#sako atsuhro headcanons

[plush-rabbit]

Behind The Mask

A/N: More of a leading up to it rather than a reaction and im so sorry for not being able to read properly but! ily<3

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Bubaigawara Jin:

Jin cannot take off his mask. He thinks- He knows that he’ll break if he does. A simple tear is enough for him to feel as if he’s leaking, as if his entire existence and being, is nothing more than some liquid spilling out of a broken kettle. He knows that you don’t mind but there’s always something in him repeating the opposite, that you care and that if he isn’t up to your standards, you’ll drop him. You allow him to be near you- this paranoid man who can’t be without a mask-, you let him rest his head on your chest and hold you as you stroke his back, bringing him back to reality once more and easing his state of mind.

There’s a logical reasoning in his mind whenever something negative tends to come up. You’re still with him, you still let his hands roam your body and pull you close. You let him love you and he knows that by this point, you couldn’t care about who he is underneath the mask. His name isn’t something hidden by this point and you could simply search him, but you don’t. He gets to come to your home and lay his head on your lap and watch some old television show that makes you groan in second-hand embarrassment. He gets to leave when he’s taken you to your bed, your arms clinging loosely to his body, the fabric of his mask lifted for a quick moment where he presses his lips against your temple. He gets to leave without you seeing him. 

He’ll joke about you not seeing his face. Even when he was young, he was told he had a scary look. He’ll joke about how it’s only a scary monster underneath, laugh loudly and say in a serious voice that he’s only joking. He wears the mask around you, never lifting it up unless he’s been offered something to eat and even then he’s so careful, so meticulous about the skin that he shows that you can only catch hints of stubble. He’ll kiss you through the mask, comment at your expression and tell you that one day, he’ll show you his face. He knows that when he doesn’t, he’s doing it because he wants to, because you’re the one who can hold him together as his stitches start to give. 

He can’t see. Tears flood his vision and make the mask tick to his skin in a way that makes him want to rip off the article of clothing. He’s clinging to you, begging for you to hold him and he’s gasping for air, clawing at the fabric of his suit as his knees are meeting the floor. He’s sobbing. It’s a bad episode, they type that he only allows you to see because he knows that you’ll love him all the same afterwards, that you’ll touch him and caress his tired body as he lays on your chest. A fighter and a lover, rips off the mask with shaky hands and has you touch his face, so desperate to tell him that he’s okay.

It’s not the way Jin wanted you to see his face for the first time. Face red and tears streaming but having you stare into him and feeling the cool air hit his heated skin, he relaxes and he’s breathing roughly and waiting for your reaction. He sees your eyes flicker to his scar and the frown that tugs on your lips. He waits for rejection only to be met with a soft kiss, your hand stroking a cheekbone as you push his head to your shoulder and let him cling to you. You whisper words of love to him- you call him handsome and kiss above his scar. He can only cling to you, the delicate way that you treat him is something that he hasn’t felt and he’s so starved for it. He’ll rest beside you, let the mask stay clutched in his hands as your fingers trace around his face, letting the linger on his parted lips.

Sako Atsuhiro:

His hands hold yours, gloves against bare skin, the worn leather of the gloves raw against your finger pads and he can’t help but stare at the way your hands intertwine with his. Atsuhiro has seen your face before, raw and expressive- smiling so wide that your laughter is silent, tears that streak down your face and burn against his neck as he holds you, an anger that makes him want to beg for your forgiveness. You have allowed the masked man to see you and yet, he cannot do the same for you.

He doesn’t know why he’s still kept the mask up when he’s around you. He thinks it has to be some sort of subconscious test that he’s putting you through. You’ve never seen his face and yet you still allow him to be your partner, you allow him to touch you and press his lips against yours, brown eyes that flutter close. You’ve never seen what he looks like beneath. He’s not ashamed of himself, he knows that, but he also realizes that there has to be a reason. It’s only until the news flashes by and there’s an image of him in his attire plastered on your television screen. It’s him protecting you. The public might know his name but they’ll never know who he is, how he looks like. And neither will you.

Of course, he’ll trust you with his life- he still returns to you, after all- but he can’t help but let the black fabric kiss at the skin that you’ve never touched. He can always feel your linger touches at the bottom of the mask, lifting the fabric until his neck is exposed, kissing him that leaves him wishing he never took off the white mask, trembling hands that dance at your thighs and leave you burying your face into his neck. 

Always a showman, always keeping up the act of a charismatic villain, he wants his reveal to be important. He wants for you to gaps, he wants the right timing. It’ll never come, of course. He will plan it for ages, think about upcoming dates and crumple the papers in his hand as it all seems so bland. All it really takes is a day where he’s beside you, your lips pulled into a soft smile as you recount your day, the scent of peppermint wafting in the air as his residual limb is in phantom pain. He looks at you past his lashes, eyes heavy with sleep and your bed is so soft. He’s never realized how soft it was- he’s only realized until then that he’s never slept in your bed. 

You lie beside him, your hand ghosting over his stomach. He's careful to remove his mask, careful to keep his eyes shut as his face becomes cold and hot all at once. He’s breathing heavily. Atsuhiro can feel your eyes on him and he’s terrified- heart beating until it pains against his chest, a terror that settles so deep in his body that he can’t remember the last time he was this scared. He lets out a shuddering breath when he feels your hands cup his face and his eyes are wet with tears as he stares at yours. Your lips are against his, and he’s pulling you close, chuckling sheepishly when you call “handsome”. 

Shigaraki Tomura:

It’s out of habit when he wears Father around you. You’ve seen glimpses of his face before, something so small and quick flashes that you’re only certain that he does indeed have a mouth. Tomura will stand beside you, will carefully allow you to hold his arm and pull yourself close to him and he’ll wear Father. He’ll wear the invasive hand, the hand so heavy and irritating that he wants nothing more to pick at his skin and throw the severed hand onto the floor. The hand will cover his face and while it doesn’t exactly cover his entire face, his hair can make up to cover the exposed skin. He’s faceless to you. He is a prominent figure in your life- cracked hands, sharp laughter and tight hugs while digging his nails into his skin to not touch yours, paranoid that you’ll still disappear under him.

The hands are his staple. He’s rarely seen without his hands whether it be with you or the League. You figure it’s a coping mechanism, you don’t want to push the already sensitive man. Years of practice, he’s skilled with keeping his face hidden. If you catch a glimpse, it’s because he allowed himself to- because he wanted you to see him, to watch for your reaction and see whether you’d continue to seek out the scarred man or slowly reject him. It’s a horrible punishment to himself, one where he begs for you to be repulsed so he can have a reason to stop coming into your open arms. But you don’t, you smile and kiss the back of his hand.

When you’re fast asleep, steady and heavy breaths with a twitch of your brows, he’ll look down at you. The glow from the streetlights will peek between the blinds and he watches you. He’ll trace his knuckle around the edge of your face, a ghost of a smile haunting his face when you smile in your sleep. It’s at these times where he’ll remove the hand on his face, the world becoming a bit tighter. He’ll press his lips against your temple, let the raw, picket-at skin feel the warmth of your sleeping body. It’s a moment of freedom until a familiar hand strikes his body. He loves the room, your body fixed and tucked in and in your home, the soft click of a lock echoes.

He lays beside you. You are curled into his chest, legs intertwined and hands hold onto the thin cotton of his shirt. The fan is a simple noise that fills the room, but it is not loud enough. He can hear the rapid beat of his heart, the blood that pumps into his ears and makes him feel as if he’s trapped all over again. Your room is light in a soft glow from the rising sun, the soft sounds of the outside world and he’s early to visit you. You struggle to stay away, eyes fluttering close until you kiss at his chest, in an attempt to remember that he’s still here. Father is heavy on him, and he’s tired. His skin aches and you’re mumbling to him about a dream you had.

Tomura calls your name and you stop talking, looking up at him with heavy eyes. He’s stoic but his throat tightens and there’s a shift where his apple bobs as he swallows. You watch him with unwavering eyes as his hand rises to remove father. The hand is heavier than he remembers and he lets it fall to your back and suddenly it’s out of reach. His face is bare as he stares at you, eyes that want to close and hide himself. He can feel your hands dance up his body and he’s gasping when you hold his face. You’ve moved closer to him and he’s looking at you, flinching as your lips are pressed against the areas where the fingertips had pressed into his skin. Your thumb brushes against a set of scars on his cheek and he’s nodding when you tell him how he’s gorgeous.

[plush-rabbit]

Mr. Compress Courting Headcanons

A/N: Court is such a cute word and !!! 

Atsuhiro has had his fair share of romantic partners. He’s charming, a bit eccentric, but charming. He’s caring and handsome, thoughtful and always going the extra step to produce a bouquet of flowers from seemingly nowhere. It’s little things that make him so sought after. Due to his role as a villain, he hasn’t had the chance to go out and actually date someone properly, but then he sets his eyes on you and he’s smitten.

He’s been nervous plenty of times but has always masked it with his showmanship, always swallowing the nerves with a simple bow and his expression hidden behind his mask. He’ll trip over his words around you, a slight hint of stutter behind your words that makes you giggle in a sweet way and he’s choking up, an awkward smile that doesn’t seem to be familiar to him. But, despite his nerves, he’s smart. He knows what to say to get you to reveal more about yourself. He learns your favorite color and as if by magic, that color begins to pop more into your life.

