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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

American Boy

Bucky x Reader

Request: So basically buckyxreader where she is a super successful businesswomen and awfully confident but when she’s with bucky she feels insecure as many women want him and she’s insecure of nat. Based on “American Boy” by little mix where bucky is her american boy and the other girl in the song is nat. So like angst with a happy ending (maybe smut if you’re comfortable idk idk).

Words: ~ 9,700

Summary: Dating Bucky can be challenging sometimes -- all the time.

Warnings: Smut, angst

A/N: Sorry this took me so long :( I recently started work so its been hard to write -- but I’m really happy with how this one turned out!! Thank you so much for the request!

And I met him back when I was out in California He was playing in a band and she was dancing on a stage And he says that I'm the one but she's the one that got away And he never knew her real name

Nothing about tonight sounded mildly comfortable. It was going to be six hours in a too cold banquette hall, standing all night in too tall heels, a too tight dress, with your hair scraped back into a too painful bun. From the moment you stepped inside, the flesh on your arms and décolleté erupting into goosebumps – nothing a little alcohol can’t fix, you thought to yourself, snagging a glass of champagne off of the tray from the first waiter you saw.

“Y/N,” Tony called, opening his arms to greet you. His suit was perfectly pressed, a three-piece suit that cost more than twice your monthly rent. You walked up to him, giving him a side hug, checking yourself out in the reflection of his iconic red glasses. “See, I knew you’d come.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, remembering how for the past week you’d declined his numerous invitations to his party. “I hope you know that I’m charging you overtime for this.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” He ushers you away while he continues mingling with his other guests.

Never in a million years had you thought you’d be an A-list guest at one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties. But, as fate would have it, you and Tony had been working together quite a bit in the recent years. What began as a little start-up from your college dorm room, quickly grew into a multinational billion-dollar company. Stark industries contracted your company out to spearhead multiple new projects – including the development of high-tech equipment for the Avengers. You had many ventures, sectors growing from technological advancement, to biometrics, to teams specializing in law, advertising, and operations.

The past few years had been a whirlwind for you. Moving to New York, managing your ever-growing company – up until now your life had been all work and no play. Once you met Tony, you knew that your world would flip upside down. You’d been in Forbes 30-Under-30 list for three years straight. Your life had grown into nothing but interviews, business deals, and fame – and you loved it. You felt like you were on top of the world at this moment in your life; nothing was going to stop your forward momentum from climbing up the ladder.

“Hey,” a smooth voice pulled you out of your fog, a figure popping up next to you.

“Hey, Steve,” you responded, smiling up at the blond man.

“You having a good night?” You’d met Steve a handful of times before through Tony, working with him a few times in the past. You don’t know if you could outright call him your close friend, but Steve was always so kind.

You could should be using tonight as a networking opportunity, but after an extremely stressful week at work, all you wanted to do was crawl into a bubble bath and relax. You couldn’t do that, so you thought you’d at least try to let loose and take it easy tonight, hoping to catch up with friends and enjoy some time partying. “I guess,” you shrugged, taking another sip of champagne.

“That makes two of us,” he replied, taking an equally long sip of his drink. “It’s hard to lay low at Tony’s parties, y’know?”

“Its hard to lay low when you’re Captain America,” you joked, nudging his arm with your elbow. He rolled his eyes again, running a hand through his short blond hair.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, trying to find something worthwhile to talk to Steve about: maybe about the couples dancing in the center of the room, the large crowd gathered at the bar, the performers that laced their way through the influx of people. Your gaze fell upon a smaller group of people gathered around a table, laughing, telling stories and interrupting each other with more tall tales. You only recognized a couple people in the group; Sam Wilson: tall, well-built, perhaps a little tipsy, chirping away with his witty comments; Natasha Romanoff: a goddess, quiet, watching, observing, black dress so tight on her beautiful figure it looked like it was painted on; Bucky Barnes: the epitome of tall dark and handsome, at the forefront of the conversation, laughing and cussing telling his sensational war story, dark tendrils of hair hanging loosely in front of his face, obstructing the view of his blue eyes.

“Have you met Bucky?” Steve asked, interrupting your thoughts. You shook your head ‘no,’ unable to tear your eyes away from him. His black suit was complemented quite nicely with a fitted black shirt, the top buttons undone, his tanned muscle peaking out. He ran his metallic hand through his long hair – you finally were able to see his eyes, the only color on him, so bright compared to their dark surroundings. And they were looking at you.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you turned your head up to Steve. He was watching Bucky, watching him looking at you; Steve’s head turned between the two of you, almost unable to stop the smile from pulling at his lips. Steve pulled you into the group, making space for you to stand between him and Bucky. As introductions were passed around the group, you felt eyes on you. This time, the set of green eyes.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Natasha give you the up and down a few times. Your first reaction was that it wasn’t in a bad or necessarily judgmental way; she was interested in who the outsider was. She was protective, it was instinctual; she would observe said outsider, finding all of her flaws, quirks, secrets, until she was certain she wasn’t a threat. When you were introduced to her, she politely flashed you a smile with her infamous painted red lips and shook your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Bucky,” Steve finished, watching eagerly as the two of you shook hands and exchanged smiles.

“(Y/N),” Bucky whispered, your name tasting sweet on his lips; he tipped his head ever so slightly towards you in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

Everybody took the hint – that hint being Steve wiggling his eyebrows at everyone – and the group dispersed. You waved goodbye to the like, politely offering goodbyes to everyone. In your peripheral vison, you watched as the red head gave you one final up-and-down, crossing her arms over her busty chest, flitting her eyes to Bucky’s before she strutted off.

…

You hit it off with Bucky instantly, spending the night discussing everything from your future prospects to your relationship status to your past (specifically, your past). He was completely enamored by you. He was obsessed with the fact that people looked up to you; you demanded respect – so much so, in fact, that your success intimidated them; you were unapproachable to those who didn’t have their shit together. After that night, he knew he had to see you again.

And you could not feel more the same way.

It started fairly privately. Despite your constant media attention – being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company had that effect – being Tony Stark’s business partner escalated that. Usually on your commute to and from work, whether that be your corporate office or the Avenger’s tower, there would be a few paparazzi and a couple reporters following you around. They wanted information on you, your ventures, but most importantly: Tony Stark. When you were contracted to work with Stark Industries, you knew this was a possibility – in fact, it was the number one con on your pros & cons list. While you did think it was a decent opportunity for exposure, it surely came back to bite you in the ass.

You didn’t anticipate meeting Bucky Barnes – you surely didn’t anticipate dating him, either. You couldn’t be happier with Bucky; you wouldn’t let the incessant paparazzi and media attention get to you. Surely, you’d figured that dating an actual Avenger would draw some attention to yourself. However, you couldn’t have predicted the magnitude it would have on your daily life. The amount cameramen and reporters that followed you on a daily basis more than doubled.

Now, you’d never considered yourself shy, especially not camera shy – hell, all you were doing was walking from your car to and from different buildings – you could surely handle getting your picture taken. You had to admit, you were put together (and damn hot). You wore tailored suits, the tall heels; your hair and makeup were done perfectly every day.

It’s not like you hadn’t been on the cover of magazines before; but they were articles, studies, biographies. You posed for the cover of Forbes and Wall Street Journal and Harvard Business Review. Gracing the cover of tabloid magazines, however, was new territory for you. They talked about your style, your makeup, you clothes, your hair – nothing was too surface level for them to delve into. At first, that’s all it was. Noting and pricing your style, People magazine printing a “Who is She?” issue.

Then the comparisons started.

It was a side-by-side of you and Natasha – Black Widow. How could you compete with her?

You were sitting in bed one morning, up early before dawn, checking your phone before you started your morning routine. It was supposed to be like any other Thursday: work, meetings, executive board reviews: productive. But after reading that article, your heart deflated; today would only truly be over once you get to crawl back into your bed at the end of the day and sulk under the covers.

You slowly let out a long breath as you scrolled quickly through the article. “(Y/N) Becomes Black Widow’s Replacement: Is She Good Enough or Will She Get Tangled in the Web?” leave it to Daily Mail to start off with a shitty pun to ruin your mood.

The first picture was a full body shot of you laid next to a similar image of Natasha. She was shorter, sure – but curvier. She had more muscle, obviously – and those legs. Even you wanted to be strangled to death by her thighs. (And you felt like dying at that moment, that’s for sure). Maybe she just wore tighter clothes? You did, in fact, wear well-tailored clothes – you were actually very fashion forward for the business world, taking Fall 2020 by storm. She just got the chance to wear tighter clothes more often.

The second photo was an extremely flattering behind shot. The photographer might as well have taken the camera and pointed it right up your skirt. You’d heard the tabloids comparing the asses of other famous women, surely even the English Royalty had headlines circulating about it. You actually thought you had a good ass – you do – but hers was better. Black fucking Widow and you were supposed to somehow compete?

The last shot was a close up of your faces. You had to admit, they probably could’ve picked a worse picture of you. You weren’t smiling, you weren’t frowning – it was neutral. Your brows maybe slightly narrowed. Natasha, on the other hand, was glaring at the paparazzi. They gave her space, as if they took one step too close, she would murder them (and although she was actually extremely kind to you, they were probably right in that case). Her glare exuded confidence, intimidation. That was the difference between your auras: while your success may have been intimidating to others, it was her essential being that was intimidating – she could kill you just by looking at you.

While some people may not appreciate that fact, the pure daunting atmosphere that surrounded her, there was one person that did: James Buchanan Barnes.

He, himself, had the same ambiance, after all: that is being the don’t fuck with me stare.

Oh, and I don't mean to get so caught up And insecure 'bout all the things you say Oh, and I don't mean to be jealous, it's just careless me Boy, I must drive you mad

“Hey, Bucky,” you greeted, swinging open your front door, pressing a chaste kiss to the lips of the man before you.

He hummed against your lips, caught off guard as you pulled away sooner than expected. “Hey, baby,” he responded, shrugging it off stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “It smells great,” he noted regarding the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. He dipped a metallic pinky finger in the sauce, cheekily smiling at you as he licked his makeshift tasting-spoon. “Tastes great – no surprise.”

You couldn’t help but return his smile, trying to shake off the bad day you’d had, instead turning all focus to your giggle boyfriend before you. He takes two steps forward, engulfing you in his strong arms, rubbing his flesh hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. You rested your cheek against his chest, taking a deep breath in; his earthy scent calmed you down, the heat radiating off of him offering you to a level of relaxation you didn’t know was possible. “Did you have a bad day, baby?” He cooed quietly, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding into his chest. “Bad. And busy. And annoying.”

“Annoying?” He repeated, testing the word on his tongue, but not questioning further. “Come on, why don’t we eat because I’m hungry – and I know you’re hungry – and get you to relax.” You smile up at him, giving him a proper kiss this time, unsure if he was just saying that to get dinner going, or if his supersoldier senses could actually tell that you were hungry (because you were).

Dinner went smoothly. It was quiet, moreso than usual. But it was nice. It was calm: a good change of pace from both of your busy schedules. It was tranquil: spending the evening exchanging loving glances and touches across the table, playing footstie under the table, Bucky quite literally licking pasta sauce off your cheek.

As he finished up his third serving (to which you just sip your wine while he gets his fill), you can’t help but break the silence and light conversation with a loaded question: “What’s with you and Natasha?”

You didn’t mean for the question to come out so abrupt or harsh, but it had been eating at your mind all day. You’d found yourself looking at that article during every five-minute break you got. Comparing hair, clothes, smiles, eyes, teeth – everything.

“What’s with us?” He repeated, eyebrows cocked in misunderstanding, palms raised in confusion. He didn’t understand the question.

You sighed heavily, dropping your eyes to the near empty wine glass before you. “I don’t know,” you grumbled, running your hands over your forehead, dropping them behind your head, pulling your hair a bit. “I’ve been seeing these articles about her – about her and me,” you clarified, trailing off, hoping he’d understand the picture. As he remained silent, you sat back against your chair, slouching. “Did you guys date or something?” You immediately bit the inside of your cheek. The question burned coming off your tongue.

His chuckle almost startled you out of your fog; your stomach dropped as you felt knots pull at all your insides. “Babe.” He reaches across the table with open palms, waiting for you to place your hands in his. You hesitated, but eventually complied, his soft smile and kind eyes giving you no other choice. “No. We never had – or did – anything. Never. I promise.”

Okay, well that made you feel better. You let out a breathy sigh (this time of relief) as you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay,” you repeated. “Okay.” It made you feel a little better, sure, but then why?

He raised his eyebrows once again. “You don’t believe me?”

“No – no, no, no – ” you replied quickly, reaching farther across the table, fingertips grazing his forearms. “I’m just confused. I keep seeing articles comparing me and her,” you stated very slowly, unsure of the right words, unsure of what his innate reaction would be.

“We have a… past,” he responded, slowly; it was calculated.

But in that moment, he knew he miscalculated. “A past?”

No, not like that, he thought. But like what, exactly? How was he supposed to explain it? God, his own life was complicated enough to explain – he hadn’t dared to divulge that deep, in fear of ruining your newly blossoming relationship. He owed you some sort of explanation, though, right? But he was at a loss for words at the worst time possible. “It just goes back to… a long time ago… with… well… ” With no words left to complete his fragment of a sentence, he raised his left hand and wiggled his metallic fingers.

Your lips formed an “oh” shape as you said the same word mentally. Oh, no shit, more like. The Russian spy and the Winter Soldier had intertwined pasts. You felt like an idiot – like the answer was laying right there before you, your eyes glazing right over it. “Bucky, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry but – ”

He cut you off immediately, taking one of your hands into both of his. He looked you straight in the eyes, his own blue irises staring deep into yours. “Don’t apologize, please.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want that part of my life taking over my life now. You’re not prying – I need to be open with you about it.” You nodded slowly. “I want you to be apart of my life, (Y/N),” he clarified, nearly smiling at you missing the implication of his previous sentence.

You grinned, a goofy wine-infused smile. You leaned across the table, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

That night, he began telling you about his past; nothing he wasn’t comfortable with discussing was mentioned. You didn’t push him, didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer opinion or advice. The only thing you offered was solace, comfort, and hot tea. You held him in bed, ran your fingers through his hair, rubbed small circles on his muscled back.

He told you about how he trained her, how their connected past drew scrutiny to them in the media. How their ties to Russia, Hydra, and a few not-so politically correct incidents in the past tied them closer together both in eyes of the tabloids and, subsequently, to each other.

You had no questions, no comments. There was nothing for you to say. You weren’t questioning the validity of his past and you didn’t question the fact that he and Natasha were just friends. You were confident in Bucky, confident that he was telling the truth – confident in your relationship.

The two of you fell asleep that night wiping tears off each other’s cheeks; but neither of you had felt more safe – more in love – than at that moment in your lives.

…

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing down at you – at your figure.

You were turned away from him, trying to busy yourself, acting as though bringing it up again was casual, like it was just a normal question on par with how was your day? It, in fact, was extremely loaded; there couldn’t be more of a loaded question, in Bucky’s opinion (in your own opinion, too). But, dammit, you needed validation – wasn’t that okay?

It was okay.

It was always okay. Bucky understood that. Even he, himself, needed validation in a similar way. However, there were two distinct differences about what he needed vs. what you needed.

1. He never needed validation against someone else.

Bucky was insecure – the fact of the matter was every single person in the world had insecurities, from the brightest minds to the most beautiful models; there isn’t a single person who isn’t immune to outside pressure, societal expectations, internal comparisons. Sometimes Bucky would be insecure of his arm, oftentimes he’d be insecure about his past. He’d wonder about his hair, he’d read articles about himself, comments people posted online. Bucky had a certain confidence about himself, sure. He was intimidating (that was both a good and a bad thing).

But you. You were intimidating, too – you were, in Bucky’s eyes – the baddest bitch; you controlled the business world, dominate magazine headlines, demanded the attention of every man in the room. He loved it. He loved the fact that you were all that and more, and that he got to come home to you. He got to hold you in his arms at night. He got to make love to you.

That’s why he didn’t understand your – what he determined to be – obsession with her. All the time asking him about her. Were you as good as her? Were you better than her? He understood, at first. Natasha was very intimidating – to anyone, even her own team. He didn’t mind showing you extra attention, sprinkling you with more compliments, lovingly laying his hands on the places you didn’t like about yourself. He loved you; he loved complimenting you. Nothing he ever said was a lie, so he had no problem saying them.

But as time went on, you kept asking. About. Her.

2. He believed you when you validated him.

Not only were you asking about Natasha, constantly comparing yourself to her – your body, your brains, your face, even your hair. Again, he had no problem telling you how beautiful you were; it was a service to you that he would trade anything in the world for. He loved to say that to you; complimenting your intelligence, looks, attitude – all of it.

Maybe he wasn’t complimenting you enough anymore? Even so, you had to know the way he felt about you? He tried really hard to validate it as his own fault. Like it was something he had done to cause you to suddenly be so insecure. But all it took was one walk down the bustling street-stands on the New York City’s streets for him to realize. You, after all, had graced the cover of every magazine as of lately. You and Natasha.

He wasn’t so hard on you or himself after that little piece clicked in his head.

But at the end of the day, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if you never believed him. Did you trust him? Did you love him? Those questions ran through his head at night – as much as he hated it, he couldn’t stop it.

“It’s not how many times, Bucky! It’s – it’s – ” You tripped over your own words.

“What is it, then, (Y/N)? Because I sure as hell can’t figure it out.” In fact, you didn’t know what it was. You couldn’t pinpoint it. You couldn’t put the words together.

You turned around, crossing your arms across your chest, mirroring him. You just stared back it him, biting your lip. There wasn’t anything you could say; just offered him a shrug.

“(Y/N), come on,” he began. “You can’t seriously believe the shit they say.” He was referring to the incessant media coverage. The eyes on you – 24/7 cameras. It eats away at you; it was all you could think about. “You’re too smart for them. What’s this all about, then?”

If there was anyone who could see right through you, it was him. But if there was one thing he needed to know about you, it was that you had too much pride to admit any sort of insecurity to anyone – even your boyfriend of now eight months.

It was in that moment that you wondered if he took a short tone with her the way he had been with you lately. Did she have to ask him such endless questions? Definitely not. She had nothing to worry about. She didn’t care.

That was the difference between the two of you.

You couldn’t do anything but care.

Singing, singing, singing Ooh la la, he breaks my heart I know he thinks about her when he plays guitar And ooh la la, my American boy

You and Bucky sat on the couch, the movie playing in front you now long forgotten. The past few weeks have been stressful for the both of you. You were both dealing with a lot at work; you with new projects and development issues, Bucky with compiling intel that seemly led nowhere. Last night, you’d attended another one of Tony’s parties with Bucky. You thought it was going to be a fun night, seeing all your old friends, catching up with everyone you hadn’t seen in so long. What was supposed to be a casual night of fun drinking and dancing, turned sour very quickly.

It was nice in the beginning, catching up with Sam and Steve; that is, until you caught a glimpse of Bucky from the corner of your eye. He was just meant to get a refill of drinks. All he had to do was weave through the crowd, make it to the bar, and return with the drinks. You felt that it shouldn’t have taken him that long. Maybe you should’ve offered to get them instead.

There he stood, leaning against the bar, a handful of cold drinks sitting in front of him on the tabletop. You watched as he ignored the cups the bartender placed down in front of him a few minutes ago; watched as a drop of precipitation slid down the side of the cold glass, pooling with all the others at the granite bar top.

Beside him, a tall blonde mimicked his movements, leaning against the counter. She spoke to him in a hushed tone, gazing up at him under her long eyelashes. Her perfectly manicured hands grazed up and down his arm, undoubtedly innocently asking about the strong metal underneath his shirt sleeve. You rolled your eyes, nearly scoffing at her fairly blatant attempt at flirting.

You wouldn’t be so pissed off, usually. She was beautiful, sure, but you were confident in your relationship with Bucky. You knew how he felt about you and he knew how strong your feelings were for him. There was no doubt on either end – so why shouldn’t he be able to have a conversation with some woman at a party? He had just grown comfortable enough to talk about his metal arm, finally accepting the gift that the great King T’Challa had gifted him.

So why did this interaction piss you off so much?

Because you knew that if a man had come up to you to chat so innocently with you, he’d be on him in less than one second. And if a man had come up to you to chat while also running his hand up your arm or down your back, Bucky would ensure that man would be leaving this party with nothing but then broken fingers.

But your pride took the best of you, as usual. You rolled your eyes to yourself, carrying on your conversation with Sam and Steve, trying your best not to look over Sam’s shoulder too much, staring past him and at Bucky. You held your empty cup in your hand, almost now more pissed that your new drink was sitting lonely at the bar, when you needed alcohol more than ever in this moment.

All you wanted was to go up there, rip her hand off your boyfriend, and get your damn drink. Instead, you held your tongue all night. When Bucky returned with your drink, you thanked him and took it, gulping it down fairly quickly. When his hand rested on your waist, you simply gave yourself a twist, shrugging his hand off of you. You felt him give you a questioning look, but you simply pretended not to notice, instead keeping your eyes locked on Sam’s as he told his story about what ever he was talking about (you weren’t really paying attention); just smiling and nodding and looking as engaged as possible.

When you and Bucky got home that night, you quickly showered and crawled into bed. Bucky had been trying to talk to you on the car ride home, all night while you got ready for bed. Finally giving you your peace to shower, he decided to try again once he slipped into bed beside him. “What’s going on, (Y/N),” he whispered, turning towards you; but he was met with the sight of your back turned to him.

“Nothing,” you replied, face smooshed int the pillow. “’M just tired.”

His hand found your side, rubbing over your hip bone slightly, as he moved closer to you in bed. His chest pressed up against your back, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Is that all, baby?” He kept pressing. “Let me make you feel better,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your neck, burying his face in your shoulder.

“No, Buck, stop.” You shrugged him off and lifted your shoulders in protest, pushing his head away. “I’m not in the mood – I just want to go to sleep.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” he whispered, settling back down in the bed.

You tried to fall asleep that night, you really were tired – exhausted, in fact. But you just couldn’t calm your racing mind enough to fall asleep. You knew Bucky knew it, too. You suspected that he didn’t get much sleep either.

When you finally did get a few hours of rest, you woke up to a note left by Bucky.

Went for an early workout with Steve. Feel better, I’ll call you later.

You gave yourself a whole self-care day. Bath, face mask, manicure – the whole nine yards. You willed yourself to think of anything except Bucky and that girl – Bucky and any girl.

Every girl in the world had eyes for Bucky – why wouldn’t they? He’s absolutely gorgeous: tall, handsome, he’s got the mysterious vibe going on – basically every woman’s walking wet dream. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt when it came to women flirting with him. He was from a different time; he was just being polite. That’s what you told yourself, at least. The more Steve told you stories about him being a charmer – how he always “wooed” women back in the day – the more unsettled you became. Maybe he missed being a flirt, afterall, as he recovered, he slipped back into his old ways, whether that be an old Brooklyn accent, or his charming smile.

But how many times could you just brush it off? Blatantly flirting in front of you – sure it may have been an innocent conversation or an innocent arm touch (you know that’s how he would sell it to you) but hell, he lived in a different time now. So, he just had to get used to the fact that he had to stop letting these girls flirt with him. Was it really so hard to tell them he had a girlfriend?

Unless he thought about it and didn’t want to. He was so touch starved for the past seventy-plus years that who knows? Maybe he did enjoy all the attention – especially all the female attention. Considering the fact he was such a ladies man, maybe this is exactly what he wanted to feel like himself again, winning over all the women. And, god, all the tall women with their perfect faces and gorgeous chests, showing off more skin than they covered. They had the confidence of models, the ferociousness of catwoman – not to mention Black Widow; she was her own breed of gold-like-women.

He didn’t call you until the next day.

That’s how you ended up on your sofa, innocently watching a movie, two boxes of pizza abandoned on your coffee table. Neither of you brought up the night of Tony’s party; instead, you two sought solace in each other’s arms on the plush couch between piles of pillows.

You two ended up making out, his hands wrapping around your waist and up your back, yours winding their way through locks of his long hair. He leaned over you, your back meeting the sofa top and his chest pressing to yours. His pelvis touched yours, grinding lazily against yours. A mess of legs entangled with each other at the opposite end of the couch. His hand slid down your side, squeezing between your bodies to unbutton your jeans, his fingers slipping underneath your panties.

He groaned once his finger slipped between your slit, moaning at the wetness he found there. He pulled his hands up and shimmied your pants off, his own jeans following suit. He didn’t bother even taking them off all the way, instead latching himself on you with his pants and underwear pooling at his ankles.

His hands grabbed your hips, roughly pushing into you while his lips attached themselves to your neck. You gasped, the sudden entry startling to you. Your arms encased his torso, nails digging into his back as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You hips met his as you tried to rock against him to meet his thrusts. His hands pinned your hips down, jackhammering you into the couch.

You were panting and moaning and screaming. You couldn’t help the noises that were coming out of your mouth. You and Bucky had tried some pretty not-vanilla stuff in the past, and sure, sex was maybe one of the best ways to get your anger out. But Bucky hadn’t ever been this nonattentive to you before. Or this quiet. Usually you couldn’t get him to shut up – between the dirty talk and the praise, you could never get him to shut up; and he loved it. He knew his whispers and all his egging-you on only flustered you more. That was the sex you loved.

This was different. He didn’t say anything; he just grunting to himself as he pounded into you, hips snapping into yours. God, you were going to be bruised tomorrow just from how hard he was holding you down. He wasn’t attentive, nor perceptive to you. He didn’t kiss you, just barred his teeth through heavy breaths.

This must have been all related to the night at Tony’s party. He was probably angry with you after that night – not talking to him at all. Not to mention you didn’t say anything when he clearly knew something was up with you; you definitely owed him an explanation. You couldn’t blame him or being angry. You weren’t so sure this was his best reaction. He was so dangerously quiet.

That’s when you threw your head back against the pillows, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut. Was he just fucking you to fuck you? He came quickly and without warning, spilling into you with nothing but another grunt.

He dropped on top of you, pelvis to pelvis, his cock still inside your warm cunt. He dropped his head to your chest, you shirt still left on from earlier. He shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. Your fingers found his hair, stroking his chestnut strands as he fell asleep on top of you.

Maybe he was just tired from waking up early? He probably needed to get his aggressions from the day out – not to mention the frustration from you basically ignoring him all day and night. There was a feeling in the back of your head, though, that this sudden change of pace may have been brought on by something else. His eyes were shut the whole time – hell, maybe he was thinking about that blonde girl from the party.

You said it to yourself as a joke – it was a fleeting thought. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it after that. Was he picturing someone else? He wasn’t turned on by you – you didn’t even get a chance to do anything sexy before he was fucking you with your clothes on. He’d probably rather be sleeping with someone else. Someone who made porn star noises and pulled his hair harder and –

God, you were tired of thinking like this.

So I wanna know who's on your phone Making me paranoid, making me bad Making me sad, making me crazy Making me feel like I needed to ask I wanna know if you're at home And if you're at home, baby, are you alone? Are you alone? Answer your phone Oh, baby, no no no

Things went back to normal after that. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him – and you – that day, but it was nothing but a distant memory. You were dating for about a year and a half. From that point, you two had kept everything very lowkey. Extravagant parties were few and far between, dates became even more private – no distractions, nothing to get between the two of you.

“Baby, I’m home,” you called, throwing your purse and keys on the kitchen table. You were hit with the faint smell of dinner, but as you checked the stovetop and oven, you were met with nothing – just the leftovers already cold in the fridge. You worked late tonight – tonight and every other night for the past three weeks. It was only nine, which wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to wake up at five tomorrow to get into the office early. Your team was being met with a deadline soon, there were a lot of extra hours being put in to get the project done. You weren’t one to complain because you were the boss. You weren’t going at this alone, you had everyone else working with you helping out. But it was your job to make sure everything got done, and that included being the first one in and the last one out.

