#but not today no sir!!! sensory overload you are not in charge of my life anymore!!!!

[wickedhawtwexler]

not to brag but I went to the city with a checklist of tasks to complete and I did ALL of them even though I got flustered sooo I’m winning this whole mental health thing

[laylaackles]

Sensations (Jared Smut)

Warnings: smut, feather play, wax play, vibrator, sensory issues, slight sensory overload, cumming untouched, ice play, bondage, blindfold, red room, sir kink, use of safeword.

You were sitting in bed reading a book when you received a text from your husband Jared.

"I'll be home in 20 minutes. I expect you to greet me in the red room."

"Yes sir." You texted back.

25 minutes later, you found yourself blindfolded and tied to the bed in the center of the room. He had you bound by your wrists and ankles.

Through the years, your sex life with Jared has become more intense. He's been teaching you the art of the bdsm lifestyle. It took him a long time to open up about this side of him. He didn't want to scare you off.

"Tonight, I want to try some new things." Jared said.

Jared was soft and sweet outside of this room. But in here, he's in charge. This is his play time. But he won't push you too far. He never punishes you. No matter how much he might want to because of your brattyness.

"Bdsm isn't always about pain. It's about pleasure, too. But sometimes, it's about pleasurable pain." He said.

His voice was close. He was on the side of you.

"Do you know why I always blindfold you Y/n?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because when I'm blindfold, my senses are heightened. I can't see, so I have to feel and hear."

"And what does that do?"

"It makes the sensations a lot better, and it allows me to enjoy."

"Correct. What's your color, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Green."

You and Jared use the traffic light system for safe words. Green is go, red, stop and yellow, slow down.

You heard Jared blow out some breath. Like he was blowing out a candle. Then, you felt something hot dripping down your stomach. Wax.

You hissed at first. It wasn't necessarily painful, but the wax was hot. It felt better once the wax hardened, which was almost instantly.

"How's that feel, baby?" He asked.

"Good sir."

"What does it feel like?"

"Feels hot. It burns a little, but it feels good." You said.

"How about this?"

He poured the hot wax right onto your nipple.

It was weird. It hurt a little bit more, but it still turned you on.

"Do the other one." You said.

"Dont get too demanding, Y/n."

"Sorry, sir. Could you please keep going?" You asked.

"Sure."

He poured the wax onto the other nipple. You wanted more wax, but you heard him set the candle down and grab something else.

Next thing you knew, your body was cold. Jared had placed an ice cube in his mouth and was trailing it along your body. He drew two lines down your stomach. One on each side of the wax line.

The sensation was different. It was nice. Your body was so hot from being turned on, and from the wax. The ice was cooling you down just as fast as it was turning you on.

The cube melted pretty fast, considering how hot your body was. You felt Jared move lower, then you felt the remaining bit of the ice cube be pushed in between your dripping folds.

It was cold, and it made your body jump.

"Color?" He checked.

"Green."

You'd never had an ice cube in that area before. It was definitely new, and you welcomed it.

"Have you ever cum untouched before Y/n?" He asked.

He knew the answer, but he still asked.

"No, sir."

"Well, today you're going to." He said.

The next thing you felt was something light and soft. It started on your neck, then it trailed down your body. A feather.

As the feather moved, the sensation was starting to change. You weren't as turned on anymore, and your body was starting to tense.

As the years have gone on, you've developed some sensory issues, and Jared is fully aware of it. He's helped calm you down after having sensory overloads.

You tried to relax and enjoy the feather, but you couldn't. It was too weird. It didn't feel good. Everytime it touched a new area on your body you tensed more. Your breathing started to become uneven and you began to panic.

"Red!" You said.

Jared immediately removed the feather from your body. Then he removed the blindfold. It took your eyes a second to adjust to the light, but once they did, he could tell by the look on your face that you were about to have a sensory overload.

"Hey, you're okay." He said.

He reached up to untie your hands.

Jared sat next to you on the bed. He reached for one of your hands and laced his fingers with yours. Then, with his free hand, he rubbed your body in all the places the feather had been.