Courting with him is this gentle thing. He can be a bit of a flirt, smile a bit too much that the creases around his eyes start to deepen, keep his attention on you and lean close unknowingly, and it’s all kept and given towards you. He’ll smile and chuckle at any joke you say, smile encouraging as you laugh at your own joke. If you laugh at a joke of his, pride swells deep in his chest and it’s released at the next heist, always showing off, ever the showman that he truly is.

He has moments where he can be romantic. While butterflies may cause his stomach to tighten and his face to flush, he won’t let that stop him from making his attraction to you known. A gloved hand will linger on your elbow, slowly trailing down until it meets your wrist, watching how your expression becomes flustered as he interlocks his hands with yours. He’s talking and talking, listening to some story as his free hand waves around, chin tilted upwards to give him a sense of confidence while he feels your gaze on him.

He’s physical, always touching you in some sense with either his palm on your back, hand in yours or shoulders touching as he sits close to you. He can sit quietly, read a book or have you slump towards him as you both watch a show and he will never remove a hand from you, always keeping you close to him. He likes touch, he likes the feeling of knowing that you are close to him, always willing to keep his touch on you and relaxing into his body. He gets to have this sense of a protector role. 

As the middle ground of courting continues, he will start to bring you your favorite things. Things will start to appear in your vicinity- a book you’ve been thinking as of late, a manga that you haven’t had the chance to get yet, a candle that smells familiar- it’s all different things that as time goes on, start to become cutely wrapped. While the villain has a flair for the more pleasing to the eye look, there’s only so much time that he has before the night becomes old and the day starts to give birth. 

He would rather give you something when he can’t see your expression. Always thriving off of expressions, yours seem to be the one that he can’t handle. He knows when people fake a smile, when the enthusiasm is forced and he doesn’t want to risk that when you see your gift. He tries so hard to pick something out for you, a bottom lip bit until raw as he tries to think about what you would like now. He’ll sneak in into your room, place the wrapped box down by your mirror. He’ll walk out, trying to control his breathing and the next day, he’ll avoid eye contact with you only allowing a smile to pass when you gush about the present he left you.

He can’t take you out on dates for specific reasons but he will try to set something romantic up that isn’t just a movie in the room. He’s a fairly decent cook and will prepare something, read the instructions and measure the spices before adding them in, tapping nervously on the counter as he watches the food starting to simmer, a rich scent of garlic and butter wafting in the room. It’s date nights where he cooks for you, pulling out your chair and looking eagerly at you to see if you enjoyed the meal. 

Always a gentleman, he is still a villain who hides his face. Not insecure in the slightest, it’s grown to be a comfort item, something that he will keep close on him, the black cloth curving around his handsome features only to be hidden by a white mask decorated with varying lines. He is a villain who hides his face, who lets his prosthetic rise above him as he hears the soft clicks of the metal. A true show of courtship from him to you, is letting you roam his body. He’ll keep his gaze leveled, his chest still as your fingers begin to tickle at the jagged scar that curves onto his shoulders, will wet his lips with his tongue when your fingers graze at the bottom of his balaclava, his body pricking with bumps as his heart pounds against his chest, rattling ribs and making him unable to breath. He’ll let you touch him and will breathe when you let go, pulling away to stop yourself from looking under the secretive man to only hold the man who leans close to you.

Having Atsuhiro court you is something that happens so quickly and takes time to actually let him trust you. He will hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, let his smile stretch against your skin when you call him name. He’ll laugh and hook his arm with yours in a desperate attempt to keep you beside him. He’ll encourage your interests and bring you gifts that he will fret over until he’s dropping it off. It’s letting him have you touch something he’s kept so close to him. It’s a type of courting where he’ll feign having the power, only to show you that you’re the one who holds everything in your hands.

[plush-rabbit]

Chronic Pain Headcanons

A/N: I hope you like it!!

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Dabi:

Dabi knows how to deal with pain. He’ll bring whatever you need- pain meds, snacks, a warm blanket, you name it and he’ll bring it. He’ll lay beside you, have an arm hook over your shoulders and just wait until you feel a bit better. Pain is something of a close friend, a resemblance of an always present figure in his life, so you having chronic pain, it’s something that he knows how to handle. It’s the one thing that he understands what to do and how to make you feel better. 

Pain is something close to him, it’s what he understands. He may be used to it by now, but he remembers the feeling all too well- the sleepless nights, the dreams that try to make sense of the pain, the weak knees and exhaustion that holds tight onto him. He knows pain, and he knows how awful it is, so seeing you in a state of fatigue and pain makes him uncomfortable. He’ll look away, pull you close and flip through the channels of the television, a large hand rubbing tenderly against your shoulder blade. Ever the expert, he’ll know to do, what medications work nice against aching joints and which pain medication is best for fevers.

In the beginning of the relationship, he’ll bring you fast food- something quick and easy where you don’t have to think or move, just lift some crispy chicken and some seasoned curly fries and eat them. It’s only until he hears in passing- by other members of the League telling him, really- that fast food isn’t going to be helping you, that he actively tries to start getting better food. It starts small, healthier options that soon become picked at rather than eaten that slowly turns into him cooking in the kitchen. It’s not great, a bit burnt, new methods tried and failed and oftentimes, it’s with him, looking downcast on the food, a nervous storm brewing inside of him until he hears the clink of the metal utensil meeting the glass plate. You won't even have to compliment his cooking, you just being there and eating it is enough for him. After the dishes are done, he’ll meet you on the couch and watch some old movie.

The depression is a bit harder for him to handle. He doesn’t know exactly what to do and it’s something where he prefers the chronic pain over the depression- at least with chronic pain, he knows what to do. Sometimes, it's just a matter of him being beside you, limbs entangled as he tells you about his day, recounting the various meetings and running future plans by you. It’s awkward and uncomfortable for him- he wants to make you feel better but he doesn’t know how to so he'll be beside you and talk until he becomes tired. He’ll try to do what he can but there’s only so much he can do. 

Being unable to move because of your own pain leaves Dabi being close to you. He’ll come to your room often, will spend some time with you, learn how to cook a bit better, and while he won’t ever say it out loud, he really does care and he’ll do the best that he can through his actions. He’ll be at your beck and call, not forcing you to move, always groaning as he has to get out of bed to retrieve your charger, will fix the blankets around your body and make himself comfortable again. He won’t ever push you to move, always moving for you. It’s a desperate attempt to show you that he cares, that he’s the one moving and giving you what you need. He’ll lay in the same bed as you and remind you to take your medication as his hand massages yours.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Attentive to your needs, Atsuhiro is fretting over you, always checking in and leaving you small gifts in hopes that you’ll feel better. But it’s never that easy. He realizes that it isn’t enough, that it’s more than you just feeling bad. He knows that sometimes you can’t get up and do basic hygiene for yourself and he won’t judge, he won’t shy away when you want to hold him close. He’ll bring in facial wipes and breath strips, clean and trace the outline of your face as you lay on his lap while curling a strand of your hair around his fingertip.

He’ll do his best and that’s important. He may not know everything that goes on with you, but he certainly tries. He’ll do his best to listen to what you need, to do a bit of his own research such as finding the best medication or ways to make you feel slightly better. He won’t push about your issues, he’ll stay beside you, let you get proper rest as he cleans around your room. He knows how important a space is to a person, how much it can affect their mental state, so he’ll pick up a bit, letting you lie in bed as he frets around your room. There’s no judgement, just him making small talk as he hands you a bag of fruit snacks.

Due to him being around people who don’t have the best mental state due to various factors from their life, he can pick up when you want a distraction or if you want to talk about whatever is bothering you. It might be due to the fact that he’s around them and while they might not be the most talkative of the bunch, he knows what to do. You’ll rest your head against him, hands held, a soft clicking every now and then when a joint gets stuck, and he’ll listen to your woes. He’ll lean against your wall and wait patiently when your voice cracks or when you describe the emptiness inside of you and how you can’t function because it’s just too much. There’ll never be advice from him- he has an inkling of an idea that whatever he tells you, you’ve already tried- so he’ll listen and make a list of what’s the hardest for you and he’ll work from there. 

Chronic pain is difficult. He knows that there’s medication for it, things that he can get you to soothe your burning pain or help you sleep better but he doesn’t know the extent of your pain. He can’t understand how painful it is for you so he will take your word on something if you tell him how painful it is for you to get up and he’ll fix it around you. He’ll make the bed, carry you somewhere else while he cleans a bit and sit next to you, asking what you want to eat before he can go and find a way to get it. He’ll massage at your sore muscles and let you rest against him. He enjoys having you against him, it reminds him that you want to be near him, that you’re willingly touching him and seeking comfort in him.

When you cling to him late into the night, he’ll wake up bleary eyed, wondering why you’re clinging to him so tightly and he’ll ask if you’ve had a bad dream until you speak. Your voice breaks, a horrible, harsh whisper that echoes in the silent room and it’s only then does Atsuhiro realize that you’re shaking. You’re clinging to him and you’re so desperate, frenzy in a way to keep him close to you, and it’s nights like these where he’ll stay up, running his hand up and down your spine, his lips pressing against your temple and when you’ve long fallen asleep, he still remains awake, looking up at the ceiling and continue to trace over your spine.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Dealing with his own issues and also putting them away until he can no longer recognize his issues, Tomura will place all his attention on you. He'll focus on you in an almost unhealthy amount, never wanting to leave your side, always overbearing to make sure that you’ve eaten and that you’re well-rested. He’s eager to please, always beside you, wanting to make sure that you’re comfortable. He understands that sometimes you don’t have the energy to actually do things with him so he will be understanding about that, nodding his head slowly and watching a movie on a cracked phone screen. 

