pain, you wrapped your hands around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he continued moving inside of you. 

“I love you so much, I love you (Y/N), you are my everything darling,” He slowed down his strokes, taking his time with each, “I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you that, but I love you more than I could ever properly tell you. Love you so much that you’re going to make me cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.”

The both of you giggled at that, knowing that Sirius was usually able to go for multiple rounds, and the slight clenching around his prick as a result of your laughter did nothing to help matters. 

“Could you go a little faster Daddy, please?” You asked timidly, needing more stimulation as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten both at the feeling of Sirius nestled deep inside of you and the flattery he kept serving you. 

“Such good manners Puppy,” He took the note quickly, speeding up his thrusts just enough, “Such a pretty girl taking my cock, your pretty hair all splayed out around you, like a halo. Makes you look like the angel you are.”

For some reason his comment had tears ebbing at your eyes, you barely noticed as a few escaped and rolled down your cheeks.

“Puppy, does it hurt? Why are you crying?” Worry was etched across his features as he gazed down at you, ceasing his thrusts.

“I don’t deserve you,” You blubbered, willing the tears to stop, “You’re just too good for me.”

Sirius leaned down, resuming the movement of his hips, kissing the tears off of your skin, “No I’m not, you deserve me Puppy, you deserve me. And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.” 

You used your arms to pull his chest against yours as he sped up his thrusts, trying to convince you that you deserved this, “I-I’m going to cum Daddy, gonna cum. Can I cum Daddy?”

“Of course Puppy, cum for me, be a good girl and make a mess all over my cock. Be my little messy bunny, gonna cum with you.”

He rocked his hips against yours three more times before he exploded inside of you, rope after rope of cum coating the inside of your walls as you released around him. Making a mess just as he’d told you to, feeling the knot in your stomach unravel, perhaps not as intensely as usual but so much better.

Your whimpers of “Daddy” quieted as your pleasure overwhelmed you, drowning you in your orgasm as you continued to clench around Sirius’ cock, hips still bucking to meet his.

In his release Sirius repeated “I love you”, over and over again, chanting it like it was a prayer, like a promise.

“I love you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your cupid's bow as you unclenched your eyes, “And I’m going to spend the rest of my love showing you just how much.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete

[yoichichi]

Laundry Day

Modern!Armin x fem!reader

18+ MINORS DNI

warning(s): oral(f) receiving, masturbation(m), swearing

a/n: ok so this is like my first full blown smut piece on here 😳 and I wasn’t expecting it to be about Armin either wbshdhehkws but I was talking with @armins-futon about him andddd here we are so I hope y’all enjoy 🤪 ALSO CONGRATS ON 400 BB THIS IS OFFICIALLY A GIFT POST FOR YOU AND YOUR MILESTONE‼️‼️

gif not mine, credit to owner

Armin grunted ahead of you as he walked into the laundry room, huffing as he set the laundry basket down.

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure I don’t need help doing laundry sweetie.” He looked at you over his shoulder where you stood quietly peeking in the doorway.

You rolled your eyes and sauntered over to hop onto the dryer where you swung your hanging feet, your heels hammering into the cold metal.

“How the hell did you hear me? I wanted to scare you.” You sighed and crossed your arms, leaning back to rest your head against the cupboard behind you.

It was a little game you guys played, and buy you guys I mean only you. You loved getting Armin startled. Well you think you would if you were ever actually successful in doing so. You’d hide behind doorways, under beds, in the closet, even in the garage after he’s come home from work but nothing ever worked. And it was starting to really bum you out.

“Don’t pout because it didn’t work, maybe you’ll get me next time.” He always said this, too.

You scoffed and turned your head to watch him. His toned arms were digging deep into the basket to pull out the last of the laundry, and the small of his back was showing from the way he was bent over to properly reach the clothes. He pulled his arms out but instead of grabbing laundry he grabbed your shins, looking up at you from his position. He was holding your legs flush against the dryer, preventing you from swinging your feet to bang loudly on it.

“Stop.” His tone of voice made you squirm.

You nod your head and give him a little smile, slightly embarrassed at how easy it is for him to affect you like that.

He stands up and stretches his arms after putting the last of the laundry in, his stomach peeking out from the bottom of his shirt, and he starts to move in front of you. You swear he does shit like that on purpose sometimes.

Standing in front of you now, he pushes your legs apart by the plush of your inner thighs and slowly moves his hands to the outer bits of them, taking his time to really feel how soft your skin is, before he roughly yanks you forward and closer to him. The metal pulls at your skin in the process and stings a little, but now your face to face with him and the discomfort is long forgotten.

“‘Scuse me sweetie, don’t want you to hit your head.” He drags his left hand up your side to cup and move your head into his chest, and with your face buried there you can still smell his body wash from his shower that morning. And when he closes the cupboard he pulls your head back by your hair, only slightly tugging on it, to kiss your nose and go back to doing laundry.

Now that he definitely did on purpose.

After pouring in the detergent he grabbed, he opted for setting it on the dryer instead of putting it back, picking you up off of it and grabbing onto your hand to pull you into a hug. This was only so he could get better access to whisper into your ear, “c’mon, let’s watch something while we wait for them to be done.”

His voice was soft and low, sending chills down your spine as you simply nodded.

You both plopped onto the couch to find something mindless to put on for the next half hour. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you into his chest after he pressed play, his fingers drawing mindless figures onto your skin.

You guys sat like this for most of the time when you were suddenly struck with an idea, noticing how he was starting to doze off.

“I’ll be right back, I gotta go pee.” You peeled his arms off you when he hummed in response, quietly padding off to the bathroom. Of course you didn’t really have to use the bathroom, you were gonna scare him.

You waited a few minutes in the hallway with your hand over your mouth, doing your best to stifle your giggles. If he wasn’t practically asleep when you left you were sure he’d have heard you by now, maybe that’s why it never worked.

You waited a minute more before crouching down and crawling into the living room. You were moving as slowly and silently as humanly possible until you reached the end of the couch.

You shot up and shouted, thinking you’d really done it this time, except he was no longer peacefully sleeping on the couch like you’d left him.

You thought maybe you waited too long and the timer went off before you could scare him. But before you could turn around to try to find him you felt strong arms lift you up from behind paired with a shout.

You felt your heart jump and let out a little holler even though you knew the culprit was obviously Armin.

You groaned and smacked his arms while he carried you to the couch.

“Ugh! No fair Armin! I never get to scare you and now you scare me?!”

He set you down on the couch on your back and hovered above you, still chuckling to himself as he reached down to cup your cheek.

“Aww I’m sorry baby, but I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend if I let you win.” He was smiling sweetly but his tone was nowhere sweet, it was condescending and mischievous.

“Yeah whatever.” You smacked his upper arms but let your hands linger there, squeezing the muscle lightly that was tense from the way he was holding himself up.

You let your eyes wander down his arms and to his chest before you looked back up to his face. You could feel your cheeks immediately start to get warm when you realize how obviously you had just gawked at him.

“Yeah?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he said that.

You groaned and hit his chest this time, refusing to look at him.

You could feel him lean down closer to you, his body heat making you even warmer.

“Here, let me make it up to you for scaring you so bad, yeah?” His throat sounded dry when he whispered that, swallowing after he spoke and kissing your cheek lightly.

He wanted you as bad as you wanted him.

His soft lips began leaving what started out as sweet kisses down the side of your neck and on the bits of your chest that were exposed, but now they were wet and needy with bites littering your collar bones.

“Armin, please.” Your voice was breathy and strained.

You were desperately pawing at his shoulders as he moved his hands to your shorts. You lifted your hips as he pulled them down along with your underwear.

“I know pretty girl, sit up for me.” He sat up on the couch and brought you with him, awkwardly adjusting the two of you until your back was resting against the cushions with your thighs resting on his shoulders.

He was on the ground in front of you, kneading the tops of your thighs as he bit along the inside of them, making you jump slightly and quickly grab handfuls of his hair.

You bucked your hips towards him when he left a pathetic kiss to your lips, his warm breath teasing you.

This was his favorite way to have you, legs spread and exposed for him. You whining and doing your best to convince to just touch you with your body squirming.

He moved his arm to bring two of his long fingers to your pussy, spreading your lips to see you desperately clench around nothing.

“Armin!” You pulled on his hair again and he was brought back down, looking up at your face and smiling sweetly.

“Sorry baby, I forgot this was about you.” He chuckled and kept staring at you while he shoved his middle finger in you at an agonizingly slow pace.

You tried to move your hips out of instinct but Armin’s other hand was keeping you in place now.

“I know baby, I’ll give you more. I’m just making sure you’re ready first.”

That was always his excuse when he was teasing you like this.

But before you could complain he had 2 fingers inside you and was curling them up at just the right spot.

You let out an erotic moan and tried to pull his face closer to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah? You want my mouth, too?”

You feverishly nodded and looked down to see his eyes dark with his pupils blown and flushed cheeks. God could he just start already.

He pulled his fingers out of you and moved his hands to spread your thighs even farther, the burn worth it when you finally felt his mouth on you.

He buried his face into you and wasted no time in running his tongue along your inner folds, humming to himself when he first got a taste of what he’d been needing.

He brought his hand up to spread your folds and shake his head slightly, making his tongue work hard against your clit. That wasn’t enough for him though.

He moved his hand so his thumb could rub your clit as his tongue fucked your hole, needing to taste more of you. The closer you got the harder you pulled on his hair, only making him groan in response.

He brought his other hand to his cock, shoving his hand down his sweatpants to give himself even a small sense of relief, his head swollen and dripping with pre-cum at how bad he needed you.

“Fuck baby, do you know what you do to me?” He pulled away breathless, his mouth and chin glistening and his eyes glossy, you could see his chest heaving from where you were and slight movements from his left arm let you know exactly what you do to him.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond when he dove back in, latching onto your clit this time and sucking harshly, effectively pushing you over the edge.

“Oh, god, f-fuck!” You whined and groaned, rolling your hips against him as you rode out your orgasm, Armin not letting up once til you lightly pushed on his head.

“Baby, please, I’m done.” You panted and closed your eyes, relaxing into the couch cushions behind you.

He sat up and you caught a glimpse of the wet spot and tent forming in his sweatpants before he pulled them down to let his cock spring free,

“Oh? You’re just gonna leave me like this?” He was breathless too, and even though he sounded cocky you knew how desperate he was for your touch.

You looked up at him with hazy eyes and a lazy smile, sitting up slightly as you reached out.

“Well, I gu-“

You were rudely interrupted by the timer on your phone signaling it was time to move the clothes from the wash.

Armin jumped, startled, and turned the phone off.

“Fucking- stupid- ugh.”

He tossed the phone angrily onto the other side of the couch and huffed at your amusement from his scare.

You giggled one last time and wrapped your hand around his cock, biting your lip at the sight of him groaning and, this time, grabbing your hair, watching you intently.

You smiled up at him sweetly, “don’t worry, the clothes can wait a few more minutes.”

——————

PLS TELL ME ALL YOUR THOUGHTS POSTING THIS IS SCARY AND IM DESPERATE FOR VALIDATION

I hope you guys liked it 😭😭😭

-🐇out

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating pt. 2

part 1 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: hurt/comfort, brief mention of fighting, panic attack, angst to fluff

Wc: 2.6k

NOT PROOFREAD!

The morning after you broke up with Suna, you wake up with a sour taste in your mouth, hugging a pillow. Momentarily disoriented, you look around your room until you spot your phone, and it all comes crashing down.

Oh no. Your chest tightens when you see 41 missed calls from Suna and 118 unread text messages over the course of the night. You'd fallen asleep with your phone set to silent, crying into your pillow at the immense betrayal.

