#straight up told her i had zero plans of coming home

[cinewhore]

Mom wants to come visit me for Christmas

[theblueflower05]

The Sweetest Sylaung

A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!

Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader

Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.

“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift

The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions

At least that’s what you had discovered so far.

The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.

You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.

It was in your blood.

The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.

“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.

Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.

“Sorry, cu-”

“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”

“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”

You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”

“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”

The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.

Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.

“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-

“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.

She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.

The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.

I mean, what else is there to do?

Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”

He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.

Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.

A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.

“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”

“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.

Which it kind of is.

Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.

Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.

It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.

Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.

You’d heard about interspecies hookups.

Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.

Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.

“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”

You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.

You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.

When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.

You tell her of the fact, often.

Kiri tells you to stop projecting.

———

The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.

“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”

“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.

Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?

You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.

So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.

Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.

But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.

Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.

He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.

At the hope of seeing you.

You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.

Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.

And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.

“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.

“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”

Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.

“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”

“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.

Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.

“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”

Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”

He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.

Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.

“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.

“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.

Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.

“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.

“No”

Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.

He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.

“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.

“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”

Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.

The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.

“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.

He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.

Beautiful.

“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”

You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.

You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.

And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over

“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”

You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.

“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”

And you could, a few weeks or so ago.

When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.

He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”

“Of course I did”

“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”

“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”

You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.

He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.

He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.

“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”

His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.

Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”

Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.

He makes you so easy.

“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”

Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.

If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.

Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.

You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.

He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.

“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.

“Hmm?”

“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.

“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.

“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”

“Neteyam! Hey!”

The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.

It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.

The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.

“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.

Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.

Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.

Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.

It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.

———

You dont know that though-

No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’

Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?

You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.

What if he told Neytiri?

That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...

…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?

You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.

“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…

“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.

“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.

The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.

“Y/N?”

You’re so stupid. “What time?”

You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”

“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”

———

The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.

When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.

You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.

“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.

That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.

It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.

You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.

“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.

Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.

He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-

His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.

His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-

“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”

“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”

And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.

You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”

You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.

No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,

“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”

Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.

You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.

With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.

“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.

“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.

“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.

He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.

You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”

“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.

You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.

He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”

He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”

“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.

“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.

“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”

He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.

“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”

You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”

It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.

“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.

It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.

“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”

You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.

He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.

You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.

“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.

The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-

You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.

It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.

Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.

He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.

He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.

His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.

“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”

He doubles down and you’re a goner.

The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-

Which reminds you.

Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.

You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.

”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.

He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.

When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”

You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-

When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.

“Who said I’m done?”

You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”

“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”

His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.

“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.

It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.

“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.

Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.

You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.

It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.

It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.

You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.

“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.

“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”

When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.

“Please” you wail instead “please”

The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.

Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.

You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.

It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.

You’re so in love.

“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”

Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.

You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back

“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.

Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.

When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.

He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.

He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.

You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.

“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.

“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.

The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…

It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.

“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”

You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”

He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.

Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.

You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.

———

Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.

He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.

There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.

He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.

It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.

Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.

Minds his own business.

So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.

Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!

[roosterbruiser]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?” 

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips. 

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers. 

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?” 

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family. 

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!” 

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!” 

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin. 

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.” 

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup. 

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.” 

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly. 

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand. 

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.  

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on. 

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!” 

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!” 

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.” 

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!” 

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.” 

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.” 

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.” 

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.  

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!” 

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss. 

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched. 

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.” 

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out. 

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says. 

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!” 

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?” 

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!” 

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.” 

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched. 

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says. 

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins. 

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker. 

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly. 

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously. 

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.” 

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back. 

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.” 

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him. 

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!” 

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.” 

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life. 

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms. 

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.” 

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink. 

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!” 

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.  

Bob looks at you--you���re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh. 

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all. 

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.” 

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy. 

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

[theblankstar]

Still Wakes the Deep, but chaotic ass headcanons.

•Raffs cannot stand the sight of guts or gore, so when he woke up to having fish guts strung up on his wall, he proceeded to sob for three hours straight.

•Gibbo, as I've said before, loves to go fishing. He has a collection of lures- but also a big book on different types of fish that can be found in the water. He usually catches and releases, but some prized ones sit in his home.

•O'Connor cannot stand the sight of fish. Just in general. It makes him feel queasy for some odd reason. The texture of the scales makes him shiver and recoil in disgust.

•Archie hates going fishing. Now, contrary to the belief that he likes the quiet, he has zero patience to sit around and wait for the fish to get on the lure, leading to him just jumping into the water and grabbing it with his bare hands.

•Rennick sometimes buys fish in bulk, so that the crew has to eat it. If fish is not being served for at least two weeks in a row, he will actually get really upset.

•Trots, knowing how much some of the crew hates fish scales, will purposefully hide them in the crew's clothes in order to get a good laugh about it. However, this does end up biting him in the ass. He woke up to having fish scales all over his floor.

•Addair loves the smell of fish. He loves it so much, that he even asked Roy for the oil that came from the fish, after he harvested them. He proceeded to pour it in the water tanks, and everyone smelled like fish for two weeks straight.

•Muir hates fish. He loathes the fishes. He will never get over the fact one of them smacked the absolute life out of him as a child. I mean never. He will always hate fish.

•Innes, however, loves to go fishing. He's tried to convince Muir that all of them were not bad, and then the man got smacked by one. Innes never brought up fish around him again.

•Dobbie likes to hide stupid, fat fish plushes around the rig. Just randomly, someone will find a fish plush in their bed, or even in a cargo crate. Dobbie has yet to get caught doing this mischievous act.

•Banky is indifferent to fish. He neither likes nor hates them. He will eat them if presented, and will recoil at the sight of the internals. He has no opinion on fish.

•Roper went fish spearing often. He had a spear he made himself, and would often use it to catch fish he finds on a day out to a river/lake. You can always tell when he plans on going out, or not going out.

•Roy loves fish. He is a chef after all, and cutting them makes him more than happy. He knows that when fish come in, he can make all sorts of dishes for the crew. Sometimes even able to mask the taste/scent of fish in some dishes.

•Gibbo has poured cold water on Dobbie to wake him up, and stop him from snoring. The next day, Gibbo got a piece of ham and a piece of cheese thrown at him by Dobbie; igniting a food fight in the canteen.

•Trots told Archie to stop whining over getting oil on him from repairing the helicopter, and then proceeded to complain when he got soap and water on him from the washing machine.

•Raffs smuggled a whole box of kittens onto the rig one time. He found twelve deceased seagulls on his bed the next day, and promptly returned the kittens back to land.

•Trots hates pickles so much, to the point he snuck the ones he was given into the other's food (Gibbo + O'Connor). Needless to say, when they found out, he was forced to look them dead in the eyes and slowly eat the pickles.

•Roy wanted to serve strawberry shortcake for a dessert to the crew, but when he walked into the kitchen that night, he found Boyd hunched over eating piece after piece. He never saw her the same.

•Trots absolutely hates laundry duty, but he loves doing the dishes. Though, if a piece of soggy food touches any part of his body, he will screech like a girl and drop the item. He's broken many plates and bowls because of this.

•Finlay can't stand the smell of musk. There was a time where the rig had to use ocean water for showers, and she chose to just bathe in oil at that point. Needless to say, she smells like oil constantly now.

•Trots hates the color yellow. He hates it with a burning passion. When his uniform at first, was yellow, he dyed it with the other blue clothes to make it blue. Everyone's clothes ended up coming out a green.

•Archie had a pet parrot as a child. He brought said parrot onto the rig, and when he let it outside, it flew off, never to be seen again.

•Trots ate a piece of coal as a child. It wasn't a small piece, no, it was a medium-sized chunk. He had to get surgery to remove it, so on his abdomen is a large scar from it.

•Muir can't smell the stench of fish. He absolutely hates fish with a burning passion. Why? He went fishing one time, and a fish slapped him across the face.

•Trots loves the texture of fish scales. He's even jokingly tossed them at another member of the crew, who proceeded to scream at the top of their lungs.

•Muir once broke a window with a baseball as a child. He ended up blaming it on the wind, and the proceeded to break another window with a baseball.

•Trots used to keep a pocket knife with him at all times, but he once accidentally slashed the bedpost to his bunkbed, causing it to collapse.

•Addair loves horror. He's never admitted it to anybody, but he loved any type of horror that came out. However, sit him in front of The Ring and he will scream.

•Trots can't stand people that talk too much, he finds it rather annoying. However, when he himself starts yapping, he does not stop... For this, he got a cow's eye hidden in his stew one time, and never shut people up again.

•Innes once tried to dye his hair green with grass as a kid, and it ended up coming out a strange purple color. So for two months straight, he walked around with purple hair he hid under a hat.

•O'Connor absolutely loves the color pink. So much to so, he attempted to dye his uniform pink by mixing red and white clothes together, but he was unaware the detergent he was using made things orange, hence his orange jumpsuit now.

•Gibbo went fishing a lot. He had an entire collection of different types of hooks and baits. However, this collection was stolen and he was upset about it to the point he cried.

•Trots has a plush bear he has to sleep with every night. It brings him a comfort and a happiness when he holds it- akin to that of holding a person. However, the others teased him relentlessly for it, so he just took it back home.

•O'Connor has a collection of trading cards. He sometimes plays with the other members on the rig- and if they don't know the game? He might bend the rules every now and then, depending on if he's winning or losing.

•Rennick would never admit it to anyone, but he can't stand sour foods. Despite him being a sour person to just about everybody, he will never admit he prefers something like chocolate over lemon heads.

•Roper absolutely loves to go fishing- it's one of his favorite things. At times, he was allowed to take a select few people to the lower parts of the rig, and teach them how to fish. Sometimes they'd keep them, sometimes they didn't.

•Caz hums a lot of songs from his childhood, and whenever someone asks him what he's humming, he always replies with "your mom". Needless to say, he's made a lot of people mad.

•Finlay knows how to both wrestle and box. She's been able to knock out somebody in a single swing. While she does sometimes flex her muscles, she usually just shows people how to fight just in case.

•Addair has let his children/grandchildren dress him up in princess/fairy costumes and let them put make up on him, as well as nail polish. Somebody found pictures in his room from these moments, and teased him relentlessly.

•Douglas genuinely likes fish. If it's being served that day, he will ask EVERYONE in the canteen if he can have their piece of fish. Most people do give it to him, as it's funny to see him gobble down about ten pieces of fish in under five minutes.

•Dobbie is the crew's gossiper. If there is a rumor in the rig, he will find someway to make it spread like wildfire. Even if he has to twist some of the truth. He's a messy bitch who lives for drama.

•Gregor knows how to hijack a car, helicopter, and ship. He's an expert in mechanics, so it's only natural... One time, he fucked with the controls of the rig for shits and giggles, and when people panicked, he literally cracked his knuckles and fixed it.

•Davros has accidentally ordered double stock of what was needed, so he ended up hiding most of the materials in the pontoons. Rennick was not happy, nor anybody who had pontoon duty.

•Muir always will hate fish. He loathes fishes. If he sees a fish, it's quite literally on sight. The other crew have watched him genuinely tweak out from having fish for lunch/dinner.

•Innes knows how to twist his foot 180°, and also can pop his arm bone out of his shoulder bone. This has led to him ending up in the infirmary because people literally thought he had broken a bone.

•Banky is the smuggler for the crew. He's managed to get candy, cigarettes, and a few other things. He has yet to get caught by Cadal or Rennick, leaving him a very reliable person if you want to get something from the mainland.

•Sunli wanted to be a musician before coming onto the rig. However, he had a career change when he fell into a thing of oil stored in the warehouse. He tells people it was his "awakening".

•McLurg finds the smell of fish to be rather soothing. Every time he's had a hard day, he stands at the railing of the rig and takes in the environment. The smell of fish calms him down.

•Bruce played with dolls as a child. He loved designing clothes for them- and even wanted to be a fashion designer. Now, for the crew that have children who also like dolls, he makes clothes for them.

•Brodie tried to cut his own hair in middle school, and ended up having one side of his head shaved, while the other side was a choppy mess with kitchen scissors. He had to get his head completely shaved because of this.

•Boyd has never popped his bones/cracked the tension out. So the first time he did it, it made so many popping noises that the crew around him thought he had cracked something, and had to undergo a serious examination.

•Alex has smacked the shit out of Trots with a fish. He literally took the fish he was holding, turned to Trots, and threw a fish at him, causing the man to have a red mark in the shape of a fish the rest of the day.

•Raffs loves knitting, crochet, and sewing. He's made beanies for everyone on the rig- even people you would never see him interacting with. He always makes some sort of hand-made clothing for their birthdays, as a gift.

•Scooby genuinely can't stand sweets. He says the taste is too overbearing, but he loves sour/bitter things. He eats dark chocolate and sour candy like he had lost a bet. He absolutely loves bitter/sour things.

•Archie originally wanted to be a doctor, but due to him having to move constantly, he never got the proper materials. When he finally settled down, a friend of his got him a position on the rig as a helicopter flyer.

•Kelly has put fish/fish meat (or scales) in people's pillows as a prank. He almost got fired one time for replacing Rennick's chair foam with fish organs.

•McLoud isn't actually loud, contrary to his name. He's pretty quiet and keeps to himself most of the time. However, when he does talk, his voice is pretty raised.

•Dunbar consumed a piece of memory foam as a child. He then spat it back up, claiming that it did not taste like a piece of soft milk-chocolate.

Might make more later lmao

[ragingbookdragon]

Rudy pulled Alejandro aside before the team was about to depart. “Colonel, we need to talk.”

“Can it wait?” he asked.

“Alejandro,” Rudy said, voice lowering seriously. “I can’t get your wife to answer any texts.”

The Colonel’s eyes widened, and he started patting his own pockets for his cellphone, but he cursed himself, remembering he’d left it in the jeep before Graves had betrayed them. He strode to the table. “We have to put the plan on hold.”

The group looked at him, their expressions confused; Price stepped forward. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“My wife,” he replied. “Rudy cannot get her to answer. Something is wrong.”

“Perhaps she’s busy?” Soap offered.

“No,” Rudy said, shaking his head. “I’ve texted her over the span of the last few hours. Nothing.”

Price let out a sigh, looking to Ghost. “You?”

Ghost nodded. “I’ve met his wife. She’s needed here to run things smoothly. Losing her wouldn’t be wise.”

“Alright. All of you, pack up, move out.” He looked at Alejandro. “Where is she?”

“Home,” he replied, fear ebbing into his stomach. “She is home…alone.”