Skin to skin always helped calm you down. Especially with Jared. He was always so patient with you. Once you had calmed down, he spoke.

"Wanna continue or stop for the night?"

"No more feather."

"No, no more feather."

"I wanna continue." You said.

"Okay."

Before he snapped back into dom mode, Jared leaned in and kissed you passionately. But he pulled away before you could get too into it.

He stood up and reached for your left hand. He tied it back up, then did the same to your right hand. Then he replaced the blindfold.

You didn't know what was going to come next. But if you were going to cum untouched, he was going to have to work you back up first. Which is exactly what he did.

You felt ice sliding down your body again. He used his mouth to guide the cube around. It started on your neck and then made its way down to your chest. The ice slipped over your left nipple, making it harden instantly. Then it slid over to your right nipple, hardening it as well.

The ice trailed down your stomach again in the same spots as before. He left the ice cube in the same spot as before, but this time, he grabbed another ice cube. He used this one to trail down your thighs and legs. Then he went back up to your breasts.

Jared placed the cube on your hardened nipple, then wrapped his mouth around your breast. This sensation was completely different. The contrast between the cold ice and the warmth of his mouth was like heaven.

You felt waves of ecstasy run through your body when he moved to your other nipple, copying his movements. He heard you let out a soft sigh and decided to kick things up a notch.

There wasn't much left to this ice cube, but he placed it with the other one that was mostly melted.

The next thing wasn't something you felt at first. It was something you heard. You heard buzzing. He had some sort of vibrator.

You expected it to use it on your clit, but he didn't. The first place it touched was your stomach. Just above your belly button. He drew a couple circles around your belly button.

Then the buzzing trailed upwards. He circled around each nipple before he actually touched the sensitive buds with the toy.

You felt your walls clench around nothing as a coil began to form in your stomach. It was so strange. You never thought you could cum from this. Hell, you still don't know if you can, but you'll definitely be close.

Jared continued to move the toy all around your body. He teased you a few times by letting it rest on your thighs. There were times where the toy was just barely touching your clit and your entrance. But he never let it actually touch your core.

"Please, sir." You begged.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Let me cum. Make me cum please."

"What do I need to do?"

"Talk to me sir." You said.

Jared's voice always pushed you over the edge, but the words he said were what really did it.

"You're mine." He said.

"Yours. Always yours." You sighed as the toy moved lower, just barely grazing your clit.

"Only I can do this stuff to you."

"Yes, sir. Only you."

Your breathing became heavier and more rapid. Jared watched as your chest rose with every breath you took.

"Nobody else can do this to you. Nobody else is allowed to make you cum untouched. Just me."

"Just you!" You cried out as the sensations washed over you.

Your walls clenched around nothing, and your skin flashed white, then flushed red as you came untouched. It was intense and new. You're not sure if you can do it again, but you wouldn't be opposed to trying. Not tonight, though.

You can't handle much more teasing. Your body is sensitive enough already.

You felt the bed dip as Jared sat down next to you.

"What do you want next doll?" He asked.

His voice was close to your ear when he spoke. You could feel him breathing against your neck. Then you felt his lips against your neck.

"Want me to fuck you?" He asked.

His kisses trailed down towards your chest.

"Yes, sir." You said.

"Say it." He said.

"I want you to fuck me sir. I want you to make me feel good. Please." You begged.

"Since you asked so nicely, I will."

You felt him stand up to remove his clothes, then he positioned his body over yours. Your legs were already spread open, thanks to the restraints, so he lined his hard cock up with your entrance.

You felt the tip of his cock slide into you, slightly stretching you open. Then he slowly pushed the rest of his length inside you.

The two of you sighed in unison as he bottomed out. It didn't matter how often the two of you did this. It always felt like it was the first time all over again.

As Jared pulled back and began thrusting, he spoke.

"See, most doms don't ask their partner what they want them to do. They just give, and the sub is expected to take."

His thrusts began to pick up their pace and intensity.