There’s an understanding with him, he understands that you might not always feel great and that sometimes, just moving from room to room could take so much out of you, so he’ll never push. He’ll enter your room, crouch to make eye contact with you, and brush stray hairs away from your face as he asks how you’re feeling. Depending on the answer, he’ll nod and bring back some pain medication that he found and a bottle of juice. He knows pain, he’s aware of it and it’s been inflicted upon him as long as he can remember, and sometimes he was his own abuser, so he knows how it can feel, to have your bones feel so heavy, your body crying out with every movement, feeling that the sharp gust of wind is harsher against your feeble body. He knows. He’ll lie beside you, give you sleeping aides and try to find the strongest pain meds that he can find.

He’ll try to let you know that you’re okay. He’s protecting you- always by your side and on your side, he’ll let you lie in bed and help you stretch in order to regain a bit of flexibility back. He’ll let you cling to him, your head buried into his chest as you huff and puff, and he’s sorry. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he knows that forcing you to do something that causes pain isn’t a great feeling, but he promises that he’s doing it for you. He’ll rub against your legs, trying to ease the pins and needles and let you replenish all the energy lost before starting one more time.

Depression is difficult. Having chronic pain is difficult. Things intermix and symptoms blur for which they belong to and he’s frustrated at everything. You feel horrible and he can’t help- he can’t just fix it. He isn’t one for absolute control, but he doesn’t want you to feel bad to the point that you can’t get out of bed. He’ll do his best to bring your favorite snacks, hoping to have you get some type of joy out of the snacks and rest beside you, talking about the current plan for something regarding the League, pulling out his phone to reveal a blurry video that ends with a scream and broken glass. Pride will swell in his chest when he sees that you’re smiling at the video, making some sarcastic remark. It isn’t a total fix, but it is a start to something positive.

He might never understand how bad you feel, might never get the moodiness that comes with it and the overall exhaustion with everything, but you mean a great deal to Tomura, so he tries. He’ll hover and have you eat your fruits and vegetables, eat meals with you in an unspoken attempt to let you know you aren’t alone. You’re one of the few people to give him a chance, so as many chances as you need, he’ll give them all to you. He’ll rest beside you, have you talk about whatever is on your mind and never press, only nodding along. It’s all about letting your grievances out, having you just putting everything out there so he can try to figure out what will help.

[plush-rabbit]

First Anniversary - Villains Ed.

A/N: Is this sad enough?? I always struggle with angst cause it’s so complicated and ahh, okay, hope you like it!!

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Bubaigawara Jin:

Jin will try to sleep through the day. If he could, he’d sleep through the week, he’d sleep through the month and let his body melt into the mattress that he swears still smells like you. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone. He doesn’t want to open up to anyone and he’ll stay asleep throughout the day and ignore everyone who knocks on his door.

It was hard enough losing you the first time. And now, he has so many firsts to go through. He has holidays, birthdays, waking up from a nightmare- he has to do everything on his own. Again. He thinks he’s cursed. He’s cursed to live a lonely life and for a time he had pushed that thought out of his head. You came along and as cheesy and cliché as it is, you gave him another reason to fight. You became family. And now you’re gone. 

You died because you were protecting him. The hit was meant for him. He can still remember the blood that pooled out of you- how warm it was, how your hands pushed at his chest and you couldn't make up your mind about your final words. Do you reassure him? Do you tell him to run? Do you tell him that you love him? He can never know, because soon after, feathers were directed at him and he was pulled away from you. His hands were stretched out and he missed you already.

He’ll smoke and he’ll drink. He’ll ignore the others and he wants to make a copy of you, he wants to have one last image of you that isn’t so broken. But he never could; it would destroy whatever mental stability he has left. The League- his original family before they were formed under a new name- can only give him pitiful looks and it’s tense, a horrible feeling that leaves him feeling worse than before.

Jin never even got to hear your final words and that has to be the worst part for him. He has you clothes packed away, perfume bottles stored and hidden because he knows that if he were to have even a hint of you, he’d lose it all over again. He hadn’t even told you goodbye.

Chisaki Kai:

You had gotten in the way. And for what? Kai- Overhaul remains furious at you. He is a child who never learned how to properly deal with emotions and he’s furious. But he powers through the day. He ignores the looks given to him. He’ll cut off any sentence that seems as if it might lead to you. He hates what you did to him.

He allows himself to grieve for a short period of time. He locks himself in a room, he curls up on the bed and cries. Tears trace down the curve of his face, it’s graceful and horrible and he feels disgusting. He’s never known what it was like to not breathe, never had the unfortunate luck to be on the receiving end  but now as he lies in bed and he cries, he hates the feeling. 

He’s back to normal once he’s cleaned up. No one dares meets his eyes during the day and even if they do, they don’t mention the red rims, the unshed tears that still linger and everything goes as normal. He’ll sit in his office and type at reports, he’ll file and distribute drugs. As far as he’s concerned, everything is normal. It’s just another day, same as it has been last year.

He consumes himself in work. A busy mind cannot be led astray so he’ll stay busy until he’s worn himself ragged. But, when he can feel his eyes drooping, he’ll push himself because he hates the day and he might as well expose himself to your monstrous image. You’re bleeding and he promises that he can save you, his gloves are sullied with dirt and blood and his hands, once pure, are coated in your blood but he’d thrown away from you before he has a chance to activate his quirk. And then you’re gone. 

Overhaul promised that he would protect you- that you both would live to see the world without quirks. You had promised him that you would be behind him every step of the way. You broke your promise and he stays furious at you because it’s easier to stay mad than to let himself wallow in grief.

Dabi:

Dabi is self-destructive in every way. He’ll drink even if it burns, he’ll smoke even if the smoke does nothing but aggravate his lungs. He’ll go looking for a fight and use his quirk until his skin is sizzling and he’s doubled over, throwing up from the pain. In his drunken, sick daze, he can imagine and even feel your hand that rubs at his back and it makes him dig his nails into the brick wall. 

There’s a reason why he hadn’t wanted to have a relationship. He’s seen what having close ties will lead you- he’s had first hand experience in knowing what happens when you allow someone into your life. But he let you and that was so idiotic of him. He hates the heartache in his chest and he wants to scream and let his flames consume whatever is near.

The League will try to talk to him, they’ll offer him breakfast and slide a water bottle towards him and he’ll deny it. He knows what he’s going to go do. He wants to drink on an empty stomach. He wants to make sure that whatever fills his body is nothing but poison. He doesn’t want to be cognitive for the rest of the day. The only thing he wants to feel is the pain that will ache in his bones and entire being. And he knows that when he’s hungover, when he’s still groggy, he’ll call your name and he’ll hate himself all that much more.

It was his mistake to let you know that his body couldn’t handle extreme amounts of heat. He was already at his limit. But he had an ace up his sleeve but you hadn’t known about that. He can still remember the heinous flames that were searing through the air, the push of your hands and the smell of burnt flesh. The smell was never an issue until that day. You had pushed him out of the path of certain death. You took his place and now he was here, doubled over and head filled with cotton.

Dabi can only handle so much before he goes back to the base and collapses. He’s throwing up and to his ears, it’s the most wretched noise he’s ever heard. He pushes his hair back and his skin burns as it bleeds and the smell of burnt flesh fills the room and he hates it. He hates the feeling of loneliness. You were one of the few things that held him together, that gave him a reason to keep pushing and you were taken from him. He passes out on a bed and he’s alone.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Atsuhiro is an odd mix between being quiet and too loud. He’ll catch himself in silence, stare at his hands or the wall across from him and his hands will always be intertwined with one another. He’s silent for a long time until he realizes and then he can’t breathe and he doesn’t have a filter. He’ll ramble, he can’t bear to be in silence any longer and he’s gasping for breath, talking to any poor, unfortunate soul that happens to cross his path.

He’s an affectionate man. He’s a man who knew what he wanted, and he had what he wanted with you. And now, he doesn’t have you anymore. He’s lost a bit of his flair, what once came naturally is forced. He sits in silence and he stares at a picture of you, one of the few that he manages to have, and he’ll cry beneath his mask. The tears will pool and flood over. The first of everything is always the hardest; that’s when everything truly sets in for him, over and over again. 

He has to talk to somebody. He has to let his words just spill even if it’s about absolutely nothing and for the most part, it is always about absolutely nothing. He tries to keep your memory alive, continuing reading the manga you once loved but it’s just too difficult because he’ll never see your reactions. The League will offer their condolences and they’ll listen to him ramble and they won’t mention how his voice cracks or how he seems to just walk in silence for periods of time only to start up the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Scars litter his body and he’s always been proud of them, always playfully showing them off to you because they were battles won but now there are new ones, fresh ones that you never kissed or touched. He touches a fresh scar that runs under his ribcage and shudders at the still sensitive feeling. The trap was meant for him, he can still feel the sharp pierce of the fabric, and instead, you ran and blood stained his clothes and he remembers being horrified. He remembers how you feel almost immediately and how your eyes were wide with shock.