***

She opened the door to her home, gazing curiously at the armed guards outside in the dark. “Can I help you?”

“Missus Vargas?” one said. “You need to come with us. There’s been trouble at the base where your husband works.”

“Oh, God, what’s happened? Is my husband okay?” she worried, turning to grab her purse and jacket; she bent over, putting on her shoes.

“We’re not entirely sure, ma’am, but he told us to come collect you and bring you to safety.”

She started to open the door further when it suddenly hit her and she slowed to a halt, looking at them. “What’s the code-word?”

The two soldiers froze, sharing a quick glance between them. “Beg pardon?” one excused.

“The code-word,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “My husband and I have a code-word. He would’ve shared it with you if he told you to come for me.”

“Mrs. Vargas,” the other sighed. “Please, time is of the essence.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand.

She stood there, staring at them. “My husband didn’t send you.”

“This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“It will if you cross the threshold of my house. I would advise you to retreat before you make a mistake you can’t undo.”

The one soldier reached for his gun. “You have one last chance to come quietly.”

Her jaw clenched and she inhaled deeply. “Elegiste a la esposa del coronel equivocado.”

***

Alejandro was on the edge of his seat, hoping to not see fire in the distance as they came up over the hill before his home. What he hadn’t expected to see was one of the Shadow’s jeeps abandoned, and his wife sitting on the front step of their house, a haggard look on her face.

“Detén!” he yelled, and Gaz hit the brakes; they climbed out and Alejandro ran up to her. “Mi alma!” he froze, eyes wide in shock at the sight of slick crimson covering her face and body. “Qué te pasó?” he breathed, the fear in his stomach turning to straight ice.

She lazily looked up at him, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, puffing the smoke from her lungs; her free hand held up the whiskey bottle. “Drink?”

Alejandro bent down, feeling along her body. “Dónde estás herido?”

She tried to shrug off his hands. “I’m fine.”

“Dónde estás sangrando?”

“I’m not wounded.”

“Lo siento, debería haber estado aquí para protegerte. Lo sien—”

“Alejandro!” she yelled, and he fell silent, watching as she stared him down, put the butt of the cigarette in her mouth and warned, “It’s not my blood.”

His brows pinched in confusion. “Who’s bl—”

Ghost emerged from the house. Alejandro’s eyes zeroed in on the item he was holding, shock dripping from him like each droplet of scarlet that came from the metal baseball bat. “I think the Missus maintained a very good home defense.” He looked at Alejandro. “You might want to have professionals clean the brains out of the carpets.”

She stood up from the step, one hand holding the whiskey bottle, the other throwing the cigarette out to stomp its life out; she yanked the baseball bat out of Ghost’s hand and turned around, walking down the steps. “Take me to the bastard who brought enemies to my house. Tengo un regalo que me gustaría devolverle.”

She stood at the jeep door and Price asked, “What’s that?”

Tossing something his way, she muttered, “The nametags from their uniforms.”

“Where are their dog-tags?” Soap asked, and she gave him a dead-eyed stare.

“Los empujé por sus gargantas antes de golpearlos hasta la muerte.” She didn’t say anymore, climbing into the jeep.

Alejandro walked over to them, sparing a glance back to the house. “I…should call someone to clean this up.” he took Rudy’s phone and dialed a number, talking quietly to someone.

Soap looked at Rudy. “What did Missus Vargas say when I asked about their dog tags?”

Rudy frowned. “She shoved them down their throats before beating them to death.”

“Jesus fuck,” he said, glancing into the door to see her staring straight ahead. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

As they piled into the jeeps, Alejandro leaned into his wife, murmuring, "Mi alma, how did you know they were enemies?"

She breathed deeply and laid her head on his shoulder. "No me dijeron nuestra palabra clave. Sabía que no los enviaste para protegerme." Looking at him, she added, "Defendí nuestra casa, pero por favor, no me obliguen a hacerlo de nuevo."

Alejandro nodded. "Nunca más. Siempre estaré allí de ahora en adelante para asumir esa carga por ti."

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

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Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[sugoi-and-spice]

Like my work? Please consider commissioning me or contributing to my Ko-Fi!

Chapter Twenty-Five - Leap Without Looking

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Virginity Kink, Groping, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Slow Burn, Misogyny

Notes: Happy 2024 friends! We have officially crossed the 600 page threshold with this fic and my husband has informed me that in that amount of words, I could've finished three novels by now... I think I've spent my time wisely on this xD

Anyway, thanks as always for following the progress of my long-ass, over-emotional dub-con fic!

Read Full Chapter on AO3

[excerpt]

What was she doing? No seriously, what the hell was she doing?

That’s all she could think as she paced anxiously in her living room. She hadn’t even planned on calling Shigaraki, her fingers had just moved before her brain could. She’d been so worried about leaving him hanging the way she had at the arcade, that he was going to do something drastic, she knew she needed to get back to him as soon as possible. That action, she didn’t kick herself too much for.

But then he had texted her.

Shigaraki

[on the train]

[b @ ur place in 20]

She should’ve corrected him. Told him to meet her at a restaurant or a train station or a diner. Wait, yeah! A diner! That’s what she’d told him earlier, they’d go to a diner! A public, safe place that would pose a much lower risk of clothes being lost (although, not a zero chance, she admitted bitterly as she remembered one of their last serious talks over dinner). 

But no, she’d been too preoccupied trying to work out what to say, that when she’d finally gotten her head put on straight, about fifteen minutes later, she’d found a new reason to lose it. Tomura Shigaraki was going to be in her house, in the middle of the night, when her parents weren’t home. 

Nevermind the rather important question regarding how exactly he knew her address already, just what expectation was she setting with that?! Especially right after telling him that she and Mirio broke up. There’s no way Tomura Shigaraki of all people was coming over with anything other than sex on the brain. 

All of the fully rehearsed words she’d had suddenly didn’t feel sufficient anymore. This was way more serious than she was ready for. It was all happening way too fast. She didn’t even know what she wanted. She hadn’t even had the courage to fully admit to herself that she had very serious feelings for him, didn’t even know if she wanted to date him, so just what the hell was she supposed to say now in her house?!

Her heart just about beat out of her chest when the doorbell rang. That terrible cheerful little jingle that signaled the demise of her self-control. What was going to happen when she opened that door? How could she stop whatever he tried to make happen?

Especially when it was something she deep down really wanted to happen.

Luckily, she didn’t have to think of a solution. Because when she opened the door, she did not find Tomura Shigaraki holding flowers or video games or ready to sweep her off her feet (and into her bed). She saw him instead, hunched over panting, soaked to the bone, and not wearing shoes.

“O-Oh my god!” she practically shrieked.

“I didn’t bring anything,” was all he managed to say through heaving breaths. 

As if she would’ve expected him to bring a home gift under normal circumstances, let alone when he was hunched over and dripping onto her welcome mat.

She huffed in confused exasperation and pulled him into the house by the front of his sopping wet shirt, “Get in here right now!”

“W-Wow. It’s warm…” he muttered, looking around the living room in a daze as she closed the front door behind him.

“Yeah, I’m sure!” she snapped, “What happened to you?!”

“You said you wanted to talk in person.”

“So what, you ran all the way from Roppongi?!” she demanded.

He looked away, a blush dusting his cheeks, “I took the train too…”

She shook her head in disbelief, “You’re not even wearing shoes…”

Before he could say anything more, embarrassing himself further, she pressed a hot hand to his neck with a quickness that had him shuttering out a sigh. But she didn’t notice what she was doing to him. 

(She never truly did, did she?)

“Oh my God, you’re freezing!” she grabbed his shirt suddenly again, this time pulling it straight up over his head, “Take these off— take them off now!”

It all happened too fast for either of them to really process or be embarrassed about. She peeled his clothes off piece by piece, all while shoving him frantically down the ever-warmening hallway of her home. At some point he blinked and found himself stripped down completely and standing alone in the middle of her bathroom, fluffy beige towel in hand.

Shigaraki blinked as he finally had a coherent thought for what seemed like the first time in the last five hours. That thought being that when he’d pictured himself naked in her house, this is not the way he’d thought it’d go. 

He looked around the room, still in a bit of a daze. It was a typical Japanese bathroom, a nice one, he supposed, with its auto-filling tub and real tile, notably not laminate. But it was cozy (the nice way of saying small) and the only one for the whole household. The whole house seemed to be that way, from the quick glimpse he saw of it all. Simple, modest, warm. Quite a difference from his own luxurious and picture-perfect, but admittedly cold household. 

It surprised him a bit, the modest part. Though maybe it shouldn’t have. The more he learned about her and her family, the clearer it was that maybe she wasn’t as overtly privileged as he’d once assumed, as he was used to. Sure her family was comfortable, but there was a much wider gap between them, the family that packed onigiri and Don Quixote-purchased lawn chairs for swim meets, and he who had a Kurogiri at his every beck and call.

By the time he got to running his fingers along her slew of floral body washes and shampoos, he couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh over the situation. The ridiculousness of it all. How panicked he’d been, how undoubtedly panicked she’d been waiting for him. How all of it seemed to go instantly out the window the moment she saw him and had something all new to worry over. No, not just something. Someone. Him. Him and his well-being. 

Well wasn’t that something new.

Continue on AO3

[fostercare-expat]

Why does CPS insist on torturing me? Social worker just texted me “if we happen to reintegrate Younger Brother first, would you then be open to caring for Older Brother?” Zero information about what sort of timeline they are talking about. Now or a year from now?????? When I called her immediately upon receiving the text, she didn’t pick up and she texted that she is in training and will call me later. How could she possibly expect me to answer that over text when I already poured my heart to her last week that I’m nearing burn out, and also how we shared that we think there is a large possibility that Mom will just never be able to parent Older Brother.

When she calls back, she tells me that the plans might be changing and instead of the plan ahead shared last week that Younger Brother would return home in roughly a year from now, the new plan is that he might return THIS FRIDAY. And if Younger Brother returns this Friday, would I be willing to keep Older Brother?

I asked her what has changed in that it is now safe enough for Younger Brother to return home since last week. She said they talked to Mom and her boyfriend and they suggested that Younger Brother could return home and that they felt he is easier to handle than Older Brother. While I agree he is easier, I don’t think it makes sense that we are judging safety based on what Mon and boyfriend say they can handle. Shouldn’t we look at their behaviour? Within the last 3 days, she was at an event with both her boys, didn’t speak to them. There was a phone call between her girls at her house and the boys at my house and she didn’t speak them in spite of them both asking, only waved in the background. She hasn’t had a visit with them in 22 days and has no plans to see them set. I asked her this morning if she wanted to make Younger Brother’s eye doctor appointment and bring him and she said better if I do it. Mom hasn’t been allowed ANY unsupervised visits or telephone calls in 4 months, but we are going to jump straight to returning the kid home? I was told last week she would have to complete counselling services and her and her boyfriend would need to complete domestic violence / parenting counselling and then after both of those counsellors gave the ok and the social worker felt ok, only then would either of the brothers be returned home. But now we’ve jumped straight to “boyfriend says he won’t abuse Younger Brother and the hitting he experienced last time wasn’t so bad, so my team and I are now thinking to return him home on Friday.” Those are the exact words out of the social worker on the phone today when I asked her what has changed since last week.

I expect that there will be chaos coming from the biological family side of fostering. But I was not expecting the level of chaos coming from the CPS side of fostering. I miss the competent fostering Safe Families model where the social workers actually knew how to do their jobs. I get that situation has way less complexities. But the level of mistrust that the government CPS has established with me is high, I can’t imagine what level of mistrust the biological families feel.

I told CPS no, I can’t keep Older Brother even if Younger Brother goes home on Friday. Because A) this is the 3rd time in 3 years that these kids have ended up in care, so I’m doubtful that this reunion is going to last, particularly as boyfriend is still living with them. B) If Younger Brother returns home, then Mom is going to need even more support. I could offer to take all 4 kids two weekends a month or something like that to help her out, and that might help keep the reunion a bit more stable. But I can’t do that if I have Older Brother because he is exhausting. C) Older Brother is a challenging child and I don’t think he’s going to go home even in 1 year and I don’t intend to be a permanent solution for any kids. Maybe it ends up that way for Younger Brother but not because I willingly choose it. D) My Older Daughter finds him very difficult to be around and it doesn’t feel fair to say yes to him indefinitely. E) I want to have a bit of peace and stability in my life. I want to just be able to be responsible for 2 kids and have a little free time. F) I’d really like to NOT have to deal with stupid CPS social workers any more. If I could support Mom without getting too involved in her personal life (like was the situation before March of this year) that would be nice. Mom is frustrating but at least that makes sense. CPS is frustrating and it shouldn’t be that way, which is double frustrating.

I’ll keep Younger Brother if he’s not returning this Friday. But I can’t commit to Older Brother. Example: Older Brother came home from school wearing a new pair of shoes today. He said his friend mentioned he was getting some new shoes, so Older Brother asked if he can have the ones on his feet, which are apparently only 2 weeks old and look brand new. Apparently the friend “gifted” him the shoes. Older Brother is upset that I am making him return the shoes, even though I have shown him a picture of the brand new school his other foster mom already bought him, and I explained I believe him but I just don’t want him to accidentally get in trouble at school, I know he hasn’t done anything bad, etc. But he’s frustrated at me and keeps bringing it up and getting upset all over again. He genuinely thinks he deserves the shoes. It’s been exhausting. I just can’t. I’m sorry world, but I can’t do it for the next year or maybe forever.

[swimmingelectron]

More chlonette/queen bug cz exams are coming and i do not want them to

Part 1

Lb now deals with two of her regular partners flirting with her

Hello, m'lady~

Hey, bug, need me?

Chloe legit did her homework the next day and complained to mari over call ab how hard it was

She realised she couldn't stop being mean to everyone simply out of habit, so she just straight up started being mean about things they shouldn't do.

Sabrina! You need to tell me if you can't do something.

Ugh, Kim, if you don't stop being so loud in class-

You're such a worrywart, marinette, maybe learn to live a little.

Sure, a lot of mistakes were made, but it was that much better being around chloe.

In just a few months, chloe proved adept at staying out of sight of akumatised victims and capable of shattering akumas on her own. Moreover, she was a great fighter, a good hero.

With time, the number of akumas targetting her went down to zero and she was almost a new person.

Then, one day, lb needed her for something different. She needed bee to find out chat's identity and pass him messages in his civillian form.

When chloe found out it was "ADRIKINS!?" she realised she couldn't possibly continue hating chat. But she also couldn't give lb up to him for grabs.