Slowly, you unlock your phone to see increasingly frantic messages from Suna, begging you to forgive him and take him back. Ten new voicemails. You shouldn't press it, shouldn't listen to his voice. But you do.

"Y/N," immediately, your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He sounds so desperate, so frantic, tears clinging to the words. "I'm so, so, sorry. You have every right to be mad at me, every right to hate me. I hate myself too, and I'll never forgive myself for doing that. I-I just wanted you to know that I-" the recording becomes quieter, only the faint sniffles picked up on it. "I love you."

It ends there, and you freeze. He'd never told you he loved you before, skipping over it whenever you jokingly mentioned the future. You knew he was scared of commitment, but it still hurt whenever he ignored it. A particular memory from two weeks ago floods your mind, no matter how hard you try to push it away.

You were lying on Suna's bed, resting your head against his chest as he scrolled through the videos he wanted to upload to Worldstar. His arm was slung around you, his lips pulled up in a smirk, his green eyes flicking from the phone to you and back again. It was comfortable, a lazy Sunday with the sun just beginning to set behind his curtains. You nestled further into his chest, his heartbeat regular and reassuring. You let your eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth of his affection.

Almost too soft for him to hear, half hoping he wasn't listening, you whisper "I love you." He stiffens, and you know you messed up. His heart skips a beat, and he pretends like he didn't hear you. You swallow, embarrassed that he didn't say it back, but neither of you moves until Suna gets up, saying he has to use the restroom. He doesn't come back for a while, and when he does, he mutters something about it getting late (it was barely 6 pm) and how he'd forgotten that he had to do something today. Taking the cue, you took your stuff and left, silently cursing yourself for saying it before he was ready. Things had been awkward the next few days, with him responding less and less frequently and seeming more distant and cold.

Come to think of it, it was right before he started acting strange.

oh.

Pressing a shaking hand to your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut. Was that why?

Before you could sink deeper into your thoughts, you heard a knock at the door of your bedroom. The door opens to reveal Atsumu, standing awkwardly in your door frame. Yelping, you bring the bedcovers up to cover yourself, forgetting that you’re still wearing your clothes from last night. “How did you get in here?!”

He blushes, eyes flickering around your room and refusing to land on you. “Yer mom told me where the spare key was.”

You sighed, and he came over and sat on your bed, looking at his feet placed on the floor. “Ya okay?” he asked, voice low. That wasn’t what you’d expected. It was rare for Atsumu to be serious, rare for his brow to be furrowed so severely.

“Well, that’s debatable,” you said, scoffing a little. He nodded, eyes still fixed on the floor.

“I saw Suna last night,” he blurted out.

“You did?” Your eyebrows lift, surprised at his uncharacteristic behavior.

“I punched him,” he admits, lifting his head. “I was just too angry at him for hurting ya.”

Then it was your turn to look at the floor, not responding to this statement. What were you supposed to say, anyway? You sit in awkward silence, waiting for Atsumu to gather his thoughts and speak again.

“He’s in love with ya, ya know,” he says quietly. “That’s why it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why would he cheat on me if he loves me?” you ask, lip quivering slightly. You noticed the tense of the word; is. Not was. He sighs in frustration, shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know.” Seemingly debating on whether to say something, he decided to anyways, “He just let me hit him.”

“What?”

“He just stood there when I punched him, didn’t even punch back or anything. He just looked so sad, ya know?”

“Sad?” you scoff. “He was the one who decided to do it.” He nodded, knowing you’re right.

“I don’t really know why I came here,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Aren’t ya missing class right now?”

“I’m not going today,” you mutter. He understood. Silently, he got up and left the room, and you heard the door shut short afterward, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It wasn’t raining anymore, but the clouds still clung dark and heavy, low to the mountains and shrouding the distant buildings. Puddles shone on the ground, the leaves outside your window glistening with raindrops.

It hurt. It hurt so badly, the confusion and anger and sadness all combined. The truth was, you still loved Suna, and apparently, he loved you. Falling back onto your pillow, you felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. Your eyes were dry, the pain finally internalized. The good memories of your time with Suna came then, flooding your mind and squeezing your heart.

The first time you two kissed, in a parking lot of a 7/11  at two in the morning. His lips tasted like soda, the sweet fizz almost intoxicating. It was a quick kiss, feeling him smile against your lips and seeing the smirk on his face when he pulled away.

Watching the stars together from the roof of a building on a moonless night, offering you his jacket when he noticed you were cold. You fell asleep in his arms that night, the cool winter air brushing your cheeks and inciting him to hold you just a little bit closer.

The playful insults exchanged, the banter slowly turning into backhanded compliments, and then sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

The warm, enveloping hugs, although somewhat rare- he would hold you, one arm on the small of your back and the other caressing the back of your neck.

The skeptical look on his face when you took him to the grocery store, fully intending to make a new dish you’d seen on TV with him. Not noticing the softness in his eyes as he watched you, your excitement contagious in his smile.

The teasing he endured because of you. The day you walked into the gym, bringing him a homemade bento, the boys had teased him relentlessly. He didn’t mind, because it made you happy.

All of that was gone now, and the miserable aching in your heart was a constant reminder of it. You let sleep take you away again, the pain in your expression being smoothed away by the gentle lull. When Suna slipped into your room using the same key Atsumu had failed to properly hide, he saw you curled up, hugging a pillow in your sleep, a small crease marking your forehead. He always said you looked angelic in your sleep.

“Suna…” you murmured, shifting slightly, and his eyes grew sad at how you grimaced slightly at his name.

He made his way to your desk chair, sitting down silently and grabbing a piece of paper from the desk along with a pencil, beginning to write.

When you awoke to the sound of a pencil scratching paper, it took you a second to register that there was someone else in your room. You screamed, clutching your pillow until you recognized Suna.

His eyes found yours, and the guilt and shame in them were almost overwhelming. You looked away, clenching your jaw. The pencil fell from his hand, seeming to fall in slow motion until it hit and bounced off of the floor, clattering once, twice, and then three times before rolling away from his foot.

“Get out,” you whisper.

“Can we just talk about this-” he rushes, standing up and impulsively moving closer to you.

“I said get out!” You yell, flinching away from his touch as if it’s some sort of deadly disease. His face falls, and he withdraws his hand, swallowing hard. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. It’s not a mistake. It’s a choice, and you chose to break my heart!” You look at him, anger and pain mixing in your eyes, and he finally gets it. You’re not coming back. He ruined it with an impulse decision, a reckless choice in the face of his fear of commitment and the overwhelming feelings that he didn’t know how to deal with.

The day you told him you loved him, he froze only because he didn’t know what to do. He’d gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and sunk down the door, back straight and head tilted towards his knees. This had never happened to him before- every time he’d been with a girl, he’d never felt like this. Was it love? He already knew he messed up by not saying it back, but his emotions were confusing, distracting, almost frightening. He’s taken his mind off of it by falling into a stranger’s arms that night, reassuring himself that he was still the same old Suna, the one who didn’t need anyone.

God, how he hated himself for that. Tears welled up in his eyes against his will, and he stared down at the floor.

“Why are you still here?” You spoke, back turned to him, “I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.” Your words stung, you knew they did, but you didn’t really care. The paper in his hand fluttered to the floor, almost inaudibly brushing across the wood. His bottom lip quivered, and the tear that clung to his eyelash slipped silently down his face, making his green eyes appear even brighter than normal.

Thunder crashed outside your window, and Suna froze, his sharp intake of breath making you turn. He looked petrified- his entire body seemed to be shrinking into itself, his hands trembling and clenched, his eyes wide with unmistakable fear in them.

“Suna?” You got up from your place on the bed, curious as to what was happening, then remembered. Suna had a crippling fear of thunderstorms. “Suna. Suna, hey, look at me.” You waved a hand in front of his face, but he just started shaking harder, his breathing getting faster. Gripping him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him towards your bed and helped him sit down, your brow furrowing. “Can I touch you?” you asked gently, receiving the smallest of nods in return. You sat beside him and started rubbing his back, gently holding him closer to you. Thunder triggering a panic attack had only happened twice before, but you were familiar with how to help him through it. “I’m going to go close the curtains now.” Almost methodically talking him through your movements in an attempt to distract him from the thunder growing louder outside, you went to close the curtains and turned on your bedside lamp. “Tell me how I can help.”

He struggled to speak, his breath turning into short hyperventilations until you sat down next to him and started breathing loudly and evenly, hoping he would hear you and try to match his breathing. To your surprise, he turned to you and hugged you, burying his face in your chest and huddling close to your body. Stiff at first, you slowly wrapped your arms around him and rocked back and forth, whispering into his ear that it was almost over and he would get through it. You could feel his back shuddering, trying to maintain control of his breathing and failing. Out of instinct, you rested your cheek on his shoulder, staring at the picture of you two that still rested on your nightstand, and you felt his breathing gradually slow. Soon, he stopped shaking, but he still clung to you as if you were his life raft in a tumultuous storm.

It wasn’t until you felt wetness on your shirt that you pulled back, concerned, only to see tears dripping down Suna’s face. He instantly missed your warmth, your smell, the feeling of you holding him, but he knew it would be selfish of him to try to pull you back in.

You didn’t speak, eyes flickering from him down to the blanket underneath you. Your anger was gone now, and as hard as you tried to hate him, looking at the vulnerability displayed on his face melted the resolve you had.

“You look terrible,” you say, eyes wandering over his disheveled hair and puffy eyes.

“I didn’t sleep last night,” he responds, and you instantly feel awkward.

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble, unsure of what to say. He just shrugs, gazing downwards.

“About what I said in the voicemail.” At these words, you freeze. “I meant it, and I’m so sorry for not saying it earlier.”

You turn away from him, eyes burning, as you feel a lump in your throat. “If you love me, why did you do it?”

His words die in his throat because that’s what he’s been wondering this whole time. If he loved you, why did he do it? “I-I did it because I was scared.”

“Scared?” you spit, pain lacing your words, “Scared? Do you know how terrified I was to tell you? I know that you’re scared of commitment, I know that it’s hard for you to express your feelings, but do you have any idea how many hours I spent wondering if you even liked me anymore? If you even cared at all?” Hot tears spill down your face, your lips quivering as you tip your head back and stare at the ceiling. Quieter, you say, “Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep because of you? No, you don’t. But I still believed in us, I really thought it could work, and you threw it all away because you were scared?”

You shook your head, and he stared at you, hating that he made you feel like this. “I had no idea,” he rasps, voice husky from the breath caught in his throat. “When you told me you loved me, I realized I loved you too. I’d never felt like that before, and I was scared of my own feelings, so I wanted-” He stopped, unsure of how to continue. “I needed to distract myself.”

Each word stings, a knife stabbing into your back, as the tears fall harder and faster. You look up at him and see there are tears streaming down his face too, the shame too much for him to bear.

“I would do anything for you to come back.” His voice breaks, becoming breathier as his shoulders begin to shake again. “Please.”

In one swift movement, you pulled him close to you, and it was your turn to huddle into his chest as you sobbed. Just for a second, just for a moment, just to feel his touch again, but he wrapped his arms around you tightly and didn’t let you go. Clinging to each other, you shared the pain.

“If we can move past this,” you mumbled, face pressed against his shirt, breathing in his scent, “you can’t ever do something like that again.”

“No, no, of course not,” he assured you, voice thick with emotion, “I promise I’ll be so much better. I’ll try to give you everything you deserve.” 

He pulls away and looks at you, drinking in your face, before pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to your lips. When you reciprocate, he kisses you harder, with more passion, holding you as if he can’t let you go. “Thank you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel the pain and anger and worry seep out of him.