Bucky said it never bothered him. He’d go on missions for days – sometimes weeks – at a time. He encouraged you to work hard, he loved your drive and commitment to your company. He motivated you; he knew you had drive and could get things done. He loved being able to support you, too. When Steve first introduced the idea of dating to him, he wasn’t sure he wanted someone who was only obsessed with him: who got their own recognition just by being his girlfriend. He was lucky enough to be your boyfriend.

You took the Tupper wear from the fridge, popping it in the microwave and waiting for your food. You noticed Bucky on the sofa. Kicking your heels off you made your way to the living room, calling out to him again. He sat up, his face donning a large grin as he waved to you, quickly pointing to the cell phone propped up against his ear. You gave him a shy wave back, turning back to the microwave, soon to be beeping with your meal. You ate dinner alone at the kitchen table, nothing but the sound of Bucky’s roaring laughter bouncing off your ear. By the time you finished, you tossed the bowl into the sink, making your way up to your bedroom.

“Ok, yeah, I’ve gotta go – ” Bucky said into the phone, before interrupting himself with a chuckle, laughing at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, I have to go. Yeah, no, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

You shut the door before he could get off the couch and flopped straight into bed, groaning. All you wanted to do was fall right asleep, unbothered. That’s when Bucky came in and plopped himself right down on the bed next to you. “Hey, babe,” he greeted you, giving you a light pat on the ass.

“Hey, Buck,” you replied, tucking your arms up underneath your head, propping your head up on your hands. You offered him a tired smile, gazing into his adoring blue eyes. “Who was that on the phone?”

“It was nobody,” he replied, quickly changing the subject. “How was work?”

Well that was extremely unlike him. You already knew all his friends. If it was one of them, he would’ve just said so. But it clearly wasn’t, especially considering how giggly he was on the phone. You just narrowed your eyes at him, breezing right past it. “Good – tiring,” you corrected. “But this contract closes out next week, so hopefully not that many more long days after that.”

“Good to hear, I know you can get it done, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

…

The next day, you were met with nearly the same sight. Bucky on the couch, but this time, dinner was covered on the stove. “Thanks for cooking, Buck,” you call to him, taking the lid off the pot and serving yourself a plate. He jumped from the couch and came up behind you, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck.

“Anytime, baby.” He pressed another smooch to your neck before stepping back and grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter. He poured up to glasses, situating himself at one end of the table, waiting for you to join him at the other end. Once you do, your phone rings from your purse. You drop your head back with a groan. “You should probably get that,” Bucky offered, reaching for your purse and holding it out to you.

You give him a quiet “thank you,” and answer the call. Not even before you can answer it, he’s pulling out his own phone and texting away on it. You take your call at the table, a quick last-minute question from a colleague. You tried to focus on what he was saying on the other line, but all you could do was stare at Bucky, smiling down at his phone, furiously typing away.

“No problem, Dave. Thanks for taking a look at it, we can finish up tomorrow morning,” you say into the phone, offering a quick goodbye before hanging up and digging into your food, glaring at Bucky from under your eyelashes. He still sat on his phone, laughing to himself. Once he heard your knife slide against the plate, he locked his phone, shoving it back into his pocket and looking up at you, starting another conversation about your day. You quickly changed the subject to him.

You internally rolled your eyes. All you got was talking about your day and whatever girl on the other end got giggly Bucky? Whenever work got busy, your relationship got boring. It may have been partially your fault: short tempered, tired; you put everything into your work and maybe not enough into Bucky. But your jealousy issues got the better of you. Maybe he was just talking to Sam? Or laughing at memes with Steve – they had a lot to catch up on, afterall. But if so, wouldn’t he just say that instead of saying he was talking to “nobody?”

But your paranoia was actually well placed and almost deserving. Bucky still graced the covers of magazines and newspapers. The attention people gave you quickly died down after the one-year mark on your relationship. You didn’t mind, all it was just a little more peace in your day-to-day life. That same attention never did (and never would) die down for him. He still saved the world; more importantly, he was still hot. Meaning the tabloids would continue to try to stir up trouble with him and every woman he knew. They wanted to play matchmaker, constantly shipping him with the other beautiful women he spent time with – whether that be at work or not. Thinking about all that and Bucky’s charismatic personality was almost too much for you.

…

The third night in a row where you’d come home past nine. The first night without dinner. You were met with an empty apartment, no food, no lights, not a single sign of life. You tossed your bag on the table and immediately called for takeout. As you waited for your Chinese food to arrive, you changed into your pajamas, and called Bucky.

No answer.

All you wanted was to lay on the couch and feast with him. If you were going to stuff your face, you wanted it to be with someone who really knew how to eat. After trying again with no answer, you dropped your phone on the coffee table and began flipping through the channels on TV. Not finding anything good to watch, but also deciding you didn’t have the mental capacity to watch something new, you threw on some Friends reruns. Something you could watch without having to pay attention: just what you were in the mood for.

When the doorbell rang, you jumped, almost forgetting you ordered food. You swung open the door, half expecting to find Bucky on the other side, but you were instead met with the delivery boy. You paid the guy and took the food to the living room, feasting on the couch straight from the little takeaway containers. You didn’t do this often, but damn, it was relaxing.

You picked up your phone: no notifications.

There were a few excuses you made up for him as you stuffed your face with noodles. He could be in the middle of training. You knew him and Steve too well, and knew they always had enough supersoldier energy to fit a workout in anywhere and anytime. That, or he could just be busy. Maybe a work thing came up – he does save the world for a living, afterall. He could just be at the tower. It’s not like he officially lived with you. (It was unofficial, though; he did spend nearly every other night sleeping here with you. And if he didn’t, he would at least give you a reason why he wasn’t). But you’re not his mother or his gatekeeper. There was no reason he absolutely had to tell you where he was and that he wasn’t coming over – that was crazy. But it was just…

Unlike him.

Even if he was at the tower, why wouldn’t he answer?

And as you continued onto your dumplings, you quickly began comfort eating, as your mind traveled to the worst reason you could make up.

Afterall, he never told you who he was laughing on the phone with all this time. He couldn’t even stop himself from laughing at his texts – it was blatantly obvious. There’s no way Reddit could be that funny. You scoffed. It probably was some girl – maybe that blonde from the party. You had no idea of knowing who, but you surely couldn’t stop yourself from speculating.

You called again.

Again.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

Okay and alone.

American, my American, American boy You know it's my American boy

It wasn’t every day that you thought about Bucky in such a way. Honestly, you didn’t like to think about the other women that he might be friends (or more) with. It was just your own little fucked up indulgence.

Against your best judgement, Bucky convinced you to go to another one of Tony’s parties. “It’s Steve’s birthday party, (Y/N), you have to go!”

So, you did go. And just like the very first time you met Bucky – at one of these parties – you dragged yourself out of bed and got all dressed up to head to the event. You knew even Steve wouldn’t want such a big celebration, so you’d at least have one person to mope around with.

You held on to Bucky the whole night; your arm gripping his metal bicep as the two of you mingled. Bucky liked having you tucked into his side all night, the warmth of your body pressed up against his arm. “Hey, Stevie,” you greeted him, offering a warm hug. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he replied, hugging you, then Bucky. “Happy Independence Day,” he added.

Bucky’s hand immediately snaked around your waste, pulling your hip against his.

It wasn’t until he left to use the bathroom that you suddenly felt naked. You almost wanted to wrap your arms around yourself in comfort. You felt stupid – you were in a room full of friends, people you knew, that you liked. Yet, every time you were in this setting, you never felt more insecure.

And apparently it showed.

You were joined by none-other than the reason for your insecurity. “(Y/N),” she greeted you with a curt nod.

“Hey, Natasha,” you responded, taking a long sip of your drink. She watched you under lidded eyes, her red lips pursing slightly. She looked great, of course, her royal blue dress hugging her curves tightly, he heels adding extra height the both of you knew she didn’t need. “What’s up?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Enjoying the night?”

Now it was your turn to shrug. “As much as I can, I guess. I’ve been waiting for the fireworks show. It was the best last year.”

She nodded, this time taking a swig of her own drink. “Tony sure does know how to throw a party.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “He’s thrown enough of them.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment; it wasn’t super comfortable for you, but she sure didn’t seem to notice – or care. “You seem a little on edge.”

She wanted you to out yourself. Surely, she was going to pull it out of you somehow. “Not really my scene,” you noted, swirling the ice around in your glass.

“Look, (Y/N),” she began, obviously confirming your suspicion. “There’s never been anything between me and Bucky. In fact – ” she glanced around the room, eyes stopping on a particular man. “ – I’ve got a few skeletons of my own.” You tried to follow her line of sight, but the crowd was too thick in that direction. “He loves you so stop trying to find things wrong with your relationship. He may have been a charming guy back in the day, but you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.” She winked, a small smile building across her plump red lips.

You didn’t even know what to say in that moment. You gawked at her – at Black Widow hyping you up? Was that her way of doing it? Hell, she could tell you that you intimidated every single person in this room, and you’d take it as the biggest compliment ever. To hear about your power from her? Practically an honor.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke up from behind you as he returned. “What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Just girl talk,” Natasha replied before heading off.

Bucky turned to you, confused. “What’s that about?”

You stared at her as she walked away, swaying her hips and heading for the man she mentioned earlier. “I’m not too sure,” you said slowly, mesmerized by her walk.

Bucky’s hand in yours made you turn up towards him, meeting his blue eyes. “Ready to get out of here?” He whispered lowly.

You bit your lip and nodded, setting your glass down and squeezing his hand in both of yours.

Bucky carried you from the front door to the bed; he placed you down on top of the mattress like you were made of glass. He kissed your lips like he was going off to war, but he tasted like he’d just returned.

His hands ran furiously over your back, eventually resting on the zipper and tugging downwards; your hands ran all over his chest, tugging his shirt open, no regard for the buttons. He started peeling your dress off your body as you leaned back on the bed, working on taking off your bra while he discarded the dress on the floor. He followed suit, discarding his clothes before returning to the bed, covering your body with his warm one. His flesh hand cupped your jaw, the other holding his balance on the bed. Your arms wrapped around his neck one hand holding the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, deepening the kiss, while the other ran through his tangled hair. You interlocked your legs around his waist, pulling yourself upwards to grind on his hard cock.

He moaned into your mouth, grinding back into you, reveling in just the feeling of your wetness gliding against his cock. His hand left your face to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he pinned your hips to the mattress with his own, humping against you. You whispered against him, pleading: “Bucky, please,” you whispered against his lips.

His mouth skidded down your cheek and past your jawline to suck a sloppy kiss onto your neck. As his face was buried in your shoulder, making his way down to your breast, his hand found its way between your hips, stroking your soaked lips. You hummed and gripped his hair as his finger split the difference, prodding its way into your soaked entrance. As two other fingers joined in, curling inside of your pussy, he licked your nipple, biting the pebbled nub softly. “You’re so wet, baby. Love how you’re always so wet for me.”

“Only for you, James,” you whispered, blissed out, head falling back against the mattress as his thumb found your clit, rubbing small circles under the hood. You felt a jolt up your body, your pussy instinctively clenching against his fingers.

He let out a deep breath, kissing your breast before planting a wet kiss to your lips, fingers not faltering. “I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured against your lips.

You opened your eyes, meeting his staring down at you, glazed over with lust. “I love you, baby,” you breathed, tilting your head up to kiss him again.

He pulled away from you, fingers stilling, long forgotten in the moment. “No, baby – ” he stopped, staring down at you, pleading with you, please understand. “Only you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Tears burning the back of your eyes. You bit your lip, nodding, not trusting your words as a few tears fell from the sides of your eyes, rolling down your skin to the mattress. He kissed you feverishly, teeth chipping against each other’s, lips and tongues sloppily sliding over each other, sharing air.

He pulled his hand away from your thighs, not moving far to line up his dick to your now soaked and desperate pussy. Your breath hitched as he pushed the tip in; all the air Bucky held in his lungs suddenly escaped him. “Fuck, extra tight for me tonight, huh?” You moaned, trying to rock your hips against his, his bodyweight pinning you down. “Eager, baby,” he groaned from the back of his throat.

“Please, baby,” you begged, fisting the sheets, using all your energy to grind against him. “Please.”

Please.

He complied, snapping his hips down into yours, his big dick stretching your walls. You yelped out, your opening burning as it welcomed his length. His cock curved upwards, hitting deep inside you as he swiftly moved his hips back and forth, quick rhythm never erring. His hand fell to your lower stomach, as he pressed his hand firmly above your public bone. “Mmm, look, baby, I can feel my dick in you,” he whispered, reveling in the feeling as his dick bottomed out inside of you. He felt the tip through the soft flesh of your belly – boy, you felt it, too. Every time he pounded into you felt your head spin. You saw nothing but black, stars blinding your vision at every thrust.

You nearly snaked your hand down to your clit for your final release, but he pulled your hand away, pinning it to the mattress above your head. He sat up on his knees, grabbing your other hand and joining it with the other, holding them both down to the mattress under the grasp on his metal hand. As he returned to leaning over you, sliding his dick back in your pussy, his flesh hand returned to your clit, rubbing in fast circles. You screamed, thighs coming together, snapping tightly against his hips.

That wouldn’t stop him. You weren’t strong enough to hold him in place; he kept fucking you into the mattress, your body shaking wildly as your legs were tied around him. Your back arched off the bed as your pussy throbbed. “Yeah, baby, squeezing my dick with your tight little pussy, huh?” You screamed out and nodded your head wildly, clenching around his cock as the pressure on your clit built up. “Fuck, you’re so good to me – made for me.”

You pulled against his metal arm, body convulsing underneath him. He watched with anticipation, biting his own lip nearly bloody as he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm. You yelped out, gasping for air as your eyes squeezed tight. Your legs shook around him, fingers clawing at his metal plated hand. Bucky could come along just from watching you tremble mid orgasm. But, god, your tight pussy quiver around him surely helped. He fucked you harder, the last few strokes hard and fast. He came with a groan, spilling his hot seed into your soaked cunt.

He whispered curse words to himself as he fucked his dick soft, mixing your own juices together before falling on top of you, pressing his lips to your neck, littering hickeys all over.

As he felt your post orgasm breathing change, he picked his head up, kissing all the way up your neck and jaw until he could look fully down at you. “Hey, baby, no,” he cooed once he caught sight of your watery eyes. “Why are you crying?” He kissed away the tears running down your cheeks.

You smiled at him, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “’M fine, Buck – I just,” you huffed, rolling your teary eyes at yourself, thinking it all suddenly stupid. “I’m sorry – ”

“’s nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your fingers grazed through his hair again, scratching slightly at his scalp. He knew. He knew what you were talking about. He always did – he always understood everything you did or said. “I love you, James.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” he murmured with one final kiss. “Only you.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #captain america #fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes angst

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teamxdark · 4 years

Text

More Office AU stuff

Kay: I got my security guard job through Lamorak. Apparently he just told the boss that I am big and intimidating and that got me my interview. Arthur hired me on the spot.

Kay: This building has never been safer. People say hello and goodbye to me. Dindrane brings me lunch. Life isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Fuck what my parents told me.

...

Lancelot: Someone in the office set an alarm for 5pm every day, so now whenever it’s time to pack up and leave, YMCA plays very loudly.

Lancelot: It used to be just Arthur and Guin, but it’s gotten to the point that, whenever that song plays, everyone stops working, does the arm motions when the chorus hits, and we all leave on time because we’re out of work-mode. It’s resulted in no overtime, which the higher-ups like, but slower productivity, which they don’t like. But people are less stressed out, which tilts the balance more in our favour.

Guin: *passing by, pauses to listen*

Lancelot: I have no idea who started it, but ending every workday with the YMCA song is honestly brilliant and I wish I knew who to thank.

Guin: *smirks, winks at the camera, and leaves*

....

Tristan: Guinevere has a framed picture on her desk.

Tristan: It’s not of her husband. It’s not of her family. It’s not of her friends. It’s not even of her. It’s a picture of her pet lizard, Omega.

Tristan: I consider myself a powerful, go-getter type woman in the workplace, but that lady is fearless and is going places. There are some things in this world that just command instant respect from others, and apparently a framed picture of your pet lizard is one of them.

....

Smithy: Being part of the product design and manufacturing team is fun here because there’s three of us: me, Enid, and Dindrane. We all like listening to music while we work, so we alternate playlists every day.

Smithy: I’m the kind of guy who just makes one big playlist every time I hear or remember a song I like. I add it to the list. I’ve got hours of music at the ready and on my days, we never hear a song twice, unless the shuffle option glitches.

Smithy: But the other two? Very specific in their music tastes.

Smithy: Enid? He likes songs that sound upbeat but have downer lyrics that you don’t always notice at first. Things like Pumped Up Kicks, 99 Luftballons, Jump, and lots of songs by Third Eye Blind.

Smithy: Dindrane? Her playlist is entirely metal and alternative rock in every language that isn’t English. I can’t name a single song or band on that playlist. The one exception is Macarena. Dindrane knows the actual lyrics to the Macarena and that’s a power that no one should have.

Smithy: One thing’s for sure, though. None of us can resist singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody, even though none of us can sing.

....

Enid: I’m part of the production team, but I’m more of a designer than a builder. I help draw up plans, but when it comes to making the prototypes, it’s all my coworkers. On the flip side, I’m the main graphic designer for the branch. I make a lot of advertisement concepts and show them to the boss.

Enid: Here’s the thing... I got bored once and I made an alternative design one day with the slogan “Avalon Industries, Because Fuck You”. I accidentally showed that one to the boss and he laughed for five minutes straight and taped it to the fridge.

Enid: Now I always make two designs. One to submit, and one for the fridge. Sometimes it’s a dumb caption. Sometimes I badly photoshop a meme into the design. Once I just gave a blank paper with the words “Insert Ad Here”.

Enid: We have a wall dedicated to my art and I’m honestly more proud of that than any design the company actually uses.

.......

Gaheris: I make sure to celebrate everyone’s birthday in some way or another. Not everyone wants to make a big fuss, so sometimes it’s as simple as leaving a snack or a brand new stapler or something on their desk.

Gaheris: Guin and Lancelot share a birthday, so that’s always a big celebration. I don’t think any work gets done that day. We’re all usually partied out by the time Arthur’s birthday rolls around a few days later. I still leave some cupcakes and fruit out on that day.

Gaheris: The thing is, when my birthday rolls around, I reap what I sow. Last time, my desk was covered in cake and flowers and cards and I couldn’t uncover the phone for a good twenty minutes.

Gaheris: As far as problems go, that’s a pretty neat problem to have.

.....

Bors: Pros of living with one of your best friends who also works in the same place as you? Save money on carpooling. Save money on rent. When one of you is tired, the other can look after your son who always seems to have endless energy. Lunch is easier to plan. With all the money we save, Elyan goes to a good school and we can afford his extracurriculars.

Bors: Cons of living with Bedivere? I have to subsidise his coffee addiction. I don’t think he’s slept in a week and I keep waking up at 2am to the sound of him watching anime or let’s plays.

....

Merlina: It’s hard to say who scares me the most in this office. It’s not just basic intimidation either, even though Gawain and Kay have that down. I swear some people here are on a completely different level of existence.

Merlina: Once I saw Tristan get her performance review and I guess it said that she wasn’t showing the desired level of productivity or something because she sat down at her computer and worked without a break for the rest of the day. She didn’t stop for lunch, or to go to the bathroom. Just sit, work, YMCA and leave. She did three days worth of work in eight hours and I still don’t know how she found the strength to do that.

Merlina: Once Lamorak was struggling to find a mistake in his code that kept it from working. Bors looked at it and pointed out a missing indent in less than twenty seconds. I then watched him eat an entire burger in one bite and then fall asleep in his chair.

Merlina: And it’s not just my coworkers. I swear I saw one of the teen interns bend a spoon with his mind, and I’m pretty sure the other one is a pyromaniac who hides it really well.

Merlina: And Geraint... that guy is beyond understanding. He works in accounting but I’ve never seen him use a calculator. I don’t think he owns one. One day he deadass started reciting pi and he made it to maybe the 87th digit before he stopped, and that was because he had to cough.

Merlina: All of my coworkers scare me in different ways because I feel like one day I’ll come in and I’ll learn that someone’s mother is actually god and no one will bat an eye.

Merlina: ...I hope it’s Lancelot’s mother. She’s a saint.

.....

Geraint: *takes a sip of water and clears his throat*

Geraint: 3.141592653589793238462643383279502884 *continues with no sign of stopping*

#Smash speaks.#Office AU.#long post

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selfmademen · 4 years

Text

Top Surgery Experience

Okay, so I said I would do a write up of my top surgery experience and I’ve finally gotten around to it. Uni started right after so I’ve been fairly frazzled.

Please feel free to ask any questions you may have! I’ll do my best to answer them.

To start with, I currently live in NSW, Australia. There are a few Australian top surgeons, but as a NSW resident my best bet was Dr Steven Merten, with Pure Aesthetics in Sydney. Because Australia has a public healthcare system I was able to get my top surgery under that scheme. As far as I’m aware Dr Merten is the only top surgeon who offers this surgery through the public system. He works in partnership with Concord Hospital in Sydney, and that’s where I had my surgery. If you go privately there are other options for the hospital you stay at. There are pros and cons to the public system, which I’ll detail below.

Pros:

I paid $500~ out of pocket instead of between $5k and $10k (if you have private health insurance it may cover some)

Since he’s in my state I didn’t have to travel far

He’s one of the most experienced top surgeons in the state

there’s two places for appointments, either at his clinic or at the Macquarie uni rooms

Cons:

because I went publicly he didn’t perform the surgery personally, rather a registrar did. However, he was in the room the entire time overseeing the operation.

because he’s so popular I had to wait a full year from the first consultation to the actual surgery date

it was extremely hard to get onto the wait list due to how popular he is.

the public system is only available to NSW residents over 18

I was lucky in that my GP at the time knew him professionally and called in a favour so that I knew the moment his books were open, and I am forever grateful for that. It is MUCH easier to get an appointment with him through the private system, but that’s a lot more expensive. For me, the pros far outweighed the cons here, and I decided I could wait a year for my surgery. I had also intended to lose weight beforehand, but that didn’t happen. Woops.

Prior to my first consultation I needed a referral both from my GP, and a registered psychologist or psychiatrist detailing my transition and documented dysphoria surrounding my breasts. The first consultation was $300 iirc, and I paid a $100 deposit, so only paid $200 on the day. Medicare also gave me a $100-something rebate.

The first consultation was fairly quick. He asked some questions about my transition, what my expectations were regarding surgery, detailed my options, and explained the procedures. He measured my breasts, but never touched me (I kinda just picked them up and moved them where he asked). He also took a photo of my chest, with my consent.

I didn’t actually hear from them until about three months before my surgery because my details got lost, but USUALLY the hospital will get in contact with you regarding your surgery date, what you should expect, and when your pre-op consultation is. I also had to fill out a pre-op health questionnaire and personal details. Due to my high level of haemoglobin as a side effect of T, I was required to provide them with more recent blood test results, but you may not have to do this. Usually there is also a pre-op appointment with the nurses and anethetist at the hospital, but the nurse I spoke to said that I didn’t need to go if I didn’t have any pressing concerns.

My pre-op consult with Dr Merten was a couple of weeks before my surgery, however, it’s usually around the same time. This one was $100, and I also had to pay $130 for a medical compression vest which I have to wear for up to three weeks post-op. Again, Medicare partially reimbursed my consultation fee, but not the vest.

During this consultation we basically covered the same things, and I also saw a nurse who told me what medications to avoid, and briefed me on post op care. She also gave me my medical vest, wound tape, and some pamphlets.

Some things she covered:

smokers should stop smoking 12 weeks before surgery

you should limit your alcohol intake the week before surgery, and don’t drink alcohol AT ALL during the two days immediately prior to surgery

no herbal medications, asparin, ibuprofen, or other blood thinners for two weeks prior to surgery. IF YOU ARE ON BLOOD THINNERS FOR MEDICAL REASONS THIS MAY BE DIFFERENT FOR YOU.

do not eat or drink anything from midnight the night before your surgery. Morning medication (antidepressants in my case) can be taken with a sip of water.

the night before and morning of surgery I had to shower with a special soap that was provided in order to kill bacteria on my skin.

I did have to call the admissions centre the day before my surgery to confirm my appointment time. For me it was 8:30. Before going in I had a brief interview with a nurse, who took down my details and checked me for allergies and medical conditions. I was given my wrist bands (red, since I have a codeine allergy), and directed up to where I would meet the nurses. There I changed into the operating gown (you can keep your undies on) and compression socks due to my weight.

I was taken to a prep room before the operating theatre where Dr Merten marked my chest. Basically where things would be cut, lipo’d, etc. I was feeling nervous so the anethetist also came in, did my canula and gave me something to relax (don’t know what it was). He was extremely kind and friendly, and said he was honoured to be included in this part of my journey, which I honestly thought was an incredibly sweet thing to say, and I’m very grateful for how he looked after me.

The relaxation shit kinda made me dopey, and pretty much immediately I was wheeled into the theatre. They had me wriggle from the bed onto the table, I nearly fell off, but it was all good. I don’t really remember much from here, but there was some music playing, and the nurses and registrar were setting up.

At this point the anethetist put the mask on and told me to take some deep breaths. I remember it tasting and smelling really weird, and the next thing I know I was waking up in recovery.

I’m not sure how long I was in recovery for because I kept drifting in and out, but they gave me something for the pain and then wheeled me to the ward. I started waking up properly around this time, had a chat with the people transporting me, and by the time I was in the ward I was fully alert (and really needed to pee).

Because of my size and the way the surgery worked out, I did have a few staples at the ends of my incisions, and I also had to put the compression vest on. I also had drains, with bags that needed to be changed every twelve hours. Nurses would also come and take my blood pressure and check that everything was okay and that I wasn’t in too much pain. They were all extremely welcoming and accepting, never misgendered me once, and even double checked my name and pronouns to ensure that everyone knew. My mate was also allowed to stay with me pretty much the whole day until dinner, which really helped me cos I’m bad with hospitals.

After surgery I was stiff and ached a little, but there wasn’t too much pain. I was able to go to the toilet myself, although wiping was very difficult for the first week.

I stayed overnight, and was discharged the next day. They gave me anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and some opiates to help the pain. I should note here that I do have an extremely high pain tolerance, so outside of days where I pushed myself a bit too far, I generally didn’t need to use them.

I’m unsure if my experience is unusual, as I was able to do pretty much everything immediately post-op. Of course, I’ve been taking it easy, but dressing, sleeping, cooking, moving, has all so far been generally okay. I have had some pain on days where I moved about too much, or sat up too much, but that’s also partially chronic pain flaring up due to my bad back.

I was discharged with my drains still in, as I’m a bleeder. Usually with Dr Merten they’re removed before discharge, but I was sent home with some bags and instructed to change them every 24 hours and keep a record of how much had drained. I think I wound up keeping my drains in for around a week before they were removed.

I went to the medical centre twice to have my dressings changed and drains checked (and eventually removed), and was sent home with a sterile staple remover for my GP to remove my staples with. They’ll be coming out at the end of the week. The drains didn’t hurt when removed, it just felt like an odd tugging sensation. The stitches Dr Merten used are dissolving ones, so no need to get them taken out.

I do have to change my nipple dressings every three days, and the tape on my incisions can stay on for up to a week. The stuff I use is extremely strong and has glue on it, so I’m a bit hesitant to change it on my own (nearly ripped a staple out last time I changed my dressings).

I’m roughly three weeks post-op now, and I have pretty much all my mobility back. Showering is difficult, as is bending over or reaching to one side (tugs on my incisions). There is pain when I do things, but unless something actively tugs at, touches, or puts pressure on my wounds I’m not in any pain. Mostly its just an annoyance at this stage.