He knew that life is a fickle thing, death has no favorites when it comes to who lives but if he were being honest to himself, if he were to voice his thoughts out loud, he was so sure you two would have grown old together, that neither of you were going to die. Atsuhiro was so sure that at the end of it, you wouldn’t have died but you did. You died and you can never kiss him or hear his stories.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Tomura wants to act indifferent to it. He wants to pretend that your death means nothing to him and he can pass  off the façade for a solid two minutes before he’s crumbling to the ground and decaying what he can. It’s a cruel, sick thing that happened and he thinks that he deserves it, that he was never meant to have happiness, that everything for him is to just complete his mission and that’s it. 

He’ll fall into a heavy depressive state. He still does what he has to do, he still works towards his goals and if he were to be honest, that’s the only thing keeping him afloat. It takes so much energy to push himself to get out of bed, much less take care of himself. The room he shared with you is a mess and he everything of yours is shoved away, he sleeps on your side of the bed until your scent is gone and he’s forgotten how he’s slept before. 

He’s more irritable when the time is starting to approach. He snaps and it’s not uncommon to see him dust somebody over a small altercation. He likes to think that the more destructive that he is, the faster the pain will go away. He’ll throw a fit, scream and bleed until he’s collapsing from exhaustion. He won’t think clearly and in public, he has a wild look in his eyes that’s a swirl of agony and wrath and he’s in pain. 

You were never supposed to take the fall for him. But he should have anticipated it happening- he knew that you cared so much for him, that you wanted him to see the fruits of his labor, you wanted him to reach his goal. And you would have done anything for him. And you had. You were pierced and he can remember how your feet could barely touch the ground, how the blood flooded out of you and he’s sobbing into his pillow. He’s clutching your favorite blanket and he can’t bring himself to stop the pained screams that tear from his throat, he can only hope that the door muffles any sound.

Your things are kept safe. They were thrown into boxes, into old backpacks, into anything that can store them and they still smell like you. At his lowest point, Tomura will smell an old sweater of yours, he’s hold in his hands, and smell the perfume that can barely be smells, the sweet scent of it already fading and he thinks of ending his endless torment, to dust the possessions that he has no use for but he can never bring himself to touch the things you once adored.

[plush-rabbit]

League Of Villains W/ CIPA S/O

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, blood

A/N: I did a bit of research while writing this so I hope I got it down!! The injuries are described early for Twice so it’s under a “read more”

Bubaigawara Jin:

Jin doesn’t understand the “no pain” part of it. It takes a bit of time for him to grow accustomed to the no pain part of it. He’s one to care and not want to treat you like a child so he won’t really check up on you too often. He’ll let his eyes scan over you and if you aren’t limping or actively bleeding, he’s offering for you to sit next to him.

It takes a real scare for him to understand that because of CIPA, you quite literally do not feel pain. So you won’t limp. And it’s seeing you bleeding from your mouth, blood spilling past your lips and dirtying the floor, that he freezes. You didn’t cry. You didn’t so much as flinch, you only brought your fingers up to your mouth and curled them, causing more blood to spill and he’s quick on his feet. He’s bringing you bandages, opening your mouth, apologizing when he presses too deep even if he has no real need for it and he’s cleaning you up.

He’s a worried mess afterwards. Constantly running his hands over your body, grabbing at each joints and pressing down on them, trying to find a crack or scratch, so desperate to check that you are in one piece. He’ll hold your body, try to find anything and if he does, you aren’t allowed to move whatsoever. You’ll stay seated until it’s properly cleaned and bandaged.

He’s a caring partner, making sure that you wake up without a scratch, that you stay on your side of the bed, old blankets and pillows acting as a barrier against the wall and floor, and he’ll stay close to you, a light sleeper to hear anything that goes bump in the night. He’s careful around you- a lot less forceful and tough. The tight hugs turn into hand holds where he rubs his fingers over your knuckles, the harsh kisses and nips against your body become soft kisses where he holds your hip tenderly with one hand while the other scratches against the wall.

Jin treats you like you are porcelain. You mean too much to him to allow yourself to get hurt. He’ll cycle between berating you and cooing over you, his nose pressed against your collarbone, hands that wander and remain clean as he tries to find blood. Sometimes, he wishes that he would, just to know that he found something and that it isn’t hidden from him. 

Dabi:

Dabi will keep a careful eye on you. He’s watchful, jumping in front of danger, pulling you out from it and there’s a few times where he slips, where he’ll punch at your shoulder in affection or knock lightly against the top of your head with a fist only to freeze and watch you, his hands quick against you, rubbing at your shoulders, trying to feel if anything is broken or dislocated.

He acts aloof. He’ll pat you down, press feverish, carefully lined kisses against your neck, slip clothing off and call it adrenaline, have you lay carefully on the bed, let his hands slowly roam over your body, sit on his knees and scan his eyes over, trying to find a cut or a bruise. There’s no use to warm his hands- you can’t feel it- but he does so anyways, presses his hands against your muscles and joints and tries to soothe what would ache others. 

Cool, blue eyes watch over you, hands that tighten into fists when you continue to push yourself, sitting straighter and inching his chair to one side so you can sit beside him. He’ll grab your plate before you can and taste the food. If it burns his tongue, he holds you from eating it, if it’s cool, it’s safe to eat. He watches you eat, reminds you with a nudge of his foot to eat slowly, to focus on eating rather than the conversation.

If you fight against him, you have to keep up. You cannot be behind him in the slightest. He isn’t risking you getting hurt because you couldn’t keep up and he’s having you train, taking breaks when he starts to feel the slightest ache in his bones, knowing that if you could, you’d be wincing and collapsing with a heavy sigh. 

Dabi will kiss at your body, run his nose over you, intertwine your legs with his and once he knows you’re asleep, he’ll pry himself off of you and have you lay still, hands at your sides and fluff at your pillows as he searches for bruises or cuts that you don’t want to tell him. He’s protective, overtly so, pulling you back and keeping you on a tight schedule. He’s not going to lose you because you thought you could push your body.

Iguichi Shuichi:

Shuichi tries to act like the caring, yet austere partner. He cares for you, but he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s treating you like an infant so he’ll roll his eyes and look at his phone, trying to focus his attention on playing a game. However, if he were to hear a bump, he’s immediately looking towards you, rising to his feet and searching for bumps even if you weren’t the one who got hit.

If you ever get hurt, he’s on you immediately. He’s pulling you towards him and away from battle. He’ll try to keep you seated, telling you not to get up and he’s unsure of what to do. He needs to help clean society but he can’t leave you alone knowing that you cannot feel pain and are unable to properly take care of yourself. He’s berating himself, freezing and burying himself in the crook of your neck, hands that grasp against you and keep you close as he can hear the grunts and curses of his comrades and he’s so nervous on what to do.

He holds you tight enough that he leaves bruises and he hates himself. Looking at you makes him feel sick. He brushes his nose against the bruises, eyes closed and he’s sorry, he’s remorseful and he’s holding you gingerly, and he knows that you don’t hate him, that you won’t ever be angry at him but it makes him feel bad knowing that he hurt you.

He’ll keep you safe. He has his hands on you, putting a thin blanket above you and holding a thermometer in his hands to make sure you don’t overheat. He’s making sure you have everything you need. The injury could range from a bruise to a sprained ankle, but he will be at your beck and call. He’ll let you do whatever you want to him- he’ll let you touch his scales which he’s still insecure about, play with his hair and kiss him, press yourself close and tease when you can feel him go still

Shuichi sleeps with gloves on when you sleep with him. If you want to hold his hand, he’s shaking and there’s this nervous feeling that bubbles deep within him. He watches with careful eyes, and there are a few times where you’ll be sleeping and he’ll remove the mitten and drag his finger along your cheek and watch as your lip twitches, reacting to him and he pulls away like you’ve burned him. He’s so careful, grabbing at your hand and rubbing it along his scales, checking for any scrapes that could have appeared and nuzzling into your chest, appreciating your warmth.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Atsuhiro is incredibly intrigued. It’s pure curiosity at first. He finds it nothing short of fascinating and when he sees you fight, to hold your own, he’s impressed. You get hit and come back up without so much of a groan and you continue to fight.

It’s until he sees a partially nasty hit that he internally freaks out. You’re thrown against the ground. It’s heavy and he stiffens at the sound and when he turns, eyes wide and full of fear, you get up. Blood is pouring from your head, drowning out your vision in your left eye and you’re standing. There isn’t so much as a stumble, you get up and you continue to fight and he knows that you have to be in pain- that you should be- that you shouldn’t be taking as many punches as you do and he’s quick to touch you, to capture you in a marble.

He doesn’t know what to do. He’ll take your anger, the fury that will burn in your eyes and lash against your words but he can’t risk bringing you out and having you fade in front of him. This is the first time he sees you so weak and fragile and he makes sure that he has everything necessary to save you. He’ll have Twice make clones of you, make a blood transfusion and bring you back, he’ll do whatever he can.

He’s highly attentive afterwards. You don’t leave his sight. He can’t even ask if you have a headache because of course you don’t. He can’t tell if you’re falling asleep because of a concussion or because you’re just tired and it terrifies him. He’s never felt so powerless. He’s utterly powerless in front of you. 

Atsuhiro is a mess. He’s fretting over you. Trying to encourage you not to go out on missions and if you do, to stick close by him, pressed against his hip. He’s nervous, shaking and pulling you close, mumbling apologies and putting you in a marble if you begin to bleed. He'll take care of you afterwards, clean the wound and regularly put ointment on, check it constantly to see that you’re okay. He’s going to become highly protective.