It was going to be okay. a/n: i’m not really sure about this one, but i hope you guys enjoyed! sorry for the major angst, lmao also tiny reminder my requests are open even tho i kinda suck at them

[kurowrites]

Betting On You - Part II

Hhhhh, this has been frustrating me ever since I wrote part I. Idk, idk.

Previous part

---

Wei Ying and A-Yuan spent a long time in the bathtub, making sure they were all warmed up and clean before they finally stepped out. (Well, were lifted out in the case of A-Yuan.)

Wei Ying picked out the fluffiest towel they owned and wrapped A-Yuan in it, scrubbing him dry.

When he removed the towel, A-Yuan’s hair was sticking up in all directions.

“Look at this little radish!” Wei Ying laughed as he tousled A-Yuan’s hair. “He even has little leaves!”

A-Yuan protested and removed Wei Ying’s hand, but a moment later, he wrapped around Wei Ying’s leg in an attempt to get Wei Ying to dress him.

Technically, A-Yuan was old enough to put on at least the simpler pieces of his clothing on his own, but he hadn’t been feeling well today. Wei Ying, though exhausted himself, didn’t feel it was the right moment to insist on A-Yuan doing it himself, and helped the little radish out. He got out the nice red pyjamas that Wen Qing got him for his last birthday, and wrestled A-Yuan into it.

He had just slipped into a pair of sweatpants himself when the doorbell rang. In a hurry, he grabbed his shirt and clumsily pulled it over his head as he ran to the door of the apartment.

As he should have expected, their wet, soggy laundry and shoes still lay abandoned in front of the door. Wei Ying hastily pushed them to the side as best as he could, so that he could open the door and hide the mountain of dirty clothing behind it, keeping it out of view.

When he opened the door, Lan Zhan stood in the door frame, as stoic, handsome, and well put together as ever. Wei Ying had the nonsensical impulse to check his own appearance to make sure he was decent, but that was a lost case by now. He had barely managed to slip into a shirt, his long hair not brushed out yet.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, a little more breathlessly than he’d intended to.

“Hn,” Lan Zhan replied, and held up a large pot that Wei Ying only noticed when Lan Zhan brought it to his attention. “Soup.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widened. Had Lan Zhan actually made soup for them?

That was… far nicer than anything Wei Ying had expected. He’d maybe expected Lan Zhan to bring over some instant soup or something. But on second thought, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to be the type to eat instant soup. Ever.

“Oh!” Wei Ying cried out, suddenly remembering that he’d been taught manners at some point in his life, instead of just staring dumbly at the pot. Quickly, he waved Lan Zhan into the apartment. “Come in, come in! Please, feel free to join us! It’s very messy right now, but you know how it is. I always need to make sure we’re on time in the morning, so I only really get to clean up at night. Oh, the kitchen is over here, I think the layout is different from your apartment, no? Yours is bigger.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan slowly agreed, after taking off his shoes, careful to evade the sea of water escaping from the bundle of wet clothes behind the door, and stepping into the apartment proper. “I converted one of the rooms into a music room.”

“Right, music teacher,” Wei Ying smiled. “A-Yuan enjoys your music, occasionally. Though we don’t always hear it.”

“The room is soundproofed,” Lan Zhan replied. “I sometimes play with the window open. I apologise.”

“Don’t apologise!” Wei Ying cried as he provided Lan Zhan with a space on his stove to put the pot of soup down. “We enjoy it. Definitely better than the stuff that usually plays on the radio. Or the shit people try to market as ‘appropriate for children.’”

Lan Zhan only hummed in reply, but Wei Ying was almost sure that he looked pleased.

Heh. Even Lan Zhan wasn’t above a little self-satisfaction now and then, apparently.

“Little radish!” he called out. “Come here, Lan Zhan brought us some soup! It’s dinner time!”

A moment later, A-Yuan toddled into the kitchen and firmly attached himself to Wei Ying’s leg. But despite his apparent shyness about the ‘stranger’ standing in his kitchen, he stared up at Lan Zhan with big, curious eyes.

“Say ‘thank you for the meal,’” Wei Ying encouraged him. He might not be the best father out there, but no one could accuse him of not teaching his son some manners. Those that actually made sense, that was.

“Thank you for the meal,” A-Yuan recited obediently, though he remained firmly attached to Wei Ying’s leg and kept looking up at Lan Zhan with what Wei Ying started to suspect was awe.

It was kind of cute, honestly, because A-Yuan didn’t have too many adults in his life, apart from Wei Ying, the staff at the nursery, and rare visits with Wen Qing. It was good to have positive role models in his life, and Lan Zhan was probably as good as they came. It was also a little troubling to Wei Ying, because A-Yuan’s open admiration made Wei Ying feel like he was somehow lacking as a father. It was a ridiculous notion, because he would not want to be like Lan Zhan, but the feeling was there, still. He knew he couldn’t be everything for A-Yuan. But his emotions were not that easily subdued by reason. He knew he wasn’t the ideal choice for an adoptive parent, anyway, and that he would never be a replacement for A-Yuan’s birth parents.

“It is of no consequence,” Lan Zhan replied seriously, startling Wei Ying out of his morose thoughts. “I offered.”

Wei Ying smiled.

“It means a lot to me,” he emphasised, and waddled over to the kitchen cabinets, A-Yuan still attached to his leg. He reached for the soup bowls and started to unload everything onto their dining table.

“Want to eat with us?” he asked Lan Zhan, waving one of the bowls under his nose.

He’d honestly expected Lan Zhan to politely excuse himself and leave at the first opportunity, but to Wei Ying’s surprise, Lan Zhan simply nodded, helped with setting the table, and then sat down to join them during their meal.

And that was how Wei Ying and A-Yuan ended up eating dinner together with Lan Zhan.

It was almost surreal, to have Lan Zhan in this familiar, currently rather messy environment. But it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. On the contrary, Lan Zhan was a strangely nice and surprisingly interesting dinner guest, and Wei Ying suspected that it was due to his presence that A-Yuan was on his best behaviour. Wei Ying didn’t need to remind him even once not to play with his food! If only that happened during all of their meals.  

To be honest, it was not that easy to get Lan Zhan to speak in the beginning, and convince him to tell them stories about his work as a music teacher. But he made his silence up with being an excellent listener, sometimes listening to A-Yuan’s occasionally nonsensical stories with more earnestness than even Wei Ying was able to fake. And Wei Ying had a lot of practice in faking it.

Wei Ying mostly felt grateful for Lan Zhan’s efforts, because it meant that he was off the hook, for once. He could just sit there, eat his soup, grin at Lan Zhan when A-Yuan said something particularly nonsensical, and not worry about the rest.

And when Lan Zhan finally decided to tell them a few stories of his own, both he and A-Yuan listened to him with genuine interest and no small bit of fascination. For such a taciturn man, he was a surprisingly good storyteller. A certain sense of wit shone through his every word that Wei Ying enjoyed greatly, and that had him laughing out loud more than just once.

All too soon, they were finished with their meal, and it was time for A-Yuan to go to bed. A-Yuan had already started to lag at the dinner table, and so brushing his teeth and putting him to bed was a fairly short and painless process that evening, despite the excitement that an unknown guest had brought.

Lan Zhan, on the other hand, had insisted on helping with the clean-up, and so he stayed and assisted Wei Ying with the kitchen even after A-Yuan had been brought to bed and fallen asleep. Wei Ying had to almost physically keep him from doing all of the clean-up, and insisted to wash the dishes himself.

And so they had ended next to each other at the kitchen counter, Wei Ying washing the dishes, and Lan Zhan drying them.

It was an odd situation.

Wei Ying suddenly realised that he had never been alone with Lan Zhan before that moment. Whenever they had met before, it was usually when Wei Ying was going out of their apartment block or returning home with A-Yuan. Their interactions had usually been short and to the point, and Wei Ying had elected to think of Lan Zhan however he pleased.

It hadn’t been like this.

He suddenly felt himself growing shy, which was all kinds of ridiculous, because nothing was different from before. Why was he suddenly having feelings about this?

Luckily, Lan Zhan didn’t seem to notice how the mood in the room had suddenly shifted, and continued to stoically dry the dishes and carefully set them aside once they were properly dried.

When the kitchen was clean and all tasks were finished, Lan Zhan hung up his towel to dry, nodded once to himself, and then announced, “I should head home.”

Wei Ying stifled a sigh of mixed relief and regret, and led Lan Zhan to the door of the apartment.

“Thank you,” he said as Lan Zhan slipped into his shoes. “You were a true lifesaver today. Both with the soup and for keeping A-Yuan company.”

Lan Zhan rose up from tying his shoes (who did that, it was only a few metres to his own apartment) and stretched to his full height (which was impressive, he was taller than Wei Ying). He looked at Wei Ying for several long and agonising (for Wei Ying) moments.

“No need for thanks,” Lan Zhan replied. “I would not have offered if it had been an inconvenience. A-Yuan is a good child.”

Wei Ying couldn’t help the little glow of pride and happiness that rose up in his chest. A-Yuan was the best child, and he was lucky to be his father!

He said as much to Lan Zhan, and unless Wei Ying’s eyes started to play tricks on him now, his enthusiasm was answered by the tiniest little smile.

“Good night, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, that smile still present in the corners of his mouth.

Wei Ying felt he liked when Lan Zhan said his name like that.

And then, Lan Zhan reached out, and gently brushed one messy strand of hair out of Wei Ying’s face.  

“Please make sure to take care of yourself, as well.”

And with that, he turned around and left, the apartment door falling shut silently behind him.

Wei Ying stood in front of the closed entrance door for several dumbfounded moments.

Did that just–

Was that–

Lan Zhan–

He let out a garbled sound, remembered that A-Yuan was asleep, and quickly turned towards the wet clothes still piled up in the entrance.

He wasn’t going to sleep.

Might as well do some washing.

 Dammit.

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Etho hurt/comfort fic pretty please? 👉👈👀💚

some etho hurt/comfort coming right up!

featuring: etho has made smarter decisions than this, set in s7 during the end of season stat poker, sometimes your friends just have to tell you you're an idiot

warnings: injury caused by falling, broken rib, pushing self too far/ignoring injuries, some light drinking

It's a stupid misstep.

Etho's foot lands on empty air and the next thing he knows, he's falling. His hands struggle for his water bucket, the one he knows should be just there, but isn't. There's not enough time to twist, or to soften his landing. He barely gets his arms up to protect his head before he's slamming into the ground. The air is forced out of him with a crack that reverberates through his very bones. His next breath comes out as a low hiss, a few ticks passing as his brain tries to catch up with what just happened.

That's when the pain kicks in.

If Etho weren't already lying facedown in the dirt, he would be now.

Air feels forced into his body, stabbing through his chest and back. It's all he can do to groan, and that hurts too. His face pressed into his arms, fingers unconsciously pulling at his hair. His grip tightens with another gasp for air, struggling to take a full breath. He must've dealt with worse than this in the past, he's an experienced player! Being on Hermitcraft with all of its luxuries is making him soft.

Speaking of Hermitcraft.

He wants to groan when he realises he's supposed to meet the others for Stat Poker soon. Thankfully, he convinces himself not to, because as he's learnt: groaning hurts. Not that there's much that doesn't hurt right now. He should back out of the meet up. He doesn't even want to try standing right now, for crying out loud. But it was Tango, and Etho knows the guy needs the break. He can't just bail on him now. With a deep breath, Etho manages to haul onto his side. Every breath comes out as a quick and shallow puff, sending shooting pains through him. Trying to breathe in any deeper than a gasp gives him the urge to curl into a small ball and become one with the dirt.