"In a sense, I give, and you take. But I'm different. I care. I want to know what you want me to do. I won't punish you for asking something of me. I won't be mad if you don't call me sir when you say something."

He pulled back until just the tip was in, like he always did. But this time, he slammed back into you with so much force. Your body scooted up on the bed, and the restraints tightened.

He pulled back and thrusted in like that again. This time, he hit your g spot.

"And that is why you'll never find a better dom. You'll never find someone who is as good as me. Who fulfills your needs like me."

"I want you to be satisfied. But I want you to be a good girl too." He continued.

"That's not a problem, though, is it? You'll never even want to look for someone else. Right? You'll be a good girl for only me. Right?"

Every time he said "right," he thrusted into you at a harder intensity.

"That's right, sir." You agreed.

"Good." He said.

Jared leaned down and pressed your lips to his in a sloppy, animalistic kiss. The two of you were growing closer to your orgasms by the second.

His words and the way he used your body were so hot. He's so good at making you feel good. No man has ever paid this much attention to you or been this much fun.

Jared knows exactly how to work your body. He knows what he's doing. And he knows that he is damn good at it.

Your breathing picked up again as Jared kept hitting your g-spot. You're  so close. And so is he. Jared's cock was throbbing inside of you as he pounded into your dripping entrance.

"Come on, doll. Cum with me." He said.

With a few more thrusts, you came hard around his cock as he came inside your aching pussy.

God, you're gonna be sore for days.

It's worth it, though.

Jared pulled out and then stood to remove the restraints and blindfold from your body.

After a nice warm bath, your body was finally clean of the wax and sweat, and the two of you settled into bed together.

"Jare?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I know I'm yours, but are you mine?" You asked.

"Always." He said.

LA<3

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Five

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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         Check out my writing commission information here!                Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content!                            Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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                                          Chapter Index

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On the average day Hizashi loved his agency. It was bright, and loud, and full of sound and laughter and life and, more often than not, it reminded him of just why he had become a hero in the first place. It was a place where, no matter what, he knew he was making a difference -- however small it might be. 

Hizashi did not love his agency when he was having a rough day, however. His aching head, already pounding from a headache that was quickly starting to edge into migraine levels, screamed in pain at everything that was going on. He knew, without a doubt, that if he removed his sunglasses for even a second then it would be just enough to kick him into a sensory overload. Even with his hearing aids turned down it was still, well… 

Gaggles and groups of interns were dashing across the main lobby and disappearing into elevators or hallways, harried lawyers who looked one bad moment away from a breakdown were rushing to elevators with files upon files of paperwork, engineers and designers for their in-house support equipment were lugging around large crates and yelling every time someone stepped in their path, and overall it was like Hizashi had walked into hell.

He couldn’t help the half-step he took back towards the door that he was still holding open. The urge to just turn around and head back home where he knew Shouta and Toshinori would be was overwhelming. He knew he would never do it, though. As much as he would love to skip out on an agency day, he had far too much paperwork to get done. Not to mention he had way too many interns and sidekicks to corral to even attempt leaving. 

Besides, the wonderful, but terrifying woman who ran the front desk had already seen him. She was typically cheerful, but considering the chaos of everything, she was looking at Hizashi as if daring him to try and leave. It was a look that, the longer he stood there, was morphing into one of murderous rage and, considering she was the linchpin that kept his agency from collapsing, Hizashi decided to hustle his way inside. He wasn’t sure if he feared murder from her more, or her quitting on them. Probably the latter, all things considered. 

She at least seemed mollified when she saw Hizashi heading towards the elevators, but he noticed a quick glimpse of concern on her face. It was enough to have him resisting the urge to groan. If she could tell he was having an off day from just one look at him from so far away, then he didn’t have high hopes for nobody else noticing. He did work with pro-heroes, after all.