Shigaraki Tomura:

There’s a certain level of curiosity that he has with you. He’s peering at you constantly, watching as you walk into a wall and can only blink at it, your hand going to rub at the sore spot but that’s instinctively- something you’ve imitated over the years- and you do just that. It’s timed, four rubs and there’s not a single wince, no teary eyes that glance in his direction. Tomura watches you carefully.

He’ll tease if you’re the one who caused the injury to yourself. He’ll flick your forehead, pinch at your cheeks and let a smile creep when you grin up at him at his signs of affection. He’s smiling and telling you to watch out, comparing you to a bird who flies into a window and he’ll wince when you hit him on the side.

He’s the least likely to cause a fuss if you fall down. However, if he sees that you take a nasty hit, he’s narrowing his eyes and getting rid of the threat as quickly as possible. He’s on you in a heartbeat, clicking his tongue when blood spills from an open wound and he isn’t happy.

He’ll grab the first aid kit, clean the wound, and bring out the bandages. He’ll hold them open and right before they can touch you, where his hand is close to your skin, he falters. He calls someone over and has them place the bandages on you. He can’t risk touching you. You’re so delicate- you won’t even feel it if he accidently did. You’d stare and maybe you’d cry but it wouldn’t be from pain and he would feel it and- he has to claw at his neck to calm down. He doesn’t touch you, he’s nervous and he’ll watch as someone does what he should be doing.

Tomura is careful with you. He’s already careful with most- if not all- things and people. But it’s different with you, he’s not risking anything with you. He’ll wear gloves constantly, flinch when you go near him to touch him and he’s so clingy at the same time. He’s holding onto you, head buried against your neck and legs intertwined with yours and he’s accepting your touch of care, his eyes constantly on the bandages that decorate your skin and he’ll joke about getting you a bubble.

Toga Himiko:

Himiko notices fairly quickly about your condition. She cuts you- and when you don’t flinch against her blade, the warm trickle of blood that slowly begins to flood out, she thinks she has found her match, her soulmate. She’s eager, putting her sanctions against the wound and salivating at the thought of finally being with you- the closeness that only a few people will ever dream of but never have the blessing to ever experience it.

But then you begin looking pale. She’s a thoughtful partner and she’s asking if you’re okay and you say you’re fine. But then you begin to say and she can see the tremor of your body and you don’t do anything except just stand there with blood pouring from you. She’s curious, watching your every reaction and when she presses the blade against the open wound and you don’t flinch, she gasps. She pulls away and she’s quick to close the wound.

She’ll apologize and press her lips tenderly to the bandaged area, holding your hand like you were made of glass and having you lie down, not allowing you to get up or adjust yourself unless she’s helping you. 

She’s mentioned how she wants to become those that she loves. But it’s different with you. Seeing how vulnerable you are made her scared. It would be so easy to get rid of you. To have something sharp strike against the soft parts of your body and you wouldn’t cry, you’d just stand there, red covering your body and it makes her sick. 

Himiko will still keep her knives near you, show them off and take your offer to help her clean them but she’s always watching, making sure that not a single one slips and nicks at your finger. She’s constantly searching for cuts, her blood lust making her shake and blush but she’s careful, soothing you over with water, cleaning at the incision and wrapping the stark white bandage against your body and keep her lips against yours until she can’t breathe and she’s having you lay on her because she can support the both of you, she can handle the pain that you have never felt.

[plush-rabbit]

Mistletoe - LOV

A/N: I have feelings for all of them(⺣◡⺣)♡*

Bubaigawara Jin:

Jin will claim that he doesn’t care about the silly tradition but in reality, he really does. It’s cute and while he doesn’t have much experience being under one, he does know how to kiss. He’s loud and boisterous, bouncing in his place and narrowing his eyes through his mask when he sees one, turning his head to find you or even just to make sure that no one else is under one with you.

It’s a bit of a mixed bag with him, he’s eager to kiss you but he doesn’t want to. Kissing you would mean that he would have to pull up his mask and he doesn’t want to do that- even if it’s just a fraction that he’s raising and he doesn’t think you would enjoy a through the mask kiss. He wants the first kiss to be special- or at least not weird you out. It’s constant back and forth with himself where he’s just unsure of what to do if the time were to ever arise.

And the time does come. He’s underneath one with you, and you’re giving him a cheeky smile and he’s so nervous. His hands are clenching and unclenching, sweat is running underneath his mask and he wants to kiss- he’s even leaned down and resting his forehead against yours and he’s telling you to be quiet so he can think and he’s flinch when your hands tug on the bottom edge of his mask, whimper and whine and you’ll close the gap.

The kiss through the mask is sloppy. Its lips against fabric and his hands are hesitant around your waist, drumming along your clothes until they hold you tight and he’s breathing roughly through the mask and he’s jittery, bouncing his leg and he’ll pull away and take you somewhere private and he toys with the edge of his mask until your hands cover his and he’ll nod, letting your hands replace his and lift his mask past his lips.

Jin is so excited afterwards. He’s bouncing and wrapping you in a tight hug where he’ll spin you around, and just pepper kisses over your face until his mask is slipping past his lips and he’ll press a kiss against your forehead. He’s holding your hand and leading you around, sticking close to you and sharing a meal together where he’ll let his mask rise past his lips give you a quick peck before returning to his comfort object.

Dabi | T.T.:

Dabi finds the whole thing childish. He’ll participate, but he isn't exactly eager about it. He’ll roll his eyes, pull someone into the kiss, but that’s about it. He isn’t chasing you around, he isn’t forcing himself to move out of the way for a plant, if he rather not kiss, he’ll be upfront about it- a simple shove sends the message quite clear as he walks away without a second glance.

But then you’re under one- with someone else at that matter and he can’t help but narrow his eyes and stare. You wave our hands in a frantic motion, a nervous smile on your lips and he’s already peeling himself from the wall and walking towards you, only to be stopped when the other nods and offers a high-five. He stops midway and he just watches as you leave the spot and then you catch his eyes and you make your ways towards him, already hooking an arm through his and walking elsewhere.

For some reason, you both end up under one, he’ll stare blankly at it, slowly blinking and when he looks down, you have this devilish grin on your face, almost like you made sure you both stood under it and before he can accuse, your lips are against him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down, a smile stretching your lips and hands that smooth over his chest.

The kiss is hesitant for a moment, still lips against yours, his breathing shaky with half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks. He’ll pull away, glance around and pull you away as you laugh behind your hand. He pulls you somewhere quiet, and his breathing is ragged as he looks around for someone and when you’re about to call out his name, his lips are on yours. It’s fast and heavy, breathing roughly above you, hands that hold on too tight to your hips and a body that forces you against a wall as you cradle his face or play with his hair.

After the kiss, Dabi keeps you close to him, a sly smirk on his face as you’re sat either next to him or on his lap. His hand is threaded with yours, only leaving to press against the small of your back or when you grab onto him. He’ll tease lightly, act aloof and call you a great kisser but with the way his leg bounces, eyes that drift towards your lips, you can tell he’s a bit nervous, sticking close to you and staying relatively silent other than the occasional tease.

Iguchi Shuichi:

Shuichi is a nervous wreck when it comes to the plant. He’s never been under one due to spending his life in isolation and others perceiving him to not be conventionally attractive so he stays clear of them. He’ll walk under one normally, not trying to let something as small as an old tradition dictate his life but if he happens to be under one with someone else, he’s raising his shoulders a fraction and walking away without a glance spared.

He’s close to you- he stays near you enough for a conversation to happen but as he notices the plants strewn about, he starts to separate from you, inching further away, still sticking near you, of course. He doesn’t want to risk standing under one with you- the rejection would sting a bit too much this time. He lets his insecurities show- subconsciously covering his mouth with his hand as you near another decoration, nodding along and not really speaking to avoid showing his canines.

When you two happen to be found under one, he’s still. He keeps his hand curled over his mouth, claws scratching against his scales, and eyes that are wide with fear. He mutters how you don’t have to, a slight shake of his head and he’s already backing away until a flash of hurt flashes across your face and he lowers his hand and takes a step towards, and he’ll lean, soft and barely an inch but it’s his consent and he gasps when he feels your lips against his.

The kiss is shaky- lips meeting scales in a bit of an awkward kiss. He freezes under you, shrinking in on himself, his hands balled into fists. He’s warm, and smoothing out his hair once you pull away and there’s this nervous tick with him, his eyes shifting around, the constant, repetitive motions of him playing with his hair and lack of speaking that just becomes overwhelming and he’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away to either his room or somewhere isolated.

Shuichi is clingy. He’s holding your hand and looking away from you, knees pressed against his chest and he’s just talking about anything that comes into mind. As the conversation continues, he’ll inch closer to you, legs that lower until they’re parallel to you and once the conversation dims into a whisper, he’s nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and asking for a proper kiss.

Sako Atsuhiro:

Atsuhiro is actually eager to get under the mistletoe with you. He keeps you close to him, not wanting to let others get near you and take a kiss from you. He sort of drags you around the place, hand in yours as he looks for one.

It’s a cute tradition- he’ll admit. He likes the idea of showing his feelings to you with something bold. Or as bold as you can get. It’s enough to know that you also have to accept the kiss, that you more than likely share the feelings and he’s just turning corners trying to find one and wishing he had encased one in a marble beforehand to plant the damn thing. When he finds one, he’s acting nonchalant about it, slowing his steps and hooking his arm through yours and talking about the most mundane thing until you both land under the mistletoe.