But, he can't let Tango down. It'll be a good time hanging out together. He just needs to grab a health potion, and maybe tomorrow he can take it easy. Easy enough, anyway.

With a hissed breath, he finally gets his hands flat on the ground and pushes up. His nails dig into the dirt and he already knows it'll be a nightmare to clean out later. When he forces his eyes open, he finds he's managed to sit upright. Great. That's progress. He tries to sigh, but the breath cuts off into a hiss of pain he bites his tongue to bury. Alright, no groaning or sighing then. He can work with that.

Finding a stair block in his inventory, he throws it down to use as a support. His chest feels like it's trying to suffocate him, but he's able to push to his feet. He leans on the block to catch his breath. Health potion, then stat poker.

Pain flares through his chest as he stands upright, his eyes squeezing shut. He thinks he'll walk to the shopping district.

-

"Etho, sweet face!" Keralis's call greets him as Etho pushes the gate open. Etho smiles, trying to catch his breath from the walk over. It's hard when anything deeper than a shallow breath feels a bit like knives prickling into his lungs. The potion hasn't helped as much as he wanted it to, but he can make it through this. It's just hanging out with friends, what could go wrong?

"Hey, K." He nods his head in greeting. Tango and Bdubs turn at the sound of his voice. Tango is the first to bounce away from the bar, holding a glass out for him.

"Glad you could make it, dude! Take a seat, get comfortable. We're just getting snacks." Etho looks into the glass, swirling the deep red liquid. "It's just berry juice," Tango is quick to tell him. "Made specially for you. The rest of us, however-" He clinks his glass against Keralis's on the way back to the bar, throwing a wink Etho's way. Etho rolls his eyes, not wanting to risk the affectionate laugh in his throat. It looks like Bdubs and Keralis have already claimed the seats closest to the button. He lowers himself into a chair across the table carefully, not wanting to make a sudden drop. Once he's down safely, with only a minimal jolt of pain, he relaxes. He sinks back against the chair, tugging his mask down to take a sip of juice. It's fresh, fruity on his tongue. He smiles, forcing the pain out of his mind.

Bdubs strides over, a bowl held in his palm as he bows.

"Your snacks, wonderful patrons." Keralis near dives onto his seat so he can pick some of the honey-glazed nuts from the top. It's a close thing, but somehow Bdubs keeps the bowl steady.

"Keralis! Those are for all of us!" Tango calls, sitting beside Etho with a refilled glass and another bowl.

"I've only taken some!" Keralis protests. "Besides, I've gotta have lots now before Bubbles eats them all!"

"Will not!" Bdubs cries, hands on his hips. Etho snorts, regretting it immediately. At least his mask hides most of his grimace. They're too busy squabbling over the bowl to notice.

"Now, now, children. Let's save the fights for the actual game." Tango smirks as he unpockets his diamonds, holding them in the air. Etho can't help but smile at the dramatics, the way the evening sun glints through the blue. "Are we all ready?"

"Oh no, we're just sitting around this table for no reason," Bdubs says, before throwing his hands up. "Yes, of course we're ready!"

"Might wanna keep that anger in check 'til after you've lost all your diamonds, Bdubs." The words are difficult to get out, but Etho works his way through them. Keeping his voice around its usual talking volume doesn't hurt too bad.

"Oh, I hope you get none of them." Bdubs leans across the table, dark eyes meeting Etho's. Etho smirks.

"So you admit you'll lose them, then?" He teases. Bdubs huffs, sitting back with crossed arms.

"This is unfair. You're ganging up on me already."

Keralis laughs, "Well, you can press the button first. Does that make it fair?"

"Oh, more than fair! I like pressing buttons."

"You sure do," Tango mutters, disguising it with a sip of wine. Etho puffs out a breath, more punched than he intended. Ugh, why do they have to be so damn funny? This is making his job ten times harder. "Etho?" Tango calls, "You okay? Don't often see you making that face."

Etho tries an encouraging smile, crinkling his eyes above the mask, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a bit of a slip earlier." It's technically not a lie.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Bdubs asks.

"Yeah, sure. A hang out with friends has never hurt anyone, right?"

"On this server..." Keralis points out, looking between Bdubs and Tango.

"Hey, we're plenty safe!" Tango argues.

"No, no, I think Keralis has a point with this one," Etho shoots back. Bdubs huffs, slapping the first card face down on the table.

"Gentlemen!" He calls their attention. "Let's begin."

-

So far, Etho's lost a lot of diamonds. Adding in the light system was a stroke of genius that is ruining him. He leans on the table, watching Bdubs finish his second glass. Meanwhile, Etho's barely finished his first glass of juice. Tango holds the next card between his fingers before flipping it dramatically.

"Distance climbed," Etho reads, Tango repeating it soon after. As the discussion breaks out about what exactly that entails, Etho tries to consider his options. He knows his statistics aren't the highest on the server. He splits his time between worlds and that's to his detriment here. Though if he could use his stats from his single-player world... Oh, that would be great.

"Etho, you in?" Bdubs asks, focusing his attention back on the match. Etho looks at the pot. Ten diamonds. That's not too bad.

"I know I'm going to lose this one, but I am nicknamed 'Ladders', so I feel like I have to do it just to see..." His voice trails off as the breathlessness sets in, lungs aching with the strain of his small breaths. He might have to call it soon if this gets much worse, but he can keep going.

"Etho," Bdubs says, leaning across the table. "Out of all these years who has ever called you 'ladders'?"

Tango laughs, and Etho's about to reply when Tango hits his back. Etho doesn't hear Tango's words, too occupied by the feeling of every nerve in his chest setting aflame. He falls forward, with chesty coughs that only hurt more but he can't seem to stop. This is going to kill him. Every gasp feels like a desperate attempt to get oxygen, shivering in agony.

When he manages to blink his eyes open, he can make out blurry shapes moving around him. Something cool slides down his face, hitting his mask until it's pulled down. He makes a weak noise of protest. He doesn't think it's any different from his noises of pain. A hand cards through his hair, something pressed to his lips. He can taste the zing of a health potion and drinks as eagerly as he can.

With the help of the potion, he forces himself to take small breaths. It still hurts. It still hurts a lot. But at least now he can focus on the mortifying situation he's put himself in instead.

"Etho?" Bdubs' voice rings clear now. Etho holds up a shaky hand.

"Gimme- give a minute." He leans on the edge of the table, focusing on taking small breaths. He's not sure how long he's in that position for, until the pain subsides enough for him to dare move again.

"Etho? How are you feeling, sweetface?" Etho looks up to give Keralis a smile, realising his eyes are still filled with tears. He goes to dry his eyes, and Bdubs is quick to press a tissue into his hand.

"Thanks," he mutters. He can see Keralis properly now. Nice. "I'm- yeah. I'm okay now. Didn't think that would happen."

"Yeah," Etho doesn't need to turn to see Tango's disapproving look. "What was that, dude? You nearly keeled over in front of us!" Ugh, he nearly did, didn't he?

"Fell earlier," he murmurs, sticking to half-truths. "Must've landed harder than I thought."

"What hurts?" Bdubs asks. He's standing on his toes, ready to jump back into action. It gives Etho a little smile.

"My chest, mostly. Breathing's pretty hard."

Bdubs hums thoughtfully, "Think you can get back to your own base?" Etho blinks, looking at the half-finished game around them.

"But- the- We're not finished!"

"You're hurt, sweetface! We're not going to continue without you."

"Yeah, it's no fun playing if somebody is gonna cough their guts out." Tango moves his hand towards him before hesitating and thinking better of it. Etho is both thankful and longing for the touch.

"I made it over here," Etho concedes, "I should be fine to get back."

"Good!" Bdubs claps his hands. "Because I don't want to call Doc or Xisuma." Etho cringes at the thought.

"Oh, don't do that to me. I'd never live it down."

"X wouldn't let you leave your base," Tango replies, snickering.

"That's my nickname!"

"Have you seen Doc when he goes all mother hen?" Etho protests, quickly remembering to lower his voice. "And then he just bullies you afterwards!" Bdubs snorts

"I'm not calling him! You're fine, princess."

Bdubs pats Keralis's back, "We can both call Etho a princess, it's okay."

-

The trio insist on walking him home. He doesn't engage much in the conversation, too occupied with breathing and walking at the same time. At one point he ends up leaning on Keralis, because Bdubs is too short, and Tango too skinny. He smirks during the subsequent argument that plays out, closing his eyes and letting Keralis guide his movements. Before he knows it, they're approaching his base. Keralis doesn't let go of him until they've found his bedroom.

"There you go. One comfortable bed," Tango says, patting the covers. Keralis helps Etho sit down, Etho gritting his teeth whilst he gets situated.

"And no leaving it, sir!" Keralis says, back to his dramatic movements now Etho isn't attached to his side. "Bedrest for you."

"Ugh," Etho leans his head against the wall behind him. "That's no fun."

"I think you've had enough fun for today!" Tango decides. "I'm going to grab some potions, make sure you don't need to go anywhere." Etho nods, too tired to thank him. Keralis pets through Etho's hair, Bdubs lightly patting Etho's thigh.

"There you go, you big baby," Bdubs teases, his voice soft with affection. "Get some sleep. It'll be good for you." Etho forces an eye open.

"Isn't sleeping your job?" He whispers. Bdubs scoffs, shaking out Etho's pillows. Keralis, however, laughs loudly. His fingers move to scratching Etho's scalp. That is definitely pulling him to sleep. He has to fight back a yawn.

"Come on, down, down," Keralis encourages. With a bit of help, they settle him against the pillows. His jacket is eased off, head sinking into softness.

"He looks cosy," Tango comments as he returns. Etho hears glass clink as potion bottles are set down near his head.

"Shush, we're trying to make him go to sleep," Bdubs whispers. Etho smiles.

"I'm not sleepin' yet," he mumbles.

"You should be." Is Bdubs' reply. Etho shakes his head, pleased when Keralis's hand returns to petting it.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Keralis tells him.

"Yeah," Tango agrees. "We've just moved our hang out to your base now." Etho opens his eyes, watching as Tango pulls chairs over. Keralis is sitting on his bedside table, and smiles at him when he notices Etho looking.

"You heal up good now, okay? We want a nice and healthy Etho." Etho nods, closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot." He gets another scritch as a reward. It's not long until there's laughter as the three strike up a conversation about something inane. His chest still feels like he was kicked by a horse, but at least he's in good company.

Maybe getting injured was worth it, after all.

... Nah.

[wings-flames-and-thirium]

Dry Humping Headcanons and Scenarios

A/N: So, @lady-bakuhoe and I were thirsting over Fatgum the other day and our conversation turned into this:

So, I decided to put these ideas together into some headcanons and scenarios for you all to enjoy! The majority is gonna be lewd and dirty scenarios cause I lost myself a little there, oops

Warnings: 18+, dry humping, clothed sex, non-con, somnophilia (kind of)

Kirishima Eijirou

Kirishima loves feeling your body against his

He loves the friction the humping creates between the two of you

So he’d definitely love to dry hump you when there isn’t a chance to be intimate properly

If you were already asleep, he would be mindful not to wake you up and just enjoy the feeling in the moment

Being the gentleman he is, he’d also clean you both up afterwards

Scenario:

Kirishima sneaks into your room one night to get one of your panties

He rummages through your drawer to get a pair that he likes but he can’t find one that catches his eye

A soft sound from you makes him jump

He looked over his shoulder, checking that you didn’t wake up

As you turn around to lay on your other side, the bedsheets slip down to expose your naked legs and Kirishima spots a pair of dark red, lacy panties snugging around your hips

He licks his lips

“That’s it, that’s the pair I want”

He carefully gets up and makes his way to your bed

Kirishima carefully turns you on your back and begins to move the fabric down your thighs

The soft skin that peeks out forth from under your panties makes him even more excited

He pushes the fabric further down, feeling how his cock starts twitching in excitement

He pauses…. “Fuck it!”

