#very very few people continue making a fuss about you being in the wrong bathroom if you say “I need to PEEEEEE�� and keep walking

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

I just realized I don't want gender neutral bathrooms and changing rooms just for gender reasons. I don't even want them just for practicality reasons, or just for economic reasons.

I want gender neutral hygiene spaces because, in my experience*, women who are bursting to get out of a sports bra and/or pee are wont to say unkind things and excuse it as "between us girls", and men do not wash properly if they think the bro code protects them.

[triplexdoublex]

Guys at 2 she had her oldest son full on wearing dresses and as soon as she saw he liked them she bought a bunch of books talking about why it’s ok for a boy to dress like a girl. I have nothing against trans people at all but at 2 a child can barly say thier ABCs let alone decide that they want to wear dresses all the time unless someone is pointing them in that direction and in fact a lot of lil boys did play with barbies and try on dresses and stuff but it’s bc they see the other girl kids or thier friends doing it so they want to see wat the fuss is all about just like a lot of lil girls go through fazes where they like lil boy cloths, or trucks, or playing dirty, it’s fazes give it a few months or a yr and most kids grow out of it yet Megan had a bunch of dresses sitting around her house for him to play with and was fully prepared to buy him all kinds of books explaining why it’s ok to dress as a girl and continued to dress him like that (there’s a pic of her oldest in a princess dress when he looked like he could barly walk) and she did all of this …… at 2 And then did the same for the next 2. And then Sharna comes into the picture and all of a sudden her 2 youngest started dressing more like lil boys.

Ok here’s my take on that … I like to believe she was was just a mother trying to be supportive and doing her best to make sure her child knows he’s is loved no matter what. I stated reading LGBT+ books to my daughter very young as well because I think it’s important to let kids ( yes even as young as 2) to know it’s okay and completely normal before society has the chance to tell them otherwise, especially with the lack of representation in kids shows, movies ,media. Teaching or exposing kids to that isn’t “sexual or about sexuality” it’s as simple as them just seeing a picture book or say a boy wearing at a dress or a picture of a child with two moms ect . It makes it’s natural , so their brain doesn’t flag it as odd , when they see it irl one day and you don’t have your kid yelling “mom why’s that man wearing a dress ?!” in the middle of Target. Instead their brain just sees it as something they’ve seen before and it’s normal and they move on because it’s natural. I tried to do this with eveything when my daughter was young . We read books about other religions ( even though I’m atheist) and their different head coverings. We live across from a convent and had a “mom why is her dressed like a penguin?” incident when a Nun walked by when she was a baby , if she had seen or been exposed to nuns prior it would have been natural to her and the wouldn’t be a need to question it, so I turned it i to a teachable moment and made sure we got some kids books about different religious head covering and even printed out a simple picture matching game of pairs of various head coverings .Another great example is potty training… we as people fear what we do not know and are not fond of change , so of course when a child’s only known to use the bathroom in their diaper they might be afraid of the toilet when the start potty training or refuse to use it ect only prolonging the process… I did elimination communication with my daughter and started putting her little potty when she was only a few months old , by 17 months she was completely potty trained day and night , no awkward transition stage of refusing or being afraid , it was always natural to her. This isn’t me bragging about my parenting , I’m just trying to explain the earlier children are exposed to certain things the more natural and accepting they are to it. There’s nothing wrong with it as long as it’s of course appropriate. As for Megan’s other 2 sons I think maybe they just wanted to be like their brother , and now that’d they’re getting older they’re growing into their own. As much as I don’t like her, I don’t believe she was in any way forcing them to “dress like girls” but I’m sure she probably enjoyed the attention and controversy caused by it.

[rezzyromance]

can i request a heisenburg x reader where they take a shower together and it starts getting freaky B) idk if im aloud to add kinks but maybe praise :D

This one was written from the heart.

(CW: Sex +18)

Once again, I've written this story with a gender neutral reader until it gets to the sexual part. I am not experienced in writing any sexual scenarios for gender neutral people or people with penises. I'm very sorry for this and hope you enjoy the story anyway. "I'm not going to ask again, Karl. Will you please take a shower?" You've been pushing Karl for the last 30 minutes to take a shower. It had been so long since he took a break from his work to actually take care of himself. It worried you, so you'd often try to take care of him here and there without getting on his nerves. But now, he's being relentless and stubborn. "For the last time, (Y/N) I don't have time to shower." His tone was aggressive as he refused to look away from his work to face you. "When's the last time you change your clothes? You sweat so much during some of the shit you do to these robots, or whatever they are." "It'll all just get dirty again, so what's the point of cleaning anything?" His gross words made you shiver. You loved him, but the man had nearly no concept of personal hygiene sometimes. A small part of him did care a little bit. He didn't want you to see him as gross. He's never had someone who he's felt the need to impress or look good for until you came along. But still, his work mattered so much to him that he casted hygiene to the side more often than you'd both like to admit. "What if I joined you?" You ask. He froze in his place, nearly choking on his own tongue. But he was quick to regain his composure. He looked over at you from the chair he was sitting in. You couldn't tell due to him wearing his sunglasses, but his eyes were scanning every little detail of your face. "Well?" You cross your arms and stare at him waiting for a response. He inhaled through his nose and tried to cover his excitement with a false sense of aggravation. "Fine. As long as it gets you to shut up." He rises from his chair and you can't help but smile knowing you won the argument. "Leave your coat, hat, and gloves here. We'll clean those later." "Yeah yeah whatever." You excitedly make your way to the bathroom. You set the shower temperature to a comfortable level of heat. The room began to fill with steam. Karl stood against the wall with his arms crossed, still wanting to seem reluctant even though he already agreed to the shower. "Alright. Water's ready. Now strip." You demand with a cheeky smile. "You first." "Sorry, can't do that. I wanna make sure you actually get in the shower before I do so you can't run." This makes him roll his eyes. But, once he's done pouting he begins to remove his shirt. You do the same, hoping it will coax him into continuing. Once his shirt is off he throws it to the side and smiles once he notices you stripping as well. It doesn't take long for you both to be completely unclothed.

He pulls back the shower curtain and steps inside. "Ah! Son of a bitch! Why's the water so hot?!" he yells out and begins to twist the metal shower knobs with his powers. "I didn't make it THAT hot." You step inside and feel a shiver crawl up your skin. "Now it's too cold." You complain. "You are not making this easy, are you?" He turns the knob to warmer. As uncomfortable as it was for him before, he didn't want to hear you fuss more than you already were. "That's better." You smile and relax as the water covers your body.

You stood there for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the heat around you. For a second, you zoned out. The whole time he stood there staring at you. Seeing you so happy and at peace made his insides start to feel as hot as the water that bounced and ran down his skin. All of his own discomfort fled as he watching, lovingly, at the smile growing on your face. Your eyes began to flutter open and he quickly looked away, not wanting it to be obvious that he was staring. But, you could tell from his flushed face and wandering eyes that he had been watching you.

You had placed 2 wash clothes on the side of the tub. You bent over to grab them and again he can't help but stare. This time, his feelings are a little less innocent as he gazes upon your body in a position that drives his mind wild. "Here's a wash cloth." You rise up and turn to hand him one. His body was closer to yours than it was just a few seconds ago, but you didn't mind. "Thanks." His voice was rough and low, almost as if he spoke in a growl. You supply both rags with soap and begin to rub down your body as he does the same.

You sit back for a moment, not really putting in much effort into cleansing yourself as you were too distracted by the sight in front of you. The way his silver hair stretched and clung to his face as the water weighed it down drove you mad. The way the water trickles off his muscular arms and powerful body absolutely hypnotized you. "Having fun there, (Y/N)?" You look up from his chest to his eyes. "Sure am. And you?" You use the cloth that you were previously bathing yourself with and begin to rub across his chest. "I'm fine, but I can bathe myself." He jokes. "Are you sure about that? It looks like you missed a spot." You point to a random area on his chest. "What? Where?" He looks down to where you were pointing and you take the opportunity to place an unexpected kiss on his lips. The initial shock causes him to almost pull away at first, but he soon pushes into the kiss, making it more passionate.

Your back was now pushed against the wall as you both continued your heated kiss. He was first to slip in tongue and you followed, ignoring any drool that leaked from your mouth as it only blended in with the shower water. His hands were gripped tightly to your hips. He begins to bring his body closer to yours. You can feel something poking you before the rest of his body makes contact which causes you to smile against his lips.

You place a hand on his wet chest and slowly make your way lower and lower until you can feel the light scratchiness of his pubes. he nibbles lightly on your bottom lip, signaling for you to go even further. You follow through and reach down you grasp his hardened penis. He inhales sharply and you begin to rub it back and forth, teasing him with your soft touches. He grunted quietly and tightened his grip on your hips, digging his fingers in slightly. You whimper and wrap your fingers around his cock as you begin to jerk him off. "Fuck yeah. Just like that." He groans in your ear before placing scattered kisses on your neck. You use your free hand to reach up and tangle your fingers in his wet locks. He begins to bite down on the more tender spots on your soft neck, leaving marks all over.

After more and more stroking, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his crotch. "Do you want me?" He says in a husky voice directly into your ear. "Mhm." You try to not moan as you feel his hand rub down your stomach and making its way in between your legs. "Say it. Say you want me." He demands. "I want you." You gasp lightly as his fingers begin to play with you between your legs. Your knees come together and he uses one of his hands to move them apart. You wrap your arms around his neck, using him as support as your legs shake beneath you. His rough and calloused fingers toy with your clit, causing you to dig your nails into his back. This causes him to inhale through his gritted teeth, but he didn't mind.

After almost rubbing you to completion, he pulls away to torment you some more. You let out a dissatisfied groan as his hand pulls away. His smirk was as egotistical as ever. "What's wrong? You want a little more?" He places his hands on the wall with your body in-between them. He slowly began to bring his body closer to yours, trapping you against the wall. His hard dick was between your legs and resting eagerly against your pussy. He slowly rocked his body, moving his dick across your needy region. He stared into your eyes and watched the agitation grow stronger. "Having any regrets about this yet?" He holds in a chuckle. "No. But if you don't fuck me stupid then I might." "Is that an invitation?" He leans in more and places a hand on the side of your face, cupping it while his thumb played with your bottom lip. You open your mouth and lead the tip of his thumb in before slowly biting now. You didn't bite hard at all, just enough to make him pull his dick away from you and begin to position it for entry. "I'll take that as a yes, Buttercup."

With his thumb still in your mouth, he pushes the first few inches of his dick in. Your breath hitches and you accidentally bite down harder. "Bite any harder and I'll leave right now." He threatens. You immediately loosen your jaw and begin to suck lightly as he pushes more of himself into you. You moan and he pulls his thumb out but continues to hold your face in his hand as he slowly rocks his hips, giving you a little time to adjust. But, it was only a little bit of time. Once your body loosened a little bit he began to thrust. in and out, holding into your waist to keep you from slipping. The sound of wet skin slapping filled the room along with overwhelmed moans that you couldn't keep quiet.

A few grunts left his gritted teeth as he pounded into you relentlessly. "C'mere" He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the wall and turned you so your back is facing him. He bends you over and places one of his hands underneath your stomach to provide you for support. You felt as his tip wandered around in between your legs before finding your vagina again. Once he filled you up with his dick again, he began to pound into you even harder. Both of his hands gripped tightly on each side of your waist as he pulled your entire body into him with each pound.

You felt like you could feel it in your stomach. His dick was harder than ever and you swore you could feel it throbbing and twitching inside of you. Your vision was blurred from the sheer amount of overwhelming pleasure so you closed your eyes. Your moans had become quiet little whimpers that were pushed out of you with each thrust. You feel his hand make its way through your hair as he grips a handful of it and pulls your head back slightly. "Fuck yes (Y/N).." He moans as your body limply swings against his pounding. You could feel a burning feeling growing between your legs. Your climax was near and you wanted so badly to finish. He could tell by the way your legs were trembling that you were close.

He reaches one of his hands between your legs and feels for the clit as he continued to slam into you. A loud moan escaping from your lips helped him navigate to eventually finding your sweet spot. So now he was drilling into you while also destroying your clit. You shut your eyes tight and let loose all of the swears, grunts, and moans you were holding back. His climax was approaching as well. You could hear him grunting and swearing louder and louder, occasionally saying your name. "Karl! Karl I'm gonna cum!" You cry out. He doesn't change his pace until he feels you release onto him. Your body goes completely limp as your vagina floods with your orgasm. You couldn't feel your body and your brain felt foggy.

He still had an orgasm to reach, though. So, he pulled out and made sure to keep a tight grip on you to make sure you don't collapse. You followed the motion of his movements as he turned you around and put his lips to yours as he stroked his cock. The kiss was messy, but loving. He stopped jerking himself off and grabbed you by the waist again. "Wrap your legs around me." He says. You nod, too dazed to give a verbal response. He lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. You also wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head against him as he sticks his dick in you again. You give no protest and close your eyes as he pounds in and out into your comfortable body that engulfed him. While you were quiet, he could still hear you moaning under your breath. He bounced your body up and down, kissing you over and over again. Once he knew his orgasm was rising, he pulled you off and came, letting it drip down his shaft and onto the wet shower floor. You were both breathless but gained a sense of comfort from feeling each others chests rise and fall.

"So," He spoke in between small gasps. "I might need to shower with you more often." You laughed softly into his shoulder, too tired to give any real reaction. He twisted the knob to the shower off with his powers. His hands never left your body as he held you against him. "Here. Sit." He sits you down on the side of the tub and grabs a towel. He softly began to rub your wet hair, attempting to dry it while you rested. You stared into his eyes as he did so. They had their usual sharpness to them, but something about him in this moment was so much more tender than his usual self. You didn't complain though. When he was done, you took the towel from him and returned the favor by drying his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed against your gentle touch. Once you finished, you placed a kiss on his nose that immediately created a smile on his face.

"How about we go relax a little more before I get back to work." He offers. "I'd like that." You respond quietly. He wraps a towel around his waist and then wraps a towel around you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you back to the bedroom. There, you both curled up against each other and fell asleep.

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Seven Demon Lords’ Pet Human

So I’m quite fond of the idea that the lesser demons see MC as the brothers’ dumb pet human up until MC is revealed to be a five star badass who can control the brothers on a whim. But Himiko isn’t okay with being referred to as anyone’s “pet”, and after a very bad day, she’s going to let the brothers know that.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Genre: Half Crack Half Fluff

Warning: This story features my MC, who uses she/her pronouns, if that makes you uncomfortable no harm no foul, see you next time

“Just their pet human,”

“Aw, they let their cute widdle pet walk around all by herself~.”

“The brothers’ new pet looks so delicious…”

Himiko Nanami was not one for demeaning nicknames. She had told Luke over and over again that the reason people kept calling him a chihuahua was because he gave them a reaction, but she just couldn’t follow her own advice. A pet… the brothers’ pet… what complete and utter shit.

She had forged pacts with the seven lords of Hell. She had escaped death more times than she could count. On her first day at RAD, she had gouged out a demon’s eye with her headband for trying to eat her. She had walked Cerberus and survived. Himiko was no dainty little pet.

It was a tragedy that some of the demons that wandered the halls of RAD couldn’t see that. Not all the demons were irredeemable anti-human trash, some were quite sweet. But it only took one weird squishy grape to make Himiko refuse to eat the rest of the bowl. That’s how that saying goes, right?

It was supposed to be a good day, it was a Friday for Christ’s sake! But no, the world at large was conspiring to make Himiko’s forehead vein burst.

First period with Satan went normally for the most part, until the two paired up for an assignment and Himiko decided to give Satan a few pats on the head. A few snickers coming from a few rows behind her drew her attention, and right after Satan left to use the bathroom, that’s when she heard it. The first comment of the day.

“Aww, a pet petting her master, how sweet.”

When Satan returned, Himiko was holding a broken pencil.

To her credit, she didn’t dignify those idiots with a response, but their comment managed to burrow its way into her brain and settle there right when she snapped the pencil.

Second period shouldn’t have been so shitty, Himiko had friends in that class. Friends other than the brothers and the other exchange students, but no. Everything sucks in the Devildom.

Paimon had so sweetly offered to share some of his chips with her when he heard she had skipped breakfast. Himiko was in the middle of happily chowing down when some asshole decided to ruin the cute friendship moment.

“Geez Pai, I thought you’d be more responsible than that~.” A demoness a few rows ahead cooed. “Feeding other people’s pets without asking~.”

Paimon choked on the chip he was chewing on while Himiko gave the demoness a bone chilling glare.

“Sh-she’s not- I’m not-”

“How about you mind your own fucking business?”

The demoness only rolled her eyes and turned back to giggling with her friends. It was truly a shame that at least 60% of all the demon ladies in the school were incredibly mean and/or homicidal, a shame for Himiko because she’s a raging bisexual.

With her appetite lost, Himiko forfeited the rest of the chips to Paimon.

Lunch went by as normal as it could have gone. She sat with the brothers as usual and happily watched their antics. When she left the table to throw her trash away was when all hell broke loose.

“-Pet,”

“-Pet…”

“-Pet.”

“-Pet!”

All those damned whispers reached Himiko’s ears and if she had any less patience she would have pulled her hair out and screamed. When she got back to the table, she spent the rest of her lunch period in silence.

What’s worse was that her next class was with Solomon, and the only seat available was next to him. Great…

“Grouchy today, ms. Nanami?”

“Annoying today, mr. Wizard?”

Solomon let out a quiet and carefree laugh and rested his head on his hand. “Oh Himiko, you know I’m always up for being a little annoying.”

Himiko rolled her eyes and tried to pay attention to the teacher. “Whatever…”

Class went on, but Solomon didn’t let up on his quiet pestering.

“Himiiiiii, tell me what’s wrong, I won’t laugh.”

“Go to hell.”

“Poor choice of words, you’re there with me.”

“I hate you.”

“So mean, I’m just trying to help. Solomon the Wise is known for giving great advice!”

Himiko turned and looked at the immortal sorcerer next to her and saw his pitiful attempt at what looked like puppy dog eyes. She rolled her eyes again and turned back to her work.

“I thought you were known for ordering a baby to be sawed in half.”

“Hey!” Solomon huffed, crossing his arms. “The baby did not get sawed in half. The saner of the two women got to keep the baby, I was being smart.”

“Sure, sure.” Himiko couldn’t hold back a bit of a smile. To her own surprise, Himiko began to weigh the pros and cons of actually telling Solomon what was going on. Hm, on one hand, Solomon was the only other human that might possibly understand what Himiko was dealing with, on the other hand, Solomon was a known shifty bastard and could barely be counted as human at this point. In the end, human solidarity won out.

“Solomon,” Himiko began. “Have you ever gotten called a pet before? Like a demon’s pet..?”

Solomon thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Probably. I’ve been alive too long not to have been called every name under the sometimes lack of sun, but I’ve always been more widely known as someone who makes demons into his pets.”

“Mmm, sure.”

“But fret not Himiko, those closest to you know the truth. You’re no pet.”

Not exactly the heaps of comfort Himiko wanted, but at least Solomon answered truthfully and didn’t say anything that would get on her nerves-

“I don’t know why you’re so upset about that nickname though, you’d look amazing in a collar.”

For what happened to poor Solomon right after he said that, let’s just say a palm reader could read Himiko’s future off Solomon’s face.

In fourth period, Himiko had to hold herself back from bitchslapping someone else who decided it would be a good idea to test her. A quick word of advice to anyone in the Devildom who would like to survive an encounter with Himiko, never, ever, fuck with her headband.

“You fiendish demon!” Luke yapped, trying to help get Himiko’s headband back from the nasty awful no good demon who decided to pluck it off her head and hold it out of reach. “Give that back!”

“N’awwwwww, pet buddies!” The taller demon laughed and dangled the headband a little closer. “So cute! Someone get a picture for Devilgram-”

Luke slammed his foot directly into the demon’s kneecap. The demon practically shrieked and doubled over only to be met with Himiko’s knee in his gut. She daintily plucked the headband from his grasp and quickly pulled Luke out of the room.

“Are you okay?” The moment the two were far enough down the hall, Luke began to fuss over Himiko like a tiny nurse. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No buddy, I’m fine.” Himiko held out her hand for a high five. “Up high,”

Whack!

“Down low,”

Woosh!

“Too slow.”

“Hey!” Luke whined. “No faaaaaiiiiir!”

———————

No one wants their human to be grumpy, especially not the brothers, so when Himiko spent the rest of the time until dinner holed up in her room, they were a tad concerned.

“My human’s all saaaaaaaaad,” Mammon rested his chin on the table and whined. The rest of the brothers sans Asmo were sitting at the table awaiting dinner. “Himiko said she didn’t wanna play the Game of Life, and it’s like, the one game she’s good at…”

“Yeah, she’s been pissy all day.” Belphie added before quietly yawning. “What’d you do, Mammon?”