The kiss is a teasing one. He’ll lean close to you, fan his breath across your lips, a hand that is light against the back of your head, curving over to hold you steady and his other hand holding you by the chin as he inches close to you and he’ll kiss your cheek. His grin is wide as he sees your disappointment- face flushed and eyes that were half-lidded that go wide and narrow and he can’t help the laugh that bubbles out.

He’ll beg for your forgiveness- telling you that he couldn’t help it- that he just got nervous and he backed down once he was too close. He’ll lower himself, hands mimicking the position from before and he takes a gulp of air before he kisses you, light and sweet, leaning towards you and pulling away with a grin, giving you another peck.

Atsuhiro will not leave your side. More than likely, he’ll pull you away somewhere secluded and just hold you close while he plays with your hands, the mask off, and he’ll ponder if he should remove the balaclava but stops when you lower your head against his shoulder and just play with his own hands, looking up at him and calling him mean, sealing the sentence with another kiss.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Tomura finds the whole thing pointless. Granted, a lot of the feelings stem from the fact that he’s never experienced one before but he doesn’t see the need to so he sneers at the plant and walks along. He doesn’t care for it and even if his heart does skip a beat when he sees you under one, it means nothing.

He won’t avoid it but he doesn’t seek it out either. He just walks along and then you see him and walk towards him, pointing out the plant and asking if he knows what it means and he’ll give a silent roll of his eyes. His hands will twitch and he’ll give you the once over when you’re not looking and he’s internally groaning.You seem to be walking somewhere, pulling him along by the sleeve of his shirt and you hold this too wide of a smile that makes his suspicious until you both stop and you point upwards to a mistletoe.

The kiss is soft for just a second- lips hesitant against yours, nothing more than feather light and he pulls away for a second, licking his lips, muscle brushing against your lips, catching a taste of your chapstick and then he’s onto you again, rough and holding you tight like he’d drift away if he weren’t. He holds you close, hands nudging past your shirt until his index and middle finger are against the warmth of your soft tummy.

He pulls away with a gasp for air, chest heaving and lowered against your shoulder, face burning as he realizes what he’s just done and he’s still, shoulders jumping and he’s mumbling an apology under his breath, his arms slowly wrapping around your, a hand clenching a fistful into your shirt while the other pinches at the fabric and he’ll breath a sigh of relief when you kiss at the crown of his head.

Tomura won’t do much for the rest of the day except keep you close by him and just spend the rest of the day with you. He’ll have his face buried in the crook of your neck as he lies above you, a hand intertwined with the occasional brush of his lips against your neck, brushing over the pulse and nestling deeper into you when you scratch his head. He’ll ask for another kiss- hesitant and below a whisper and when you nod, he’ll rise above and dip his head down, pulling you into a softer kisser.

Toga Himiko:

Himiko is the one who put the mistletoes up. She thought it would be a cute idea. She’s participated in the little tradition before she fled society and actually quite enjoyed it. She likes the idea of the romance, thinking it’s a cute way to confess feelings for someone so when you come around, she’s getting as many as she can and placing them around the building- kitchen, hallways, living areas- even closets on the off chance that you’ll be there.

She doesn’t force you to be under one but she will nudge you- asking you to get her a drink only to follow you immediately and stand under one only to shy away once she meets your eyes. She grows flustered under your stare, a heavy blush dusting at her cheeks and she presses her lips against the tip of your nose and runs off, hiding her face and sliding down a wall. She’ll more than likely get teased by the other members of the League- Jin and Stushiro, being the ones to give her a comforting pat on the pack.

The next time she sees you under a mistletoe, she’s hyping herself up and calmly walking over to you, only to grow giddy once you both stand under the plant. She’s not shy, she’s just worried you won’t want to kiss her back- which is fine- but it’ll hurt considering that she does like you a lot and a rejection is something she’ll be hurt by. She’ll stand in front of you, her hands pulling on the bottom of her cardigan, pulling on her sleeves until she has sweater paws and twiddling them around while she rocks back and forth on her heels.

It’s a meet-halfway type of kiss. You both lean in and meet. It’s short and sweet, a squeak leaving her lips and she’s smiling into the kiss, pulling away with a wide grin, and grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you into another kiss. She bounces on her heels and leans into you, her smile still evident on her face and once she pulls away, she’s holding onto both of your hands and dragging you along.

Himiko is extremely giddy after the kiss. Constant bouncing, a wide grin as she plays with your hands and sits on your lap or vice versa- she honestly doesn’t mind which one as long as you’re close to her. She’ll be nuzzled into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around you with interlaced fingers and with speckled kisses placed against your face.

[plush-rabbit]

Red Scarf

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: ꒰ •͈́ ̫ •͈̀ ꒱ˉ̞̭

Time Frame: Shortly after cutting off Overhaul’s hands

You wait patiently for him. His scarf in your hands as you fiddle with the ends of it, the bright red, now a faded color with frayed edges and thinning spots. The news plays in the background and it dulled out before it has the chance to register in your head. You watch with unfocused eyes, a nervous prayer under your lips as his image flashes against the screen and you clutch the scarf in your hands, nails digging and straining against the fabric as you register the news, the image of a car flipped over and the casualty of a hero.

Your phone buzzes and without taking your eyes off of the screen, you tap against the couch and give a glance at the screen, your mouth pulling into a thin line. You tap and pull against the green button and whisper a strained greeting against the receiver.

“I take it you saw the news,” Giran answers, his voice gruff as he skips the pleasantries. 

“He hasn’t answered my calls,” you whimper, eyes watering. “Is-”

“He’s alive,” is his simple reply to your unasked question. “I- It’s best if you see the-” he struggles to find the correct words and makes a sound of displeasure- “rest for yourself.”

“That fills me with more worry,” you chuckle nervously. “I- He’s alive, at least.” You pause and run your thumb above the soft fabric. “Right?”

“Alive and kicking.” You hear a click in the background and a sigh released into the receiver. “Just try not to freak when you see him, all right?”

“Why would I freak?” You ask, glancing away from the screen to look outside your window. “Is- Do you know if he’s visiting?”

“I can’t say,” he says nonchalantly, clicking his tongue. 

“Giran, please,” you whine, lowering your head, bringing the scarf to bury your nose against his scent that faintly lingers. “I haven’t seen him in a long time and your advice is to not freak when I see him?” Your eyes flood with tears, blurring your vision and despite everything, you don’t care how pitiful you sound to the broker.

You hear him sigh. “Look,” he starts, a low groan on the back of his throat, “he said he might. I advised against it- we all did-” he corrects and you furrow your brows- “he’s not in the condition to go and visit you right now.”

“But he can jump off of a moving van?” You ask incredulously, slumping back against the couch, closing your eyes as if that would shut the television off. “How bad?” You ask, taking a shuddering breath as a storm brews in your lower belly. The man remains silent and while you can respect the privacy that he’ll give to the League of Villains, you can’t handle the vagueness that comes with it. You hold the scarf close to you, fisting it tightly in your hand until your knuckles pale.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” he comments. “I did what I could.”

In your room, you hear a lock click and against the walls, a rhythm is tapped against the walls. A single tap. A quick double tap. And finally, a single tap and the weight on your shoulders is lifted. You stand from your couch, muting the television in the process and smooth your shirt, tugging nervously on a strand of hair. The scarf is placed down into a clump, the ends getting lost within the haphazardly thrown pile.

“He’s,” you say in a soft voice voice that escapes through a gasp, giving out a weak cough. “He’s here,” you whisper louder. “I- I have to-”

“Listen, just don’t freak out,” he repeats. “Oh, and tell him to call me in the morning, all right?”

“Uh, yeah, will do,” you comment, waiting patiently as the shadow that stretches across the floor grows nearer, and when he pops into view, mask off and balaclava still pressed against his face, as he gives you a faint smile, standing near the edge of the living room entrance. “I-” tears well in your eyes and you take a small step towards him- “Bye Giran.” You hang up the phone and place it against the armrest carelessly, minding it no attention as it teeters along the edge and slides down into a dull thump where you once laid. You call his name, and the black fabric on his neck twitches. 

He holds himself still in front of you and as you take another step towards him, a hand outstretched ready to touch him and hold him close to you, he tilts his head and offers you a sad smile, raising a gloved hand up, effectively making you stop in your place. A look of hurt flashes across your face and you slowly lower your hand, clutching it close to your heart.

His eyes glance behind you where the television still plays on silent. His tongue flashes out and wets his lips. “Do you know what he did?” He asks, eyes distant and tone wistful. You give a halfhearted shrug and your hand hand curls, pulling on the fabric of your shirt. “He did a lot of awful things but what they aren’t reporting is that he also,” his voice catches and he stares at your through unshed tears, “killed Magne,” he says through a pained whisper.

You startle and your lips pull into a frown. “Atsu,” you whisper, brows knitting together in sadness, “I’m- I’m sorry. I know how well you two got along.” You try to sympathize, cautiously taking another step forward and he looks away from you, his right hand coming to clutch against his left arm, fingertips stuttering as they touch against the dark fabric.

“He also took my arm,” he states, sucking in his bottom lip and letting it go with teeth dragging against it. Your eyes go wide and you breath out a simple question. “He took my arm,” he reiterates. “Hurt,” he whispers, and his hand falls away from his left arm and he slowly pulls off the gloves, wincing at the action. “It hurt a lot.” His right hand is untouched, slender fingers that stretch and flex without a hint of pain against his face. His left hand is metal, a steely silver that glints under your lighting and a darker gray against the wrist. He flexes the fingers and his eyes furrow, brows coming together under the mask and they get stuck at a bend and release with a soft click. “I- I’m sorry,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his arms fall against his sides and he dips his head.