That's exactly what she told him.

Adrien, Chat. You've been my best friend since childhood. I've seen what you go through, with your fa-umm... what you've gone through since your mother's death.

If you ever need to talk about anything, you are always welcome. About anything at all.

Thanks, but i kinda already stop by mari's terrace to talk about my problems as chat. Of course, i haven't revealed my identity to her so maybe there are some things i can come to you about.

Righhhht. Hm- so another thing is, chat, i really like ladybug too. And i won't give her up to you without a fight. And I'll never lose to you!

XDXD Looking forward to it, your highness :)

Then on, queen bee would drop by at the bakery, through the front door, flowers for her buginette.

(I'd like to imagine chat also upped his game when he found out chloe was getting close to mari and brought his princess little trinkets.) (He wasn't aware she was also lb at all.)

With time, mari became fond of the bee buzzing around her everywhere.

Before either of them realised they were calling each other sweet treats and honey tart, bug and bee

Mari couldn't have pointed out when she fell, but at some point, she accidentally told queen bee she loved her as she left for home from the bakery.

Chloe carried that blinding smile all the way through the weekend and into school on monday. Sure, mari was an anxious wreck that whole week. Because what else would you expect out of her? But chloe? Chloe had learnt a new skill in the past year. The ability to stay hidden and melt into bright light. She became the white noise in marinette's life until mari couldn't help but feel comforted by her presence.

They started dating in secret in a few months. As lb and qb, they told chat. He was, well, depressed to say the least. He'd tell mari all about it, and mari couldn't help but feel guilty.

Chloe and mari had comforted him in the bakery more than once in the middle of their dates. Chloe could forgive him. She'd also be broken if mari chose him over her.

Chat never did get over lb, but he got better at putting his mask back on.

Meanwhile, the viewers get to realise something about marinette that is not too obvious in the show. Marinette is not a mary sue. She is stubborn, she needs things to go her way, and she doesn't think any of her partners are capable without instruction. Yes, she is a good leader, but she is a very, very bad standby observer.

Chloe and mari both value their freedom, they both don't like making too many compromises and they both prefer if things move according to their plan. So while chloe is quick to anger, marinette frets. They get into fights. Chloe uses insults as her weapon. Marinette launches into tirades or sasses her back.

The fights aren't frequent. Because both the girls do compromise to quite an extent; out of guilt, love, and empathy. But there are these other more frequent little squabbles between the two about little things.

One wanted a particular flower. The other can't afford a certain cafe. Marinette's morals, chloe's standards. Usually, marinette would bring chloe baked goods and chloe would give in.

All good, right? Well, everything keeps happening according to mari's wishes. Marinette rarely compromises on these. Rose accidentally points it out during a project one day.

It sort of breaks chloe when she realises. When she asks marinette, the girl points out she thinks it's because chloe realises she's wrong.

Chloe barely manages to keep her tears in check as she breaks up with marinette. Does mari still think she is better than chloe? Maybe. She goes straight home and locks herself in. After crying 2 days straight, she finds chat at her window. She can't tell him anything really. But the support is good enough.

When he realises she isn't in a position to answer his questions, he simply gets her into the bath, playfully swatting the water at her with his tail. He gets her a towel after about 30 mins, washes off all her running makeup, and wraps her up in it. Chloe sits, dripping water on her bed while chat rummages for a change of clothes.

He gets her one of her childhood favourites and begs her to change out of wet clothes. It takes chloe another half an hour to make it even with pollen's help. Chat dries her hair off and brushes it into a fancy updo. He recharges and takes chloe to a food joint, and gets take out that they have on the eiffel tower.

(Chloe doesn't speak but chat doesn't actually need her to. Afterall, lb has been out of it too. But he knows something now. Because he comforted marinette through a breakdown, he knows who his lady is, now. He doesn't tell the girls. They don't realise it through their pain either.)

When the girls start talking to each other again, months later, the pain and hurt remains. But they've both grown into better people. Sometimes, they still call each other bee and bug. Old habits do die hard.

[smileyfacesim]

Aspiration Legacy Challenge - Gen 1.1

Challenge rules

In this legacy we're following the Reynolds' family, starting with Caitlin. She has the high maintenance, active and cheerful traits and her main generational goal is to complete the Inner Peace aspiration.

Caitlin had ecently moved to Mt. Komorebi to find some inner peace. The decision to move away from the big city wasn't easy: leaving her family and friends behind, but she had to. The stress of work and her unlucky love life just became too much so she booked a one way ticket, hopped on a plane and started her new life on an empty plot of land with zero simoleons and the excitement to start her new journey.

To start the day off, Caitlin visited the Keyomatsu Spa where mindfulness is key and clothing just an option. She started practicing some yoga and meditation. Once she felt confident enough around the all the clothingless people, she took off her own.

Her next stop was the sauna where she met the mysterious Alon Sadya. He was the first person she had met since she moved here so she friendily introduced herself and they got to know each other. Alon was a neat sim who loved the outdoors. Sadly, he had to go after their conversation in the sauna so Cait showered and headed somewhere else. Sure, she could go back home but that was just an empty plot of land.

Howeve, if she went to the park she might find some thing to sell. "Ugh, I need to find a job or something to afford a house...or at least some money for a bed." Caitlin sighed. Once at the park, it started raining. "Of course it's raining, just my luck." She said, looking around. Fortunately, the local bar was open so Caitlin ran over, hoping to get some food into her growling stomach and get some sleep.

"What can I get ya?" Kent, the bartender, asked. "Actually... I can't afford anything here but...do you, maybe, have some scraps? Anything will do...please, I had the worst afternoon and I'm starving..." Caitlin explained. Kent looked at her and nodded. "I can get you some chips and water...just don't tell anyone you got it for free... You can freshen up in the bathroom." He told her, pointing towards the stairs.

"O, thank you so much! just one more question, do you know a place I can stay the night?" "For tonight, you can sleep on the couch upstairs but I can't help you tomorrow. I suggest finding a few odd jobs or find a hobby to get some money together." Cait nodded, thanking Kent once more before freshning up upstairs. Before calling it a night, she talked to some people that were hanging out at the bar. Later she went back up the stairs and laid down on the couch.

With a painful back and confused by a weird dream, Caitlin woke up late in the morning. "Morning." Kent greeted her while washing some glasses. "So what's the plan for today?" "I have no idea." She answered with a yawn. "I think you need to clear your head. Luckily, Mt. Komorebi is known for its beautiful place to hike. Legends say hiking can bring you luck." "I could use some of that." Caitlin sighed.

And so, she walked a sceneric hike. She took some pictures, looked around and breathed the crisp outside air. "Come on luck, I'm ready..." She whispered. That moment, her phone rang. "Hello?" "Hello, ms. Reynolds. We forgot to give you the money we owed you. It's sent now." "What? Who is th-" The caller had hung up the phone before she could even finish her sentence and suddenly she had 2500 simoleons under her name. "Wow, Kent wasn't kidding about that luck...Time to get some furniture."

The "plot of land" now had a bed, a tiny kitchen/bathroom combo and some space for her own yoga mat. Exhaused, Caitlin went straight to bed. The next more she would go to the spa to get rid of the tension she was feeling.

She used what was left of the money to get a massage from Kyle Kyleson, relaxed in the sauna and went to meditate. "Hey, you!" Caitlin opened her eyes to see Kyle looking at her. "Heard you need some money, dude. I know a way." He said, looking around in silence. "Um...yes...It's not anything illegal right?" "What? No dude. Listen, all the rich people come here and they love spending their money on meditation and stuff. If you hosted some sessions, you could really earn some cash." He explained. Caitlin smiled. "That would be awesome! Thank you!" "Just host a session whenever you've got time. Good luck, dude! O and don't forget to buy a lottery ticket, the pay is huge!". Kyle yelled as he walked off.

So Caitli hosted her first session right away for a naked Mortimer Goth and Bjorn Bjergsen who was very smelly. It went a little wonky but she got 160 simoleons out of it. She used it to buy a lottery ticket. Who knows, she might get lucky.

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

Generation goals:

Complete the aspiration

Have the 'high maintenance' trait

Max the wellness skill

Get rid of 3 fears

Max the fitness skill

[theworldoffostering]

Sunday:

My life feels like a roller coaster.

Three of our kids were in a Christmas pageant at church this morning. I volunteered to help during rehearsals the past two weekends. The performance today was adorable and perfect as far as kid performances go. The kids were super cute, did a great job, and the whole thing lasted about 15 minutes.

We started attending church again in-person around Easter and are at a Lutheran church which is new for me. It is the most accepting church I have ever been in. The pastors are a husband/wife team and the church tends to be community engaged/involved which I love.

Then DD called and tried to ask how she could get her things “in the future” if she “wanted to move out.” She was nearly involuntarily committed last week because she’s so unstable so she thinks now would be a great time to “trade families” and move in with her friend who happens to live at home. What DD really means is she wants a living situation where she has zero accountability for her mental health or anything else. She’s dating her friend while also dating another person that her friend doesn’t know about and the dude she’s dating doesn’t know about the friend she’s sort of, kind of moved in with. She keeps all of her relationships hidden from every person in her life so she doesn’t have to be accountable to anyone for them. I told her I’d be willing to engage in that conversation with her when she was stable. Then she called back a few hours later and just straight out said she was going to move in with her friend. When I pointed out she was nearly involuntarily committed last week and maybe wasn’t super stable to be making huge changes right now, she hung up on me. Great.

Y’all, the stress is so, so much. I have been able to handle major amounts of stress for the bulk of my adult life. Thanks foster care and single parenting. However, these past six months feel like they are maxing my body beyond what it can take. Idk if it’s due to the cancer treatment, my age, or the sheer volume of stuff I’ve had to manage.

I don’t know how to mitigate the stress DD’s situation brings to our home and particularly me. She’s closest to me in our family.

Monday:

DD called and tried to assert that she didn’t hang up on me when she called last night. She’s said, “You told me you were eating dinner.” I said that people usually say goodbye when they are getting off a call instead of simply hanging up. Then she tried to tell me that DH and I prevented her from getting her medication and her things from home last week when she took off. I reminded her that she literally refused to come home with DH when he saw her at Walmart and then blocked us from calling or texting. I also reminded her that she took off without warning while DH was waiting to pick her up from work. Either that’s the mental illness talking or she’s very set on creating a narrative of her behavior that allows her to live with the choices she’s making. Either way, it’s challenging.

I told DD this afternoon that she was always welcome at home, but we could not continue to live with her unless she was willing to do the work to get well. It’s too much for everyone to live with the constant unknown of where she is and what she’s doing. She is making plans to return to her friend’s home where apparently the parent there will make her pay rent.

I am so very sad and hurt.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

American fashion designer mom who lived in China for 16 years says she MISSES how Communist government 'co-parented' her children - dictating even what they should eat - and wants U.S. to learn from its example

An American fashion designer who spent 16 years in Shanghai has published an essay in the New York Times highlighting the virtues of raising her children under the watchful and authoritarian eye of the Chinese government.

Heather Kaye, 49, arrived in Shanghai in 2006 with her husband George and planned to stay for a year. But the couple stayed and ended up raising their two daughters there. However, in 2022 the family was driven to return to the US after living for two years under the country's draconian COVID-19 policies.

She has now described her return to Washington DC as a 'culture shock' that makes her miss the way her children were 'co-parented by the Chinese government'. 

Yet her own remarks will come as a shock to many who are concerned about the looming threat the Chinese government poses both domestically and to global economics, technology and businesses.

In October last year it emerged that the Communist Party operates secret police stations in New York City to hunt down dissidents force them back to China, while those protesting the country's zero-COVID policy have been known to disappear without explanation. Kaye acknowledged the ways in which the Chinese Communist Party would insert itself into family life, be it by controlling what her kids ate or by dictating the number of hours they should sleep at night.

'In China, government co-parenting begins in the womb,' she wrote, referring to the limits on how many children parents were allowed, which have since been relaxed.

She added that not long after enrolling her kids in state-run schools it started controlling how her kids should live.

'Chinese kindergarten lectured us on everything, including how many hours our daughters should sleep, what they should eat and their optimal weight,' she said.

But she claimed she was grateful for the discipline instilled in her two daughters, born in 2008 and 2010, at school.

She recounted: 'Each morning all of the students performed calisthenics in straight rows and raised China's red flag while singing the national anthem.'

And she commended the Chinese system for independently 'instilling a solid work ethic and a total drive for academic excellence', teaching them that hard work leads to results. 

Kaye claimed she was also grateful for the way surrendering parts of their children's lives to the state reduced burdens on her and her husband - and wished American parents might see the value in doing the same.

'I learned to appreciate the strong sense of shared values and of people connected as a nation. Parenting, like governing, is an imperfect art,' she added.Kaye saw merit in Chinese censorship too. 'Raising kids in China was a plus in other ways — such as the heavy censorship,' she wrote. 

The government imposed limits on how much time her kids could spend playing video games and it saved them from accessing problematic material on the internet.

Not only that, the state's supervision would keep here daughters safe as they navigated the sprawling, but relatively safe, according to Kaye, Shanghai subway.

In spite of all of this Kaye was driven to leave China, having lived through its zero-COVID approach that confined them for two months to home and limited them to government food rations.

But even as the family left she maintained her admiration for the country and the life they had been able to make there.

In a story covering her family's departure from Shanghai in 2022, she told Reuters: 'Anything you can imagine, you can build it here. Anything you want to be, you can make it happen here.'  

A recent report by human rights watchdog Safeguard Defenders revealed that the Chinese Communist Party has at least 54 'overseas police service stations' in 30 different countries, including across the US.

Since the launch of that program in April 2021, China reported that it had 'persuaded' 230,000 Chinese nationals to return home.

The Safeguard Defenders' campaign manager Laura Harth alleged that China has been using it to track down dissidents and force them to return home.

[from-dre]

One One-Thousand

I’d been among the few stuffed animals that Mrs. Carmine had placed inside the crib when she first brought little Cynthia home. The others lining the rest of the room hadn’t been as lucky and so the toddler rarely played with them in the years to follow.

Her bright blond curls stood out in family portraits when set against the straight dark hair of her adoptive parents. They adored the child. She was showered with attention. Always given new toys. It didn’t matter, I remained her favorite. So on the day the screams started, little Cynthia came running for me first.