He at least had hope that the day might just look busy but would actually be slow. Those hopes were soon crushed and Hizashi knew exactly what sort of day it would be when two lawyers converged on him before he could even step inside the elevator. “Yamada-san! Here are the files concerning the last three major incidents during your patrols. This includes the altercation at the Mitsuya building.” Ah, right. The mall that had almost been destroyed by a couple of pricks with a grudge against… capitalism? Hizashi hadn’t really been sure. 

“Thank you, Heartfilia-san,” Hizashi sighed, accepting the files and trying not to flinch at how heavy they felt. No one had ever warned him as a kid just how much paperwork was involved with being a pro hero -- especially a public pro hero who had to worry about things like property damage. Pushing his sigh back, Hizashi looked to the other lawyer. “Nozu-san? How’s everything regarding the last raid we did?”

The apologetic look on the man’s face had Hizashi closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He felt his head pound in tune with his urges to just drop everything and scream. Nozu seemed to realize he was close to losing it, because he was quick to add, “It could certainly be worse, Present Mic, sir.” 

“Let me guess, it could always be better?” The thick file Hizashi was handed made him bitterly regret his decision to not just remain as a sidekick for the rest of his days. Even if his life had been hell as a sidekick and he would have long since been dead, he wouldn’t have so much paperwork. “What’s the deadline for getting this in?”

“Well, that’s where the good news comes in,” Nozu perked up, looking delighted to have some good news to share. Hizashi couldn’t blame him. “In a typical case like this we would need to have everything submitted in two days in order for all criminals to be properly and legally charged and contained-”

“Two days?!” Hizashi was having a heart attack. He was going to die. He was just going to drop dead and let his skull split open from his migraine and allow his anxiety to eat him alive. It would be better than two days-

“In a typical case! This isn’t typical! We have more time!” While Nozu explained in a panic, Heartfilia gave a soft snort of laughter, looking as tired as Hizashi felt. The man had no doubt been pulling double and triple shifts.

“Next time?” Heartfilia spoke up, “Lead with that.” Hizashi couldn’t help but agree because, wow, yeah… He hadn’t thought his day could have gotten worse, and yet. “At least it’s not two days considering how much of a shitshow that case was. How much time?”

“One week from today,” Nozu sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Sorry, sir, for the scare. Thankfully one of the criminals that were caught slipped up enough that he’s being suspected as being part of a string of other crimes and robberies. We’ve been given extra time to complete things on our end while the court looks into it.”

Alright. Hizashi could handle dealing with a case like this in a week, at least. Closing his eyes and wincing at the pounding in his head, Hizashi swallowed and forced himself to keep it together as he nodded at the two, “Alright. I’ll get this all filled out and drop it back off with Crow-san. Anything else?”

Nozu shook his head rapidly, still young and new enough to be just the tiniest bit starstruck. Heartfilia, who had been stuck dealing with him for years, shook his head, “Just get some rest before you drive yourself into the ground. Again.” 

“Ha, ha,” Hizashi responded dryly. “You’re hilarious, truly. I can see the career in comedy already.” Hizashi pressed a button to call the elevator, looking over his shoulder as he waited for it to arrive. “Anything else?” 

“Yeah,” Heartfilia smirked, crossing his arms with too smug of an expression. “Ito-san is looking for you.” Fuck. The ding of the elevator was the only thing that stopped him from actually letting slip a few curses.

“I hate you,” Hizashi called as he pressed the floor for media relations, shutting his eyes and swallowing around the heavy, clogged feeling in his throat. The only thing keeping him even relatively sane was the fact he could and was still talking. Then again, if his migraine got much worse his quirk would start slipping, and if that happened then he could hurt people, and if his quirk was out of control then he was dangerous-

“Oh, hello, Yamada-san.” Startling at his name and trying not to show it, and realizing the elevator had stopped and opened its doors for him, Hizashi looked down at one of Ito’s interns. “Ito-san is waiting for you in her office.” 

Mumbling a quick thanks, Hizashi headed towards Ito’s office, wincing at some of the sympathetic looks he was being given. That never meant good things and today, of all days, Hizashi wasn’t sure if he could handle whatever news Ito had for him. As his media and public relations manager, she was in charge of making sure he had a good image when it came to the general public. It didn’t always go well.