Kirishima slowly repositions your panties and gets fully on top of you

His eyes are focused on you, careful to watch that you didn’t wake up as he slowly pulls down his pants to pull out his cock

He starts rubbing his dick against your clothed sex and the warmth he can feel coming from underneath the fabric has his mind spinning

The friction this one barrier of clothing creates, paired with how your mouth falls agape slightly made Kirishima go feral on the inside

He drops down, supporting himself above your body on his arms, grinding against you harder, his nails dig into the bedsheets while he humps into you

He holds back a moan by biting down hard on his lip when he feels himself slipping past the point of now return

Kirishima sits back up, fisiting his cock a few more times before he cums with a low and silent groan all over your stomach

He thought for a split second that he woke you up, but when he only saw you flinching slightly, he sighed in relief

He quietly reached to your bedside table to get some tissues (he knew you would always keep there) and cleaned you both up before resuming his mission

Kirishima slipped down your panties again, slowly lifting your legs to get the fabric passed your knees

When he successfully removed your undergarments, he quietly made his way back to his own room again.

That night, he would masturbate to the thought of you under him while holding the panties he conquered

Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou wouldn’t be a huge fan of dry humping

He does enjoy friction to build up tension and likes teasing you but definitely would be the type to enjoy more skin contact when it comes to being intimate

If it does happen that he’d get into the situation of dry humping you, he’d do it, but would be rather embarrassed afterwards

Scenario:

It was early morning and you woke up with Bakugou spooning you in your shared bed

You opened your eyes lazily, realizing that you woke up earlier than your boyfriend

You tried you relax back into his touch and drift off to sleep in his arms again

Until you hear Bakugou from behind starting to breathe heavily

He tightens his arms around your waist, snuggling closer, linking his hips so his morning bulge was pressed against your behind and then starts rubbing up and down against you

Bakugou rhythmically started to hump you, his breath hitching, growling and mumbling something incoherent

Seems like he was still asleep

You enjoyed how he rubbed up and held you, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers with every movement

Deciding to also get something out of it, you started rolling your hips back, meeting his thrusts

It actually didn’t take long for him to be huffing, face buried in your hair and holding you closer

With a low grunt, pinning your hips in place, you met Bakugou’s upward thrust with a downward shift of your hips, hearing him moan softly behind you  before stopping his movements

You looked over your shoulder to see a large wet spot having formed on the front of Bakugou’s boxers, a few drops of white liquid trickling down the inside of his thigh

Fatgum (Taishiro Toyomitsu)

Fatgum would be a bit afraid to hurt you when you first get intimate because of the size difference

But he loves having you against him, especially having you in sit in his lap to hold you close and cuddle you and yes, also rub up against you 

He could keep you in his lap all day long 

Scenario:

He forgot his lunch box one day at home and you decided to bring it over to his agency

You went into his office to greet him with a kiss and then setting his lunchbox down on the table

He’d be flustered that he actually forgot the lunch you prepared for him, so he’d pull you into his lap so he could make it up to you, enjoy the lunch break together

His Interns and sidekicks were all mostly off on their breaks, too, so you had a little time to yourself

You being with him like this, being seated comfortably in his lap, listening to how he tells you about the new restaurants he found while on patrol this morning

After he was done eating, he would thank you by peppering you with kisses

Your whole face would get attacked: cheeks, temples, the corners of your mouth

You could feel how your reactions to his kisses already affected his cock  as it hardened in between your thighs

The fact that his member would be rather large didn’t make it easier to hide his arousal, so you would often feel it through his pants without him even being fully erect yet

Fatgum’s hands start roaming your body, up your chest as his hips buck up slightly, his face nuzzling your neck

Occasionally, he would flick his tongue across the soft spot behind your ear and biting down on your neck

You could feel his cock strain against his pants as he breathes in your ear

“Oh sweetie you make me want you so bad”

He hooks two fingers and pushes your pants down, then attending to his own pants, undoing the belt to rub against you with one layer less

His large cock formed a visible tent in his boxers and Fatgum starts to buck his hips again

You tried your best to stay still, sighing as you enjoyed how his cock rubs against your cheeks reaching and up your back

“Fuck, you always feel so good against me” Fatgum moaned, you could feel his sticky  precum on your back as he continued his thrusts

He would even go so far as to lift you up and maneuver his cock so it was pressing against your clothed sex, dragging it in slow circles on the outsides of your entrance

In the end, he’d continue to rub along your panties, the position making his tip press against your clit from time to time, overstimulating him until he jerks back and cums all over your back

Hawks (Takami Keigo)

Hawks is a cheeky man when it comes to doing this sort of thing

He wouldn’t be ashamed at all when he dry humps you

He loves your body and the feeling of it against his

He wouldn’t hold back 

When you’re sleeping and he’s dry humping you, he’d sometimes actually be purposefully moaning into your ear, just to wake you 

He loves to see you all startled and flustered once you realize what he’s doing

Hawks would drink in all your beautiful reactions

He loves seeing you like this, especially because he knows how sensitive you can be right after waking up

Scenario:

It was a quiet night

Hawks was on his usual night patrol around town but decided to pay you a little visit tonight

He needed you

It had been a stressful night so far and he still had 4 more hours to go

So he figured, why not pay you a little visit for some stress relief?

He flew to your apartment, smiling when he saw that you left the balcony door open for him

You were so thoughtful

As soon as he landed on the balcony, Hawks unbuckled his pants and snuck inside to your bed where you were sleeping peacefully

He had to be quick about this

He pulled back the sheets and lay down behind you, rubbing his clothed cock against the shorts you were wearing

His hands came to grip your hips and push you back onto him in time with his thrusts 

You shuffled in your sleep and Hawks grinned, grinding his cock into you harder

He leans over to ghost his lips over the back of your neck, before traveling up and biting down hard on your earlobe 

You mewled and pushed back onto his cock 

Hawks chuckled, you were already in the process of waking up. Good

He rubs against you harder and releases one hand from your hip to grab your ass cheek before slapping it, grinning when, with a gasp, your eyes shot open and you woke up

“Keigo, what the- ah! I-I thought you were on patrol tonight”

“Sorry dove, had to pop in to let some steam off,” he said while continuing to rub and rut against you until he eventually cums with a loud moan

[marvellovegalore]

Hurting you

Chris Evans

Part Une - Loving You

Synopsis: You encounter your lost love Christopher and you talk about how you've done something awful.

Word Count: 1,954

Author note: This part is the follow-up to my latest write up, which I realise didn't garner much attention, but a second part was requested. Strongly advised to read part one.

Warning: Explicit Language, Mention of Drugs

Champagne showers your throat, its cool bubbles rippling inside you and all the way down your body. Your hips sway as you make your way through the tightly packed group of people. Laughter surrounds you as you re-join the dancing fray. A green-eyed model grabs you around the waist, his hands grabbing the thin material of your dress. The end of your dress dances over your high-heeled feet, you twist in the model’s arms and sway against him. Your back presses against him and he holds you tighter.

He whispers something in your ear, something or another about leaving with him to ‘fuck’ on the beach. You barely hear it over the music. Your eyes scanning over your friends that are sprawled around the room, all of them dressed in their finest threads. You would have taken him up on the offer, had it not been for the fact that you have been dating a particular Hollywood leading actor. You’d rather not have any outright fight at a party you’re enjoying because of ‘cheating’.

You move away from the model’s tight hold; you can almost hear his sigh. You dance over to a friend who beckons you to come with her to the bar. You gladly follow, reaching the bar takes a few minutes due to the crowd clambering over their drinks. You finally reach the bar; you lounge on the mirrored countertop. The barman approaches you, “Death in the Afternoon.” You wink at him, he smiles politely.

You turn and scan the room your eyes glazing the room, you catch sight of your date, hiding in a nook. He raises a glass to you, and you turn away from him. Drinking the sight of the partying people fills your stomach, many of them can’t help but stare at you, your presence like a diamond in the rough.

And there he is.

Your breath catches in your throat.

His arm draped across the shoulders of a tanned brunette; her eyes unmoving - glued to his. His lips ghost over hers, they way they used to do to your lips; giggles are whispered through her lips. Wearing a full suit with an undone bow tie strung around his neck - he looks like a drunken dream.

You want him.

He hasn’t noticed you. Or is pretending that he hasn’t.

It’s been six months since that night. You barely remember it; you were so intoxicated - on alcohol and Diazepam. An entirely irresponsible mixture, you try to pretend to yourself that you don’t know why you took what you did; but you know why. It was the only way that you had the courage to do what you did. Otherwise, you’d be with—

“One Death in the Afternoon.” The muscular barman places the crystal flute in front of you, you let a smirk grace your lips. If you weren’t in the same room as your date, you’d fuck him. But you’re trying to change.

You turn back in his direction, your friend also spots him, she promises that she’ll do everything to keep you guys apart. Your friends and family were informed of an amicable break-up with tears shed on both sides - by him. The media reported something similar - both PR teams sending well wishes to the other party and asking for privacy for those involved.

You weren’t aware of the amicable breakup until the email was forwarded to you by your PR head. You had blocked his number, but he had blocked you in every other way possible; you won’t pretend that it was unwarranted. Nor will you pretend that it didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t begin to imagine how much he was hurt.

You’ve done worse, but you don’t think you’ve ever done it to someone you actually loved.

You find yourself back in the folie of dancing, your dress billowing around your legs, its silky touch caressing your skin. You catch sight of the tanned brunette entering the dance floor; he’s following her, his hands toying with her waist.

They dance closely, his eyes roaming her body hungrily. You feel like vomiting. This isn’t fair. You close your eyes and knock your head back, willing the horrible sight away. The songs change twice before you open your eyes properly, your eyes immediately lower to where he is. Their lips are locked, their eyes shut off from the party, his hands dance on her arse.

You are most definitely going to throw up.

You rush away from the crowd, attracting concerned gazes, brushing off the offers of help, you finally manage to leave the house. You edge towards the pool and double over, you dry heave over the grass. You will the vomit up, but it is to no avail. You move away from the tennis style grass and make your way through the garden. Your walk leads you to the sea just beyond the expansive garden. The sky is a warm umber, the setting sun barely visible.

You don’t know how long you’ve been stood there, but you feel a presence behind you. You pray it’s not your date - demanding you keep him company.

You turn and feel your heart stop.

He looks beautiful. It’s the most undeniable beauty you’ve ever seen. He makes your heart throb.

Your heart swells, a feeling you’ve only ever felt once blanketing your heart.

Longing.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust someone so much ever again.” His voice is husky, his accent very noticeable. “I couldn’t figure out whether speaking to you would be a good idea, but I really wanted to understand,” he sighs deeply, his fingers whisking out a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket, “even a slither of your psyche.” He lights one cigarette and exhales.

You watch him intently but divert your gaze when he looks at you. “What do you mean?” You whisper. Your courage has left you, and your confidence has set itself on fire.

He nudges the cigarette towards you, “I know you’re more of a vogues girl, but you’re going to have to forgo that right now.” You take the offered cig and pop it in between your lips. It tastes of him somehow and you want to die. “I’ve been fucked up since I left Massachusetts, unbelievably so. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.” He takes a tremulous breath.