“Me?!” Mammon sputtered, practically scrambling out of his seat and pointing an accusatory finger at his brothers. “I didn’t do shit! What about you idiots?!”

“Well, let’s look at what we know,” Satan said, waving off Mammon. “During first period we partnered up for a project, I left to use the restroom, then when I came back she looked upset. During lunch when she left, she came back and didn’t speak the rest of the lunch period. Any theories?”

Beel raised his hand, and Satan nodded to him. “Himiko has terrible separation anxiety now, she can’t go too long without us.”

Satan gave Beel a few nods, then turned to the others. “That’s one guess. Anyone else?”

Mammon raised his hand, and Satan promptly ignored him.

“Oi! Pay attention to me!” Mammon stuck his hand in the air and waved harder. “She’s angry because she’s failin’ a class! Every time we’re not distractin’ her, she remembers!”

“I would have heard if she was failing a class.” Lucifer finally piped up from the head of the table, his face was buried in RAD’s newspaper. “You on the other hand, Mammon, are failing three of your four classes this semester.”

Mammon slid back into his seat and scratched the back of his neck. “About thaaaaaat, I need money for uh… for new books n’ pencils n’ shit. That’s why I’m failin’, you’ll lend me money, won’t ya big bro?”

Lucifer didn’t get to respond as Asmo burst into the door of the dining room with a pot of pasta that was almost half his height. “DINNER IS SERVED~!”

As everyone settled in to eat, Himiko finally made her appearance and plopped herself down in her usual seat next to Mammon and helped herself to the pasta with rosé sauce.

“It’s good! It’s good right?” Asmo peppered the group with questions about the food and how good he did. Himiko had to admit, this was damn good pasta. Smooth, creamy, cheesy, all that was missing was garlic bread. In a matter of minutes Himiko had cleared her first bowl and was going in for seconds.

“So Himiko,” Satan said as Himiko continued to shovel pasta into her face at a pace that could rival Beel. “We’ve noticed you’ve been looking a little upset today, care to satiate our curiosity?”

Himiko paused mid bite, which wasn’t doing wonders for her appearance considering she had sauce on the tip of her nose. But still, how sweet of her boys to notice, it made her cold dead little heart swell with love.

“Oh you know, just idiots at school not worth my attention.”

“What have they been saying?” Asmo asked, his voice unusually stiff.

“They’ve been calling me you guys’ pet.” Himiko grumbled. “How ridiculous is that?”

The clattering of forks and the chewing of food halted as the boys went completely silent. Himiko shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she looked around. Had what those demons said been a greater insult to the boys than she-

“Pfff- HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Mammon erupted into laughter and the rest of the brothers followed suit.

“G-Geez,” Belphie snickered, feigning wiping a tear from his eye. “Humans are so sensitive.”

“Excuse me?!” Himiko gripped her fork so hard she was sure it would leave indents.

“I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, Himi,” Levi said between bouts of cackling. “But you are a teeny tiny little normie human surrounded by well… us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?! That I should just roll over and take it!?” Himiko immediately turned and pointed at Belphie. “Don’t you dare.”

Belphie’s mouth was open to make a comment about Himiko’s poor choice of words, but the pact activated and any words died in his throat. Belphie flipped her off and Himiko returned the gesture.

“Himiko,” Beel was sweet enough to not laugh at Himiko’s predicament. “It’s not that big of a deal. Besides, people love their pets.”

As sweet as Beel thought his words were being, Himiko really wanted to send him to bed without dinner.

“Yes, yes, Beel’s right.” Satan took a deep breath and collected himself after his laughing fit had finally ceased. “It’s nothing to worry about, Himiko. It shouldn’t be bothering you. Just don’t listen.”

Himiko somehow gripped her fork even tighter as she levelled her ice cold glare at Satan. “Thank you so much for demonsplaining how I should deal with and feel about the very human problem of people seeing me as some toy.”

The venom in her words seemed to snap the rest of the table out of their giggly stupor, and Mammon gave Himiko a few pats on the back.

“Ah don’t worry about it, Himiko. I’ll fight any bastard who says anythin’ like that.” Suddenly realizing he hadn’t been a tsundere for five whole minutes, Mammon went red and snatched his hand away. “Ya know, just because you’d probably use the pact and order me to anyway…”

“I’m not a dere~” Levi began to softly sing, Himiko perked up and grabbed Mammon’s cheek.

“A tsun-tsundere~”

“Not that song again!”

That should have been the end of that whole debacle. Himiko’s decent mood had been restored and all was well! The gang chatted amicably for the rest of dinner. Himiko made sure to heap loads of praise on Asmo for his amazing pasta. She felt a part of her die when she went in for fourths and the spoon scraped the bottom of the pot.

Too bad nothing ever goes smoothly in the Devildom.

Since it was Asmo’s night to cook, it was Himiko’s night to do dishes, so she got up and began to clear the table. As she began to collect the unused knives, Lucifer, not looking up from his newspaper, handed Himiko his plate.

“Thank you, pet, that’ll be all.”

Himiko stopped dead in her tracks and her grip on the plate tightened. “Repeat that, Lucifer?”

“Thank you, pet, that’ll be all.”

A tiny smirk spread across Lucifer’s face, which only served to make Himiko’s blood boil. If he thought he could make a joke about that while she was still mad he had another thing coming.

As quick as a flash, she had whipped the plate straight at the ground, shattering it into dozens of tiny pieces, before Lucifer even had a chance to say anything, Himiko was standing in front of him with a frigid glare on her face.

“Lucifer, put your hand flat on the table and spread your fingers. Keep quiet.”

With no choice but to obey, Lucifer slapped his hand down on the dining table, though, the glare he was giving her wasn’t any less murderous. Not caring, Himiko’s gaze remained cold and calculating, she turned to the other brothers, who were rooted in place from sheer shock. “Stay.”

“I’d just like to get something out there to you seven,” Himiko said calmly, holding one of the knives in her right hand and waving it around like it was the most casual thing in the universe. “I, am no one’s pet,”

Himiko turned and slammed the knife right between Lucifer’s middle and index fingers, imbedding it deep in the table.

“Arm candy,”

The second knife was slammed right in between Lucifer’s middle and pointer finger.

“Or accessory.”

The final knife went between his index and pinkie finger. Himiko’s next words were slow and deliberate as she stared the strongest of the brothers directly in the eyes.

“I am your friend, and equal, I won’t accept being anything less, whether it’s a joke, or not. You agreed to those terms the day we made our pact, didn’t we Lucifer? Have you changed your mind?”

It was so quiet you could hear Henry 2.0 swimming around in Levi’s room upstairs. No one dared to breathe as the seconds ticked past.

Finally, Lucifer responded, his voice tinged with exasperation. “No Himiko, I haven’t.”

“Good,” A small triumphant smile appeared on Himiko’s face as she removed the knives from the table and finished up cleaning the table. “That goes for the rest of you boys too, got it?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Mhm.”

“Yes…”

As Himiko walked into the kitchen to do everyone’s dishes, they quietly reminded themselves exactly who they were dealing with. Himiko Nanami was no dainty little human, no no no, she was the one master to rule them all, and by god was she going to make sure no one ever forgot.

——————

AAAAAAAA THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE!!!! I really need to write more stuff with Himiko! Inspiration struck at like… 10 this morning and I just ran with it.

Now on one hand, I can see that people might think that Himiko overreacted to Lucifer’s little joke a tad. Buuuuuuuuuuut she’s gotta shut down that shit early, right? She doesn’t want “pet” to be the next “chihuahua”.

Lucifer’s probably trying to stick his nose back in his newspaper as he wonders whether he’s incredibly enraged or unbelievably turned on.

Hope you all enjoyed! Now back to the regularly scheduled shitposting.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Paradise Circus - Chapter Eighteen.

Big thanks to everyone who is continuing to read, reblog and comment! You make the time and effort very much worth it when I read your excitement over the story!

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,121

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. NO MINORS, PLEASE!

‘What in the hell is wrong with you, man? You have a girlfriend, who you love, and you’re lying here with a huge hard on next to your baby mama while she’s sleeping. Fucking calm down!’

His internal castigation should have worked in deflating the monster of erections he had, lying with his back to Darla, but sadly for Tommy, all he could think of was being inside her. Meadow kicking him endlessly was preferable, but he couldn’t very well go back and change his mind over that now.  

But oh, how he wanted her. He’d been fine of late, able to spend time with her and dampen his lust nicely enough to actually have a good relationship with her, but lying next to her in bed, his body betrayed his head. It remembered her, how good she made him feel, how torrid and heated their sex always was, how she was still the best lover he’d ever had.  

‘You love Cassie, you love Cassie, you love Cassie. Don't screw things up. Don’t do it!’

And the sex he shared with Cassie was great, hot as hell, everything that should have left him satisfied. But she wasn’t Darla. The connection wasn’t as magmatic, and that’s exactly what he craved as he lay there, his cock so hard he honestly considered jerking off quickly and quietly, just to relieve the tension flooding his own body, but he couldn’t. That would still be bad. Not as bad as pinning Darla down and nailing her into the mattress, but it was in the same ballpark.  

If only she knew, too, lying there, pretending to be asleep, hoping to hear Tommy’s snores filling the air so she could discreetly begin to rub at her aching clit, in order to relieve herself of her own pent-up frustrations that lying next to him had flooded her with. All she could think about was the satin steel of his cock gliding through her wetness, stretching her out, remembering the way he moaned when he was within her, how it felt to have his huge body between her legs, how his mouth felt as he ate her, sucked her nipples, delighted her body with the most thorough of attentions.  

‘Oh my god, this is fucking torture!’

Finally, she managed to fall asleep at around 2am, prickly with unsated lust, Tommy much the same. By morning, it had abated somewhat, Darla getting up earlier and leaving him to sleep, the sheet peeled back just enough for her to get a view of his perfect, chiselled body, a few more tattoos now present than when she’d last seen it, too.  

“So unfair.” she muttered, taking her things and going to get ready in the bathroom one floor down, the room they were staying in the attic conversion bedroom.  

After readying herself, she went downstairs, her dad already left for work two hours ago, her mom up, bustling around in the kitchen.

“You are not making me doughnuts!” she exclaimed in disbelief, watching her mother carefully spoon batter into the fryer.

“I am! You said you were craving them, so dig in! I’m making plenty, and there’s fresh banana bread also,” Nancy confirmed, loving having people in the house to cook for. With Ant not wanting kids, Gene too busy seeing multiple women and Luke always away, at her age she longed for a house full of grandchildren to fuss over now her kids were grown, so any opportunity she got to play mother hen, she took gladly.  

“That’s it, I’m moving home,” she joked, taking a seat at the island and picking up a doughnut, blowing on it gently as it was still pretty hot.  

“How’d you and Tommy sleep?”

“Fine, he’s still out,” she confirmed, having that notion contradicted when the man himself appeared in the doorway.  

“No, he isn’t. But the lie in was nice. Damn, you made doughnuts? Good job I made today my cheat day,” he spoke, Nancy offering him the plate. He took one, biting into it carefully.

“Good?” she asked. She had her answer when he gave her a kiss on the cheek, his lips all covered in sugar grains and cinnamon.  

“Amazing!” he confirmed after swallowing, taking a seat beside Darla.  

“So, what do you guys have planned for the day?” she asked, turning her attention back to the fryer to check the last batch. She wanted to make enough for Darla to take home with her, so had cooked a few dozen.  

“Visiting to the cemetery, going to take flowers to mom,” Tommy spoke, something he was glad to not be doing alone. Darla was going with him, which he thought had been a lovely pledge when she’d offered. “After that, I think we’re gonna take a drive around the old neighbourhood. She wants to visit your guys’ old street.”

Meadow wouldn’t be going with them, since she’d planned to go and spend the day with her mom and two sisters before arriving back later in the afternoon, the lady herself joining them for breakfast before the three went their separate ways, leaving Nancy to head to the market and go for coffee with a couple of her friends.  

“Aw, man, your headstone is a mess, ma,” Tommy spoke tenderly half an hour later, crouching at his mother’s grave and wiping away cobwebs with his hand. With his father dead and he and Brendan living five hours away, there were few left to tend to it, the dried up remains of whomever the last person was to bring her flowers all dead within the vase.

“Here, I have wipes,” Darla offered, digging the pack out from her bag. “Hey Annie, I miss you.” she then spoke tenderly as she crouched beside him, rubbing the marble fondly with the back of her fingers. Tommy had to hold onto the lump in his throat hard at that, such an innocuous little gesture, but so packed with honest emotion. Annie had adored Darla, and vice versa.  

“So, ma, look what I did.” he spoke once he was done cleaning, reaching to rest his hand at Darla’s bump. It made her chuckle warmly, his words adding to it. “I can’t help but think you’d be really happy about it all. You always loved Darla to death, but I bet you’d be nagging at me about marrying her or some shit. Just know that while we’re not about to do that, we’re both really happy. Wherever you are now, I hope you are, too. I just wish my boy got to meet his grandma, because you’d be the best. If things were different, huh?”

His voice broke a little, wiping tears from his eyes as Darla put her arm around him, offering comfort he sank against. Pulling him to his feet, she gave him a proper hug, kissing his cheek, holding him. He was so glad of her being there, finding solace in her arms when the sadness of the moment had gotten a little too much. It always did whenever he visited her grave, even though she’d have been gone for seventeen years in eight months' time.  

They stayed for a few more minutes before heading back to the car, Darla clasping his hand as they walked, Tommy letting go to wrap his arm around her instead, a move she reciprocated. Walking arm in arm, both felt it, a little flutter inside their chests.  

“Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it,” he told her, squeezing her waist with his fingers.

“Anytime, buddy.”

“It’s kinda acted as a nice counter balance for me, too. I’ll be fucking honest with you, Darla, this morning, I was raging horny and having you next to me was not helping matters whatsoever, so it’s put a much-needed dampener on me and my crazy hormones,” he confessed, making her snort with laughter.

“If we’re being honest, me too,” she revealed, stopping to turn towards him. “We’re not in that place any longer though, are we?”

He took a moment before he answered, both just looking at each other, her long eyelashes shading out the hazel fire of her eyes, eyes he knew he could live to be a hundred and never get tired of looking into. “Nope. We’re somewhere better though, right?”

“Right. You, me and him. Our slightly irregular little family.” She confirmed, looking down at her bump.  

After they’d left, they visited the old neighbourhood as requested, parking up outside her old house and sharing stories from times gone by, remembering the hammock that Nancy had hung in the backyard, a brand-new version of it between two trees in her new abode, one which Darla went to lie in after they’d arrived home, Tommy joining her at the opposing end, rubbing her tired feet as they discussed baby names some more, Nancy and Meadow sitting on the back porch, sharing a few glasses of wine.  

“Why, Meadow? Tell me what on earth is between them that’s so damn complicated that this beautiful picture of serenity can’t be what they are? I expected them to maybe a little distant with one another, after what Darla told me about them beefing all of the time, but would you look at that? They’re so sweet! Do we have to bang a couple of heads together? I’m game if you are!”  

Meadow nodded, sipping her chardonnay before placing the glass down, skimming the daisies that grew on the grass before her with her bare toes. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, you know. I got told by the wife in no uncertain terms to stay out of it, though.”

“Why, what are your thoughts?”

“That they fucking belong together, pardon the F.”

“Oh, honey. You’re thirty-one, you can swear now without me threatening you with a cup of soapy water!” Nancy laughed, giving her a little hug. “Has he said anything to you, or has my daughter?”

“Nah, not really, but sights like the one we’re witnessing right now speak for themselves,” she began, taking her cigarettes out and lighting one up. It still felt weird, to smoke around Nancy, even stranger still when the lady gestured to the pack.  

“I shouldn’t, Mike would kill me!” she cringed, taking a light.  

“Our little secret,” Meadow vowed with a wink.

“Mom! Are you smoking?” Darla called from the hammock, pushing herself up, exclaiming with a mock horrified gasp.

“It’s just one with a wine, calm down!” she called back, Darla aghast.

“And to think how crazy you went when you found the pack of smokes in Ant’s jacket that one time!”

“Oh, be quiet, smoking police!” she called back, making them laugh before Darla settled once more. “Now, you were saying?”  

“Yes, I was. I can’t speak for Darla, but my boy, I think he’s in denial about how he really feels, throwing himself into this relationship with Cassie - whom I do think he has a genuine affection for - but like I say, he’s frightened of wrecking what he and Darla now have by acting on his true feelings. They’d worked so hard not to quarrel over what have been quite silly differences, if you ask me, nothing that hasn’t been resolvable by communication that they now have, but one thing prevails in his mind above all else,” she explained, taking a long drag on her cigarette.

“He’s terrified of ending up like Paddy.”  

“Nailed it,” Meadow confirmed, sighing. “I’ve tried telling him otherwise, so has Brendan too, as I discovered when I ran into him recently and he took me for a beer, but it’s always gonna be there in the back of his mind, eating away at him. I mean, he likes a drink, that’s the Irish blood in him, but he’s not a crazy, raving alcoholic. Paddy used to terrify me when I was a kid. Tommy is much more like Annie than he realises.”

“Yes, he truly is. The way he cared for her in her last months, and only sixteen years old? He has a heart of gold, he truly does. I don’t know, Meadow. If they’re adamant that this is how they want to be, I suppose we have to let them get on with it and hope that one day, they might see things differently. The baby arriving might change it all, who knows, but for now, I think your wife is right. We need to keep it to ourselves.” Nancy observed, taking another drag on her cigarette. Oh, how she’d missed tobacco.  

They continued to chatter between themselves, Meadow taking her phone out to show off her wedding photographs at Nancy’s request, while Tommy and Darla remained gently swaying in the hammock, enjoying the last of the late summer sunshine. There was a definite chill in the air, signalling the arrival of autumn.

“Your feet fucking stink, you know.”

“How rude! I took a shower this morning!” Delilah cried, shoving him in the chest with her heel.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t have nacho foot right now, because you do!” He took a cautionary sniff, pulling a face. “Cheese!” he then exclaimed, Darla bursting into laughter, even if it was at her expense.  

“And yet you’re still rubbing them for me. Hmm, says more about you than it does me. You must have some kind of nacho foot fetish,” she observed, Tommy grinning lasciviously, further escalating her laughter.  

“Gotta keep the baby mama happy, even if it is at the expense of my sinuses.” Happy. Lying in that hammock with him, she realised that’s exactly what she was. Their vast differences in who they were as people just didn’t matter any longer, Darla smiling at him, wondering to herself if she was crazy for remaining so resolute that going forward, she would be satisfied with this being it for them. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just content.”  

“Makes a damn change,” he winked, once again receiving her heel in his pectoral. “Nah, we’ve done well, haven’t we? I’m proud of us. We got over the whole Ike and Tina thing nicely.” He then added, referencing the toxic, fiery couple she’d once jokingly likened them to.

“We certainly did.” Her confirmation made him smile warmly, stroking her ankle idly, looking out over the backyard, watching the bugs hovering over Nancy’s flowers, looking back at her again. “What, really? What’s with that face?”  

She felt the words bubbling up on her tongue, wanting to reveal it, tell him the simple truth. ‘You make me really happy.’ Five little words, the chance stolen from her though when his phone began to ring.  

“What’s up, baby?” he answered warmly. Cassie. And he looked so very happy to hear from her as well, his face lighting up. No. She couldn’t ruin it for him. He’d moved on, the place they were in was finally good. This time, she’d know better. “Yeah, yeah I’m great, just sitting in the hammock, with Darla inflicting her stinky feet on me.” She laughed softly, Tommy smiling. “She says hi.”

“Hey, Cassie! Looking forward to meeting you soon!” she called, feigning brightness, Tommy listening to his girlfriend before relaying her message.

“She said same to you, too.” Sitting up more, she swung her feet out, careful not to tip him out with her, Tommy resting a strong hand to her back to help as she climbed down to the floor, leaving him to it. Mike arrived home about an hour later, bringing with him a stack of foil trays from the restaurant containing dinner, slow cooked brisket, pork and chicken, seitan and tofu for Darla, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, mac and cheese and corn, everyone sitting at the island to eat.  

“Honest opinion, please, before I add it to the menu,” he asked his daughter, presenting her with a little tray of mac and vegan cheese he’d experimented with, not being swayed over whether it tasted particularly good. He was used to flavouring his famous macaroni with cheddar, Monterey Jack, gouda and parmesan. “I used nutritional yeast to make it cheesier, but I don’t know. Is it edible?”

He waited while his daughter took a mouthful, her wide eyes immediately telling him that yes, it most definitely was. “Oh, it’s so good! Yes, that’s a winner, get it on the menu!”  

“Let me try,” Tommy requested at her side, Darla piling up a forkful and feeding it to him.  