Clutching the files he had been forced to take, Hizashi half-wondered if he could use them as an impromptu shield or weapon as he cleared his throat, knocked, and cracked open the door, “Good afternoon, Ito-san, Japan’s finest and best-”

“Save it.” The barked order had Hizashi snapping his mouth shut at once, and, yeah. It was definitely that sort of day. “Sit your ass down and explain to me why I have three media outlets trying to get comments on the fact that you got into a fist fight at a bar of all places.” Ah… Ah, right. Hizashi had almost forgotten about that. 

Hovering by the door and debating escape for a moment, Hizashi finally slipped in and took a seat as far away from Ito as he could get. It didn’t feel like it helped him very much, Ito taking a seat behind her own desk and simply staring at him. It was her favorite intimidating tactic and, unfortunately for Hizashi, it often worked.

Finally, after eons had passed, Ito braced her elbows on the desk and laced her fingers together, pushing out a long sigh that made guilt claw at his chest. Hizashi wasn’t exactly sure what he was guilty for, but the guilt was there all the same.

“Alright, Yamada.” Ito’s eyes, which had fluttered shut for a moment, snapped open and gave him a look that was as cold as ice. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t let you deal with this mess on your own.”

Blanching, Hizashi tried not to fully flinch away, instead roughly clearing his throat, and, alright. He was good with words. He was a language teacher, after all. “Well… If you think about it, I was off-duty at the time-”

“You were still wearing your full uniform and all of your support equipment,” Ito interrupted, eyes radiating her hatred and ire perfectly. “I have over a dozen unique photos from social media accounts of you, Present Mic, in a fist fight with a member of the public at a bar. It’s already spread rapidly across the top three social media sites and is gaining traction on another two sites as we speak.”

Ito paused, taking in a breath. The pause, Hizashi figured, was more terrifying than her anger. “Now, I want an explanation -- and not your media explanation for which I will give you something that you will repeat word-for-word. No. I want your honest explanation as to what stupidity went through your head when you thought you could just-”

“He was drugging a girl’s drink.” Hizashi braced for something to be thrown at him, waiting nervously before Ito, silent, gave a nod for him to continue. “I had just finished up my patrol and I stopped by that bar to talk to the owner about some of my contacts and some people I had on watch. I noticed that the bastard I punched had been flirting with someone who was pretty unreceptive and, when she wasn’t looking, he slipped a powder into her drink that dissolved immediately.

“The girl was about to drink from her cup as an excuse to not talk to him, so I snatched it from her and then confronted the asshole about the little addition to the cup. It, uh… It didn’t remain much of a civil conversation for long.” Hizashi, still seeing the displeasure, hopefully added, “I didn’t throw the first punch?”

There was a long, long moment of silence, Ito narrowing her eyes at him before giving a single nod that had Hizashi almost collapsing in relief. “I’ll deal with it, in that case. Can the owner or bartender confirm your story and the events?”

“Of course! I should have both their numbers. They offered ‘em up when they realized what went down and are willing to act as witnesses.” Hizashi knew he was in the clear when Ito looked pleased, some of the manic tension bleeding out of her. She really deserved a vacation soon. “So… public image?”

Ito looked down at her scattering of papers and forms, shoving a few to the floor before pulling some out of her drawer. It was an effort to not laugh. “Not the best, but not the worst, either. With that bar fight, now that I know the truth, I can spin it to get you some positive attention for a week or two, at least.”

Hizashi watched as Ito scattered around a few more papers before pulling another out of a pile, “The Mitsuya Mall, as I don’t need to tell you, was an utter disaster.” Yeah, it had… definitely not ended well when it came to property damage. “Thankfully no one was hurt, so that makes the outcome more positive on the overall. Your show’s doing well, so that’s helping-”

“And what are the more official sources saying?” Because Ito could go on all day if he let her and Hizashi knew that public opinion could mean more than just the average citizen’s opinion. “Bad or bad?”