You’re frozen. The cigarette needing to be ashed, he takes it from your fingers. He takes a swift inhalation. “I may have developed a mild dependency on alcohol… and on you. I can’t go to parties without thinking of you. I can’t get out of bed without thinking of you, I can’t breathe — without thinking of you.” His breathing is steady, his words stronger than the wind carried by the sea. You can’t breathe, his words taking the majority of your oxygen, he hands you back the cigarette.

“If I hadn’t done it then, you would have done it first.” You shiver with the cold breeze from the surf. If you could choose between kissing him or dissipating, you would choose to dissipate right into the sand.

His eyes flash across to you, his irises seething with anguish and droplets of anger. “It’s not a race, it never should be.” His hiss cuts across your chest, almost shattering your pearls. “I loved you, like I’ve never loved anyone.” His words make you look at him. The eyes that haunt your dreams are there, right there, less than a step away. The wind brushes his tendrils of golden hair across his face, he looks like a kaleidoscope manifested into flesh. “But I hate you now, in ways I have never hated someone.”

You feel like you’ve been stabbed in the neck.

You can feel a tear slip past your eyelashes, and you almost curse the skies. “That’s fine.” You choke quietly, your voice on the cusp of being drowned by the waves.

“I’ve moved on. I’m happy.” He sighs, he dashes the cigarette stub into the ocean, his hands going back into his pockets. His eyes don’t shift away from yours. “But you haunt me.” He looks away, towards the darkened horizon. “If I could choose between you dying or the Boston bomber - I would choose you.”

Your eyes widen with horror.

You’ve never been confronted with the pain you’ve caused. It’s never bothered you that men would desperately try to tarnish your image in salacious magazines. But this, this hurt you. Finally.

You can’t stop the tears now. You sink into the sand. The water washes against the borders of your legs. You choke a sob back.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is small and dejected.

“That’s alright.” He’s lit another cigarette. He sits down next to you, offering you a toke. You take it, peaking at him from under your eyelashes.

Looking up at him, you’re met with a longing gaze.

You’re going to wonder forever what’s possessed him, but his lips find yours. They’re the light at the end of the tunnel and following the path to it guarantees his survival.

The embrace is bittersweet, sprinkled with pleasant familiarity. The taste of smoke tendrils dances between your tongues. His fingers swim in your hair, greedily pulling you deeper into his kiss. You want to die in his arms, it would be indeed the heavenliest way to die. You grab his shirt and hold on for dear life, his wine-soaked tongue intoxicating you further. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids and you sink further into him.

He breaks away from the kiss. His eyes riddled with unspoken secrets.

He stands up, his hand extending towards you. Lifting you to your feet and taking your hand in his, he begins to sway with you to the muffled music coming from the house. His hand rests above your bum, comfortably leading you in this dance. You lean your head against his chest, inhaling the smell of cologne and Marlboro Reds. The smell that used to wake you up on holiday weekends. A tear slips from your eye, a manifestation of your longing and your need for him.

Why do hurt people, hurt people?

You recall the day your father left your mother for dead.

“Where’s mum going, daddy?” You look up at the towering figure of your father.

His stern gaze remains on the distressed woman being handcuffed to the gurney. He brushes off your question with a glare embalmed with stone. You gulp and return your stare to your screaming mother; you rush to her, but a paramedic stops you in your tracks. Your mothers begs your father to let her go, her cries echoing around the front garden. Her roses seemingly wilt in sympathy for their weeping creator. She screams and fights against the paramedics, your father doesn’t wait until the doors of the ambulance have been closed before he closes the front door.

You rush to the living room window, standing beyond the curtain with your face pressed against the glass, you watch your mother being driven away.

You’ll never see her again and never know where she took her last breaths; and you’ll be transferred to board at your school. You see your father annually and eventually he leaves you for retirement in South Africa, you’re alone and unloved.

So, you steal hearts so that your own can heal.

Chris breaks your dance, his hypnotising spell diluted by the distance imposed by his now hardened glare. He turns and leaves, his shadow furthering away from your own. You watch in astonishment as he leaves you, cigarette smoke billowing away from his receding figure.

You can’t help the stream that washes your cheekbones.

He’s done the impossible - broke you.

-

Part 3 -

[demonsandco]

Okay okay we know with their demon forms it requires a lot of upkeep now what do you think they would do and what they need help with. Cause what comes to mind is a family grooming session 😊

I love this ask thank youuuu. I wasn't sure if you wanted their canon forms, but this is mostly based on my own personal headcanons for their demon forms! I hope you don’t mind that :) It would be much easier for them to handle their insane forms, but what's the fun in that?

Before I start, all demon horns need constant maintenance. Demon horns never actually stop growing, so routine sanding, usually with a custom shaped whetstone, is important to keep horns smooth and to keep them from getting too long. Without proper care, horns can easily become overgrown and asymmetrical, as well as gain a rough, dry and almost scaly texture, which is rather uncomfortable for the demon in question

All other forms of upkeep vary from demon to demon, depending on what features they have (ei. scales, feathers, fur, hair, etc.).

Lucifer

Lucifer's horns are rather easy to reach, curling forward along the sides of his head, so it's fairly simple for him to keep them maintained himself. It's something that he does often, especially because neglecting them could easily impact his image. After all, it's common to see him bring out his demon form to intimidate others, and he wants to make sure he looks well put together. Caring for his horns is not much different than shaving his face in the morning, nothing more than a quick and simple part of his routine.

The thing that actually gives Lucifer trouble is his wings and tail. General self care is something he can handle easily, but feathers naturally wear down and need to be replaced, which means molting. Molting leaves him feeling absolutely miserable. His entire back starts looking patchy and he feels itchy and irritated all over, but he can never seem to properly reach the areas giving him trouble himself. His pride tends to get in the way of asking for help, so he's often left to suffer through it until the new feathers finish growing in.

Lucifer would need to trust someone quite a bit in order to let them help, but it's always a huge relief to have that itchiness soothed by a caring hand. Most often, Mammon ends up being the one to help out. Not only is the second born the only other one who still has feathers, but he's also very skilled at reading Lucifer's moods and telling when he needs help. They never speak about it afterwards, but it's a much needed binding experience for both of them.

(The rest are under the cut)

Mammon

Being a model, Mammon takes very good care of his appearance. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he does it, his horns always give him an insane amount of trouble. They're very tightly coiled and rest at a slightly backwards angle, making it difficult for Mammon to reach the inside parts of his horns. It's not uncommon to see him sulking his way over to Asmodeus' room for help with those hard to reach areas, after spending hours trying to do it himself and failing.

Other than his horns, Mammon has it pretty easy. Like Lucifer, he has to deal with molting, but it never seems to last too long for him, much to the eldest's envy. His wings are also featherless, so molting is nowhere near as uncomfortable for him. The only big feathers he needs to worry about replacing are the ones on his tail. The rest are much smaller and less irritating to regrow.

His wings and other featherless areas do need extra care, though, in the form of moisturizing. Without protection from feathers, those areas get dry and cracked easily, especially if he goes flying. To deal with it, he's got a pretty big collection of scented moisturizing lotions and oils that he can pick from, most of which were gifts from Asmodeus, since they have similar wings.

Leviathan

Levi's demon form is rather unique compared to his brothers. Instead of having true horns, he has antlers. Rather than needing constant care, his horns grow to their full size, shed their outer layer of skin and then eventually fall off to start the process again. Levi often goes to the ocean to isolate himself when his horns are ready to fall. He usually lets them sink to the bottom, where they take the form of the devildom equivalent of coral, providing shelter for aquatic life.

On top of shedding his horns, he also sheds his skin. His sheds are entirely determined by his horns, happening once when the antlers are full grown and ready to lose their protective, velvety skin, and again later on when they're ready to fall. While his antlers' life cycle is reminiscent of a deer's, the shedding of his skin is very similar to a snake's shed. It's not hard to tell when Levi is close to shedding. The old skin begins to separate itself from his new scales, giving him a dull gray sheen over his body and his eyes begin to look dull and glazed over.

It's definitely not a pleasant feeling and he can't see very well through the skin either, so he tends to avoid his brothers. High humidity is also needed for him to shed properly, so if he can't go hide out at sea, Levi's going to lock himself in his room and soak miserably in his bathtub.

Satan

Satan's self care routine isn't too difficult, but it's definitely the most time consuming and he absolutely hates it. He's not the most patient demon, especially when it comes to tasks that he thinks are wasting his time. When it's time for him to maintain his more demonic features, Satan needs to put aside an entire day for it.

Satan's horns are easy enough for him to handle. The inside part of the sharp curve of them often gives him some trouble, but he's nothing if not stubborn, so he usually manages to sort it out on his own. Horns on their own are rather time-consuming to care for, but what really takes up all of Satan's time is the multiple other horn-like protrusions along his body, as well as his tail. He's got boney spikes in the areas that his bones are closer to the skin (elbows, spine, ribs, jaw, etc.) and, like regular horns, they're constantly growing.

Whether he likes it or not, he always ends up needing to ask someone for help, and that someone usually ends up being Asmo. Not only is the process tedious, but he also has a very hard time reaching the spines on his back properly, so a helping hand is very useful.

Asmodeus

Unsurprisingly, Asmo has a very in depth routine that he follows to a t. Every week, he sets aside an evening to take care of his horns and wings specifically, sanding down his horns to keep them smooth and shiny, and moisturizing his wings with oils and lotions to keep the skin supple and soft. Being related to scorpions, Asmo also has a carapace in his true form that resembles the exoskeleton of actual scorpions. It doesn't need much extra care, but he always makes sure to keep it bright and polished.

The downside to his carapace is that it can't actually heal unless Asmo molts and completely replaces it. He's not the biggest fan of molting, but he'll force himself to molt early if he gets scratched or hurt in any way. He can't stand the thought of any part of him looking dull or banged up.

Overall, though, Asmo definitely has his self care handled perfectly. He's also very particular about how things are done, so he's very hesitant to let anyone else do it for him. He does, however, love helping his brothers out with grooming and self care. Especially the ones that he knows are likely to neglect themselves without a proper push.

Beelzebub

Beel's self care leaves much to be desired. He's completely horrible at taking care of his demonic attributes, but he often forgets about it or runs out of time. It's not uncommon for his horns to be rough and chipped or for his insect-like carapace to look dull and roughed up, especially with how aggressive his sports matches can get. Between school, working out, fangol and his constant hunger, regular upkeep gets put on the backburner.

Luckily, Beel and his twin often partake in allogrooming! They both find it easier to take care of each other, rather than themselves. This is especially helpful when it comes to Beel's horns. They curve so tightly along the sides of his head that he can't actually fit his hands between the horns and his skin to smooth them out. Belphie, on the other hand, has much smaller hands and can easily reach around and sand them down, while Beel takes care of him in turn. They rarely talk during these moments, but it serves as good bonding time for the two of them.

Beel's carapace is something he can handle himself, mostly because it doesn't really require anything. Like Asmo's, the only way for his carapace to "heal" is for him to molt and replace it, which he puts off for as long as possible. It's thick and hardy and since he doesn't put much stock in looking perfectly put together, he doesn't worry about it all that much. Whenever he does feel the need to molt, it goes by pretty quickly and he's back to his regular schedule in no time.

Belphegor

Belphie is honestly the worst at taking care of himself. Not because he doesn't care, but because he has such a hard time gathering up enough motivation to even get up in the mornings, much less put in the effort to look nice. If no one steps in, he can go days at a time without brushing just the hair on his head. Even on the days that he does that much, chances are that he didn't bother brushing the rest of his fur, too. After all, if he just doesn't show off his demon form, then no one will notice right?