“That’s really good! It doesn’t have anything on your cheesy feet, though.” Mike burst out laughing at that.  

“Gorgonzola toes!” he joked, both men earning a dark look from her. Being foot shamed led to her going to take a bath after dinner, re-joining her family and friends to sit and spend the evening reminiscing of times gone by before she decided to call it a night at 11pm, noting how much more tired she was becoming, the further into her pregnancy she went. Tommy arrived next to her at just gone midnight, his weight dipping the mattress and stirring her from her half-asleep state.  

The truth was, she’d been dreaming, her mind consumed once more by hormonal lust. There was but one man who occupied them, Darla dreaming of being explored with ravenous hunger by the father of her baby, his arrival in the bed making her tingle.  

“Sorry for waking you,” he spoke quietly, reaching to rest his hand on her shoulder. She reached for the bedside lamp, turning it on before moving to face him.  

“It’s okay, I was only half asleep. Drifting in and out of dreams.”

“Oh yeah? Were they dirty ones?” he asked, grinning at her. She didn’t reply, hiding her face in the pillow with a groan. “What? Why you gone all shy? Were they about me or something?”

“Shut up.”

“Ahh, I take that as a yes. Am I as good in dreams as I am in life?” he then questioned playfully, reaching to tickle her neck.  

“Hmm.” She muttered, still hiding her face.  

“Am I?” He leaned in close, tickling her more, making her emerge.  

“Yes! Alright, yes! Stop embarrassing me!”  

With his hand remaining at her neck, his brain completely disengaged from anything that might have even bordered on sensible thinking. Any voice that might have piped up that what he was about to do was very wrong, considering he had a girlfriend, it was muffled by the sheer desire that ran rampant through his entire body. “That wasn’t my intention.”

Oh, the way he looked at her. It was in that look, in that moment, where she lost her head completely, their mouths pressing together, arms locking around one another. That was the thing about lust. Eventually, it would always burn away any barrier put up in attempt to keep it at bay.

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[fuck-customers]

Hello lovelies, been a while since I submitted. But this time I'm submitting on behalf of my friend. Let's call her Bev (not her real name obvi). Long post ahead, tl;Dr at bottom.

Bev used to work at my university's Filet of Chix. She became blue shirt in like two years. She was very good at managing and keeping the line going, which I even saw personally when I went in there some days. She ended up leaving due to a mix of medical concerns and high school level drama over the summer.

Around June of this year, she decided she was gonna find another job. She ended up applying and immediately getting hired on at a local ice cream store. She was excited. It paid 8.50 but with tips it could be up to $12 or $16 an hour - which is no problem during the summer as their tips jars are constantly overflowing. Bev was excited for the pay increase, seeing as how she was leaving a job that only paid her $10.05 an hour.

Bev starts, and her location is actually six buildings down from where I work. I go get her on my lunch breaks, take her to work, she rides home with someone else at the end of the night (cant drive due to her previously mentioned medical issues) It's a good arrangement. She gets along with her coworkers, her coworkers even start being buddy buddy with me.

Then the shit hits the fan maybe like. Three weeks into her starting. There is another girl who has been there for a while, let's name her Lee. When Bev was looking for a job and had inquired about the ice cream store hiring, Lee encouraged her as a) they desperately needed help and b) Lee bragged that she was able to afford tattoos with how much tip money they got. Bev even admitted that she may have had a slight crush on Lee forming (despite us having known her for five minutes, bless) so we figured she was chill.

Bev starts working and it's a few shifts before she finally works with Lee, who is considered a shift lead.  The more Bev works with Lee the more they start to rub each other the wrong way - Lee gets snappy and rude during rushes, starts to panic, Bev instinctively takes control to get people out the door. Lee apparently sees this as Bev trying to come in and take her position as shift lead - which Bev does not want as she just wants money to be able to buy groceries with. Lee starts to get short with Bev. Doesn't talk to her unless it's to tell her to go clean bathrooms or take out trash. Lee also likes to hide in the back on her phone, only stand at the register on her phone, or stand in the way of everyone trying to get ice cream scooped and all that IN FRONT OF GUESTS. She also makes openly crude sex jokes in front of kids, makes customers uncomfortable complaining about her own health issues, and even cussed out a customer for clarifying what flavor they wanted when someone ELSE was working on scooping the order.

"Wow Kyrie, that doesn't sound like very appropriate behavior for a shift lead at an ice cream store." You're right. Which is why Bev complained to the owner. Along side some other coworkers who are also fed up with Lee's behavior. Not to mention if you go on Doodle and look up this ice cream store there are reviews literally complaining about Lee's behavior, one star reviews. Supposedly there are also cameras in the store that record audio as well. Lee has apparently been coached and fussed at about her behavior before, even before Bev started working there.

The place is short staffed, so letting her go is a tough decision apparently. Lee is also the only one who can reliably go back and forth between this location and the one in a town 30 minutes away, supposedly. Lee tells me this when I come in to drop off Bev one day and I need ice cream as I can feel myself getting light headed from having not eaten. Lee is excitedly chatting with me, not even acknowledging Bev trying to clock in at the damn register but can't because Lee is blocking it.

Bev complains to the owners again. Owners tell her they will talk with Lee. This pattern of Lee being rough with Bev continues for a couple of weeks. Some days I go in after I get off work because I want the sugar, and Bev is working. I witness the behavior Bev has talked about - Lee hiding on her phone, Lee making tasteless jokes, one time Lee even came over to my table during a rush to complain about her hip while a large group of families were placing orders and everyone else was running around scooping ice cream and making cones and ringing them up - Bev included.

Even better: Bev's medical issues make it so sometimes she'll have minor seizures and needs to sit. Owners said they understood, there's a stool she can sit on to ring out customers, just bring in a doctor's note when she can. Bev is in the process of getting an official doctor's note when the owners decide to take away the stool and say that no one can sit because Lee will sit on it on her phone in front of customers. They also start to doubt Bev's claims about her medical issues when the doctors note doesn't come in after two weeks (her fucking doctor up and left the practice and the office staff didn't want to produce a note until they heard back from the doctor. Lovely!)

Junp forward to about a month and a half after Bev starts working there. Classes start back up so Bev only works weekends.

She goes onto the app they use to check schedules and sees that she's not even been rostered after her last shift. She mentions it to another shift lead she's on good terms with who says they will mention it to the owner.  Bev decides to just take the days off to catch up on school work.

The following week she can't even log onto the app. Says her credentials are invalid. She goes to change her password and it won't even let her do that as the app is saying she's not even in the system. Calls me up after I get off my job that day to talk about it - as she's going through other issues and this is the straw that broke the camels back. Why can't she even log in to see when she's working now? Is it because she's complained about Lee? When it has been presented that Lee is a problem in that workplace? She texts the shift lead she's on good terms with again, who says they'll ask the owner what's going on.

Today (Sept. 6th) Bev messages me. She had apparently submitted a request to officially rejoin the scheduling app and it was rejected by the owner of the store. Good shift lead knows nothing. A couple days ago I had gone into the store to get my parents some ice cream (their request) and Lee was still working there; her and the other employees still acting buddy buddy with me. So I know that Lee is still there but Bev isn't.

It appears, my friends, that Bev has been let go in the most UNPROFESSIONAL manner I have ever seen. She's not even been contacted by the owners about missing any shifts - not that it appears she even had any to miss.

I question the legalities of this. Yes, unfortunately we live in an at-will state and I have heard of things like this happening before where people technically are "fired" by not being scheduled or even contacted by management. I'm encouraging Bev to apply for unemployment to help her while she's in school, since I think she has a case here. It sucks, but I think she'll benefit in the end as she can now focus on her school and hopefully get a source of income elsewhere. 

Tl:Dr- my friend Bev quits Christian chicken store to work at an ice cream store. Starts off well, rubs arms with another employee who has been known to be a problem child. Bev ends up being the one let go without even being told anything by management. She wants even there three months.

[capseycartwright]

“Okay hear me out… What if we have sex?” for buddie please!

send me a prompt from this list

“Okay hear me out… What if we have sex?”

And okay, Eddie’s completely baffled look was probably justified, but Buck actually had a sound logic to back up his suggestion - really, he did. Shifting so he was lying on his side, looking intently at Eddie, Buck spoke again, the space between them in Buck’s double bed feeling positively cavernous as he scrambled to explain himself.

“You’re my best friend,” Buck said simply, gesturing vaguely around his loft apartment - an apartment they shared with Hen, and Chimney, most of the time, their friends working an opposite shift that day, giving Buck and Eddie some time to breathe before the loft was packed to the rafters again. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re living through an actual plague right now.”

Eddie still looked suitably confused, nestled under Buck’s navy duvet. Buck hadn’t realised how much Eddie craved comfort, and cosiness, until he’d arrived at Buck’s door with a suitcase in hand and his eyes red raw from crying the whole way from abuela’s to Buck’s, not sure when he’d see Christopher next. “And that led you to propose we have sex how, exactly?”

“Because we’re best friends, and neither of us have exactly been getting any, lately - and even if we wanted to, there’s the whole global pandemic to contend with,” Buck continued in a rush, doubting himself now. Had he read the situation all wrong? No - no, surely he couldn’t have. He and Eddie had always been comfortable with each other, and sharing an apartment, a bed, during lockdown had only served to break down every last boundary left between them. Buck wasn’t even slightly concerned when Eddie barged into the bathroom looking for his toothbrush when Buck was in the shower, anymore - sex wasn't an outrageous jump. “So, who better to have sex with than each other?”

Eddie’s nose scrunched up adorably. “Buck,” he said, voice soft. “You know I can’t do meaningless sex.”

And Buck knew that - of course he did. Right back when lockdown first began, and quarantine hit, and they had nothing to do except lie in bed at night and talk, he and Eddie had plenty of conversations about life, and love - and their sexualities. They’d talked about how Buck had always felt like the bisexual label fit him perfectly, and they’d talked about how Eddie had never really found a label that suited him, because he didn’t necessarily look at an attractive person and want to hook up with them - not in the same was as Buck did - and how he needed there to be an emotional connection, first, and Buck had done some Googling and proudly presented his best friend with the definition of demi-sexuality and Eddie had finally found a label that fit.

The point was -

Buck knew Eddie didn’t do meaningless sex.

“That’s the beauty of it being between us, Eddie - it wouldn’t be meaningless, because you’re my best friend,” Buck nudged. “You’re probably the healthiest emotional connection I have, actually.”

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I’ve never been with a guy before,” he admitted, clearly considering Buck’s proposal a bit more seriously than Buck had expected him to, given how doubtful he’d seemed a few minutes previously.

“The mechanics aren’t actually all that different,” Buck said, thinking of the practicalities of it all. People made a fuss about nothing, if you asked him - a body was a body and everybody looked and felt and reacted differently, regardless of gender. “And maybe I can finally teach you something, Diaz.”

“Don’t call me Diaz,” Eddie rolled his eyes, poking Buck’s side, making him squirm. “It wouldn’t - it wouldn’t make things weird between us, right?”

Buck shook his head, shuffling closer to Eddie - close enough that he could hear the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, feel each puff of breath against his cheeks. “No, never,” he said, firmly - fiercely. “Nothing will ever change the fact you’re my best friend, Eddie. I love you - like honestly an embarrassing amount. You’re my favourite person.”

“Don’t tell Christopher that,” Eddie teased, quiet again for a minute or two. “So we’re just going to platonically have sex because we’re both horny and living through a plague?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow, and sure, okay, when you phrased it like that, it seemed a bit ridiculous, but the stay-at-home order was mind-numbing, and lockdown was boring, and Buck liked sex, okay, and he missed sex - and whatever unhealthy relationship he had with it in the past wasn’t the point, not anymore, not when Buck was craving the intimacy of sex, the famiiarity of the way iot felt to have someone elses body move against yours.

(The problem had never been the sex, really - it had been what Buck was using sex to try and ignore.)

“That’s about it, yeah,” Buck confirmed. “The best sex - in my experience - is with the people you’re already able to communicate with. You know? The people you can talk to, and be honest with about what you want, and don’t want - the people you’re not trying to impress.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to try and impress me?”

And listen - Buck 2.0 was a different man to the one he’d been when he first started at the 118, sure, but if there was anything he was still spectacularly good at, it was sex. Easily, Buck maneuvered them so he was stradling Eddie’s hips, enjoying the way Eddie’s eyes widened in shock as Buck easily pinned his wrists either side of his head.

“Oh, I’ll be trying to impress you alright,” Buck said smoothly, getting close enough to kiss Eddie, but not quite committing to the embrace yet, giving Eddie a chance to bow out and they could forget the entire conversation.

Instead, Eddie angled his chin slightly, body slack and pliable in Buck’s grip. “What are you waiting for, then?”

And fuck, if that wasn’t a clear invitation to kiss Eddie, Buck wasn’t sure what it was.

(The somersault Buck’s stomach did when he finally kissed Eddie felt like a revelation - a very ill-timed revelation, considering Eddie’s tongue was halfway down Buck’s throat when Buck realised he didn’t want to have sex with Eddie to help a friend out. Oh, no - no, Buck was fucking in love with his best friend.

Shit. Fuck.

This was going to end up being weird, wasn’t it?)

[blu-joons]

DAD EXO HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴  Kim Minseok

A ⇴ AFFECTION

When the two of you are out in public, Minseok will be especially reluctant to let you out of his hold. He’s very conscious of you injuring yourself or someone bumping into you, so will always keep his arm around you and your bump as well.

B ⇴ BUMP

Minseok loved to cuddle up to your bump late at night, it didn’t matter how easy or difficult his day was, nothing completed his day like a cuddle with your bump. He could lay besides it for hours and do absolutely nothing, just enjoy being so close to his baby and feeling all of the little wriggles and kicks that they let go of whilst getting comfortable.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS

He makes sure that the cupboards are always full so that there’s food around for when you’re craving. He always worries that you might want something whilst he’s at work, so Minseok prefers to be safer than sorry and make sure that there’s at least one of everything that you like in the house so that you never crave for too long.

D ⇴ DUE DATE

As your due date neared, Minseok tried his hardest to stay calm and composed. The nerves were beginning to creep in for you both, but he knew that he had to try and not his nerves be noticed by you to keep you calm as well. Whilst he was confident that things would go as you planned, there was always a small voice in the back of his mind that kept him worrying that something might not go quite as you wanted it too.

E ⇴ EMOTIONS

More than anything else, Minseok made sure to embrace everything that came with your pregnancy. Even the parts of it that weren’t so pleasant, he still made sure to enjoy it as a part of the journey of pregnancy. When you were feeling particularly down, he would always try and pick you up and remind you of what the end goal was for you both, never allowing his own smile to drop over the whole nine months.

F ⇴ FAMILY

Minseok’s family loved to try and get as involved as they could with you, without overstepping the boundaries. Minseok had always been close to them and kept them well protected, and so they knew it was their turn to protect the two of you and be there for you whenever you needed them. Especially when Minseok was busy with work, they always took the time to care for you and keep you safe, easing his worries too.

G ⇴ GENDER

There was no way Minseok was going to wait to find out the gender of your baby, he was far too excited to know. The night before your scan which would reveal your gender, he could hardly sleep, his legs were bouncing and his nerves were growing, excited to find out whether your little one would be a boy or a girl.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT

The beat of your baby’s heart was a sound that Minseok could never get enough of. From the very first time he heard it, he knew he was never going to get used to it, each time you had an appointment, it was always the part that he looked forward to the most, with a massive smile on his face whilst he heard it too.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

You’d always been made to feel very loved by Minseok, but even more so whilst you were pregnant. Although he didn’t necessarily tell you that he loved you a lot, little gestures and actions always made sure that you know that he loved you whilst he also made sure to take the best possible care of you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

When the two of you were out in public and people started obsessing over your bump, Minseok would become a bit of a protective jealous. You’d tend to smile and humour whoever it was that was around your bump, but he was a lot more aware and also very good at picking up on when people were being too overwhelming for you, usually taking a hold of your hand to pull you away from the situation.

K ⇴ KICKS

The kicks of your baby were the things that those around you warned Minseok would be the most magical part of pregnancy, and they definitely weren’t wrong. Just as with the beat of the heart, it didn’t matter how many times he felt your baby kick, he still couldn’t believe that it was really happening to him.

L ⇴ LABOUR

It was hard for Minseok to feel so helpless throughout your labour and not be able to take away your pain whenever you told him that it hurt. Although your labour itself didn’t have too many hiccups along the way, he still hated feeling like a spectator. He’d try and reassure you the best that he could, but he had always been protective of you, and so he’d always reassure you feeling as if there was always more that he could do for you.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS

The sickness took a little while for Minseok to adjust to, but once it felt as if it was almost routine for you both, then he didn’t care at all. As long as you were alright by the end of it, that was all that mattered to Minseok, even if you had created a bit of a mess, he’d be straight there to clean it all up.

N ⇴ NURSERY

In his head, Minseok had a very clear vision of what he wanted your nursery to look like, even hiring in interior designers to help him bring his vision to life and create the perfect little space for when your baby arrived.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Minseok was obsessed with seeing you smile, he wanted to make sure that you enjoyed pregnancy as much as he did, even if there were definitely times when it was quite the challenge for you.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH

As soon as the midwives stepped away and Minseok could step back in, the protective side of him back. He was immediately fussing over you and your baby, asking whether there was anything that you wanted or anything that he could do. Even though he knew you were in safe hands, no hands were as safe as his.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He was always asking how you were; it was his number one priority from start to end. You could be doing absolutely nothing and Minseok would still appear wanting to know how you were feeling or whether there was anything that you wanted from him.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Everything that Minseok had was related somehow to your baby, whether that be his lock screen, or the items that he had in the back of his car. He had the photo of your scan printed on just about everything that he could, although he was already preparing to replace it all again once your baby arrived too.

S ⇴ SCANS

Minseok couldn’t get enough of your scan photos, he was always looking at them whenever he had a minute to himself. He always made sure to keep one on him so that he could look at it, whilst also being able to show it off to anyone that asked about your pregnancy or wanted to see your baby.

T ⇴ TEST

It took Minseok a few days to really let it sink in that your test was positive. He’d continually look at it when he was in the bathroom, struggling to believe that it really was positive and that you really were pregnant.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND

He always made sure to organise his schedule so that it fitted around your appointments because nothing was more important to him than being there for them.

V ⇴ VISITS

Minseok left things a few days before allowing any visitors round to your house. He wanted to give, and more importantly your baby, the time that you needed to adjust before the house got loud and full again.

W ⇴ WAITING

There were certainly times when Minseok would get excited and impatient, especially when your baby was particularly restless and giving you plenty of signs.

X ⇴ XXXX

Minseok tends to hug you more, especially with your baby bump, but that certainly won’t stop him trying to steal plenty of kisses from you too, especially when he can tell that you could do with a bit of cheering up.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were everything to Minseok, no words would ever truly be able to describe it.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Minseok practically gave up the whole bed in order to give you the space that you needed to be comfortable, not that he minded. The only thing that he was worried about was making sure you could get as much rest as possible.

---

Masterlist

[we-love-imagines]

Sunday Sniffles

Valentine’s Event: Day 4

Prompt: Rohan + Domestic

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: Hi! This one is a bit of a sick fic, but it isn’t very gross, just a little fever. I’m so excited for the Rohan ova to go to Netflix, I haven’t gotten the chance to watch them on my own so I’m super excited. I love Rohan so much, he’s so fun to write for! Expect a lot more Rohan content soon!

As you opened your eyes, groaning softly as you woke up, you noticed the man that was beside you when you went to sleep was long gone. To most people, waking up to an empty bed would be upsetting, but you had grown used to it. You and your fiancé, Rohan, were busy people, and there wasn’t much time for early morning cuddles. There was coffee to make, pages to draw, and work to be done. 

However, you both had the tendency to run yourselves ragged. As you rolled out of bed, your legs felt like jello, and your sinuses were extremely sore. As you headed to the bathroom, chills ran up and down your spine as you sniffled and coughed, your head pounding as every step felt like a mile. Realization hit you, however, when you entered the bathroom and flicked the lights on. Your paled cheeks and reddened nose gave it away- you had gotten sick.

After washing up a little, you hoped the icky feeling that coated your body would disappear so you could get some work done; alas, it did not. You slung a blanket over your shoulders, wandering down the hall to your fiancé's office on shaky legs.

“Rohaaaaaan,” you called, your voice hoarse,  before opening the door, “I’m coming in.” He always got a little miffed when he was interrupted, but he was used to you stopping in around this time to say ‘Good Morning.’ Not noticing the weak warble of your voice, he didn’t think to take his eyes off his work.

“What is it, (Y/n)?”

“Babe, I think I’m sick,” you told him, before sneezing, “I don’t think I’ll be able to look over your pages today, I’m sorry.”