The Carmines had a television in their living room, but if I wasn’t placed or dropped on the floor in its line of view, I’d be stuck having to piece things together just by listening. What I heard was horrifying. Mass violence overseas. Some type of invasion. Enormous power outages leaving entire countries in the dark. I’d hear Mr. Carmine talking about a potential war and how they’d have to start coming up with an escape plan would it ever reach Stateside. I’d hear Mrs. Carmine sit up crying for nights in a row. Cynthia held me tighter than ever before. After she’d fall asleep, I’d stare at the other stuffed animals in the room with me, all of us with the same blank expressions we’d always worn. I always wondered if they too, could think like me. If they were stuck inside their own bodies like I was, unable to move or speak, just observe and process. I assumed they could. But of course, I’d never know, just like they’d never know if they ever wondered the same thing about me.

“Sam!” I heard Mrs. Carmine crying out to her husband from another room. “Get in here now!” She sounded petrified and began sobbing loudly. Cynthia stopped her coloring, scooped me up by one of my floppy ears, and ran out of her room towards her mother. From the poor girl’s arms, I watched the television but struggled to make sense of what I was seeing. A helicopter was transmitting a live feed from high above. It showed a gigantic gaping hole in the middle of a desert. I couldn’t make out how large it was until I realized the small specks surrounding its outer edge that I mistook for ants turned out to be people. Millions of them. The camera zoomed in as far as it could onto a cluster of them. I could almost make out their faces when Mrs. Carmine shrieked again, covering her mouth. “They’re digging!” She yelled to herself. Cynthia and I were made to go back into her room, though I couldn’t help but think about what I’d just seen. Who were those people? Something about the way they were standing wasn’t normal.

In the coming weeks I tried piecing together what little information I could. Mass suicides were happening globally. People were voluntarily walking into the oceans without trying to swim. All heading towards the hole that had gotten so big it now seemed to cover half of Egypt. Mrs. Carmine began sleeping next to Cynthia at night. She’d taught her daughter to count from ten one-thousand all the way down until she’d hit zero. She told her how that was the magic number that could instantly slow her racing heartbeat if she ever got scared. But how she could only use its magic once in her life. How the fewer numbers she’d need to count, the braver she was. Cynthia never needed to get past six one-thousand.

One afternoon I heard shouting. But it sounded different than ever before. I quickly realized it wasn’t coming from anywhere inside the house. Just then, I heard the front door open and slam shut.

“Carol – get Cynthia now! It’s here! It’s come here!” I heard Mr. Carmine running through the house, gathering things.

“What?!” Mrs. Carmine’s voice from their bedroom.

“Now Carol! Go!”

“Tell me what’s happening!”

“No time, I’ll explain in the car! Get Cynthia!”

The sound of the bedroom door bursting open woke the sleeping girl. Her mother grabbed her hand.

“Come on baby, we’re leaving.” I watched the two hurry out of the room, down the hall, and around the corner out of sight.

“Wait!” I finally heard. The sound of little footsteps ran back towards me and a minute later, I was in the girl’s arms as the three of them headed for the front door, bags of food in hand.

“Straight to the car.” Mr. Carmine said. Then, sunlight. Since first arriving to the Carmines’, I’d been taken outdoors twice. Once for a trip to the park and once to play with Cynthia in the backyard. For the past year and a half however, we lived with the world turning into utter chaos. Now, I finally saw for myself the reality of it all.

The first thing I noticed were the screams coming from half the houses on the block. A few cars had broken windows. Then, a man running, another chasing him while flailing his limbs violently, saying something over and over in a gurgled voice. Mr. Carmine jumped in the car. Mrs. Carmine opened the backseat for me and the girl, then slammed it shut and hurried into the passenger seat. I tried to see where the two men ran to but couldn’t find them. When the car backed away from the driveway they reentered my line of sight.

“Mommy!” Cynthia howled. The gurgling man had caught up to his victim, pinned him to the ground, and was now forcing himself atop his head to get to his ear. He began chanting the same phrase over and over again. A language I’d never heard. In a matter of seconds the man trying to fight himself free stopped moving. He stiffened out. Then, his limbs cracked into a position they weren’t made to take. He began to utter something. His voice had changed into the same demonic growl as his attacker’s. He jumped up and the two began running again. But this time, together, and in complete syncopation.

“Drive, Sam!” Cynthia’s mother yelled.

“What’s happening?” Mr. Carmine muttered to himself.

As the car pulled away from the house, I looked out passed the back window. Trees whirled by. Homes on fire, cars overturned, we were nearing downtown. More packs of those gurgling people, all chanting the same thing, all with cracking limbs running in a form no human body has ever taken before. No blood stains, no wounds, just the same expression on their faces as I had seen on those people surrounding the huge hole in the Earth. It looked, evil. Muscles I’d never seen a face use held their features in place. Unsymmetrical eyes. Lips that snarled. Crooked noses.

“They’re saying whatever it is reached Manhattan last night. By this morning it was here in Florida and an hour ago just outside Sarasota.” Mr. Carmine relayed the news to his shocked wife, too paralyzed to cry. “They turn into these things by some signal the brain picks up when it’s close enough to hear it. Then they go after others, turning more until they have enough and start heading East.”

“Why East?” Mrs. Carmine asked.

“They’re headed in that hole’s direction. Whatever’s buried there, they’re digging for it constantly, day and night, even after some have their arms fall off, they continue to dig. It’s…, this is it. This is how the world ends.” The car continued to race through the city streets.

“Don’t talk like that, I’m sure they’ve started dropping bombs on that pit by now.”

“It doesn’t work! New ones find their way to it! They just-“

Mr. Carmine had been in the middle of catching his breath when an SUV barreled into the driver’s side. We slid to a complete stop with broken glass covering the inside of the car. I couldn’t see the aftermath but by Mrs. Carmine’s hysteria, I assumed the worst.

“No! No, no, Sam, my God!” Cynthia had never been quick to cry. But now I started feeling her chest rise and lower quicker and quicker. “Baby get out of the car!” Mrs. Carmine flew out and grabbed her daughter out and into the street. Cynthia held me tighter. I could see the driver from the SUV’s body had smashed through its windshield. “Oh my God, oh my God. Where? Where?” The girl’s mother was frantically looking for a place to run towards. Screams came from all around us. The storefronts were all broken into. Gunfire from both near and far. “There!” She grabbed her daughter’s hand and the two of them ran inside a neighborhood deli. The chairs that were once stacked up against the door had been pushed to the side. Mrs. Carmine looked around in a panic. Then a voice.

“Over here! Hurry!” From behind the counter, a man stood waving his arm. We ran towards him as he pointed to the walk-in freezer. “My wife and son are in there, come on!”

The two pounded on its outside and a few seconds later the thick door swung open. From back out in the dining area, a loud crash rung out by windows being broken, then the faint sounds of deep gurgled chanting filled the room.

“They’re in! Hurry, get to the back of the freezer!” The man yelled. His wife, young son, Mrs. Carmine and Cynthia huddled together in the dim corner as the man pulled the freezer door shut and stacked as many crates as he could find in front of it. He kept the light on and I watched him kneel down in prayer. Cynthia squeezed me tight and I noticed the young boy with us looking at her in worry, he too held a stuffed bunny in his arms. I made eye contact with it and it with me. I didn’t know what the young boy had named his furry friend or if they’d made as many memories as little Cynthia and I had over the years. I didn’t know how close the two had become or if the young boy had ever been able to read the bunny’s blank face as well as Cynthia had been able to read mine. I didn’t even know if the bunny could feel emotion or think thoughts like I could, but still, we stared at each other in silence. Outside, gurgled chanting neared closer to the freezer.

“Ten one-thousand…,” whispered a shaking Cynthia. “Nine one-thousand…eight one- thousand.” Pounding on the door began. The man prayed faster, louder, with more aggression. The chanting, though in unison, sounded like it came from a dozen or more voices. “Five one-thousand…four one-thousand.” The man began crying, the chanting grew louder, the pounding turned into violent scratching. Panels began getting pulled off in all directions. The bunny held its blank expression, still looking at me, and by the time Cynthia reached one one-thousand and hadn’t yet stopped, I wondered if it knew how scared it should truly be.

[ohworm-writes]

▬ CINNAMON SWEET ▬

Pairing: Modern!Technoblade x Gn!Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of tears, mentions of anger, minor anxiety, allusions to sex and tenseness (?) overall in the first half of the work

Synopsis: In which Techno forgets about a date he had planned for the two of you. When he comes to pick you up out of the pouring rain, the air between you two is left tense- almost in a suffocating manner. He knows he can’t trust his words to help him out of this hole that he’s dug himself, but perhaps his actions can do something to heal these wounds. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: This work is dedicated to @dreamwvrld​ as an entry to her 1 year event! I know I’ve told her this before, but I’m so f*cking honored to be a mutual of hers and everything that she does inspires me so much and just- gods. If you don’t already, please please please go give her works a read and give her a follow, as she absolutely deserves it an so much more. 

There’s a certain type of beauty that comes with silence. For many, it’s found in time spent alone, that solitude acting as a breath of fresh air in a way. For others, they may find it in a comforting silence shared between two or more people. The usage of words isn’t exactly necessary in being able to fully enjoy the company of others, and that’s precisely what’s so wonderful about it.

Though, in this case, silence is suffocating.

—-

Technoblade sits with his back set straight against the driver’s seat of his car, sweat acting as an adhesive to keep him stuck in place as his fingers curl around the steering wheel in a grip that leaves his knuckles a lighter shade. Normally, for him, silence while driving is something that he enjoys, being able to block the worries of the day out as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of him.

Today, however, this silence leaves the air thick and tense, almost like smog.

You have your body pressed up against the opposite side of the car, arms curled around your legs in a, what you would call, fetal-like position. It’s slightly uncomfortable and entirely awkward, but it’s the only solace you can find in a situation such as this.

The road ahead stretches on for miles and miles, streets left near-empty with only a handful of people to be seen out this late.

Now that you think of it, you should be one of those people out on the sidewalk right now. You should be curled into Techno’s side as you walk down the avenues, genuine smiles etched on to your faces as you enjoy one another’s company.

But again, given the current situation, that seems like nothing more than a pipe dream.

Techno drums his fingers against the steering wheel as a poor attempt to fill the silence. It’s hypnotic when you take the time to zero-in on it. It’s like- the hooves of horses galloping onto a track, going faster and faster and faster until one crosses the finish line.

That doesn’t happen.

His eyes cast toward you every few seconds. He’s aware he’s doing it. You’re aware he’s doing it. But, somehow, he doesn’t know that you know. Funny, no?

He’s… exhausted. He’s spent the past 14 hours- 6am to 8pm- hunched over a desk, work piling higher and higher above the limits of his patience while higher-ups breathe hot air down his neck, lecturing and nit-picking him at every chance they get.

“Remember T, I need this on my desk by Thursday morning.” “C’mon, is this really all you have to show?” “Chop chop, porkchop! I need these papers sent to our asap!”

He just wants to go home and sleep with you, his partner, the two of you huddled beneath the blankets and feeding off one another’s warmth. If given the opportunity, he’d sleep with you like that for a week and then some.

But the guilt of leaving you out in the rain for hours on end after he’d promised you dinner that night hangs over his head heavily, the whispers in his head laughing at him and scolding him and telling him “they’re going to leave you because of this. And you deserve it.”

He hates it, but he knows that there’s nothing he can do to change what he’s done and he hates it. He just wants to say something, maybe for you to say something if not him to fill this awkward and tense silence that’s been simmering since you stepped into the car a little under 10 minutes ago.

Well, it’s not even the fact that you haven’t looked at him. Saying that implies that it just hasn’t happened yet, that you haven’t turned your head to take a good look at him yet. No- since you slammed the door behind you and huddled into your current position, you’ve refused to cast your eyes anywhere near him. You’ve actively decided to not look at him.

And truthfully, it breaks both of your hearts, not just his.

He can’t see it as your face is directed away from him, but tears prick at your eyes, leaving them a dull reddish-white shade as they accumulate. He had promised to dedicate tonight to you. Promised that nothing else would get in the way and stop this night from happening, and yet that is exactly what had happened.

He’d been so… distant lately. With the way his hours were lined up, he barely even got to see you awake anymore. You’d be lucky if you got to see him for half a second on his way out or when he’d periodically press a kiss to your forehead before knocking out beside you in bed. He barely had any time with you anymore and you’d begun to hate it.

You’ve never had a problem with it before.

Truthfully, you hadn’t. It was something Techno had always loved about you, even before going into his current profession. You’ve always been patient with him, understanding when things came up out of the blue and he’d have to cancel, but he’d always reschedule for sometime soon and make it up to you.

You still had that mentality, of course, but now it was being tested.

He had cleared everything off of his board for tonight, doing everything in his power to set aside the night for you both. And even then, it wasn’t enough.

Technoblade was not a man that broke promises. He dealt with them seriously, and there was not one moment in your relationships where he‘d broken a promise. Well, until now. And that’s what hurt you so much about this whole situation- that, even after having made it a point all throughout your relationship that promises were final, he still fell short.

It broke you.

Techno isn’t a stupid man. Yes, he may make stupid decisions, but that doesn’t inherently make him stupid. He knows he let you down and he knows how angry you are about this whole thing and he knows that you’re making it a point not to show that anger because he knows and you know that doing that would only make everything worse.

It’s this frustratingly repetitive cycle that he finds himself in that he hates so much. He doesn’t know what to do to fix everything because he feels as though he’s walking on thin ice, the wrong step leading him to plunge into the icy currents below.

F*ck, he hates this so much.

The car slows, the dull click click click of the blinker resonating in the silent car as the vehicle turns into a parking lot. It’s only then that you decide to actually look away from the passenger’s side window for the first time since getting in the car.

It’s a plaza. There are several markets and shops dispersed around the area, dull red and blue ‘OPEN’ signs flashing on and off in store windows. You can count on your hands the number of cars in the lot- all space far away from each other to subtly let you know that nobody is shopping at the same stores.

It’s when Techno pulls into a parking space in front of a small bakery that you actually speak up. Your voice is hoarse, tone soft and low as you speak to him for what you realize to be the first time that day.

“Techno? Why are we stopping here? I thought we were going straight home?”

You hate how pathetic you sound, voice small as you speak to the man. He responds quickly after a few beats of silence.

“I need to pick something up real quick. I’ll only be a few. I promise.”

Oh, the irony.

In a fluid motion, Techno takes the keys out of the ignition, the car drumming down into silence as the engine slows to a stop. The heater, of which had been on the entire ride, stops as well, all the heat from the car settling into the stale air you had become familiar with.