Luckily for him, Beel does notice when his twin hasn't been caring for himself. While the rest of the brothers only need to worry about their demon forms every other week or even just once a month, Belphie needs to do it daily because of his coat. Without proper daily care, his hair gets oily and matted together very easily, which only makes it harder to deal with later. Beel knows that that's a lot to handle and often steps to brush out his twin's coat, even if he doesn't need any help in return. It's much easier for Belphie to feel motivated enough to help groom Beel than it is to care for himself, so their joint grooming helps them both.

On a similar note, Belphie has quite a bit of trouble with his horns and he constantly puts off taking care of them until they begin causing him physical discomfort. In the past, there's been a few times where he's let them grow a couple extra curls before they started weighing him down so much that he had to take care of it. With his twin's help, and a strictly imposed schedule, his horns haven't gotten that bad in ages, but they still tend to be rather rough most of the time. He also needs to sand down his hooves in a similar fashion. Normally, they'd be maintained just by walking on rough surfaces, but Belphie definitely doesn't walk around enough for that.

If Beel's not around to help out, Belphie has no qualms with playing the baby brother card and whining until one of the others agrees to help him. He's always willing to groom them in return, though, so he usually gets his way pretty easily.

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

Non-despair AU! And ever since I watched that thirty minute anime clip with Nagito’s perspective on things, I’ve really liked the idea of him being buds with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko. And Nagito openly talks about his past trauma on a plane so… what better way to bond than bonding over trauma? Anyway, I love these three so much. Also Komahina because I love them - Circle

(Also forgot to add this, sorry, but it’s on AO3 too) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33483538

Warning: descriptions of panic attacks, nausea, motion sickness, very mild vomiting (like barely any).

Fuyuhiko always thought Nagito was spouting a whole load of bullshit when he lamented about his talent being useless; he would’ve loved having Ultimate Luck right now.

“Haha! You got the short straw, Fuyuhiko!” Akane crowed. “Tough luck!”

“Wait, no! Can’t we do a best of three?”

“Somebody has to sit with them, man,” Nekomaru said. “You guys are already friends, it’ll be a great bonding experience.”

“I don’t want to bond with them in that situation. Because you all know it’ll be a shit show. That’s why we’re fucking doing this,” Fuyuhiko growled, glaring at each of his classmates in turn. Only two were missing, the pair who’d triggered this whole unfortunate drawing of straws in the first place.

“Why can’t you sit with them, Hajime? Nagito is always hanging off you anyway. And Kazuichi is your friend too,” Fuyuhiko said.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Fuyuhiko.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I didn’t draw the short straw.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Fuyuhiko stomped away, his classmates’ laughter echoing behind him. This class trip was already more trouble than it was worth and it hadn’t even started. He was almost tempted to skip the plane journey with the rest of them and hop on a different flight to Novoselic, just to show them. It wasn’t like he needed Sonia to pay his way. But she’d been so enthusiastic about taking her friends to see her home country, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t think of any way to tell her without causing offence. He couldn’t really say he just didn’t want to be stuck babysitting Kazuichi and Nagito on a flight.

It wasn’t that Fuyuhiko didn’t like Kazuichi and Nagito. Sure, Kazuichi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, and Nagito would go all weird and self-deprecating if you didn’t watch out, but Fuyuhiko still considered them close friends. But the flight to Novoselic was long. Kazuichi could get motion sickness on a fucking bicycle, and Nagito hadn’t set foot on a plane since his parents died on one right in front of his eyes. There was no way it could possibly go well. Fuyuhiko pictured hour after hour of Kazuichi puking and complaining and Nagito… well, he wasn’t sure what the hell Nagito would do. He’d never seen Nagito get flustered before. Hell, that was much more terrifying. He had to get out of this.

In the days before the trip, Fuyuhiko kept trying to convince his kinder classmates to take responsibility for at least one of the other men. “It’s gonna be impossible to help them both,” Fuyuhiko said. “It’ll be better for them if you help me.”

“You could sit between them,” Mahiru said. “And I’ve already promised Hiyoko I’ll sit with her. Sorry.”

Asking Twogami was a no-go too. “It’ll be more considerate to the other passengers if they’re both in one area,” he said. “To limit the disturbance if they become distressed.”

“I’m the one who’ll be feeling fucking distressed,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

Peko overheard, and came over at once. “I’ll take your burden, young master.”

“No, not you!” Fuyuhiko hated the whine in his tone - and he hated the smirk on Twogami’s face too. “You don’t have to do it. You sit with Gundham and pet his hamsters or something. I… I want you to be happy,” he mumbled, blushing fiercely.

Damn it. He could be as bad as Kazuichi sometimes.

There was no way to wriggle out of it. The morning of the trip dawned bright and sunny, and Fuyuhiko’s ticket set him directly between Kazuichi and Nagito. Fantastic.

At least check-in and security went by reasonably peacefully, the walk to their gate quiet. Only Akane and Nekomaru seemed to be properly awake this early in the day, and they stuck with each other. Fuyuhiko glanced at his two friends. Kazuichi still seemed half-asleep, curled on one of the uncomfortable chairs by the gate, watching the planes take off and land in the distance through the huge windows. Nagito was much more concerning. He was smiling brightly… but he didn’t look happy at all.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko, want to know how a plane engine works?” Kazuichi asked.

“No,” he said, but he sat down with a sigh as Kazuichi started talking anyway. He tuned out after a second, though Nagito looked like he was listening.

“Seeing you talk about your ultimate talent is so inspiring, Kazuichi,” Nagito said - and smiled. That weird smile again, desperate and strained.

“It’s nothing. I just think planes are interesting. From an engineering point of view. I really wish I didn’t have to fucking ride one,” Kazuichi groaned.

“Aha, I can’t help feeling apprehensive too. The last time I was on a flight, both my parents died.” Nagito spoke emotionlessly, as if reciting a shopping list, but that smile was still fixed on his face. “But it’s okay. That bad luck brought me a lot of good luck later on. You just have to have hope that things will work out.”

Kazuichi stared at him, mouth open. “Um. Okay. Sorry.” He caught Fuyuhiko’s eye and mouthed what the fuck? Fuyuhiko wasn’t sure if Kazuichi was just now hearing the story or if he was confused by Nagito’s weird behaviour. He shrugged helplessly.

There wasn’t much conversation after that. You couldn’t really carry on your casual chit-chat right after somebody brought up their dead parents. Fuyuhiko kept an eye on Nagito. He was bolt upright in his seat, his eyes staring straight ahead, hands clasped so tight in his lap his knuckles bleached white. With his pale hair and ashen face, he looked like all the blood had drained out of him completely.

Their flight number was called far too soon, and Fuyuhiko dragged his motley crew to the right aisle, pondering where to put everyone. Kazuichi should probably be on the end if he’d be passing vomit bags to some poor stewardess. Fuyuhiko needed to be in the middle, so that left Nagito by the window. He’d have to keep the shutter pulled down.

Hajime passed them on the way to his own seat, and stopped short when he saw Nagito’s face. He leaned right over Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko, ignoring their complaints and curses, and took Nagito’s hand. “Are you alright? You look… off.”

“Don’t worry about me, Hajime.”

“Your hands are clammy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. How disgusting for you,” Nagito said, smiling. Always smiling.

“That’s not what I meant… Look, do you want to sit with me?”

“Can we move it along please?” somebody called irritably down the aisle.

“You’re holding up the line, Hajime. Don’t worry about me,” Nagito repeated. Hajime looked like he was worrying dreadfully, but he was forced to move along. Nagito clasped his hands again and fixed his gaze on the seat in front, smiling smiling smiling. It was freaking Fuyuhiko out. He looked like he was wearing a mask and his eyes were the only real part of him, swirling with turmoil.

“Hey.” Kazuichi nudged Fuyuhiko’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Are Hajime and Nagito… you know. A thing?”

“Mate, you told me you’ve seen them leave Hajime’s cabin together in the mornings.”

“They could just be having a sleepover. As bros.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Kazuichi.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t want Hajime to get a new best friend,” Kazuichi said.

Fuyuhiko sighed. “I think you’re safe.”

There was a pause. Then another shoulder nudge a second later. “So Hajime and Nagito? Seriously? Am I the only person on my own in this class?” Kazuichi muttered.

Fuyuhiko was spared from responding by the flight attendants starting the safety briefing, demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks and the life jackets in case of emergency. He had to admit, it was pretty eerie to think that you could, however unlikely it may be, crash into the ocean or need extra oxygen to live long enough to get to land. He glanced over at Nagito nervously. His arms were now curled across his chest, hands gripping his elbows. His head was bent, a cloud of puffy hair hiding his face. Maybe that was for the best.

“Can you try not to puke as long as possible?” Fuyuhiko whispered to Kazuichi. “I feel like I might have a situation to deal with.”

“I’m never trying to puke,” Kazuichi said, but he seemed worried too, glancing past Fuyuhiko. “Hey, Nagito, you doing alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, Kazuichi,” Nagito said, eerily calmly.

“That’s not the same thing as saying you’re fine, is it?” Kazuichi whispered to Fuyuhiko.

“He’s clearly not fucking fine,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“Should I ask Hajime to swap?” Kazuichi asked.

Fuyuhiko nodded, but before Kazuichi could even undo his seatbelt, the plane jerked and started reversing out of the gate. Fuyuhiko heard Nagito draw in his breath sharply - then he was the one fumbling for his seatbelt, standing unsteadily.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Fuyuhiko yelled, catching onto the back of Nagito’s coat as he tried to clamber over the seats. “Sit down!”

“I’m afraid I need to get off,” Nagito said, voice still calm despite his frantic movements.

“It’s already moving, for God’s sake! Sit down before a flight attendant sees you!” It wasn’t hard to force Nagito back into his seat - he seemed light enough for a strong gust of wind to knock him over - and Souda hastily got the belt fastened again just as the plane rolled onto the runway.

“Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine,” Fuyuhiko gabbled, trying hard not to shout or swear or scream at all his classmates for making him deal with this. “Just sit still and… I dunno, plug your ears. The takeoff part is the worst.”

There was a cacophony of whirring as the engines roared to life and Fuyuhiko would be very grateful for all that noise in a second, because Nagito started to laugh. Dry, hysterical laughter, his eyes over-bright and manic, lips bared in that grisly parody of a smile.

“Has he lost his fucking mind?” Kazuichi asked, sounding genuinely frightened.

“You must really hate me, Fuyuhiko,” Nagito gasped. “To restrain me here… You must despise me.”

“I’m not restraining you!”

“Then let me off.” He locked eyes with Fuyuhiko and for a second the manic grin faded. “Please…”

The engines roared to a crescendo and the plane shot forward so quickly everyone was pinned to their seats with the force, zooming on and on until they could feel the entire structure lurch into the air. Kazuichi groaned softly, shutting his eyes, but Fuyuhiko was far more focused on Nagito. He had his eyes squeezed shut too, but his hand clamped hard onto Fuyuhiko’s arm. Really fucking hard. Shit, maybe Nagito wasn’t as weak as he looked. Fuyuhiko cursed as his terrified companion started digging his nails into his skin, actually drawing blood. The pain prompted Fuyuhiko to try prying the hand loose a little, but Nagito clamped on harder, carving several new scratches. Fuyuhiko didn’t dare attempt again; he’d get his arm cut to ribbons.

When the plane was flying high and the swirling, disoriented feeling had eased, Fuyuhiko checked on both men. Kazuichi had his head in his hands, but he gave a shaky thumbs up when Fuyuhiko prodded him.

“‘M okay,” he mumbled. “Got through takeoff. Gets better when it’s levelling out.”

“Right, good. Try to stay that way, yeah? I’ve got a lot to handle right now,” Fuyuhiko sighed. Nagito was still shredding his arm up, but he could feel one finger tapping for attention.