Setting down his pencil, he turned to face you. The moment he laid eyes on you, he could definitely tell you weren’t bluffing- you looked like death. While Rohan could certainly overdo it at times, your job as a manga editor had you working yourself to the bone a lot. You not only checked for continuity and general errors in a multitude of mangakas’ manuscripts, but you also were their main consultant, bouncing around ideas with them whenever they seemed stuck. While you were the editor for Pink Dark Boy, Rohan was very self-sufficient, so he never needed much from you. However, as of late, the other mangakas under your care were getting quite needy, putting a little too much on your plate for the past week or so.

“Let me take your temperature,” Rohan stood up, taking your hand and dragging you into another room. He pulled out a little thermometer, placing it in your mouth- just as he expected, the temperature rapidly rose.

“You have a fever, my dear,” he sighed, looking over your weak form, “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” To most people, Rohan seemed like a heartless bastard; Hell, when you first became his editor, you thought so too. However, after getting to know him better, you quickly found that he could be rather sweet if he wanted to. After years of going out, you discovered that said kindness seemed to only be extended to you and a few close friends. Whenever he’d call you little pet names, or hold you like he was right now as he walked you back to your shared bedroom, you reminded yourself of why you fell for that heartless bastard in the first place.

Tucking you back in under your covers, he sat you up on some extra pillows, grabbing some extra blankets from the closet to warm you up even more.

“Tea?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves.

“Babe, you don’t need to baby me,” you told him, prying off some excess blankets, “Go back to work, I know you’re busy. Besides, I have a few calls to make-”

“No, no (Y/n). You’re not doing any work today,” he protested, taking the blanket you were trying to get rid of and putting it back on top of you, “The more you try to do today, the longer your fever is gonna last. You’ve been working too hard lately, anyways. It’s probably the reason you’re sick.”

“But the other mangakas need me, at least let me call them-”

“Dear, they’re creative people, they can manage for a few days while you recover,” he cut you off, making a snide face. He never liked how busy those other mangakas made you- they always seemed to rely on you too heavily for ideas.

“Until then, you’re staying right here. I’m going to make you some hot water for your throat- would you like to read something?”

“Again, babe, you don’t have to fuss over me,” you chided, shooing him away, “I won’t go into work today, but I can make my own tea. You have pages to finish.”

“I know I have pages to finish, but I’m ahead of schedule. Is it wrong of me to ensure my fiancée is well taken care of?” Rohan rolled his eyes, a cocky little grin on his face. He knew you hated when he was right. “What if I wanted to fuss over you anyways, hm? We’re both so busy, I don’t have the time to properly spoil you like I should.”

“You sly dog,” you smiled back at him, sniffling in between words, “You’ve been waiting for something like this, haven’t you?”

“Guilty is charged,” he chuckled, rolling up his sleeves before placing a box of tissues on your nightstand, “I’ve been wanting a nice, easy day with you for awhile. While your condition isn’t optimal, I’ll take any chance I get.”

Without another word, he rushed downstairs to fetch you some warm water as you reached for the drawer in your nightstand, pulling out a book you’ve been meaning to finish. Rohan came back to your room, not only with some hot water and a variety of tea bags to choose from, but with a large breakfast, too.

“You’ve got to drink lots of warm water and eat right so you can get better, okay?” he instructed, setting the tray of food deftly on your lap. You also noticed his ‘go bag’ of art supplies slung over his shoulder. He always carried that bag around when he was out of the house in case inspiration suddenly struck him, so he could draw whole pages of manuscript then and there. He set it down, gently, in the corner of the room; if this bag was with him, it meant that he was staying by your side all day.

Sitting on the bed next to you, Rohan made conversation with you while you ate, cleaning up soon after you were done. He spent the whole day like that, lying beside you, making sure you were okay.

“Rohan, you shouldn’t cuddle me,” you weakly argued, trying to push the man currently spooning you away, “I could get you sick!”

“I don’t care. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to just lay around together, Dear,” he shot back, nuzzling into you. While you wanted to protest further, the warmth of his body and the endearing pet-name made you complacent. Soon enough, you found yourself drifting off in his arms.

Seeing as you were ill, you had a hard time staying asleep, but Rohan would always lull you back down, comforting you like a mother singing to a baby. While part of you wished he was getting his work done, it felt so nice to finally spend some quality time with your future husband. Your little chats in between naps actually included a lot of wedding planning- something you were both too busy to think about since he popped the question. Also, even though you felt a little bad about it, it felt really nice to be doted on like this. Rohan was being so sweet and gentle with you, which was a very nice change of pace compared to his usual prickly personality.

Suddenly, you found yourself waking up, the electric clock on your nightstand showing that it was the early evening. Did you just spend all day in bed? Despite the frail feeling in your limbs, or how gross your face felt, it was so nice to lounge around all day. 

Behind you, you heard a little snore coming from Rohan. Carefully, you turned over to face him, making sure to go slow enough not to wake him. As you settled back in, you saw how peaceful his face was, all of the tension in his body gone as he slept.

It felt nice to wake up to his face again. From here on out, you two would make sure to save some more time for each other.

[nocturnalazura]

There are too many, I repeat, too many scenarious with Daddy Dabi. The most simple ones. Dabi comforts his baby after a nightmare, Dabi teaches the baby a swear word, Dabi feeds the baby and ot ends up being a mess… too many damn scenarious vut I leave that to you bc you’re the mastermind🙏🏻

EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP BECAUSE DABI COMFORTING HER AFTER A NIGHTMARE????? Ok anyway lets dive into these cute little scenes because I fucking can't. (Note: I have named their child Hina so for future reference on all future Daddy Dabi things she is now Hina) (also I wrote half of this on mobile so ignore any errors. I’ll fix it later)

Nightmares: It's late at night, their little apartment filled with silence until a quiet little voice cuts through the air of your bedroom.

"Daddy?" Comes a little whimper from the doorway.

It takes him a second but after another small whimper from the door he's sitting up and looking over to see a little shadow in the door way. The quiet sound of sniffling has him shooting up and moving to get to her quickly. Crouching in front of her, he doesn't even get a chance to say anything before she's launching herself into him, little body shaking as she trembles and cries, one little arm wrapped around his neck while the other holds onto her stuffed animal.

"Hina? Hey my little monster what's wrong?" He questions wrapping his arms around her.

"Daddy, monsters and noises and daddy!" Hina wails.

"Touya? What's wrong with Hina?" You mumbles sitting up to look over at their silhouettes in the doorway.

"I got her go back to sleep."

Picking her up he takes her back into her room, in the soft light of her little night light he can see all of the tears running down her face. She sniffles more and buries her face in his chest and continues to cry as he sits down on her bed.

"What happened?" He ask in the softest voice he can manage. She immediately launches into a warbled story of the nightmare she had, something about monsters and being alone somewhere no one could get to her. At the end of the story her tears start up again and she presses her face into him again sobbing. "Hina hey you're fine, I'm here, your mom's in the bedroom you're ok."

Leaning back against the wall he warms a hand and presses it against her back so she can feel the warmth through her top. It takes a little bit, rubbing small circles against her back while whispering the occasional reassurance to her before her cries finally start to stop. She sits up in his lap still clutching her little stuffie. His heart breaks a little as he looks over her tear stained face and bright blue eyes slightly swollen from sobbing.

“M sorry daddy.” Hina sniffs wiping her eyes.

“You got nothing to be sorry about. You ok?”

“Yeah.” She says rather hesitantly.

“You sure?” Finally she give a little shake of her head before falling back into his chest. “Hey, you know I’m not gonna let anything hurt you right?”

“I know.”

“You got nothing to worry about, most people are here are pretty scared of me so I’d say your safe.”

“Why are they scared of you?”

“That’s something you can find out about when your older.”

“Ok”

“Wanna try going back to sleep?” He asks rubbing her back again.

“Yeah, but can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?” She asks, bottom lip jutted out as she gives him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. But only for tonight.” He sighs, standing he scoops her up before walking back to your bedroom and letting her crawl into bed first before sliding in after her. Snuggled up between the two of you she quickly falls back asleep completely unaware of you turning over to face them.

“She got you wrapped around her little finger mr.villain.” You joke quietly.

“Shut up.”

Teach that kid to talk

So Hina’s first word is either dada (because daddy’s girl) or she straight up just says a little jumbled version of fuck.

Now if her first word is dada you know damn well this man is proud as fuck. But this is his kid, she’s gotta have an edge to her. So not long after she starts saying a couple more words he sets to work. Every time you’re out leaving him alone with her, he’s got her seated on his lap as he stares at her very seriously.

“Hina come on you can say it. Say fuck.”

“Dada.” She gurgles followed by little giggles.

“Yeah I know you can say that. Come on say fuck. Say fuck for daddy.” He tried again even using a softer voice that could almost be considered baby talk. “Come on be a good little monster for daddy. Say fuck. Fu-ck.”

She just giggles and lets out happy little chirps or dada. This isn’t the end he keeps trying. He goes about this for another couple weeks. Until finally you’re happily playing with her, having a pretend conversation as she babbles nonsense and the few words she knows.

“What else can my baby say? Can she say mama?” You coax smiling at her. Dabi watches leaning on kitchen counter, picking at left overs you had saved him.

Then time stops, your cute, sweet, perfect little Angel of a daughter babbling away happily lets out a soft little “fwuck”

Your eyes widen, Dabi inhales and nearly chokes on his food and she giggles. You just stare at her trying to process if you heard her correctly. Dabi coughs loudly in the kitchen trying to clear his throat before finally bursting out in laughter. Not his normal little snort, or snicker, full on bent over can’t breathe laughter. You honestly can’t decide what’s more shocking, your baby cursing or the fact that Dabi is genuinely laughing. But that clears out quickly, as funny as it you can’t help but be a little ticked at him.

“Dabi?” You question calmly.

“Eh? What no Touya?” He says finally catching his breath.

“Fine, Touya, did you teach my baby to fucking curse!?”

Queue another little chirp of “fwuck!”

Feeding the monster.

Hina is a pretty good baby for the most part, she like many kids has her moments where she melts down but she generally good. Feeding her isn’t hard at all, at first. When it was just a bottle Dabi would usually find his spot on the couch lean against the armrest, pull his knees up some and prop her up there and hold the bottle for her. He’d adjust the way she sat as needed always making sure that she was ok. Solid food is a whole different ball game for this man.

You leave him to feed her while you take a much needed long and hot bath.

He’s got her set up in her little high chair, little bowl filled with, honestly he’s not sure what it is he wasn’t listening when you told him what it was but it smells good. Hina makes a grabby hand for the small spoon he has, frowning when he pulls it away. She lets out a dissatisfied huff of not getting her item.

“Calm it you little monster, I’m gonna give you your food.” He grunts.

She impatiently bangs her tiny fists on the tray of the chair and let out little grunts and huffs. Scooting closer to her he takes a little spoonful and over it to her. When she just stares at him he moves it closer letting it touch her lips for a moment before she finally opens to accept it. He repeats this process a few times, awkwardly moving his arm around when she tries to steal the spoon again. It’s going pretty good, she’s got some food on her face from turning her head away and smacking the spoon but not to bad.

Then she decides she’s pretty much done. Little hands grab at the spoon more insistently spilling it on the tray and at some points managing to grab it enough to have it flick food back on him when she lets go. Annoyance rolls off him in heavy waves when he makes the absolutely stupid mistake of setting the little bowl down to wipe the food off his face. The bowl immediately is knocked off the tray as she tries to grab at it but is just a little short. It falls, spills is contents on his shirt and pants as it goes tumbling to the floor leaving a little trail of food behind it.

“And we’re fucking done here.” He grumbles getting her out of the chair.

The moment he picks her up little food covered hands and her little face are are all over him. She presses her littler version of opened mouth kisses all over his cheek smearing more food on him while her little hands grab at his hair and shirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in your robe you go to head into the bed room but stop and turn around again. Slapping a hand over your mouth you try your best to it laugh at him, standing there daughter now held away from as he grumbles at her. Both of them covered in food.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh.” He snaps when he sees you.

“Would you like some help?”

“No id like to just stand here covered in food.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass I’m not gonna help you.” You growl pointedly, he deflated slightly as that finally pulling her back towards him as she starts to fuss. “Did she actually eat it or just cover the two of you in it?”

“She fuckin ate don’t worry not hurry up.”

[chuckbass-love]

hi! i wanted to request a smutty fic w prompt 100 with ransom and reader. maybe they were at a party and someone was hitting on reader and touching her and ransom got mad. 🤗

Hi love! Again, to everyone (including you) that has sent in a request, i’m sorry it’s taken so long. I feel bad for making people wait but i never wanna upload work that’s anything short of great in my eyes. I always want to be at my best. This didn’t quite go the way i wanted it to but i really hope it’s still good. Everyone reading, please feel free to leave feedback. It helps and is very appropriated.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else touch you”

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, smut, sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, slight ownership kink (if you squint) and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,563

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @kylosrehn go check them out💜

Over My Dead Body

When making plans for the weekend with Ransom, going to a party full of stuck up rich people wasn’t exactly on your agenda. But, seeing it’s part of his lifestyle, you made an exception and besides it was yet another party hosted by his grandfather Harlan. 

You never used to attend these parties since Ransom never invited you. He preferred to keep your interactions strictly bedroom related, nothing more, nothing less. It was beginning to confuse the hell out of you because sometimes on a rare occasion, he’d let you meet his friends and family.

But as previously stated, it’s rare.

When the two of you first met, sparks flew instantly. Your friend had introduced you, she was on a date with her boyfriend, her boyfriend brought him along just like she brought you along.

Their way of setting you two up. And it worked.

A solid 2 hours after meeting the man, he was balls deep inside of you making you forget your own name and turning you into a moaning mess underneath him. Since then you’ve been hooked. Whenever either of you are horny, you fuck.

But like any other fuck buddy relationships, there’s a catch. You two have a clear love for each other, one that neither of you will ever be brave enough to admit. Mostly because Ransom is a huge commitment phobe. The thought of only being with one girl for the rest of his life scares him and you just don’t admit your feelings because the thought of being rejected weighs heavier than the optimism of it working out in your favour.

 Although he’s scared of settling down, Ransom sure did seem keen to bring you along with him to this party tonight which now you come to think of it, he’s been like that the last few times he’s taken you out.

Maybe he’s changing his mind.

“Red wine?” you hear, turning your head to see the man himself holding a wine glass for you and a tumbler glass for himself, no doubt filled with whiskey on the rocks. He does love his whiskey after all.

“Thank you, so tell me again. Why am i here?”  you ask before taking a rather large sip of your wine, you certainly need liquid courage if you’re going to talk to these people.

“Who else would i have brought?” he responds, voice monotone, almost as if he’s bored and very uninterested. So all this time you thought there was a possibility of him changing his mind when in reality, he’s just been bringing you along to all of these lavish parties to keep up appearances.

No doubt to keep that controlling mother off of his back.

You shrug, continuing to look around as Ransom greets some of his grandfathers guests. One of them looks at you before looking at Ransom who eventually introduces you two, attempting to strike up some small talk until he’s being dragged away to talk to a group of men who no doubt are a lot older than him. Leaving you stood all alone.

That’s when you spot a guy across the room. He looks around Ransoms age. Tall, expensive suit, blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus he seems friendly. He raises his hand to wave and you reluctantly strut over, greeting him with a shy smile which he reciprocates.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing stood all alone?” his compliment has you flustered and unsure how to respond but still, you find the words “thank you and i’m not alone, i came here with Ra-”

“Ransom Drysdale, yeah i saw you with him, where did he disappear to?”

“I have no idea, off talking to random strangers” you chuckle nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed about his absence. Little do you know, Ransom can see you with this mystery man, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight of you laughing.

Surely he can’t be that funny, he thinks to himself. But he is. He’s hilarious.

“So what do you think drew her to him then?” you giggle, gesturing to the couple next to you, a woman who’s dressed up to the nines with her husband who looks a lot older than her “oh obviously his looks, what makes you question her intentions?” he smirks and you shove him playfully.

“Oh of course. What was i thinking? Silly me” you wink, downing the rest of your drink in seconds before he takes another flute of champagne off of the waitresses tray for you.

“If i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re trying to get me drunk sir” you say using your best posh voice. Unbeknownst to you though, Ransom can hear your whole conversation, every single thing you’re saying to this man.

But can he really be mad? You’re only talking to, right? Besides he’s not exactly your boyfriend so you’re free to talk to whoever you want. Not that you want anyone else.

What he won’t admit now though is how jealous he is right now, he’s had just about enough of another man making you laugh the way that he’s supposed to make you laugh and now the only way this man is taking you home is over his dead body. But for now, he’s gonna make use of his best poker face, side eyeing the two of you on the sly as anger starts to build.

You start to look around the room yourself, trying to find Ransom and as you do, you spot him heading over to the drinks table so you decide to take that as your opportunity to excuse yourself, joining your date.

“Hey you” you bump him, a cheesy grin plastered across your face, one that fades as quickly as it appeared thanks to Ransoms straight and unimpressed expression.

You stand in front of him, blocking his access to the drinks “is everything okay?” but instead of an answer, you get silence. No response whatsoever. Why is he ignoring you?

“Ransom?” 

“What?” he mutters, evidently agitated “what’s wrong?”

He chuckles in response, shoving past you to get his drink and lifting the tumbler to his plump pink lips, practically gulping it down without even so much as a flinch “oh don’t worry, everything is fine. Hey why don’t you go back to your little conversation with Mr Perfect will you” and just like that, he’s storming away from you and up the stairs to the second floor, instantly regretting sending you back to that man.

What could have gotten him so wound up?

If seeing you with that guy is the problem then maybe he shouldn’t have left you.

And without a second more to overthink and fester over his random outburst, you return to the other gentleman. One who knows how to treat you with respect as opposed to shutting you out.

“Hello again” he beams “i was about to say your name but then i remembered we never exchanged those”

“I’m Y/N”

“Jack”

“Nice to meet you Jack”

“Likewise”

The two of you shake hands as another conversation sparks up, pushing all Ransom related thoughts to the back of your already full brain.

Whilst Ransom is sat in the bathroom. Flustered, angry and ready to blow his lid at something so small. A situation that means nothing. That man means nothing to you, surely. You’re just being friendly, after all he did leave you to go and socialise. What did he expect you to do? Stand in the corner away from everyone?

You don’t want this guy though. Jack is just a friend you’ve made here. You want Ransom and he wants you too but his pride is in the way.

God what is wrong with him?

Evidently a lot.

One minute he’s all over you, taking you to parties and the next he’s giving you the silent treatment and acting like you’ve done something wrong.

And the only reason for his odd behaviour is because of the plan he made for tonight. Anyone who knows Ransom knows very well about his thoughts on relationships but with you, things are different and they always have been. You force him out of his comfort zone, you challenge him and you make him better. He was so nervous for tonight that the second the two of you arrived at the party he was drinking and acting strange.

As much as the thought of settling down scares him, he knows that it’s much better to tell you than watch you leave and find someone new. Seeing you with that guy only confirmed that. 

After spending who knows how long in the bathroom trying to talk himself out of kicking up a fuss, he heads back down to the party, maybe he should go and spend more time with you but as he walks down the stairs, he instantly spots you and that same guy again. His hand is on your arm and you’re way too close for his liking. Close enough to make his skin crawl and his jaw clench even tighter. 

He storms over, hearing his voice as he does so.

“So i know you came here with Ransom but i was wondering if i could maybe get your number?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he anxiously awaits your reply.

Jacks nerves are abundantly clear until Ransom cuts you off, stopping you from opening your mouth to respond. He tugs on your arm, pulling you back “the answers no, prick” he snaps, dragging you through the crowd and out into the cold night air, barely giving you a chance to say goodbye to anyone and causing goosebumps to form all over your bare arms and legs.

“Ransom what the fuck?” you yell, trying your best to yank your arm from his tight grip “just get in the fucking car” he demands, opening the door for you. How chivalrous of him. His raised voice made you jump a little, cowering slightly and leaving you with no choice but to do as you’re told.

The second he gets in too, he’s shoving the key in the ignition and speeding off away from the party. Jack and all of the crowd long forgotten not just out of sight but out of mind too. Now all you can think about is Ransom and what’s got him so angry all of a sudden as he was pretty happy on the journey here.

You daren’t speak though, god forbid. Your words will only wind him up further.

Knuckles start to turn white as he grips the steering wheel like never before, his fingers tapping frantically which is an obvious indication of his need to get home as soon as physically possible.

You honestly can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this angry in the whole time you’ve known him and that’s quite literally the scariest thing about this.

Eventually you reach his house, or should you say bachelor pad and he barely waits a second for you to exit the car before he’s storming off into the house without you.