You watch as the silver joints flex, a soft drum against the air as he flexes both hands and you let out a shaky breath, your arms crossing over each other to tug against the scarf. “I- Can I hug you?” Your voice breaks and he raises his head, eyes watering and gives you a soft nod.

“Gently, dear,” he says in a soft tone, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I can’t afford to ruin my arm right now.” 

Your steps are quick as you edge towards him, light and fluttery and before you can wrap your arms around his torso, you pull away and look up at him. “You aren’t missing a rib or anything, right?” You ask, your hands brushing above his shirt, where his ribs lay.

He smiles softly and covers your hand with his. “No.” He strokes your hand with his fingertips and pecks at the top of your head. “No, ribs missing.” He confirms, pulling you close to him, his right arm coming around you and palm pressed flat against your back. “I promise.” He stumbles into your arms, face pressed against the top of your head as his words are breathed into you. 

Your eyes are wide, tears spilling over and dampening his shirt. Your hands are flat against his back, smoothing over the raised bumps of shirt. He hisses softly and you try to peer up, getting stuck on the brooch, frowning as you notice a speck of dried blood attached onto the outer ring. A heavier hand is pressed against your back. It’s heavy and warmer than you could have expected, his hand close to you, fingers that click experimentally and drum against your spine.

You make a choking sound, a hiccup that gets stuck in your throat and makes it impossible to make any other sound that one of heartache. He whispers your name, holding you closer to him, his heart erratic against your ear and with a shuddering intake of breath, you clutch your hands and pull taut against the waistcoat, straining the fabric until you feel as if it could rip under your grip. 

“I’m safe now,” he tells you in a gentle voice, his hands brushing against your back in soothing motions as your breaths fan against his chest, chest heaving and you close your eyes and presses yourself against him, cries muffled as he holds you in silence. You whine against him, mumbling broken syllables of his name, tears streaming down your face and staining both you and him. “I’m all right. I promise.”

“You didn’t- Why didn’t you tell me?” You croak out, voice muted against his chest. “You could have called,” you whisper harshly. “You could have at least told me you were alive, Atsuhiro. The only news I get from you is on the television and- and I know who you are and I’m okay with it but,” your voice falters and you take a deep breath, “but why didn’t you at least message me?”

His sigh blows against ruffled strands of your hair, and his lips are soft as they press a harsh kiss against you. “It was too much to process in a short time.” He closes his eyes and his grip tightens against you. “I know that death comes with the job-” he chuckles shortly when you give a firm pat against his back- “but seeing Magne, I-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “I had to make sure that I was fully able to use the arm before coming to you.” There’s a certain tone laced into his words, heavy and light, anguish mixed with hope and he whispers the words to you, ending it with a kiss that sears into your skin and he pulls away from you, fresh tears that pool in his eyes and his smile tight as it curves on his face.

“This isn’t a goodbye, right?” You ask, eyes unable to reach his and focusing on his lips. “It sounds like one.”

His smile relaxes and his teeth peek between his parted lips. “No, dear, it’s not a goodbye. It’ll never be a goodbye.” His hands slide away from your back, lifted and his right hand cups your face, thumb brushing against your lower lip. His left hand hesitates to cusp your face, flinching once the metal touches at your skin, and coming to a soft hold, with the thumb mimicking the other. He smiles at you softly, eyes brimming with tears and when you cup his face in your hands, he scoffs lightly and turns his face to press a kiss against your palms, eyes slowly fluttering to a close to open again, eyes fixated on your floor. “I really do apologize for not showing up earlier,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your hand.

“You’re here now,” you remind him, letting your hands flutter from his face and onto his neck, curving down until you reach the end of his balaclava. 

He smiles at you, a teasing glint in his eyes as his smile stretches. “Always so impatient, hm?” You part your mouth ready to argue when he steps closer to you, hands falling to hold onto your shoulders, and his lips press against your temple. “Sometimes I think you’re only dating me for ravishingly good looks,” he whispers against you, giving you a playful squeeze.

You gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. “How ever did you figure it out?” You ask in mock surprise, the hand still on him sliding down to his chest where it rumbles with his laughter, deep and rich, full of joy and his prosthetic moves to hold your hand delicately. 

“I suppose because I’m with you for the same reason, my love,” he says sweetly, squeezing your hand in his and running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You step back and he watches you with a curious gaze, head tilted, a light pink dusting past the edges of his mask. “I guess we’re both a bit bad at keeping secrets.” His heart beats under your palm, your hand slowly peeling away from his chest, and coming to hold the prosthetic, encasing it in both your hands. 

He hums in thought and gives a curt nod to you, his hands leaving you and resting across his chest. “How tragic,” he whispers below his breath. “I’ll meet you in bed?” He asks, already turning on his heel without waiting for an answer. 

You watch as he trunks the corner, his shadow disappearing and you’re left in your apartment with a soundless television recapping the events of the day, dry, tear-stained face and you smile to yourself, wrapping your arms around yourself and walking to turn off the television. You grab at your phone, and hold the red scarf in your hands, burying your face into the soft fabric and smell at his lingering scent. It’s heavy and soft as its wrapped around your neck, the fluffy, pillowy fabric bunching around your neck and shoulders and your lower half your face to hide beneath it, gripping the fabric in both hands, your phone awkwardly pressed against your palm as you walk towards the bedroom where you can hear soft humming.

[plush-rabbit]

Giran’s Daughter

On surface level, you aren’t like your father at all. You’re too caring, too open with your expressions and you’re too soft. But you were still raised by your father. Still raised by the same man with unwavering loyalty and confidence who acts as if he doesn’t care. You act like you care, act like you’re too weak to do much but you’re stronger than what others assume.

Shigaraki:

Giran introduces you to him at the same time as Dabi and Toga. He finds you insufferable at first, you’re quirk isn’t anything physical, only similar to Giran where instead of making memories vague you just give them excruciating headaches that last for five minutes. You aren’t worth the trouble with your quirk is what he tells you in front of him but what you lack for flashy quirks you make up for speed and skill. You’re quick to dodge the flames and knives and hands, quick to pull out your own and barely manage to escape Kurogiri’s portal.

You aren’t like Giran at all nor do you look much like him except for the smile. You give a wicked grin when people underestimate you, immediately showing off just how painful a headache could be when you turn the tables and end up with bloody knuckles.

You’re a simple reason for him to jerk off at night. Shigaraki doesn’t have many options when he wants a quick session and he isn’t going to spend his time looking for the perfect material when you’re already there. It’s quick and leaves him feeling good and you don’t even know about it so there’s really no harm done.

But then after one night, he’s hungry and he goes and gets a snack. You’re sitting there still dressed in the outfit from that mission and you’re just staring off. He has to snap his fingers a few times in front of you until you’re broken from your trance. You look at him with tired eyes and mumble an apology, muttering how you often just get lost in your thoughts.

It’s a long night that night. You two have a talk about nothing in particular, just about the mission as you swirl the watered down contents in your glass. You talk to him as a person and he can admit that you’re attractive but when the flickering lights of the room make you smile and joke about how there’s a ghost, he realizes that you aren’t so bad.

He follows you around for the next couple of weeks. He reminds you of a puppy in that sort of way, walking near you and sitting beside you after you offered him a taste of friendship. He’s nicer to you. He lets you tag along on missions without much complaint as long as you stick near him. He engages with you more often, offering to let you go into his room and trying (but failing) to clean up. He doesn’t like it when other members tease you, often cutting their rambling short and all it takes is a gentle hand on his bicep to calm him down.

Shigaraki won’t ask you out officially, it’s more of a slow progression into things until you’re making out on his bed, with your hands entangled into his hair and mouths wet with heavy breaths. He doesn’t bat an eye when you lean on him during meetings, only shifting so you’re more comfortable. You two already spent so much time together and he’s a lot less irritated when you’re around so it only made sense for the two of you to move onto something romantic where you stayed with him at night and pressed kisses down his neck.

The relationship is laid back. There’s nothing extravagant about it (not like there can be) but it’s still really nice to be with him. You feel safe with him, you seek him out for comfort and bury yourself deep in him, sighing in relief when his arms wraps themselves around you. Dates are spent inside, eating junk food and watching some random movie that happens to be on, ripping it apart and ending in cuddles and wandering hands.

Shigaraki is respectful around Giran but if you want to snuggle up to him while he’s talking to him, he’s not going to push you away. Your father isn’t thrilled but he has a sort of respect for the League and Shigaraki so he isn’t going to say anything other than a side glance and twitch of his hands. He’s still your father at the end of it and as much as he’ll try to look at this as a good thing, he still feels protective over you.

That being said, Giran will still pull you aside and attempt to give you a talk about dating and horror stories that he’s heard from around the block. You laugh him off and tell him you feel safe around Tomura. You have this faraway look in your eyes and your smile is something that he hasn’t seen in a long time, it’s soft and small but it isn’t fake or forced. He’ll scratch the back of his head and shrug. Your life, do whatever you want, kiddo.

Compress:

He’s smitten with you the moment he lays his eyes on you. You’re just so pretty and wow, you can cause really painful headaches, that’s just interesting, please say more. He’s genuinely excited to hear more about you, glad that his appearance covers up the redness that’s spreading across his face. He just really likes to hear you talk about your quirk and he knows that you don’t have the chance to show off very often just what it is by the way you stand up straight and have this wide grin.