Ito’s lips twisted up into a wry smile as she chuckled, “Just bad, for now. I think the new drivel is claiming you’re a laidback playboy who’s focused more on his radio show and his ratings rather than the safety of Japan.” 

“Playboy? Playboy? Really?” Hizashi made a face, shaking his head. He had been with Shouta since they were teenagers, after all, and the only other person he had ever felt the urge to really be with was Toshinori. “Jeez, alright. At least it’s just about the radio show. That always passes.” 

“It does if you keep getting good ratings,” Ito snorted, fixing a stack of papers, and then looking at her desk. “That seems to be the worst of it for now. Did Heartfilia-san get you those files yet?”

“Saw him just before you,” Hizashi said, holding up his files. He couldn’t blame Ito for not appearing very sympathetic considering her own workload. “How’s opinion looking like on the case?”

“Varied.” Well. It could be worse. “The public still seems to be under the impression we’re competent, at the very least, and I’m happy to keep it that way.” Ito looked at her desk one last time before nodding and waving her hand at him, “Alright, you can go. I’ll fix the latest mess you dropped in my lap and then I don’t want any disasters from you for at least two weeks. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Hizashi nodded, standing up and walking towards the door. He paused for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob. “Actually… what’s the current opinion on my image in regards to my… my quirk.” 

Hizashi didn’t turn around to see whatever look Ito was giving him, instead just waiting in the growing silence as he felt phantom pressure around his throat, pressing in tightly while phantom straps dug into his jaw and silenced him- 

“You’re a good man and hero with a powerful quirk that has only ever been used to protect the public.” Ito’s voice was soft, yet firm. She had known him long enough to no doubt know what was on his mind. “The worst I have for you right now is that you’re too loud, but, honestly, that’s more about your wardrobe than your voice.” 

The unexpected dig had Hizashi giving a snort of laughter, quiet as he left the office and pushed out a soft sigh, eyes closing. His head was still pounding, and he still felt those phantom touches brushing against him, but it was enough to know that no one feared him or his quirk. Ito had never sugarcoated things for him, after all. It wasn’t much to know that he was at least decent in regards to the public, but… it helped a little.

“Um, Present Mic-san, sir?” Prying his eyes open, Hizashi blinked down a trio of new third-year interns. Two of them looked ready to burst into tears and the third looked as if she was ready to get into a fight for her life. “We’re, uh- Well, we’re new here, of course we’re new here, not that I expect you to know that, but, um-”

“Ignore her, she’s freaking out,” the one who didn’t look ready to cry said, stepping forward. “Our supervisor told us to go down to help support for the day but didn’t bother to tell us what floor or elevator to take. Think you could point us in the right direction?”

Ah, third years… They were either one moment from breaking down completely or they no longer cared if they lived or died. Hizashi not only remembered that time well, but even now he could relate. 

“Better than that, I can take you down there myself!” He made a mental note to later put in a work order request to submit for his next speaker, now that he was reminded. The last thing he needed was for them to fiddle with the specs again. “Come along, herolets!” 

“We’re, um- We’re not, uh, hero students, sir. We’re- We’re support students,” one girl nervously corrected, looking panicked as one of her friends pulled her along towards the elevator after Hizashi. 

“Really? If you ask me, those in support are just as much heroes as the rest of us.” Hizashi pushed the button for the right floor, looking at the third years seriously, sunglasses slipping down for a moment. “Listen. There will be plenty of people in your line of work who will doubt what it is you can do. They’ll think that just because you’re not out there on the front lines you’re doing less.”

“Isn’t that what we are doing?” The calm one, who looked put together and like she knew how the world worked far too well, stepped forward. “It’s nice of you to give us a pep talk, sir, but we aren’t heroes. We don’t have powerful, flashy quirks. We just know how to put things together without them falling apart.” 

Hizashi stared for a moment, tilting his head before giving a huff of a laugh. Shouta, he was surer, would have loved this kid, “What’s your name, listener?” 