He- Techno, is quiet. Eerily so, though not in a way where it seems like he’s about to chew you out, but the exact opposite. No, instead, this silence makes him feel like a child about to be scolded by their parents for doing something they shouldn’t have.

It’s not far off, actually.

His eyes are trained on the view ahead of him- the bakery, watching the workers in the store slump over the counter in exhaustion as they count the minutes tick by and calculate how much longer it’ll be until they’re allowed to leave. It’s only in this silence that you actually cast your gaze to him, taking every inch of him in and storing it in the back of your mind for later.

His hair is a mess, long pink strands tied up into a messy bun that barely even does its job of keeping his hair out of his face. His wide, square glasses are left askew on his face, falling off the edge of his nose but hanging on at just the right angle so that they don’t fall. His eyes- his eyes are so dull and full of sorrow, you almost break into sobs then and there.

There’s so much emotion behind those brilliantly red eyes, the hundreds of different shades of the colour swirling into a mix that leaves you gasping for air.

Even so, you still want to yell and kick and scream and pull your hair out from its roots and ask him “why?” Why would he make a promise such as this- a promise in general if he couldn’t even keep his word to it?

You hate him and you love him all the same for it, but f*ck is this whole thing messing with your head.

Your focus then shifts from his face, down the length of his arms, to his hands. The drumming of his fingers against the steering wheel had stopped a short while ago, instead his hands turn to hold the object in a vice grip. One of which looks as though if he were to apply any more pressure to it, the steel would bend and break underneath him.

Your fingers twitch. You want to offer him comfort; you want to let him know you aren’t entirely mad at him- but, still; you are mad at him in a way, so wouldn’t that action contradict itself?

Your eyes travel back up to his face, but the difference this time, as opposed to the last, is that he meets your gaze. His entire body freezes and stiffens the second he meets your line of sight, breath catching in the back of his throat as his mind scrabble to figure out what he needs to do next as to not f*ck anything up further.

So, his solution in this scenario is to leave. His hands abruptly part in front of the wheel, almost in a way that resembles someone being burnt by a hot object. His sweaty palms leave a certain shine on the wheel, and it’s then that you can obviously see the dents his grip has left.

You almost don’t catch it, but he mumbles something under his breath, something along the lines of “you can keep the keys in the ignition if you want.”

Something like that.

He’s quick to open the door after those words leave his mouth, stepping out head-first with the crisp air biting his exposed face. He’s not entirely out yet, though, as only his first left and upper body have exited the car.

Now you have a choice to make, and you hope to all the gods that may listen that you’re making the right one.

“Wait, give me a second and I’ll be right behind you. Grab the keys.”

You aren’t surprised that he listens to your words, healing his movements as you open your own car door and exit the vehicle, arms continuing to curl around yourself, though this time the reason for doing so is because of the cold.

Techno notes that, already shedding the muddled brown cardigan he had been wearing moments before as he snatches the keys from the ignition. The car door shuts behind him with a slam, keys in one hand and sweater in the other.

He meets up with you around the hood of the car, passing you the sweater with pleading eyes, hoping that you’ll take it without argument. You do, and both you and him are grateful for that for your own reasons that don’t need entertaining at this time.

As the two of you cross the short distance from Techno’s car to the store’s front, his lips part in awe. He… he never expected you to come along with him. He thought you would have stayed in the car if anything, maybe turning on the heater and radio in wait for him, or possibly screaming into the void about how utterly stupid he is.

Or, hell- maybe you’d drive off and leave him where he stood.

But no, instead, you’re walking inside the bakery with him, your strides matching his as the two of you go up and down each aisle, inspecting the different loaves of bread and treats that the establishment offers.

Techno has a quaint brown basket in his hold at this point in time, one which he grabbed by the door the second he walked in. That minor aspect was something he rather enjoyed about the store, the small, stupid detail bringing a smile to his face- yours too, it seemed.

Even with this soft, barely noticeable grin on his face, you notice the way his hands are curled tightly around the handle once more. It’s an anxiety thing, that much you can tell. But you notice, of course you do, so as an attempt to ease the anxieties of the man you love, you softly curl your palm around the back of his.

It’s an attempt not only to soothe him, but to also try and ease this tension that’s been forming between the two of you.

Are you stupid for trying to comfort him after he ditched you and made you look like an idiot? Absolutely. But would you rather have him anxious and worried that he’s in worse than he thinks he is as opposed to him calm and ready to talk through it with a level head? Absolutely not.

He noticeably relaxes from your little gesture, his shoulders slumping a little as he casts his gaze at you. His eyes hold a silent “thank you” within them, and all you can do to respond is nod. He gets the message, bringing your hand atop of his up to his lips as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of it.

He’s got you wrapped around his finger even if he doesn’t know it.

A soft, breathy laugh passes through your lips at the affection, your eyes breaking away from him and instead toward the baked goods around you as you both walk up and down the mini-aisles within the confines of the store. Soft jazz plays over the speakers, perhaps Billie Holiday , and it only romanticizes the scene further.

Techno’s not necessarily looking for anything in particular while he’s here. He planned to just come in and buy you something sweet and hopefully that would somehow resolve his issues. But, watching your eyes linger on every item within the store, small oohs and aahs sounding from you every few seconds, he realizes that was a sh*tty plan to begin with.

As the two of you near the front of the store, a glass barrier displaying all the freshly cooked sweets under the countertops, you stop in your tracks and watch as one worker places a freshly baked batch of cinnamon rolls onto a rack.

Your sudden halt brings Techno to a stop beside you, his eyes moving their way up to your face, and then soon after following your gaze to the treat that was making the bakery smell sweeter than it already had.

It’s in that moment that Techno knows exactly what he’s getting.

Techno isn’t standing entirely beside you, per se, but rather a little bit behind you as your body has turned toward the cinnamon rolls ahead. So, with his hand at the dip of your back, he pressed you to move closer to the cash register, his head finding a home next to yours as he meets the eyes of the cash register.

The transaction moves quickly, the worker quickly putting four or so cinnamon rolls into a small box for the two of you to take. Though you are in no way focused on that part of anything. No, rather your attention lingers on the way his warm breaths fans down the side of your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You focus on the way his body presses into your back, the heat of him seeping through your clothes in a way that makes you shiver.

It’s only when he squeezes his hand around your own, tugging you softly towards the exit that you’re snapped out of this trance he’s put you in.

D*mn him.

But you get the notion quickly, following behind him as the smell of the cinnamon rolls follows you out the door and through the parking lot. There’s a silence between you two, but this time it’s in no way as awkward as it had been merely 15 minutes ago.

As you’re getting into the car, shutting the door softly behind you, you notice that Techno doesn’t open his trunk or stick the treats in the back seat of his car. Instead, he steps into the car head-first with the treats following after, placing the thin cardboard box onto this lap as he settles in, shutting the door behind him.

You watch as he opens up the box carefully, taking one roll out and hiding it to you. There are no napkins available, so the sticky coating of the treat travels from his hand to yours as you accept it, taking a bite the second the treat is in your grasp.

He follows your actions soon after, taking one for himself and taking a bite out of it. It’s the first thing he’s had to eat all day, so he tries his best not to eat like a starved man (even if that’s exactly what he does the second the flavours hit his tongue).

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, the cinnamony-sweet taste from the rolls settling and melting on to your tongues. It’s… gods, there aren’t words in the English language that can fully depict how good the treat tastes on his tongue right now.

Though, however good it may be, there’ll always be one taste that stands above the rest as his favorite,

The muddled silence shared between the two of you speaks a thousand words. The soft chewing, the sounds of dough tearing away from each other, the rustling of clothes against the seat- all of it.

Techno’s no good with his words, both of you know that. It’s not a bad thing, of course, as he expressed his feelings and emotions in other ways, but the fact is still important to note upon. Nonetheless, him going out of his way to buy you a treat as a sh*tty way to make up for forgetting about tonight is… well, a horrible way to make up for the situation. Though with Technoblade? You understand that these actions of his express the way he feels better than words ever could.

Between bites, though, he does make the effort to apologize to you verbally. He can’t meet your eyes while doing so, and while others might take that action as a way to say that he doesn’t actually mean his words, you as his partner know that it’s the only way he can put together his thoughts in a coherent manner as to stop them from crumbling beneath him.

Even if he never meets your gaze during his little speech, you keep your eyes entirely focused on him, your sticky fingers as a result of the icing dripping down them long forgotten and stored in the back of your mind for later reference.

It’s only when his mouth closes for good that he actually turns his head, deep red eyes meeting yours. Though you could never understand it, there’s this way his breath audibly catches when he meets your eyes. They’re so full of… emotion, in a way that he can only describe as a love-struck gaze that makes his heart skip a few beats, a dopey smile forming on his lips.

Every part about you, every little thing that makes up who you are - he can see all the love and understanding and compassion that follows them when you look at him. The way your smile reaches your eyes, the way the colors in your eyes mix in a way he’s never seen before, pupils blown wide and visible to him. Just-every single thing about you leaves him at a loss for words.

He loves it.

You take Techno’s face in your hands, sticking fingers pressing up against his cheeks as you take hold of him and guide his lips to yours. The kiss is so sweet, so soft and full of love that he can’t help but slump against your hold, fingers finding themselves at your waist as he ever so slowly drags you impossibly closer to him.

F*ck, the two of you would stay like this forever if you could, your lips pressed against each other in kisses that leave you both light-headed and dizzy.

But alas, air is something that the body can only go so long without. So, as your lips part from Techno’s, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you, he presses his forehead into yours with a guttural humm following after it.

He loves you; he loves you; he loves you; he loves you. Gods above, the things he would do for you- to you, if you so asked. He’s wrapped around your finger and gods, he’d be a fool to ever try to leave that.

So, as your softly whisper against his skin, telling him that you’re grateful he made an effort to make it up to you, but you still are quite a bit upset about the whole thing- you tell him that you’re willing to put the situation behind the both of you so long as he made it up the right way in the future.

He knows that he has work to put in to better himself and your relationship, but as he presses tender and fervent kisses against your lips and skin, he takes a deep breath to give you a proclamation that leaves a lovesick grin plastered onto your face with your mind in a haze that make you euphoric:

“I know that I have work to do, I know that I need to get better at- well, a lot of things. But thank you, thank you, thank you for forgiving me this once. I promise to you, darling, that I’ll take a thousand years and then some to make it up to you if that’s what it takes. My heart is yours, and in your care it shall stay.”

[itsallmightbitch]

Hell Week

Where have I been you ask? Recovering from the moment I found out that All Might’s middle finger is 6.2 inches long- that’s where. Jesus Lord I haven’t stopped sweating since.

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Choking, Daddy kink, slight Praise kink and semi-public sex. Minors- even though I can’t make you not interact- I can come to your house and tell your mother and I want you to picture how that interaction would go down. I’ll show her your browser history I swear to God-

Word Count: 11,000+ 

Summary: Exam season had finally rolled around at U.A. and had been lovingly dubbed Hell Week by every long suffering member of staff there. All Might didn’t think it would be that bad- until it starts to get in the way of him doing one of his favourite activities. 

Namely you.

*as always, the gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate for the story O_O

-

You hated Hell Week but then... so did everyone.

 Those were the first thoughts you had when you stepped into the lecture hall on a sunny Monday morning. Desks upon desks, lined in neat rows, filled the room from front to back- each one with it’s own face down paper on top.

 It was exam season. It was exactly like flu season but with far more suffering.

 There was however, one very faint light at the end of the tunnel and it was the only reason you weren’t hopping a plane to some far away country and hiding there until this was all over. All Might, the big lovable dork, had zero idea of what was about to hit him. He’d only been teaching at UA for just under a year- missing the last exam season but just in time for this one.

 He’d been fucking you just a little bit longer than that but in all the time you’d been seeing him, you’d never brought up just how horrible it was.

 By the time you made it across the room, the door was opening again and sure enough, All Might ducked under the doorway to the lecture hall looking far more put together than he had when you’d left him that morning. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him as he’d sprawled out across your bed- his skinny frame taking up just as much room as his muscular one did.

 He was such a bed hog, you thought, a smile tugging at your lips.

 Looking far too cheerful for this time of the morning- and clearly oblivious about what was to come- he slipped through the desks and headed straight for you. Even though his eagerness to see you made your heart thump harder in your chest, you couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped either.

 He was simply awful at hiding your relationship. The only reason you hadn’t been outed to the whole school yet was because you were a little more restrained than he was. 

Well... that and you told Hizashi to stop fucking prying into your business with such heat in your voice that anyone within earshot had decided to comply too and had left you both alone.

 Still, the fact that Toshinori couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t stop himself being near you all the time… it brought to life the butterflies that had made a permanent home in your stomach. So much for it being just sex.

 That had gone out of the window long ago.

 “Good morning,” he rumbled, finally next to you and you grinned up at him affectionately. His tie was crooked- the only indication that he’d woken up a little too late for comfort and slept through the alarm you’d set before you’d left for work. Glancing around, you found that you were alone with him and so you reached up, straightening the knot and smoothing the material flat against his solid chest.

 “Hi,” you answered at long last and it was the only thing you had time to say before his lips found yours for a kiss.

 You melted into it. There hadn’t really been much time for kisses lately. Between hero work and exam week prep, you’d both been exhausted and the only reason he’d even stayed over the night before was because he’d graciously offered to help you mark homework and lighten the load. You’d fallen into bed and slept deeply without even a thought of doing anything else- which was admittedly unusual for you both. Despite long work days and how tired his injury made him, Toshinori was insatiable when it came to you.

 Not that you were bragging or anything but… well. Look at him. You were goddamn blessed.

 “I missed you this morning,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with those deep, pretty eyes of his. A shiver of lust made it’s way through you and you were suddenly sorry you hadn’t gone through with your plan to wake him up before you’d left. He’d just looked so damn sweet with his face buried in your pillow, snoring softly, that you’d decided to leave him be.

 You graced him with a winning smile.

 “Didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, glancing towards the double doors at the back of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching and you knew he could too, by the way his eyes followed your line of sight seconds later. “You looked like you needed the sleep, baby.”

 He flashed you a grin, his eyebrows raising in an expression you knew all too well. All Might was horny and he wasn’t afraid to let you know about it- despite the sounds of other people getting ever closer. Arousal made your stomach dip low and you shivered involuntarily.

 A big, warm hand curled around your waist and you were suddenly tugged closer until you were plastered against him, your hands pressing flat on his hard chest.

 Oh yeah, you thought smugly. 

This man was hot for you and your eyes mindlessly followed the path his tongue took over his teeth, coming to a stop on the point of his canine. The hand that was on your waist slid lower, to the small of your back and then across the curve of your ass until his fingers slipped ever so lightly to press between your legs.