If there’s ever a mission, he always asks if you want to come along, saying how you’re a good assistant and heavens! He didn’t mean it in a bad way, just that you’re good help is all. He likes having you around, likes knowing that you have his back just in case something goes amiss. During a mission, he’s much more likely to show off if you’re there. He’s a showman at heart, he loves being in the center stage and having eyes on him. But knowing that you’re watching him, well it just makes him so much more excited to perform.

He only realizes that what he feels for you is a strong admiration when you take a hit meant for him. He’s startled that you’d do that for him, he knew you were caring but you still risked your life for it. It hits him hard like a freight train and he’s left breathless and thanking you. His demeanor changing to something gentler as he tells you how magnificent you were.

Atsuhiro doesn’t leave room for doubt that he likes you. He’s always complimenting you, always throwing his arms around you and lets you be around him without his mask. If you complain you’re cold, he’s covering you with jacket and buttoning it up until you’re snug. He’s patting your head and letting his hand slide down to cup your cheek and only giving you a smirk when you turn flustered.

When he asks you out, he has to make sure everything is perfect. He knows you like him, you stick around and give him applause after he does something extraordinary. You go out of your way to spend time with him and always ask if he wants to spar rather than any of the others. But why is he still so nervous? Why is he still fretting over the little things like the place where he’ll ask you if you want to be more? The timing of it? It’s all so frustrating and he hates it.

He talks too much and it isn’t him monologuing; it’s different this time. Words are spilling out and he’s lost his composure and he feels like a teenager with his first crush all over again. But you just stay there, giving him a half smile and by the glint in your eyes, he knows you’re enjoying this all too much. Ugh, Atsuhiro really wishes he wore his mask. But then you kiss him and return his feelings and he’s stunned and flustered and grateful that he didn’t wear it.

The relationship is a lot. He wants to show you off and get you everything that you want and deserve but he can’t do that for a lot of reasons. But he’s still a villain with a rather useful quirk so most of the time, he does bring you things he think you’ll like and if the plastic chip is still on it, well that’s something he can get rid of later. He’s sweet and that’s all that really matters.

Atsuhiro likes it best when you touch him on your own accord. He loves the confidence, the shaky hands that turn steady as soon as he relaxes into your touch. He loves knowing that he has you and that you actually want him back. He melts into your touches, if you want to wrap your arms around him, he’s adjusting himself until you’re uncomfortable, if you want to lean on him, and he’s going to fix his posture. Cup his face and press kisses around his face and he’s putty.

He isn’t frightened of Giran but he does respect him. You are his child, and you are dating a villain whose quirk requires touch and he’s down an arm. He understand the odd looks and when Giran pulls you away only for you to brush him off and situate yourself back on his lap. He tries to keep the PDA to a minimum around him; he doesn’t want the man to feel awkward just because you happen to be in a loving mood.

Giran has no real bad blood with him so he’s fine with you you’re dating and fine, he gets that you don’t need his approval, but give your old man a break, he’s just looking out for you, he swears, cross his heart and hope to die. He knows you can handle your own but given your current lifestyle, you don’t make the best decisions.

[plush-rabbit]

NSFW Alphabet - Atsuhiro Sako

A: Aftercare (What they do/act like after sex)

After sex, Atsuhiro is going to make sure that you’re okay, he’s not one for rough sex but he does want to make sure that you joyed it and will help clean up any spilled fluids that stain your thighs, mouth, and/or chest. He’s going to clean you and kiss the crown of your head before he falls asleep.

B: Body part (Their favorite body parts of their partners)

He loves to kiss the space where your neck and shoulders meet along with your collarbone. If he’s going to leave any marks, it’s always going to be there. You make the breathiest sounds and he can you shudder under his mouth while you mewl his name.

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He prefers to shoot down your throat. It leaves no mess and there’s something about seeing how well you take him down your throat that he finds alluring. He tastes rather sweet with a slight bitter aftertaste.

D: Dirty Secret

Early on in the relationship, you two had slept together and following that, you had started to hump him in your sleep. He knew you were asleep, he whispered your name but you didn’t hesitate. He could feel how aroused you were and it made him feel pride that even in sleep, you wanted him. He jerked off while you while humped him and had lifted up your shirt to tweak at your nipples. Has never told you and never will.

E: Experience (How experienced are they?)

He’s fairly experienced. He’s quite charismatic and attractive which did attract quite the number of people.

F: Fantasy (A fantasy of theirs)

He’s a bit voyeuristic. A fantasy that often gets him off is having people watch. He likes the thought of people seeing how you clench tight around him and chant his name in a hoarse breath.

G: Got Caught (How they react when they get caught having sex)

Voyeurism may be his fantasy but since he hasn’t disclosed that with you or gotten the consent of you allowing for people to watch, if you both are interrupted, he’s pausing immediately and covering you. If he has your consent- he’s putting on a show.

H: (Are they groomed down there? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

He’s trimmed. It’s not a full bush, but he does have hair.

I: Intimacy (How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex)

Sex is usually romantic. There isn’t anything rather degrading or filthy during it unless you both are in the mood for it. He’s more romantic during the lead up of it, wanting to have you melt under his touch before he actually puts his hands on you.

J: Journey (Their ideal way of leading up to sex)

Atsuhiro has a nice lead up to it- kissing down you neck, fingers ghosting over your sex and pushing himself hard against you. He wants you gasping and fisting your hands into his hair while you hump against him. (Oh the memories those action bring is enough to make him give into you.)

K: Kinks

He loves watching you trying to get off. He likes to see your fingers pump yourself and swirl your fingers in your mouth before you go back and slick your sex. There’s something how your face and chest flush with excitement, how your tongue lolls out and you squeeze your eyes shut trying to get closer to your high.

L: Location (Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.)

Usually the bedroom. There are a few times where he’ll try in a public area but the risk of being caught for who he is rather than what they are doing, is something that puts a stop to their actions.  However, there are times where the thrill outweighs the risk.

M: Masturbation (How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to)

He rarely masturbates. He doesn’t have a high libido, so he doesn’t really care about masturbating. However, when he does get off, it’ll be to images and fantasies of you.

N: No (A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do)

He won’t do degradation. He’ll use terms like “slut” and a few adjectives before it but he won’t go any farther than that. He wants sex to be nice and he wants to make you feel good. If you really want him to say rather humiliating things, he’s willing to try but it’ll end up coming off awkward and forced.

O: Oral (Do they like to give or receive? Are they skilled?)

He’s going to make you cry with his tongue. He can make good use of it and have you convulsing on his face in about a few minutes. He takes great pride in it. He prefers to give, likes to watch your face scrunch and hands grip at his hair go to cover your mouth so you don’t make that much noise.

P: Position (Their favorite position to have sex in)

He prefers missionary. He likes to watch you under him and presses kisses to you. He’ll make you keep your eyes on him, holding a tight grip on your face while he makes you part your mouth and let a dribble of drool ooze out of his own mouth. He also likes having you on top. He likes watching you bounce above him, gripping onto him and leaning your chest above his face.

Q: Quickie (Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.)

He’s willing to do a quickie but prefers actual sex. He likes taking his time but with a quickie, he’s able to feel and see how desperate you are as you cling to him, wrapping your hole around him to reach your own high greedily.

R: Rough (How rough they are, or get, when in bed)

Sex with him is usually gentle. He isn’t found of something rough unless you both have the privacy and time to. Even during the more passive sex, he still leaves love marks on you- around your neck, collarbone and thighs. Sometimes there will be handprints on your thighs and/or bum.

S: Stamina (How long they can go before they tap out)

He can go for a few rounds but sex usually ends after the first or second round. He gets worn out and likes to rest afterwards. However, if you still want to get off, he won’t complain if you ride him or play with yourself.

T: Toys (Do they use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.)

He isn’t a toy person. He rarely masturbates so he doesn’t see the need for a toy. He’s been curious, window shopping online with toys, reading the descriptions that the toy have written.

U: Unfair (How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.)

Atsuhiro is a big tease. He likes to hear the pitiful whines and whimpers of you begging him not to tease, your thighs trembling as he wraps his mouth around your sex and pulls away all too soon. He also enjoys being teased; you like to see the demeanor fall and be replaced by something so much needier.

V: Volume (How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.)

He’s fairly quiet during sex. Low moans that escape past his lips, a chant under his breath of your name as he reaches his climax. If he does get loud, he usually buries his cries against your lips or neck, clamping down and licking over the wounds.

W: Wild Card (Random sin-canon of any sort)

He loves thigh riding. To see you get off on just his thigh and the growing spot of arousal on his pants as you move back and forth, can make him twitch just by watching. He loves how needy you look, rubbing yourself on him, until you cream on him.

X: X-Ray (How they look with their clothes off)

He’s fairly lean with hints of muscle and a few scars around but they’re rather faded and small. Down there, he’s long and lean, with a slight curve and a thin vein on the underside of his cock.

Y: Yearning (How often they need to have sex)

Sex happens about once or twice a week. If you aren’t feeling up for it during the week is fine by him, he doesn’t really have the urges all that often and if he did, he can jerk off. He doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable by performing fellatio on him.

Z: ZZZ (How quickly they fall asleep after having sex)

He falls asleep relatively quick. He’ll take care of you, clean you up, and provide emotional comforts if you wanted to stop suddenly and overall just make sure that you’re good. He’ll compliment you as he starts to fall asleep, words dying out in a whisper.