Once you get inside he’s nowhere to be seen until you hear a loud slam of a door coming from upstairs. You head up and into the master bedroom instantly to find him undressing and discarding his clothes across the room. 

“Ransom” you approach him with caution, worry filling your soft and caring voice but the moment you’re a few inches away and about to touch him, he shoots around, scaring you.

“Would you have given him your number?” he questions, his blue eyes looking deep into yours almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Who? Jack? No, of course not. Why’re you even asking me that?” you protest, hoping he’ll believe you but now you come to think of it, you probably looked way too close for comfort.

“Lies” 

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because it sure seemed like the two of you were getting awfully cosy tonight, laughing, drinking, touching each other” he explains, closing the space between you and making you gulp.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t of treated me like i was invisible all night then i wouldn’t have needed to make friends with him. You forget that you barely said a word the whole time” now you’re the one that’s angry as you step back after your outburst, watching him carefully. His next actions shock you though as he just laughs, turning away and speed walking across the bedroom to the en suite. But before you can even follow him, he slams the door, making you flinch and then as you thought he would, he locked it.

Why can’t he ever be mature enough to talk about things. All he ever does is avoid confrontation. You don’t really like it either but at least you’re trying to sort whatever issue has him all in his feelings and angry.

Rather than sitting and waiting for him to leave the bathroom, you decide to go and get ready for bed in the other one, showering before getting dressed into whatever you can find. Which just so happen to be a shirt of his.

He dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist before unlocking the door and walking out to find you sat on the bed.

“The answer is no and that’s the truth” 

“Oh yeah? Then why was his hands all over you like you were there with him tonight?” 

“That was nothing, we were just laughing. What about you though huh? Snapping at me all night, leaving me and then deciding at the very last second that you want to spend time with me. Felt a lot like just another one of your games” it doesn’t look like he believes you and now you’re over trying to prove yourself.

“I left to talk to people and i was acting funny because going to those parties never end well, i wasn’t playing games with you” he stalks towards you, closing the gap.

Okay, now that makes sense. It explains all about how his behaviour changed when the two of you entered the actual party.

“You know, seeing you with that guy wasn’t easy. I got angry. All this time i thought you knew that you belonged to me, clearly i was wrong” his fingers graze your arm before settling underneath your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Maybe you need a reminder” he’s so close to you now, his hands are all over your waist, moving down agonisingly slow towards your ass. He smacks the backs of both thighs as a signal for you to jump and you do. How can you resist?

His lips attack yours in a brief and passionate kiss before he throws you down to the bed “i’m gonna make you forget all about him” he then removes the towel.

You furrow your brows watching as he lifts your (his) shirt up, revealing your laced panties. His favourite on you. He spreads your legs with his hands as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to press a firm kiss to the inside of both your thighs.

That’s when he does what he always does, turns you into a moaning mess by devouring your pussy like a man starved. Sucking, slurping and flicking his tongue all over your sex effortlessly like your body was made for him. Just how you felt the first time he ever touched and tasted you.

“Mhmm, just like that” you run your fingers through his styled locks, messing them up without a care. “I’m the only one for you" he mumbles and it vibrates onto your clit making you giggle.

“You’ve always been the only one” you whisper and he looks up at you with lustful eyes but also a look of love. One you’ve not seen before or maybe you’ve never noticed.

The way he looks at you isn’t new but all this time you’ve assumed it’s because of his attraction to you, that he’s only looking at you that way because of his uncontrollable lust.

“Only i am allowed to touch you like this, taste you” his lips wrap around your clit, sucking like his life depends on it as his thick digits tease your dripping entrance “s’wet sweetness”

You tug a little harder as you lift your bum off of the bed, grinding yourself on his face with a burning desire for that sweet release, the one only he has been able to give you “that’s it sweetness, cum all over my face, cum for daddy” his low and raspy voice spurring you on and talking dirty sends you over that edge as you cum with a loud moan. Quicker than usual.

You try to push him off as you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars. All you can focus on is how sensitive you are but he’s cleaning you up with his tongue, clearly can’t get enough of how you taste.

“Always so sweet” he gets back up, moving you further up the bed and parting your legs as he hovers above you with his fingers making quick work to slip your panties to the side. The tip of his cock rests at your entrance as he dips his head to capture your lips with his tongue pushing past them and into your mouth to battle with your tongue.

You can taste yourself on him and that alone arouses you leading you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso “i need you, now” you plead, urging him to give you what you want, which he does. He pushes in slowly at first, seating himself deep inside before really moving. 

His pace gets going, rocking his hips back and forth, making sure to fill you up all the way as you claw at his back, your mouth hanging open in the perfect O shape “fuck, daddy it feels so good” you groan moving with him in his thrusts.

“Feel good baby?” he pants, resting his head in the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your weak spot “tell daddy how good it feels sweetness. Use your words” he growls and you lift his head up so you can kiss him, cupping his face with one hand “it feels incredible, please don’t stop”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wanna feel that pussy cream all over my cock. Give it to me sweetness” he licks his index and middle fingers before pressing them down on your clit hard, rubbing aggressively as his pace turns animalistic.

He’s ramming into you with such vigor, his breath fanning your shoulder and the noises he’s making are a far cry from just moaning. No he’s not moaning, he’s upset too or at least bothered by something.

“Can feel you squeezing me sweetness, you close?” he kisses your shoulder but this time he’s more gentle, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“Yes, oh my god i’m gonna cum. Please, keep going” 

The two of you move more frantically. Desperately chasing a joint release.

Grunts, growls and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room, the sound bouncing off of the walls as you both near closer. That’s when you turn the tables around, kissing his neck this time, biting too.

“I’m gonna cum daddy”

“God i love you so much, cum with me” 

3.2.1

And you’re legs are shaking in the air, his cock starts to twitch before he coats your walls with his hot seed.

“I love you too”

As he looks back into your eyes, you see it, the tears brimming and threatening to spill but he quickly kisses you, knowing full well that it’ll distract you but not this time. You pull back to look again but he only moves.

“You know i don’t think i was ever angry at you” he starts, standing up to retrieve the towel “it was him. Seeing him flirting with you only made me realise what i wanted” you get off of the bed now, approaching him “call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you” he rests his forehead to yours, his hands resting on your waist “you’re mine, plain and simple”

“You never were one to do things the easy way” the two of you laugh before he kisses you “the easy way is boring”

Although you’re shocked about his confession, you daren’t pry more right now on his feelings. For now you just want to enjoy this moment. The two of you feel the same and that’s enough for you.

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[thathopelessromantic]

your hand in mine

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Rating: Teen+ (for blood/injuries and minor language) Pairing: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might (EraserMight) Note: Part of the EMMB 2021

The difference a year makes

A developing relationship told in seasons

AO3: (X) Companion Playlist: (X)

Summer

My love, he caught me crying Freedom can die so hard When you have a broken heart -God in Jeans, Ryan Beatty

Shouta is determined to ignore the sounds coming through the adjoining wall to his apartment. But it’s hard. There was an adjustment period to living in the apartments on campus, to stay close to the students in case of another attack. In his old apartment, the hours he kept were so erratic he rarely, if ever, ran into his neighbors. Now he knows all of them, some to a degree he never needed to know a coworker. And aside from the occasional hero work, they kept essentially the same hours. So even through the walls of the apartment, there’s usually the buzz of life around him – friends and co-workers settling down after a long day, cooking, cleaning. There was an adjustment period to being so aware of the people around him, but he thought he had well…adjusted.

He’s reconsidering that position now.

He’d like to blame it on the neighbor in question. Yagi, All Might, made so much noise as All Might, announcing his every arrival and departure with a booming voice or the crushing of some man-made structure not meant to withstand the superpowered strength of a 225 kg giant using it as a landing pad or springboard. But Yagi Toshinori as himself, at least while alone, seemed to make up for all the noise he made as his alter ego by being eerily quiet. Shouta had gotten so accustomed to hearing silence from the apartment to his right he thought it was empty. Originally, he thought it just made sense for All Might to take it for show like all the other teachers, but actually spend his time at his real home, some lavish penthouse in the Might Tower or something equally as ridiculous and extravagant. Though now that he was retired, and essentially quirkless, that trip from Tokyo to Musutafu was probably a little harder to manage every morning. Still, it seemed silly for the previous number one hero to be slumming it in glorified student dorms with the rest of them.

But Shouta was wrong about that fact too, just as he had been with many of his assumptions about the old hero. He had spent the last few months reassessing most of his assumptions about All Might, but he tended to fall back into old habits without evidence to the contrary. When a violent crash came from the otherwise silent apartment a few weeks prior, he rushed in, assuming an intruder. Instead he found Yagi in the middle of a starkly decorated living room amongst the splintered pieces of a coffee table he had fallen through. Yagi had insisted it was an accident, and an unusual one at that, and begged him to leave the subject. Shouta agreed with little argument, helping him clean up the mess, and going back to his apartment without much fuss. But he before he even realized it, Shouta found himself listening for signs of life in the adjacent apartment after that.

Occasionally he could pick up the sound of running water or the quiet beep of an oven timer or microwave. Very rarely, a quiet radio or TV station would drift through the walls. Most of the sounds would easily get lost in the bustle of every day life between a dozen or so heroes coming and going, or could have been mistaken for someone else’s noise, so it wasn’t a surprise that Shouta had missed the fact that it came from All Might’s apartment. But once he knew to listen for it, he couldn’t seem to stop listening for it.

It wasn’t…worry, exactly, that had him keeping tabs on Yagi, but he couldn’t find another word for it. He just couldn’t stop wondering how long Yagi had lived there before he realized. Couldn’t stop thinking about how dark, how cold, how empty the apartment was when he burst in before. Shouta wouldn’t have thought he ever considered what All Might’s house might have looked like until he saw how the retired hero was living and it struck him distinctly as wrong.

The coughing he hears tonight cuts over the quiet music Yagi has playing and he wonders if he normally plays it to cover the sound of his coughs before he banishes the thought from his mind. He has a week’s worth of lessons to plan still and papers to grade and what Yagi chooses to do in his own apartment is none of his business. And he is an adult who is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and doesn’t need Shouta of all people fretting over him. But all of Shouta’s logical reasons for why he should ignore the sounds coming through their shared wall can’t seem to stop him from hesitating at every harsh sound, from looking to the door and considering going over every time a coughing fit lasts more than a minute or so.

Eventually, Yagi seems to settle for the night and the coughing fits interrupt the slow music less and less. Finally able to focus on his work instead of his neighbor, Shouta lets the quiet sounds from his apartment fade into the chorus of background noise. So when, almost an hour later, there’s a new coughing fit followed by a large crack of something on the other side of the wall, Shouta is on his feet and moving to the door before he realizes what he’s doing.

He freezes in the hallway, staring at the closed door of Yagi’s apartment. No one else came to investigate the sounds, which seems strange to Shouta. It seems…impossible that no one else heard that and he knows for a fact their other neighbors on this floor are not particularly good at minding their business. But no one else comes to see what’s happening, so Shouta stands in the hall staring at the door feeling torn between an obligation to check on Yagi and a nervous, clawing sensation that makes him want to turn and never step foot back inside All Might’s apartment.

The coughing and some other muffled sounds continue through the door and eventually Shouta’s sense of obligation to help wins out because he knocks on the door, calling for All Might. No one answers.

Shouta knocks again, harder, but still after a few minutes he gets no response. Finally, he tries the handle.

The door swings open easily, unlocked.

Shouta has a lecture building in his head on the basic safety of locking your doors as he steps through the doorway. Like the last time, All Might’s apartment is dark. There’s a single pair of shoes in the entrance way that leads to the empty kitchen. The table pushed to the side of the room is identical to the one in Shouta’s apartment, but whereas his is covered in bills and homework in need of grading, All Might’s is empty. Only a single chair sits at the table meant to seat four.

Shouta steps through the kitchen into the living room, calling for All Might. He can hear someone coughing, and swearing as he gets close enough to make out the muffled talking, but still no one replies. The table Yagi had fallen through weeks before still hasn’t been replaced, so the only thing in the living room now is a large couch that looks virtually unused and Yagi’s briefcase on the floor besides it. Moonlight pours into the room from the glass balcony doors painting the room a cold blue despite the summer heat. Shouta can almost imagine the room, cold and dusty, the single piece of furniture covered in a sheet, it’s previous occupant gone, without enough of a fingerprint to even be forgotten within the space.

Shouta shakes the thought from his head and moves further into the apartment. Finally, down the hall to the two bedrooms, he sees light seeping into the hallway from the open bathroom door.

“All Might? It’s Aizawa. I heard a crash. I was just coming to-” Shouta feels the words catch in his throat as he takes in the sight before him. The laminate countertop and sink basin are broken in half, and water soaks the floor of the bathroom from a burst pipe under the sink. There is no mirror on the wall above the sink, which strikes Shouta as odd in the moment, though it is perhaps the least weird thing happening in the bathroom in that moment. All Might…Yagi stands in the middle of the room, the bottom of his pants are soaked with water. His hands, clutched in fists at his sides, are bloody, though if its from breaking the skin against the sink or from wiping at the blood dripping from his mouth, Shouta isn’t sure. The blood there is smeared across the bottom half of his face, the deep red staining his clenched teeth and seeping through the cracks in thin, dry lips that hold back his coughs. There’s a furious, wild look in his eye as the curses Yagi was spewing die on his lips and Shouta isn’t sure if he looks more ready to yell or cry.

But through all of that, it’s the bright red, gnarled scar on the side of Yagi’s chest that seems to be eating him from the inside that makes Shouta take a step back in shock. Yagi’s baggy clothes hid most of his form like this, even with his more updated wardrobe fitting him better. But the crater in his chest mangles his form. Even if he was standing up straight, if he even can fully stand straight with that much scar tissue stretched across his torso, it was obvious the scar had made his chest uneven, like it was slowly collapsing into itself, ribs and organs giving way to nothingness.

How many years had he lived like this? How many years had he worked like this?

“Aizawa,” Yagi grinds out hoarsely, the single word sounding like gravel in his abused throat.

It pulls Shouta out of his shock regardless, and he takes a few steps closer, as if they could both forget his broken composure. “I’m sorry for coming in unannounced. I heard the…crash. But there was no answer and your door was unlocked.”

Yagi stares at him for a long time and Shouta isn’t sure if it is because he doesn’t know what else to say, or just that he can’t bring himself to say anything else.

“Can I…help with anything?” Shouta finally asks.

Yagi pops his jaw a few times before he tries to speak again. “If you could…call someone…about the water…”

“Of course,” Shouta starts to pull out his cell, hoping he remembered to keep the stupid thing charged for once, when Yagi starts to speak again.

“Could you also…grab some towels…and a…a change of clothes?”

Shouta looks up but Yagi isn’t looking at him anymore. Just staring hard at the wall in front of him as if it had personally caused all of this. Shouta looks down again at the slowly-flooding room and wonders if Yagi even owns enough towels to make a difference.

“In the closet in the bedroom?” Shouta guesses.

Yagi nods once, stiffly.

Shouta takes the opportunity to flee for a moment gratefully. He calls Nezu and the maintenance number they had all been given when they moved in as he goes to the bedroom to rummage through the closet. He doesn’t turn the light on in the bedroom, he’s not sure why he doesn’t want to, maybe just to afford Yagi even a sliver more of privacy after tonight. But it doesn’t make a difference. The moon is full tonight and enough light comes through the open window to show that nothing is in the room except for an unnaturally large bed, the dark plain sheets slipping to the ground, and a bedside table covered in enough pill bottles to fill a small pharmacy.

There are only two more full-sized towels in the closet and a single hand towel, so Shouta just grabs all three. He’s not sure the clothes matter that much, so he just grabs the first pair of pants he sees that don’t look like slacks and a t-shirt.

He returns to the bathroom. The water is still steadily pouring in and there is no way the three thin towels will make much of a difference, if any. Still, Yagi takes them from him, dropping the two full-sized towels onto the ground. He uses the hand towel to wipe off his arms and chest first, though dry it doesn’t do much to help the blood that seems to be everywhere.

Uncaring of Shouta standing there, Yagi undoes the belt that keeps his jeans on his body and they drop to join the already-soaked towels and the stained lump between his legs Shouta thinks might have been his shirt. Yagi steps out of them, gingerly walking through the water until he joins Shouta in the hallway. He drops the hand towel to the ground, mopping up what water had already begun to leak out of the room. Shouta doesn’t mean to stare, but like every other part of him, Yagi’s legs are unbearably thin, nothing but skin and bone and scar tissue, the pale pink and white lines crisscrossing over his calves and thighs like a roadmap.

Yagi holds out a hand for the clothes. Shouta realizes his mistake in not looking carefully a moment later as he pulls on the jeans and dark t-shirt obviously meant for All Might’s pre-retirement body. Shouta feels an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Yagi barely blinks at the ill-fitting clothes. He wraps a fist around the waist band of the pants to keep them up and shuffles past Shouta into the dark living room.

Shouta follows hesitantly behind him. “Nezu said he would be here soon,” Shouta says as Yagi falls miserably onto the couch. He drops his head to rest on the back of the couch and sighs, exhausted. Despite his open, splayed position, Yagi’s body is still tense, coiled tight like he’s ready for a fight at any moment.

“Can I do anything else?” Shouta asks.

Yagi licks his lips. “A glass of water would be appreciated.”

Shouta nods, heading into the kitchen. He turns the light on above the stove for something to see by, but he worries the overhead light would be too harsh in this odd darkness. He finds a glass easily enough, Yagi only has things in two cupboards. He opens the fridge, but it’s empty. Not empty like Shouta’s is “empty,” as in home to just a water pitcher, some old condiments, and his latest package of jelly pouches, but completely and entirely empty. Shouta closes and opens the door again as if it would change the contents of the fridge. He opens the freezer above, just to check, but expecting more of the same. There Yagi has an ice pack and ice tray with two ice cubes left.

Shouta fills the glass at the sink and returns to the living room. Yagi’s position hasn’t changed at all, though he turns his head to watch Shouta reenter the room. He sits up to accept the glass once Shouta is closer, and at that distance Shouta can see there are cuts across his knuckles. They don’t seem to be actively bleeding any more, but they’re not a pretty sight regardless.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

Yagi takes a drink before he answers Shouta. “Under the sink in the kitchen.”

Shouta turns back around to retrieve it. He also finds a dry dish cloth in a drawer that he dampens at the sink. He’s wringing the towel out when there’s a quiet knock at the door before it swings open. Nezu stands on the other side with a plumber.

Shouta bows his head in hello. “Principal.”

“Aizawa-sensei!” Nezu replies brightly. “Thank you for being such a dutiful neighbor and checking on All Might.”

Shouta follows Nezu and the plumber back into the living room. The small principal shows the plumber to the bathroom, waving off Shouta’s offer to show them the way, before he returns and stops at the couch. His head just barely rises above Yagi’s knee as he looks at him in concern.

“How are you, Toshinori?”

Shouta freezes at the familiarity in his tone. Yagi’s expression changes ever so slightly as he looks down at Nezu.

“I’ve survived much worse than this, old friend.”

Nezu laughs off the comment, good naturedly, but the laugh sounds hollow even to Shouta. “Yes, well I suppose that’s true.” Nezu reaches over and pats Yagi’s knee. “I’ll let Aizawa-sensei here clean you up a little while I look at the damage, hm?”

He scurries off back down the hall before either hero can argue. That had been Shouta’s plan, even before Nezu announced it, but now he hesitates, frozen and staring at the old hero before him. The towel he brought drips slowly but steadily down his hand and onto the floor. He’s not sure Yagi wants his help, and normally he would prioritize the man’s injuries over his personal hang-ups in the moment, but he already feels as if he’s intruded too much into the man’s space, into his privacy.

So Yagi breaks the silence, holding out a bloodied hand towards him. “I can clean up the blood,” he offers.

“I’m not worried about a little blood,” Shouta snaps, unthinkingly. Irritated back into movement, he sets the first aid kit on the ground besides the couch and grabs Yagi’s outstretched hand. Mindful of the open wounds, he wipes at the blood furthest away first, where it dripped past his hand and down his wrist before drying in dark, cracking trails.

Yagi’s eyes glint for a moment and Shouta thinks he almost looks amused.

Shouta has to rinse out the towel twice before he’s finished with both of Yagi’s hands. The wounds on his left knuckles started bleeding again as he washed his hands, but thankfully it was a slow, sluggish bleed that didn’t go far. Satisfied with his work there, Shouta starts to drop the towel but Yagi’s hand darts out catching it before it can hit the floor. Shouta stops, surprised by the quick movement, as Yagi looks for the cleanest spot on the towel before wiping at his own face.