“Ishii Chisuzu, sir.” Yeah. Hizashi would definitely have to remember that name for the future. He had a good feeling about it.

“Well, Ishii Chisuzu, I’m about to give you the best piece of advice you’ll ever get. Ready for it?” Waiting for the girl to nod, Hizashi gave her a sharp grin. “What you can do is not less. Got it?”

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, the other two girls looking at him with wide eyes while Ishii gave the smallest hint of a smile, “Got it.” 

“Good! Now, off you scurry. If anyone gets after you for being late or something just send ‘em to me,” Hizashi winked, watching as the girls scattered for another direction. Hizashi stared after them for a moment, quietly hitting the button for the floor his office was on, leaning back against the elevator and pushing out a slow breath as he swallowed around his dry throat. 

As much as he loved his agency, it was such a public place. That was fine, typically, considering that he loved being a part of all the action and crazy problems that were always happening. It was just that on some days, when the past pressed against him far too closely, Hizashi really wished he didn’t work in a place that constantly reminded him of his quirk and what it was he could do.

He was fine in the school where he was focused on teaching English and had so many fond memories and had Shouta nearby in case his quirk was to ever slip from his control. When he was away from all of that, however, from the feeling of safety and protection, that was when he could feel the straps tightening around his jaw, and the hands against his throat, and the whispered words of how he would never be a hero with such an awful villain’s quirk and why couldn’t he just be silent-

Rushing out of the elevator as soon as it hit his floor, Hizashi slipped into his office, tossed his files of paperwork onto his desk, and collapsed onto the nap lounge he had dragged in forever ago. He kept the lights off, letting the dark room soothe his aching eyes and pounding head as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He should have just gone home early and stayed with Shouta and Toshinori, but he had work to do. Some stupid childhood trauma that had happened decades ago was not going to stop him from being the hero he had become. It didn’t matter that his skull felt like it was cracking open, or that his throat could barely make any noise without trying to close, or that he couldn’t stop feeling that damn muzzle- 

It didn’t matter. The media could make fun of him all they wanted to, but Present Mic still had work to do. His public image was meant to be friendly and a bit silly, ready to help but also just as ready to make jokes and have some fun. It wasn’t an accident it was that way. He had known from the beginning how the world would see him, but that was good. It left him the room and freedom he needed to do what had to get done. 

That included doing the work he needed to, even on his bad days; no matter how tempted he was to take a page out of Shouta’s book and just fall asleep where he was lying down. It wouldn’t be for long. A half hour, maybe an hour, possibly until the world ended -- just long enough for him to stop feeling so tired and strung out. 

The one thing that kept him from following through was his buzzing phone, Hizashi swearing as he dug it out and pulled it up in front of his face before scrambling to lower the brightness in the dark room. It took a few moments before he noticed the sender was Nemuri, Hizashi already regretting his entire life as he opened the attached images. 

He had been prepared for anything and everything, but not for the half a dozen images of young Present Mic fans who couldn’t be older than six or seven. It was the cute pictures that Nemuri had promised to show him at lunch before getting distracted, Nemuri sending a simple text that read, ‘One of them told me to tell you thank you for having a voice quirk and still becoming a hero.’ 

It was a simple message, and cute, silly pictures, but Hizashi felt like he could burst into tears as he looked through them slowly one-by-one. Once he closed out of the last one, he saw a few missed texts, all of them from friends or other co-workers who were checking in on him. Tensei, who had no doubt been told of his rough day by Tenya, had sent near fifteen messages in the last ten minutes alone, along with a selfie of him doing a wheelie with his wheelchair.

Overall his messages were filled with support or just a kind word or two, Hizashi finally, slowly, after an eternity, pushing himself up and heading towards his desk. 

He may not have been some incredible hero like Toshinori or even a deadly, fearless hero like Shouta, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t a hero. Present Mic had work to do it and Hizashi would see it through until the end. 

The idea of crawling into a corner and sleeping until the end of the world was still tempting, though.