“What? What do you need? Please, no bullshit, Nagito. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” Fuyuhiko said. He was practically yelling in his panic, and the people across the aisle turned to glare.

It was several seconds before Nagito could gather enough breath to speak. Fuyuhiko saw that awful smile stretch across his face again, like somebody had twisted his frown the wrong way round. “Aha, I’m sorry to trouble you, Fuyuhiko, but I think I might be having a panic attack.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko felt like he was going to have a panic attack too. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t seem to catch my breath. And the cabin has been spinning for several minutes.”

“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you say anything?” Fuyuhiko hurriedly pushed Nagito’s head down as far as it would go before it bumped the seat in front. “Fucking… think of things you can see or something? Shit, I don’t remember.”

“Five things you can see,” Kazuichi chimed in. “Is he really gonna pass out? Hajime is gonna kill us.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him for leaving this shit to us! How stupid can you get?”

“Ahh, I’m such a nuisance. If I’d known I’d react in such a shameful way, I’d have been sure to take a seat away from all the Ultimates. Why are you taking care of someone like me?”

“Nagito, shut up, this isn’t your fault,” Fuyuhiko said shortly. “Stop babbling on about ultimates and do the panic attack thing. Listen to Kazuichi, he knows how to do it.”

Nagito did as he was told, working through the grounding techniques with Kazuichi while Fuyuhiko held onto his shoulders feeling helpless. Nagito was shaking so hard it was difficult not to drop him altogether. He didn’t pass out, but even after the grounding Nagito looked far from what you’d consider calm. He was grey-white when Fuyuhiko carefully hauled him back upright.

“Are you okay..?”

The smile came back, though it seemed a lot more tired than manic this time. “Ah… I don’t think so, Fuyuhiko.”

“Well. At least you’re honest. Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Physically, I mean. Clearly I see you’re fucked mentally. And please stop smiling like that, you’re creeping me out,” Fuyuhiko said.

Nagito finally released his grip on Fuyuhiko’s arm, his nails coated with blood. He bent forward slowly, carefully, like he was terrified any sudden movements would send him spiralling again, and let his elbows rest on his knees. “I still feel slightly lightheaded. And nauseous. I’d still like to get off.”

Fuyuhiko examined the long scratches on his arm, sighing and mopping the blood with his sleeve. “Well, you’d have a long drop if you tried to get off now. You should cut your damn fingernails too. I’m going to get Hajime.” He turned to Kazuichi. “Watch him for a minute, okay? I don’t fucking care about drawing the short straw anymore, I can’t handle this.” Fuyuhiko scrambled over Kazuichi’s lap into the aisle, ignoring the flight attendant yelling for him to remain in his seat until the seatbelt signs went off.

“Hey! What did you mean drawing the short straw?” Kazuichi called behind him. Fuyuhiko didn’t look back.

“Hajime!” Fuyuhiko yelled when he was still more than six aisles away from the startled man. “You’re swapping with me!” He lowered his voice when he reached Hajime’s seat, but only marginally. “I can’t handle this. I don’t know how you expected Komeada to react to this shit, but whatever you thought, it’s worse. Way fucking worse. And I can’t help him. So go fucking do it yourself.”

“Well, I was going to swap as soon as the seatbelt signs were off,” Hajime said pointedly.

“I don’t give a shit. Look at my arm! Your fucking boyfriend nearly ripped it off at the elbow.” Fuyuhiko brandished his scratched, bloodied arm, and Hajime looked genuinely shocked.

“Oh my God…” He stood up hastily, clinging to the seats in front as the plane was still slightly off-balance. “I’m sorry, Fuyuhiko. I didn’t expect him to panic so much. He never said anything much about it when I asked.”

“Yeah, well, no offence, Hajime, but you can be as thick as three short planks sometimes. So if he implied anything, I don’t doubt you missed it,” Fuyuhiko snapped, taking Hajime’s empty seat - next to Chiaki, thank goodness. She hadn’t even looked up from her Switch this whole time. Perfect.

“I have taken some offence…” Hajime mumbled, then turned to go back down the aisle, trying hard not to catch the eyes of the other passengers staring like they were all part of a circus act. He was pretty sure the whole class was going to get banned from this airline. Gundham had been in trouble already for taking his hamsters out of their little travelling cage - several times. He was insulted by the insistence of the staff that all pets had to be contained, both by their labelling of his hamsters as mere pets and from their implication that his dark devas could ever be contained.

Hajime followed the sounds of more disgruntled passengers to Nagito’s seat. He was in the middle now, hunched over one of those white sick bags, while Kazuichi awkwardly patted his back. He looked relieved to see Hajime, beckoning frantically. “Come help me! I think he’s gonna spew. Weird that it’s not me for once.”

Hajime sighed, struggling to shuffle past his friends to get to Nagito’s other side, squashed by the window. Nagito didn’t acknowledge him. Hajime could see he had his eyes closed, his face strangely calm and smooth, though his breathing was erratic.

“Hey, Nagito? You hearing me?” Hajime called, tapping the other man’s pale cheek.

“Did I drive Fuyuhiko away?” Nagito said, voice strained. “I’m not surprised. To bother the Ultimates with the problems of an insignificant nobody like me.”

“Dude, shut up,” Kazuichi groaned. “Nobody thinks that. Stop being so weird. Fuyuhiko just doesn’t know how to look after people.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up? I doubt you’ll throw up, you wouldn’t eat anything this morning,” Hajime said.

At that exact moment, almost as if to pointedly prove him wrong, Nagito made a choked retching sound and ducked his head down further, cringing.

“Oookay. Or not. Um. You’re okay,” Hajime muttered, placing a wary hand on Nagito’s hair to keep it out of the way. It was strange hair; soft yet thick at the same time, and it poofed up determinedly no matter how many times Ibuki tried him out with different hairstyles.

The seatbelt signs were now off, so Kazuichi stood up hastily, trying to shield Nagito from the people hurrying up the aisle to the bathrooms. Hajime was grateful, but part of him wished he could switch places with Souda. He didn’t think he’d be having to coach Nagito through something so strangely intimate so soon into their… relationship? They’d never come out and actually said they were boyfriends, not even to each other, but their classmates seemed to think they were a couple.

As Nagito really hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, the actual vomiting didn’t last too long, but the dry heaving continued for several agonising minutes, and the nausea remained indefinitely. But Nagito felt safe to lift him head, his pale cheeks dusted with pink. He smiled shakily at Hajime. “How embarrassing. I caused a scene in front of all these people. You must be lamenting the day you set eyes on me.”

“Stop,” Hajime sighed, taking the soiled bag and handing it to Kazuichi.

“Hajime!” Souda squealed, hastily handing it off to a flight attendant, who offered a bottle of water for Nagito in response. Her smile didn’t slip once. Hajime was impressed by her poker face.

“Drink,” Hajime prompted, forcing the bottle into Nagito’s hands. “I want you to try eating something later too. You’re going to pass out.”

Kazuichi sat down again, glancing at Nagito. “You feeling… okay now? Like as okay as you can?”

Nagito took a long drink of water, eyes blank. Then he smiled again, that strange, forced smile. “I really am pathetic, aren’t I? Causing such a dramatic spectacle over something that happened years ago. I don’t deserve such attention from the Ultim-“

“Stop!” Hajime took Nagito’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. Hajime thought he saw something flicker in them, some semblance of an honest emotion. “Nagito, can you please stop trying to act like you don’t have feelings. I know you’re scared. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s completely fucking normal to feel like this right now. I shouldn’t have left you. That was me being dense, and I’m sorry. But you can stop pretending. It’s just me here - and Kazuichi, but he’ll understand too. He’s scared of everything.”

“I am not!” Kazuichi cried, outraged.

Hajime didn’t break eye contact with Nagito, both breathing heavily. Nagito glared back at first, his face twisting into a scowl, but Hajime didn’t falter.

“Let me in,” Hajime muttered. “I know you, for God’s sake. You’re not gonna scare me off. It’s okay to need help. Please.”

Another silence for several long, tense seconds. Then - finally, amazingly - Nagito made a soft frustrated noise, lunged forwards and wound his arms around Hajime’s neck so tightly that for a second Hajime thought he’d messed up so badly Nagito was trying to throttle him.

“Hey, careful,” Hajime said, but his voice was gentle and he didn’t try to pry Nagito off. Nagito let his forehead rest on Hajime’s shoulder, his hair falling to shield his face completely. Hajime snaked his own arms awkwardly around Nagito’s slender waist. He could feel Nagito shaking, feel the warm puff of his breathing against his shoulder. The shaking never eased, but as time passed the breathing seemed to calm slightly.

Nagito didn’t speak as he clung to Hajime for dear life. Not a single word. But Hajime hadn’t really expected him to. This was already a degree of vulnerability that Nagito was completely unaccustomed to showing anyone, let alone his almost-boyfriend, his classmates and an entire plane full of strangers. It was a good place to start.

Kazuichi watched them slightly bitterly. “It’s alright for some. I wouldn’t mind someone to cuddle up to,” he muttered.

“That’s your other talent. Ultimate Third Wheel,” Hajime quipped.

Their row of seats was reasonably peaceful after that, though Hajime could hear the laughter and yelling from their classmates further back. He hoped the sensible members of the group could stop them causing too much trouble. Hajime couldn’t go tell them to knock it off himself; whenever he moved at all Nagito would tighten his grip.

He sat there, hour after hour, until he had to pry Nagito off him for a bathroom break. It wasn’t easy. Nagito fought him and clung on as much as he could, though Hajime explained he’d be back in five minutes.

“Look, cling onto Kazuichi while I go pee,” Hajime suggested. Kazuichi didn’t look overly enthusiastic about that idea, but he didn’t protest.

Nagito sighed. He slowly drew back his arms, and whispered three breathy little words into Hajime’s shirt before he went, perhaps the most raw, vulnerable words Hajime had ever heard Nagito say: “Please come back.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

Nagito shifted shakily in his seat, turned to Kazuichi and lunged at him too, wrapping his arms around his neck. Kazuichi squealed and whined that he was being strangled, but he didn’t shove Nagito away. Hajime almost felt like they were new parents, passing their newborn between them: “I’ll hold him for a bit, you go to the loo.”

There was a queue for the tiny airplane bathrooms. Hajime stood impatiently, wriggling his cramped shoulders and rocking back on his heels; he was glad Nagito seemed to be trusting him more, but he was pretty stiff after sitting in the same position for hours.

Two women ahead of Hajime in the queue seemed to be having an animated discussion about something, and when Hajime caught the word “school” he started to listen properly.

“I don’t know what sort of school they come from, but they’re a strange bunch,” one lady hissed. “There’s an odd boy in the row ahead of me, one of that lot, who has a collections of rodents, all free from their cage! Running all over the seat trays! Well, that’s not very hygienic, is it? But when I told him as much, he gave me the most incredibly rude answer.”

“Young people have such foul mouths these days,” the other lady agreed.

“No, he wasn’t swearing. It was ever so strange, almost as if he was… well, you’ll think I sound silly. But it was like he was cursing me.”

It was a good job for Hajime that the toilet became available and the lady rushed inside, because he was biting his cheeks to contain his laughter. When he’d used the loo himself and gone back to release Kazuichi from Nagito’s vice grip, he recited the story for both of them.

Kazuichi laughed, poking Nagito gently. “There you are, Nagito. No need to worry. No matter how weird we are, we can always count on Gundham to be weirder.”

Nagito didn’t respond, but Hajime saw a hint of a smile - a real smile - on his lips before he buried his face in Hajime’s neck again.