Shouta watches for a moment before he remembers himself and busies himself with going through the first aid kit. In comparison to the rest of Yagi’s apartment, it’s surprisingly well stocked. Yagi drops the bloodied towel uncaringly onto the couch cushion besides him as Shouta pulls out some antibiotic ointment, a gauze wrap, and some clasps.

When he looks up, Yagi is watching him curiously, like he’s still trying to figure out Shouta’s bizarre behavior. And there’s still blood around his mouth. Shouta sets the supplies aside, picking the towel back up. He steps between Yagi’s long legs, carefully holding his chin in place.

“You could just tell me I missed a spot,” Yagi reminds him quietly as Shouta wipes gently around his mouth.

“This is just more efficient,” Shouta says harshly. He tries to look only at the bottom half of Yagi’s face where there’s still blood, but he can feel his bright eyes boring into him.

Finally, Yagi says, “You haven’t asked.”

Shouta’s hand clenches around his chin, a reflex, a flinch, before he forces himself to relax. He looks up finally meeting Yagi’s eyes. The bright blue sears him in the dark. “It’s none of my business.”

“You can ask, Aizawa.” Yagi replies and it’s the use of his name that gets him. They’re All Might and Eraserhead to each other. Co-workers. That’s all they were supposed to be, ever. But Shouta’s aware Yagi’s slowly become Yagi more than he is All Might to him, and even if he leaves now, doesn’t ask any more, insists on knowing nothing else, he now knows something big about All Might that he imagines very few know. He can’t unlearn this secret, so he might as well have the whole story.

“What happened…to your side?”

“My first fight with All For One was six years ago,” Yagi starts and it takes all of Shouta’s self control not to react. Six years. “I crushed his head and damaged his body, originally I believe to an extent that he could not recover, though, obviously, I was wrong.” Yagi makes an odd, self-deprecating smile. “In return, after the fight I lost my stomach and part of my left lung, among some other irreparable damage to my respiratory system. I could still fight, but I was weakened considerably…it limited the amount of time I could use my quirk. And eventually left me like this.”

“…Why?” Shouta isn’t entirely sure what he’s asking until Yagi tilts his head and looks at him as if the answer is the most obvious one in the world.

“I’m…I was a hero. It was my job. I couldn’t retire yet.”

Shouta feels some kind of emotion welling up in his chest, choking him, as he looks at the weathered hands he’s bandaging and thinks of all they’ve done. All they did while withstanding this immense pain and loss. But he doesn’t know how to articulate that. Doesn’t know how to say thank you in a way that matters, in a way that he’ll even believe. So instead he says, “You’re an idiot.”

Yagi’s head drops back against the couch and he laughs. Not the same, booming laugh of All Might, but something somehow familiar and comforting all the same.

“Thank you, Aizawa,” Yagi says.

Shouta isn’t sure exactly what Yagi is thanking him for, but he can’t quite bring himself to ask.

X

Fall

Please don’t be afraid I will always be here I will cry your tears Share your sweet, sad fears Please don’t look away Take my hand in your hand Come and rest my dear I will always be here -Always Be Here, Ha Jin

Eri clutches tightly to Shouta, one small hand twisted in the capture weapon around his neck while the other holds the front of his jumpsuit. Her head is tucked against his shoulder, hiding her face from the world, but even through the layers of his clothes he can feel how she’s burning up. Her quirk had started acting up the night before, after a nightmare she hasn’t wanted to talk about. Shouta was able to stop it quickly enough, thankfully, but she’s been sick since he woke her from the nightmare and he’s running out of ideas for what to do.

She’s so impossibly light in his arms, and clutches so desperately to him, he can’t help but wonder how many times she had actually been held and cared for like a young child should be before she came to live with him. If she had been comforted at all the last time she was sick like this. And the thought makes him hold her a little tighter, a little closer to him.

He felt a little bad to disturb her when he picked her up and carried her from bed, but he needed help. And he couldn’t leave her alone. The hallway is quiet, most of his coworkers taking advantage of the last few hours of their weekend to relax, so he realizes it might be a long shot for someone to be home to help, but he knocks on Yagi’s door anyways.

It only takes a moment before Yagi answers. His bright greeting trails off when he sees Eri, Shouta’s own haggard appearance probably not helping matters.

“Hello, Aizawa, little Eri-chan,” Yagi says quietly.

Eri twists in his arms and for a moment, Shouta is worried this was a terrible idea. When they first met, Yagi’s size and appearance had made Eri a little nervous. She’s gotten better with him, and with people all around, but even when she hasn’t been battling a fever and a nightmare, she has bad days when everything is too strange or just too much for her to handle. But instead of getting more upset, Eri turns just enough to peek up at Yagi from behind a thick curtain of hair. She waves meekly to him once.

“She’s been sick since last night, and nothing I’ve done has gotten her fever down,” Shouta says instead of a greeting. “Could you look after her for a little while I get Recov-”

Before Shouta can finish his question, Eri’s arms tighten around him and she shakes her head, kicking weakly against him.

Yagi smiles softly, stepping back to open the door wider. “Why don’t you both come in, and I’ll see if I can’t get ahold of Recovery Girl another way.”

Yagi leads them through the kitchen to the living room. There’s an old standing record player pushed against the wall playing something soft and low. The rest of Yagi’s décor has been updated, as well. There’s a new table in the middle of the room with a cup of tea and some papers, as well as a thick book full of brightly colored tabs. The couch, where he gestures for Shouta to sit with Eri, now has a  shocking number of pillows piled on it and a few brightly colored blankets thrown over the back. Yagi makes sure they’re both comfortable, or as comfortable as they can be, before he goes to call Recovery Girl. Shouta can just barely make out the low timbre of his voice in the other room as he talks.

“Yagi is going to get a doctor to come check on you, but she’s a friend, nothing to be afraid of.” Shouta tells Eri quietly, brushing back her hair. It’s damp with sweat and sticks to her in messy clumps. “Do you remember Recovery Girl?”

After a moment, Eri nods against him.

Yagi returns before Shouta can ask something else, his phone pressed against his chest as he crouches down besides the couch. He looks between them.

“Recovery Girl wanted to know if there was anything else besides her fever?”

“Her quirk started up after a nightmare, that’s when it started. And she hasn’t been able to keep anything down.”

As Shouta finishes talking, Eri signs to him. Pressed against Shouta as she is, it takes him a moment to realize what she’s trying to do.

Almost immediately after they were (pretty) sure they weren’t going to lose their jobs at U.A., Hizashi pitched a fit that sign language was still not a required part of the curriculum for hero students, protesting and appealing to school boards and other pro heroes until things changed and people saw the sense in heroes being able to communicate, not only silently with themselves if there was a need, but with any deaf, hard of hearing, or nonverbal civilians a hero might interact with during a job, and hero programs across the country slowly began adding it to the curriculum.

Shortly after Eri came to live with him fulltime, they began to teach her sign language as well, not only so that she might be able to communicate with Hizashi no matter what, but also because they quickly realized sometimes she had bad days and talking, holding full conversations was just too much for her to handle. Even just simple signs like “yes,” “no,” “food,” and “drink,” made navigating those bad days a thousand times easier.

Shouta tilts his head as she signs again, hoping to see enough of the movement to interpret for Yagi when he picks the phone back up and says, “She says her chest hurts. Aizawa said it started after a nightmare that triggered her quirk and that she hasn’t been able to keep anything down.”

Shouta blinks a few times in surprise, but Yagi doesn’t acknowledge him. He nods a few times while Recovery Girl talks on the other end. Eventually, he thanks her and ends the call.

“Recovery Girl said to try and make her as comfortable as possible, and to try and get some food into her, but I don’t have any medicine safe enough for someone so young, so she’ll bring some by soon.”

“Thank you.”

Yagi smiles softly at Shouta’s quiet thanks. He rises to his feet, muttering mostly to himself, a habit Shouta is sure he’s picked up from Midoriya, about what he has on hand to help Eri feel better. He leans down to brush a comforting hand over Eri’s head. His hand is giant against her tiny body, but she leans into the touch rather than shying away. Yagi hesitates, and for a moment, Shouta thinks he’s going to get a similar, gentle touch before Yagi steps away, promising to return in a moment.

Shouta repositions himself on the couch so they can recline, but Eri still refuses to let go of him, and eventually he has to accept letting Yagi take care of them. Yagi helps replace a cooling patch on Eri’s forehead, wiping down her face and neck with a soft washcloth as best he can. He asks Eri a few times if she wants something to eat, or if anything sounds good to her, but her sleepy, subdued signing in reply doesn’t give him much of an answer. Yagi, thankfully, takes it all in stride, running another gentle hand over her back.

“That’s alright. I happen to be an expert now at making yummy things, even when food doesn’t sound good. Do you trust me?”

And for the first time in almost two days, Shouta hears Eri’s quiet voice again in a soft “yes.”

Yagi shares a triumphant smile with Shouta before he offers a pinky to Eri. “I’ll cook you something that makes you feel better in no time, okay?”

Eri reaches out to complete the pinky-promise, her tiny finger barely able to bend around his.

 Shouta doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he wakes up again. He’s disoriented for a moment, trying to remember where he is and why he isn’t in his own home. He’s used to dozing off in random places, stealing a few minutes of sleep where he can, but falling deeply, completely asleep in somewhere other than home feels...wrong. The quiet record still playing in the corner is what brings him back. Yagi’s apartment. Eri isn’t lying against his chest any more, but when he sits up, looking for her, he sees Yagi on the opposite end of the couch, the small girl cradled against his chest, fast asleep. His eyes are closed, but he rubs slow circles over her back, humming quietly along with the music, so Shouta knows he’s awake.

“How is she?”

To his credit, Yagi doesn’t startle at Shouta’s sudden question. “A little cooler.” He nods to a bowl on the table. “She managed to keep down about half a serving of porridge and some water. Chiyo…Recovery Girl just left a little while ago.”

“You could have woken me.”

“You looked like you could use some rest. I’m sure you’ve been up with her the whole time.”

Shouta doesn’t bother to acknowledge that, he’s right, of course. “I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Yagi looks away, considering. “When I was still…new, I was trying to help a young woman who was trapped, but she was deaf and couldn’t understand me, barely recognized me. I think I scared her more than I helped her at first,” he admits with a laugh. “I realized there was something I had overlooked in my drive to help people, people I had overlooked, and I wanted to rectify that.” He finally turns to look at Shouta. “I’m not fluent, I let my skills…atrophy a little these last few years, and even before I didn’t dedicate as much time as I could have. But parts of the body, pain or injuries, those were important for me to learn…and easier to remember.”

“…if you ever wanted to brush up on your skills, I could help you.”

Yagi laughs quietly. “Always the sensei, Aizawa.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. But I appreciate the offer. I would love to work on it more with you.”

Shouta doesn’t know why the word choice makes him feel suddenly flustered, but he has to look away, willing his quirk not to activate at his strange embarrassment.

“You’re good with her,” he says, changing the subject instead of acknowledging it.

Yagi doesn’t reply for a while and when Shouta looks to him again, he could swear it looks like the other man is blushing. Yagi’s expression is incredibly fond as he looks down at the sleeping girl, thankfully undisturbed by their conversation.

“I was worried I frightened her.”

“You did, at first.” Shouta confirms. There’s no point in beating around the bush. “She just needed time to get to know you better. To know she could trust you.”

Shouta isn’t oblivious to how easily his statement could be applied to himself and his relationship with Yagi. If Yagi’s expression is anything to go by, he’s also aware of the similarities between them, but he has the decency not to call him out on it.

X

Winter

I was a wolf, dear, apart from the pack But you answered my call in the dead of the night And told me you had my back, oh I can’t do this alone anymore Cause I’m not good on my own anymore -I Was An Island, Allison Weiss

“You know more about Midoriya’s quirk than you’re letting on.”

It’s an accusation. For that matter, it’s an accusation based on little more than a hunch. But the way Yagi freezes up, immediately, tensed like he’s deciding between fight or flight right there just about confirms all of Shouta’s suspicions. Or, at least, most of them.

“Ai-Aizawa, I didn’t see you there…” Yagi mumbles, slowly turning to face him.

Shouta crosses his arms and waits.

“Was there a…question?” Yagi asks eventually, when he can’t seem to take squirming under Shouta’s intense glare any longer.

“What is going on with Midoriya’s quirk?”

Yagi glances at something behind Shouta’s head, as if looking for an escape, but Shouta could definitely catch him if he tried to make a break for it past him, and he knows no one followed them into the lounge. Yagi wrings his hands nervously in front of him. Shouta knows he wants to go check on Midoriya, but he’s hoping that sense of urgency will speed up this conversation. It’s been a long time coming now, and Shouta is getting some answers.

“I can assure you, Aizawa, I didn’t know young Midoriya’s quirk could…or would produce something like that.”

Shouta leans against a desk. “I’m not buying it. You know something.”

Finally, Yagi seems to grow tired of being on the opposite side of the interrogation because there’s a fire in his eyes that hasn’t been there in a while, that Shouta realizes he…missed seeing there, as Yagi advances on him across the room.

“Where was this concern for him when his quirk was going out of control during the lesson today?”

Shouta brushes off the accusation. The second time Midoriya’s quirk had acted up, it was Yagi, after all, who insisted they let the students keep going. “We both know his explanation about power just overwhelming him is bullshit. We’ve seen what happens to Midoriya’s body when his quirk is overpowered and it’s not whatever that was.”

Yagi’s hands clench in fists at his sides and he looks away from Shouta, clenching his jaw. He reminds Shouta a little of the Yagi from a few months ago, the wild-eyed frustration welling up inside him to a breaking point. He’s just missing the blood and flooding bathroom.

Some part of Shouta feels a little guilty, intentionally pushing Yagi near to a breaking point, but this has been going on for far too long. Shouta had been prepared to send Midoriya home from day one, and from day one Midoriya, and Yagi, had been trying to convince him not to.

“Could it be you see the potential in Midoriya, as well?” All Might had asked Shouta after the first class training exercise, when Midoriya proved he could use his quirk without completely incapacitating himself for the rest of the fight. Shouta had wanted to brush the comment off, but the ‘as well’ echoed around in his head for days. How did All Might know anything about this one, random, incoming first-year? And why was he so invested in him? Why did he care about Shouta seeing his potential?

After that, it was impossible to miss the odd behavior between the two. They were constantly together, darting around corners and whispering in the backs of rooms, having lunch together when Midoriya should have been spending more time socializing with his classmates.

Even the other teachers began to notice something. He still remembers the first time someone had joked during a night out about the two being related. Yagi had almost choked on his drink, while Hizashi laughed, drunkenly, gleefully telling them about the conversation he had overheard from students that Todoroki apparently once accused Midoriya of being All Might’s secret lovechild.

If it was one or the other – some odd behavior or similar quirks – Shouta thinks he would be able to brush it off, put it out of his mind, but too many things keep adding up to there being a connection between the two of them. He just can’t, for the life of him, figure out what that connection is.

“I can’t help if I don’t know the whole story,” Shouta finally changes tactics, hoping he can appeal to some part of Yagi. “You’re both keeping secrets, badly, but Midoriya has been struggling with his quirk since he started at U.A. If there’s something about his quirk…” Shouta sighs, frustrated. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Silence stretches on between them. Shouta is starting to brainstorm a new approach when Yagi seems to deflate in front of him, body sagging against the desks beside them. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends of his bangs in a nervous tick.

Finally, finally, he says, “What happened at the training exercise today was a surprise to me too. I didn’t know it could happen…I…I have a theory, now, but until it happened today, I never even would have thought it was possible.”

Shouta lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relieved. “I can work with a theory.”

“I think it was someone else’s quirk.”

What?

If Midoriya had a quirk like Monoma and could somehow “borrow” other’s abilities, it could maybe explain similarities between his quirk and All Might’s power before he retired, but no one in either of the hero course classes had a quirk anything like what Midoriya had displayed today. There was no way he could have borrowed that from anyone recently. And before now, Shouta would have been out of other explanations past that. Now, he thinks about the Nomus they’ve interacted with, the…monsters made up of different quirks, and of Shirakumo and Kurogiri. And he feels a little sick to his stomach at the possible implications.

“What? How would Midoriya have someone else’s quirk? Whose quirk would he have?”

Yagi makes a complicated expression. “Someone from a long time ago.” He says.

Shouta isn’t sure if he wants to pull out his own hair or shake the older man for such an unbelievably unhelp answer.

“Yagi,” Shouta hasn’t figured out what he even wants to say yet, but just his name is enough to finally make Yagi look at him.

“Young Midoirya’s quirk is registered as ‘Super-Power’ in public records, but the true name of his quirk is ‘One for All.’ It’s a quirk that can be cultivated and passed on to someone else. And it was my quirk until I gave it to him when he was fourteen.”

Shouta is half convinced he’s in a dream. “You…gave him your quirk?”

Yagi nods. “Just as my master gave it to me before I started at U.A.”

“So before…”

“Midoriya was quirkless.”

Well that at least explained a few of his, and Bakugo’s, weird behaviors at the beginning of the year. Not everything, by any means, but enough.

Shouta realizes this is another secret he can’t unlearn, only this is one he walked into knowingly. He knew he was pushing for something serious, something to be guarded the same way Yagi hid his injury. It was the only thing that made sense, the pieces fall into place perfectly, filling all the holes in his and Midoriya’s pasts.

Shouta hates to ask the next question, he’s not sure it’s entirely relevant, but he needs all the information he can get to start making sense of things. Yagi seems to know what he wants to ask next, however, because he offers more information before Shouta can figure out how to word what he wants to say next.

“I was also quirkless before being given One for All,” Yagi admits. “I think it’s partially what enamored me to Midoriya. I saw something of myself in the young boy.”

And that’s perhaps the least surprising thing Shouta’s heard today. You’d have to be oblivious to miss the similarities between the two, even with their quirk taken out of the equation.

“So you knew what would happen to him until he gained control?”

Yagi grimaces at the question, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Not exactly. The quirk naturally has an effect on the body, because you aren’t born with adaptations to it, but it is also just a lot to handle. If you aren’t properly trained and prepared for it, it could, theoretically…blow the user’s body apart from the inside. But after my training, I had no problem accessing one hundred percent of the power. Meanwhile…well, you’ve seen what happens to young Midoriya when he uses one hundred percent, even now.”

Shouta closes his eyes for a moment and takes a few deep, calming breaths. There is still so much more information he needs about Yagi and Midoriya and their quirk, now is not the time for him to blow up over that particular detail. Later, definitely, but not now.

When he opens his eyes again, Yagi is glancing nervously between him and the clock on the wall. “Aizawa,” he says, and it half sounds like a plea. “I know you must have more questions, but-”

“You want to go check on Midoriya.” Obviously. “I’m coming with you.”

Yagi gives a wryly smile. “I thought as much.”

He leads Shouta to a private office down the hall. The door opens to reveal Midoriya and Bakugo waiting for them. Bakugo’s presence is a surprise, but if he shares the same feeling he doesn’t show it. Midoriya, on the other hand, jumps to his feet when he sees the two teachers, looking between them nervously until Yagi holds up a pacifying hand.

“It’s alright, young Midoriya. Aizawa knows now.”

Midoriya continues to react to things in ways that confuse Shouta, rather than relaxing or appearing relieved, he makes a complicated expression, wringing his hands together nervously as he retakes his seat.

Bakugo scoffs, slouching even further in his seat.

“I’m surprised it took you two dumbasses this long to ask for his help. Obviously you were hopeless on your own.”

“Yes, well…” Yagi trails off with an awkward cough, a bright blush high on his cheeks as he fusses with something on the other side of the room.

Shouta sees the two boys exchange a look on the couch, and it’s obvious if they didn’t already know, they definitely now know that Yagi was not the one doing any asking.

 It feels like hours have passed by the time they dismiss the boys back to the dorms. Shouta’s head is still spinning with all the new information he learned, and all the theories about the quirk and how it’s developing. He’s a little in awe of, and a little frightened for, Midoriya if he is already unlocking more of One for All than All Might ever did. He can’t even imagine how strong of a hero he might become, but it’s obvious, now, what a toll that kind of power, that kind of secret, took on Yagi and he’s concerned about how it might, or might already be, affecting Midoriya.

It’s quiet between them for a long time after the students have left while they both dwell on everything that had been discussed tonight.

Finally, Shouta breaks the silence. “I know you had no reason to trust me with a huge secret about yourself, but you could have come up with some kind of…lie about Midoriya, so I could have helped you both earlier.”

Yagi laughs humorlessly besides him. “I still don’t think I could have come up with a convincing enough lie, or one that you wouldn’t have seen through immediately.” He looks down at his hands. “Even then, I don’t know if I could have brought myself to come to you for help.’

Shouta’s first instinct is to ask why, but he’s not an idiot. He’s well aware he didn’t make the start of the year easy for Midoriya or Yagi.