 The noise you made was highly inappropriate for the workplace but fuck, when he acted like this it drove you to the point of losing any inhibitions you would normally have.

 “I’ll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to that timbre that had talked you into doing absolutely unspeakable things with only a few, encouraging words. “As many times as you want, for as long as you want.”

 You bit your lip, a grin threatening to break through.

 “Oh Toshi,” you cooed, patting his chest sympathetically. He was absolutely oblivious to the horror that was about to hit him square in the face.

 The doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open with a metallic thunk and within seconds you had escaped his grasp to stand at an appropriate distance, laughing inwardly at his puppy dog head tilt. His thick eyebrow quirked in question and you shot him one last pitying look. “You have no idea what you’re in for this week, do you?”

 You almost felt guilty for not elaborating and you had no doubt that he’d get revenge on you in some way, shape or form in the coming months. But for now you left it vague- left him looking confused but unable to question you as Aizawa and Nemuri approached with a line of sullen looking teenagers behind them.

 He wouldn’t have the time or energy to breathe this week, let alone do anything remotely athletic in the bedroom.

 It wasn’t called Hell Week for nothing.

 -

 It was Wednesday. You were tantalizingly close to the end of the week but also far too far away from it.

 Brushing against Toshinori while you passed each other in the aisle- supposedly observing the students as they scribbled away- was the most action either of you had gotten for days now. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose exactly, but the big jerk made it a point to touch you every time. Brushing his hand against yours. A palm on the small of your back as he gave way and let you through- so gentlemanly to any observer but the tension in his touch was a dead giveaway.

 The way his eyes darkened and he exhaled impatiently through his nose, almost as though if he opened his mouth he would say something entirely inappropriate. He wasn’t being chivalrous in his head in the least.

 He was thinking about fucking you and hard.

 It eventually got to the point that you couldn’t resist. 

Teasing him was just in your nature and every little innocent touch as your bodies passed so close was driving you insane. So as you passed him by at the back of the room, as far away from prying ears as possible, you whispered-

 “I’m so fucking wet for you right now.”

 - so softly that it could have been nothing at all. He heard you just fine though and you felt his whole body tense like he was being electrocuted.

 You carried on, grinning to yourself smugly as you did and all the while Toshinori stood like a statue- eyes wide and lips parted like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard come out of your mouth. He glanced back at your retreating form, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.

 Oh yeah, you had royally pissed him off.

 And turned him on.

 Terribly proud of yourself, you went back to being an excellent teacher and leaned over to help an impatient Bakugo- who had run out of paper for his final question and by the looks of it, fucks to give too. Honestly, same. 

It took a couple of minutes for you to grab some extra paper at the front of the room and reassure the kid that his answer was on the right track, as vaguely as possible of course- so by the time you were about to make another pass of your boyfriend, you’d almost forgotten what you had said the last time.

 He clearly hadn’t.

 “Phone.”

 That was all he said as he passed you, his lips quirking at the corner and by the time you were at the front of the room with your back away from prying eyes, you were itching to know what he’d meant by that.

 You hadn’t felt your phone buzz in your pocket- although you had been distracted up until now and it was likely it had gone off without you noticing. Although you also hadn’t seen Toshi with his phone out either, unless he was being extra sneaky. 

Which at this point, you wouldn’t put past him.

 Sure enough, there it was on your screen. A message notification from ‘The Big Guy’. You smiled and despite your better judgement, you opened it in front of fifty or so quiet, focused students. After all, what could it possibly be other than maybe a little dirty response to what you’d whispered to him earlier?

 When your joined chat opened at last, the noise you made wasn’t human. It caught in your throat and when a few of the kids looked up in confusion, you had to pass it off as a cough before they began to ask questions.

Questions like, why are you turning that shade of red? Or, why did you just make a noise like a dying swan?

 All Might, that lovable, sweet, smiling number one hero, was leering at you from the back of the room- his grin absolutely filthy.

 When you were satisfied that the kids were focused on their exams again, you stared at the picture he’d sent you, face flushing hot.

 When the fuck had he even taken this?

 The photo was taken from a very low angle, his expression in the background much like the one he was wearing right now as he watched you- except his cheeks were a little pinker. He was wearing his hero costume, reclining on what looked like the bed in his apartment with one hand gripping the headboard behind his head.

 The picture of relaxation and innocence.

 Except his outfit was splayed open and his cock was jutting out from it proudly. You could see the fucking precum beading on the head, all shiny in the low light and you were practically drooling over your phone when it buzzed again.

 “Shit-” you hissed, jumping and almost dropping it. That would have been sensational. A picture of All Might’s cock sailing majestically across the floor for all the students to see.

 You hurriedly scrolled down to read what he’d messaged you.

 ‘You looked a little flustered. Everything okay?’

 The bastard had even attached a winking emoji to the end of the text and you were both pissed off that he’d gotten the better of you and impressed that he’d taken such a fucking great nude. Then had the courage to send it to you, whereas months ago he would have chickened out and complained about you seeing the scar across his side.

With embarrassingly shaky fingers you managed to type out a reply, not even able to stay mad.

 ‘Baby, no lie. You should wear every outfit like that’, you responded, chewing on your bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile off your face. ‘Crime would drop to an all time fucking low’.

 Carrying on your route again, you watched him from your peripheral as he innocently took his phone out to read your response, so nonchalant and cocky.

 After a moment of reading, he barked a loud laugh that turned a few heads, before turning pink and muttering an apology to the students he’d just disturbed.

You nudged him playfully the next time you passed each other, winking at him and then feeling incredibly pleased with yourself when he grinned and shook his head- clearly enjoying the moment that had passed between you in full view of everyone.

 But, despite the thrumming sexual tension that crackled between you both for the rest of the day, by the time you got home there was only half an hour in which to change into your hero outfits and stare longingly at each other before going your separate ways for the evening.

 You were taking a fucking vacation this time next year and Nezu, the little sociopath, could pry your holiday hours from your cold, dead hands.

-

 “On your knees. Now.”

 Caught by surprise, you spun around in what you had thought was the empty auditorium- only to come face to chest with your very tall, very haggard looking boyfriend.

 “Huh?” you said stupidly, because the request wasn’t quite what you’d been expecting him to say. Not that you’d expected anyone at all to still be wandering around when the weekend and sweet, sweet freedom was calling.

 It was Friday and the last exam of Hell Week had finished an hour ago- a moment you’d both been looking forward to since the first set of exams had started. In fact, the way the other teachers had all but sprinted past the kids on the way out- you guessed that you and Toshi weren’t the only ones who had been willing this week to end.

 Toshinori had quickly figured out that he was not in for an easy work week as he’d first thought and the mounting pressure of grading papers, comforting stressed teenagers at all hours of the day and attempting to not have a breakdown had taken it’s toll.

 Every night, you’d both crawled into bed at some ungodly hour after midnight, exhausted from grading and the ever persistent hero work that took up a good chunk of your evenings. On top of all that, you knew Toshinori was still sneaking off every lunch time to get in a training session with Midoriya- and not eating anything the entire time either.

 You’d begun to sneak Midoriya lunches to share with his mentor just to make sure your boyfriend was at least getting something through the day and not neglecting himself as he always did.

 Then, you’d been over compensating with dinner and as a result had even less time to do anything remotely relating to a relationship.

 The only time the two of you had been close this week was when you woke up extra early for cuddles and even they couldn’t last long when the alarm would start to blare.

 All that and the pent up sexual tension meant that when Toshi told you to get on your knees with that ravenous look in his eye, your panties were soaking in seconds. However, there was still a little, itty bitty part of you with some common sense left at least and you glanced around the room before giving him a pointed look.

 “Babe, I know this week has been rough but is this really a good idea? What if someone comes?”

 You heard it the moment it left your lips and when you looked at his expression it was full of barely repressed mirth, his shoulders already shaking. He could be so immature sometimes. You rolled your eyes, despite your own smile spreading on your face.

 “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

 “You think anyone, student or teacher is going to want to look at this room again before Monday? The only reason I’m still in it is because all I’ve been thinking about, all day, is you sucking my cock sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he rumbled in that deep, sexy baritone that he brought out whenever he wanted something from you.

 The one you found it impossible to say no to.

 His fingers trailed over your cheek and he took the moment of weakness in your resolve to swoop down and kiss you hard.

 You’d barely even had a moment to kiss this week and so the second his mouth was on yours, common sense was tied up and gagged. Horny you was now in charge and fuck, your boyfriend was looking fine today.

 It took no more persuasion for you to drop to your knees in front of him and when you looked up at him, impossibly tall as he was, his cheeks were pink and his eyes dark. He probably thought it would have taken a lot more persuasion than that but what could you say?

 Getting dicked down in the school was on your bucket list anyway and right now you imagined that it was hastily being added to his as well.

 “If anyone catches us, I’m leaving the country,” you muttered, taking another cursory glance around. This position was incriminating enough should someone walk in- and you weren’t even doing anything yet. Imagine the scandal if someone caught you blowing All Might- paragon of virtue and strength- in the middle of your workplace.

It was almost enough to make you stand back up again and put a stop to the whole thing but then he went and palmed the very obvious erection that was straining against the front of his pants and all you could suddenly think about was licking him from top to bottom.

 “I won’t let anyone catch us,” he said reassuringly. He pointed to his ear as though you’d forgotten about the whole, excellent hearing thing. You snorted.

 “Toshi, no offence but when we’re in the middle of sex a bomb could go off under the bed and you wouldn’t hear it.”

 He looked momentarily offended before his expression dropped into a sheepish smile, one big hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He knew you were right. Once he got into the zone there was no stopping him. It was kind of sweet, how intense he became. Even if you weren’t playing a game and just having some nice, lazy vanilla sex, he would get all possessive and serious and pull you in close to gaze into your eyes like it was the end of the world-

 You only realized you had spaced out when he spoke again and you snapped back to reality with a rising flush on your face.

 “Heh, I guess you’re right. But I promise, I won’t let anyone sneak up on us. You can count on me,” he beamed down at you and that promise alone was enough to make you relax and nod your consent.

 His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the air in the room suddenly shifted, turning electric and leaving you both buzzing with the knowledge that you were about to do something very naughty.

 Finding out that Toshinori was as kinky as you had been a bit of a shock at first. You’d expected him to be a the kind of guy who was insanely careful with his strength and as a result, gentle in bed. The sort of man who would whisper sweet words of encouragement to you and treat you like a princess the whole time.

 While there were times he did just that, imagine your surprise one night when he’d grabbed the back of your neck and told you to be a good girl and suck his dick. Ever since then, it had been one wild ride with you never quite knowing what he was going to do next.

 Afterwards, he’d quite shyly admitted that he’d never been entirely comfortable with letting anyone see that side of him.

 So he’d kept it hidden just in case.

 You nuzzled your nose against the straining bulge at the front of his pants, whining for him. Toshinori quirked an eyebrow at you, petting your head lazily.

 “Look at you,” he murmured, sounding undone already. “You’re always so eager for Daddy’s cock, huh?”

 It was no secret that it ruined you when he said things like that. Sweet, lovable All Might had an absolutely filthy mouth in bed and it turned you on every time he brought it out. His thick fingers trailed down your cheek, while his other hand slipped his loose tie from his neck with a snap.

 “You know, everything you do turns me on,” he mused, his head cocked to one side as he stared down at you. His voice was like butter and you felt your thighs quiver. “It’s almost as though you know what you’re doing. Do you enjoy it? Knowing that all you have to do is look at me and I’m hard as a rock in seconds?”

 You nodded, a little too eagerly.

 “What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” you breathed, excitedly. Because you already knew what he was going to do. A muscle in his jaw ticked

This week had royally sucked and there was only one thing that was going to improve it. His mouth quirked at the corner despite the stern demeanour he was aiming for. That mouth had done some damn fine things to you in the past and you didn’t doubt that it would keep going in the future.

A pleasant feeling of wetness spread slowly but steadily between your legs. 

Your lips parted, soft puffs of breath warming the front of his pants. His cock was so close and you wanted it, wanted to take him into your mouth and give him a front row seat to just how much you enjoyed sucking him off.

In public no less.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed, noticing how impatient you were.

Suddenly, the soft silken material of his tie was being wrapped around your throat and knotted. He twisted the other end and wound it around his fist, giving an experimental tug. 

When it tightened ever so slightly, you moaned. It was nowhere near tight enough yet but you could already imagine it digging in and making you choke. Fuck, being choked- controlled like this shouldn’t have sent sparks dashing across every nerve ending- but it did and you tugged back to tighten it a little bit more.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to get on with things. The material around your throat was just tight enough to remind you who was in control here and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the outline of his cock. 

He grunted, pleased.

“Okay, you know the rules sweetheart. Red if you want to stop. Yellow if you need a second to breathe. Green if everything is fine. What’s our safe word?”

“Toshi,” you breathed, exasperated but not overly so. “I know the safe word. We’re on a time limit here baby.”

“Humour me,” was his firm, no nonsense answer and he gave you a look that meant he wasn’t messing around. He wanted to be sure that you knew it. 

You nodded. You were both experienced enough now that he didn’t really need to repeat the rules every time but it was sweet that he did anyway. Usually he would go above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable when you played like this and despite being on something of a time limit, now was no exception.

It was also just one of the many reasons that the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing had never worked out between you two. He was just too damn good to you. 

Any limits you had tried to impose between each other had quickly dissolved until you were both forced to admit that you wanted more than just sex. Not that you were complaining at all.

A quick, forceful tug on your makeshift leash brought you back to reality and you finally laughed, “Okay, okay! Watermelon.”

It only took a little guffaw on his part to trigger more of your own dumb laughter.

You both giggled to yourselves at the absurdity behind that word- a shared story of absolute shame, embarrassment and too much tequila that must never be told again. Why he’d insisted on it being your safe word you would never know but it was clear by now that you had trouble saying no to him.

He beamed down at you, all starry eyed and you were well aware that you expression mirrored his. Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, you nuzzled against him, nosing at the zipper of his slacks and making an impatient noise.

In a split second, his eyes darkened like he suddenly remembered where you both were. 

Auditorium.

U.A.

A very big possibility of getting caught doing something incredibly naughty. You sobered, partly because of the thrill of danger thrumming through your veins. Partly because the number one hero was staring down at you, tie in hand and looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat you whole.