I’m still sleeping on my back, although I can lie on my side for short periods of time. There’s some bruising around my armpits where I had liposuction, and there is a small numb patch on my left side. I can’t feel my nipples, but I also couldn’t feel them prior to this so it’s not a huge loss.

I’ve seen some people say that they felt depressed post-op because of a hormone fluctuation, but personally when I saw my chest it felt natural and right. I didn’t cry (not a big crier) and I wasn’t surprised or shocked or… overwhelmed. To me it was my outer body finally reflecting my inner self. I already looked like this in my own mind, so it was just natural that it looks the way it does post-op.

Unfortunately some dysmorphia and self-esteem issues surrounding my weight have resurfaced, but that’s not really related to the top surgery, and it’s something I’m able to work on as I recover.

If there’s something I haven’t covered that you’re curious about, please send an ask! I’ve tried to be as thorough as possible, but its been a few weeks and some details are fuzzy.

#top surgery

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howrry · 5 years

Text

once in a lifetime

a/n: sorry for the hiatus, i can’t find the strain i used earlier this year that led me to churn out a ton of writing so this was a little painstaking. here’s older!harry. bon appetit

warning: do i even gotta warn you that there’s smut? nc-17

w/c: 4.5k

***

Harry's life post-fame was, well, not so great.

His stardom, in his eyes, appeared to have no end. His friends and family had expressed concerns all throughout his career that he was peaking too early, but it seemed that life only got better. More music, meeting more of his idols, more new fans and more arenas sold out before his eyes.

Unfortunately, he noticed that as he got older, his body just wasn't accustomed to the touring, drugs, and partying like it was in his youth. He had a heart-to-heart with himself and realized that his best option was to retire, which he did in his late 30's.

He even got married, to an elementary school teacher named Grace. One of his friends had set him up with her on a blind date and he liked how predictable and simple she and her life were. She was such a nice change from the hecticness of his life before, and ended up engaged after only 9 months of dating (much to his fans' dismay).

But sadly, all that glitters is not gold. After less than three years of marriage, Harry and Grace seemed to be fighting more often than they got along. They argued over everything in the books; money, physical absence, their families, substance abuse, sex, the idea of having kids, the idea of not having kids, commitment, the list went on. Eventually it was clear that Harry was much more invested in the relationship than she, which devastated him. Regardless, he pushed on.

One night, when the air in his household was thicker than molasses, Harry went into the master bedroom of his home. He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his trousers. He climbed into bed where Grace was reading a novel. She didn't move, or look over, or even acknowledge that her husband had joined her.

"Grace?" he asked softly. Still no reaction.

He was scared. Sure, he and his wife fought plenty, but as of late, she barely spoke five words to him.

"Please," he begged, reaching out and delicately placing a hand on her forearm. "We don't have to do anything but please talk t'me. Something is clearly wrong. We haven't even spoken or had sex in w—"

"Is that all that matters to you? God, Harry, think with your other head for a change," Grace snapped, closing her book and yanking her arm away. She stood up out of bed and H heard her footsteps all the way downstairs. The telltale slam of the basement door indicated that she'd be sleeping in the guest room and he would be alone for the night. Again.

Harry's head dropped back down onto the pillow. He wasn't much of a confrontational person and hated these conflicts they had. Harry closed his eyes tight and hoped as hard as he could that the yelling and the ignoring and the disinterest would end.

And in some twisted way, he got his wish, because a week later, Grace slapped half-signed divorce papers in front of him on the breakfast table. She wouldn't entertain any sort of reconciliation; she just wanted to be separated.

The divorce was brutal. The soft, kind woman H had married just a couple years ago was gone and replaced with a cold, unloving person who wanted nothing to do with him.

As if the whole process in and of itself wasn't bad enough, Harry didn't realize that Grace would be getting the house until far too late into the separation. Her lawyer even patronized Harry-- you're an ex-rock star, I'm sure you can find a place to go. If it weren't for Liam providing him a place to stay in the meantime of finding a house, he really doesn't know what he would've done.

***

Harry knocked on Liam's door, hat in hand, and was greeted by his old friend who pulled him into a hug.

"It's been too long, mate," Liam noted, before guiding Harry into his home.

"Y/N, get down here!" Liam called, and seconds later she bounded down the stairs.

It had been ages since he'd seen Liam's daughter, Y/N. The last time he'd been around Li and his family, she'd been 14 and was in the moody teenage stage, but she was so different now. She was taller and her hair was longer, and she'd filled out quite nicely judging by how well her tennis skirt fit her--

Whoa, he caught himself. That's his friend's daughter. What was wrong with him?!

"Show Harry to the guest room," Liam told her, shaking H from his terrible thoughts. "Until then, I'll pour us some scotch and we can catch up," he said to Harry before heading off to the lounge.

Harry followed Y/N upstairs and down the hallway to the plain yet comfortable room. She opened the door and gestured for him to go inside, tossing her hair and lazily swinging the door behind her-- not quite letting it shut, though.

"Sorry that it's not exactly Caesar's Palace," she joked. "Since Mom died, my dad just let the importance of interior design slip away."

Harry waved her concerns away, setting his bag on the bed. "Nonsense. This was really nice of you two-- I'd sleep on a couch if I had to." She giggled at this before turning towards him.

Y/N looked up at Harry and gave him the look. It wasn't one he'd seen since his younger days, when girls and guys alike in clubs wanted to bed him for the social status. They lowered their eyelids slightly, cocked their head, and the corner of their mouth would tug up a bit in the hopes that it would make him immediately swoon. It never worked on H because he wasn't stupid, but he still recognized it to this day. Harry had no option except to match her eye contact, as he didn't trust himself to not let his eyes wander down to her V-neck.

Before he could say or do anything, Y/N breezed past him. "Dinner will be ready in thirty," she noted, brushing her hand down his arm as she left the guest room.

What the fuck?

Harry went back downstairs to join Liam and his two snifters on the table. His daughter was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she was in the kitchen. Liam droned on about how he was doing (probably in an attempt to take H's mind off his divorce) but, frankly, Harry wasn't really listening.

There's no way Y/N is trying to seduce him. No way. He's just... not been with a woman in a long time and is a little rusty with the signs. I mean, get real. He's almost 40 and she's, what, 18? 19? What would she want to do with him?

Dinner ended up being fajitas, good comfort food. Halfway through the dinner, though, Y/N innocuously gave up on using a tortilla and ate the filling with her hands. In any other scenario, Harry would find this to be in poor taste, but the way she made eye contact with H while licking the seasoning off her fingers made him forget all about table manners.

"... and the pap actually followed me into the locker room of my gym! I ripped him a new one. Yelling about how I haven't made music in a decade and left the band twice that much time age, and when they'll ever leave me alone. On the bright side, I think I flipped the bird in enough of his shots that none of them saw the light of day!" Liam had been telling a story which H had completely zoned out from, but luckily caught on to the part meant to be a joke. All three of them laughed together, though only one was genuine.

***

Harry couldn't fall asleep.

It didn't have any natural explanation; he didn't have any caffeine after three, he had a nightcap with Liam, and the finalization of the divorce should've led to him getting more sleep, right? Nonetheless, after hours of tossing and turning, he'd essentially given up and resorted to watching the fan lazily spin around. A sudden knock on his door spooked him, and when the door creaked open, Y/N's head popped in.

"Hey, Harry?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?" he grunted, sitting up. "'S everything alright?"

She entered without permission and sat on the edge of his bed. In the light of the bright moon outside he could see she was in a sheer white gown that just barely reached her mid-thigh. Scandalous. "Couldn't sleep."

"Same boat," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows. Her face was bare, clean of the makeup she'd had on earlier. She looked so fresh and healthy and her white nightgown gave her skin a sun-kissed appearance

Y/N sighed, her eyes wandered over his entire body, or at least all she could gather in the dark room. "Can I ask you a question?" she started, a delicate hand creeping on Harry's knee. "It's kind of... personal."

He swallowed thickly. Was it bad that just her hand on his leg made his cock twitch? "O'course. What's up?"

Y/N pursed her lips before releasing them and darting her tongue out and in. "You've had lots of sex, right?"

And he nearly choked on his own breath. She's so... straight to the point. He managed to keep his cool and nodded carefully. Where was she going with this?

"Well... I haven't," she continued, her hand sliding up his thigh just a little. "I've been seeing this guy, and he's great and all, but he's not too good in bed. I wanna do things with a man who knows what he's doing before I go back to the losers my age who... don't. Would you show me what it's like?" Her soft eyes lifted to meet his, and he couldn't believe his ears.

"Y/N... I-I don't know." Harry rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, as if to make sure he wasn't hallucinating this whole thing. It took him a bit to appreciate that she really had been trying to seduce him and he wasn't just going crazy.

He thought over it for a second. "It seems so wrong. I mean, the age gap is one thing, and your dad is another, but if you're already in a relationship I just...," he trailed off, not quite finishing his point and scanning your smirking face.

"He'll never know," she shrugged casually. "Not Alex or my dad. It's just a one time thing and it won't happen again."

He dragged a hand down his face, thinking over her proposition. At first glance, the cons of possibly getting caught greatly outweighed the pros. How many moral guidelines would he be breaking if he took her up on her offer? On the other hand, he hasn't had sex in what felt like ages, and when would he get this kind of chance again? He was getting up there in age and, despite his ex-star status, likely wouldn't have an attractive young woman throwing themselves at him ever again.

Fuck it.

"I- alright. What did you have in mind?" Harry's cock was starting to harden in his pants and he prayed that the angle his knee was at was hiding it.

Y/N smiled delightfully. "That's why I came to you. I don't just wanna do stuff, I want to learn. You show me."

Harry was gonna die from this girl. "Fuck, pet, you're gonna wreck me. Do you wanna... I don't know, start by sucking me off?"

"Yes please," she whispered, and there was officially zero blood left in any other part of his body.

"C'mere then." She clambered over the bed and his legs until they were face to face. He cupped her face in his big hands and connected their lips. Her lips were so soft and he wasted no time deepening the kiss followed by flicking the tip of his tongue on hers.

She pulled back to breathe. "You're fucking good at that," she blurted.

He smiled-- couldn't help it. "Then we should keep doing it," he suggested. They giggled together and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They continued making out, Harry leaning back until Y/N was laying on top of him.

One of her hands crept down to feel him in his boxers, cupping his erection. He moaned into her mouth, and she popped off his lips, making a juicy sound. She shifted down and toyed with his waistband before hesitating.

"I've only done this once, so..." she started, eyes avoiding him, "you may need to show me what to do."

"S'alright, pet," he soothed, cusping her chin and bringing her to make eye contact with him.

He sat back and took his boxers off, fleetingly embarrassed at his already-hard cock. It subsided when Y/N's eyes landed on it and her mouth actually dropped open. He grinned and took himself in his hand, pulling the foreskin down and swirling the precum around the tip. "See something y'like?"

She nodded and dropped down to be level with his member. "It's... big." Y/N gently took his cock and leaned in next to it to compare the size to her face. "How am I supposed to fit this all in me?" she asked innocently.

He groaned. "You sure y're new to this? Cause y're doing pretty damn well so far and y'haven't even gotten y'mouth on me."

She smiled and dragged the flat of her tongue from base to tip, making his head roll back. "Perfect, love. Act like you're trying to keep melting ice cream from getting everywhere." Y/N nodded.

Her tongue worked over every inch of him before finally attaching her lips to the head. She delicately sucked before getting the nerve to push down further. H's hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head and her mouth instantly became softer and over half of his cock slid between her lips.

"Fuck," he bit, emphasizing the K. Y/N liked hearing him swear because of what she was doing and was only spurred on. Maybe she was a little too excited, because she went a little too far down and came up coughing up a storm.

"Careful, doll," he cooed, rubbing her back as she regained her cool. "Do it at your own pace, not what you think I'd want." She nodded, teary eyes meeting his dark ones.

When his cock bumped at her lips again, she spit on it before going back to her comfort level. Her small hands gripped his base, where she couldn't fit her mouth. She acted like she didn't care how much of a mess she made and Harry thought it was so fucking hot. Her head lifted and lowered in his lap, obscenities slipping from H's mouth.

It got to a point where Harry was involuntarily bucking into her mouth, and he knew he was about to overwhelm her. If he kept letting her blow him, he'd cum down her throat any minute. "Fuck, love," he groaned, pulling her off him by her hair. "I think it's about time for your turn."

Y/N pouted for a second and he almost snapped. Her lips were puffy from sucking his cock, her eyes were watery, and her cheeks were pink and it took so much in him to not shove himself back into her soft mouth.

But she nodded and allowed him to pull the nightie off her body, exposing her breasts to him. He resisted impulsively grabbing at them as she rolled back onto the bed, hair fanning out below her. He climbed up and kissed her, tasting himself on her lips. He dragged his own mouth down her jaw and neck, past her collarbones and attached onto her nipple. One of his hands toyed with her other breast and her back arched beneath his body.

"Stay still," he ordered, breath ghosting over her skin. To further assert this, his free hand pressed her body back down onto the bed. She complied, but let heavenly noises slip from her.

Harry continued trailing down her body until he reached her white panties, which he grabbed with his teeth and dragged down her legs. He used his hands to get them off the rest of the way and spread her legs, exposing all of her to him. "So gorgeous," he said, almost to himself.

"Do you touch yourself?" he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

Her cheeks were a soft pink, bashful at the sudden eye contact. "Yes," ghosted out of her mouth.

"What do you think about?"

Y/N pursed her lips momentarily. "Getting eaten out," she whispered. "No one's ever done it to me, but I bet it feels great."

Harry laughed at this, and placed two of his fingers on her clit. They dragged down her core to her already-wet hole and slowly made their way back up. His pressure was so light, yet her heightened sensitivity had her head roll back. "Go on," he hummed.

Y/N sucked air through her teeth but obeyed. "Sometimes in porn, they 69 and I think that's so hot," she rushed out. "Like, both are getting pleased and moaning into the other--oh God," she whimpered when he momentarily dipped his middle finger inside her, only to pull it right back out.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Y'watch porn, hmm?"

It was Y/N's turn to smirk. "Everyone does." H pressed his finger slightly harder against her button and her back arched involuntarily.

His free hand pushed her back down again. "I said to stay still," he muttered, face hardening for a moment. "What else do you like to see?"

She gnawed on her bottom lip. "When they fuck missionary, I think it's really sweet when they make eye contact, but..." she trailed off.

"But what?" Harry pushed on, dipping his middle and index finger in this time.

"But... but I like when he fucks her from behind more. And it's really rough. And the girls cums all over his cock." Y/N exhaled, closing her eyes.

"Fuck, love, you're filthy," he noted. Harry spread her open and paid exclusive attention to her swollen clit, making her gasp as his rough fingers circled and flicked over it.

It was almost too much-- she was so sensitive she couldn't help but grab at his wrist to try and stop his actions. This finally got him impatient. He gripped her hand and huffed darkly, "Grab at me again and I'll tie you to this bed." Y/N's eyes were wide as saucers but her hands retreated and she allowed him to continue playing with her.

Without warning, H plunged his first two fingers into her down to his knuckles. He drew circles with his fingertips inside her pussy, stretching her open while stimulating every angle. Every four or five rotations, he hooked his fingers up to press against the spongey spot that had her whimpering and shaking.

"F-feels so good, Harry," she whined, struggling not to touch him and desperate for more. Her head tossed from side to side, as if to hide her moans and contorting face.

"Yeah?" he purred. "Y'like feeling m'fingers buried inside your tight little cunt?" Y/N nodded, slightly grinding her hips down. He allowed this, thumbing at her clit as she grabbed at the sheets.

Harry drew his fingers from her, and she groaned at the suddenly empty feeling. "Shh, love. Let's try something new." Her eyes confusedly begged for an explanation.

As soon as he uttered that number, Y/N's face brightened, she moved to let him lay on the bed and climbed so that her core was just above his face. She took his member in her hand as he grabbed at her ass with his big hands. The two of them dove into the other with carnal ferocity. Harry ate her like she was water in a desert, and this angle allowed his cock to slip right down her throat. The two devoured the other until the only sounds in the room were the slick noises of their own arousal and their muffled moans.

Y/N had never experienced this kind of raw pleasure before. He circled his tongue around her clit and, at the same time, pushed two fingers into her. She began to get a little greedy and pushed back against his face. He encouraged this, taking his fingers from her and wrapping his arms around her thighs and pulling her back on him. It wasn't long before she couldn't even focus on him anymore and virtually began riding his tongue. Her wobbly arms straddled his torso as he continued eating her out with the sounds of her gasps mixing with his mouth on her wet peach.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna--" she stuttered before reaching her high. Harry's tongue dove even further into her, letting her ride out her orgasm on his face. Even after she'd finished, he continued to lick into her.

Y/N rolled off his face and away from him. When he reached for her, she kept him at a distance with her arm extended. "I'm so... so..."

"Sensitive," he finished in a breath. She fell back onto the bed and he hovered over her. "When you come down, I want to be inside you."

Her jaw dropped at his boldness, but truthfully it was exactly what she wanted. After a few moments of her catching her breath, she laid back down on the bed and Harry towered over her. He caught glimpses of nervousness and leaned down to kiss her.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, breath ghosting over her skin.

She shook her head. "No, but I'm not that... y'know..." Her eyes closed as she trailed off but Harry understood.

"Shh, s'alright. I'll be gentle," he promised. He lined himself up with her hole. "Are y'sure you want this?" he asked, just in case.

"Yes, please," she whined, and once given the green light, he inhaled sharply before gently pushing himself forward. The few seconds it took to fit his whole cock in her were perhaps the longest moments of his life. She was just so fucking tight, he had to count backwards from 100 to keep from harshly snapping his hips into hers.

Before he knew it, he looked down and his entire cock was buried in her cunt. He didn't dare move, allowing her to adjust before he really took off. It was so snug he thought he was about to go blind. Even with all they had already done, he still felt some level of disgust with himself.

Nonetheless, he couldn't stop.

She clenched around him, trying to hide her grimace. He leaned down to coo in her ear, "Shh, baby, take your time." H carefully kissed around her jaw and rubbed his hands up and down the sides of her body while continuing to stay still until she whimpered out one lone word. Move.

He straightened up again and reeled his hips back, revealing his cock now glistening. Harry pushed it back into her slowly causing her jaw to go slack and a soft moan to escape.

What really was the cherry on top for her was just the raw feeling of a cock inside her. The drag of it retreating and thrusting back into her, the empty feeling it left on the backstrokes, the tip pressing against the one spot inside her leaving her speechless. Sure, she'd played with herself and some boys had had the privilege of filling her with their fingers and whatnot, but nothing in her life had compared to a grown man stretching out her cunt with his thick cock.

Harry was shamelessly staring at himself disappearing into her walls and Y/N grinned. "Y'like watching yourself fuck this young cunt, hmm?" she teased, one hand grabbing the bedding and the other digging into his bicep.

"You've got a dirty mouth, y'little minx," he gritted out, a hand snaking up and gripping her throat as he continued fucking into her.

A devious smile crept up on her face, both frightening Harry and making his cock twitch. "Flip... me... over," she begged, voice straining through Harry's fist around her neck.

He nodded and pulled his cock from her. He moved back on the bed to allow her to lay on her stomach. Harry grabbed her hips and yanked her up on her knees and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her slit to collect her arousal.

She arched her back and turned her head so that she could watch him fuck her. Her fingers clenched the sheets as he pressed the tip against her entrance before slowly sliding himself in again. Every thrust pushed her further into the pillows before he finally gave up and grabbed her by her hair, pulling her up so that her back was flush with his chest. The hand not tangled in her hair snaked around the front of her body for stability as he continued roughly fucking her.

He released her hair and brought the hand around to dip his fingers into her mouth. "Get 'em nice and wet, doll," he ordered and she complied, licking and sucking at his fingers until they were soaked. He trailed this hand down to her clit and began rubbing circles without breaking his rhythm.

Both of them were getting nearer to their orgasm, evident by Y/N's legs starting to shake beneath her and Harry's thrust becoming more and more erratic. "I'm g-na cum a-gain," Y/N choked out.

"Jus' a bit more, darling, and I'll fill your little pussy up," he hissed into her ear, which only made the both of them closer. Soon Y/N cried out so loud Harry had to smack a hand over her mouth, and his hips awkwardly stuttered as both of them came.

He drew himself out and both of them collapsed on the bed to catch their breath. Neither of them knew what to say or even think about what just happened.

Y/N shakily sat up after catching her breath."I can't stay here, or I'll fall asleep and my dad will catch us in the morning," she noted. "Thank you for that, Harry."

He snorted. "I should be thanking you. I haven't cum that hard in a long time."

She didn't respond, and it was quiet in the room for a few moments before Y/N finally broke the silence. "I think I have to break up with Alex," she muttered, slipping the nightgown back over her head and going to the door.

Panicked, Harry sat up on his elbows with his eyebrows furrowed. "What? Why?" His mind raced. Did she now regret doing this and felt guilty, maybe? Had he just made a huge mistake?

She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob, and turned to him. "Because every time I'm gonna be with him in the future, I'm gonna be thinking about what just happened," she explained with a grin before leaving and closing the door behind her.

If it weren't for the mind-blowing sex he'd just had and the sound of the fan soothing him to sleep, he probably wouldn't have let her leave.

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harryforvogue #jawllines #haroldloverboy #seriously guys whatever weed my guy had back in january/february was like talent in a plant #i would sit at my laptop and write THOUSANDS of words of Hontent #unfortunately for most of them once i got 1/3 of the way thru i got a new idea and abandoned the old one #i try to go back to them but it's a clear distinction of what i wrote in my manic frenzy and what I'm forcing myself to write #anyways sorry if you read all these tags i hope you enjoyed!

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veronicassadboi · 5 years

Note

here's a prompt for you, if you like!: Veronica emancipates herself from her parents and while she looks for a place to live, Jughead invites her to stay with him. But neither of them were expecting what happens next. 👀

I loved this prompt! I tried to stray as far as possible from my usual angst and I’m so awkward with fluff but here we are.

—-

Veronica was torn between feeling totally exposed, not wanting anyone in La Bonne Nuit and not wanting him to leave, desperately needing someone to talk to.

Jughead Jones steps heavily from foot to foot slowly through the room wearing a smug smirk that made Veronica’s lips twitch. “Well, Princess,” he says, a cockiness in his voice. “The new digs aren’t the Pembrooke, I bet you miss Hiram Lodge now…”

What were supposed to be skinny jeans were baggy on his lank frame and his red Docs needed replacing yet the man had the audacity to judge her new living arrangements. Veronica sighs loudly and exhales again through her nostrils, she was hardly in a place to be judging, but it was a hard habit to break. Quite like his dirty habit that hangs from his long fingers that rest near his face, ash falling on her carpet… “That carpet does not pay for itself,” she spits, walking up to him in a hurry and kicking at the ash into the carpet with red bottom heels.

“And apparently not by Hiram Lodge anymore either,” Jughead sniggers. “Tell me, how is it being emancipated?”

Jughead’s arrogance was eating away at Veronica’s patience. Of course it was a stupid idea to tell him, but he was the leader of the Serpents, and they protected not only herself and La Bonne Nuit, sooner or later, one of them were going to find out she was crashing at her own Speakeasy. She clears her throat, straightens her back ignoring the impulse to lunge at him and gives him a curt smile. “All I can say, Jones, is that you really should do it yourself.”

Jughead shrugs, putting out a cigarette in the bottom of a bourbon glass that sits on her bartop. “I mean, my mom isn’t Riverdale’s finest, but I’m not running the risk of missing out on her home cooked meals, you really oughta consider all aspects of cutting off your family -”

Veronica cuts him off, placing her hands on her hips. “I haven’t cut them off completely.”

He tuts at her, waving his hand in the air as he inspects the place. She’s not sure what he��s doing, or what he’s looking for but his wandering eyes throughout her pride and joy makes her feel uneasy and exposed. “Princess, if you haven’t cut them off completely, then why am I the next best thing to talk to?”

She simply doesn’t know. Archie seemed distant, and even more so with the amount of time he throws into El Royale. And besides, things had never really been the same. Not since her dad. Not since Archie came back. Veronica could ask Betty for anything, but for some reason, this just seemed out of bounds. “You are an absolute narcissist.”

Jughead shrugs again then spins on the backs of his boots, pulling his beanie down. He stands before her, staring. “I’m not sold on the new digs, Veronica,” he says with a laidback ring. “I don’t think you should stay here.”

Veronica scoffs. Of course it wasn’t her first choice, but until she got on her feet, it would have to do. She was fine with it, she knows it’s not the worst place to lay her head, so what did it matter to him? “And why is that?”

“It’s cold for starters.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s just not suitable.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “Oh and how would you know?”

Jughead’s eyes darken and he spots her suitcase in the corner behind the bar. “Trust me, Princess, I of all people know.”

Veronica feels a little guilty. Atleast La Bonne Nuit wasn’t as bad as a school closet.

-----

At first, his new trailer didn’t seem any better than the back room of the Speakeasy. Until the middle of winter struck. The snow dusted trailers all looked pretty from the road, she’d give Southside that, and being closer to Fangs fulfilled all her gossip-filled needs.

Crashing with Jughead came with both it’s pros and cons. Pros were that he was in fact a good cook, he was strangely tidy, even by her standards. There were several cons. He would get lazy in the night and smoke out of the kitchen window, she had to make do with his almost non-existent thread count sheets and he was often midnight rambling when she was trying to get to sleep. Apparently even the Prep school didn’t stimulate his mind enough, though he told her often that she should also be attending - she was unsure if this was an insult or compliment.

Veronica had noticed that Jughead wasn’t a coffee induced high this time. He was multiple cups of tea in a row, wearing layers of clothing. “Are you on a caffeine strike?”

Jughead looks up from his laptop, she watches a lick of his lips and notices his eyes drag from her feet upward. “The winter hasn’t been so kind the last few nights,” he groans, leaning back with his hands behind his head. “I load up on hot drinks, pull the hood up and pray for a goodnight’s sleep.”

Veronica’s heart drops. She thinks her mouth does too because the realisation that Jughead had been sleeping on the sofa and she in his bed meant him sacrificing something for her. She shakes her head; “No way,” she says. “If you’re cold, you’re crashing with me.”

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me into bed?” he jokes.

“Yes!” she groans. “Pneumonia is a serious thing!”

Jughead chuckles and rearranges his hat, he doesn’t fight back which was just as well because the guilt was killing Veronica. “I’m not one to argue with an actual doctor.”

She throws a cushion at him from across the room.

-------

Jughead pulls the sheets up higher, snuggling in and Veronica mouths the words to the movie. “Snozberries? Who’s ever heard of a Snozberry?... we are the music makers…”

He throws a piece of popcorn at the screen, “Entitlement gets you nowhere, Veruca!”

He continues his never ending commentary that Veronica has grown used to.

“Do you ever feel like you’re always searching for something?” Veronica asks in a lull.

“Is this supposed to be something deep and meaningful?” he asks through a mouth full of soda.

“Yes.”

“It’s too late to be talking this deep, Veronica,” he says with a sigh.

Veronica’s lips almost shimmer under the flashing lights of the TV and Jughead’s eyes seem to linger a little longer on them. For all his flaws, Veronica has found a lot of positives in Jughead. He laughs at her jokes, he appreciates her organisation skills and hates the same things she hates. She understands his cynicism and he agrees with her slightly pessimistic mind. These aside, she’s notices the swell of his lips when he talks too fast, the way he smiles when he’s listening… her attention to detail was sometimes embarrassing, but his attention to her right now was noticeable.

“Are you watching me?” she asks with a mouthful of M&M’s while he watches her talk.

Jughead blushes in the dark room. Red against black pillow covers that now that she thinks about it, don’t feel any different to hers at the Pembrooke after all. “No!” he says a little too quickly.