“I know that’s shameful,” Yagi continues, quieter. “To have too much pride to ask you for help with a student-”

“Yagi,” Shouta interrupts, seriously. “There’s a lot you handled…badly, or just plain wrong, with Midoriya. But I was an asshole to you when we started working together. I made snap judgements about you. And, frankly, teaching is hard. I was clueless when I first started. I should have tried to help you more.” Shouta sighs, taking a deep breath. This apology has been a long time coming, but still it’s hard to get it all out at once. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you in the beginning, and…I’m sorry for making this harder for the both you without realizing it.”

Yagi stares at him, astonished. Obviously when this revelation first happened in the teacher’s lounge, the last thing he ever anticipated happening was Shouta apologizing. But it needed to happen the same as this secret needed to come out. They were supposed to be partners when it came to teaching this class, and it would just keep getting harder to do that with so much unsaid between them.

“I…Thank, thank you.”

Shouta has to look away, he can’t bring himself to see whatever expression accompanies such raw emotion. And he forces down the guilt that wonders why such a simple apology brings about such a reaction. It won’t do him any good to dwell on the past, he just has to do better in the future. They both do.

“What’s important now is that going forward we’ll figure these things out, together.”

Yagi nods, sounding more than a little mystified as he agrees, “Together.”

X

Spring

Oh, be here when I sleep When I dream, when the devils meet Oh, be here when I wake up When I wake up, when I wake up Whatever makes you stay Whatever makes yu smile Whatever makes you come and be with me a while -Whatever Makes You Mine, John Van Deusen

Shouta has every intention of going straight for his own dorm and passing out after his patrol. It’s late enough that Eri should be asleep and he doesn’t need to wake her just to carry her a few feet down the hall to her own room in his apartment. But as he’s swinging by the building, he can’t help but notice the light is still on in Toshinori’s room. Surprised that Toshinori would still be awake at this hour, Shouta drops down onto his balcony, peering in through the glass door. The small living room is dark and he can only make out the faintest shapes with the campus lights behind him. Shouta debates with himself for a moment before he lets himself in through the sliding door.

Eri’s coloring books and crayons are spread out across the small coffee table besides what Shouta is pretty sure are Toshinori’s unfinished grades. Part of him wishes Toshinori would encourage Eri to clean up after herself a little more, but he knows that’s a losing battle with Toshinori. They both like to see the young girl more comfortable in her living spaces, and Toshinori is too soft on her to impart any real discipline. And when Shouta thinks of the first time he saw Toshinori’s apartment, the cold, empty space that barely seemed worthy of being called a home, he understands why Toshinori waves him off of trying to clean up. “I like the mess,” Toshinori admitted once with a laugh. “It makes it feel lived in.”  

Shouta leaves the mess in the living room as it is and goes to the spare room first. Eri is fast asleep in the extra bed. Even just a twin mattress seems giant with the small girl curled up near the top of it, surrounded on all sides by pillows and stuffed animals. He recognizes a few she must have brought with her from his apartment, but the rest are ones just for Toshinori’s. The night light Toshinori got for the nights she stays over casts small stars across the room. A few of them shine against her pale hair.

Closing the door quietly behind him, Shouta continues down the hall towards Toshinori’s room. The door is cracked, an open invitation for Eri to come in if she needs something, and it leaves a sliver of light across the hallway floor. Shouta knocks on the open door, but Toshinori never replies. Confused, Shouta pushes the door open the rest of the way.

He finds Toshinori sleeping more soundly than he’s ever known the ex-hero to be in the time they’ve known each other. He's sprawled on top of the duvet, head below the pillows and one foot hanging off the bed. In a loose t-shirt and faded blue jeans, it doesn’t look remotely comfortable, and yet he looks so peaceful, Shouta is hesitant to wake him. For once his sleep doesn’t seem to be interrupted by wracking coughs or twisted nightmares.

Shouta rummages, as politely as possible, through the closet for a blanket. He drapes it carefully over Toshinori, making sure it falls over the foot hanging off the bed, and around his bare arms. Shouta swears it seems like his hands are moving on their own as he brushes Toshinori’s wild bangs away from his face.

The man beneath him stirs, and Shouta freezes, hand still curled to tuck Toshinori’s bangs behind his ear. Bright blue eyes blink open, but there’s something unfamiliar and hazy as they flit over Shouta’s face. A slow smile spills across Toshinori’s lips and it’s the softest smile Shouta’s ever seen on him.

“Shouta!” Toshinori says in a sleepy whisper that makes something in Shouta’s chest squeeze. Toshinori must still be asleep. That didn’t explain everything perhaps, like the use of his given name or that dreamy smile, but God it certainly left fewer questions for all of that than if he was awake. “What are you doing here?”

“Just giving you another blanket. Go back to sleep.” Shouta snaps quickly, pulling his hands back.

Toshinori catches his wrist before he can move too far. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says with another one of those gut-twisting smiles. “You should rest too.”

Toshinori shifts on the mattress, not that there wasn’t already plenty of room - the bed was unreasonably large even if Toshinori’s unreasonably long body didn’t fit quite right - and tugs gently on his arm. Shouta had every intention of arguing with him on the matter, so he has absolutely no idea what possesses him to listen to Toshinori and lie down besides him.

Satisfied, and perhaps even a little smug, Toshinori pulls part of the blanket to drape over Shouta’s shoulders as well.

“Okay, go back to sleep now.” Shouta insists stiffly, already making a plan of escape for once Toshinori is unconscious again.

Instead, Toshinori reaches out, cradling Shouta’s face in one of his large hands. Shouta feels his entire body freeze, he’s not even entirely sure he’s breathing, as Toshinori touches him ever so gently. A thumb runs carefully under his eye, as if Toshinori could sweep away the bags there with a single touch.

“I know this is just a dream,” Toshinori says softly, his fingers feather light as they trace over Shouta’s skin. “But I hope the real you can feel just a little more rested for it.”

“I’m…I’m sure I will.” Shouta swallows thickly. “So don’t worry so much and sleep.”

Toshinori finally, finally, takes his hand back and Shouta can breathe a little easier. He snuggles deeper into the blanket, closing his eyes.

“Good night, Shouta.”

Shouta doesn’t dare speak again until he knows he is fully asleep. Carefully extracting himself from the blanket, he folds it back over the sleeping man on the bed.

“Good night, Toshinori.”

Shouta moves on autopilot back to his own dorm, not even fully sure of the path he takes or who he might have passed on the way. His mind is still in Toshinori’s room, in bed beside him. He lied to Toshinori. There’s absolutely no way the “real him” was getting any rest tonight. Not with the memory of his gentle touch and soft smile still fresh in his memory.

Shouta only just barely registers the whistle from behind him as he unlocks his door. Turning around, he finds Hizashi standing in his open doorway across the hall. With a teasing grin, Hizashi makes a show of looking at his (watch-less) wrist to check the time and whistling again. Hizashi is far too…awake for someone in a robe and bunny slippers at three in the morning, Shouta decides.

“Coming home so late, Shou? And in the same jumpsuit from yesterday? What were you up to, hm?”

“I’m always in the same jumpsuit.” Shouta mutters, already regretting acknowledging him.

Hizashi slides up next to him, leaning against the wall to look him in the eye. “And the late hour? The sneaking in?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Shouta still curses the day Kayama taught him that.

“I work late hours. And not all of us can make as much as noise as you do.” Shouta pushes open his door and takes a step in, hoping, despite what all prior experience has taught him, that Hizashi will take a hint.

“But you weren’t still working, were you? You were with a certain someone-”

“Go to bed, Mic.” Shouta interrupts as he feels his quirk activate, shutting his door before the blond can push any further. He can hear Hizashi’s laughter even through the closed door.

He waves at his face, willing the heat to leave his cheeks and for his stupid quirk to deactivate and stop giving him away with glowing eyes and floating hair like some damn anime character. How could he be more embarrassed being caught coming home from, what, tucking Toshinori into bed, than he would have been from an actual walk of shame?

X

Summer

 I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved mysel Like a force to be reckoned with A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss I will love you without any strings attached -Two, Sleeping at Last

The evening air is cooling down, a reprieve from the last few sweltering summer days as Shouta steps outside the dorm. He isn’t sure when he got so good at understanding Toshinori or predicting his behavior, but he already knows where to find him when he realizes the old hero is missing after the class dinner. And sure enough, he finds him on the bench outside the dorm. The setting sun sets his light hair aglow.

Toshinori seems to hear him coming because he turns around to watch Shouta before he says anything.

“It’s not that cold out tonight, Aizawa-sensei,” Toshinori says instead of a greeting. “You can’t scold me for being out in the cold this time.”

Shouta rolls his eyes at the accusation as he approaches the bench. “Not everything out of my mouth is a scolding.”

Toshinori stares hard at him for a moment, and Shouta can’t meet his eyes when Toshinori replies, strangely quiet, with “I know.”

Toshinori shifts further down the bench, making room for Shouta to sit besides him. Silence settles between them as they sit together, watching the vibrant pink of the sky slowly be overtaken with a pale violet.

“The first time I found you out here, you told me you had decided to live again,” Shouta says, breaking the quiet between them.

“Why are you bringing that up again?” Toshinori asks, almost in a whine, turning away from Shouta for a moment as if embarrassed. It feels so long ago that they had that conversation, when they agreed to train Eri together, though its become more like co-parenting, and when they both truly bared some of their souls to each other, but Shouta remembers it all so clearly. Especially Toshinori’s first confession.

He’d seen the hints of it before, the emptiness of Toshinori’s apartment, his baggy clothes that didn’t fit his new life, the causal dismissals of himself and his health. But that confession brought all those strange quirks about the number one hero into jarring clarity, painting a coherent picture of the life he had that Shouta was willfully ignorant of before. His new dedication to life is so obvious in comparison. The person on the bench besides him is not the same one Shouta started working with a year ago.

“You seem just as serious now,” he admits. “I’m wondering what other new revelations you’ve come to.”

Shouta doesn’t expect Toshinori to reply at all, let alone clue him in on any of those new revelations if he has come to them. Toshinori doesn’t owe him anything, let alone an insight to his most intimate thoughts, but after a long moment, Toshinori takes a deep breath as if preparing for a large declaration.

Instead he looks down at his hands and says softly, “I’ve been thinking about a lot recently but I’m still confused and torn about most of it.” Toshinori pauses for a moment and Shouta knows there is so much more that isn’t being said. But he doesn’t know how to help Toshinori say it, if that’s even what he really needs from him, so he just reaches for him instead. His hand against Toshinori’s is dwarfed in a way he doesn’t think he will ever get used to. But even bony and thin as they are now, the skin scarred and knuckles crooked from repeated breaks, not unlike his student’s, those hands still feel safe to Shouta. Those hands helped him carry the weight of the world for all those years and they show the strain that weight left on him. But they are still gentle. Their touch is soft enough to wipe the tears from Eri’s cheeks after her latest nightmare. Their touch is tender enough to ruffle their students’ hair and send their worries away without leaving behind any of that weight.

Toshinori’s hands are safe, and Shouta can’t help but wonder who held them when he was young and helped make them that way. Who taught him to use such strength and gentleness in tandem.

“You don’t have to have all the answers,” Shouta finally says. “I know sometimes it feels like we have to, when the students are counting on us, nothing feels more like a failure than having to admit you don’t know, but you don’t have to have all the answers. Especially not right now, not here with me.”

Toshinori looks up from their hands. His expression is raw and open, but also incredibly soft and fond, and Shouta doesn’t feel capable enough to be on the receiving end of such a look.

“I’m still confused and torn,” Toshinori starts again, softer this time. “But one thing that I know for sure, is I’m tired of listening to my anxieties and worries. I’m tired of doing my best to ignore all the things I’ve wanted. I’ve decided I want to just follow my heart, but to do that I will have to be a little selfish, so…I’m sorry.”

Shouta thinks if anyone deserves a chance to be selfish, if anyone has earned that, it’s Toshinori. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Yagi. You can be a little selfish sometimes.”

“Then…can I love you, Shouta?”

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello. Your writing is very capturing. I spent last night on reading all your stuff and here I am, in your ask box. Especially the illiterate!Geralt is a good read. I saw a few hc about the witchers being unsettled by Jaskier being well... Jaskier and with no fear approach them and talk to them. After a while they started wondering if Jaskier is a human, but they can't smell magic on him. What he really is? How he managed to fool a witcher?

Welcome to my ask box Nonnie, it is a delight to have you here! Even better, you bring a prompt that has my little heart singing because writing about Jaskier and all the witchers is something I am rapidly falling in love with. So thank you, you have truly made my day.

While the continent was big, it was still rather limited in terms of numbers of contracts. So it was only natural that from time to time Geralt bumped into a fellow witcher. Sometimes he got there first, other times there was only a drink at a tavern to be had and maybe some quiet company if it was a fellow wolf he encountered. The perk of having Jaskier alongside him was that even if he missed out on a contract, Jaskier could earn their keep and food if coin was short. So there was no longer a vicious competition between him and other witchers which was such a nice change of pace. There was no worry that if he got to a contract late, he would have to spend the next however many nights in the woods and hunting for food because he couldn’t afford a meal at a tavern.

Sometimes Geralt would still be in the stable with Roach while Jaskier went ahead to get them a room and some food. Which was how Geralt walked into the inn and frowned when Jaskier wasn’t visible at the bar. Looking around, he wasn’t too difficult to spot, sitting opposite...Eskel?! Pleasant surprise flooded Geralt at the sight of a fellow wolf and he walked over. Already, Jaskier seemed to have made a new friend in the form of the other witcher and was chattering away, demanding details from a fight. He even looked horrified when he spotted the bloody bandage peeking out from under Eskel’s sleeve.

“Oh you poor thing,” Jaskier was reaching for Eskel’s arm without any hesitation and Geralt saw the surprise from the other witcher. Hell, he could even smell the suspicion and confusion coming off him.

“Maybe this would be better done in a room than where people might be trying to enjoy some food,” Geralt suggested. “Not everyone can eat after seeing a bloody arm.”

“Yes! Have a bath called up for us, would you?” Jaskier looked at Geralt with a smile before turning back to Eskel and guiding him up atairs. “And don’t forget to have dinner brought up too!”

By the time Geralt got to the room, Jaskier had gently bullied Eskel into showing the wyvern bite to him and was fussing over it. Above Jaskier’s head, Eskel sought out Geralt’s gaze with confusion.

Later that night, Geralt had a rather interesting conversation with Eskel, mostly consisting of “he doesn’t even smell of fear” to which the only reply was “he never did”.

They parted ways and Jaskier made sure Eskel had plenty of supplies and coin, sharing what he could of his own despite protestations.

Funnily enough, Lambert was next. Once again, Geralt had been preoccupied, this time he was sharpening his swords when the music died down sooner than expected. However, there was no sound of fighting or arguing so obviously Jaskier hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. Yet. When he didn’t go upstairs to their room, Geralt decided to venture down to make sure nothing untoward was happening. Like that time Jaskier had convinced the whole tavern to play some kind of strip card game that Geralt still didn’t understand and, quite frankly, didn’t really want to either.

The sight that greeted Geralt was both better and worse than anything he could have anticipated. Jaskier was in the corner, sitting at a table and opposite him was Lambert. Who was pressed up against the wall like a cornered cat and staring at Jaskier in horror and disgust while the bard talked his ear off. He seemed to be utterly oblivious to the fact Lambert looked ready to bolt.

“Lambert,” Geralt greeted and there was a visible drop in anxieties.

“Geralt. This is-”

“Jaskier, I know. He’s with me.” Turning to Jaskier, Geralt pulled his coin pouch out. “Charm the barkeep into three strong ales, would you?”

As soon as Jaskier was away from the table, Lambert was leaning closer.

“What the hell is wrong with him? He just walked up to the table, sat down and started talking! He does realise we’re witchers, right?” He gestured towards Jaskier’s back. Geralt’s sigh of “yes” didn’t seem to help. Lambert ranted on. “I can do monsters, creatures and spirits. But whatever that is, it’s not human and it scares the shit out of me. Not even an whiff of fear or hesitation.”

“It’s just Jaskier. He’s friendly.” Geralt shrugged. He’d been there, the confusion and distrust at the absolute lack of any negative reaction from Jaskier. But he’d grown used to it.

“You keep the contract, I’m skipping out.” Lambert made to move and got almost to the door when Jaskier got back to the table and called his name. Like a dog caught stealing a sausage, Lambert slunk back sheepishly. At least he got ale out of it even if he had to sit through the most terrifying conversation of his life. Jaskier could talk, he’d give him that.

By morning, Lambert was gone and Jaskier pouted at the fact he couldn’t bid farewell to his newest friend properly.

Last but not least was Vesemir who they encountered on a dusty road between nameless towns.

“I’ve heard of you,” he told Jaskier who had been prancing around as he played his newest song. It had been stuck in his head for days, taking shape and now he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Alas I have not been granted similar privileges. Please forgive me, darling grey wolf. I am ignorant not through lack of interest but rather lack of sources.” Jaskier cast Geralt a side glance.

He was treated to a long, hard look by Vesemir who also took a subtle sniff of the air as he took a step closer to Jaskier. “They were right.”

Who the mysterious “they” were and what they were right about was a mystery to Jaskier but he wasn’t going to get answers because Vesemir nodded at them. “See you for the winter.”

As he turned to continue his path, Jaskier shouted after him. “Just a small token for our brief yet passionate meeting!” With that, he presented Vesemir a handkerchief in a flourish. Once again, the old witcher’s eyes drifted to Geralt before taking the offering, tucking it into his armour and turning with a nod.

“So, where are we going for winter?” Jaskier asked, hopping a lttle to catch back up with Geralt.

Kaer Morhen. That was the answer and Jaskier excitedly bustled through the doors. He and Geralt got set up in a room before making their way down to the others.

“Friends!” Jaskier yelled, arms in the air as he took in the three familiar witchers. “It is so good to see you again.”

He went around to hug all the witchers to varying degrees of success. While Eskel returned the hug with a small, entertained smile, Lambert was doing his best impression of a terrified statue. For his part, Vesemir accepted the hug but wasn’t too enthused by it.

Witchers didn’t need to sleep a lot so it wasn’t all that unusual for them to gather around a fire and talk late into the night. At first, Jaskier had tried to keep up but he needed sleep and often ended up fast asleep in Geralt’s lap while the others talked.

“I’ve never met anyone like him.” Eskel nodded towards Jaskier’s sleeping form.

“Not natural,” Lambert added. He had been doing his best to keep out the way as much as possible.

Even Vesemir weighed in, “He’s certainly a rarity. There’s no magic around him. No stench of enchantment or even the scent of a beast.”

“He’s plain old human,” Geralt said. “And just seems to have no concept of self-preservation around others. But trust me, he does feel fear.”

Which was how they ended up trying to find out what did elicit a response from Jaskier. Lambert’s idea of drinking a potion and wandering around with black eyes and veins backfired somewhat when Jaskier got ready to trek out with him to the fight he was no doubt preparing for.

Inviting Jaskier to train and spar hadn’t worked out either. No matter how much Eskel threw him around, disarmed him in more and more brutal ways and held swords to his throat, not once did Jaskier ever smell anything but tired.

Nobody was prepared for the ear splitting shriek one morning. It was definitely Jaskier but he hit a pitch even Geralt was stunned by. They all went rushing to the bathroom  to see what had happened. Bursting in, Jaskier was standing in the tub, suds sliding off his head and clutching a cloth to himself while Vesemir looked just as stunned, holding a basket of laundry.

“What happened?” Eskel asked.

“I was merely here to hang up some clean clothes,” Vesemir replied.

“There I was,” Jaskier’s voice was still breathy with fright, “taking a nice bath and washing. Only to turn around and he was there. I’m putting a bell on you!”

The air was sour with his calming fear and, oddly, it seemed to settle the witchers. No longer was Jaskier some ethereal being without a single thing in the world that could scare him. From then on, both Lambert and Eskel seemed to take great delight in sneaking up on Jaskier and trying to scare him. There was something so soothing about knowing Jaskier could still be frightened to the point of outraged screeching. Especially when he cottoned on to the game and, once he was over the initial panic, he chased after the culprit until he could jump on their backs, smacking them playfully over the head until Geralt prised him off.

Even Lambert seemed a little more comfortable now that he knew Jaskier wasn’t infallible. By the end of winter, he was unofficially crowned winner of scaring Jaskier the most. Not that it was ever a race between him and Eskel. They absolutely didn’t have a tally hidden in the library with bonus points awarded for exceptionally memorable screams.

[aewhore]

Drunk in love ~ Orange Cassidy x reader (NSFW)

REQUEST BY : @bestfriendshypewoman​  (I hope you like it!!!)