“So,” he rumbled, voice like thunder in the sky, sounding miles away from his usual cheery self and more like a teacher about to dish out some serious punishment. “Are you going to keep me waiting? I’m getting impatient sweetheart.” 

No, you thought hazily, feeling your knees tremble and your clit throb in time with your racing heart. You would definitely have to do something about that. So you shook your head enthusiastically.

“Good girl,” he praised and you immediately felt a headrush, your fingers clenching tightly in the material of his slacks. “Now, take Daddy’s cock out for him,” he said and the words left no room for argument. Hah. Like you even would. Trailing your fingers across the front of his zipper, you were more than happy to do as he asked.

 You undid the button with shaking fingers and then down came the zip, bit by bit until you could push both sides wide apart. Dipping your hand into his now open pants, you felt his gaze boring into the top of your head- intense and heated as he watched you do as he said. At last, you wrapped your hand around the thick shaft of his cock and tugged him out. He hissed softly as it met the cool air of the room.

 All you could think was finally.

 He was just centimetres away from your face, all thick and solid- the tip leaking beads of precum that drooled down to where your fingers were on him. You wanted to lick them up, taste him on your tongue but you didn’t dare move because he hadn’t told you to yet.

 “Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asked and you felt sudden relief that this wasn’t about to go to waste.

 “Can I lick you? Please,” you managed to say through heavy breaths and a groan caught in his chest. He wasn’t exactly immune to dirty talk and he’d admitted to you once that hearing you talk like that made him hard. Honestly, you didn’t think he could get any harder.

 You could feel the thrum of his blood pumping, making his cock pulse in your hand.

 He gripped himself at the base and you let go, albeit reluctantly, when he tugged on his tie. Moving himself forward a little, he rubbed the head across your lips and you desperately wanted to open up and take him in but you refrained.

 “Mouth open. Tongue out,” he said, his voice strained and you obeyed.

 Red flushed across your cheeks when his gaze trailed over your face and he groaned, fist tightening around the tie in his hand. He rested the head of his cock on your tongue for just a moment, watching the precum continue to bead out- sliding down into your mouth now instead of being wasted.

 You made an impatient noise that, were you both at home with plenty of time, wouldn’t have gone unpunished- but time was of the essence here.

 Sort of.

 “Just admiring the view, princess,” he said after an agonizing moment of simply staying still. Wetness was spreading between your legs, warm and slick and the ache that accompanied it was intense. “You really do look amazing like that.”

 Toshi pressed further into your mouth, revelling in the hot wet heat that welcomed him.

 He was big and you had to relax your jaw a lot to take him inside but you were more than used to it- seeing as one of his favourite activities was watching you go down on him. He kept going until he was barely brushing the back of your throat and he gave himself a squeeze as though to keep himself in check.

 He let go then and trailed his thumb down, across your bottom lip and chin before pulling away completely.

 “Now suck me off,” he ordered, an edge of strain to his voice.

 You did just that, eager to please him. The tie tightened again around your neck- probably involuntarily as you went to town- but it still spurred a strangled moan out of you that vibrated through his cock.

 He grunted your name, his hips bucking. You could tell that he was restraining himself though, considering you hadn’t been thrown clean across the room.

 You hollowed your cheeks and dragged upwards, using the flat of your tongue on the underside of him.

 “That’s it sweetheart,” he moaned. “Just like that. You’re so good for Daddy. So hot,” he said mindlessly, a string of incoherent thoughts just spilling from his lips as he got lost in the pleasure of your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you could put him in this state just with a blowjob.

 “You’re perfect baby,” he sighed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling of the hot, wet suction on his cock. You traced a line along the vein that protruded from the length of him with the point of your tongue and saw his thigh muscles twitch hard. 

 Your body sang in response. It had taken you so long to bring him out of his shell at the beginning of your relationship and now here he was- getting sucked off in the middle of an auditorium, singing your praises out loud for anyone to hear.

From convincing him that your age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest, to coaxing him into being a little rougher in bed, it had been a long road, getting him to open up about his likes and dislikes. Getting him to put his trust in you. Making him believe that you wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t walk away because he had a kink you didn’t like.

 But in the end, all of your kinks had actually aligned.

 Choking, domination, praise-

 The day you’d accidentally called him Daddy for the first time, though… Oh that had been something else.

 You had been riding him on the living room floor, setting an almost punishing pace that would leave you both spent for the rest of the day. Somehow, you had convinced him to keep the curtains open- the thought of getting caught thrilling you down to the bone even though he’d looked intimidated at the implication.

 Although he’d insisted that you be on top and had even smoothed down his hair to try and stay out of sight and that had made you giggle- the thought of the headlines the next day should you get caught.

 Breaking News! All Might’s Dick Just As Big As We’d Expected! Lucky Woman Found Unconscious At Scene!

 Your knees had been red and sore from the rug underneath you but you’d been so mindlessly set on coming that you’d barely noticed.

 His fingers were digging hard into your hips and the moment you’d started bouncing in his lap, his sense of privacy had gone and he was into it- encouraging you to roll your hips, pressing your tits together to push his face between them and spurring you onwards with an absolutely filthy monologue.

 You stood by the fact that it had not been your fault. Especially when he’d started with the whole, ‘you’re such a good girl’ shit. You had been close- so close and he’d been panting your praises and the damn words had slipped out without you meaning them to.

 A broken, stilted sob of-

 “Fu-uck yeah, harder Daddy!”

 You’d continued for another three seconds- full porn star mode activated- until you’d realized what you’d just said and all movement had ceased. Apart from the slow raising of your head to look him in the eye, deer in headlights meets startled rabbit, neither of you made a motion to continue.

 “Um… I- Sorry, it just slipped out,” you’d said sheepishly, body still thrumming from the thrill of saying it out loud and from the orgasm that had been tantalizingly close. He still hadn’t spoken, lips parted as though he wanted to try but was failing spectacularly. “It’s okay if you aren’t into it baby!” you had continued hastily. “If you want we can just forget about it-”

 “No!” he’d said, finally finding his voice at long last. His hips had snapped upwards, rattling your brain and driving his cock inside again with a new, energized rhythm. “No, no, no… Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it,” he’d rumbled, burying his face against your neck, pressing hot, desperate kisses to your skin. “You can say it again if you want.”

 Who the Hell were you to argue with All Might when he was asking you to do that?

 After that, the age difference, the scars he bore, the kinks you both shared- it all felt much more open. There was a newfound easiness to your relationship. You felt like you could share anything with him and vice versa and because of that, you swiftly discovered that Toshinori was kinky as Hell.

 And just as repressed.

 He didn’t dare share those parts of himself before because if they were ever repeated to newspapers or reporters, he would face inevitable ridicule from the general public because he was put on such an untouchable pedestal. It had greatly upset you that because of who he was and what he put on the line every day, he wasn’t allowed to be himself even in private.

But he’d never trusted anyone, he told you then, the way he trusted you.

 At the thought of him saying those words to you, you groaned, mouth full as you slid him inside as far as you could. His head snapped back up to stare at you, his lips parting and a throaty moan slipping out. You rolled back, bobbing your head in an easy rhythm and with each downwards stroke, you took him in further.

 Drool made him slick and shiny and easy to take, but you still had to grip his thigh for support the further you went. Once again, the tie around your throat tightened. It was just tight enough now to start making itself known- start to be worrying but the mere feel of it was making your clit throb painfully between your legs.

 You wanted more.

 You wanted him to choke you with it.

 Breathing through your nose now, you let your throat relax and finally took him in as far as you were physically capable. Your wish abruptly came true and the feeling of the head of his cock pressing down the back of your throat, coupled with the tightness of the tie, made you gag around him.

 Toshinori swore, loudly, half in pleasure and half in concern.

 But when he made to pull out of your mouth, the hand that had been gripping his thigh found his ass instead and you refused to let him go. You made a noise of protest and he stopped moving altogether, his stuttering hips trying desperately not to buck into you and make it any worse.

 You had to make a conscious effort to ignore your gag reflex, dropping your head forward to take him in again- albeit a little more carefully than before. Just before he could hit the back of your throat, you slowed down to a crawl, working him in further without making your body panic.

 The sensation wrenched a full body shiver from him, his breath heaving in his broad chest.

 “That’s my girl,” he praised fervently, his cheeks hot and the muscles in his abdomen fluttering and twitching. “You’re the best little cocksucker ever, aren’t you darling?” You absolutely would have answered if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied. His words were turning you on, making you desperate for an orgasm but your hands were far too busy on him to think about touching yourself.

 He would take care of you later, no doubt. So for now, you concentrated on bringing him to the edge.

 Now, usually you weren’t one to blow your own horn but in this case, you would openly and quite proudly admit that you had a knack for getting him off. Especially with your mouth. You’d never given a blowjob with quite as much enthusiasm as you did when it was with him and it was like he knew that.

 He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling above you and making the already straining buttons of his shirt even tauter as his muscles flexed.

 Such was your enjoyment of his reactions that the fact that you kept choking on the tip of his cock was only a mild inconvenience. He tasted hot and salty on your tongue, precum mixing thickly with your saliva and escaping from the corner of your mouth.

 He grit his teeth, a growl half mingled with a moan dragged from his throat at the sight.

 He caught it halfway down your chin with a swipe of his thumb and then tugged on the tie around your neck. Reluctantly, you released him- silently proud of the slick, dark pink throbbing mess that you’d left him in. Your jaw ached, yeah, but it wasn’t unbearable and it quickly eased now that he wasn’t in your mouth any more.

 You parted your lips in anticipation of his thumb- assuming he wasn’t going to let you waste anything.

 “Uh-uh, lips closed sweetheart.”

 You raised your eyebrows, amused at his hungry expression and did as he said. But not before biting your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it to leave it redder than it had been. His shoulders dropped when he heaved a pleased, wanting sigh.

 “Absolute tease,” he murmured fondly, before smearing the come and saliva across your closed lips to make them shiny.

 Before he could move his hand away, your tongue darted out to catch him and he humoured you instead of giving you a warning tug on the tie. He pressed his thumb between your waiting lips- still sticky with precum and saliva and the groan that he released when you swirled your tongue around him was sinful.

 A full body tremor ran from your toes to your fingertips and he noticed- because this was All Might and he noticed everything. His lips tugged upwards in a devastatingly attractive smirk- the kind you would see on a villain’s face in the heat of battle. 

It was so unusual, but fuck did it look good on him.

 Your palms flattened on his muscular thighs, sliding upwards and drinking in the warmth radiating from him under your fingertips. More than anything you wanted to pull his pants down further- feel his skin under your hand but he was calling the shots and you didn’t dare. There was also the fact that if anyone were to walk in they would get an eyeful off his bare ass and no-one was allowed that privilege but you.

 He smoothed his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face in his massive hand and tilting your head up to look at him. Honestly, you must have looked like a disaster zone.

 Cheeks red with arousal, practically panting, lips parted in anticipation.

 That only seemed to turn him on more. His eyes flashed with lust and his tongue darted out and what you wouldn’t give right now to be able to read his mind. When he took his hand away to grip the base of his cock, you whined pathetically. You didn’t really know what you wanted though and right now you didn’t have the words to actually vocalize it either.

 Did you need to come? Absolutely.

 Did you also need to have his cock back in your mouth? Yes, with a capital Y.

 Not to mention the tie was going a little slack and you were beginning to miss the tightness around your throat. A thought quickly crossed your mind that made you clench your thighs, shivering under the pulse of arousal that washed over you. You wanted his hand around your throat instead.

 Toshinori cocked his head to the side, still stroking himself.

 You tugged on his pinstripe slacks and then pitched forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the shaft of his cock- sloppily almost missing and kissing his fingers too. You were shaking, trembling with the sweet ache and you desperately needed something to take the edge off.

 “Colour?” he asked, tugging you away gently by the tie.

 “Yellow,” you breathed, clit throbbing with tension that you couldn’t do anything about and your body tightly thrumming.

 He seemed genuinely surprised by your choice, though the silken material around your throat went slack almost immediately and he took a swift step away from you- giving you the space that you didn’t actually want. All you really wanted was an opportunity to talk openly.

 “Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took in your dishevelled state- as though he was seeing what he’d done to you clearly for the first time. “Is the tie too tight? Do you need some water or-”

 You waved him off with your hand, trying to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. Your throat was dry sure, but not for the reason he was thinking. Goddamn this man and the things he did to you- whether he meant them or not.

 “No- No Toshi,” you answered, breathlessly, chest heaving. “I’m fine, I just- Please, I want your hand instead of the tie.”

 The only indication that he was surprised by the request was a quirk of his eyebrows.

 “Oh,” he snorted softly, his cock bobbing back and forth with every movement he made. Your gaze zoned in on it, lips parting almost expectantly despite still being on a momentary time out. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

 “You know me better than that, Toshi,” you admonished, tugging at his slacks again. When he didn’t move, a pleading whine caught in your throat.

 “M’ waiting sweetheart,” he sing-songed lightly and you shivered from head to toe as the game began again. The tie drew taught, almost too quickly as his excitement got the better of him. A strangled gasp cut off in the air as you looked up at him, wondering how he seemed so composed while you were basically reduced to pieces on the floor.

 “Please, Daddy,” you pouted, impatient but still willing to give him what he wanted.

 The words and the sight of you, basically begging on your knees, urged him into action and any further teasing he might have been considering was abandoned. You both needed to come, that much was clear and drawing it out any longer wasn’t helping either of you.

 Long, powerful fingers curled around your throat and your pussy throbbed as though an electric current had passed between you both. Granted, from the way he was staring at you as he ducked down to reach you, it might as well have.

 You were pliant and easily led, rising to your feet with the barest hint of a tug. You wrapped a hand over his wrist to steady yourself, thrilled when as usual, your fingers didn’t stand a chance of meeting around it.

 He squeezed and your legs quivered, a tremble wracking your thighs.

 His other hand had abandoned the tie now and instead swept up over your thigh as he walked you backwards. You hit the desk with a bump but Toshinori didn’t give you more than a second to get your bearings. He leaned past you and despite the mess you would have to clear up before you both went home, he swept one big arm across the surface of the desk to clear it for you.

 Everything scattered in a wide arc but you were much too busy lifting yourself up to sit on the edge, your boyfriend’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around your neck. His hand was so damn big that his fingers actually met around the circumference and knowing that did little to quell the heat in your belly.

 “Baby,” you muttered needily but Toshi was already sweeping forward to kiss you- all tongue and teeth and he really didn’t seem to care that you probably tasted of his own cock right now because the way his tongue pressed and licked at your own was almost obscene.

 You were, officially, a disaster zone of a human being.