“You can tell me. You don’t have to be so coy. We’re not playing pretty princesses… Be straight up,” she laughs. She was joking, but the look on his face told her that maybe he wasn’t.

He seems caught off guard. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Veronica throws a piece of chocolate at Jughead’s face that makes him frown at her. “Take it back,” she replies sternly.

“You started it.”

“What?” she scoffs, moving her head to the side to look at him. “Are we ten?”

Jughead rolls his eyes and moves the blanket off him, swinging his legs out of the bed. “If we are, who’s starting the pillow fight? You? Or me?”

Veronica’s breath seems to hitch in her throat but she refuses to back down, throwing a pillow at him. She tries to ignore the dull thud in her chest and the heat in her cheeks but Jughead’s lack of shirt and ridiculous burger printed boxer shorts have her unsure of where to look. “Sometimes I hate you, you know that?”

He takes the pillow that he was laying on and she flicks another M&M at him. “I’m going to sleep in the living room,” he declares. “Pneumonia can take me for all I care.”

“It’s hardly arctic out there at the moment, I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“The common cold is airborne you know. You’ll catch it if you’re not careful.”

She ignores him. “I’m going to sleep here and enjoy the snacks and remind myself why I hate you so much,” she says airily, getting out of the blankets. “But first, I’m going to get me a drink.”

Veronica makes it to the door but she’s blocked in when he moves his frame in front of her. “You don’t hate me,” he says with a smirk, closing in on her so she can’t get through.

Veronica doesn’t even look at him. “Yeah, I do.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

The words feel like electricity through the air. She’s rooted to the spot when she looks up at Jughead, his body lazy and laxed in the door frame but his face is all serious.

Veronica licks her lips and can’t tear her eyes away from him. Her heart seems to be beating so loud in her ears, she tries to read him as best she can, but she’s so unsure. She lets the feelings she tried so hard to hide creep in just a little.

She exhales but before she can take another breath, Jughead tilts her head by the chin and brushes his lips across hers. She smiles against him, she tastes his lips on her tongue.

Jughead leans back, a grin plastered on his face that oozes smugness. “I’ve only waited my entire life for that kiss, Princess,” he says, letting her past.

Veronica rolls her eyes, ignores the blush creeping up her neck but traps Jughead between her body and the wall. She places fingers on the band of his burger printed boxers and tip toes to get her lips on his neck. “A bit dramatic of you, don’t you think Jughead?”

She leaves him there, gets her drink and goes back to the room. The winter wasn’t so cold after all.

Veronica hears Jughead’s sigh from behind the door. Her head tells her this was never supposed to happen. Her heart foresaw it from a mile away.

——

Send me a Jeronica centric ft Barchie prompt and I’ll write you a >1000 word Drabble!

#jeronica #jughead x veronica #veronica x jughead #my words #prompt

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 5 years

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Writing Commission - My Hero Academia - curiosity killed me my dear (but you brought me back)

Author’s Comment: Hello! This story is brought to you through the writing commissions I have opened up which allows you to see that prompt you’ve been holding onto finally written! All the information can be found over on my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter under my Writing Commissions page! Before you do that, though, enjoy the story!

Given Prompt: I would like to commission an expansion on Curiosity Killed Me Dear (But You Brought Me Back) that you wrote in your Patreon Account. … I would like to keep it day-to-day slice of life feel of the fic, essentially the same premise as the suggestion that inspired the short story. I really would like to marinate in what it would like to live with a change like that and how Hizashi and Shouta adapts. Exploring the pros, cons, odd parts, and fun parts with suddenly being half cat with the instincts. Keep it to Hizashi and Shouta POV.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Shinsou Hitoshi, Eri

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 18,155

Transaction Amount: $40 (USD)

Archive Of Our Own Link

⍣ I have a Patreon! Support me!⍣ ☪ I have a tip jar! Buy me a coffee!☪

★★★

curiosity killed me my dear (but you brought me back)

★★★

((Please be careful clicking Read More Now as this is an 18k story.))

“Eraserhead, Present Mic, report.” The words, tinged with the static that always came with calls, burst over the earpiece Shouta had in, disrupting his attempts to count the number of people in the warehouse they were watching by sound alone. “Have you managed to get a rough estimate of how many?” Luckily for him, he had a partner who specialized in sound.

“Hey, now, c’mon, yo! Never doubt the teamwork of Eraserhead and Present Mic!” Hizashi near cackled into his mic, voice boisterous and full of energy even with how quiet he managed to keep himself; something that made Shouta feel as impressed as he did exasperated as he rolled his eyes. “We’ve got sixteen heads in sight and… what? Six down below?”

Taking a moment to enjoy the familiar pressure and warmth as Hizashi leaned against him, Shouta shifted and braced himself against Hizashi, one hand resting on the man’s shoulder as he took another peak into the warehouse. They were hidden up on a fire escape that had seen better years, pressed as close against the warehouse wall as they could get to avoid detection. No one had noticed them yet, but Shouta wasn’t certain that would last for much longer.

“Seven,” Shouta respond to both Hizashi and the rest of their team on standby. He could feel Hizashi’s little wiggle under his hands and knew the man was thinking something along the lines of, Look at how smart my husband is! “Altogether we have twenty-three, as reported, with an estimated dozen children in whatever cellar they managed to carve out. Midnight on standby?”

“She arrived a few minutes ago and is ready to proceed at the signal. Are you two in position to move?”

Shifting to look down at his husband, Shouta gave him a small nudge to get his attention, waiting until he was sure his eyes had adjusted before his hands were signing out a quick, ‘Ready?’

‘As I’ll ever be.’ Hizashi signed back, stealing a soft kiss from Shouta before he was sitting back and winking. ‘Want a distraction before you go in?’

Shouta didn’t have to answer, Hizashi already working at the window they had been leaning against, pushing it up softly enough to not be heard by anyone down below. Shouta leaned back, tapping at his earpiece, mumbling out a soft, “Going in.”

As soon as the words were out, he was slipping through the window and taking to the rafters as silently as he could get away with, scanning the crowd below him. There were only a couple of mutation quirks with the majority seeming to be emitter - something that would be all the better for him. Seeing a flash of blond hair and black leather, Shouta smirked as he lowered his goggles to cover his eyes.

It wasn’t often that he and his husband were able to work together, considering that Shouta was an underground hero and Hizashi was the very definition of a media hero, but there were some cases where their teamwork and ability to communicate and adapt were necessary - although Shouta would like to work on a case with his husband that wasn’t human trafficking for once.

The warehouse they were in had been marked as a villain hideout for weeks, now, but they had only realized it was part of a smuggling ring a few nights ago when they had managed to grab proof. It shouldn’t be surprising that human trafficking was still alive and well so far into human history, especially with the rise of quirks, but it was heartbreaking nonetheless.

Children with promising quirks had long been sought after, captured, bought, and sold off to those who had use of them.

His thoughts were disrupted by his earpiece again, Hizashi’s voice ringing out even as he managed to stay quiet enough for no one in the warehouse to hear him as he crept along the warehouse catwalk. “I don’t know about you all down there, but I think this place is just a little too quiet for my tastes.”

As he talked, Shouta studied the space they were in. Depending on where Hizashi started his attack, Shouta would either be in perfect position to help fight back, or to get the kids out of there before they brought Midnight in. More than one of them were worried about the kids being used as a shield.

“For starters, though, I don’t think I want anyone to miss out on hearing tonight’s show! So, then! Why don’t we get this party started!” Hizashi’s loud voice echoed throughout the warehouse, Shouta hiding a smile against the bands of his binding cloth before he was pushing himself forward and was on the move. If Hizashi was trying to get the attention of everyone in the warehouse, that meant he was trusting Shouta to get the kids out first.

“Hey, hey! I know you all are some rabid fans, but I think it would be a little polite if you backed off!” The last two works were filled with Hizashi’s quirk, pure sound blasting across the room and sending a few of the unprepared ones to their knees. Shouta, already used to sudden loud noises in battle, winced minimally before using the moment to wrap some bands around a metal pillar and swing himself down towards the backroom where the door was ajar.

A quick count showed everyone in the warehouse was now charging at Hizashi or getting ready to. If this was at the start of their career then Shouta would have been worried, but as it was, he ducked into the room and pressed his back against the wall, a high-pitched whistle shooting through the room and knocking out everyone’s balance besides his and Hizashi’s.

“Remind me to thank support for these new earpieces managing to block out you,” Shouta mumbled loud enough to be picked up by the comms as he tapped them to activate, grinning when he heard Hizashi’s bright laughter followed by a cheerful shout, the second part of his attack that was crowd focused. By now everyone was either on the floor or, if they were lucky, unconscious - which meant Shouta wasted no time in closing the door and looking to were rough stairs were carved down into the ground. “Heads up, we have someone with an earth shifting quirk.”

Grabbing a flashlight from his belt, Shouta quickly edged his way down the stairs, lighting up the area to see that it was filled with terrified children that ranged in ages, but couldn’t be older than ten or eleven. The younger ones had been shoved to the back and the older ones were staring at him with wide, scared eyes even as they looked ready to fight. It was as heartwarming as it was heartbreaking.

Tapping his earpiece, Shouta spoke quickly. “I have sight of the children. Eighteen of them in an underground space carved out under the warehouse. More than we thought.” They thought there had only been a dozen, but apparently the villains upstairs had been busy. It was nice to hear Hizashi’s screams get louder. “Show of hands, who here knows about Present Mic?”

While the older kids shared looks and kept glaring at him, the younger ones raised their hands, one girl looking excited and near jumping up and down as she raised her hand in the air as high as possible. Shouta couldn’t stop at least a small smile, keeping his voice soft, “Then you know about his quirk, Voice. All that screaming upstairs? That’s him. Him, me, and some other heroes are all here to help get you home.”

“Prove it.” The child who seemed to be the oldest spoke up, taking a step forward and looking ready to fight for the others. “I know pro heroes and you don’t look like any hero I know!”

“Hey, yo, Eraserhead, what’s it lookin’ like down there? Cause I dunno about you, but I’d rather not collapse the warehouse on a bunch of kids.”

“Hang on,” Shouta responded before pulling down his goggles and digging out his hero license, holding it out to the kid in front of him and waiting patiently for him to creep close enough to read it by the light of the flashlight. “I’m an underground hero, see? I also teach at U.A. in the Heroics course.”

“Oh! You’re the Mummy Man from the Sports Festival!” A little four or five-year-old shouted, running over to him and latching onto him before Shouta could respond. She no doubt had only just received her quirk judging by how young she was. “Do you fight with bandages?” Little hands tugged at one of the bands of his cloth, Shouta trying his hardest not to snort as he put his license away.

“Something like that. We good?” Shouta asked, looking back to the eldest, who gave a quick nod of his head. Giving a nod of his own, Shouta tapped at his earpiece. “We’re good. Beginning to escort them out, now. We’re in a room pressed against the back of the warehouse on the northwest corner. Make us an exit.”

“Understood. Present Mic, backup will arrive as soon as the children are clear of the building.” Unsettling, but necessary. Better to let the traffickers think there was only one pro there. “Eraserhead, we’re en route to your location.”

“Roger. Alright, you lot, let’s go.” Shouta quickly stood and began ushering the children out and up the stairs, keeping an eye on the door that led back to the rest of the warehouse even as one of the pros began tearing down the outside wall of the warehouse like it was paper. He was new to the scene, but he was popular enough to have children flocking towards him at once in trust.

“We’re almost done, Mic,” Shouta said over the comms, ducking back down into the cavern to make sure all the children had climbed out. “Hang on just another minute or two-”

“Thank you, Mummy Man!” Shouta blinked as the little girl, the youngest of the lot, waved at him as she was the last to be led away.

“Did I just hear a little kid call you Mummy Man?” Hizashi sounded absolutely delighted and Shouta huffed to cover up his laugh.

“Just focus on the fight. How many left?”

“Twelve left in fighting condition- Yo, fuckin’ watch where you throw those things you ninja rip off piece of shit!” Another slew of swears burst out over the comms and Shouta was mildly glad that this was an undercover mission instead of Hizashi’s usual city fights that always made the news. There was a reason Hizashi’s shows were usually late at night. “Eleven left.”

“Backup is on the way in. Let’s take this lot down.” Shouta pulled his goggles back up and crept back into the main part of the warehouse, taking stock of the situation quickly. A quick twist of his bands snagged one of the eleven left who had been looking at Hizashi and left him immobile, Shouta activating his quirk and watching the panic in the man’s eyes before Shouta was pulling him in and rendering him unconscious with a quick punch to the face.

“Ten left,” Shouta said over the comms, purely to hear Hizashi’s bright laugh. Looking back to the others, who hadn’t even noticed one of their allies going down, Shouta smirked and readied his weapon again. There were definitely benefits to working with a media hero who took up all the attention in the room.

The arrival of the other heroes served to wrap up the fight even quicker, Shouta taking down another one before glancing over to see that pros were quickly restraining the traffickers with cuffs and bands, Nemuri moving between them to knock them out with a dose of her gas.

Overall the warehouse raid was a success, Shouta letting himself relax when he failed to spot anymore stray quirks or fighting. Hizashi seemed to come to the same conclusion the fight was over, waving at Shouta from across the room with a loud shout. “Eraser! Let’s go get something to eat after this!”

Tapping his earpiece, because Shouta was not in the mood for shouting across a warehouse teeming with activity, Shouta rolled his eyes with a soft, “We have paperwork, after this.” The pout was easy to see even from across the room. “We’ll do takeout.” There were a few stray laughs considering they were on comms so everyone could hear, but Hizashi’s smile was worth the embarrassment.

“Alright!” Hizashi started to shout something else over to him, but the words faded into a low buzzing in the back of his head as Shouta saw a flash of movement over Hizashi’s shoulder. He took a second too long to identify what it was before Hizashi was screaming not with his quirk, but with pain, dropping to the floor as if he was a puppet with broken strings.

“Hizashi!” The cry came from him and Nemuri both, Shouta’s eyes locking onto a man that had a hand pressed against Hizashi’s back and was grinning far too smugly. The count had been wrong - their information had been wrong because there was no physical description that matched the man in front of them which meant they didn’t know what his quirk could do. That didn’t mean Shouta couldn’t stop it, though.

The burning in his eyes began the moment his quirk activated, the man stumbling back and looking off balance before his eyes widened. Shouta made sure he didn’t have time to recover before his binding cloth was wrapping around him, dragging him to the ground even as he shouted at Nemuri, “Knock him out, now!”

A burst of Nemuri’s sleeping gas and the man was going limp within the binding cloth, Shouta taking only a moment to make sure there was no more movement besides breathing before he was untangling himself and running to Hizashi’s side, bending down and aching to touch, but resisting only just. “Hizashi? Hizashi, c’mon, Sunshine, look at me. What’s wrong?”

There was a soft mumble; a sound far too soft for someone as loud and bright as Hizashi. Shouta didn’t have too long to panic, however, before Hizashi’s voice croaked out a quiet, “Bad. Worse than the hangover after our third anniversary.”

Feeling tension drain out of him at the teasing tone, Shouta only let his sigh shake before he was carefully helping Hizashi out of his curled-up position and onto his side so he could start to sit up. Instead of relief at seeing his husband was okay, though, Shouta felt his heart almost stutter to a stop, burning and dryness of his eyes near forgotten as he stared at Hizashi.

“Damn, that fuckin’ hurt,” Hizashi grumbled, pushing himself up weakly before Shouta watched him pause, looking at him with a frown before he was reaching up slowly and tugging down Shouta’s goggles that he had forgotten about. “Shou? I don’t like that look. What’s wrong?”

“Shouta? Is Hizashi… Oh.” Nemuri trailed off and stared, Shouta watching Hizashi look confused before he swayed, Shouta’s reflexes reacting at once to catch him the moment he dropped. “Hey! We need medical over here! And ID this one’s quirk, now!”

As Nemuri shouted for assistance, Shouta wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry as he stared down at where Yamada-Aizawa Hizashi, collapsed in his arms, had what was clearly cat ears the color of his hair with a tail to match, ears collapsed backwards against his skull in what was pain or agitation while the tail lashed through the air, Hizashi groaning out a soft, “No take out, then?”

“No,” Shouta responded, slowly moving to sit on the floor himself. “I don’t think the hospital is gonna allow me to bring in take out.” Hizashi’s groan seemed to sum up the situation perfectly. “Don’t worry. You’ll be alright.”

Even as he said the words, Shouta swallowed as he felt Hizashi collapse more against him, no doubt passing out from a mix of the hard fight and the pain of whatever the quirk he was hit with had done to him. It was no doubt temporary, but… Shouta had a bad feeling.

Thankfully it didn’t take them long to get to the nearest hospital and, since Hizashi was a pro hero injured while on duty, he was seen as soon as a doctor was available. All in all, it took less than an hour since check in for Hizashi to be seen, looked over, and for the specifics of the quirk to arrive.

Animal Morph. The police had ID’d the man not long after they had arrived at the hospital and the quirk was a powerful one, in its own right. It was a morphing quirk that forced the person’s body to revert into the species of the last animal they had come into contact with and with Hizashi that meant their pet cats at home that had been sleeping on him before they got the call that the raid was about to begin.

The dangerous part of the quirk, Shouta had found out, was that all changes, complete or otherwise, were permanent. The reason Hizashi was only halfway shifted and not an actual cat was because Shouta had interrupted the process halfway through with his own quirk. It could have been a blessing, but it also meant that Hizashi was now stuck in a body that in no way could feel like his.

Shouta could tell that Hizashi was anxious and overwhelmed by the news and his now empty hospital room in the way he was playing with his hair, long ago fallen out of his ‘Present Mic style’ and hanging around him in ruffled, knotted waves. A quick pat down and Shouta managed to dig his phone out, flipping to one of Hizashi’s more favored songs that he often played when needing something to focus on besides whatever was running around in his head. Shouta heard a shaking breath slip out of Hizashi as he set the phone down, but a glance up showed that he at least no longer looked ready to fall apart.

“You know,” Hizashi finally managed, trying to be cheerful. “I thought you would be more excited by this.” Looking up at Hizashi properly, Shouta tried to figure out how the hell Hizashi could be so calm in a situation like this. “C’mon, Shou-chan, am I not a good enough kitty for you?”

“Is this really the time to be making jokes?” Shouta muttered, trying to focus on his anger at the situation rather than the worry and fear he could already feel clawing at him.

“Are you kidding? This is the best time for jokes! Hey, you think the Wild, Wild Pussycats will ask me to be a part of their group, now? Because I’ll have you know that Sosaki-san wanted me to join when we were all still in school! She said I would look cute with the ears, which, now we have proof that I do, but I turned her down because, hello, if I’m going to be part of a hero group it would be with you, Nemuri, and Tensei, yo. Hey! What if we formed a duo? I mean, I know you shot me down, like, twenty times before, but I really think-”

Listening to Hizashi ramble and ramble and ramble like he always did when he was scared, Shouta finally snapped out a desperate, “Hizashi.” Pretending like this was all okay was only going to make it hurt worse later.

Instead of responding properly, Hizashi instead shifted on the hospital bed until he was sitting on the side and freeing up space, looking at Shouta with hopeful eyes. They had been confined to hospital beds enough times over their careers that Shouta didn’t even hesitate, instead climbing into Hizashi’s bed and too afraid to touch him and cause any unexpected pain. At least one of the doctors had mentioned an increase in sensitivity.

“You, my hero, take the blame for things that aren’t your fault far too much,” Hizashi said softly, a tired smile on his face as if he didn’t realize this was all Shouta’s fault. “Shouta… I would be a lot worse off right now if you hadn’t stopped that quirk when you did.”

“It’s because of me that you’re half cat.” Shouta didn’t shout, but it was a close thing. As it was, he could only stare up at where Hizashi’s ears were now cat ears, furry, pointed, and on the top of his head. The tail to match was curled around Hizashi’s waist as if even he didn’t know how his body language screamed scared.

It was in the way the tail curled closer, the ears folded back for a few moments, and Hizashi began tugging at his hair again, picking out another knot that no doubt wasn’t even there. It felt like an eternity before Hizashi looked back at him.

“Shouta,” Hizashi said softly - so softly. Shouta couldn’t have stopped himself from looking away if he had tried. “Shouta. This is not your fault. Our information was wrong. It was as simple as that.”

Ready to argue because this actually was his fault this time, Shouta instead snapped his mouth shut as Hizashi’s palms lightly slapped against his cheeks, forcing him to hold still and making him unable to properly look away as Hizashi continued, “No. You’re the one who’s always saying how much of a ‘genius’ or whatever I am, right? With the information we were given and the measures we took, we did everything right, Shouta. I’ve run over everything in my head a hundred times since I got pretty much shackled to this bed-”

“You are not shackled to the bed, Hizashi,” Shouta interrupted, Hizashi just raising his voice to compensate.

“Since I was spiritually chained to this bed!” Ah, his ridiculous husband… “There were only two ways this could end, Shouta, and I think I prefer the option where I’m not stuck as a complete cat.”

Shouta was silent, finally mumbling what had been playing on repeat in his head since they had arrived, “I should have reacted quicker. If I had, then you wouldn’t be here like this.”

“You did everything right, baby,” Hizashi sighed, tugging Shouta closer and bracing their foreheads together, Shouta relaxing at the touch and moving to tangle his fingers with Hizashi’s, earning a gentle squeeze back. “Now, really, you’re allowed to show a bit of excitement about this.”

“I’m not obsessed with cats like you seem to think I am,” Shouta scoffed, pulling back after a few more moments of enjoying the contact. He shifted a little to get more comfortable, trying not to admit that he might have been studying the cat ears just a little.

“Mhm,” Hizashi hummed, completely disbelieving as the song Shouta had turned on finally ended. Reaching over, Shouta grabbed the phone, flicking through until he started the playlist that Hizashi had been favoring at home lately. “You can touch them, you know.”

It took a moment to realize what Hizashi meant, but when he did, Shouta felt his fingers twitch just enough to give him away. “Hizashi-”

“Please?” Hizashi asked quietly, looking away when he saw Shouta’s surprise. “I just… really need you to act like everything is normal right now, Sho.”

Hizashi, still looking away, sat perfectly still and silent. It was a look that didn’t suit him and Shouta was moving before he could even fully think it through, reaching a hand up and lightly skimming his fingers down the edge of one of the ears, grinning at the soft, sleek fur that rubbed back against his fingers. He repeated the motion a couple of times before he noticed something that almost had him laughing.

“Are you… purring?” Shouta asked, Hizashi finally tilting his head to look back at him. Shouta couldn’t stop a grin as he rubbed a bit harder. “As if the cats needed any more reason to love you more than me.”

“It’s because I feed them the good cat food!” Hizashi laughed, Shouta feeling something inside him finally start to uncoil. There was no doubt that things would be difficult for a while, but at least they would be okay.

It took until evening the next day, but Hizashi was finally released from the hospital and the two were able to make it home with a slew of aftercare instructions and checkup appointments and the knowledge that Hizashi had been given a week off from not only his pro hero work, but also his teaching and the radio station. It didn’t take much to tell that Hizashi was aggravated at the fussing and Shouta had no doubt that forced leave from all three of his jobs was driving him crazy.

“I’ll be fine, Shouta!” Which is how they made it to where Hizashi was trying to reassure Shouta who was very seriously debating calling in sick for his usual night patrol that he was supposed to leave for; soon. “I’m safe at home with doctor issued pain meds if anything gets too overwhelming!”

“Right.” Shouta looked to where Hizashi’s tail was lashing through the air and his ears were pressed back against his head. His entire posture was tense and it was years of knowing Hizashi, and years of knowing cats, that made it easy to see Hizashi was reaching his tolerance limit. “Hizashi.”

Hizashi twitched before some of the tension leaked out of him, the man shuffling forward and dropping his head so it was resting on Shouta’s shoulder. Shouta was wrapping his arms around him at once, frowning at Hizashi’s shudder before he remembered the increased sensitivity.

“If you need time to yourself to adjust then that’s fine,” Shouta finally said quietly, running a hand through Hizashi’s hair. “You don’t need to lie to me and say you’re alright.” Whatever remaining tension was left seemed to drain out of Hizashi, the man near collapsed completely against him as Shouta held him just like always; just like he always would. “Don’t overdo it with whatever you’re planning.”

There was a muffled snort and Shouta gave a pleasant shiver as he felt lips pressed against the edge of his jaw. “I’ll take it easy,” Hizashi said softly. “I just want to do a few tests of my own to see what changed.” Hizashi pulled back, staring at Shouta before leaning in to give him a soft kiss, Shouta feeling some of his own worries and tension drain out. “Go on then, hero.”

“I’ll be back at my usual,” Shouta said, pulling Hizashi back in for another kiss that turned deeper with just the slightest tilt of his head, smothering Hizashi’s worries and complaints until the man was giving a soft whimper that had Shouta pulling back before he could forget that he really did have a patrol to do. “I’ll be back.”

“You had better,” Hizashi mumbled, giving him a fleeting kiss before pulling out of his arms, some of his unease soothed away to show a softer smile. “I’ll be okay, hero. I have something to keep me busy, after all.”

If nothing else, Shouta supposed, at least he knew that Hizashi would see this condition as a new project. He just really hoped Hizashi didn’t get carried away with any of his ‘tests.’

★★★

It took two minutes before Shouta was out of hearing range. It took two minutes and three seconds before Hizashi punched the wall of their living room with more force than he should have, a shaking breath hissed out through his clenched teeth as he stared at the spiderweb cracks that spread out from the impact. His knuckles were already burning and red and Hizashi could only hope that Shouta wouldn’t ask when he noticed later.

“Right,” Hizashi mumbled to himself, feeling how his ears twitched at the sound of his voice. He knew his voice hadn’t changed, a small mercy, but the sound was different to him in a way that he couldn’t yet explain. It didn’t help that even more noises were layered overtop the sound of his not-quite-changed-but-might-as-well-have-changed voice.

There was the sound of ticking antique clocks that were just a step out of tune with each other, there was the drip-drip-drip of the faucet from the bathroom, and there was a sharp, vibrating buzz of electricity zipping through the wall. If it was even just one of those sounds then maybe he could have adjusted and been alright, but there was just so much.

Sucking in a slow breath, Hizashi absently rubbed his sore knuckles as he took a moment to center himself. He knew it hadn’t done much, but it was the thought that counted. He hoped.

“Right,” Hizashi repeated to himself again, forcing a smile on his face as he saw Snowball, their largest and friendliest cat, wander into the room curiously. “I guess we can check off improved hearing on my list of things to test, huh?”

Snowball’s meow was a near screech as always, Hizashi snorting and bending down to scratch the silly thing behind the ears. “At least now I know why you like this so much,” Hizashi teased, laughing as Snowball purred like an engine before flopping over and looking up at him cutely. “I don’t suppose I changed enough to understand you or you understand me?”

There was a moment where Hizashi was well and truly hopeful that his cat was about to whisper some secret on how he truly felt about him, but then the screeching meows returned and Hizashi didn’t need to speak cat to know Snowball was asking for more scratches.

“Check that one off the list, too, then,” Hizashi snorted, giving Snowball one last scratch before standing up and nervously dusting himself off. “Right. Time to get to work, then.”

Hizashi was a media hero and could be silly, but he also had a fondness for engineering and lists, so it wasn’t too hard to make a list and keep track of the changes he noticed as the night went on.

The first, of course, had been his hearing. He no longer needed his hearing aids, which was as thrilling as it was terrifying, and he heard more sounds than he could ever remember hearing. The way he heard also reminded him of surround sound headphones, but not in a bad way. No, the bad part of it was that Support was still trying to figure out how to make headphones that would protect his even more sensitive ears from his quirk. Hizashi was, too, but so far he hadn’t had any luck, either, besides toying with the idea of earbuds.

The second change he really took note of was his sight. He still needed his glasses, sadly, but it had changed to where movement was sharper and clearer than things that were stationary. There was a word for it, but Hizashi was mostly focused on the fact he now had night vision and would now be able to make it to the bathroom at night without waking up Shouta too badly. There were also some color differences, but Hizashi had no idea how to explain it beyond different.

The next was taste because Hizashi had gotten hungry and then he realized that his tongue was different; or at least, the taste buds were. He was relieved beyond all measure to find that he didn’t have barbs on his tongue, at least, and for more reason than one, although he noticed his teeth were, well, not exactly human-like anymore. They weren’t monstrous, but they were definitely sharp. It wasn’t likely anyone would notice too much when he talked, but his smiles were going to be more terrifying than Shouta’s.

Those were at least all of the major changes, he had noticed. Everything else was… not small, but easier to adjust to. He couldn’t exactly test his quirk when he was at home with the cats, but he remembered he had purred involuntarily in the hospital, so he could probably make other cat noises - not that he couldn’t before, but it might be easier, now, he mused.

His balance seemed better, but it was hard to tell without something like a sparring match, which wouldn’t be for another week since he had been given leave from all three of his jobs and put on bad rest. Other than that his nails were slightly sharper, he felt more sensitive to touch, and smells were so much stronger - which wasn’t a bad thing, he found, when he wrapped himself up in one of Shouta’s night shirts before bed and found that the scent near drowned him.

Overall, after a couple hours of adjusting on his own without any nurses or doctors or worried husbands, Hizashi realized that his new changes weren’t all that bad. Different, perhaps, but he just needed to think of it like a new quirk.

A new quirk wasn’t much of a bad thought.

At least, it wasn’t until he realized just what this new quirk of his really meant over the following week.

It would have been fine if he maybe had almost any other quirk, but having his body change - having his ears and vocal folds change - when his quirk was Voice? It was a disaster and he couldn’t even test how much.

Shouta had been hovering and worried, but Hizashi could barely fake a smile around him because he was still on his week-long lockdown and he couldn’t do anything.

He couldn’t go on patrols or even test his limits or his quirk without the equipment he would need to protect his ears. He couldn’t grade or work on his lessons plans or do any paperwork at all without getting a headache because he had yet to get new glasses and every time he tried to read the words would just blur. He couldn’t even go to the radio station and prepare for his show because everything was too much.

Hizashi couldn’t even walk in a straight line without his completely screwed balance forcing him to walk into a wall or trip over something he hadn’t noticed; one trip having been because of his tail; and hadn’t that been fun to feel pain from a limb he hadn’t had in all of his previous years of living.

The situation could have at least been salvaged if he and Shouta could joke about it, but an explosion of crime had been picking up across the city and even with all of his free time Hizashi barely saw his husband. On top of all that, as if it wasn’t bad enough, they could barely touch without Hizashi feeling overwhelmed.

So, as if he wasn’t pathetic enough, Hizashi was collapsed on the bedroom floor in a pile of his clothes, bitter tears streaming down his face as cool air and nothing else pressed against his skin.

It wasn’t like this was his first time with sensory overload, but he was usually able to put on some soft shirts and relax somewhere until everything started calming down. Now, though, he couldn’t even do that because everything he owned was either too rough or just didn’t fit. All of his clothes were tailored and, with all the changes Hizashi’s body had gone through, they didn’t fit.

And, as if to make it worse, instead of sighing and going to get new clothes, because between him and Shouta and the five jobs they worked they could certainly afford it, he was crying like it was the end of the world.

It wasn’t even the clothes that were the problem. He knew it wasn’t. It was just the final shattering from the pressure that had been weighing down on him since this whole mess had begun.

He could have adjusted if it was just little changes or even some changes, but the fact his hearing had changed; he was afraid to use his quirk again. There was a reason he used to need hearing aids and now, as a thirty-one-year-old pro hero, he was terrified to ever use his quirk again. Everything else was just the icing on top.

“‘Zashi?” Hearing Shouta’s voice in the doorway, and too tired to try and pretend it was all okay to the man who knew him better than anyone, especially after his week, Hizashi only kept glaring down at the clothes on the floor around him, tears rolling down his cheeks. “You know, usually it’s me destroying the closet trying to find something.”

“They don’t fit,” Hizashi mumbled, hoping that would be enough to explain why he was on the floor now made of clothes while crying and wearing nothing but a pair of new boxers that allowed for his new tail. “None of them fit.”

“Then we can go shopping,” Shouta said, no hint of pause or hesitance in his words. Just a simple solution for what was a simple problem. “You love shopping and now you can try even more clothes that you couldn’t before, and whatever you really want to save we can get altered to fit you again. Right?”

Hizashi flinched as he felt his tail lash out and thwap against his skin, reminding him that it wasn’t just the clothes that was his problem. “I can barely walk a straight line because everything is different. How am I supposed to patrol, to fight, like this?”

“Easy. We’ll train more until we figure out a new way for you, like we did when I couldn’t use my binding cloth as well.” The memory of Shouta re-learning new ways to use his quirk and binding cloth after USJ had Hizashi giving a small shudder before he noticed Shouta’s voice was closer, Hizashi finally looking up only to have fabric dropping over his head, Shouta pushing and nudging at him for a minute until Hizashi was soon wearing an overly large sweater that was soft and warm and settled the restless itching of his skin.

Tucking his hands into the sleeves of the sweater, Hizashi felt like little more than a pathetic child as Shouta wiped his cheeks clean softly. Shouta shouldn’t have to worry about this when there was already so much on his plate-

“Hey,” Shouta scolded, pinching at his cheek and causing Hizashi to whine before he even fully realized it. “Your thoughts are as loud as you. No blaming yourself.”

“I’m not- I should be able to control this. It’s a lot of changes, yeah, but it’s not- This shouldn’t be so overwhelming!”

“We knew it was going to be difficult to adjust,” Shouta said softly, Hizashi hating it and then immediately hating himself and why was it so much? “We’ll get through this, ‘Zashi, just like we have everything else.”

“Shouta…” The clothes would easy to fix. The physical training would be harder, but it was nothing Hizashi hadn’t done before. The little things like the new ears and tail he could learn to be okay with, but… “I can’t use my quirk like this.”

His vocal folds had changed and they had no idea if his quirk was going to be more powerful or less powerful because of it. There was no way to even test it with his new ears, bulky and awkward and too dangerous around loud noises. If Hizashi wasn’t careful, then he could go completely deaf with just one scream. He had been hard of hearing before, but he had still been able to hear, and his hearing aids had been made to restore almost full sound. The idea of going completely deaf and never being able to properly use his quirk again without risking damage and harm was too awful a thought.

“And since when has a quirk decided who you are?” Shouta’s hand settled on his jaw before lifting his head up, Shouta’s entire focus solely on him. “How many fights have you been in where you won and didn’t use your quirk?”

“I- Those were specialized cases or training exercises or times where I just got lucky, Shouta, it doesn’t mean-”

“And since when did you need your quirk in order to do your show? As far as I remember, they hate when you use your quirk on your show; and you hate it because it damages the equipment.”

Hizashi bit his lip, silently conceding that he did have a point with that, at least. Hizashi didn’t need to use his quirk to still be a DJ, which he would be able to go back to as soon as all his sensitivity went down.

“You also don’t need your quirk to teach your students. In fact, I think they’ll appreciate that you can only scream at them normally when they fall asleep instead of quirk screaming at them-”

“It was one time and that little punk had it coming,” Hizashi defended himself, slightly startled when Shouta’s hands tangled with his, palms clasped together and grip tight on his own. For the first time in days, it felt like Hizashi could breathe again. “Shouta…”

“Since when did you ever need your quirk to be Yamada Hizashi?” Shouta gave him a soft, fond smile, bumping their foreheads together and startling Hizashi into giving a wet laugh. “This isn’t the end of the world, Sunshine. Isn’t that what you told me all those months ago?”

Ah, but he had forgotten. Hizashi wasn’t alone in dealing with all of this. It wasn’t pleasant, and it would probably never be pleasant, but he wasn’t alone. He really had been having a bad week if he had forgotten that.

“Maybe, but you said it better.” Hizashi tilted his head up to give Shouta a chaste kiss, fears and worries chased away by Shouta once again. “At least I’m even better looking than before, right?”

As he had hoped, Shouta let out an actual laugh, shaking his head as he tugged at Hizashi’s left hand, tangling their fingers together before brushing his lips against his wedding ring, Hizashi feeling his heart skip a beat even though they had been together for years. At this point, they had known each other for a little over half their lives, and yet Shouta still always managed to make him so flustered.

“We’ll get through this, Sunshine, just like we’ve always done. Together.” For the first time since the raid gone wrong, Hizashi felt something in him finally settle.

“Oh, what the hell, that’s so unfair! You can’t just swoop in and sweep me off my feet like that, Shouta, that’s unfair! Stop being unfair!” This time, the tears weren’t bitter as Shouta laughed brightly.

As sweet as Shouta’s words, though, that didn’t mean everything solved itself instantly.

Once his week of being quarantined was up Hizashi had thrown himself back into his usual routines to prove that everything was great and he could handle the changes that had happened to him, which would have been great if it were true.

“You were unconscious! You’re supposed to be a long-distance fighter so please, I’m begging you, how do you end up allowing a jewelry thief close enough to knock you out with a punch?!” Hizashi loved his interns at the radio station, truly, he did, but sometimes he wished they had an off switch. Especially Suki.

“Hey, Suki-chan, I know you’re hyped up on about five different kinds of energy drinks, but could you maybe lower your volume just a little tiny bit while I wallow in my grief and exhaustion?” Hizashi aimed for a dramatic tone of voice, but most of it just came out tired as he leaned back in his comfortable office chair in his recording booth and pressed the ice pack he had scrounged up against the black eye he had acquired a few hours ago while on patrol.

“I would, but Aizawa-san said that I’m allowed to be cruel when I think you deserve it, and I think you definitely deserve it if you’re doing hero work after everything!” Suki’s yelling had Hizashi’s ears twitching, the sensation starting to become familiar; or, at least, Hizashi was able to appreciate when he could press his new ears down against his head and block out some of the noise. “He also sent a message that he would be here to walk you home.”

Hizashi groaned and sunk down in his chair even more, mostly due to guilt about throwing himself back into his hero work when he really shouldn’t have, and partly because his husband was the most adorable, stubborn man in all of the world.

As if the man could read minds, which Hizashi wouldn’t put past him, his phone buzzed with a new message. He still had half an hour until the playlist ended and he would have to go back on air for a segment, but for the moment it was all too easy to toss his ice pack, now melted, onto the floor and away from any cords as he grabbed his phone.

‘Takada says you’re being an irresponsible idiot. What did you do?’ It took a moment to find his new glasses and shove them on so he could actually read the text, but when he did he was immediately glaring over at Suki where she was monitoring the show and equipment from the outside of the booth, the line open and window clear.

“Are you a spy of my husband?” Instead of a proper answer, Suki pointedly drank from a container of coffee that came from one of the more expensive coffee stores in their part of town. ‘How dare you turn my interns against me!!! Now I must purge them!!!’ “Now you’re getting the cheap American brand of coffee come Christmas!”

‘You wouldn’t dare you care too much.’ Aah, Shouta knew him so well! ‘And Takada would become a super villain and give you even more work.’ So very, very well.

‘Ah, yes, the true reason to keep her employed. It has nothing to do with how fond you’ve become of her. How’s patrol?’

‘Fine.’ Staring down at the single word text, Hizashi showed his displeasure with a slew of emojis. Shouta may have been a man of few words, but that was ridiculous even for him. ‘How’s the station?’

‘Fine.’ There, see? Hizashi could do it, too! ‘Except I hate my new glasses they’re curved all weird because of the LACK OF EARS where there should normally be ears like if my vision was going to change why couldn’t it get just good enough to not need glasses this is horrible Shou-chan I’m dying and it’s all over for me.’

As soon as the message was sent, Hizashi looked down at his phone, sighed, leaned back, made sure his tail was out of the way of his office chair wheels because once was far more than enough, and then held his phone out and accepted the call that popped up before it could even fully ring. “You, sweet Starlight, are far too predictable.”

“Glad to know it goes both ways.” As it always had and no doubt always would, Shouta’s voice had something in Hizashi uncoiling as he slumped down in his seat even more. Even his bruise seemed to ache and burn less - which was a definite improvement. “And Takada didn’t turn anymore spy than usual. Nemuri sent me some news clips from today.”

“Ah.” Hizashi was surprised there was any room left to sink down, but he still managed it, playing with the earbuds around his neck that he had slowly been getting used to. Any ideas on actual headphones had been scrapped for his new ears, but Hizashi and the Support workers he could bribe had been playing around with the idea of earbuds and ear plugs that would seal the ears as soon as his quirk reached harmful decibels. “I don’t suppose the excuse of-”

“No, it wouldn’t work.” Shouta sounded a mixture of tired and amused, with, thank god, amusement winning out. “The condition of being back on patrol meant you were supposed to be careful, not run into every fist you see.”

“I was being careful!” Hizashi whined, drawing out the words to make Shouta laugh and Suki twitch and yell at him to stop being annoying. “I think the plugs still need some work, though. They didn’t fail, but they felt uncomfortable as hell.”

If he were being honest with himself, which he tried not to be too often, the plugs were a big reason of why he had been so distracted with his capture that day. He was still adjusting to the overwhelming noise of the city and, well, being a media hero… He was caught off guard more than he wanted to be.

There was a soft laugh from Shouta over the phone, Hizashi wishing he could hold it up to his ear to hear the sound even better like he used to. There were still so many things to adjust to. “At least you kept up on your physical training from what Nemuri showed me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I can punch my students,” Hizashi snorted, rubbing at his eyes for a moment. “I’d love to, though, Shouta, I really, really, really would. A lot of them are idiots, Shouta, and while some of them are cute, well-meaning idiots, they’re still idiots.”

There was more laughter coming from Shouta and Hizashi soaked up the sound like he would a favorite song of his. In a way, Shouta’s laughter was his favorite song. “I’m serious, Shou-chan! It’s not like the teachers are any better, either! Don’t get me wrong, I love Yagi-san, but he’s so…” Trailing off, Hizashi was torn as his lips screwed up into something between a grimace and a grin. “How much of a hypocrite would I be if I said he was loud?”

“Incredibly. Not so easy now that you can’t just turn your hearing aids down, huh?” Aah, so Shouta had known about that. “Did Nezu say anything?”

“Not much. Welcomed me back, was glad to see I was doing alright, and told me to let him know if I need any help or more time off or something like that. Apparently he’s just been waiting for me to use up my sick days- Don’t laugh at that! You’re even worse than I am!”

Hearing tapping on the glass window, Hizashi flicked his gaze up to see Suki looking expectant before calling out, “Unless you wanna broadcast you being all sweet and loving with Aizawa-san, then you might want to hang up. We’re live in five minutes.”

“I don’t wanna go back on,” Hizashi whined, clutching his phone as if Suki would come in and take it away from him. He wouldn’t put it past her, the little gremlin. “Let me talk to my husband in peace!”

Hizashi’s dramatics were awarded with another one of Shouta’s low chuckles before he was speaking again. “Go on. I’ll still hear you. I always do.”

“Yo, what the hell, you can’t be that sweet when I’m at that station, Shou-chan, we’ve talked about this! The last thing I need to do is cry live on air!”

“I’ll see you later tonight, Sunshine.” The words were nothing less than a promise and Hizashi knew he was now going to be distracted for the rest of his show. He loved it. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Shouta,” Hizashi said softly, ending the call and adjusting his earbuds to catch the last song on his setlist. Getting ready to flip himself over to his microphone, Hizashi took a moment to calm himself down.

While his eye was still throbbing and his ice pack had only lasted for so long, this, hosting his show and connecting to an audience that loved to listen, was something he would always be able to do.

Hero work, however…

The next few patrols after his first one back showed that he desperately needed more training, both to focus on new ways to use his quirk and to improve his hand-to-hand combat.

He didn’t expected that to lead to him gasping for breath on the floor in one of the school gyms, struggling to try and remember that he wasn’t going to die and that his friends had no understanding of the word mercy.

“You’re doing great, Hizashi, you just need to move faster next time!” Tilting his head back just enough to glare at Tensei, Hizashi flipped him off. “That’s what your husband is for!”

“Oh, yeah, move faster coming from the one in the wheelchair,” Hizashi grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes when Tensei only laughed. “Moving with an entirely new body is harder than it looks, you know!”

Groaning when his side was nudged with a familiar boot, Hizashi squinted up at Nemuri before frowning. “Why are you crooked?”

“That would be your goggles, baby, not me-”

“Are you saying you’re not crooked, Nems? We all know that out of all of us you’d be the super villain-”

As Tensei and Nemuri started fighting, as always, Hizashi smiled tiredly as Shouta knelt and adjusted Hizashi’s goggles - the only solution they had when it came to his poor vision. His new curved glasses may have worked when he was at home or at the station, but not so much when he needed to fight.

“Looks like we’re matching more and more,” Hizashi joked, accepting the hand to help pull him up. “How am I doing so far?”

“Better,” Shouta smiled. “Much better. How are your ears? Any problems so far?” Before Hizashi could answer, he felt Shouta lightly rubbing at his ears, Hizashi feeling the rumble in his throat that signified he was purring. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“You’re just lucky you’re cute,” Hizashi managed to mutter, not even trying to fight the delightful feeling. “I dunno, my normal attacks cause more pain than they should, but I can still use the high range set. Echolocation, disorientation, everything infrasonic, basically.”

Shouta hummed, looking thoughtful as he dropped his hand and tugged at the bands of his binding cloth. He probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it, which made it all the cuter. “You were starting to have trouble with your more powerful attacks, anyways.”

“Yeah,” Hizashi sighed, trying to make it as dramatic as possible as he collapsed against Shouta’s front, stretching his arms out over the man’s shoulders and nuzzling at the cloth where he would usually be pressing kisses against bare skin. “We always knew my career had a time limit, I guess.”

Shouta gave another soft hum, a hand moving to play with the ends of his hair that he had pulled out of the way in a simple ponytail. While he loved his usual Present Mic look, it had been destroyed considering his ears and new skin sensitivity. Half his classes still couldn’t recognize him in the halls, now, and Nemuri had held a ‘funeral’ for his typical Present Mic hairstyle which, for her, had been an excuse to insult it for two hours.

Taking a moment to curl closer and relax at Shouta’s scent, which was stronger and far more earthy since this mess had begun, Hizashi finally pushed himself back and gave a smile. “Right, then! Let’s keep going, yeah?”

“You sure?” Shouta studied his face quickly and easily, Hizashi snorting when Shouta looked suspicious. “They’ll probably be fighting for another half hour, at least.”

“I’m sure, Shouta,” Hizashi smiled, snagging a quick kiss that deepened when he felt Shouta’s tongue trace the seam of his lips, slipping in before Hizashi could even think to deny him. It didn’t help when he felt fingers dragging down against his scalp in just the right way to have a wave of shivers rushing over him.

It took longer than it should have before Hizashi managed to pull back, panting against Shouta’s lips and muttering a weak, “That’s not going to make me want to keep sparring.”

“Mm, no, I think it’ll give you just the motivation that you need,” Shouta smirked before moving so his lips were pressed against the edge of Hizashi’s jaw, teeth catching at the skin.

Then, just like that, Shouta was gone and heading towards the other side of the gym, Hizashi shaky and trying to get his balance back under him as he took a few deep breaths.

Shouta was smirking at him as he always did after distracting him before their next sparring match, Nemuri and Tensei were loudly arguing about who was to blame for their last outing that ended in food poisoning for all four of them, and Hizashi felt like his heart was fit to burst with how many great people he had in his life.

He supposed that, if nothing else, he would always have these three behind him. For now, though, Hizashi adjusted his goggles, made sure his earplugs were in position, sucked in a steady breath, and grinned.

Present Mic still had a few more years left, as far as he was concerned.

★★★

Shouta was used to working when he was sleep deprived considering the fact he was a teacher and an underground hero; not to mention he now also had dorm duties thanks to U.A.’s new living system. Overall, he was busy enough that he was used to sleep deprivation and he was used to thinking and working through it.

No matter how long he stared down at Shinsou Hitoshi, though, Shouta couldn’t figure out why the kid was there - there being his and Hizashi’s on campus apartment that was only a few minutes’ walk from the 1-A dorms. The teen was his mentee, one that he and Hizashi both had grown horribly and overwhelming fond of, but as far as Shouta was aware, there was nothing that would have him in front of their door this late at night, and he could at least rule out an emergency because Hitoshi was looking more embarrassed than panicked.

Finally, after a few minutes of nothing being said, Shouta sighed and opened the door more. “Hitoshi, why aren’t you in your dorms when it’s past curfew?”

Interestingly enough, Hitoshi’s embarrassment seemed to get worse, the teen finally muttering out a weak, “Getting lost isn’t a right answer, there, huh.” As usual with him, his tone flattened the words, making it so there was no chance of it being a question. Shouta felt a brief flash of rage for every adult who had ever made Hitoshi think that he couldn’t ask a simple question before Hitoshi was speaking again. “Is Yamada-san home?”

Oh. Now that was interesting. Staying silent, Shouta waited until Hitoshi broke and started rambling, unable to stand the awkward silence. It was a great trick to get him to talk. “See, okay, so, I was watching the hero news before I go to bed because, you know, I’m in a school made for heroes, and stuff, so it’s a good thing to do, right?

“So, uh, I was watching the news and all these clips and I saw Present Mic’s latest interview about the raid and stuff where he, uh, yeah, and, well, um, I was- I wasn’t worried, but, uh, you know that I like cats, and stuff, and I know he’s a media hero and loves the spotlight and stuff, but his ears and tail kept reminding me of a cat ready to attack or something the longer the interview went on and I just wanted to come by and check if he was alright because I know what’s it like to keep getting pushed to answer questions you don’t want to answer.”

In the ensuing silence as Hitoshi gasped for breath, having rambled for longer than he had air, Shouta nodded to himself before stepping back, opening the door completely, and dragging Hitoshi inside.

“He’s on the couch. Shoes off and then you can go talk to him. He’s been sulking.” Shouta made sure the kid took his coat off, too, hanging it up before following after him to the living room where Hizashi was curled up on the couch and looking dejected, eyes on the TV where his latest interview was playing - one that he had been ambushed for right after a fight that had gone poorly once again.

“Present Mic, have you thought about retiring due to recent circumstances that have left you unable to fight?”

“‘Present Mic, have you thought about retiring,’” Hizashi mimicked, Shouta fighting back a laugh as Hitoshi seemed to be doing the same. “I can fight well enough to take down villains without causing property damage like some heroes!”

“Probably why you went up a couple spots in the hero rankings last week,” Hitoshi said in way of a greeting, Shouta unable to hide a snort as Hizashi jumped, ears pricking up. “A lot of people think you’re gonna join the Wild Wild Pussycats, though.”

Hizashi looked between Hitoshi and Shouta for a few seconds before scooting over and freeing up some more room on the couch, Shouta feeling something in him relax and warm when Hitoshi went over to sit down without being asked or nudged or pushed. Hizashi seemed to feel the same, fond expression on his face before he was launching into his favorite story about almost joining the hero group when they had just graduated from their third year.

As Hizashi talked and Hitoshi listened with rapt attention, Shouta moved and started ‘cleaning’ to make it look like he was busy, instead mostly watching the two as Hitoshi laughed and talked freely and Hizashi seemed to relax and come out of his depressive attitude that he had been stuck in since getting home.

It was nice to know that if Hizashi got to force Shouta into being ‘positive’ about everything and then not take his own advice, then Hizashi got to deal with a worried Hitoshi; who was now sprouting off cat facts and new ways Hizashi might be able to fight and use his quirk.

Shouta wasn’t aware of how caught up he was in watching them until he was rolling his eyes as Hizashi cooed over Hitoshi, hugging the teen tightly before looking over to Shouta and chirping out a cheerful, “Shouta, don’t we have such a great kid!”

“He comes all the way to check on you and instead you torture him? So much for being a hero,” Shouta snorted, watching as Hizashi only tugged off his ‘depression blanket’ and dropped it on Hitoshi, who seemed all too glad to have a reason to hide his face. “Hitoshi, which teacher is on dorm duty for 1-C tonight?”

“Oh, uh, Midnight-sensei.” Hitoshi poked his head out from under the blanket, wrapping the rest around him and looking one step away from falling asleep under it, especially with the bags under his eyes that were as bad as Shouta’s. “She gave me permission to come over and said she’d text you.”

“She did?” Shouta frowned, patting at his pockets before digging out his phone and staring at the empty screen. Pulling up Nemuri’s contact, Shouta sent a quick message asking her if she knew Hitoshi had left the dorms.

“Hang on, it’s already close to eleven,” Hizashi frowned, looking up to glance out one of the windows where night had already fallen. “Did you walk all the way over here in the dark?”

Hitoshi stared at him for a long moment before averting his eyes and clearing his throat, finally muttering out a quiet, “Maybe.”

Hizashi was already laughing as Shouta’s phone buzzed with a new message, Shouta rolling his eyes. ‘Oh yeah I forgot to tell you!!! Hitoshi-chan is coming your way he has permission to stay with you if you don’t wanna send him back!!!’

“Hitoshi, Nemuri says you have permission to spend the night in our guest bedroom if you want to stay instead of walking back,” Shouta said, shoving his phone away and collapsing on the couch on Hitoshi’s other side, watching the teen carefully to see the indecision. “One of us will walk you back, if you want, but I think we’d prefer it if you stayed here considering the time.”

“You’re not as subtle as you used to be, Sensei,” Hitoshi said, Shouta trying to smother the proud grin that wanted to come up. It used to be that Hitoshi would just nod along to whatever was ‘less troublesome.’ “You guys wouldn’t mind if I stayed?”

“Of course not!” Hizashi said, wrapping Hitoshi up in another tight hug that the teen didn’t even try to fight against. “We’d love to have you stay here, Hitoshi.” Hizashi made a sound that was almost like an actual chirp, Shouta slowly raising his eyebrows as Hizashi nuzzled the top of Hitoshi’s head in a move that was far too like what one of their cats would do when scent marking them.

Hitoshi seemed completely baffled as if he had realized the same thing, looking to Shouta and asking a weak, “Should I be fighting against this or just let it happen?”

“With him? You don’t have the energy to fight against him,” Shouta snorted, making a mental note of another new ‘cat trait’ of Hizashi’s.

Shouta hadn’t thought much of it when Hizashi had worn Shouta’s shirts or rubbed their cheeks together or rubbed at his neck since it was far from the first time, but watching him ruffle Hitoshi’s hair before starting to comb his fingers through it after nuzzling him, well. The scent marking shouldn’t be too surprising. It was at least tame compared to some of the other new traits.

Glancing at the time again, Shouta turned down the volume on the news station that was still playing, sat back, and waited.

It took half an hour before Hitoshi was completely asleep against Hizashi, blanket tucked around him and hair a fluffy mess that made him look so much younger than he acted. Seeing the soft, fond look on Hizashi’s face and the fact the man’s tail was wrapped around Hitoshi, Shouta didn’t bother feeling guilty about taking his phone out again and snapping a picture.

“You had better share that one, Shou-chan,” Hizashi pouted, looking up at Shouta before that fond look turned to worry. “Summer isn’t too far away… Do you really think he’ll say yes?”

Thinking about the question for a moment, Shouta stared at the two before sighing. “I hope he will, but I’m not sure. It could go either way. It’s… From what his caseworker said and what he’s told us, it doesn’t sound like he’s really had a family before - at least, not in a long time.”

“He’s almost sixteen, too,” Hizashi grumbled, ears flicking and pressing back, but not fully. The tail, meanwhile, curled more tightly around the sleeping teenager. “It’s not like he’ll really need parents for very long.”

“No, he won’t,” Shouta agreed, gaze drifting up to meet Hizashi’s. “But maybe he’ll want them.” A moment passed where Hizashi looked terribly fond before Shouta cleared his throat and stood up. “Besides, who wouldn’t want a half-cat dad.”

“Says the one who almost got adopted by Nezu when we were still in school. Didn’t he even have the paperwork drawn up, at one point?”

“Still does,” Shouta laughed, lightly patting at Hitoshi’s cheek for a moment. The teen didn’t so much as twitch. “I’ll carry him to his room. He needs the sleep.”

Hizashi snorted, stealing a kiss when Shouta leaned over to scoop Hitoshi into his arms. Shouta managed to give him a decent glare even as he flushed, careful when he stood back up. Stepping away, he paused at seeing Hizashi’s grin, something soft and warm and so loving. “What? What’s with that look?”

“I just…” Hizashi paused, quiet before he shook his head and got to his feet, kissing Shouta’s cheek softly. “I guess I just really love our family.”

“That was cruel,” Shouta grumbled, feeling the heat in his cheeks as he quickly walked away from Hizashi’s stifled laughter.

Shaking it off and getting to the guest bedroom, which looked more like a bedroom for a teenager who loved heroes and soft things because both he and Hizashi were far too weak, Shouta went to the bed and set Hitoshi down carefully, blanket and all. Tugging out the others from under Hitoshi and then setting them on top of him, Shouta sighed and crossed his arms.

“You know, it’s more convincing if you make it seem like you’re almost waking up, especially when being moved around.” Shouta watched as Hitoshi cracked his eyes open, looking bleary, but still decently awake. He also had a small smirk that Shouta had to fight to not laugh at. “You can eat breakfast here, but we’ll make sure you get back to your dorm before classes.”

Halfway to the door, Shouta stopped and turned around at Hitoshi’s quiet, “Sensei?” Waiting patiently, Shouta watched as Hitoshi’s gaze flicked around the room before settling on him with a type of resolve he hadn’t seen since the teen had vowed that he would be a hero. “I’ll say yes.”

“Oh?” Running back over their conversation from earlier, Shouta tried to figure out what Hitoshi could be saying yes to before he was speaking again.

“This summer. When you… When you ask me… I’ll say yes.” Oh. Oh. Shouta stared, utterly speechless for a moment before Hitoshi laughed and turned around so he was even more wrapped up in his blankets. “Goodnight, Sensei.”

Somehow managing a quiet goodnight as he left the room, Shouta shut the door gently before looking to where Hizashi had been leaning against the wall and listening, hands now covering his mouth and eyes wide with quickly forming tears. Everything about him screamed nothing except joy.

“Well,” Shouta finally managed, grin tugging at his lips. “Guess this makes it easier since you were scent marking him half the night.”

Laughing at the squawk of outrage, Shouta quickly dodged the playful swipe and dragged Hizashi along to their bedroom, mind racing. They had a lot to get ready before they brought their son home for the summer, after all.

Of course, some of what still needed doing was working on Hizashi’s quirk.

It had been a couple of months since the raid and while Hizashi was adjusting, there were still things he could no longer do with his quirk, and it wasn’t hard to see he was having a harder time fighting in public areas where everything was loud, bright, and overwhelming on a good day.

Their sparring sessions had gone down now that Hizashi seemed to have a decent time with his new flexibility and movement, fighting styles all altered to fit and now able to land on his feet when he was falling - even if it was back first - but his ears… Shouta had a feeling hearing aids for cat ears were a lot harder to come by.

Shouta sighed to himself, trying to stop thinking about Hizashi’s patrols as he worked on his own, eyes scanning familiar streets and late night wanderers who were making their way home. A flash of blonde hair from a laughing woman surrounded by friends had his mind going right back to Hizashi, though.

If they couldn’t figure out a way for Hizashi to safely do his hero work, then the days of Present Mic might be reaching their end. The thought alone had Shouta giving out a bitter laugh, unable to help the thought of how he was supposed to be the one who retired first - especially considering how the USJ incident had gone. There had to be something they could do.

A shrill scream broke the night and his thoughts and Shouta was already on the move before it fully registered, bands snapping out to wrap around one of the streetlamps and bring him to ground level just as he saw a male figure roughly his height disappearing around a corner and into an alleyway with something clutched in his hands, a woman a few feet away collapsed on the ground and looking panicked.

Shouta stopped by her for half a moment, checking her over for any damage and seeing nothing more than a cut on her arm that looked to be shallow. “Hey- Are you a hero? He stole my bag- My whole life is in that thing!”

“I am and I’ll help you get it back as best I can. Do you still have your phone? Can you call the police?” When he got a shake of the head, Shouta tsked and tossed his own phone towards her after unlocking it. “Call the police and explain the situation. I’ll be right back, ma’am.”

Shouta left before she could get anything else out, heading down the alley and swearing to himself when he saw it empty. It didn’t feel empty, though, and that meant a quirk that allowed the thief to hide - which was good. Hiding was something Shouta could work with.

“Oi, oi, a purse snatcher, really? Don’t you have some candy to steal from babies, instead?” Shouta drawled, eyes scanning for any sort of movement and ears straining for sound. “Should I have had your parents called instead of the police?”

There was the slightest noise behind him and that was all Shouta needed to spin around and quickly cross his arms and hold them up, catching the boot that had almost slammed into his back. The thief, male, black hair, black eyes, pale, roughly in his twenties, looked surprised before he was jerking back. He only managed a few feet before Shouta had his cloth snapping out, two of the bands wrapping around the thief as Shouta reached for his quirk, not quite activating it but ready to at a moment’s notice.

“Next time, kid, you might want to stop and think before committing one of the most cliché crimes there is.” Instead of paling further and making excuses or threats as typically happened, the kid grinned.

“You must be Eraserhead.” Fuck. It was never good when they knew his name. “My mentor told me about you. Said that you patrolled this area. Guess he was right.”

Trap.

“Good job, Shade.” There had been no sound or movement in the alleyway besides him and ‘Shade,’ but the voice was right behind him and it took everything Shouta had not to tense up. “Flushed out like a rat, don’t you think, Eraserhead?”

Shade squirmed and Shouta tightened the bands on instinct, taking a moment to re-think his plans and what he could do. Police were already on their way, so he only had to keep the two busy for so long. That should be simple enough - although it depended on who he was up against.

“What? No greeting? Where are your manners, Eraserhead?” Whoever was behind this sounded like he knew him in some way or another. That usually made things worse.

“I keep asking him the same thing, yo, but he never answers!” Freezing at the voice that he knew better than his own, Shouta wasn’t sure whether to laugh or yell at the fact Hizashi, no doubt on his way home from the radio station, had found the exact alleyway he was in. “Oi, oi, a party I wasn’t invited to? Eraser! I’m hurt!”

“Who the hell-” Not letting the man behind him finish, Shouta activated his quirk before gripping the bands tightly and moving to throw the one he had captured into the one behind him, loosening the cloth just in time for the two to both go tumbling to the ground, Shouta almost smiling at Hizashi’s bright laughter.

“Looks like U.A.’s favorite hero duo is back in action!” Hizashi cheerfully shouted, Shouta making sure the two villains were distracted before he was digging out a pair of ear plugs from his belt and slipping them in. He had worked with Hizashi too often in the past to not be prepared. “What do you say, Eraser, fancy a team up?”

Shouta finally looked up to see Hizashi stalking forward with one of his Present Mic grins, looking the part of yakuza more than anything else; or worse, considering his smiles were now filled with sharp, dangerous teeth. Shouta couldn’t help a snort as he readied the binding cloth again with a quick, “You’re not my first choice, but you’ll do.”

Hizashi’s laugh was the only signal he needed before they were both launching into action, Shouta more pleased than he would have thought at being able to fight by Hizashi’s side again. There had been a reason, he mused, that no one in their third year would go up against them during matchups.

Five minutes, if that, had the two villains tied up in a bright spot, mostly due to Shade’s ability to hide in the shadows, the stolen bag returned, and the police on their way.

“You know,” Shouta said as he nudged at Hizashi softly. “You don’t make a half bad underground hero.”

Instead of laughing and waving the compliment off, Shouta felt something like dread as Hizashi perked up before grinning. “You think? Because, now, I know you’ve shot me down time and time again about the whole hero duo thing, but, I want you to hear me out on this one!”

Shouta paused as Hizashi went off into his ‘argument,’ thinking about it himself. He had always shot Hizashi down about being a duo purely because while their quirks and fighting styles matched up, everything else… didn’t. Present Mic was a media hero who was always in the spotlight, but now that spotlight was damaging him. If he were to become an underground hero, though, well. That made it different.

Not only would Hizashi be relying on the infrasonic parts of his quirk instead of just pure shouting force, he wouldn’t be dealing with the overwhelming sights and sounds of the city when it was awake. His new fighting style in thanks to his ‘new quirk’ as he kept calling it would only make it easier, especially since he now had the skills to not only keep up but catch up. A hero duo between the two of them wasn’t such a bad idea anymore.

Looking to where Hizashi was still rambling, Shouta stole a glance at the villains, making sure they were knocked out completely before cutting Hizashi off with a soft kiss, muffling the words until Hizashi was making a small noise and then kissing him back. It was a delight to pull back and see Hizashi looked completely distracted, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he managed a quiet, “What was that for?”

“Compensation since you don’t get to choose the final name for us,” Shouta hummed, pleased when it only took half a second before Hizashi seemed to catch on. “You’ll need a new hero costume.”

“Between you and me,” Hizashi sighed dramatically, winding his arms around Shouta’s neck. “Leather was never such a good idea to begin with.”

Shouta hummed, running a hand through Hizashi’s hair and hiding a smile as he heard the approaching sirens. Hizashi, he knew, had come to the same conclusion he had. Present Mic’s days as a media hero were over, but that didn’t mean Present Mic was over.

The panic over the last few months had finally settled down and their lives could continue as they always had.

At least, that was the plan before Eri came along.

They had started the school year with no children and the mistaken belief that everything would continue as it always had. Now it was a few weeks into summer, they had two children who Shouta would kill for without question, and he and his husband were an underground hero duo that couldn’t be beat.

“I think Hizashi-san has gotten a little carried away with the whole parent to a little girl thing,” Hitoshi mumbled, pushing over the half full coffee pot the moment Shouta sat down at the table. “They’ve spent the last hour running around as magical girls and ‘vanquishing’ the darkness.”

Shouta hummed, looking to where he saw a flash of laces and ribbons running past, accompanied by Eri’s bright giggles that were still rare enough to be precious. Looking back to Hitoshi, who was half-asleep like a sensible person and tucked under one of the blankets they had bought him, Shouta asked a simple, “Pictures?”

Hitoshi almost looked offended as he answered. “Of course. I already uploaded them to Hizashi-san’s online album or whatever it is.” They had wonderful children and Shouta had the distinct feeling that he would go to war with anyone who said otherwise. “You might wanna talk with Eri, later, though. She was asking me quirk-related questions, like how to use a quirk and control it and stuff.”

“At least she’s healing enough to be curious about quirks again,” Shouta pointed out, draining half his cup in one go. Hitoshi raised an eyebrow and pushed the pot closer towards him. “Anything I should worry about?”

Hitoshi scrunched up his nose and thought about it, the expression horribly similar to Hizashi when he was thinking over something himself. “I don’t think so. I think… I don’t know. I think she might be getting more comfortable with her quirk.”

“Seems to be a common theme in this family.” Shouta drained the rest of his cup, hiding a smile at Hitoshi’s eye rolling. “Alright, I’ll go check on her and Hizashi and their quest to ‘vanquish the darkness.’ Don’t go back to sleep, yet. Nemuri’s coming over for lunch.”

“Cool. I’ll just stay up and then pass out at the table once she and Hizashi-san start one of their ‘debates,’” Hitoshi yawned, grabbing his own cup of coffee and stumbling off towards his room. “Or I’ll go into a coma, first.”

Shouta snorted and drained the rest of his own cup before gathering the few dishes scattered about and placing them in the sink, taking a moment to make sure the kitchen wasn’t about to devolve into total anarchy before heading off towards Eri’s room where he could still hear faint giggles of laughter.

“-really happened only a few months ago? You seem, um… It fits.” At Eri’s soft, stumbling words, Shouta peered around the corner, still mostly out of sight, to see that Eri had a small hand wrapped around Hizashi’s tail, the girl being careful to stroke the fur in one direction. Hizashi, wrapped up in a soft sweater and a few pink ribbons, gave a soft noise that was between a purr and a hum as one of his ears twitched.

“Yep! It happened because of my hero work where I was helping other little kids who were trapped - like you! It doesn’t hurt anymore, and I’ve learned to make the most of it.” Hizashi looked around dramatically, Shouta watching as Hizashi caught his gaze for a half second before grinning and bending down to whisper to Eri, the two of them sitting on the floor with Eri bundled in his lap. “You know, I actually think of it like a second quirk. How cool is that?”

Eri giggled as Hizashi wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, a soft, warm smile on his face that Shouta had only seen directed towards him, and now, of course, their kids. He was ready to leave it at that and head back to Hitoshi’s room to make sure the teen was really awake, but he paused at hearing Eri’s soft, “Do you ever wish you could go back? To before you were changed?”

Hizashi seemed as surprised as Shouta, opening and closing his mouth before giving a thoughtful little noise that Shouta knew meant he was completely surprised. “Well… I guess I’ve thought of it a few times, back when this first happened and everything was still so new and overwhelming. Why do you ask, sweetie?”

“Oh, um, well…” Eri shifting and squirmed like she did when she had something she wanted to say and didn’t know how to say it, but Shouta wasn’t worried. Hizashi was more patient than anyone he had ever met, and he seemed all too content to play with Eri’s hair and rub her back as she fought with her words. “I’ve… been thinking about my quirk and practicing during the sessions with it and… I’m getting better.” There was no ‘I think’ before the words and Shouta knew his expression was as stupidly fond as Hizashi’s.

“I’m getting better at rewinding things before it gets too much, and- And you told me it hasn’t even really been a year,” Eri continued, hands clutching at her dress before she looked up at Hizashi with as much determination as she could muster. “I think I can rewind you back to before you were like this. Do you-”

“No.” The answer was as quick as it was soft, Shouta creeping closer and not sure if he or Eri were more surprised by the answer. “Oh, Princess, don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy that you’re starting to see the good you can do with your quirk, but I don’t need it.”

“But… you said it hurt. When it happened, you said it hurt, and you told me once that you still hurt from it all sometimes! Aren’t you supposed to want to get better when you’re hurt?” Eri crossed her arms and pouted up at Hizashi and Shouta had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing or, possibly, crying. A pouting Eri with puffed up cheeks was so much better than when she had been silent and still and blank.

“Of course! You should always try to get better when your sick or hurt, but this… is a bit different.” Hizashi wrapped his arms around Eri and cuddled her close, Eri accepting the affection at once and relaxing in his arms. “How do I put this…” Hizashi proceeded to make a series of ridiculous noises that showed he was ‘thinking,’ Eri laughing all the while before Hizashi snapped his fingers. “It’s like a scar!”

“A scar?” Eri frowned, patting at his tail again as she seemed to take a moment to think, Hizashi waiting on her patiently as his tail seemed to curl around her, keeping her close. Shouta could relate to the feeling. “But scars hurt, sometimes… Does this hurt sometimes?”

“Sometimes. Less so than when it first happened, but it’s like a scar in the way that I can’t go back in time and just change it; although maybe you could,” Hizashi winked before his smile softened at Eri’s bright burst of giggles. “No, it… It reminds me that being a hero can be dangerous, but that it’s worth it. This happened to me because we were rescuing a group of children that were in a dangerous situation. I’ll never regret that.

“It also reminded me that I needed to be more careful.” Hizashi’s voice grew quieter, his gaze flicking up to meet Shouta’s own before he was bending close as if telling Eri a secret. “You see, I was always a bit reckless with my quirk when I thought I was needed. I ended up getting hurt more than Shouta, some days!”

“But I thought Dad always hurt?” Eri’s question was filled with innocent confusion and Shouta wasn’t sure whether to feel emotional over the fact she had so quickly latched onto calling him her dad or if he should be annoyed that even his youngest knew about his chronic pain. “How did you hurt more than him?”

“It was a talent,” Hizashi snorted, shaking his head. “But that’s not my point! You see, these ears and this tail and all these little changes, they reminded me that risking my own safety over someone else’s wasn’t a good thing. Because I have a husband that I love and never want to leave, and a son that’s growing up and still has so much he needs help with, and a beautiful little girl who I want to spend as much time as possible with.”

Eri went silent as she digested the information with a serious expression, Shouta watching the two of them with more love than he ever thought he was capable of. His family may have been ragged and mismatched, but Shouta knew he wouldn’t change them for the world; he wouldn’t change a second of this for anything.

“I think I get it,” Eri finally said, looking up to Hizashi with young eyes that had seen far too much. “But let me know if you ever hurt and I’ll be extra careful!”

Hizashi laughed, his eyes wet and words choked as he managed a soft, “I promise.” A second later and he was hugging Eri tightly, Shouta pushing himself off the wall to finally go check on Hitoshi, content that everything was just as it should be.

★★★

Hizashi had come to realize that there were some ‘cat traits’ that none of them had expected or recognized until they were obvious enough that even Eri could tell they were odd. The most recent, Hizashi had admitted to himself, was that he had the overpowering urge to drag all of their blankets and pillows into their decently sized closet and then kidnap their children to hide away when either of them looked the slightest bit overwhelmed.

It was easy enough to ignore the oddity of it when it was just Eri he was bundling up in blankets and dark spaces until she calmed down from her nightmares of bright lights and open spaces. It was harder to lie to himself that it was perfectly normal when he had kidnapped Hitoshi and currently had the teen curled up against him asleep under a couple blankets with Shouta staring down at them from the closet doorway.

“If you think about it, this could be just a normal me thing.” If Hizashi spoke first, he could curb some of the embarrassment before it really began. Hopefully. “You know, relaxing on something soft during attacks and everything.”

“In the closet,” Shouta said flatly, opening the door a bit more and raising his eyebrows when Hizashi made a disgruntled noise that even he admitted was closer to a hiss than he wanted it to be. “Is Eri in there with you?”

“Er, possibly.” Hizashi shot a glance to a bundled-up pile of blankets that were rising softly every few seconds with Eri’s gentle brerathing. “You know, hiding in closets and sleeping in the sunspots around here really isn’t the worst thing when you compare it with everything else, don’t you think?”

Shouta snorted and nudged at Hizashi’s ankles, Hizashi confused for only a moment before he grinned and shifted to free up some more room. Not even a second later Shouta was slipping into the closet and shutting the door until only a sliver of light came in, careful as he sat down while cursing under his breath, ending with a muttered, “Why do we have so many clothes?”

“Because some of us wear more than the same outfit every day, dear,” Hizashi said sweetly, biting back against a laugh as Shouta gave him a disgruntled look even as he pulled Eri into his lap, the girl completely sacked out and limp in his arms and her bundle of blankets. “Any idea what set Hitoshi off today?”

“He was fine during the training classes today,” Shouta sighed, absently braiding Eri’s wild mess of hair even as the girl began drooling on him. “It’s possible something triggered a memory for him in one of his other classes. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been pleasant considering you scent marked him the second we were home-”

“I do not scent mark our children!” Hizashi hissed, only just remembering to keep his voice quiet. “I was giving him a supportive hug at the most!” The lie was obvious even to him, but there were some things too embarrassing for even Hizashi to own up to.

“And rubbing your cheek against the top of his head just like you’ve done to me and Eri countless other times.” Shouta’s grin was far too smug and Hizashi decided that if they were granted the gift of a reincarnated life, Hizashi would find Shouta just so he could be sure the man suffered from the effects of a cat-shifting quirk as well. “Don’t worry, Sunshine,” Shouta snickered. “It’s cute.”

Curbing the urge to smother Shouta with a blanket until he stopped moving, Hizashi returned his attention to Hitoshi. The tense lines around his mouth from earlier had disappeared, face smooth and relaxed and so young as he slept soundly. When he heard a quiet laugh, Hizashi tilted his head up to look at Shouta, who was grinning at him in that besotted way that he swore he didn’t do.

“You look like a dad with his newborn when you’re looking at them sometimes,” Shouta said, as if he didn’t act the same damn way around Hitoshi and Eri every single day. “Should I worry that you’re just going to start picking them up and carrying them around everywhere?”

“Oh, as if you don’t carry Eri around every time she so much as looks at you,” Hizashi complained, immediately soothing Hitoshi’s hair down when the teen made a quiet noise and shifted and squirmed around for a few moments. “I can and will hide those jelly packets of yours, Shouta.”

“They’re nutrition pouches, first of all, and second, you know I’ll dose your morning coffee with catnip if you even try.” The threat was empty, but it still had Hizashi shuddering at the first and last time he had tried catnip on a dare from Nemuri.

Settling for giving Shouta a light kick, Hizashi settled down in his blanket crafted den with a soft sigh, smiling as he heard and felt Shouta do the same. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he was the only one left awake.

He was proven right when he heard Shouta give a tired little mumble, Hizashi biting back a laugh as he nudged Shouta’s leg with his foot, the two sitting with their backs to the side walls of their little closet. “Sorry, Starlight, but you’ll need to repeat that one.”

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” With the way his eyes were now, Hizashi was easily able to focus on Shouta’s face in the darkness of their closet, fondness overwhelming him when he saw the sleepy eyes that were half-lidded. “Hitoshi, Eri, us… It doesn’t feel real, sometimes.”

In the way that Hizashi had always known what Shouta’s words meant, he knew what Shouta was leaving unsaid. It didn’t feel real to be so happy after so much bad had happened over their years as pros. It didn’t feel real to suddenly have a family that they loved and adored and two kids who loved them as fiercely as Hizashi and Shouta loved them back. It didn’t feel real to be so happy.

“No, it doesn’t feel real,” Hizashi agreed, lips pulling up into a smile as Shouta’s eyes fluttered shut. “But in the best possible way.” It was possible, of course, that it was always going to end up like this even without the path they had gone.

He had little doubt that it always would have ended up with Hitoshi, Eri, Shouta, and Hizashi all tangled together and sleeping after a rough day. Maybe in another life he and Shouta wouldn’t have been heroes, or Hitoshi wouldn’t have gone through as much as he did, or Eri never would have had to suffer to find the place she belonged, but…

It was all going to end where they were now. Maybe there could have been different beginnings, but Hizashi had to believe with everything in him that it was all going to end the way it was now.

Besides, even if their own beginning was difficult, Hizashi wouldn’t have changed it for anything. What fun was a world where he didn’t get to teach quirk-powered teenagers who were eager to become the next generation of heroes?

Then again, there was something to be said for normal high schools.

Hizashi had adjusted quickly to how chaotic U.A. was with his new senses and abilities, but that didn’t mean anything when even before his change he was liable to get headaches from how loud and chaotic the students he taught were - especially those in the Hero and Support courses. At least the hero students didn’t just blow things up to see what they did.

Some days, however, were cursed, and Hizashi knew when to tell if a day was cursed or not just by how the first class of his day went. The general education students were the calmest of the lot; they were supposed to be, at least. Sending three of them to Recovery Girl because a fight had broken out during class was not what he considered calm, and it only got worse as the day went on until he started teaching Shouta’s class.

“That… That’s not how proper English works, Ashido.” Hizashi was staring down at Ashido Mina’s paper in pure horror. He loved jokes and the deconstruction of language as much as the next language enthusiast, but he should not, as a teacher, have to grade an entire essay written entirely in outdated memes. “How much slang from different decades did you mix together?”

“Seven,” Ashido said proudly, puffed up and looking delightedly proud. Hizashi had to fight to not break down in either laughter or tears - especially since he wasn’t sure which one would win. “It all works in context of what you asked us to write, though, doesn’t it!”

“It really doesn’t,” Hizashi sighed, handing Ashido’s paper back to her. “Please read the notes I made before writing your next paper. Please.”

The girl huffed and snatched the paper before stomping back to her seat, Hizashi sighing as he took a moment to rub at his eyes. Maybe if he rubbed hard enough, he would go blind and never have to grade another English paper again.

“Sensei? What are we supposed to be doing again?” Slowly looking up at Sero’s voice, Hizashi was gratified to see the teen flinch. “I mean, obviously I know what we’re supposed to be doing, but, uh, what are the full… parameters? Of the assignment?”

There was an outburst of snickering at his table and Hizashi reflected on the fact that these students used to be in awe of him when they first started. He had been a celebrity to them; the famous Voice Hero Present Mic! Then again, he had changed a lot since his ‘new quirk,’ with brushed out hair tucked away in a half-bun, soft sweaters, and pants that weren’t made of leather. Ah, well. At least they still feared Shouta if Hizashi needed to scare them into behaving.

“Pick one book that’s been printed in Japanese and translate a full chapter into English. You’ll then pick a book printed in English and translate a full chapter in Japanese - and no, you cannot use the same book for both translations or use the same book by anyone else doing the assignment, which is why I had you write down two books at the start of this.”

Sero stared at him, slowly blinked, and then nodded. Hizashi already knew what was coming before he asked the question. “So, just to be sure I have everything-”

“The books you signed up for are printed on this piece of paper that has been taped to my desk for the past week.”

There was a snort of laughter from one of the brats, and Hizashi was half-certain it was from Hitoshi. The kid wasn’t looking at him, but his sense of humor was as vicious as Shouta’s when he wanted it to be.

Maybe he should just make a list of the top students in his class and tell everyone else to talk to them during open study periods. That would save him the trouble and Kaminari, he knew, would delight in being seen as one of the ones in the top of the class. Honestly, how that boy could be fluent in three languages and then walk into glass was the true mystery of Class 1-A.

“What?! You’re kidding me!” Uraraka’s exclamation had Hizashi’s ears pressing back against his head, Hizashi himself sighing and ready to scold her before he saw that she had slammed both of her hands on her desk during her outburst. The desk was already floating and halfway up towards the ceiling before she noticed.

For as amazing and brilliant as Class 1-A was, Hizashi was absolutely certain that all of them were, in some way, dumbasses.

It was a shame he couldn’t say that about them when he was on the clock, but at least the teachers agreed with him. “Uraraka-”

“Already on it, Sensei!” Uraraka beamed, touching her fingers together and seeming to forget about the fact the desk wasn’t going to gently float down as it had when going up.

It was like a train wreck, Hizashi already halfway out of his seat as the desk crashed to the floor right on an unaware Bakugou who, if Hizashi had to guess from action alone, thought he was being attacked.

Class 1-A’s English lesson ended with twenty scolded students, three destroyed desks, two detentions given out, Hizashi cradling a bruised and squished tail that was aching with pain, and five extra credit points to four students for knowing fifteen different English swear words.

After his escape, Hizashi was doing his best to not wince as Shouta wrapped his bruised and battered tail at their desks in the teacher’s lounge as Nemuri cackled over his misfortune.

“Oh, Shouta, your homeroom this year is a riot! Do you think we can weaponize them all as a force of good in the world?”

“You’re as stupid as them if you think they haven’t weaponized their stupidity already,” Shouta snorted, tightening the bandages before looking to Hizashi. “Are you sure you don’t want to see Recovery Girl?”

Hizashi shook his head, moving his tail carefully and pleased when most of the pain had already faded. “C’mon, Shou-chan, I can’t go crying to Recovery Girl when it’s just a little bruise!”

“Oh?” Nemuri purred, Hizashi glaring at her as she stepped closer. “So are we not counting the time you went running to her when you broke a nail-”

“I had a TV interview later that day and you know it!” Hizashi hissed, the sound becoming an actual hiss when Nemuri simply blew him a kiss before strutting away. “Shouta, Nemuri is being mean to me!”

“You know, when you first told me that when we were students, I thought that at the most I would only have to put up with it until Nemuri graduated,” Shouta drawled, slouching down in his seat and closing his eyes. “Should I ask Nezu if he’ll hire Tensei so we have our peacekeeper back?”

“Ha, ha, you’re hilarious,” Hizashi muttered, unable to stop himself from the burst of fondness he felt as Shouta already started to drift off. “Well, at least we can always hope that things will be better in the future.”

“You think?” Shouta cracked his eyes open and gave a small smile. It was the same smile Hizashi had seen on Shouta back when they were young and had just graduated and managed to get their first apartment, both of them excited for whatever the future would bring to them. “I thought we were already there.”

Unable to help his laughter, Hizashi shook his head as he turned in his seat back to his desk, letting it sink in that they really had made it. They were a successful underground pro hero duo, they had two beautiful kids, they taught at U.A. of all places and, more important than anything else, they were happy.

The future wasn’t a bad place at all, really.

Not when the uncertainty of it all faded to show that the future was in good hands, Hizashi prouder than words could describe as he saw their students grow and learn and become stronger - better - than every dark force that was out there.

“For the last time, Nemuri, knee-length dress means that your dress must be at least knee-length,” Hizashi argued into the phone that was resting on the coffee table and on speaker, Nemuri’s whining filling up the living room as Hizashi tried to fix Shouta’s mess of a tie. “For once in your life try not to be a slut!”

“That’s impossible for her,” Hitoshi muttered, Hizashi cuffing Shouta on the head when the man looked nothing but proud. “Are ties really-”

“Yes, they are required. You and your entire class are graduating and I will make sure you look presentable if it’s the last thing I do- Nemuri. This will not be like our graduation.”

“You take all the fun out of things, Hizashi-chan. Fine! I’ll dress ‘appropriately.’ Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a hot date to pick up.”

The call disconnected with a cheerful goodbye, Hizashi rolling his eyes as he finally fixed Shouta’s tie. When he looked to Hitoshi to fix his, he paused at seeing it was already done perfectly, Hitoshi responding with a shrug when Hizashi raised an eyebrow. “Just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tie one.”

Huffing a laugh, Hizashi pulled Hitoshi off the couch and gave him a quick hug and definitely not scent marking him no matter what they all said. “This is why you’re better than Shouta. Go grab your sister? If we hurry we can get there before it begins and you can be disgustingly cute with your true love.”

“As if you have any room to talk,” Hitoshi grumbled, cheeks flushed as he quickly fled to Eri’s room. It was far too cute.

Hearing Shouta come up behind him, Hizashi sighed dramatically and ‘collapsed’ backwards, laughing when Shouta gave a startled grunt before catching him. “Do you always need to be the most dramatic one in Japan at all times?”

“Part of my charm,” Hizashi winked, kissing Shouta’s cheek quickly before bounding back up. “I can’t believe Hitoshi is graduating today! It seems like it was only yesterday you dragged him home like the scruffy kitten he was.”

“I just sped things up from where he would have eventually followed me home,” Shouta waved off, wandering over towards the couch to no doubt collapse and ruin his suit. Hizashi decided that he would let Nemuri deal with him and then maybe he would learn a lesson. “How much longer until I’m rid of my class?”

Hiding a smile, Hizashi decided that one or two wrinkles wouldn’t ruin the day too badly before he was sliding into the spot next to Shouta and curling up to him, purrs rumbling out of him the moment he felt Shouta’s fingers begin stroking his ears.

“You know, it’d be easier to get rid of your students if you didn’t offer half of them internships with us,” Hizashi managed to get out, shivering at a particularly nice scratch before his tail was moving to curl around Shouta’s waist. “And the half you didn’t give internships to you made sure they had ones lined up.”

There were grumbles and mumbles of ‘doing his job’ and it was work to hide the laughter that wanted to come bursting out of him, Hizashi instead hiding his smile against Shouta’s chest. “I can hear your smugness,” Shouta complained, hand moving to stroke Hizashi’s hair and garble his reply into a series of hums and purrs.

“You know,” Hizashi managed. “I think you were on to something with the whole future is now thing, but I think you missed something even more important.”

“I did not say ‘the future is now,’” Shouta snorted, looking down at him. “Go on, then? What did I miss?”

“Well-”

“Alright, we’re ready!” Hitoshi called, Hizashi sitting up just as Hitoshi came in with Eri firmly latched onto his back and dressed adorably in one of her new dresses. “The leech isn’t letting go, though.”

There was an offended screech from Eri at being called a leech and Shouta groaned before he was nudging Hizashi off of him and going to play peacekeeper. Hizashi curled up on the couch and watched them, unable to help a burst of delight at seeing his family, safe and happy and together.

Shouta had been right in saying the future was good, but, well… the happily ever after was even better.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #erasermic #my writing #my commissions

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ramimami-blog · 5 years

Text

...and it’s all on camera. (Eternally Yours pt. 1)

This is my very first piece of writing involving my original character Miyuki. She is an Until Dawn/Diary of a Wimpy Kid OC (because clearly they take place in the same universe, i’m dead serious). I intend to release an xfem!reader version of this fic, but for tonight this what I’m releasing.

A/n: condoms break, use plan b lmao. Warnings: smut, breaking condoms, noise. Seriously, always have back up birth control and if your condom breaks get tested a month after, please. Also slight coercion at the beginning, which can make some people uncomfy. Minor race play.

Word Count: 3,687k (I WENT OVERBOARD I KNOW)

If anyone wants to know more about this OC before/after reading, here is my RP post for her.

“This is not what I agreed to, Washington!” she scolded her boyfriend, gently pushing the camera out of her pale face as he smirked down at her, that genuine smirk that always drove the shorter female wild.

“Yes you did, you said it, you said I could record it!” “No! I was kidding!” “That’s not how it would look in a court transcript!”

Miyuki groaned loudly, her hands moving to cover her breasts in embarrassment. This was humiliating for her, but at the same time she wondered if she could ever say no to him. To those eyes, to those lips, to that nose.

She thought about it for another moment, pouting hard while crossing her arms over her breasts. Josh still had the camera focused on her face as it pouted, admiring her through the viewfinder for a moment.

“Hot Asian babe thoroughly dicked down by white boyfriend,” Josh said with a smile. Miyuki tilted her head. “What?!” “Thinkin’ about titles for it...”

The tiny woman’s eyes widened hard, hands reaching for the camera as she stepped forward swiftly, closing the gap between the two of them as Josh cackled almost wildly.

“You are NOT uploading this ANYWHERE, Washington!” “It’s gotta be illegal for me to keep such primo porn to myself, sweetie!” “... No!”

Josh sighed in defeat for a moment, lowering the camera as he took the woman’s chin in his hand gently. He towered over her, she was so tiny, barely standing over five feet tall. So thin, so faelike, the love of his life.

His thumb raked across her bottom lip, his fingers tilting her head up gently. Of course some part of him wanted to respect that she was saying no, but how could he? Miyuki was a goddess of lust and beauty in his eyes, she was a being near worthy of worship and having her at her most primal, most lustful on camera was just too gorgeous a thought to let go of.

He smiled at her, leaning in a little closer and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Please?”

Please... The word echoed in her head for a moment as she stood there, looking up into his eyes and silently weighing the pros and cons of being filmed at her most vulnerable. She loved Josh with all of her heart, and truthfully had wanted to explore their sex life further. Miyuki just didn’t know how to approach it without sounding like what they had wasn’t enough for her.

“Fine.”

Josh pressed another kiss to her cheek, harder this time as he turned the floor lamp on, lightly illuminating the room as he began to look through the view finder again.

“And what’s this pretty little porn star’s name?” Josh asked with a smirk, watching as Miyuki removed her arms from her breasts with a smile.

“Miyuki...” “God what a hot ass name... gonna... do something special?” Josh was clearly referring to something Miyuki did with a condom, one of his favorite parts of being intimate with her.

Josh reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a thin condom and handing it to her. Once she took a hold of it, Miyuki instantly ripped it open with her pearly white teeth.

As the young Asian sank down to her knees, Josh began to remove his pants, unzipping them and watching his girlfriend through the view finder with lustful eyes. His erection was already starting to grow, he was so eager to be inside of her, and so eager to hear her whimper.

The young woman hooked her fingers in the waist band of his black boxers, pulling them down and allowing his semi-hard cock to flop out in front of her. Her smile widened a bit, her eyes locked on the camera as she began peppering his cock with kisses, her lipstick leaving a trail of marks up and down the pale flesh.

To Miyuki, Josh’s cock was always worthy of worship. Often times if she had it her way, she would just suck on his cock like a lollipop until he blew up in her mouth, putting her own pleasure behind of her just to watch him squirm.

But not tonight. She had a delicious show to put on.

Joshua groaned lowly as his cock hardened quickly from the mixture of the kisses, and the fact he was getting it all on camera. He loved knowing he would be able to jerk himself off to this video when she couldn’t be reacted for a trip to the bone zone, and part of him liked thinking that if he uploaded it somewhere, other men would lust after a woman that only he could plow.

His cock was near full erection status when Miyuki shoved him into her mouth, stopping half way down and swirling her tongue around the sensitive flesh. Josh tossed his head back, letting out a very pleased groan. The young, tiny woman kept her eyes on the camera as she bounced her head back and forth along the length of his shaft.

Josh, always being a gentleman, reached down, bundling her hair up and holding it on the back of her head, gently pushing her head down over more of his cock, groaning lowly as his gorgeous girlfriend slurped on his cock.

After a few moments, Josh released her hair, giving a soft slap to her cheek and winking.

Miyuki unlatched her mouth from his cock slowly, carefully, a small line of spit attaching her lips to his manhood for a moment before she took the condom, and placed it into her mouth.

She looked up into the camera for a moment, showing it off in her mouth before taking a firm hold of Josh’s cock, and pushing her mouth back down over it. It was a hard technique to master, but she had mastered it for him, she loved the way it drove him crazy, loved the way he looked at her while she did it.

Her fingers wrapped around the edge of the condom, holding it steady as she slowly pulled her mouth backwards, dragging it almost cutely over his shaft and wiggling her rear end. When Josh’s member came out of her lips it was with a cute pop and a giggle, she was just asking to be fucked stupid when she acted like that, and Josh knew it.

Josh kept an eye on her through the viewfinder as she admired her work. Miyuki had a filthy little mouth and it was something he loved the most about her. The way she gladly took his cock into her mouth was one of the most erotic things he had ever witnessed, she loved the taste of it as much as he loved tasting himself upon her tongue.

Miyuki purred as she pushed herself back up onto her feet, Josh pulled her into a kiss. The couple began flicking their tongues together as the male began to push the smaller female towards his bed. Once the back of her legs hit the fabric of his blanket, he stopped the kiss and pushed her backwards, hard. Miyuki giggled as she fell back onto the bed, leaning up on her elbows and eyeing him anxiously.

The young girl was apprehensive at first, but now she needed to feel him inside of her, wanted to cry and squeal and cum all over his cock until the sun came up. The need in her eyes was undeniable, Josh could see it but he had to make sure she was ready first.

Crawling onto the bed, Josh pushed her legs wide open and sat the camera down. Miyuki grabbed it, blowing a kiss to the lens before turning it so it had a view of Josh’s head between her legs.

Her cunt was soft, pink, and waxed. A thin gloss of her own juices was layered over the sensitive flesh that Josh quickly licked up, his thick tongue raking up her slit from her tight hole to the edge of her clit, giving a smirk to the camera once he swallowed.

“You look sexy down there...” Miyuki mused as his tongue quickly went to work. Josh’s arms wrapped around her thighs. A giggle came from her mouth, one hand letting go of the camera to reach down and rake through those chocolate locks. Her toes twitched softly from the friction his tongue was giving her clit, her eyes fluttered for a moment. Josh was extremely talented with his mouth and it always took her by surprise.

Keeping the camera angled downward, Miyuki allowed herself to relax against the bed. Her moans were soft, mingling with the licks and slopping noses from between her legs. The room was quickly filling up with the scent and sound of a couple being intimate, the camera in her manicured hands capturing every moment.

Josh groaned softly, pulling his mouth away from her cunt, prompting a different, more irritated groan from the small Asian girl. “What the fuck...” but before she could complain anymore, she felt that all too familiar sensation of Josh’s middle and ring fingers jamming into her hole.

Her jaw dropped, the camera focusing on his grin before she moved it back on his fingers as they twisted upward, craning inside of her as he started to move them back and forth, slipping in and out of her soaked little snatch eagerly, as if fucking her with his hand was the only thing that mattered at the moment.

“Mine...” Joshua growled out, and for a second she was unsure if he was talking about the camera or her body... or both? He gently took the camera from her hands, and turned it onto her, slowly showing a view of his fingers ramming in and out of her wetness, before bringing it back up to her cute little moaning face.

“Tell everyone who’s cunt this is?”

Those brown eyes rolled softly, her moans stopping for a moment. “Yours, who else would it belong to?” “Sweet...”

Josh’s hand sped up immediately, clapping against the flesh around her hole. Those moans got louder, her legs began to twitch lightly against his body between them, toes curling into the blankets beneath her.

“G... gonna...” her elbows dug into the bed as she sat up slightly, her eyes desperate for a glimpse of what Josh’s fingers looked like, seeing them gleaming with her juices before disappearing back inside of her. The sight sent her right back down, her hands moving to yank at her ebony locks in desperation.

Her first orgasm was drawing closer, and Josh knew it... and his smirk deepened.

“Not yet, not yet, nope,” he panted out, thrusting his fingers in deep for a moment before pulling them out with a grunt. Miyuki felt so empty without him inside of her, she craved the friction, craved a release that only that idiot could give her.

Licking his fingers, he stood up for a moment, letting her juices linger on his tongue for a moment as he dragged the tripod closer to the bed, not swallowing her delicious arousal fluids until the camera clicked in place. The young man loved the clean, yet dirtily feminine taste of her cunt in his mouth. The way she tasted was almost addictive to him. As he watched her body laying there on his bed through the viewfinder, a moment of almost clarity came to his mind.

Josh was in love with that dirty girl. Miyuki was his clarity, she was a good part of his stability and she was unbelievably gorgeous. Something about her radiated pure perfection to him, even as he stood there with a rock-hard cock ready to plow the young woman into the next century, there was still love outweighing the lust.

But the lust. The lust was there as well, and he was ready to completely ravage her tiny frame as his grin returned.

The young man lunged himself back onto the bed, peppering Miyuki’s face with kisses as she straightened one of her legs out, allowing him to roll right back between her legs while his kisses attacked her neck.

Her giggles echoed in Josh’s ears beautifully, her hands moving to rest upon his shoulders as she began to speak.

“I want you to fuck me, really, really, really hard.” “You want me to fuck that pussy hard, pornstar?” “Mmph, yes, please?” “You don’t hafta beg... gonna give it to you.”

A purr came from her pink lips, curling into a smile as Josh held himself up over her, grabbing his condom-covered cock and slowly raking it up and down her lips for a moment before he started to slowly slip it in... right before grunting, letting go of his cock and grabbing her wrist, pinning it to the bed and pushing his cock deeper inside of the velvet confines. His thighs clapped against her skin loudly. The couple groaned in unison, Miyuki’s head arching back, his head hanging down to watch his cock disappear inside of her.

“Fuck... so fucking tight...” Josh began to thrust hard against her body, each movement making her perky breasts bounce on her chest vigorously. His eyes landed on her face as it contorted in pleasure, her nails starting to scratch at his shoulder, he lamented leaving one of her hands free.

The pain mixed with the pleasure, a boundary the two of them crossed time and time again. Josh secretly liked it when those manicured nails dug into his flesh, marked him up and let their friends know who his dumbass belonged to.

Those tough, calloused hands roamed over Miyuki’s body, releasing her wrist to let his hands absorb every inch of her body. A goddess, she was a goddess to him as he pushed his cock in and out of her. His eyes scanned over her bouncing breasts before he grabbed them rolling her nipples between his fingers eagerly as he breathlessly panted above her.

Miyuki’s cunt felt like it was on fire, Josh had brought her close to her brink and pulled away earlier which left her nothing more than a filthy slut in need of a big cock to cum on. The tight, almost vice-like walls held onto his cock for dear life, prompting low, guttural groans from Josh’s throat with each powerful, bed-shaking thrust.

“Baby I’m close...” Miyuki purred out, those hands moving to Josh’s biceps where the nails began to dig and scratch harder. “Please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”

And Josh had no intention of stopping. His own peak wasn’t as close as hers, but he knew her, knew her body, and knew he was gonna make her quake a few times before he was done with her. That was the kind of sex life they had, Miyuki was a fountain of cumming ecstasy and Josh had enough stamina to handle it. A match made in heaven

The bed began to rock against the wall, Josh’s hands moving to stroke her hair as his arms lay on the bed, Miyuki’s hands promptly went for his back as his head buried in her neck, as she clawed at the sun-kissed flesh he started biting at her neck and moaning into it, knowing her to set her off.

Flesh-on-flesh hit the camera’s mic furiously as her moans got louder, higher, until they stopped, replaced with gasps and whimpers.

Josh’s thrusts kept their relentless pace as Miyuki’s pussy began to convulse, muscles in her uterus and abdomen having tensed up and finally releasing, the walls of her vice throbbing against his cock, his groans growing louder. The flesh sounds became much more wet, almost like someone slapping a pond with their palm.

“Fuck... fucking cum... little pornstar...” Josh mused at her, his head still in the crook of her neck, tongue flicking over the hickey his bites and suckles had left her with. Tomorrow everyone would know he rocked her pussy properly, from the marks and the limp he was determine to put in her step.

Once the harsh throbbing of her nether-region slowed down, Josh sat up on his knees, his hands gently dragging down her body as his thrusts stopped, his cock pulling out.

“Bend it over,” he demanded with a grunt, grabbing her ankles and tossing them to the side. Miyuki giggled hard, obeying his command and rolling onto her stomach. Carefully pushing herself up and onto her already wobbly knees. Josh grabbed onto her hips, pulling her into place as she grabbed one of his pillows, and began to hold onto it underneath of her lithe form.

As he looked down at his rubber-coated cock inches away from her slippery entrance, a shiver ran down his body, instinctively his right hand raised, and swatted at her perky rear end.

“Who’s ass is this?” “It’s yours, baby...” “Who’s? Didn’t hear that,” he said with another slap. “Ah! Baby that’s your ass! That’s your pussy!” “All mine?” “All yours!”

With a sharp grunt Josh pushed himself back into her cavern, Miyuki moaning lowly against the bed, keeping her ass perked up for him, making sure he had a great angle to fuck her in.

Soon, his thrusts began to pick up once more, back at the same pace, filling the room with the sounds of his skin banging against hers, and her sweet, desperate moan.

Josh tossed his head back, groaning loudly. It felt so much better all of a sudden, in an instant her walls felt warmer, felt tighter. Perhaps a normal boy would have known what it meant, but Josh damn sure didn’t and kept going. His nails dug into her hips each time he slung her backwards, impaling her on his cock as he thrusted forward into her. A passionate rhythm that was bringing him closer and closer to his own orgasm faster than usual.

And apparently, Miyuki felt the same. Her hands moved, one planting into the bed, the either grasping onto his hand as it dug into her hip, her nails clawing at it in desperation. The camera caught her face as it was contorting in delight, her mouth agape and her moans high.

“Fuck... fuck... fuck...” Josh cried out, keeping his head tossed back and his eyes lidded tightly. Her tiny little cunt was milking the life out of him, it was driving him insane in the best of ways. His jaw hung open, gasping and grunting right along with his girlfriend as he drilled his cock in and out of her.

“Cum for me, Josh! I want you to fucking cum...” she pleaded, still digging her manicure into his hand for dear life. His cock pistoned in and out of her hole, the angle was purely divine, every single sweet spot was being hit, his balls slapping hard, furiously against her clit, a punishment her button was more than willing to take.

It wasn’t until Miyuki hit her second peak, the muscles contracting, releasing and sending her walls vibrating against his cock until he finally found his. As the young woman squealed and held herself up, Josh gave a few more powerful thrusts, shaking the young woman to her core as his cock began to twitch and throb.

Usually, Josh’s thick cum would fill up the condom, it would be discarded and everything would be okay... but at some point, the condom ripped, leaving the head of his cock and a few more inches exposed, and sending his cum shooting right against her cervix, painting her walls white for the very first time.

The warmth felt abnormal to Miyuki as she removed her hand from his, it felt hot and wet inside of her, a feeling she wasn’t used to. Still panting and trying to calm down from the amazing sex she had with Josh, she wanted to ask but her mouth was at a loss for words. Instead, she laid her body down on the pillow nd tried to catch her breath.

“Oh... fuck...” Josh slowly began to pull out of her when he realized what had happened. His unprotected seed began to leak out, and once he finally withdrew his shrinking member, he finally saw the mangled remains of the condom.

“What’s wrong?” Immediately the worst ran through her mind. Warmth, perhaps she had started her cycle while he was in her? Miyuki had always been quite irregular. She had started once while sleeping in his bed, even, and had struggled to clean it up before he woke up, and that was immediately where her mind had went.

But that wasn’t it, it was just a bit worse. Josh swallowed, smirking just a bit, taking it more lightly than he should have. “Broke the condom. You’re too tight, pornstar.”

Miyuki froze for a moment. The main reason they used condoms had been pregnancy prevention, she was confident neither of them had an STD after being together for a year and a half after all. It made her a bit scared, hearing they had busted the rubber and Josh’s hard load had went right inside of her.

However, the more she thought about it, the less she cared.

“It’s fine.” “It’s fine?” “We should stop using them, anyway... I think we deserve to feel each other with nothing in between.”

Josh was a bit floored by her reaction, staring at her body bend over the pillow as he pulled the torn rubber bits off of his shaft. His heart began to beat fast, there was so much love in her words... he barely knew how to react to such a sweet gesture from someone he loved more than anything. Someone that was the sun to his moon, the stars in his sky. His eyes gazed over her, from her ebony locks to her perky behind... yeah. He was in love.

Hopping off the bed, Josh tossed the busted condom into the trash can by his desk, walking to the tripod and giving a smirk and a wave before turning the camera off. Him being passionate and romantic with the love of his life was not jerk-off material

At least... he hoped it wasn’t.

#rami malek smut #josh washington x oc #josh washington #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fanfic #joshua washington #eternally yours by ramimami

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ntaifitness · 5 years

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Incline vs. Flat Bench: What's Most Effective for Chest

How do you choose between the horizontal, incline, and decline bench press for your workouts?

Some of the ways an athlete normally chooses between each seat version revolves around their game, body composition, and strength goals. Each seat variation can be practical for everyone in the right circumstance, no matter their strength game.

Whether you are swimming, pushing a grocery cart, or throwing a ball, using strong chest muscles is essential for everyday actions.

https://www.fitness-china.com/china-seated-straight-arm-clip-chest-rockboye-1005

It is extremely important to prepare your torso muscles as you would any other muscle group. Among the most frequent and effective exercises for working your chest muscles would be the Ntaifitness chest press.

This guide will dive into what a few of the barbell bench press research is saying about using distinct angles to facilitate unique results. In this guide, we will assess which seat variation is most effective for body composition objectives and boosting strength. Keep in mind, most of this can come to the reps, sets, and intensities used, but it's still interesting to check out the study and compare it to what's widely utilized at the gym.

https://www.fitness-china.com/vertical-chest-press-aeroex-6032

There's really no right or wrong response. It is a matter of taste, what your personal goals are, and what exactly you're attempting to attain. To optimize your results, do both kinds of chest presses since they both work almost all the same muscles but hit the muscle in slightly different manners.

Incline Bench Press

Incline bench is an alternate exercise to the flat bench which puts the rear of the bench at a 15 to 60-degree angle. The general consensus seems to be that an incline of 15-30 degrees will put optimal stress on the upper pec while keeping the recruitment of front delts into a minimum.

https://www.fitness-china.com/adjustable-decline-bench-occupied-9021

Most incline benches that cannot be adjusted usually possess a 45-degree angle. If you have an adjustable seat, the higher the spine is angled, the greater front delts will probably be demanded.

Any bench you utilize that's greater compared to the 45-degree angle works mainly anterior deltoids. Because of this, I do not think about this movement that an incline bench press.

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The purpose of the incline press would be to focus more of the work on the upper pecs. The principal advantage in performing incline presses would be to develop the upper section of the pectoral muscles.

After the bench is set at an incline (15 to 30 degrees), you trigger your shoulders more because it's comparable to a shoulder press. Also, due to the angle of the seat, this exercise places less stress in your rotator cuff, which is a common place for injury when using the flat bench.

https://www.fitness-china.com/olympic-incline-bench-occupied-9027

However, there are a few disadvantages when performing an incline chest press. Since the incline chest press puts more stress in the upper pec, it develops this muscle group more, while the flat bench will build mass over the entire pec.

https://www.fitness-china.com/olympic-incline-bench

You're also actively utilizing your deltoids (shoulders) at this angle, and therefore you don't wish to work on your deltoids the following moment. You don't ever want to overtrain your muscles, which may take place if you train the same muscle group two days in a row. Overusing any muscle can result in injuries.

Flat bench presses

The flat bench press is arguably the most popular exercise at the fitness center. Whenever someone finds out you lift weights, necessarily the first thing comes from people's mouths are"how much can you bench?" Since we have a National Bench Day, there has to be something to the flat bench press. It's very good for building your chest upward, right?

As mentioned, the pectoralis major is comprised of the upper and lower pec. When flat benching, both heads are worried evenly, making this exercise better for general pec development. The flat bench press is a much more natural fluid movement, in comparison to your regular pursuits. But exactly like the incline chest press, there are a number of cons.

There are loads of articles and videos that teach you how you can get the most from the flat barbell bench press. With so much information available relating to this particular exercise, it's obvious that the bench press is a worthwhile exercise, right?

IFBB Pro Eddie Robinson states"I feel the flat bench press, with a large grip, is best for general pec development..."

The flat bench is just one of those"large 3 exercises" that I believe have to be incorporated into a training program in order to be the most effective and construct a balanced and muscular physique.

Flat benching requires minimum gear and is a pure movement.

Having a more dominant facet lifting the majority of the weight, meaning that they were likely at a tilt

Just like with all kinds of press, you need to heat up your chest and shoulders properly by using resistance bands and by stretching. With flat benching, you want to be certain you have full shoulder mobility and scapular stability to decrease the potential for injury.

If you find discomfort at all during the flat bench exercise, then you really ought to consider the incline bench exercise or use dumbbells instead.

In the end, it is an issue of preference and what your goals are. The flat bench press does a better job of developing your pecs. With so many exercises to strengthen your chest, the chest press either bench will be effective.

Below are some pointers to make certain that you're performing each exercise properly.

Lay down on the flat bench so that your neck and head are encouraged. If your spine comes off the bench, you might think about placing your feet on the bench instead of the ground. Position yourself underneath the bar so that the bar is in line with your chest. Put your hands slightly wider than your shoulders, with your elbows flexed at a 90-degree angle.

Exhale, squeeze your core, and push the barbell off the rack and up toward the ceiling using your pectoral muscles. Straighten your arms out in the contracted position, and squeeze your torso.

Inhale and bring down the barbell gradually to your chest, again about an inch off. It ought to take you twice as long to bring down the barbell as it will to push this up.

Explode up to your starting place with your pectoral muscles. Do 12 repetitions then add more weight to your next set?

If you are using dumbbells, then it is important that you don't drop down the dumbbells to your side when you're done using them. This is harmful to your rotator cuff and also to people around you. If you do not have a spotter to take away the weights, break the dumbbells on your chest and do a pinch to lift yourself up to a seated posture. Then lower the dumbbells to your thighs and then down to the ground.

If you're new in this exercise, please use a spotter. If no spotter is available, then be cautious with the amount of weight you use.

If you have never integrated an incline bench press into your regular, I have a couple methods to incorporate in certain incline work to your own routine.

Should you flat bench but always Appear to have hurt shoulders afterward:

The incline is going to help place your shoulders in a much better, more powerful and more protected position.

Start light and do the same volume you normally do to the flat bench, whether it is 3 sets of 8 reps, 5 sets of 5 repetitions, or 10 sets of 10 reps. Skip flat benching for a while to see how your shoulders respond to the incline, and when shoulder pain subsides.

If you discover the pain subsides but you are missing flat bench, consider doing a barbell flat bench press. Dumbbell bench pressing will allow your arms to go in a more natural routine and you will still hit the lower and upper pec evenly without the hassle.

If you prefer flat barbell bench pressing on and want to add in some incline spice:

Test the waters and see whether you would rather barbell or dumbbell incline bench pressing.

Adding in dumbbell incline bench pressing following your barbell flat benching will give your upper pecs a great workout.

Since you've fatigued your upper and lower pec whilst barbell benching, there is not any need to do a massive volume of incline benching to acquire the extra advantage.

If you would rather barbell incline benching, that is okay. Doing exercises efficiently and safely is the title of this game, so if you feel more comfortable with a barbell in your hands, run with it.

If You Would like to change your chest routine all together:

Switching your existing chest routine for this can give your muscles a wakeup call and allow you to create the chest you've always wanted.

The flat bench will be your best choice for improving bench press power as a whole for 2 reasons. To begin with, it's the most specific to the target at hand, and this will be improving the bench. That is where sporting specificity kicks in and is one of the chief reasons powerlifter practices the flat bench frequently. Exercise and repetitions of the same movement will be the best for generating results in that movement.

Second, the body is able to handle more weight on the flat bench and has comparatively equal muscle contraction. In the second study, authors noted that 6-RM bench press strength decreased by roughly 25% in an athlete's incline press and around 18 percent in the decrease. If you're able to handle more weight, then there'll be a greater stimulus for your goal of strength in the media. Additionally, this angle makes it marginally easier to add in tools like accommodated resistance.

But do not count out the incline and decline only yet. These movements can be useful when working through sticking points. For example, if you're having issues finishing the lockout, then an incline press could be useful to strengthen the muscles such as the anterior deltoids, alongside the use of a wide grip for problems of their torso.

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Conclusion

What's incline bench better than flat bench for muscle building? Flat bench places an excessive amount of pressure on the upper and lower pec while also placing your shoulders in a vulnerable position. Incline bench puts more stress on the upper pec and front delts and has a steeper learning curve when it comes to proper form.

When deciding which exercise to utilize to construct chest mass, then weigh the pros and cons. Have a look at the mirror and see where you need development. You will find IFBB Pros that tell you if you have a laggy upper torso, you should incorporate incline benching. There are also many people who build a fantastic chest using the only flat bench.

#gym #fitness #ntaifitnses #exercise #chest press

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onestowatch · 5 years

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Get a Taste of Heartbreak in LA with Riah’s Dreamy ‘Heartbreak Magic’ EP [Q&A]

More and more musicians nowadays are opting to sign to major record labels, but Riah finds liberation and comfort in being an independent artist. Still, performing has never been smooth sailing for Riah. As a matter of fact, the introverted songstress admits that she continues to struggle with stage fright. Regardless, the dream pop stunner works tirelessly every day to overcome her obstacles, and she has even managed to release her mesmerizing debut EP, Heartbreak Magic all the while doing so.

Appropriately titled Heartbreak Magic, the impeccable six-track collection is a paradox in itself. Although the dreamy EP focuses on painful heartbreak, it’s more of a light reminder of the unexplainable and positive forces that accompany heartache. The title track sets the tone for enticing electronics layered with saddening lyricism, which is exactly what Riah intended for this glorious project.

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Directly referencing her tendency to be inspired by dreams in the opening line of “Prom,” Riah channels her most vulnerable self as she reveals her lingering feelings for a past love. In the synth-heavy “Wildlife,” Riah treats us to groovy bass lines drizzled over her lush vocals. The dream pop goodness continues in “Nice” and “Growing Up,” which features glittery chimes that shimmer just as brightly as Riah’s smooth voice glides. Heartbreak Magic closes with “In My Dreams,” as Riah once again has dreamt up a gorgeous storyline and captivating soundscape that fades into blissful silence.

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Get a taste of heartbreak in LA with Riah’s Heartbreak Magic below:

With Riah’s major accomplishments over the years, it’s about time we chatted with the rising dream pop songstress about stage fright, love in LA, and of course, Heartbreak Magic.

OTW: How’s your morning going?

Riah: It’s good. Just hanging out. Worked out, got some breakfast. How about you?

OTW: I honestly just woke up. But I’m proud of you! Love being productive.

Riah: I was so jet lagged so I was determined to wake up early and get out of it.

OTW: That’s great. So when you were still only playing the drums, what pushed you to pick up a microphone and attempt singing for the first time?

Riah: Dang, that’s a throwback. I had written songs since I was really little and the idea of someone else singing them while I’m behind the drums was difficult for me to process. So I was like, “Well, if I’m going to write songs, then I want to sing them.” That sort of pushed me out of my comfort zone. I’m pretty introverted and I have crazy stage fright. I just thought it was more important for me to say what I had to say than hide behind something.

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OTW: How do you deal with your stage fright? That’s something I struggle with too.

Riah: I don’t know if I’ve gotten over it. I think over the years I’ve been able to harness it into something positive and something that motivates me. My mom and dad would always tell me it’s a good thing if I’m nervous because that means I care. I’ve always taken that as like, “I have to care 100%.” And if that means being nervous, that’s never going to stop me. I’m just going to push through. So I sort of just deal with it and know that whenever I’m going to step onto the stage, I’ll feel like I want to crawl underneath a rock or I’d rather be anywhere else. But I know it’s bigger than that feeling so I need to push through the fear to get through it.

OTW: You can cope now.

Riah: Yes! I have a relationship with this fear that motives me and drives me to be better.

OTW: How do you transport yourself and listeners to another world when they listen to your music specifically?

Riah: That’s a good question. When you’re writing, you have to envision who you’re singing it to. I think that automatically takes you out of where you are and where you want to be or where you’ve been. It has to pull people who want to go with you. The way that I see the future and the past is different than the way I experience it. Looking back on it as a tool as a way to create another world. It’s just something I have to do because I want people to come with me and feel that. I feel like I just have to pull part all the things I’m going through and find what else everyone is going through. Everyone at the core may be having the same struggle, and it may look different for different people. When you strip things down to the core, you can make people want to come into your world when they see themselves in you. Maybe someone who’s been where I am and came out through the other side.

OTW: I feel like your music is all about human connection. You’re not singing about getting drunk and going to parties.

Riah: Yeah, for sure. At the end of the day, that’s what anyone wants. To be connected, understood, and loved by other people.

OTW: How does it feel to know that everyone can listen to Heartbreak Magic? I’ve never put out an EP myself, so I was wondering how it feels for you?

Riah: To be able to pour your soul into something and show people like, “This is all of me. You can tear me apart. You can love it. You can hate it.” The idea of that is so scary. But it’s been so important for me to share that. I’ve kept it a secret for so long and it’s great to finally take people on this journey with me through the music I’ve created. That’s all so exciting. It makes me nervous when people tell me they’ve listened to it.

OTW: Not only do they listen to it, but they love it too.

Riah: Thank you!

OTW: How does love and heartbreak in LA compare to other places?

Riah: Maybe it’s just the drama of it.

OTW: I feel like more people get involved.

Riah: Yeah. When you’re in it, the community is so different because it feels like such a small place because when you’re connected to just one person, you’re also connected to so many other people. It’s a good thing and a bad thing. When you have a good community around you, you build stronger relationships and you start to see the goodness of the people around you. If it’s not a good community, you see that as well. It’s so hard to fall in love in LA because on the outside of it, it can be a safe place. But it takes a while to get to the core of people’s goodness.

OTW: What was it like working with Chad Copelin on Heartbreak Magic?

Riah: He’s the best. I wrote my first song for this project with him like four years ago. We’ve built this relationship that’s created this space for me to experiment and figure out who I want to be and who I am in music, and outside of music. It’s been a gift to be able to do that. I think it’s so special when you’re nervous about getting someone who you feel comfortable with that creates a space for you to confidently walk in. I love him. He’s the best.

OTW: Right now, you’re an independent artist, right?

Riah: Yeah.

OTW: Do you see yourself joining a label any time in the near future?

Riah: I don’t know. I don’t necessarily have a plan. I think there’s pros and cons to both. I’d love to have the option to do both or to do whatever. I don’t want to be an independent artist because I have to be, but because I choose to be. Same for a record label. I’d love to be part of a label, but right now I love being independent. I love the freedom of that so that’s why I started doing it. I just wanted to get stuff out of my system. There’s beauty in that and there’s also beauty in having a team behind that pushes everything you create. I think they’re both great situations.

OTW: If you could sell out a massive show anywhere in the world, where would you pick and who would be your openers?

Riah: I think because I’m from LA, it has to be the Hollywood Bowl.

OTW: Yes!!! How crazy would that be?!

Riah: It would be craaazy. Who would my openers be? We’re talking dream world, right?

OTW: Yep.

Riah: Right now, maybe Anderson .Paak because I’ve been listening to him a lot.

OTW: How can anyone NOT be listening to him?

Riah: I know right. I don’t know if he would open for me, but I’d LOVE to open for him. I don’t know who the other would be. I can only think of the people I’ve been listening to right now. This is going to be the weirdest show, but Bjork because I’m obsessed with Bjork.

OTW: We ask this last question in every interview. Who are your Ones To Watch?

Riah: I have a friend named Nachbi. He’s amazing. He only has one song out right now, but it’s the coolest thing. I have some friends in a band called Sports.

OTW: Wait… I know Sports!

Riah: Sports is awesome. They’re on the come up right now. Chad worked on their stuff so I know them through him. There’s a band called The Break Up that I also love.

#heartbreak magic #riah #dream pop #pop #singer-songwriter #interview #album reviews

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #198

“i woke up on the wrong side of my floor.”

What do you get tired of having to explain? It's not something asked frequently at all, but since I had to to new doctors and ER workers etc., I'm not a fan of re-telling the break-up story with Jason. What perk of being “grown up” lived up to your childhood expectations? Independence, though I. Don't act on it much with my dependent ass. Who is your least favorite character in the last show you watched? Shoot me, Sara and Con, but so far Zuko as a villain doesn't impress me. If you weren’t in a relationship with your significant other (or last) and you met them for the first time tonight, would you hook up with them? I wouldn't "hook up" with anyone. Is there a place that makes you sad to return to? It's just better for me to stay away from the place Jason and I took our first prom pictures. I actually returned there last fall to take pictures however; I was fine, but it still felt weird. What is the most morally questionable thing that you’ve done? Idk. Has anyone ever surprised you by changing when you didn’t believe that they could? Dad, 100%. What is the best advice a sibling has given you? Something from Ashley regarding the break-up when I was starting to recover, but I can't remember exactly what. Was there an opportunity that you feel like you missed out on in high school? Hm... thought about this quite a bit, and I actually don't think so? I mean I wish my mental health had been better, but I overall had a fair experience. What was the biggest lie you’ve told a significant other? Idk, it's just about impossible for me to tell an s/o a serious lie; or small ones, for that matter. Maybe that I wasn't mad about something when I was? Idk. Have you ever treated someone badly because someone else treated you badly? I'm sure I have at some point, just not deliberately. What is your favorite lyric from your favorite band? Don't- What is the worst thing you’ve said or done while PMSing? Boy, I've done some dumb shit. Probably self-harm (no, it's not something I do now). Did you have an irrational childhood fear? Oh, I'm sure. None are coming to me now... Well, do you consider serious separation anxiety "irrational?" Do you and your significant other have ‘a song’? What is it? Oh boy, a lot. "Pretty Woman" by Van Halen and Paramore's "The Only Exception" get me the most, though. Do you ever give things away to your friends? Don't really have anyone to do that with. Is there anyone’s friendship or relationship, in particular, that makes you jealous? Nope. Well, it'd be absolutely incredible to have a friendship (so in this case, not counting Sara) like Rhett and Link. I'm not even remotely kidding, they were the ones that made me question my former, humiliating outlook on homosexuality because my heart just yelled at me to ship them & I still do lol. Do you have anyone’s tweets sent directly to your phone? Whose? No. Have you ever caused a lot of noise in a library? No. Do you complain a lot? Eh, depends on the day and subject. Have you ever been to a music festival? Yes, but only to take pictures for a photography class. What was the last thing that completely took your breath away? The blood wolf moon. I stayed up 'til like, 2-3-something to see totality, and it was fucking incredible. I hadn't seen a full lunar eclipse since I was a kid. If your life was a movie, what would it be rated? R, probably... mostly due to excessive cursing lmao. Are you more of a talker or a listener? A listener. Have you ever called in at a radio station & dedicated a song to someone? No. Would you ever go to a protest or be involved in a protest? Sure. When playing rock, paper, scissors which do you usually pick? I think scissors. Have you ever tried to write a book? Yes. Have you ever been hit by a chunk of hail? Maybe a small one? Would you ever try any extreme sports? No. Is it true that if you don’t love yourself, you can’t love another? I've always found that idea as absolute and utter bullshit. Do you ever try making your dream up before falling asleep? I just daydream; I don't like, actively hope it'll transfer into a legitimate dream. Ever been on a golf cart? Yes. Have you ever slapped someone in the face? No. Last person you took a nap with? Sara. Are you embarrassed by anything you have in your bedroom? No. Is your last ex currently in a relationship? Not to my knowledge. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Would you rather have your parents catch you having sex or smoking weed? asjfpawe quite honestly, smoking weed. The former would probs kill me. Do you owe anybody money? No. How many times have you gotten into a argument with the last person you kissed? Now as adults and not stupid kids, just a handful. Maybe just one or two serious ones. What’s the most positive thing anyone has ever said about you? When I actually had a brain, compliments I got regarding my intelligence meant a lot. Maybe there's something else, but that's just the first that came to mind. What’s the most positive thing you would say about yourself right now? I'm very empathetic and care a lot about cheering people up. Have you ever been to church? What was it like? I grew up going to church, and at no point in my life did I enjoy it. When I was old enough to not be forced to go, I quickly stopped, even when I was still religious. What’s your favorite thing to do on a sunny day? If it's not hot, swim. How many different drugs have you tried? None that weren't prescription. List each drug, and how it made you feel. N/A Which drug do you consider to be your favorite (including alcohol)? Well, I don't even like the taste of alcohol... but I guess that has to be the answer as it's the only one I'll ever indulge in. Who have you had sex with in order from best to worst (you can use initials if you want)? Only done it with one person. What’s your favorite kind of alcoholic beverage? Margaritas. Do you feel like different alcohols have different effects on you? No. Honestly, how good do you think you are in bed? What about oral? Eh, I'm shy, but I don't think I'm bad. It was good enough to get the job done, at least. I fucking hated oral so therefore rarely did it, so idk. What’s your biggest thing you want to accomplish? Overcoming my hard-as-diamonds anxiety. Three favorite candies. Go. Reese's. Sour Punch Straws. Peach rings. What was the last stupid thing someone talked you into believing? Idk. What’s a song that would describe your life at the moment? I legit feel "In The End" by Linkin Park pretty deeply of the late. Man, somehow been a year and still R.I.P. Chester. ;_; What was the last thing that you shared? Idk. Do you ever eat leftover pizza cold? I love cold pizza. Where are you the most ticklish? FEET. When you’re wanting a midnight snack, what do you normally get? I don't have them. Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Maybe Vulpix. Small and cute and isn't like, actually on fire. Have you ever considered a career in music/acting? No. When was the last time you felt seriously embarrassed? At a VR class when I was talking and completely lost my train of thought and caused like five awkward silences. If your bedroom walls could talk, what would they most likely say? "Bitch u ever move?" Did you ever really believe in Santa Claus? Yes. Have you ever seen a movie that was better than the book it was based on? Maybe? I'm unsure, but I doubt it. Did you like the show Invader Zim? I never really watched it. What’s the greatest/most influential song you’ve ever heard? Ozzy's "Life Won't Wait." Have you ever bought yourself a present at Christmas? I mean, I've been given money to buy something myself. Is there someone that you’re mean to for no good reason? No? I have damn good reason to be unfriendly to Bentley, but not mean. What was the last thing you got out of the freezer? A rat for Venus. How many people signed you latest yearbook? Not too many, but I didn't ask a lot to. How is your mom today? Probably the same as always: Tired and stressed. Do you prefer long or short hair on the opposite sex? Generally, longer hair. But of course it varies on the person. Would you swap your first name for your middle? No, that would sound so weird. Plus I like my name. Would you rather have 10 siblings or be an only? Hm... growing up as an only child would suck, I think. Ten is a hell of a lot, but I'd prefer that over none. What is your favorite soda? Mountain Dew Voltage is my Achilles' heel. Do like country music? No. It's seldom I'll like any. Tim McGraw impresses me most of the time, though, but not to where I'll go look up a song and binge it. Are you afraid of black cats? Not at all. Do you watch the lightning during storms? No, I stay inside. If I'm in a car though, I keep an eye out. Do you like Scentsy stuff? Sure, but I don't buy anything from it. Do you like House? Never seen it. How many tracks were on the last album you listened to? Idr. Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? Probably Dad. The way he interacts with some people is kinda... weird to where people may feel like he's being rude, when he in no way intends it. You can tell some people don't get him. Are there any songs in your iTunes library that you’ve never listened to? No. Who is the most intelligent person you know? My psychiatrist probably qualifies as a genius. Who was the last female you were introduced to? My personal VR coach. Who was the last male you were introduced to? I have no idea. Who is that last person who harassed and annoyed you? I feel like it was some kid that annoyed me, but idr. Who is the last person who made you feel hurt? Probably Mom. What was the last thing you were worried about? My job future. Are you worried about anyone now? Not really. What time of day feels the most magical to you? Early morning, especially when it's dewy with a light mist and a pink sky as the sun starts to rise... whew. Love it. Who are you jealous of? My sisters and an old friend that's a professional photographer now. What is the last physical ailment you took medication for? Nausea. If you are a YouTuber, are you behind on posting videos? N/A Who is a great YouTuber you have recently discovered? Not really anyone recently. What color is your bathrobe? I don't have one. What is a great pain reliever? Depends on the pain? Are you interested in a guy who has a girlfriend? No. Do you sell any products? If so, what do you sell? No. Are you responsible with money? I believe so, having learned to be very frugal from growing up poor. My weakness is tats, though... I have to make a genuine effort to save for other things. Are you responsible in general? Not very, honestly... but it also depends on what I have responsibility over. Do you use a nightlight? No. Kaiju's and Venus' lights stay on, however, if you wanna count that. Do you have a girl that is strictly a friend that isn’t related to you that you can go to? Not really. Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? I guess the good guy? Have you ever watched the original British Skins? No, nor the American. It disgusted me. Do you like Oreos? Hell yeah. Have you ever had a sex dream about someone you barely know? I don't believe so. Were you a cute baby? I was, dude. Would you ever shoot someone right in the face? If it was in self-defense with someone trying to seriously hurt or kill me, that's right where I'd aim. Have you ever sold drugs? No. Have you ever been shot? No. Are you on good terms with your parents? Yeah. What’s your opinion on border control? It's necessary for the protection of our country. I'm totally for legal immigration, mind you. Have you had any major tragedies in your life? I'd say one event qualifies. What do you think of open casket funerals? No opinion, I think... A part of me feels like the risk of someone disrespecting the body isn't worth it, but simultaneously I firmly feel the actual family and those very close to this person have the right to see them one final time looking at peace. Have you ever had a pet rat? Quite a number. I had two pairs where three died of unknown causes, while one developed cancer and passed. Went through two that died last year; one had to be sick upon adopting her, as she passed very quickly, and her sister immediately followed suit. Adopted Mitsu, later another to try to give her a partner (rats are social and aren't supposed to live alone), but she'd already grown territorial, so the sweetheart had to be returned. Now I just have Mitsu. Could you go a year without sex? It's already been three, and longer wouldn't matter to me. Have you ever wore pajamas a whole straight week? I'm just about always at home in my pj's, and considering I leave like, never... but not the same pair that long. Have you ever waxed your legs? No. Have you ever taught a little kid to flick people off? The fuck, no. Are you more of a taker or giver? Giver. Have you ever itched yourself until your skin was raw? I have permanent scars on both shins from that; my skin becomes unbearably itchy after I shave and then scrub my legs in the shower. Nothing seems to stop it. Do you always clear your history after using the computer? No. Have you ever been chased by a cat? Playing with kittens/juveniles, probably, considering just how many we've had throughout my life. Have you ever had your food stolen by a bird? No. Have you ever dyed your hair light auburn? No. Do you take really good care of your feet? Run now w/ potential TMI: My feet are like. Nothing but thicc calluses from when I would walk like crazy. I haven't been able to get rid of them for nothing, and it's been YEARS. Like, I probably need a professional for this shit lmao. My nails are fine and I keep them clean, it's just the callus ordeal. Is the snow where you live the icey kind or powdery kind? It can be either. Do you get blizzards where you live? I think we've only had one that qualified in my entire life. Can't remember if the wind was bad... What’s the coldest you can remember it ever being? With the wind chill, it was actually around 2 degrees, I think. When was the last time you did something rebellious? Um. Idk. What are your favorite things to create? OCs. What’s an old hobby that you want to pick back up? Reading. :/ Do you ever read books to a pet? No. Which has better craft supplies: Dollar Tree or Dollar General? I have zero clue. Which dollar store do you shop at the most? I think Dollar General? What color is your trash can in your bedroom? I don't have one in here. What was the theme of your childhood bedroom? Baby animals. What color was your nursery as a baby? Idr. What was the last surgery you had? A cyst removal. What’s something you prefer to keep private? Lol yeah, ask that on a survey I'mma share with the Internet. What is something cheesy your high school’s principal has said? Idr. I don't remember much of him other than he was a goddamn ass. Are you more of a rule breaker or rule follower? Depends, but typically, a follower. Are you good at prioritizing? Idk. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? HALLOFUCKINWEEN If you’re not religious, were you ever? What made you lose faith? I was raised religious, but just life in general brought me to just theism, which I don't really consider a "real" religion. Is there a particular tradition that you follow from your heritage? No. What are your thoughts on where feminism is today? Yo calm your tits. How would you describe your aesthetic? Likes pastel and soft things but is also gore-crazed and obsessed with dark shit that'll probably lead me to Hell. Are you at all interested in philosophy/theory? If so, what philosopher/theorist caught your attention? If not, would you ever consider reading any? YES; however, as someone with OCD that heavily manifests itself as incredulous ruminations to the point I face breakdowns, I try to avoid philosophical debates. No one in specific has caught my attention, but I mean, I haven't exactly made an effort to learn about anyone. Have you ever played any virtual reality games? What was that like? If not, would you ever like to try? No, but I would LOVE to. Is there anything about technology that scares you? The potential it has to reaching some form of sentience the more and more we advance with it. I ain't about that singularity shit. What’s a song that you know that does a lot of wordplay or anything that you find clever? Shit dude, lots of Otep songs. She can make rhymes and such with the creepiest shit. Bring me back the Otep whose music wasn't just political ranting, please. What do you do before you go to bed? The last thing I usually do is DragonVale. Where did you last go out to eat? Hardee's. Do you have unlimited texting? Yeah. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Jason or Girt. Girt came to the ER after my suicide attempt, my lowest of low points, while Jason saw me in absolute hysterics the night of the break-up when I said something suicidal so he came here briefly. I feel each was like... a different kind of "worst," if that makes sense. One was absolute, utter defeat, while the other was seeing a human absolutely shatter. Have you ever won anything from the radio? No. Will you keep your last name when you get married? No. What song are you listening to? Shane Dawson's "Fuck Up" is a Big Mood. Do you know anyone whose name starts with an X? Not that I know personally, I think. When was the last time you took a picture with your pet(s)? Roman like over a month ago, Venus a while before... I rarely take pictures including me because I'm ugly. Who’s your favorite Muppet? I don't know like, any. What’s your favorite monster? (can be Monsters Inc., horror films, stories, or myths, whatever) These are too many options man. I guess probably Pyramid Head. But I'm crazy for cryptids too man, I love me some Jersey Devil and Mothman shit. Have you ever seen a polar bear in person? At zoos. What’s your favorite thing to order from Taco Bell? If you heard me eating cinnabon delights in the next room, you'd have all reason to believe a porno was being filmed. What do you think of off-brand soda? I'm fine with them. Which do you like better – carpet or wood floor? I generally find wood prettier, but carpet is comfier. Getting down on and up off the wooden floor when exercising hurts, though. Buuut wood is also easier to clean... but also louder... why the fuck am I getting this deep into a question jeez idk basically. What embarrasses you the most in front of other people? Being a 23 y/o teenage fangirl lmao. Have you considered running for president? Hell no. If you had to choose one thing you were most passionate about, what would it be and why? Hm... there's a lot. I suppose ending poverty? Or environmental preservation, which I am already extremely passionate about, but I could actually take more action. Where is the most beautiful place on earth and why? I'd imagine the Grand Canyon. It's so vast and ancient and gives you an idea of just how small we truly are. Are ghosts real? Yes. Are aliens real? Probably. Do you know how to play dominoes? No. What food will you absolutely not, under any circumstances, eat? Anything from an endangered animal. Would you ever adopt a child? If I wanted kids, possibly. What is one thing you’re embarrassed to admit you want to try? *shrugs* Is there something you wish you had said sorry for but never did? I wish I'd told Jenna about the Joel thing. Have you been on your first date? If so, how did it go? Yeah, it was fine. Cute really, though unorthodox as he invited my mother along. It actually did make me less nervous tho. What woke you up this morning? My cat meowing his damn brains out. He does this loud, deep meow when he really wants something, and it woke me up. He does that some mornings, and I have no clue why. Your mood? Eh, nervous. I have a short VR class today, and I have to talk to the woman who handles my case, and I don't believe she'll be happy I haven't applied anywhere yet, even though it's been like, five days... I've been working on getting an Office certificate instead. Did you ever watch The Land Before Time when you were younger? I WAS IN LOVE. Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? Usually. What feeling do you have the most difficulty in expressing? Envy. How do you think you would handle yourself in a crisis situation? Have an absolute panic attack and die lmao. But it also depends on if anyone is in the situation with me. Like if someone I seriously loved was endangered, I have a feeling I'd rush to immediately help them. Does any particular season make you happier than others? Why/why not? Autumn. Beautiful and cool. In what circumstances do you feel most at peace? When I'm with Sara and we're both happy and laughing. :') What is the best thing about being a male/female? Female: It's more "socially acceptable" to show emotions. Male: Don't have to worry about menstruation cycles. Do you enjoy hugging people? Do you enjoy receiving hugs? Yeah. Do you think that luck has much to play in your life? No. I don't believe people have premeditated-by-nature good or bad luck. It's all random or related to your own choices. Do you think you are competitive? Do you really dislike losing? In only a few areas; no. What is a talent you wish you possessed? The ability to draw hyperrealistically. When was the last time you went to McDonald’s? It's been quite a while. Maybe around a month. Could you go a whole day without your computer? Definitely not willingly. Have you ever really liked someone to begin with, then changed your mind about them? Yeah, Juan. Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone, for more than half an hour? What did you talk about? Most likely Colleen. It was a personal matter, so not saying. Has your ex fallen in love with anyone else, since the two of you broke up? I'm assuming Jason did with Ashley, maybe not. When was the last time you looked at your significant other/crush’s Facebook profile? Been a while. What was the last thing that one of your parents bought for you? Food for me. The last time you went to the hairdressers, what did you have done? A muuuch-needed trim.

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