Summary: You go out to the bar with Adam after Revolution 2020, You and Orange get tipsy and you both get very handsy and flirty. You both end up back in your hotel room and it gets juicy. ;)    

Word count: 3500

Revolution had come and gone and it had been the best ppv for AEW so far. You had defended your AEW women's championship against one of your closest friends Kris Statlander. The saying in pro wrestling that “you hit harder when you're fighting your friends” never rang truer than when you and Kris stepped in the ring against one another. It was a hard hitting, fast paced match and it helped a lot that the crowd was electric the entire time. Signing with AEW was the best decision you had ever made in the last 15 years of your career, you were doing your best work and it was only getting better as your title reign continued.   

Hopping between different indie promotions means you made friends all over the world but sadly you didn't get to see them as often as you would like until now. That being said you also saw the people you didn't like a lot more often. Such people included the cooler than cool Orange Cassidy. It's not that you hated Cassidy, it's just he rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn't a one way street though, Cassidy wasn’t your biggest fan either. He would leave the room if you entered, he would ignore you if you both ever got stuck in a conversation together but now you were both in the same promotion so you did what any rational adults would do, and completely ignored each other like the plague.

So after your blockbuster match with Kris, you were bruised and beaten up as you prepared to leave the arena and return to your warm, soft bed back at the hotel. However just as you went to leave Hangman Adam Page came into your dressing room. “Hey Y/N, heck of a match tonight, congrats on successfully defending that title” He says as he gives you a congratulatory hug. You and Adam had been friends for many years, ever since ROH when Adam debuted and you were in a singles match on the main card. You had approached Adam after the show and you both immediately became great friends. “Speak for yourself! You just had an easy 5 star match and you're taking home the belt as well, I owe you many congratulations.” You laugh as you pat Adam on the back. “I don't know how you're still standing either, I'm absolutely exhausted and I can't wait to collapse back at the hotel” you confess to Adam as you go back to packing up your gear bag. “So you would be up for a champion’s celebratory beer at the bar?” You turn back to Adam to see him hiding a smirk like he already knew you answer. “Adam, I wanna go to bed.” you whine as Adam starts to give those puppy dog eyes of his. “Come on Y/N, were drinking buddies! You wouldn't want a cowboy to drink all by his lonesome after we’ve both had such a successful night” Adam did give some good points. The second you hesitated to think about it, Adam broke out into a smile.  “Great! I'll meet you in the hotel bar in 30 minutes” before you could argue Adam was already walking out giving you no option but to go drinking with your favourite southern boy.

You arrived back at the hotel to dump your luggage off back at your room first, while you were there you changed from your sweatshirt into a nice top so even if you didn't feel the best you might as well look the best. You left your room and headed towards the elevator. As you wait for the elevator, you reply to Adam’s text asking if you were on your way and if he should order you something to have it waiting for you when you get there. You got onto the first elevator that came, still on your phone you glanced up to push the button as you hit send on your demands for a free drink for Adam in exchange for your missing sleep.  You put your phone back into your pocket when you see you're not alone in the elevator, you were joined by all 3 of the best friends. You glance away to the mirror to fix your makeup. You hear Trent and Chuck talking amongst themselves about the pay per view that had just passed. It was no surprise not to hear a word from Cassidy other than the occasional grunt and mumbled “yeah”. You feel eyes on you as you glance in the mirror to see Cassidy staring at you in the mirror through his sunglasses. You raise your eyebrow slightly as you can feel your cheeks start to warm up under the heat of his stare.

The elevator dings when you all arrive at the lobby, you immediately turn to walk out of the elevator and towards the bar where you saw nearly every AEW wrestler celebrating another amazing ppv. You spot Adam sitting at the bar with two neat whiskeys in front of him and you immediately beeline for the much needed drink. Once you sit beside Adam the drinking begins, From beers to whiskeys as long as it was alcoholic you guys were drinking it. Since you were so small people assumed you couldn’t handle it, which couldn't be more wrong considering you put away a bottle of whiskey like it was nothing. As the hours ticked the crowd started to thin out in the bar but a lot of the remaining crowd all gathered around a few tables you had pushed together so you could all laugh and chat together. You were sandwiched between Adam and Chuckie T who were deep in conversation about the ups and downs of being southern men. You were drunkenly talking across the table at Kris who was telling you about her learning to wrestle on her home planet and how it compares to earthling wrestling. You were leaning your head against Adams shoulder as you normally did when the liquor was getting to your head. You glance around at your gang of coworker who were laughing and hollering as they told stories of their travels around the world before you eyes landed on Orange Cassidy, now without his signature sunglasses it was irrefutable that he was staring argyle at you, but as you focused on him you realized he wasn’t glaring at you rather he was giving a dead stare to Adam. This was thoroughly confusing as you weren’t aware if Adam and Cassidy had any beef. You make a mental note to ask Adam about it later when you were both sober.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and when you return you see that Chuckie has taken your seat and Trent has taken his seat, leaving the only empty seat beside Orange. You hesitate before sucking it up and sitting beside Cassidy, hoping he won't cause a fuss since he's busy chatting to Brandon Cutler and a few others. You pick back up your conversation with Kris which was easier since you were closer to her so it was far easier to hear her. Your conversations ends and you listen to Adam’s as he drunkenly rambles on about proper horse care to Trent and Chuckie who you are not sure if they’re listening intently or too drunk to even know Adams talking. You feel something on your back and turn to see Orange resting his arm around the back of your chair. You turn to face him and he’s already staring right at you with those strikingly blue eyes. “Can I help you?” You say, attitude dripping off every word. Cassidy sighs, he glances around at everyone at the table almost to ensure no one's watching before he leans in to you. “Listen i know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye-” You interrupt him with a laugh at his massive understatement. “I mean it's hard to see eye to eye when we avoid each other Cassidy” he rolls his eyes. “Are you going to let me finish?” his voice had an air of dominance that you had never heard before causing you to stop talking immediately. Orange pulls your chair closer to him as the group around you gets loud again. He started to speak again this time in a low voice that demanded your attention. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel I have to explain myself. I feel there has been a misunderstanding between us..” due to how close you two had suddenly become you could smell jack and coke he was sipping on. “You see sweetheart I haven't been avoiding you because I don't like you, no no no quite the opposite, I’ve been avoiding you because I'm fascinated by you, the way you carry yourself. I find you incredibly attractive.” This was the most you had heard Cassidy speak in all your years of knowing him and to say you were gobsmacked would be an understatement. All this time you thought Cassidy disliked you and this is what was happening the whole time.  

As Cassidy spoke he rested his hand on the lower part of your thigh. You moved your hand to Cassidy’s side as you leaned in to whisper your response into his ear. “And here i was thinking you hated me but looking at where your hand is right now i can bet that you like me a lot more than you're letting on” the smirk on your face grows as you see a light blush grow on Cassidy’s face. You gently kiss Cassidy on the neck before you go to lean back in your chair but Cassidy doesn’t let you move too far away from him by wrapping the arm that was resting on your chair around your waist to pull you back into him. “Jesus, I always knew you’d be a tease” Cassidy growls into your ear “I just want to see how hot and bothered I get you” You run your hand up his thigh. Before Cassidy can reply in your back and forth he's interrupted by Adam. “Hey Y/N, I wanna head back to my room, help me up” You turn in your chair to see Adam doing grabby hands towards you. You burst out laughing at Adam showing how much of a baby he is. “Yeah ok Hangy lets get you back to your stables” you turn back to Cassidy to see him not looking at you but instead doing his usual too cool for school face, you grab a napkin off the table and a pen from your purse to scribble down your hotel room number. “When you finish up here come see me” You hand Cassidy the napkin and wink before you turn to help Adam out of the bar.

Adam was relying his entire weight on you as you approached his hotel room door, he was chatting your ear off about how fun the night was and how glad he was to have a friend like you.  You led him into the room before unceremoniously dumping him on his bed. He Immediately kicks off his boots before he starts to undress himself. “Jesus, Ok Adam at least  give me some sort of warning before you decide to get naked” You say over your shoulder as you turn to walk out of the room and to return to your own. “Ok night night Y/N” You couldn't help but laugh as you hear Adam wish you a good night, completely ignoring his half assed strip tease he just gave you. The second you shut Adams door behind you the anxiety in your stomach builds, what if Cassidy doesn't show but what happens if he does show up. The elevator ride from Adam’s floor to your own feels like an eternity. You get off the elevator and head towards your room. Once inside you put your bag down and take off your jacket. The pacing begins some time after that. You were a nervous wreck as you touched up your makeup and fixed your outfit waiting for Cassidy to show up.  

When you finally hear a knock at your door, you wait a few seconds to catch your breath before you look through the peephole to see Cassidy looking as nonchalant as ever. You open the door and before you can even greet him. Cassidy pushes past you into the room, slamming the door and pushing you up against it. You can feel his lips ghosting your own as you get lost in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes. You lean up and Cassidy smashes your lips together in a wild and passionate kiss. Your hands went to wrap around Cassidy’s neck as his hand began roaming up and down your side, slipping under your shirt and massaging at the skin. His hands slide into your bra as he squeezes your tits causing you to gasp and that allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth. “Jump” he growls against your mouth as his hands lower to grab the backs  of your thighs as you follow his command and wrap your legs snuggly around his hips.

He walks you both towards your bed before he drops you onto the bed. You bounce as your ass collides with the soft surface. Your body lights up as Cassidy scans your body as he towers over you. You reach up and grab him by the collar to drag him down to smash your mouths back together. His hands return to roaming your body before he begins to tug your shirt up. You take the hint and strip off your shirt. Cassidy immediately attacks your chest with nips and open mouth kisses. You arch your back to get more from pressure and attention from Cassidy’s mouth while his mouth travels down your stomach. You giggled when he reached your happy trail, he eyed you as he began to unbutton your jeans. You raised your hips to make it easier to pull your jeans and your panties off completely and Cassidy throws them haphazardly behind himself.  Cassidy drapes your thighs over his shoulder as he begins to lay soft kisses and gentle bites along the insides of your thighs. He finally starts to lay kisses and kitten licks along your slit as your whines become full on moans at the pleasure you're receiving. His hands have a deadly grip on your hips keeping you bolted to the edge of the mattress meaning you can't do anything but lay there and take it as you start to be devoured. Cassidy’s kitten licks turn to long swipes of his tongue and his gentle kisses turn to toe curling pleasure as Cassidy sucks at your clit. Cassidy ate you out like a madman as you writhed and moaned below him. He eased a finger into you as you cried out his name, begging him for more. The coil in your abdomen tightened and tightened as Cassidy slid a second finger into you using his spit and your wetness as lubricant. He then begin scissoring and fucking you with his long, thin fingers. Knuckles nudging your G spot at the perfect pace as he thrust his fingers at an inhuman speed. “A-a-ahh C-Cassidy I’m g-onna c-cum” You cry out. Cassidy sucks on your clit to push you over the edge and you throw your head back.

You gripped his hair as you came down from your orgasm, you pull him up to kiss him and you groan as the taste of yourself fills your mouth. Your hands trail down his body as you tug at the hem of his shirt because him wearing any clothes is getting aggravating. He smirks at your need to see him naked as soon as possible. He grants your requests and you immediately attack his collarbone and chest with kisses and bites, he lets out a low moan when you suck on a sweet spot where his neck meets his shoulder causing him to suddenly grind into you. The feeling of his denim against your bare crotch caused a weird but euphoric rush to run through your body as he began fumbling with his jeans button. You place your hands over his in an effort to calm his nerves, you successfully get his jeans undone and he strips them off and throws them in the same direction that he threw yours. You had seen Cassidy without his shirt on before and you had seen him in wrestling trunks as well but seeing him towering above you in nothing but his boxers made you speechless at just how ungodly attractive he was. His slander build hid how much power and strength he had. You pulled Cassidy down to kiss him and you used this momentum to flip you both over so you were straddling Cassidy. Cassidy raises his hips to throw his boxers off, his hard dick stands up against his stomach and you grind against it for friction against your clit. He stills your hips by grabbing you and teasing your hole with his erection. You whined as Cassidy’s grip on your hips prevented you from sinking down on him.  

Cassidy smirked up at you as he lined himself up and slowly lowered you onto himself. The girth of it begins to override your senses as all you can think about is the stretching feeling as Cassidy pushed himself to the hilt. You sit flush against his hips when Cassidy starts to shallowly thrust up into you and your moans turn to cries when his tip perfectly nudges against your G spot. You place your hands against his chest for leverage and you can feel his rapid breathing beneath your palms. His thrusts become violent as his cock starts to throb inside of you. His hands trail up your body to squeeze and tease with your tits as you rode his cock like there was no tomorrow. You could tell Cassidy was close to cumming by the bright red flush of his face and chest and the groans that were just now becoming audible as he increased in volume the closer to finishing he got. Your hips started to stutter as your body tensed with how close you were. Cassidy lets his hand fall back down your body as he starts to rub tight circles on your clit causing you to be pushed over the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and a rush of electricity zaps through your body. You clench on Cassidy and it feels as if you milk him of every drop of cum as his cum shoots, hot and thick into you. The aftershocks ripple through both your bodies as you fall forward onto Cassidy.  

After you both have caught your breath, you roll off of Cassidy to allow him to go to the bathroom. You can't help but stare at his bare ass as he walks away. You start to giggle before Cassidy turns back to you with a raised eyebrow. “I hate to see you leave, but i love to watch you go” He barks with laughter at what a horrible line that was. “You already got in my pants, you don't have to use bad pick up lines on me now.” You laugh at the savage rejection your brilliant line got. You stand on wobbly legs as you reach for a random shirt to wear to go to sleep in. Cassidy comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth and hands it to you and you wipe yourself off before throwing the cloth back towards the bathroom and curling up into bed. You notice Cassidy is still standing beside the bed not looking directly at you but darting his eyes around the room as if he's never been in a hotel before. You realize he’s debating whether to stay or go, so you make that decision for him by lifting up the blankets and patting the empty space. “Come on, cool guy, it's cuddle time.” He tries to hide it as he climbs in beside you but you see that small smile on his face as you pull him into your nest of comfort. “Hey Y/N?” you hear Cassidy ask after you turn the light off. “Yeah Orange?” your brows furrow slightly at what Cassidy could be gearing up to ask. “Are you wearing my shirt?” you breathe a sigh of relief at the simple question. “Um yeah” you say, gauging his reaction, silently hoping he's not mad. “Hm.. Cool” He pulls you closer as you start to fall asleep to the even beat of his heart.

[aceofspadegrass]

Morning Kitty

Characters: Kuina Hikari, Chishiya Shuntaro, Cabot, Last Boss (briefly)

Genre: Fluff. Kuina and Cabot time. :D

1.2k words

Kuina deserves more fics. Even if it's just her in the morning with a cat.

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It was a nice day today. Kuina stirs from her sleep, sitting up and stretching her bones with a yawn. The sun gently filters in from the window, Kuina opening her eyes to the sight of a cat sitting on her bed, Kuina slowly blinking. “ Cabot?” She mutters, recognizing the tabby. Cabot meows at her, and wanders up to her, demanding pats as she rubs against Kuina’s arm. There was a note tied to the cat by a ribbon. It was atop her head, strangely enough, Kuina pulling the entire thing off and opening the note.

‘ Don’t tell Last Boss I stole his cat. Here. ‘

The note was followed by a very weird picture of a cat, but Kuina knows who wrote it immediately, laughing a little. She turns her attention to Cabot, who had decided to play with a little bit of her loose hair, Kuina petting the cat. Cabot nuzzles up against the hand, but only for a second as she continues to play with Kuina’s hair. The feline eventually moves on with her life, hopping off and wandering around the room, Kuina getting up for real.

As per her morning routine, she does a few stretches to relax and feel energized after her sleep, as wonderful as it was. Cabot was always within her view, occasionally grooming, occasionally watching her. Most of the time though Cabot was wandering around and investigating everything in silence, occasionally looking back at Kuina and meowing. She smiles at each meow, like Cabot was attempting to communicate about what neat thing she found.

Kuina eventually moves to the bathroom for the rest of her morning routine, Cabot remaining outside and continuing on her little adventure. By the time Kuina comes back out, Cabot was sitting politely on her bed, meowing the moment she sees Kuina. “ Hi Cabot.” She greets, the cat meowing again and hopping off the bed, coming up to her and immediately attempting to climb her leg. The only problem was that unlike her owner, Kuina did not wear any sort of long garment, in accordance to the Beach’s rules. She didn’t enjoy the feeling of Cabot’s little claws digging into her flesh, as innocent as the motion was, and she reaches down and picks the cat up again, Cabot purring. She holds the cat in front of her face, Cabot’s hind legs dangling casually, the latter not at all bothered. “ You are so sweet Cabot, and I know Last Boss lets you sit high up, but you are a ball of cuteness with built in swords. I have bare legs, and your little baby daggers are not what I need in the morning.” Cabot meows at her, and Kuina chuckles, setting the cat down. Apparently, that was the wrong move, because the moment Cabot was free, she tried to climb Kuina like a palm tree again, Kuina scooping the cat right back up. “ Okay, okay!” She lets out a breathy laugh, and attempts to set the cat on her shoulder, her hands supporting the cat. Cabot purrs happily as she achieves her desire to simply be perched higher than the ground, and gently kneads at Kuina’s shoulder. Kuina rolls her eyes with a smile on her lips, and she heads out for the day.

The walk down the corridor was peaceful, the only noise being the faint noises of people in their own rooms doing things Kuina didn’t want to think about what many of the noises meant. Instead she makes her way down to the dining hall for breakfast. She doesn’t see Chishiya anywhere, but she doesn’t expect to see the white shadow of a man anywhere unless he wanted to be seen. He was unexpectedly great at disappearing in plain sight, despite the bright white of his outfit.

Cabot was getting a little tiring to carry around like a fluffy baby, so Kuina attempts to set her down when she got to a table, Cabot thankfully staying put. “ Hmm….. Maybe Last Boss is around here. Just wait there okay? Maybe he’ll come find you.” Kuina tells the tabby, Cabot meowing and stretching on the chair she was set on, lazing about. Kuina walks off to go grab some sustenance, coming back to the same spot out of a mild curiosity if Last Boss ever picked up his cat.

Surprise surprise, he did not. Cabot was now halfway standing on the table, eating from a plate. Kuina comes closer, the contents of the plate appearing to simply be a whole sausage. Did someone come by to feed the cat? Kuina blinks and takes a seat nearby, Cabot ignoring her as she continues to feast. Kuina starts on her own breakfast, eating alongside the cat. It wasn’t the first time she’s had to eat with a cat by her side, even if her regular is just a cat stuffed in a convincing human body.

The sound of a plate hitting the table makes her look up, Chishiya not even sparing her a glance as he cuts into an omelette and digs in. Cabot looks up at Chishiya to see what invaded her nom zone, but goes right back to eating without a problem. “ Hi Chishiya. Did you….. give Cabot a sausage?” Kuina asks him, Chishiya looking up at her, gently setting his fork down.

“ What makes you say that?” He asks calmly, maintaining eye contact with her. Kuina shrugs. She only assumed he could have, as Chishiya liked cats and did come over to sit besides the feline.

Then again, he could have easily just wanted to be by her instead. Kuina was the only person Chishiya actually willingly existed besides at any point in time, being his only confidant.

Chishiya continues to look at her, even as Cabot finishes her food and hops off, Kuina feeling her tail brush against her leg. Chishiya is silent, as is Kuina, the both just staring at one another. Eventually Chishiya shrugs back, face offering no negative or positive as he returns to eating his omelette. Kuina wasn’t that surprised at the lack of a real response, and she simply goes back to eating her food. She can feel Cabot still under the table, doing whatever the cat pleased, and occasionally would rub her entire body against Kuina’s legs, and maybe even Chishiya, even if the other didn’t show any reaction to her. A little later, and Kuina spots the mass of darker clothing that obviously belonged to the militants, and Cabot certainly saw as well, or at the very least heard, as the cat sprints across the area, right up to a very confused Aguni. Kuina smiles a little as Cabot goes up to Last Boss and makes her way up him like a pole, Last Boss letting her without a single problem as she wiggles her way into his pulled up hood.

“ Aww. She’s back home.” Kuina quips with a smile. Chishiya glances back, Cabot having succeeded in shoving herself into the hood that still was pulled up, Last Boss at least holding a hand on her back so she would be stable with her face jammed inside.

“ I suppose so. And here I thought it would be longer.” Kuina glances at Chishiya. “ So…. you gonna ever tell me why you stole Cabot?” Chishiya looks back at her, only with a coy smile, Kuina lightly shaking her head. “ Fine, fine….. don’t tell me. Can you at least tell me how? She probably made a fuss for you stealing her.” “ No, actually. She was very swayed by the prospects of catnip.”

“…. Chishiya are you smoking catnip again.” “ No.”