 Toshi squeezed again and you broke away from his kiss with a choked moan of desperation. The week long drought had finally, finally broken you.

 “Please,” you whined. “Please, please, please-”

 He was already unbuttoning your jeans, thick fingers fumbling on the button and zipper until at last you batted his hand away and did it yourself, ignoring his chuckle at how eager you were. His cock jutted proudly from his open pants and his shirt had come untucked at some point that you couldn’t remember but it gave him a dishevelled, ‘just fucked’ look that was doing things to you.

 Not that there was much more to be done.

 The whole thing was reminding you of the picture he’d sent you two days ago and what you wouldn’t have given to have been there that time too.

 He let go of your neck briefly to help you out of your jeans and panties, stripping you from the waist down.

 A moment later and his hands went in two different directions.

 One cupped between your legs, forcing them apart as he dipped his two middle fingers between the lips of your pussy. A breath caught in his chest. You had been soaking wet ever since he’d told you to get on your knees for fuck’s sake. The other hand, to your relief, went right back where you wanted it to be.

 He pressed you backwards on the now empty desk until your back level with the surface and you were staring up at the ceiling. You were almost vibrating in anticipation, hitching your knees up to rest on his hips and locking your ankles at the small of his back.

 Toshi hovered over you, all solid muscle and wolfish grin and you almost leaned up for a kiss before remembering that doing so would lead to you choking under his hand. You hadn’t had sex with him in this muscular form for a while now and sometimes you forgot just how fucking strong his grip was.

 Instead, you rolled your lower body upwards to encourage him to move and in doing so, accidentally rubbed yourself on his fingers.

 The sudden jolt of pressure against your clit went straight to your head and much to your utter shame, you mewled like a goddamn kitten. You made a fucking noise that sounded so pathetic it almost made you throw your hands up and put a stop to the whole thing.

 He was staring at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

 “Not a word!” you warned, game forgotten for a moment- along with any urgency you might have had over being in public like this. “We are never, ever speaking of that again,” you muttered, face flushed with mortification when he opened his mouth to speak. “If I ever make a noise like that again, I want you to throw me into the sun- Oh fuck!”

 Toshinori, was now beaming from ear to ear, smug that he’d drawn it out of you.

 He very clearly disagreed with the verdict you’d given and once again, he dragged the pads of his thick fingers upwards to circle your clit lazily- and anything else that was about to come out of your mouth morphed into a pleased moan.

 “Ah, ah, ah, kitten,” he said and you scowled at him despite the throbbing, delicious pleasure he was currently providing you. You supposed that the flush on your face and the little pants you were letting out did nothing to make you seem intimidating. “I think that that was one of my favourite noises ever. Think I can make you make it again?” he asked, nuzzling between your breasts and your hardened nipples tingled against the fabric of your bra.

 “You’d better fucking not-” you tried to say.

 But all of a sudden, Toshi’s hand tightened around your throat and you gasped as he loomed over you. His fingers began to move in tight, fast little circles- the kind he would use when he wanted you to come quickly and you could already feel the building tension in your thighs and stomach as he glanced between you both to see what he was doing.

 He licked his lips and breathed out an appreciative sigh at the sight, squeezing your throat again.

 “Listen to Daddy, kitten,” he repeated, all no nonsense because apparently the game had begun again and hooray for you because you were absolutely about to win. “Because that wasn’t a request. Now, what do we say?” he asked and then dipped his fingers low and inside you, making the words you’d managed to get out break in the middle.

 “Yes! Y-es, Daddy!” you choked out, eyes watering as he fucked you with his fingers. God, the stretch was fantastic. He didn’t hold back either, keeping an almost punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air.

 He curled them ever so slightly and you shuddered, hips jerking upwards in a desperate attempt to either get closer or relieve the pressure. You had no idea which because his hand was choking you tightly enough that the only real thoughts in your head were badly strung together swear words.

 “That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed, pleased and for the second time today, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at you. Even though most thoughts were being railed out of your head at an amazing speed, you did manage to notice that he was beginning to look a little desperate himself- despite the cool, calm demeanour he was presenting.

 You clenched your muscles around his fingers experimentally and sure enough, his jaw tightened- smile gone and his eyes predatory.

 “Since we’re in public, there isn’t enough time to do all the things I want to do to you… But we can make do, sweetheart, can’t we?” he asked and you nodded. You didn’t care what kind of marathon you were signing up to later as long as he kept going right now and did. Not. Stop.

 Then his fingers were gone and the fat head of his cock was parting your pussy, bearing down to push inside you. You arched you back as you cried out and Toshi shushed you sweetly, although he kept the grip on your neck firm so that you wouldn’t move around too much.

 Knowing that these hands could hit hard enough to level a city block only served to make you wetter than you already were and the pressure of his cock pushing into you was leaving you breathless. You made another pathetic noise- still stretching around him as he pressed on further.

 “Colour, kitten?” he asked suddenly, eyeing your absolutely wrecked expression.

 “Green! Green, baby please!” you bucked, trying to take him in faster. Toshinori snorted and held you firmly- despite your protest and plea for him to hurry things along. You might be well practiced in taking his cock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require a good amount of preparation and it wasn’t something he was willing to just rush.

 He didn’t care if someone walked in and you had to stop altogether. He refused to let you get hurt just because you were both too eager to do this safely.

 On the other hand, you were holding onto his wrist for dear life with both hands, your fingers digging in and urging him to go faster.

 Splaying his free hand wide across your belly, Toshi held you still and with a short sharp thrust he finally felt the head of his cock push inside you. You made a noise of extreme satisfaction and now it was just a matter of slowly inching himself in bit by bit. He did so, as slowly as he could stand until he felt like you were at your limit.

 You were shaking, because if he didn’t move in the next three seconds you were going to move for him. Fuck the game at this point, he was teasing you to the point of absolute madness-

 Toshi watched your face as he pulled out and thrust back in, easy and slow to begin with. Your reaction was instantaneous.

 You cried out, hips rolling and one hand sliding up along his arm to grip what you could of his bicep. He smirked and did it again, loving the way your head pressed back against the wood and how fucking amazing his hand looked around your throat.

 You were on a whole other goddamn planet right now.

 Breathing was getting slightly difficult but not impossible and if you tapped his arm twice he would know to lighten up. You weren’t at your limit yet though and so you simply touched him where you could reach, needing the heat of his skin beneath your palms.

 His hand tightened again as he groaned, loudly and sinfully- like this was the most religious experience he’d ever had. Your vision blurred for a moment and the pressure in your stomach was twisting, winding tighter and tighter until it was dangerously close to snapping.

 Your whole body was lighting up, nerve endings firing and Toshi was now picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was still keeping them steady but his tempo increased, and the slick warmth between your legs was making your head spin. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen-

 Fuck, you needed to breathe.

 You tapped his arm twice and his grip immediately lessened, eyes flashing towards your face in concern. But as you’d agreed on, he didn’t stop fucking you or remove his hand from your neck. That would have been three taps- and you were nowhere near fucked out enough for that yet.

 You sucked in a full breath, glad for the oxygen.

 “Okay baby?” he asked, leaning over you to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, finding the perfect opportunity to thread your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Such were the perks of having an absurdly tall boyfriend. He could comfortably fuck you and lean over to kiss you at the same time.

 He sighed into the kiss, hips snapping forward and you bit down on his bottom lip- before sucking it lightly. Toshi made a noise of pleasure but it was drowned out by your keening cry when he reached down to rub at your clit again.

 “Tighter again?” he asked after a moment of letting you catch your breath and you nodded eagerly, mouth falling open as he applied the pressure in increments. Bit by bit he strengthened his grip and you watched, fascinated as the muscles in his arm flexed while he did.

 He stopped moments before it became too much. The whole time he’d been carefully and precisely finding the sweet spot around your throat, he’d been keeping a steady pace between your thighs. He wasn’t bottoming out- having not really had the time or space to really prepare you for that absolutely magnum task.

 So you both settled for shallower thrusts, keeping the pace quick as you raced to the edge.

 Toshi was panting against your shoulder and your inner muscles were fluttering around him, almost there. So close it was killing you. If he slowed down right now, you were going to kill him. Thankfully, he seemed to be all out of fucks to give and he smirked when your nails dug into his wrist, baring his teeth and sinking them into your shoulder.

 You bucked almost painfully hard, a choked, cut off cry of his name leaving your lips. He let go, laving the bite with his tongue thoughtfully, soothing the sting. The thumb of the hand that was around your throat was rubbing up and down your jawline, gently reminding you not to get too carried away.

 But you were so close to coming right now that your attention was elsewhere- chasing the pleasure he was giving you with a one track mind. His whole upper body was covering yours now and the hand you had buried in his hair trailed down so you could hook your arm around his back.

 Palm flat, you took a second to appreciate the roll of his muscles under his shirt.

 He nuzzled you, forehead pressing against the side of your head and his mouth close to your ear so you could hear every shaky, barely held together inhale and exhale.

 “So good, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl,” he said and you squeezed your knees into his sides to let him know that you appreciated his praise. A lot. If there was one way to get you to do anything it was to call you a good girl and Toshinori knew and exploited that fact all the damn time. “You want to come? Yeah?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the absolute state of you underneath him.

 He squeezed when you didn’t answer and you managed a pathetic-

 “Yes please Daddy.”

 -that was hoarse and pleading and fuck, please, please, please was all you could think. You needed to come. You had needed it all fucking week and that picture that he’d sent you had nearly stopped your heart on the spot. It was all you’d thought about for hours at a time.

 He was all you’d thought about.

 “I’m close too, kitten,” he huffed out, raising himself up on one forearm so he loomed over you again. “Tighter?” he asked again and you nodded as best you could, feeling his hips pick up speed even more. This was it. He choked you as tight as you could handle without tapping out and thrust forward at such an angle that he managed to brush against your clit at long last.

 The result was instantaneous.

 Your orgasm whited you out. It spread from your fingers to your toes and hit every nerve with a fucking baseball bat on the way down. If no-one knew what was going on in here before then they would definitely know now- considering you had just screamed Toshinori’s name loud enough to be heard across town.

 Between your garbled sobs and pleading and moans of his name mixed with obscenities, Toshi was barely holding on to himself. The strong contraction of your muscles around his cock was suddenly too much and he lost the battle to see you through to the end of your orgasm.

 He groaned, long and low when his balls tightened and he came- panting your name as his hips jerked repeatedly. You could feel the tremble in his muscles between your legs and the sweet, fulfilling sensation of him filling you up.

 He wasn’t as deep as he would normally be though and the result was a mess, your mixed come dripping out around his cock and down your ass- pooling on the table below.

 His forehead dropped to the wood beside you as you both slumped at the same time, utterly exhausted.

 “How are you holding up princess? You alright?” he asked after a long moment of simply breathing in time to yours- noticing the way your eyes were shut and your breathing was still hard.

 Opening your eyes at last, you smoothed your hand across the broad plane of his back, scratching your nails in a soft line between his shoulder blades. His whole body trembled again- both from little aftershocks and the fact that he was nearing his limit on holding this form.

 “Alright?” you snorted. “Alright? Are you kidding me, Toshinori? I’m pretty sure that I’m not walking out of here. At least… not in a straight line.”

 Your laughter was infectious and he joined in, the pair of you giggling like teenagers, exhausted and spent and covered in various fluids. You would have been content to lay there like that with him at home, keeping him inside you while you played with his hair and gave him massive heart eyes. But it was quickly dawning on the both of you that hanging around in the open like this any longer was definitely going to get you caught.

 Toshi groaned when he pulled out of you and stood up straight, rubbing his back. He grumbled something under his breath about ‘getting old’ and you managed to lift your head to look at him- incredulous.

 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure old guys don’t fuck like you do baby,” you informed him smugly, absolutely loving the way his cheeks flushed as though he hadn’t been choking you and calling himself ‘daddy’ not five minutes before. This man was a study in fucking opposites sometimes and it only endeared him to you even more.

 He groaned when he twisted from side to side and you took pity on him, despite not being able to move much yourself.

 “Babe, why don’t you just change back now? You have to be exhausted.”

 He shot you a grateful look and then did just that- a blast of air and smoke and there he was in all of his skinny glory- dwarfed in a suit that was now ten times too big for him. Considering that his pants were still splayed open at the top, gravity dictated that they almost immediately fall down to his ankles.

 “Damn,” he huffed and glared down at them, unamused at both that and your resulting laughter.

 “There’s no way I can bend down for those,” he said, face absolutely deadpan and despite the ache in your whole damn body, you were wracked with giggles as he stared forlornly at his pants. He glanced over at you, content to lay there for a moment longer while he worked out his dilemma. “Little help?”

 “Oh, Daddy, there’s no hope of that. My legs are done. Anyone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t give a shit,” you explained, raising the only part of you that wasn’t all fucked out. You lifted your head and grinned at him- his expression amused and exasperated in equal measure. “Besides, I need to get my breath back.”

 He laughed, short and sharp and finally found the energy to bend at the waist and pull his pants up. He had to tighten the belt as much as he possibly could to make them stay put, but eventually they complied and he wandered over to you- holding your panties and jeans in one hand.

 He dangled them over your head and you managed a lazy grab, giggling again as he pulled them out of your reach.

 Then his eyes flickered down to your throat and he frowned suddenly, reaching out to rub gently over the redness he’d left behind. You were still quite content to sag back against the desk, knowing that when you moved at last it would mean cleaning up the mess you had both made of the hall.

 “Are you sure you’re okay? I know you like being choked sweetheart but I’m always worried that I overdo it,” he said, concerned as he always was after a particularly intense session. Your expression softened at the way he worried, feeling a wave of affection for him.

 You really wouldn’t have him any other way. No one worried about you like he did.

 You caught his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to kiss his palm.

 “I loved it and I love you and I had a great time.”

 His expression changed in an instant, a winning smile gracing his skinny features and you returned it without even thinking.

 “Love you too sweetheart,” he responded softly and you gave his hand one last kiss before finally summoning the energy to stand at long last. Using the desk behind you for support, you tiredly shimmied back into your pants while your boyfriend went about gathering the papers that had been strewn around the floor.

 It was only when you glanced at him after a moment, did it dawn on you what he was holding. What you’d almost been fucked on top of.

 The exam papers.

 The now messy, out of order, exam papers.

 Hell Week had struck again and when Toshinori caught your eye, he immediately paused in what he was doing to look down at the papers in his hand too.

 “Oh,” he said after a long, long moment of staring at them blankly. “Well fuck.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG