#I’m not Truly complaining about getting paid to do nothing

[jewishmcr]

when I actually have stuff to do at work my job is fine and even good. however I’ve been cursed with the lethal combination of not having that much stuff to do and being a very efficient worker so I spend 60-80% of the work day scrolling on my phone and being bored

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

You look like a fun place to sit.

Gif credits

Pairing: Neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader

Words count: 2667

Rating: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You decide to enjoy a night at the movies, your neighbor Frankie ruins it all. Or maybe not?

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, fluff, sort of romcom vibes (?), smut, enemies to lovers, age unspecified but they are both full grown adults, Frankie is annoying but also cute and lovely and fucking gorgeous, reader has hair, breasts and vagina, other than that no other description of her is given, fingering (f receiving), sexual acts in public places (again? Again. I'm not even particularly interested in doing that irl I don't know what to say to you, please forgive me), pet names (honey, baby, princess), arguing, kissing, no use of Spanish because I terribly suck at it and I don't want to butcher another language LOL. If by chance I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

It’s my first Frankie ff and I’m so incredibly nervous to post it you all! I really hope it doesn’t sucks because I had so much fun writing it today in one sitting ‘cause I’m just an impulsive impatient mess. (Leo sun and Aries moon, what do you expect from me if not chaos? I had nothing a few hours ago, I even skipped WIP Wednesday and btw thanks for the tag @almostempty 🩷)

Title comes from a gif of Karen Walker from Will and Grace that I saw last night, it made me laugh a lot and this thing was born LOL

As usual, English is not my first language so please be gentle, no beta and no proofreading, it’s tiny and it’s all my fault, I’m sorry 💀 Thanks to anyone who will read this!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

“Excuse me, you should stand up, that’s my seat” 

Frankie turns, looking at you with a surprised expression “I don’t think so, you’re wrong” he replies. 

Ugh, your neighbor.

Frankie lives two houses away from you. Last winter you had a fight at a neighborhood meeting because you pointed out that he keeps forgetting to put the recycling bins back in, and he told you to mind your own business and called you an hysterical witch.

A stupid fight that ended up with you not saying hello to each other and various other arguments about your flashy Christmas lights or his overgrown yard. You and Frankie fight constantly, about everything. And now he's here.

You glare at him “I’m not wrong at all, look” and you wave your ticket under his nose “P10, see? It’s my seat and you’re rude”. 

A grin spreads across his face “listen, honey, I don’t know where you got this ticket, you probably made it yourself, I bought it a moment ago and it’s the same seat” 

He takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to you, remaining comfortably seated with a large popcorn box. 

You look at the ticket, him again, the ticket again “how the hell is that possible?! I booked it on their website a week ago” 

He sneers “I told you! It must be a system error, I don’t know, I’m not getting up from here”

You are furious. The theater is filling up and you absolutely don’t want to leave, you have been waiting for this movie for months and you have inspected the theater map choosing a seat that would guarantee you the very best view.

“I bought it first, so I have more right to be here than you do,” you say firmly and Frankie laughs. 

“Where are we, elementary school? Listen, honey, go buy yourself another ticket and leave me alone.” He replies crunching on popcorn.

The way he calls you “honey” irritates you deeply, it sounds like an insult.

“I’m not going anywhere, YOU get the fuck out of here” you hiss. 

“No” he simply replies and then he turns back at the screen pretending you’re not there. 

“Truly a gentleman, as usual. I have no words.” you roll your eyes and search for an usher to ask for help. No one is there. 

The movie starts in 5 minutes and you don’t want to miss anything you paid for. If you went to the box office right now to complain it would take forever to get back in. 

“Fuck” you exclaim and sit down next to him huffing. You are sure that someone will make you get up very early and it pisses you off.

Frankie continues to nibble on his popcorn and looks at you with an extremely amused expression, it seems like the show has become you.

“Why do you care so much about this movie anyway?” he asks you. “Does any of your relatives happen to be in it?“ 

You’re fuming. 

His teasing tone, his vaguely Spanish accent, his smirk, the sound of him chewing, everything bothers you.

“No. Shut the fuck up” you tell him with a death stare. 

You won’t tell him that your favorite actor stars in it, that you have every photo from the set of this movie saved on your phone, that you’ve read every article about it, and that you couldn’t wait to enjoy it on the first day of screening.

You can already hear his raucous laughter. No, you would never tell Frankie anything like that.

“You're not one of that guy's crazy fans, are you?” 

“What guy?” you ask him, pretending not to know what he's talking about. “Gladiator is one of my favorite movies, that's all. I just wanted to watch the sequel in peace. Someone is stopping me, though” 

“That guy, I bet you like him, what’s his name? Paul Pascal?” he stares at you searching for every little involuntary movement on your face that might give you away. 

“Oh for God’s sake, what are you doing here anyway? Do you even know what you're about to see? They are Paul Mescal and Pedro Pascal, two different people, you uncultered swine.” You yell. This guy is impossible.

“Yeah, whatever, so which one do you fancy?”

“Fucking nobody” you lie “I just want to watch a movie after a horrible week at work, okay?” You try to play on his guilt. If he has one, you think.

“Well, I've had a rough week too, okay?” he shrugs without stopping to give you that annoying little smile. “And it's not my fault that this theater is having problems with its computer system.”

You glance at him, wondering if he's telling the truth, it's impossible to guess from his face.

People keep sitting in the front rows and you start hoping that luck will be on your side and that no one will make you get up.

“Okay, look, now we're going to watch this movie and then we'll go our separate ways, please don't bother me anymore"

“As you wish, princess” he replies ironically.

You don't even answer him, you're too busy checking that no other people come in.

Finally the opening credits start to roll and the doors close with a dull thud.

You made it, despite this unbearable guy, you feel victorious.

You begin to relax in your chair and you don't know why you turn to look at him, lingering on his face for the first time in months.

His eyes are fixed on the screen. In the dim light you observe his raven curly hair tucked under his baseball cap, his dark eyes, the line of his prominent nose, his scruffy beard, his mustache, just above a pair of lips that seem made for kissing.

Really, truly, gorgeous.

You're so busy arguing with him all the time that you never realized how handsome he is.

He's wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans, you can’t help but admire the way the fabrics hug his body so deliciously. 

He’s just your type, built up in all the right ways, you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him until the last second. Then the movie starts and you look away.

He’s still your number one enemy, what the hell were you thinking?

When Pedro first appears, you shift in your seat, crossing your legs.

“FUCK” you scream internally “here we go”

Unbelievably stunning in his armor, you’re basically drooling. 

You try to stay as composed as possible but Frankie is next to you and notices.

He comes closer to you and whispers in your ear “So it was all about this guy… the fuss before” You feel one of his large hand brushing your arm that is resting on the armchair and you try with all your strength to remain still even if he causes a storm inside you and especially in your panties. 

“Shut. Up.” You hiss, without moving your gaze. You feel his breath on your skin and it’s intoxicating. 

He chuckles “Yeah, that was I was thinking” and throws another popcorn into his mouth.

Your cheeks burn and you're thankful you're in the cinema, in the dark.

“What’s so special about this guy?” Frankie approaches again “is his penis platinum by any chance? All my female colleagues at work are crazy about him”

You turn to look at him with the desire to slap him “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” 

“Okay, okay, I was just asking”

You hate people talking at the movies. You wonder if you could have a more annoying guy than Frankie next to you. Probably. 

Hotter? Probably not.

This dude hits on your last nerve but he makes you horny at the same time. 

Terrible combination. 

Frankie settles back into his seat and resumes watching the film.

You can't help but look at him from time to time and your desire grows. even if you're offended that he didn't even offer you his popcorn. Rude. 

His mouth pouted and his eyebrows furrowed as he seems all focused on the movie makes you want to cup his face and kiss him.

You can still feel the warmth of his hand on your arm and his breath on your neck.

Concentrate, you tell yourself, it's the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate, the neighbor you hate. Fuck. You want him so bad. This revelation drives you crazier than Pedro half naked on screen.

At a particularly bloody scene you involuntarily turn around and hide your face on his shoulder.

You feel his arm around you “hey, it’s okay. I’ll tell you when it’s over” and he holds you tight the whole time.

He smells clean and fresh, like citrus and sage with a light hint of cigarette that you assume he smoked right before entering. 

Your mind goes fuzzy and your pulse races at an impossibly high rate. 

“You can look now” and it takes you a few seconds too long to register his words. 

“Th-Thanks” you mutter, shifting back to your place. 

Halfway through the movie the lights come back on and Frankie bursts out laughing looking at you. “What?” you ask him with wide eyes “what is it that makes you laugh so much?”

“Your face” he grins “it's clearly painted on it how much you want that guy. He turns you on, huh?”

You roll your eyes “Oh my God! Can't you go sit somewhere else? Two rows down, look how many free seats there are”

“I like it better here” 

You cuss, there’s no way to get rid of him.

He has something magnetic that destabilizes you, your eyes fall involuntarily on his neck, slide along his broad chest and stop at the crotch of his pants. From the way he sits you can clearly see that he is quite big.

“What are you looking at?” he asks you amusedly. 

You immediately look up. “Nothing” 

“Nothing my ass. Did you like what you saw?” 

Fuck. He noticed. You're done for. You hate to make him understand that after all, yes, you like what you saw. He seems pleased, proud, you would so much like to wipe that little smile off his face. As much as you struggle to admit it to yourself, you like him.

“Well, maybe…after all, you look like a fun place to sit” 

You can't believe you actually said that.

Frankie's response is not long in coming, his eyes immediately darken and his smile twists in a mischievous way.

The lights go out again and you feel him tug gently on your arm “come here, pretty”

He sits you down on his lap and as the movie starts again he whispers “was that what you wanted the whole time? Were you offended that I didn’t invite you?” you can clearly feel his smile spread across your skin just before he places his lips on your neck.

You would like to say something back but his closeness makes you confused and excited.

He sucks your skin like he's hungry and you moan in the dark "shh baby you gotta stay quiet while I give you what you want”

You don't know how but you find the strength to reply, "God, you're so arrogant.”

He tightens his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him, now you are practically sitting on his cock. You feel it pressing against your ass, trapped in his pants.

A rush of pleasure wets your pussy and you bite your lips to hold back another moan, you hear his hoarse voice in your ear “Maybe. You like it though” You hate to admit that he is right. 

The heat of his body envelops you pleasantly, he raises a hand to one of your breasts and squeezes it over your shirt. You like his hands. They are big, expert and eager to touch you, they make your head spin. 

You completely forgot about the movie, which seemed impossible to you, if they had told you you would have laughed in their face. In no universe would you have expected this.

“God” you whine “oh my God” His hand slides under your shirt and reveals your breast pulling down your bra, it is still covered but now you can feel his skin against yours. His fingers gently grasp one of your nipples, pulling and twisting it.

“Open your eyes, baby. Watch the movie like a good girl” his voice sounds authoritative, it irritates you and another rush of pleasure floods you at the same time.

“It’s not that easy” you mutter between your teeth as you feel his other hand dangerously approaching the hem of your skirt. He slowly goes up, as you try to hold back and make sure no one notices what he’s doing to you. Luckily, everyone seems enthralled by the film.

At this moment you don't even know why you started arguing so fiercely, if you had known before you would have tried to smooth things over a long time ago.

His fingers reach your panties, you feel them barely touching you and you already feel yourself burning with anticipation.

They move under your skirt, pushing your panties aside, grazing at your outer lips and then dipping inside you “Fuck, you’re soaking” 

He moves them up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness towards your clit.

You feel his heavy breathing on your neck, his tongue running over your skin and his teeth nibbling on you.

“Fuck, Frankie” you cry 

“Eyes to the movie”

You want to turn around and straddle him but there isn't enough room and Frankie holds you firmly anyway.

He applies pressure on your clit just right, starting to move two of his thick fingers in circle over it, the motion of his hand is partially hidden by the fabric of your skirt and your moans die in your throat one after the other. Frankie is rubbing away your sanity, you feel possessed and delirious under his touch.

Your last shred of control is torn by his fingers entering inside you, claiming your cunt as his, curling and scratching at your spongy spot.

Your eyes are still fixed on the screen but your vision is totally blurred, you see nothing, you understand nothing, you only feel Frankie pumping incessantly inside you while continuing to rub your clit with his thumb.

You feel the soft reverberation of his voice behind you, close to your ear “good girl, you're taking me so well”

The subtle Spanish accent in his voice now seems to you the most erotic sound in the world, sweet, melodious, addictive.

He takes you to the edge, you throw your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes so everything goes black and you only feel him, until even biting your lips doesn't help anymore. He covers your mouth with his hand as you explode in a devastating orgasm, you moan against his skin, between his thick fingers that have just left your breast and you already miss them, feeling full and satiated by him.

He uncovers your mouth and kisses your neck, pressing his hand to your hip to keep you from slipping off his lap as your body trembles against his.

“Shit” you mutter “Frankie…oh my god”

“Do you think we can stop arguing all the time now?” He playfully says as he nuzzles at your hair.

“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked, you know, I’m just like that” you reply, grinning and turning around to finally fix your eyes on his. 

“I noticed it”

You take off his cap laughing and put it on backwards and before he starts to protest you kiss him deeply, licking into his mouth, tasting butter and salt on his tongue.

“Take me home”

“The movie isn't over yet,” Frankie observes, and you reply, “that means you'll have to take me to see it again and you’ll pay”

“Fine to me, princess” 

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.❞

Your higher self, love letter to you

YouTube | Masterlist | 18+ readings

Tips | Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

Credit | Divider

Pile 1:

Stop being lazy

It has been a while since you took care of yourself, correct? Why do you keep scrolling on useless videos using social media? Do you honestly think this is the life you deserve? Get off you’re a*ss and do something with your life. get to the life I am in at the moment, because I don’t wanna deal with your sh*t. Listen, princess, I don’t care that you’re lazy right now, I was the same and I got where I am at, so do the same because I AM YOU.

Get off that phone right now, hell you can stop reading the message, I don’t care, but go do something with your life. I know you wanted to start that job that you keep procrastinating to sign, go sign it for the love of christ. Off you go and sign it, I can’t deal with your moping cr*ap right now.

Sure, sure, you might think I’m being a d*ck about it, but guess what? I wish I had the same energy that I am giving to you right now because it was a lot harder for me than it is for you right now. I went through all that sweat, all those pains to get where I am so STOP WISHING FOR IT AND GET YOU’RE A*SS OFF THE BLOODY PHONE AND FIX YOUR LIFE.

Now that I have your attention and have reduced all that bent up anger, let's start off with the real letter. This will be short and simple, pure honesty and bluntness. I don’t care if you’re complaining about me, so suck it up and listen to me.

You can’t let other people’s opinion affect you like it affected me and stalled my process. If you truly think about it, at the end of the day, we all die, time is short, yes it feels long and depressing at times, but in a blink of an eye, and you will be old. Can you truly keep up with being lazy and doing nothing in your life? that feels like the best choice doesn’t it because it is easier, but it is not. It is hurting you tremendously.

Start being yourself because you need to. This is no buts, start now, please.. at least for me if you can’t do it. I want to see you thrive and find the happiness you are getting. Start it now so you get it faster than me, don’t you want to see yourself smiling genuinely again without faking your personality for the likes of others? Don’t you want to have a picnic like when we were a kid without a care in the world, don’t you want to go back to being the same free spirited kid we once were? How about reading out in the grass and looking at the clouds past us and how we were always so fascinated? Let’s go back to that because this is the life we deserve and.. you know what? Spoiler alert! You get the desired best friend you have been manifesting for.. so, change now, come and see me and be happy. Okay? Okay.. see you then and I love love love love.. (x2) you so much..!

Pile 2:

I am so proud of you! ❤️❤️

Hello, hi, love, I hope you’re doing, please be okay. I am very happy at where we are right now, thank you so much for improving yourself for me and getting where we are right now. You and I have been through such a journey, and I find it amazing because we have been through so much.. too much. Too much pain from our toxic childhood.. but I want you to know that I love you dearly and I am so incredibly proud of you and us, thank you for working hard and being there for us when no one else was and thank you for not ridiculing our past self anymore. You’re doing an amazing job and soon we will meet..

Till then, I am watching you with the biggest smile and cheering you on because in reality.. we aren’t broken souls anymore.. we have many people surrounding us and love us for us.. so no more faking it, it’s.. It’s just so beautiful and I’m just so happy to see us smiling for real this time.

- Your lovely you in the future, my sweets <3

Pile 3:

You are worthy, we are strong. Ily.

Please don't go back to them, they aren't worth your time. You care about yourself .. right? You always say you love yourself but then have the audacity to go back to the ONE PERSON, who f*cks you over until you sob your heart out so please stop. You know they aren't worth it, sweetpea so you can't go back. Would you let them be near our younger self? Hell, you wouldn't nor would you even have them as a lover, i know why you're doing this—and it wasn't your fault. That trauma they put us through WASN'T OUR FAULT. We didn't deserve to be beaten all the time, and we don't deserve someone who does that to us in a relationship.

I can't see you do this anymore to us, we deserve the world, we deserve to have everything blossom for us.. We deserve happiness, sunshine following us and letting us know we are the prettiest and so worthy. We deserve someone who treats us with respect and respects our boundaries.. Not someone who uses us for their pleasure.. You know you wouldn't let them do that to us when we were teenagers again until it happened.. We never deserved what they did to us.. So leave them at once.. It is not worth it and their manipulation.. Don't you want to see us smiling like an idiot over something simple again? Being our goofy self because why not? Being that class clown that we used to be, making others smile, yeah sure, BUT MAKING ourselves happy was really the goal. We all know that.

You know I used to think like you as you are right now, that what we had done to us was a lesson and it had to happen because god said so but.. No.. we didnt deserve that sh//t. We weren't their toy to be used for pleasure and we didn't need to protect them because people told us it won't ruin their future.. f//ck their future, okay? It ruined us but not anymore.. I got stronger and more amazing and so will you. All we have to do is know it wasn't our fault and we didn't deserve what happened to us. We are a beautiful soul and we are no longer under their shadow. We are amazing.. Absolutely amazing.. Do you understand? Please know I am here watching you and fighting for you, and you will always have me to be there for you.. My pretty angel.

It wasn't your fault, it was THEIRS. I am with you, you're a fighter and so am I. We will fight this together, just you and I. From you.

(This pile crushed my absolute heart into pieces, I had tears channeling this. Your higher self is there for you but so am I, my dms are open for you to vent. I am here for you, my sweets. And I'll kick their bottom too).

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 38: Misery Business

Chapter Word Count: 5,538

TW

Talk of gambling, car crash, and stealing (brief) KIDNAPPING & Drugging Language Start of torture and suffering LISTEN TO ME, I'M SORRY.

Author's note:

:D Poor Mouse…That is all I can really say to that. I'm sorry. So sorry

Master List | Prev | Next

“I hate all this mistletoe!” Minghao yelled out after his fourth discovery of the day, annoyed that he kept finding the dreaded plant.

“Looks like you’re gonna win.” You laughed, nestled between your lovers on the loveseat, “Wonder what Cheol has in mind.”

“No one will know until midnight.” Seungcheol lounged on a pile of pillows on the floor, arms up and hands clasped behind his head. Comfortable and unbothered. “But everyone will be disappointed they didn’t win.”

“Don’t egg then on.” Mingyu huffed at Minghao’s side as they made another bowl of popcorn (and kissed his friend’s cheek). “Let it happen naturally.”

“Yeah yeah.” Cheol waved him off.

“There is only a few minutes to midnight so we could start counting up.” Seungkwan started, “But you, it looked like Hao is going to win either way.”

“I’m too lazy to even get up and try and beat his score.” Chan snickered, laying at the leader’s side, yawning as he tugged his blanket up around himself tighter, hugging the stuff otter you got him. “Congrats, Hao.”

A quiet murmur of laughter fluttered through the group. Everyone had been close to dozing off for the better part of two hours, another Christmas movie playing in the background. Jihoon was curled up in a ball dead to the world, asleep. Soonyoung was just as knocked out on the floor, hugging his pillow like his light depended on it. You couldn’t lie that you didn’t feel tired since you fell asleep for maybe a good hour there, but it had been a long day overall.

“Alright, let's see…” Mingyu sat down on the couch with Minghao, phone in hand. “In the end, since everyone is done…Hao got seven points, Mouse got four, Vernon got two, and Seungkwan, Seungcheol, and Joshua got one each. So…Minghao wins!”

Minghao huffed, shaking his head with a pout on his lips. “Got slobbered on by fucking animals.”

“Cheol, what was your prize for this year's winner?” You asked, resting your head on Joshua’s shoulder, feeling your boyfriend’s arm tighten around your waist.

Seungcheol sat up, stretching his arms out and popped his neck. “So…Minghao gets to go on a two-week, all expenses paid vacation wherever he’d like to go.”

There was a groan coming from those who were awake, grumbles of how it wasn’t fair, but you gave a thumbs up, laughing happily.

“Good for you, Hao, get your vacation.”

“Maybe it is all worth it in the end.” The winner sighed, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I will think about my vacation spot.”

“No expiration date. It can be used now or later.” Seungcheol laid back down, getting comfortable. “Congratulations, Minghao.”

While you didn’t want to, you and Seokmin had to leave the house to be at work all week. Both of you stayed at your place, spending the evenings cooking or ordering in, watching whatever TV show or movie that piqued your interest. Work was incredibly slow and more unnecessary than anything, half the time you were going through emails or reviewing paperwork. Sometimes you even sat in Seokmin’s office, complaining together that there was nothing to do and they should just be at home. 

“Did you get something for Joshua’s birthday?” Seokmin laid on the couch, his head in your lap, dropping his phone on his chest. 

“Yeah, I was going to ask that before we head home in the morning if we could stop at that bakery he enjoys and grab his favorite dessert.” You patted his head, poking his cheek. “And some other stuff for everyone since we are having a little party.” 

Seokmin nodded, grinning up at you. “We could get a little bit of everything!” 

“Okay, maybe not everything . I don’t want anything to go to waste.” 

“Ah, nonsense, between those who like sweets, nothing would truly go to waste.”

“Highly doubtful, you’d all get stomach aches before you finish anything.” You poked his forehead now, watching his nose scrunch up. 

“Maybe so.” He hummed, curling up and yawning. “I’m so glad this week is almost over. Then we have Shua’s party, then New Years, and back to normal. I want normal back.” 

“Skewed definition of normal, but I understand. The holidays usually suck so I’m simply happy I haven’t been sitting at home alone.” 

“The holidays always suck either way, but now you’ve surrounded yourself with us.” 

“Hey, Min?” You pushed some of his hair back, seeing him raise a brow. “Can I ask about your past?” 

For a moment, he looked away, a look of being lost in thought that you’ve seen before crossing his face. 

“You don’t-” 

“I grew up in a good place for a while. Suburbia, white picket fence, food on the table, good school, smart older sister.” He stared up at the ceiling, glancing at you. “Then…everything kinda went wrong.” 

Carding your fingers through his hair, you could see some of that bright light dim behind his eyes. You regretted asking but said nothing to stop him.

“Mom lost her job first and really struggled to find a new one. Dad…he had a gambling addiction. When they both had jobs, it was easier to pay down his debts regularly, then he also lost his job. Because they weren’t paying the mortgage, the house ended up taken by the bank. My sister got to stay with some friends she went to school with but I stayed with my parents.” He had this far out look in his eyes, his gaze going from neutral to…sad. 

“They couldn’t find jobs, interview after interview they got rejected and one day it was too much for them I guess.” Seokmin swallowed thickly, sighing through his nose. “I got a call while I was in school from my sister…The police found them, their car pretty much wrapped around a tree. From the evidence, it was intentional, both died on impact.” 

“I’m sorry, Minnie.” You whispered, but he continued. 

“My sister really tried to stay on a good path but it wasn’t easy. There was food on the table, most days, but the place we lived was shitty, the area wasn’t the best. It only got worse.” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I ended up having some pretty sticky hands. I stole a lot and got really good at pickpocketing people. Anything valuable was pawned, food that I took. I kinda lied to my sister that I went to a local food bank for it. She got a good job and started to get us set up for a better life.” 

“Then my dumbass pickpocketed the wrong person.” 

That got him to laugh, even if it was weak and breathy. 

“Who?” 

“Seungcheol Choi,” he shook his head. “Landed myself in a chokehold. You should have seen how pissed he was when I got caught. Thought he was going to kill me.” 

“I could imagine.” You gave him a sympathetic pout, maybe a sad smile. 

“Him and Jeonghan were ready to beat the shit out of me. Then Joshua kinda played devil’s advocate and calmed them down. They – or well, Joshua – offered me a job and I stayed with them, which seemed like a good idea at the time. Told my sister I got a job, but I lied about what it was. She only thinks I work for the government now but I send her money every month like Vernon and Wonwoo do for their families.” 

“No regrets?” 

“Never. Like I told you all the way when you first found out. It all makes me feel powerful. I’ve never regretted it at all.” 

“As long as you are happy.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, ruffling his hair. “But…I guess sometimes the brightest lights have the biggest shadows.” 

“It’s been a while since I talked about it. Since I told all the guys, I didn’t have anyone to tell outside of SVT until now. It feels cathartic all over again.” 

“Hey, wow. I thought I was SVT? Us mafia people if I remember?” 

Seokmin laughed, a wide, bright smile spread on his face. “Shut up, you know what I mean.” 

“I know, I wanted to make you smile.” 

It wasn’t too long before you were getting ready for bed, but just as the rest of the week, both of you were on the couch, curled up in your individual places. Conversation was quiet and Seokmin was the first to fall asleep, the soft murmurs of his sleeping talking lulling you to sleep. 

The next day…was definitely going to drag on. The moment you woke up, you felt uncomfortable. Anxiety was through the roof, every inch of your skin inches like you could have peeled it off. You tried to shake the feeling as you got ready and Seokmin stopped for breakfast. He asked if you were alright and you shrugged, explaining you felt like shit but maybe you were just having an off day. 

You sat in your office all day, getting your job done, or trying to at least. The work was slow, yet you were managing to get things finished before the weekend. You’d spend one more night at home then head up to the house the next morning since the traffic would be horrendous after work. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Joshua hummed the question. 

You had called him at the beginning of your lunch break, waiting for Seokmin. 

“Yeah… I’m okay. I really wanted to hear your voices.” 

Jeonghan had taken Joshua’s phone when he heard you called him. “Do you want us to drive down?” 

“No no, it’s fine. Minnie and I will be leaving early tomorrow to be there for Shua’s birthday.” You rubbed your temples, leaning back in your desk chair. “You both know I have my bad days so I’m chalking it up as that.” 

“Did you tell Min?” Joshua has a lilt of worry in his voice. 

“Yes,” You snorted, a quiet chuckle leaving you. “He promised me Chinese food and dessert. I’ll see you both tomorrow, I love you, both of you.” 

“Oh, that’s new~!” Jeonghan snickered, hearing Joshua sigh, muting a thanks for that . “I love you too.” 

“We’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, sweetheart.” 

Hanging up, you sighed, spinning yourself side to side in the desk chair. 

You felt a little dumb worrying them but they were a part of your comfort. The anxiety felt a slight bit alleviated after speaking with them. Somehow they always knew just how to help you. Maybe you should find a professional to talk to, it had been in the back of your mind for a while but how could you tell them the truth yet keep things a secret. That would be more of a struggle than it would be worth… 

“Alright, Honey! I got us those horribly amazing burgers delivered.” Seokmin barged in, holding up the drink holder and the take out bag. “Let’s eat and get through today. I still hold my promise of Chinese later!” 

And Chinese food you got. 

Seokmin and you vegged out on the couch, bitching that work for the week was over and you’d have a few days before you had to get back into routine. You suggested you make a list for the bakery, however Seokmin said you’d both figure it out when you got there, and you weren’t too happy with the answer but still laughed at the idea. 

“Do you have everything?” Seokmin tossed his bag over his shoulder, watching you stuff some things into your tote bag.

“Yeah, it doesn't really matter if I forget anything, I’ll just take it from Hannie or Shua anyways. Let’s get out of here.” 

Waking up with your paranoia and anxiety tenfold from the previous day wasn’t fun. Even when nothing was happening, your heart was beating out of your chest uncomfortably and you had some dizziness from the feeling. You had been awake a few hours before Seokmin, letting him sleep while you cleaned your place, making the two of you breakfast once he woke up. He did the dishes as a thank you before the hunt for his things began to head home. 

The drive over to the bakery was nice, you believed the fresh (city) air was helping how you were feeling. It was nice near the outside of the city, sadly in the opposite direction you needed to be in, but neither of you cared. The adventure itself for a mind numbing amount of sweets would be worth it. 

You and Seokmin spend way too much time deciding on what to get outside of Joshua’s favorite and his birthday cake. There ended up being multiple pastry boxes worth of stuff you’d need to carry out to the car, seeing them still being stacked on the counter. Somehow you ended up with individual treats for everyone. 

“Definitely too much.” You dropped two twenty dollar bills in the tip jar from your wallet, nudging Seokmin. “Give me the keys, I’ll start to load these in a couple at a time.” 

He beamed a smile, handing the keys over. “I’ll wait for everything and pay, then I can start helping.” 

Humming a response, you took the first two boxes and left the shop to head to the car. He had to park a few spots down on the side of the curb, making it relatively easy to pop the trunk and start placing the boxes down. You hurried back for more, seeing the stupid grin on Seokmin’s face that had you rolling your eyes. Once more, you trekked back to the car, laughing to yourself at the thought of bringing so much dessert back. They’d call you dumb, but you’ll just tell them that you could freeze some of it. 

Closing the trunk, you dusted your hands off, turning back towards the sidewalk, ready to head back. Behind you, you heard the ear piercing screech of a car coming to a stop rather quickly. Looking back, there was only a split second before you were grabbed, a damp cloth being pressed tightly over your nose and mouth, breathing in the fumes. 

You tried to scream, to thrash, anything to get away, but your body felt weak. Everything began to get hazy rapidly, whatever they had doused on the cloth was the cause – you guessed chloroform – and despite the mental battle to stay awake, your vision went black.

“Has anyone heard from Seokmin and Mouse?” Vernon asked, lifting his head from the couch pillow. “Thought they said they’d be on the road by now.” 

“They made a stop on the way at a bakery on the far side of the city.” Wonwoo clicked his tongue, pushing some hair from his face. “Probably going overboard so it’s taking a while.” 

With his feet kicked up on the coffee table, Seungcheol pouted, looking over their group chat where Seokmin informed them they were stopping. It wasn’t too long ago that he sent it out, and knowing the dynamic duo, they were most definitely going overboard like Wonwoo suggested. They were going to need to figure out what to do with everything they bring back…

“Watch them come back with a thousand boxes worth of stuff.” Jeonghan’s shoulders shook with laughter, bringing his mug of coffee to his lips. 

“Hey! Where is your birthday hat?” Soonyoung bounded in from the hallway, hollering at Joshua, hearing the other man groan. 

“I’m not going to wear it all day. You do this with everyone’s birthday.” Rolling his eyes, Joshua walked away from Soonyoung into the kitchen. “I’ll put it back on later.” 

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. He scrolled on his phone boredly, thinking of what was going to happen later in the day. Joshua would be locked in his room while everyone else either decorated or cooked, having been divided earlier into who did what. Seokmin and Mouse were on cooking duty, which wasn’t surprising, and apparently both were getting dessert options on top of the cake. He was ready to celebrate today and the next day to ring in the new year.

Breaking him from his train of thought, Seokmin’s contact name popped up on his phone, the ringing catching some attention with how loud it was. 

“Hey, dude, are you guys-” 

“She’s fucking gone, Cheol!” The panicked sob that Seokmin let out had Seungcheol shooting to his feet, concern written in his expression.

“What do you mean-?” 

“She- Mouse took some pastry boxes out to the car- I thought it was fine! It wasn’t even two hundred feet from the shop-” He was hyperventilating, desperately trying to catch his breath. “She was right there, Cheol- and now she is gone- I-” 

His heart stopped, but Cheol shook off the feeling the best he could. He didn’t have the time to freeze up.

“Seokmin, breath for a second-” He rushed to grab his jacket and keys, sliding on his shoes, not caring he was still in his pajamas. “Did you see who-?” 

A panic started to radiate through the room, all eyes scanning for some sort of answer. Seungcheol looked around the room to their worried gazes. He gave a curt nod, a tight lipped gaze, and everyone started to scramble. 

“I was inside- Paying for everything. She came back the first time and I thought it was fine- Then she didn’t come back the second time, I thought she just stayed in the car since I could have gotten the rest-” Seokmin let out a yell and a loud, harsh thunk was heard on the other end of the line. “She was right here! She was right fucking here and I let whoever it was take her! It’s my fault! Her phone, my keys, everything is just on the ground! It’s my fault, Cheol!” 

“Seokmin!” There was command in his tone, enough to get the distressed man's attention. “Send Wonwoo your location, now, and I’ll have him scan the street cameras. Meet us at the warehouse and don’t do anything stupid, please.”

Pocketing his phone, Jeonghan was at his side instantly, concern and stress swirling in his gaze. Seungcheol looked over the group, sucking in a breath to settle the mix of anger and fear coursing through his veins. 

“Mouse was taken.” Those three words were enough to have an uproar of questions thrown his way. His head was spinning and he yelled out. “Hey! I don’t have any answers right now! Get to the warehouse, we’ll figure this out.” 

Almost everyone filtered out, car engines heard from the garage, leaving the three leaders standing in the living room. 

Jeonghan, one who wasn’t easily emotional, looked close to crying. He used his sleeve to wipe his eyes so no tears went down his face. He took in a shaky breath, eyes searching for something in Cheol’s eyes. Joshua placed a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder, clearing his throat  despite the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Let’s get to the city, come on.” There was a stutter to his words. “We’ll find her.” 

“Call all of our team in, we’ll need everyone. Call Sona first.” Seungcheol let out a slow breath. “Call the other group leaders.” 

Nodding, Jeonghan took the liberty of calling Sona, following behind the two as he called her. Seungcheol drove the three of them, speeding way more than he should have to catch up behind Minghao’s SUV. He had Joshua calling Hongjoong, Chris, Soobin, and Minji, explaining to them in a brief rundown and asking them if their teams could meet at the warehouse. 

“Guys…” Jeonghan had barely said a word throughout the ride so far. Each time Cheol looked in the rearview mirror, he was staring out the window aimlessly. Lost would be a good word. “What if we don’t find her?” 

“Don’t say that, do you hear me?” Joshua warned, turning in his seat to look back at him. “Don’t.” 

“We’ll find her, I’ll make sure of it.” The grip Seungcheol had on the steering wheel was enough to turn his knuckles white. “We’ll get Mouse back. I promise.”

There were too many voices filling the space.

All of SVT, ATZ, DC, SKZ, and TXT were crammed into the second floor office. They all arrived before SVT did, dressed down much like their crew for being called in on their day off. Seungcheol did give everyone an apology but the urgency was already in the air. Woowoo, Felix, Yeosang, and Siyeon were manning their computers that littered the conference room table, scouring every camera they could to see if they could find any scrap of Mouse. 

They were able to find the van coming up quickly on the side of the road where she stood behind Seokmin’s SUV, but these people weren’t dumb. They were smart enough to have a relatively unmarked van and used something to block the license plate. Whoever grabbed her was also covered head to toe with no way of identifying them through body features, tattoos, or markings. 

“Though I doubt it, I sent out some boats to keep an eye on the waterways. Whatever coast guards we have in our pockets are boarding any ship and doing searches.” 

“My team is spread out searching with SVT’s people.” The leader of Dreamcatcher paced, pinching the bridge of her nose. “As of right now we don’t even know where to start but they all have a picture of her.” 

“Seokmin, sit down.” Minghao, along with Seungkwan and Jihoon, had been trying to calm him down since they arrived at the warehouse. He was pacing the entire bottom floor while Seonghwa was trying to reason with him earlier. “You already broke two knuckles from punching your car.” 

“I need to find her, I can’t sit around here and let you all do the work.” He glared down at his wrapped knuckles, wincing at the pain when he flexed then clenched his fist. 

“Min,” Jeonghan stood from where he sat, clearing his throat, face puffy and red from trying desperately not to cry. “You aren’t the only one worried here, sit down and listen.” 

“How could I?! I’m scared!” He shot a glare at Jeonghan, throwing his hands up. “Sit here and scratch our fucking heads while they do god knows what to her?! Are you kidding me right now?!” 

“You don’t think I know that!?” The yell Jeonghan let out was startling to everyone in the room, even Seungcheol was surprised. “I have called in almost every single favor I have for help! Everyone here is trying! I’m barely holding it together because someone took the love of my life and you think we are basically doing nothing? Do you not see the small army we have to find her? You aren’t the only one terrified!” 

“Take a walk,” Seungcheol called over the crowd, straightening up to his full height. “Both of you.”

“I’m not-” Jeonghan tried to argue but Siyeon stood and easily guided him out of the room.

“Come on.” Jihoon pulled Seokmin out of the room by his upper arm. 

Placing both hands on his desk, Cheol caught his breath, leaning over some to hopefully ease the tension in his back and shoulders. Everyone, even the other leaders, looked worried. Vaguely they knew about the weird, crazy stalker situation but no one – not even him – thought it would come to this. He was honest with them after the point of the mice box since they couldn’t find anything, hoping someone else could find it out, yet they also came up empty outside of what they had found. 

“Send out everyone you have to search the city. If they would at least find the van, it would be something to start with. I’m not asking any of you to sacrifice your sleep for this, but the guys and I won’t be resting until she is found. I’ll cover any costs-” 

“Much to your surprise, Seungcheol, Mouse has become friends with all of us one way or another,” Hongjoong looked between the leaders before his eyes set back on Cheol. “Even If I tried to stop them, I highly doubt anyone will be sleeping until she is back safe.” 

“You should talk to them.” Minji whispered, looking over her shoulder. “They need you right now, we can handle this.” 

Pushing out a shaky sighing, he brushed his hair back from his face. “SVT, med bay, now.” 

“But-”

“No buts, please. Get Han and Min, I’ll meet you down there.” 

There was hesitation in their familiar eyes, but the members filtered out of the room and down the stairs, heads hung and heavy steps.

“I don’t even know what to say to them-” His words caught in his throat, trying to keep himself together and think straight. “Nothing I say will help them. Nothing like this has happened before.” 

“Don’t try to help them,” Seonghwa stopped forward, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “Be their family right now. They need that, not a boss.” 

Stepping into the med bay, the anxiety in the room was palpable. Each of them were on edge; pacing, leg bounce, or biting at the skin around their nails. While some were attempting to hide it, tears had been shed at the current unknown. Jeonghan was leaning against Joshua, both huddled together. Mingyu was standing at Seokmin’s side, hand clamped on his shoulder as a strong comfort. The latter was slumped over, elbows on his thighs, face in hand. 

“Guys…” Catching their attention, the room fell completely silent. “I can’t…suddenly make this all better. I wish I could but I can’t. I’m not speaking to you as your leader, I’m speaking as your friend, your brother…I will make sure we do everything in our power to get Mouse back.” 

Grabbing a chair, Cheol sat down, his shoulders dropping but no tension was leaving him. 

“Seokmin,” The aforementioned man raised his head, eyes and cheeks stained with tears. “Stop blaming yourself. No one expected this, we couldn’t have predicted any of this. Blaming ourselves will get us nowhere, not when we need to stick together, do you understand?” 

“Guys,” Rushing into the room, Gahyeon composed herself enough to address the room. “The van was found but there is no sign of her. We are hoping to backtrack through cameras but they are asking for Wonwoo to go upstairs for some help.” 

Standing quickly, Wonwoo marched towards the door, stopping to rest a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “We’ll bring her home.” 

Watching him leave, he sighed for the umpteenth time within the last hour. 

“I’m not going to keep you here if you want to go out and search, but no one goes alone, bring a crew. I don’t know what to expect but go in hot if you must.” Cheol stood, scanning each of his family’s gaze. “Seokmin, Jeonghan, you don’t leave here until I say.” 

“Cheol-” Both Seokmin and Jeonghan protested but he shook his head. 

“Neither of you have a clear head to go out. Both of you will help Wonwoo until I think you are cleared.” 

Joshua stood, leveling Seungcheol with a knowing gaze. “And you?” 

“I’m going out, won’t go far, but I’m going to try and find her.”

Your head was pounding, the pain radiating behind your eyes and to your temples with no lull to recover. 

There was something over your head, blocking any light and your vision overall. A twitch of your hands was enough to find them bound tightly. It smelled damp, musty even, and you could hear murmuring but the headache was making you woozy and difficult to hear from the ringing in your ears. You could tell you were sitting down in some sort of chair, metal if you had to guess, and you were trying to get a better understanding of your surroundings, taking slow, deep breaths to keep yourself calm. 

There was a…dripping sound you think, like from a leaky pipe. From the murmuring voices, you couldn’t hear much of an echo so the room probably wasn’t too large and the footsteps that followed didn’t echo as they got closer. 

“Is she awake?” The voice sounded familiar, and annoyed, but you couldn’t place where you’ve heard it before… 

“No, because someone hit her in the head when she struggled.” A deeper, rougher voice answered, scoffing. 

Another scoff followed, along with a click of a tongue. “That little bitch kicked me in the face when we were getting her into the other truck. Wouldn’t stop thrashing around when she first woke up. Luckily she didn’t break my fucking nose. Just the butt of my gun.” 

That…kinda explained the headache. As you refocused, you noticed the side of your head was wet and sticky, whatever fabric was over your head stuck to it uncomfortably, probably from blood. Whichever asshole hit you left a decent cut in its wake, you couldn’t see his face since it was covered last you remembered. You woke up a little bit when they were moving you, you knew that, and you did land a pretty hefty kick to that asshole's face, it was the least he deserved for nabbing you. 

“They are scrambling their group.” The first voice spoke, a low rumbling of a laugh reached your ears past the constant ringing. “They called in reinforcements through their allies. They are searching the whole city top to bottom.” 

“I’d love to see the look on their faces.” A new voice entered, monotone with a lilt of amusement laced in it. 

“I’d love to see the look on Jeonghan’s and Joshua’s faces knowing their little girlfriend was taken.” A laugh followed the statement and you had to bite your tongue. “Get a bucket of water, I want her awake.” 

For a few moments, there were only hurried footsteps heard and the quiet sound of your own breathing. Gently, slowly, you attempted to see if there was any way to free your hands, but it was no use, the rope they used to bind you with was tied firmly with no give. It was digging harshly into your hands. You twitched your ankles, finding them tightly bound as well. 

There was a clank and a swoosh of water heard before ice cold water hit you, tensing every muscle in your body and a shocked shout left you. The cloth over your head was ripped away, your eyes squeezing shut before opening and adjusting to the blinking intruding light from the construction lamps. A shiver wrecked down your spine as the water soaked into your clothes sticking to your skin. 

“Rise and shine~” 

Pushing out a labored, shaky breath, your eyes snapped up to meet one of your capture’s gaze and the blood in your veins froze.

Leaning down in your personal space with a wicked grin on his face was Kihyun. He eyed you deviously, a low hum leaving his throat, clearly amused at the turn of events. 

“Good! You seem to recognize me. No need for introductions then.” He reached out and harshly grabbed your chin, his nails digging into your skin making you wince. “It would break my heart if you didn’t, Mouse . We had so much fun at the gala, didn’t we?” 

“If I remember correctly,” You glared at him the best you could, jaw tight with anger. “I told you someone needed to teach you what uninterested looked like, loser.” 

“I don’t believe you are in a position to make such comments.” 

“And I think you should suck a fucking dick.” Some rage filled part of you answered and you spit in his face. You didn’t have hope you were getting out of here half alive either way… 

“Bitch!” 

Kihyun flinched back, letting go of your face to wipe his own off. He let out some sort of aggravated growl, raising his hand and slapping you across the face. You let out a cry of pain, the already excruciating headache increasing tenfold. 

“I’m gonna have fun with her.” The deep voice from earlier was closer, in your personal space like Kihyun was previously. 

“Do whatever you want with her, just don’t kill her. I’m thinking…a late Christmas present for our old friends.” 

A dark chuckle left the deep voiced man, his droopy, almost puppy dog-like eyes swirling with flames behind the iris. “I can do that…Maybe I’ll get some information out of her too.” 

“In your dreams, limp dick.” You rolled your head down, staring unfocused at your lap. 

“I’m really going to have fun.” Reaching up, he grabbed a fist full of your hair and yanked your head back, staring down his nose to you. “Where should we start?” 

Gritting your teeth at the pain, you glared up at his sinister smirk. “Maybe by shoving your balls down your throat.”

Tilting his head to the side, he gazed over his shoulder to one of his companions until he addressed one of them, Joker. You recognized him as the one that stared you down at the gala all those months ago. Somehow, his face reminded you of Soonyoung, both sharp and similar in the eyes and lips area. Just as Soonyoung, Joker had an analytical gaze that he could see into your soul with. 

“Grab my stuff for me, I don’t want to waste a single second of time.” Your torturer set his eyes back on you, his grip tightening in your hair. “Now, where shall we really start, Mouse ?” 

You huffed but gave no answer to him, watching something shift in his eyes as he thought. 

Dickhead, as you will now refer to him, used his free hand to reach into his jacket, only to pull out a pocket knife. He flipped the blade up and brought the knife close to your face, ghosting the cold metal over your cheek before he dug in some, letting the tip pierce your skin shallowly and drag it tortuously slow. You bit the inside of your cheeks, eyebrows furrowing together as you breathed through the pain. The warmth of your blood trickling out of the cut was nauseating with the metallic smell. 

Fear was present within yourself, you couldn’t deny that you were scared of whatever they would do to you. Minghao had been fearful of them for god sake and that man was a trained killer. The choked up, sick feeling was dead weight in your stomach that continued to grow and grow, but you didn’t let it consume you. No – you wouldn’t let it consume you. You were stronger than you really believed and you had to hold hope that everyone was using all their resources to find and save you. 

“Keep that hopeful look in your eyes,” He chuckled darkly, “You’ll need it.”

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye @gaslysainz @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @vanteel @clownprincehoeshi @kpopandbookschild @honeybunchcrunch @black-swan-blog27 @peachie-wonu @kpopsimpsblog

[skania]

OnK Chapter 149

I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me because I’m always complaining about Aka’s writing, but…

And I mean it when I say that I expect nothing 😭 This was literally my first ever OnK-related reblog and its tags are more relevant than ever lmao

These, too:

#honestly I didn’t think too hard about any of this during my first read #because the romantic endgame seems so obvious that it kind of discourages guessing lmao #but re-reading these chapters has made me appreciate Aqua’s side of his bond with Akane a lot more

Back when I first got into OnK, I mentioned that Akane was the entire reason I kept reading the manga. I didn’t care about the romantic subplot, found Aqua/Kana extremely obvious and predictable, and Aqua plain boring.

It’s only during my second read that I paid close attention to Akane’s interactions with Aqua and I ended up playing myself into both, caring about Aqua and shipping him with Akane lol

This chapter has made me realize that despite everything, I'm not emotionally invested in whether they end up together or not. I’d prefer it, obviously, because Aqua truly is at his most interesting whenever he’s around Akane, and their dynamic has the best development in the manga (so far).

But it’s just like I said before: If they don’t end up together, that’s just Aka’s loss, not mine. I’m just here for Akane 😂

And as an Akane fan, I feel like the best thing for me to do right now is to just take a step back and watch things unfold, because Aka will do whatever he wants regardless of how any of us interpret his manga lol

So instead of posting the long post I originally wrote about this chapter when the leaks came out, I'll just share a a clown gif because in hindsight it was silly of me to expect Kana out of all people to have any sort of meaningful insight into Aqua 🤡

And a couple of things that caught my eye because I can't help myself:

Kana didn't even see Aqua and Akane have any sort of meaningful moment, just those two standing in each other's vicinity was enough to make her throw herself a pity party. How many more times is she going to pity herself and give up? How has Aka not tired of writing her this way? Where did her development from the Scandal arc go? 🤡

So Chapter 147 featured Kamiki thinking Ai doesn't love him and Kana thinking Aqua likes her. It even had a helpful "Cut 139: Misunderstanding" panel and everything. Will this mean something? Who knows!

Kana used guilt-trip! It was super effective!

Oh the irony! Poor Akane looks like she's been hard at work convincing herself that she's over Aqua. And you know what? I cheer for her and respect her energy 100%. I'd rather see her doing her mightiest to help him without any ulterior motives than to have her crying for him and hoping to get back with him every other chapter lol

Akane calling Kana out for her pity-party and for being cowardly was so cathartic that if I didn't already stan her, I'd have become a fan right now 😭 It also means that Aka is 100% aware of the way he writes Kana, so when will she finally be allowed to grow?

Kana's praise to Akane made me so sad though because yes, Akane is pretty and she's talented and she's kind. That's sweet of her to say. But that's not what made Akane someone special to Aqua: it was the way she understood him. The worst part is that Kana ends her praise by saying that Akane is a "goody-two-shoes" but... that's the opposite of how Akane views herself. She sees herself as someone who's not decent and not normal. So it's no wonder that while she gets flustered (it's her dear kana-chan praising her), she seems to get a bit sad/frustrated afterward. After all, for Akane it's probably the opposite. Men would prefer a decent, normal, bright girl like Kana - Aqua included.

I wish someone would tell Akane that she is too ignorant of her own charms and that she doesn't have to act like an adult all the time. Truly the pot calling the kettle black! Sadly, unlike Kana, Akane seems to have no one in her corner in this manga. Aqua was the only one there and the poor guy is barely even a character anymore lol

Overprotective mother or controlling ex-girlfriend? Take your pick!

The English translation left something pretty important out in these panels. Akane doesn't just say "if you have a girlfriend", she says "if you have a precious/important girlfriend". This distinction is very important because it goes to show that... as expected, Akane doesn't think she was an important girlfriend to Aqua. It's like she didn't count and Kana would be the real deal. Oh, Akane...

Which takes me to her very silly, very convoluted yet very predictable plan (in true Aka fashion).

When Akane thinks “I know exactly what you hate”, I imagine she means that Aqua hates hurting and endangering those he cares for. So I'm guessing Akane thinks that if she plays matchmaker and quite literally throws Kana at him, someone he has a soft spot, then Aqua won't be able to go through with his revenge because that would mean breaking Kana's very fragile heart.

In other words, it looks like Akane is going to try and use Aqua's guilt-complex against him and her weapon of choice is love. But not her love, obviously, because as far as she's concerned, her romantic love already failed to save him.

Granted, using Kana's romantic feelings to her advantage is kind of... well, wrong. To quote Akane herself, [Kana] is neither her pet nor her property, but a person. But I'm guessing that Akane may be falling victim to the same loophole she got caught in in Chapters 96 - 98. She thinks she knows what's best, so she's putting her own beliefs aside for the time being.

Kind of like Aqua, actually.

And, ironically, it's Aqua himself who first realized how easy Kana is to use.

So! All in all, I'm here for Mastermind!Akane but I hope that Aka will actually make it worth our while. Will Kana realize that she's about to be used as a chess piece in this Proxy War? Who knows, characters in this manga seem to walk in circles, only being allowed to grow when it fits the plot 😂

Last week we wondered whether Aka would subvert expectations or go the predictable route, and down the predictable route he went. His way of making it less predictable is by including a twist in the form of Akane's ulterior motives, but will this be enough to allow this ol' used trope to lead us someplace new? I guess we'll have to keep reading to find out, but given the quality of the writing lately, I'm not expecting much lol

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

aaron warner x ferrars! reader pt. 4

(continuation from part three)

who knew running a new country was so hard? spoiler alert: apparently everyone but you and your sister. your asylum days never looked so simple.

a/n: hi… i’m back 🔥🔥 i’d like to start by apologizing for the stupid long wait. it was unfair to my readers and i swear i had no intention to leave people waiting. i genuinely forget sometimes people really like my writing </3 and i truly am grateful to the people who read. let’s jus say i have been busy and yet so unmotivated for the littlest things. i won’t bore w the details i’m sure y’all are jus happy i finally posted part 4. again REALLY sorry for the wait and pls enjoy. also now adding borders to my fics (ill edit the old ones too)

word count: 9k

warnings: few plot changes, fights and feuds, violence and blood mention, castle slander, angst, buzzcut aaron 😣😣😣

things were finally looking up for the rebellion. you'd manage to overthrow the supreme commander and his army, the reestablishment no longer ruled over your part of the land - making it open to new possibilities of government.

you never wished you paid attention in your social studies classes until now.

there were so many regulations you had to learn, matters you had to discuss, and, of course, the never-ending paperwork. your least favorite part. it didn't help you were behind on learning the fancy terminology for topics. 'can't people ever just say what they mean?'

juliette's optimism for being a leader was diminishing every time she had to meet with castle on strategy. he poorly disguised his disapproval of leadership upon every encounter.

but you learned to ignore it along the way. it wasn't as if he was ever the perfect leader either, plus you'd get the gist of the whole leadership thing soon. you silently prayed.

in the midst of all the responsibilities, you had to keep aaron from killing kenji most of the time. they were originally getting on somewhat friendly enough terms, but that was before the incident occurred.

that day, kenji barged in with urgency into your room as you were looking over papers. he went on to say there was a 'serious' problem, and you worriedly assumed it had to do with the reestablishment. but it instead involved your boyfriend.

"seriously kenji? i thought we were under attack or someone died!"

"someone will die if you don't handle your boyfriend right now. hopefully better than you've been handling being supreme comm-" kenji was cut off by the click of a gun.

"i dare you to finish your sentence."

with the barrel to his head, kenji quickly defended his words with the barrel to his head. aaron and him bickered back and forth. kenji turned to you for help, but all you did was shrug and mouth 'karma.' then he hit kenji's head with said gun.

"okay, that's enough, can someone explain to me what the issue is here?"

"this is the issue." aaron then turned to reveal chunks of different sizes along the back of his head. you gasp at his ruined hair.

"oh my god, kenji what the hell did you do?"

"i gave him a trim just like he asked!"

this made another argument burst out between the two. kenji denying his mistake and aaron picking the gun back up and threatening to kill him.

"aaron put the gun down."

aaron reluctantly does so, but his glare at kenji doesn't drop.

"phew, thanks, princess."

"kenjii since you "trimmed" warner's hair, i think it's only fair that he does the same to yours." you proclaim.

kenji looks toward you in horror, "no way!"

aaron wastes no time in going to the bathroom and returning with a razor. he gives him a terrifying smile, "i'm only going to trim the edges."

kenji bolted out of the room a second later, complaining about favoritism on the way out.

aaron ended up having no choice but to shave the rest of his hair, leaving him with a military-style buzz cut. you would mourn the longer hair, but truthfully, it did nothing to tarnish his looks.

sector 45, after sending several invitations, finally received a rvsp for an international leadership conference held at your sector. from oceania, is what delalieu told you and juliette.

you started to come to the realization about the lack of history you knew about warner. sure, you knew him deeply now, but you knew so little about his past. castle made it evident when he mentioned to you and juliette his possible connection to oceania's leaders. castle, annoyingly, did not disclose anymore and insisted aaron needed to be the one to tell. yet, he judged how little you both knew about oceania.

warner being immersed into his work left little time for that. while aaron had been helpful in your learning some etiquettes, he'd been closing off his emotions since he father's death. even after many attempts of trying to get him to open up, he vowed he was okay. you had a slim to none chance of prying information about oceania from him.

you felt lost and angry. for being supreme commanders, you and juliette seemed to be almost always out of the loop. castle regarded you as experiments, seeing how two naive teenage girls could survive being leaders. the rest of the world wasn't any different.

you offered the idea of just reading castle's mind, but juliette thought it could lead to mistrust toward you. she believed you both needed to remain calm for the moment, which is what you have done so far. but you were getting a bit bitter playing nice for so long.

at times you felt juliette left you of the leadership issues. she insisted to be the one to tackle meetings and discussion with castle, she sometimes gave answers before even discussing it with you, and even delalieu seemed to report everything to her first before it got to you. you would never bring it up, and just wrote it off as her still getting the hang of everything. but in the back of your mind you worried it was only a foreshadow.

on the way to see the new headquarters, castle rushed to you. he begged you and juliette to reconsider taking warner with you to greet the guest downstairs. you had no clue what he was on about, but played along and told him warner wasn't needed. you quickly caught on to the situation.

you rushed back to your room, put on what you deemed appropriate clothing and freshened up your hair and face. you were still putting on your shoes when you left.

on the way, you thought about how odd it was juliette didn't even bother to inform you. even if you were busy, you both had pagers to contact one another for important events such as this one.

you hear sounds of greetings as you approach the reception. you luckily hadn't missed out on much.

you see kenji along side juliette and feel a pang of betrayal. juliette was subtly shocked and kenji was confused to see you. but you cover it up with a smile as you turn to see the guest.

"apologies for my delay, i was held up with some prior matters." you hold a hand out, "it's a pleasure to meet you, i'm y/n."

the guest introduces himself as haider, and you can't help but notice a glint of recognition as he looks you over.

but that was forgotten as you came to find out haider wasn't aware of the fact sector 45 had another supreme commander as it wasn't mentioned on the invitation. you told him it must've been a mistake, but you threw a questioning glance to juliette.

you felt yourself get lost as the meeting when on. haider didn’t make it discreet he knew warner very well. he made a brief comment on his relationship with the other supreme commander children.

“i’ve got to say, when i first heard about warner being involved with a girl — i had strong doubts. he has never been the relationship type. unless you count lena. oh, but i’m sure you know all about her by now. they were together for almost two-years after all.”

you had no idea who lena was, but you had a strong sense you wouldn’t like the answer. haider had obviously knew this, and faked ignorance with his comment.

“oh. he hasn’t mentioned his ex-girl friend?”

your heart dropped. you glanced at kenji and juliette from the side of your eyed and they held the same face of surprise. you did your best to remain unphased with a polite smile.

“must’ve just not been important enough to discuss. like right now. i’d prefer if we got back on track of the topic instead of digging into my personal relations.”

if haider was impressed or offended he didn’t show and shifted subjects. you tried your best to listen in as juliette spoke with him about dinner, but the thought of warner having an ex-girlfriend floated around in your mind for the rest of the meeting.

the second haider left the room, and you all burst into a discussion for the next step. dinner would be in less than an hour, and you were still filled in with little to no information about haider and his intentions. you knew the next step would be for you to talk to aaron about it, but you weren’t sure you could be alone with him with this newfound information about his past. you got juliette and kenji to come along with you to question him under the excuse that it would be easier than relaying whatever he told you.

before you three could do that, you didn’t forget their actions before this meeting. you knew it would be the worst time to discuss especially with how limited time was, but you spoke without thinking when you saw juliette heading towards the door.

“why didn’t you tell me about this meeting?”

she sighs and brushes you off saying it wasn’t the most important subject right now. but you already begin, so you thought you might as well get some answers, and pushed her for an explanation.

“we’re suppose to be in this together, how could you leave me in the dark—”

“because i didn’t think you could handle it, and quite frankly, castle agreed with me.”

“what?” you were dumfounded by her response.

“you’ve been so unruly lately, and i get it doing this whole supreme commander thing has been challenging — but i couldn’t afford anything with this meeting.”

“unruly? just because i don’t want to listen to every little thing castle says. news flash, he’s made it quite clear he doesn’t support us leading sector 45.”

“he knows far more than us, we should take what he says wisely.”

“j has a point y/n, castle has a lot of experience—” kenji intercepts.

“shut up! you’re just as guilty as juliette. i thought we were friends and then you help juliette hide this meeting from me!” you spit at kenji.

he stays silent, for once. but it says more than enough for you. you turn your bitterness back to your sister.

“was it his idea to only put down you as the supreme commander on the invitations, too?”

“yes.” she reluctantly admits. “castle wasn’t sure if the idea of two supreme commanders would go well over with orher sectors. i swear, y/n, i only found out once they were already sent.”

you didn’t care for reasoning. you were angry at it all. “i agreed to do this for you! it was you wanted us to do this together! ”

“and maybe i’m starting to regret that.”

your face dropped. juliette’s eyes widened as she realized the weight of her words. but it was too late to apologize.

you scoff, “alright. fine. go ahead and do it yourself. go and question warner about haider yourself and talk to castle and beg for his help for dinner. because i’m done being supreme commander. but it’s not like i ever was, right?”

you can’t help but leave a final comment before you stalk out the door, “you know what’s funny? i found out about the meeting because castle wanted me to tell you to not do it on your own, to bring warner, he said. guess you’re unruly to him too.”

with limited options of locations juliette, kenji, or warner wouldn’t be able to find you, you had to resort to being hiding in your old room you were once held captive in.

now less clouded by anger, you facepalmed yourself. perhaps just quitting being supreme commander had been a rash decision. you weren’t even quite sure if you could just quit like that. but you would rather be jobless than take back your words to juliette.

maybe she was right, you are quite unruly. but you had no plans to admit it to her.

you thought back to aaron. you wanted his comfort, but you still were upset about the ex-girlfriend situation. even if you said it was important, you had somewhat of a right to know when your boyfriend was in a past relationship.

you hated how castle was right about how much you lack knowledge about aaron’s history. and you know you should probably be there with kenji and juliette talking to aaron, but you were too prideful, and a little embarrassed to do so.

so you collected yourself as made your way back to your room (taking twists and turns to avoid anyone you didn’t want to see) to prepare yourself mentally and physically for the dinner to come.

unfortunately for you, aaron was sitting on your bed waiting for your return when you stepped into the room. you we’re unsure on how to greet him since he likely was informed about earlier events through juliette and kenji.

“oh my god, you scared me.”

“my apologies, amor. but i had to see you after you you didn’t arrive with kenji and juliette when they went to ask me about haider.”

you went into your closet as he spoke from your bed, picking out a nice dress for dinner. “got into a fight with them and it didn’t end well. then i dramatically quit being supreme commander.” you explained nonchantly.

he was taken aback, “you quit? just like that?”

“yeah.” you confirm walking out the closet with a lilac dress on arm, “you think this’ll be good enough, or it it too much?”

“you’ll look astonishing as always. but don’t change the topic, what happened to that headstrong nature of yours i admire? you can’t just give up after a silly fight.”

you groan, and toss the dress on tour bef next to him, “i really don’t want to talk about it right now. can’t you just tell me what shoes go with this dress?”

“amor.” aaron stands up and interwines his hands in yours, “please don’t shut me out.”

you bitterness rose back up at his words and you drop aaron’s hands. “that’s ironic coming from you.”

“amor, please don’t pick a fight with me.”

“castle once told me i didn’t know you as well as i thought. and he’s right, aaron. any mention of your past and you close right up.”

aaron sighs, “i’m not an open person, you know this. it’s harder for me to talk about my personal life than it is for you. but i mean it when i say i am trying for you.”

“really? then why didn’t you even bother to mention you knew haider. or how about the fact you have an ex-girlfriend! you know how embarrassing it was for someone from a different continent to tell you more than you knew about your boyfriend?”

“lena?” he asks furrowing his brows. “she was barely a girlfriend. haider likely only mentioned her to rile you up and it’s working, so please calm down.”

“oh my god. there you go again! you want to just sweep it under the rug, and i’m tired of it. all i want is a little more openness from you.”

“i have been open, there’s no one closer to my heart than you. please understand that just certain subject are—“

“hard to talk about, yeah i’ve got that.” you exasperated. “i just think it’s important to mention a two-year relationship.”

“it was purely physical.”

your heart stings. “so, physical relationships just mean nothing to you? everything physical we’ve shared hasn’t meant anything to you?”

“that’s not what i meant. i was different back then!”

you turn around, “just go warner. i’d like to be alone right now before dinner.”

aaron didn’t anything else, he knew your word was final. not because of his sense of your emotions, but by the fact you used his last name.

in less than an hour you managed to fight with every person close to you. and you had to see said people at dinner in less than ten minutes. somehow, you blamed castle for your luck.

delalieu knocked on your door to escort you to dinner. you weren’t sure of aaron had told him to or perhaps he had pity that you would be entering alone. either way you were happy to walk with someone you weren’t upset with.

luckily, you had arrived before the guests did. but unluckily, kenji, juliette, and aaron were already there. your usual spot was next to aaron and infront of juliette, kenji sometimes next to you or her. but juliette sat at the head of the table now, kenji to her right and aaron to her left. you had no choice but to awkwardly sit next to warner due to the limited seating. plus you’d rather not show haider theres issues amongst you four.

kenji and juliete silently conversed, your sister ignored you fully while kenji glimpsed at you with a small frown. you could feel aaron turn in your direction, but your gaze focused on the empty seat next to you.

haider arrived shortly, greeted aaron first with a hug, one aaron was visibly discomforted by. then discreetly spoke, both using arabic tongues. which none of you knew he had. ypu almost choke on nothing as he casually reveals aaron know seven languages. the rest of you greeted him curtly, and he took a seat in front of you.

haider wasn’t the only guest at the dinner, his sister nazeera showing up was a bit of a surprise to the rest of you.

nazeera is gorgeous, with her smooth carmel complexion, dark eyes and strong features. her face held diamonds percing; two on her eyebrow and one below her lip. she wore a wrap that covered her whole hair, and it did nothing to lessen her beauty — it enhanced it.

she stared at juliette before she turned to you. you were unsure of the expression she held, and part of you wanted to just find out yourself, but you knew better.

both you and juliette stood up to greet her, and she accepted politely. she gave aaron a mere nod then proceeded to sit down next to you, instead of her brother. but if anything it gave you more of a reason to not talk to the people beside you.

aaron started the conversation about her scraf, but kenji was the one who made an offhanded comment regarding her head scarf, which you learned was called a hijab, claiming it was banned to wear them since it was stabled with religion. nazeera didn’t shy away from answering, she stood her stance and didn’t care for reestablishment rules despite being a supreme commander’s daughter.

nazeera has a sharp tongue and kenji was not prepared for it. you tried to hide you smile as kenji got more flustered with his words. she was highly more likable than her brother.

“are all the other supreme commander kids like this?” you ask her.

“only the ones who aren’t insufferable.” she stands up from her seat, “so, no,” she tells you with a wink. nazeera then announces her departures and leaves the dining table.

you had a good feeling about her. and even though you and juliette were at odds, you knew she also admired nazeera already.

aaron and kenji bickered a bit before haider bid his goodbyes. aaron took the liberty of escorting him to his quarters. a job that likely should’ve been done by you or juliette, but frankly, you didn’t like the guy much to care.

now juliette, kenji, and you sat in an awkward silence. part of you wanted to mend things with your sister, but majority of you felt she should take the first step. kenji looked ready to say something, but held his tongue.

you figured it was the most you’ll get, so you mumbled a goodbye and headed off to your room.

half way there, you stopped. even if you felt you were the one in the right, you were ready to make the first move if it meant rehashing things with your sister and best friend. you rerouted back to the dining room.

before you could enter, you heard talking. you peeked through the slit of the open door and saw nazeera, juliette, and kenji talking.

suddenly, and ugly feeling boiled in your stomach. seeing them all conversing (mainly juliette and nazeera because kenji was mixing his words) made you realize how perfect the three looked together. almost natural. it made you think of how easy it would be to replace you. nazeera would be the one teasing and messing with kenji. nazeera would be the sister you imagined juliette wished she had instead — one who was confident, witted, and courageous. everything you lacked these days.

maybe they just didn’t need you nearly as much as you needed them.

you couldn’t even place your vexation on nazeera. you just met her today, and she was already someone you knew was amazing as she presented herself.

you never entered the dining room. you left before anyone could notice you dejectedly walking away.

the following morning wasn’t better. delalieu knocked on your just as the sun was starting to rise, your restless sleep did nothing to help wake you up. he informed you you’d been invited to accompany haider, and nazeera would likely be joininng. you nodded, thanked him, and sent him on his way.

as soon as the door closed, you grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it. haider was already being a pain, and it was his second day.

worst part was, delalieu failed to mention haider had also invited others.

you were unpleasantly surprised to see all three of the people you quarreled with arriving after you.

you weren’t sure who to walk aside. but on instinct you stood next to aaron before you could remember your vendetta. juliette was on one side of haider and you were on the other. nazeera and kenji followed closely behind.

it was unbearably silent the first few steps, there wasn’t a word uttered. the tension would’ve needed a axe to cut.

you couldn’t help but peek at aaron from the side of your eye. you quickly looked forward when you accidentally made eye contact. he sighed quietly after. you hated how badly you had to clench your fist to prevent yourself from latching it onto his.

haider broke the silence. he asked warner if he would be attending the continental symposium. you and juliette only knew briefly about it. no one ever mentioned the nature of the event to either of you.

but when juliette inferred haider about it, you both realized how big the event was.

“i wasn’t sure whether you’d both attend since the late supreme commander anderson has never attended public gathering.”

“we’ll both very much be there.” you add in quickly.

“of course, we aren’t hiding from the world,” juliette adds in, “when will it be?”

haider’s eye slightly widened as if she asked an incredulous question. but it made sense after he revealed it would be in two days. he innocently answered, but you knew he was satisfied having caught juliette off guard.

“it’s really my fault for that. juliette’s been so diligent with managing all other issues i thought it would be better if i took it off her shoulder’s and handled it. but silly me, i’d forgotten to keep her posted on the date.”

you jumped in with an excuse to defend your sister because even if you two weren’t on good terms, you wouldn’t let someone try to toy with her.

juliette looks to you grateful for the help, and you give her a small smile in return.

aaron added in, “she’s right, we’re finalizing the program with delalieu today, who is hard at work planning the details.”

you give his hand a tight squeeze as a ‘thank you’. but as you try to let go, aaron’s hand engulfs your tightly to stop you. you try to wiggle your hand a little, but eventually it it be.

you bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from smiling.

aaron asks haider for his plans during the remainder of his stay. he mentions catching up with old friends then goes on to say juliette and you must’ve received numerous invitations from the other kids of supreme commanders.

“we haven’t gotten the whole group together in far too long,” haider says.

you raise a brow, “whole group? just how many of you are there?”

suddenly everyone stops as haider’s demeanor goes from unauthentic sincerity to ice cold. it almost scares you.

he harshly grabs aaron’s arm,wretching your hands apart, and pulls him forward. haider asks angrily if he’s shared little to nothing about ‘them’ with you.

“you turn your back on us for this — this child? how stupid could you be? you have to know it won’t end well, i promise you that.”

“hey! let go.” you protest.

haider scoffs and ignores you. “i thought it couldn’t be true you’d fallen for a psychotic girl’s insignificant freak sister. i defended you, just to find out it all true. what the hell happened to you?”

you’d had enough shoved him away with your gift, hard enough to cause him to stumble back a little.

haider was stunned by the sudden force then notices the red aura from your hand.

“what did you just do?”

you shrug, “how could a child like me do something? but if you touch him like that again you’ll end up just like the last supreme commander. i promise you that.”

“is that a threat?”

“why don’t you find out?”

haider laughs, almost delighted by the fact you threatened to basically kill him. everyone else unintentionally lets out a breathe they didn’t know they were holding, especially juliette who had been ready to intervene.

haider requested to speak with aaron alone, promising to keep his hands to himself. you and aaron shared a look, and you knew he’d be alright. he gives you a smile that was made for you, and you return it.

the fight from the say before was long forgotten. you knew no matter how many fights you’d have, you’d do almost anything for him.

part of you still hoped for a grand apology, but this would be more than enough. now, you hoped to eventually make amends with the other two.

you walked off, not quite sure the destination. you figured you might as well go on a walk yourself since the planned one got disrupted. but a hand grabbed your arm to stop you.

“hey, uhm,” it’s juliette’s voice, “do you think we could talk? i mean..later because we’re all so busy and obviously you have stuff to do-“

“yeah.” you smile, “i’d like that.”

you both share heartfelt grins. you wave at kenji and nazeera from your spot and walk back toward the base. this time, with a happier kick in your step.

a good few steps in — you felt it, an abrupt change in the environment. it was almost too eerie, and you realized there was no one in sight, not even the guards who are meant to follow you from a generous distance.

you came to the conclusion it was no accident when the first shot punctured your shoulder. the second through your side.

you scream in agony to as you attempt to flee from the open, but more bullets ensue. you manage to block a few with your energy, but the pain was painful enough to leave some to hit your busy, such as your thigh. but the one that made you topple over was a bullet near the chest, in almost the same spot anderson once shot you.

you managed to block it before it was a fatal hit, but it hit you enough to be painful and draw blood.

you were half conscious, the world foggy and blurry in your eyes. you felt someone approach you and kneel down to tower over your defenseless body. a sudden pressure on your neck woke you up enough to understand this person was choking you to kill you.

you used whatever energy you had left to try and push the person off of you. the lack of oxygen and the increase of black spots made it hard for you to focus on pushing the person off.

your adrenaline kicked in to created enough power to get the man off of you. as soon as he groan in pain, you started to feebly crawl away from the perpetuator. your blood likely dragging on the concrete now. but they composed fast, and grabbed onto your ankle. you fid what you could and grabbed the nearest rock and hit them on the head with it. but ir wasn’t enough to stop them from grabbing you again.

at that point you were worn out, too tired to even move a muscle. the loss of blood was starting to make you woozy, and the bullets seemed far more painful than you remembered. you couldn’t register you were on the verge of death.

but the pressure on your neck never returned. instead came the noises of violent punches and broken bones. a new person crouched beside you, you knew they meant you no harm as they assessed your wounds and chanted assuring words.

in your deliriousness, you babbled on about how they looked like your friend kenji, one whom you fought with and missed so much.

“i’m sure your friend misses you too.” kenji responds, doing his best to keep you awake.

you blacked when another person, stronger than the first, carefully carried you and rushed toward the base.

in the medical bay, you were in and out of consciousness. you remember sara and sonya hurriedly tending you, kenji freaking out in the back, and aaron worriedly beside you. your first thought was, ‘where’s juliette?’

unbeknownst to you at the time, juliette was getting her wounds treated as well. she had been shot too, but not nearly as fatal as you. she was caught off guard alone as well, but her attacker only aimed to disable her. nazeera had been near by when she heard the commotion and saved her.

juliette was shot moments before you, and aaron believed it was worked as a distraction so your assailant could successfully kill you.

kenji was the one to find you. after juliette had been injured, he went to find you and arrived in the nick of time.

it took almost two days before you could wake up fully without passing out every minute. the first face you saw was aaron — who was already at your beside, holding your hand tightly — almost like he was praying.

when he noticed you’d woken up, his face became relaxed. he pecked you on the lips before badgering you with questions about your state. you assured him you were alright, and had to repeat it over and over.

your body still ached greatly due to the poison laced in the bullets sara and sonya explained to you. your wounds were healed, but there were still possibility of hallucinations from the poison.

after asking for your sister, sara had informed you of her situation, but quickly told you she was alright after seeing your worried eyes.

the culprits had been caught and sent to the holding cells, but they had refused to cooperate. meaning there was zero information on who was behind both your attacks.

aaron was monitoring you intently, when you sat up he rushed to help. he hadn’t stopped holding onto you since you woke up, as if you’d disappear if he let go. his eyes were red-rimmed, but you didn’t comment on it.

you felt bad for giving him a near-death scare again, and berated yourself for leaving yourself vulnerable. even worse, since your sister had also been hurt. aaron put the blame on himself for leaving you unattended.

no matter what you said, warner seemed distraught. his eyes told you there was more to the issue, he was holding back. as he remembered what the issue was, he grew distant. his grip on your hand loosened.

“is everything okay?”

“as long as you’re okay, amor.” he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “i have to speak with you about something.”

“about what?”

“not here. let’s get you out of here and cleaned up before we talk.”

you nod. you were more than ready to get out the the med bay. your thoughts went to the coming symposium, with you and juliette being temporarily mia, there was likely a plethora of things still needed to get done.

you were happy to finally get a chance to shower. the grime and blood were now down the drain. once done, you changed and went back into your room where aaron was waiting.

before he could get a word in, you embraced him tightly, and he didn’t hesitate to hold you. after almost dying, you just wanted the comfort of aaron. kenji would call you crazy for putting ‘comfort’ and ‘aaron’ in the same sentence.

you kiss him, after what’s felt like forever. it’s not fiery or rushed, but deliberate and emotional. everything was gone from your surrounding for a moment, it was just the two of you. you felt safe. but then aaron pulled away from you, and held onto your hands.

“amor, i need to tell you something. it’s important.” his eyes are looking at everywhere but you.

“you can tell me anything.” you reassure.

he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his blonde hair. your nerves begin to spike, you’ve never seen aaron so hesitant to speak, he’s almost scared.

“i’ll start from the beginning.”

and he did. he told you the start of the reestablishment, their campaigns, ideals, and plans to take over. then, he shifts to the ‘unnatural’s’ and how after they were discovered, they were exploited by the reestablishment.

aaron tells you about two girls who were willingly given over to the reestablishment to be experimented and tested on. you were getting confused on where the conversation was going.

“aaron, why are you explaining all this?”

“because one of those girls is juliette.”

you didn’t know what to say, you were thrown into a loop you still weren’t fully comprehending.

“i don’t understand..”

“the parents you lived with weren’t your biological ones. y/n, you’re both adopted.”

your reality was warped in a matter of seconds. you never felt connected to your ‘parents’, but finding out you came from a different family?

“w-wait… so the people juliette and i lived with for almost our entire lives aren’t our parents?” aaron nods.

“so where are our biological parents? are they alive? wait… who’s the other girl you mentioned before?”

your head was jumbled up, you were trying to get so many answering at once while still trying to process.

aaron closes his eyes for a second before the green is visible again. “that other girl is juliette’s sister. but it’s not you, amor. you and juliette are not biologically related.”

you were frozen, as if time itself had stopped. you free from aaron’s hands and distance yourself. everything had change.

aaron keeps speaking, saying he only knew of juliette’s real sister and parents and sister until recently. castle was the one who told him the information to put the pieces together. castle was the one who urged him to tell you because the reestablishment was was coming, very soon.

“there was no record of you before you were adopted, i had always assumed it was only juliette adopted. it was only after you came here and i ran your dna, along with juliette’s, did i find yours different from your parents.”

juliette wasn’t actually your sister. the parents and girl you grew up with aren’t related to you at all. everytime you talked to aaron about were grateful for juliette as a sister, he knew the truth the whole time.

it took you five minute of speak again. you didn’t care for the rest at the moment, you still had to have another question of yours answered.

“if juliette’s biological parents work for the reestablishment, where are mine?”

“i swear, i had no idea-“

“please. just tell me.”

the more you heart, the more your heart shatters. to stay and watch over sector 45 while his father left to the capital, anderson had him prove himself. it started with emmaline, juliette’s real sister. he was in charge of her imprisonment and torture. but then his father sent him one more task before he was supreme commander.

anderson transported a man and woman to sector 45, aaron was commanded to get information, by any means, out of them. it went on for a year, until anderson saw no value in keeping them anymore.

his father ordered a public execution, and aaron did as he was told. only when finding a journal of his father just hours before you woke up did he get the identity of those people. your parents.

it was the final straw to send you spiraling. you don’t know if you got on the floor or started yelling first. aaron knelt down next to you, trying to soothe you, but it was only making it worse.

you don’t even feel the tears are running down your face. aaron apologizes over and over saying, no matter how many times you told him to stop. you could only keep saying ‘why?’ over and over.

‘why did you keep this from me?’

‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’

when aaron tried holding you, you roughly shoved him away. his touch no longer felt loving. instead, it became poisonous.

“don’t touch me.”

“amor, please. i love you, so much.”

“you don’t know how to love anyone. you’re a fucking coward.”

the room was suffocating you. you felt trapped and had to get out of there. you got up and booked it out the door, not stopping when aaron called out your name.

you keeping running and let your legs guide you to your destination. the moment you spotted the white door, you came to a halt.

you barge in with no warning, startling the two people in the room. you take big step toward your target and, without hesitation, you slap castle.

“oh my god— what the hell, y/n!”

kenji’s presence does nothing to stop you, “did you have your kicks keeping secrets from us this entire time?”

castle sighs, now unphased by your violence, “i assume warner told you.”

“we trusted you! and all you did was keep us in the dark about our own fucking life!”

“what the hell is going on?”

“does juliette know?”

“i talked to her not long before warner went to you.”

‘oh god,’ you thought. you worried that was the reason juliette has lacked to see you since you’ve woken up.

“miss ferrars, it was not my intention to cause pain to your or your sis— juliette.”

his error struck a nerve, “no, but it was your intention to be a liar and snake, screw you.”

you stormed out in a rage, not before doing a 180 on castle’s desk. you hoped he’d have the worst time cleaning up.

you ran. out of his office and out of the compound. away from it all. you finally stopped after being knee-deep into a forest.

not caring for your surroundings, you sat down on the nearest large rock. it was then you realized how much energy you exhausted. you took in deep breaths to regain your breathing stability. the oxygen filled your lung helped to calm you down for the first time in the past hour.

with no one around, you finally had the time to think straight without anger and despair clouding your judgement. you weren’t even sure if you could exhaust anymore tears.

but it turned out you did. going through the events of the past hour, didn’t help with processing as you thought it would. it only made you relive the heart-ache.

took half an hour to calm down your sobbing. but it was oddly comforting doing it in a place no one would hear you.

you decided didn’t wanna focus on everything you learned. not on aaron. not on being adopted. not on juliette not being your sister. not on your parents being dead before you got the chance to meet them.

you focused on what you could control — the coming continental symposium. it would be in less than a day. you had nothing prepared, not even attire; much less a speech.

you had no idea how you could show up and presume your personality from before. how could you face the supreme commander kids in a state like this? your thoughts wondered to juliette on what her plan would be. but then it hit you; how was juliette handling it?

when you thought about it, you hadn’t seen her all day. she didn’t see you when you woke up, nor before you and aaron talked. she likely didn’t take this news lightly, especially regarding her sister.

thinking about juliette having a sister, that wasn’t you, was painful. your bond wouldn’t be the same. you weren’t blood, juliette no longer had a reason to stand by your side.

despite telling yourself not to, you thought back to warner. his betrayal hurt deeper than castle’s. how could you trust him again? you couldn’t. it was over.

time passed like nothing being amongst nature. the once light blue sky, turned orange with pink hues, signaling the end of the day. you knew you couldn’t hide forever. you had to find juliette.

if your theory was right then juliette was not in her room. you brainstormed possible locations when you bumped into kenji.

“y/n? thank god, everyone’s been worried about where you went, and juliette—“

“where juliette? i need to see her now.”

“y/n… warner told me everything. i know it must be hard for you both, but i think typu both need some spac—“

you snap, “just tell me where she is kenji!”

“she’s not in the best state.”

“take me to her. now.”

kenji reluctantly leads you to the door of anderson’s office. when you saw it was locked, you pounded on the wood relentlessly.

“c’mon, let’s just go.” kenji persists.

“juliette! open the door!”

“go away.”

“juliette, please let me in. i wanna talk.”

“i don’t wanna speak to you.”

“well, i do.”

“you’re not my real sister, so leave me alone!”

“fine,” you scoff, “hopefully you treat your new sister a lot better than your treating me right now.”

“fuck you.”

“fuck you too!” you throw back.

“…bad time to say i told you so?”

you rolled your eyes at kenji’s remark and walk away. your anger resurged, and you needed somewhere to blow off steam. training room had been unfortunate to be your victim.

when you saw no one in sight, you took it as a sign to proceed. in a matter of seconds, objects where tossed across the room through your levitation. weights were scattered, some broken, benches were bent out of shape, even a few treadmills weren’t so kindly spared. you’d feel bad about the damage later, but it felt so good in that moment to get angry.

it was dark outside when your adrenaline was closing to nothing. your only had energy to sit on a mat laid across the floor. you figured you’d take a quick power nap before going back to your room to sleep.

as soon as you closed you eyes, you were passed out. you’d hadn’t realized just how much of your energy you exerted.

aaron warner was getting back from his debriefing with delalieu, when the open door of the training room caught his eyes.

he was more than dismayed to see the damage done to what once was the training center. he was irritated that he’d have to replace basically all equipment. aaron assumed there was violent fight that happened, but then his eyes fell upon your form sleeping soundly on the floor.

now, he was more impressed than annoyed at the damage done. he would’ve been slightly proud of he wasn’t the reason for you to lash out so brutally.

aaron picked up your limp body in his arms, and carried you off to bed; taking advantage of holding you again. because he wasn’t sure the next time he’d be able to.

you were disoriented after waking up in your room, wondering how you ended up in your room when you’d fell asleep in the training room. you threw the possibly of sleeping walking to bed in, but then decides you didn’t care much for finding out.

it had been much later than you anticipated, and you were surprised no one woke you up. you dressed swiftly and headed out the door, despite a dreading feeling brewing in your gut.

first stop was to find delalieu, who actually found you first. he informed you the arrival of the newest guests and listened as he listed name. you stopped when he uttered the word ‘lena.’

“lena? as in warner’s ex-girlfriend?”

delalieu says nothing, but his eyes are looking at the ground. ‘so that’s a yes.’

great, you thought. you broke up less than twenty four hours ago and his ex already shows up.

then delalieu tells you juliette is already greeting guests, so your presence is not mandatory. he likely knows all of yesterday’s events, including your fight with her, so he’s likely trying to prevent conflict before the symposium.

a stronger person would’ve bitten the bullet and showed up anyway. but you weren’t that stronger person today. you would take to chance to avoid people you didn’t wanna see at any point.

perhaps it was a coward’s way, but you believed after everything, you were entitled to have at least one day.

you busied yourself in the office of your room; approving symposium plan and decor, looking through letters, and going through anderson’s old files — provided by delalieu.

kenji came to see you three hours before the symposium. you pretended to not here it the first couple times he knocked, but he was annoyingly persistent.

you weren’t mad at kenji, he didn’t know anything before you. but didn’t mean seeing him was easy, his presence always reminded you of juliette. you three had always hung out. now he was stuck in the middle.

kenji told you nazeera wanted to speak with you, so you granted her permission to enter. nazeera was quick to her point and told you the reestablishment’s plan; destroying sector 45. she advised you and juliette presented yourself strong at the event, to show everyone you’re a formidable enemy. plus, there was the possibility of sudden danger because of the plans the reestablishment had for juliette and you.

you found sudden danger was just always a given in your life.

you weren’t sure how you and juliette could show up united, you both were at odds and still processing everything you’ve been told. it would be nearly impossible to act as if nothing has changed.

were you even still supreme commander? you weren’t sure you ever ‘unquit’.

but, differences would have to be put aside. because everyone will be watching for your next move. and it may or may not lead to the demise of sector 45.

you missed just shooting and punching enemies.

kenji stuck around after nazeera left. you both discussed the danger to come. then, he filled you in on anything you missed, juliette’s buzzcut, warner sulking, the new guests, and, your favorite, lena being humbled by juliette.

apparently, she’d been ‘eager’ to meet you and asked juliette about your whereabouts. she referred to you as an ‘ex-girlfriend’ is what kenji told you. how she knew about the break up, you had no idea.

juliette looked her up and down before telling her you don’t waste your time with other insignificant to you.

you couldn’t help but laugh, maybe you were judging lena before knowing her, but based on that interaction; it told you enough.

once kenji left to get ready, you decided you’d do the same.

your nerves spiked the closer it got time for the big event. you spent a good hour deciding what would be best to wear. you hadn’t realized you relied on warner for fashion help until that moment.

you settled on a floor-length gown with beautiful embroidered and beaded details. you tried to avoid putting any accessories gifted to you by warner, but it was nearly impossible.

you attempted a makeup look, and you thought you did a pretty good job. and if not, kenji never frayed from being brutally honest to your face.

a guard knocked at your door to alert you that it was time. you cross your finger before exiting the room. time to face everyone you’d been avoiding.

everyone who was to go to the symposium was gathered outside the base, awaiting the vehicle to take them to the meeting location. as expected, everyone was dressed formally.

warner was quick to spot you and hurriedly walked to you. you power walked to get away from him, and hopefully find someone you liked at the moment. but, nonetheless, he caught up to you.

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

“please, amor. hear me out.”

warner pulls you close to him, holding your hands hostage at his chest. you look into his eyes, and you can see how tired he looks. he’s hadn’t slept well, and it was obvious.

“what could you possibly have to say to me?”

“what could i possibly not have to say to you?”

“i’m sure you rather entertain you’re ex-girlfriend over day, glaring daggers to us.”

“you know that’s not true.”

“do i? i don’t know anything that’s true lately.”

“i love you. my hearts burns for you greatly, and a moment without you is one i can’t bare.”

“i don’t want to hear—“

“my heart has always been yours. i’ll never be able to take back everything i’ve done, but i refuse to lose you because of it.”

“aaron.”

“you can scream or yell at me all you want, if it means you’ll stay by my side.”

his forehead presses against yours. his eyes are focused on every feature of your face that hes already committed to memory.

“say you forgive me, amor.” he whispers so vulnerably.

you want to kiss him. you want everything to be magically better after. you want to believe this is another challenge you both can overcome.

but you can’t. at least no so soon.

you’re holding back tears, but aaron already has one going down his face.

“i can’t.” you distance yourself from warner. “every time i see you, i’m reminded of your betrayal. reminded how much heart-ache you’ve caused me. it can’t be so easily forgotten, aaron. not when i still love you so much.”

you were thankful to be distracted when the guards informed you the rides were here. but your thoughts switched as you noticed you’d have to be enclosed with aaron, juliette, and kenji for fifteen minutes, especially when you had to sit next to warner because juliette was just as mad at him as well.

you the were first out given the chance. you were overwhelmed by the amount of people who showed. thinking about juliette and you having to speak in-front of them all was intimidating. and likely all of them hoped for your demise. fun.

now, juliette took the podium, and you were next to her. you two have yet to discuss anything, so you’ll have to wing your speech to match the tone of hers.

but before she could start, the chaos begins. numerous people being protesting and berating both you & juliette and sector 45.

it was all getting jumbled, but there were various ‘traitors’, ‘you’re just children!’, and ‘freaks.’

to defend juliette, you move to the microphone and angrily demand everyone to quiet down, you do your best to yell over the voices rioting.

out of nowhere, the stage you’re standing on explodes. you’re both launched ten or more feet back. then chaos ensues.

theres a ringing in your ear, making it hard to hear anything; only you witness it all from the ground. people running left and right, the stage was now on fire, and men in uniform started invading the premises.

you see juliette lying on the ground not too far from you. you croak her name, then aaron’s and kenji’s, but you’re not sure if you’re even using your vocals.

you feel yourself being dragged away, you’re unmoving. you feel numb, not able to identify which parts of you are injured.

it’s all happening on slow motion in your vision.

you can see the same happening to juliette. with your head above the ground you see a new perspective. you finally see your friends, some are lying motionless, others are running.

you find kenji helping others escape and aaron with him taking down as many guards. then aaron spots you being dragged away, and his eyes widen. he’s on the move to reach for you, but his distraction leaves an opening for a soldier to take him down from behind.

it takes five soldiers to hold him down, he’s yelling your name, and you don’t react. they finally hand cuff him, not wasting a moment to inject him with something strong enough to incapacitate him.

kenji follow the same fate, not being able to get away invisible before nazeera knocks him out.

a man stands in front of you, blocking you from seeing the scene. you recognize the black expensive boots immediately.

“seems we both have a habit of not staying dead.”

anderson lunges the barrel of the pistol against your head — then it all went black.

you were so sick of seventeen.

taglist — @ravisinghs-wife @tom-pls-fuck-me @valeridarkness @fallonaurr @whatsupb18 @letspretendimnottrash @heart-an0n @mrsspector-grant @kikilarast10 @nina357 @lupinswolfsbanes (some aren’t tagging D: ) tysm for the support <3

[sky-fire-forever]

It's Fridayyyy~~~ For DADWC (hope it's okay to send a prompt from one of my prompt lists!) how about: "You’re just the company you keep, and trouble tends to follow me" for Zevran/Warden?

Thank you for the prompt! My Warden in this one is Orion Mahariel, who uses he/him pronouns.

It’s not often that Zevran wakes Orion. Usually, it’s the other way around, with Orion’s nightmares about darkspawn and archdemons and Tamlen making him toss and turn until Zevran can’t hope to stay asleep. There’s so much that weighs on Orion’s young shoulders, after all. 

Zevran is always kind about it, though. He never complains, never gets angry with Orion for waking him. He just holds him close and whispers sweet nothings to him until the shaking subsides and Orion is able to think more clearly. 

Tonight is not one of those nights. 

Tonight, Orion wakes to being vigorously shaken and he blinks blearily into the darkness of the tent. “Huh?” He’s awake in an instant, rolling so he’s in a crouched position. He catches sight of Zevran’s terrified face and assumes the worst. “Are we under attack?” 

Zevran shakes his head mutely and relief blooms across his face. “You’re alive.” 

That makes Orion pause. “I’m– of course I’m alive.” 

Zevran lets out a breath and Orion can hear the slight tremble within it. “I had feared– but it’s no matter. You are safe and sound and we can get back to sleep, yes?” Back to sleep? Orion’s heart continues to beat far too rapidly to even think about sleeping now. He’d been absolutely certain that they were under attack and he’d need to reach for his bow, which always lays beside him even in moments of rest. 

Why had Zevran woken him if there’s no fight to be had? 

Then Orion looks at Zevran’s face — really looks — and there’s still the remnants of fear there. And his hands haven’t left Orion’s shoulders, like he’s reassuring himself that his lover is still beside him and whole. 

“Zevran, did you… have a nightmare?” Orion asks tentatively. 

Zevran’s expression flashes to one of guilt. “I apologize for waking you. It is foolish, I know. Dreams do not affect the reality in which we live, but…” He trails off, a light blush appearing on his cheeks. 

“But it felt so real?” Orion guesses. 

Zevran looks away and nods. 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Orion reaches out to cup Zevran’s cheek, directing him to face him again. “I understand. Have you forgotten how many nightmares you’ve held me through?” 

“Ah, but of course I have.” Zevran forces a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It benefits me greatly to lull you to sleep so that I might rest as well, no?” 

Orion rolls his eyes. “You help me because you care,” he says. “And I care about you.” 

He reaches out and pulls Zevran into a tight embrace, keeping his movements slow enough that Zevran can pull away if he truly wants to. He doesn’t. 

Instead, he wraps his arms around Orion and holds him tightly, curling his body so his head rests against Orion’s chest, right above his heart. There’s a long moment of silence where Orion just holds Zevran close and strokes his hair. He can’t think of any sweet nothings to whisper to him, so he doesn’t bother trying. He just holds the man he loves tightly and without judgment. 

“The Crows killed you,” Zevran says eventually. “In my dream, they slaughtered you while I wasn’t looking just to get back at me. I let down my guard and you paid the price.” 

Orion allows that information to sink in. “It wasn’t real.” 

“It could be.” Zevran pulls away. “You are the company you keep and trouble tends to follow me. The Crows will hunt me down eventually.” 

“And I’ll be with you when they do.” Orion takes Zevran’s hand in his own, squeezing tightly. “We won’t be caught unaware.” 

“Don’t be foolish.” Zevran yanks his hand away. “They are assassins. The best assassins in the world. Do you think they would be unable to kill you quietly if they wish to?” 

Orion stares at him, shocked by this outburst. It feels strange, hearing Zevran be so devoid of humor and light, to instead speak of Orion’s death with such burning rage inside of him. Rage and fear. 

Though, Orion supposes he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always known Zevran to care more than he lets on. He takes things more seriously than he wants to reveal and he loves more than he wants anyone to understand. 

“They won’t kill me,” Orion says softly, studying the tenseness of Zevran’s shoulders and wanting nothing more than to smooth out that tension. “They won’t because I have you to protect me.” 

Zevran snorts. “I’m the reason you’d even be put in such a position. If you had killed me when–”

“But I didn’t,” Orion says firmly, reaching out to grip Zevran by the shoulders. “I didn’t kill you and now you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. If the Crows come, I have no doubt you’ll save me again.” Zevran searches Orion’s face, something haunted in his eyes. “You’d put that much faith in me?” 

“I would.” 

A moment of silence passes between them before Zevran sighs and pulls Orion back into an embrace. “All this talk of death is depressing, no? Let’s go back to sleep.” 

It’s an end to the conversation if Orion’s ever heard one, but Zevran seems a bit more at ease, so Orion allows him to lead him back to a sleeping position. They hold each other close and this time, no nightmares wake them. 

[emi-writings]

Wilbur was a boring hero with gimmicky powers. Technoblade was the top hero in a league of his own. Niki was an underappreciated hero. As far as they knew, they shared nothing in common.

Phil and Kristin used to be heroes, a long time ago. Now, they’re villains, looking for the children that were taken from them.

Tommy is just a menace of a villain, living his best life and causing problems with his friends.

“Come on, Songbird. Make this easy for both of us.”

If he says my hero name like that one more time, Wilbur thought, I’m applying for a rebrand!

“How about you make this easier and let me arrest you!” Wilbur snapped back, “I’m sure you can afford a good lawyer!”

The villain, Royale, just laughed in that infuriatingly smug laugh and threw more playing cards at him. None of the attacks were aimed anywhere vital, it was clear that the supervillain had been trying to down him. Wilbur just ducked behind a billboard, his wings aching a little from the effort.

Not that it would help much, since they were both avians.

Royale wasn’t a villain that usually left his territory, especially considering how hard he fought for the section of the city he had completely taken over. But whenever he happened to decide to make himself known in the hero protected districts, he wasn’t usually so subtle. He was a showoff, he made it clear what he was doing, and he liked to be credited with his crimes. Especially since they usually were large scale and disruptive at best, destructive at worst.

Wilbur had been sent by the Hero Committee to deal with a domestic dispute. It was reported as a call from some rich sponsor, something about a disgruntled former employee. In Wilbur’s opinion, it had been a pathetic use of a hero’s abilities, but he wouldn’t complain about getting paid to stand there and glare at someone until they just leave. Instead, Wilbur walked into the apartment to see the rich bastard tied up and gagged in the corner and Royale reclined in a chair with his legs crossed, the guy’s phone in his hand.

There was only ever one reason why Royale went subtle – he wanted information on heroes to sell to other villains.

Needless to say, Wilbur bolted immediately, which resulted in a chase.

“Songbird! Come on, I just want to you’re face!” Royale called, the sound of his wings beating against the wind getting louder as he approached the billboard.

Wilbur huffed, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!”

Another laugh, “I’m trying to be nice. But if you want to play around…”

The air around Wilbur began to fill with vibrant colors as Royale tapped into his illusion powers. It was like Wilbur was trapped inside a giant kaleidoscope, the constantly shifting patterns and colors were dizzying. The second Wilbur felt a brush of a talon against his wings, Wilbur turned and screeched.

The illusion shattered as Royale was sent flying back at the sonic shriek.

Wilbur’s abilities were tedious to master, and inconvenient since he needed an instrument to truly make his powers work, but he’d learnt rather quickly how to utilize his voice for as a quick, easy weapon.

As Royale crashed throw the billboard – which Wilbur winced at, he was likely to get written up for that – the mockingbird avian looked around for the next chance to escape. Only, without warning, a lightning bolt was fired right past his head. Wilbur immediately moved in the opposite direction and whipped around. As expected, Totem looked up at him.

So Royale brought in backup… that can’t be good.

Wilbur weaved in and out of different bolts of lightning that were thrown at him, only to be surprised by a tackle from below. More psychedelic visions filled his head as Royale overwhelmed him with illusion, a hand over his mouth prevented him from using his voice to activate his powers. His head pounded as he tried to fight off hands he couldn’t see from ripping away his mask. Unfortunately, his mask was designed to look like a blue blindfold, so it just needed to be tugged harshly enough come undone.

“There you are, Songbird,” Royale said between, “And now I just need to grab just a little something. Sorry in advance.”

“What?” Wilbur barely-audibly screeched, before immediately being answered by a tug in his hair, “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Another tug, this time to a feather, “This feels just as creepy for you as it does for me, Songbird.”

Wilbur screeched again, trying to hit the right note for his powers to work despite the hand over his mouth.

“Again, sorry, but I’m being paid way too much to let this go.”

Paid. That word carried a lot of weight. Because it meant that Royale hadn’t just been searching for a random hero identity to add to his collection. It meant that Royale wasn’t going to offer it up only if someone offered him the right payment. No, what that meant was that someone specifically wanted information on him, and paid Royale upfront for it.

Eventually, the weight on top of him left and the visions faded from his eyes. He was left alone on a rooftop, no villains in sight.

Wilbur lifted his com to his lips, “Songbird reporting in.”

“What is it, Songbird?”

“Royale got to me,” Wilbur said, “And I think he stole DNA samples?”

There was a long pause before his next order, “Report to the HC Tower. Now.”

“You don’t want a further report of the incident?” Wilbur asked.

“We’re adjusting the roster to cover for your absence,” The person on the other end reported, “Report straight to the HC Tower, the receptionist will tell you where to go from there.”

Yeah, he was totally fucked.

Wilbur brushed himself off and fixed his hero outfit as he walked through the halls of the Hero Committee Tower. His overcoat was black, an asymmetrical cut with one side being more vest length and the other being more trench coat length. His undershirt was a long sleeved dark blue one, which was coupled with black pants and black combat boots. All dark colors, so luckily dirt or blood was easily dealt with or hidden. He didn’t need to get lectured about his uniform being messed up on top of the lecture he was sure he was about to receive.

The directions he had been given was to one of the higher up offices, some kind of director the mockingbird had already forgotten the name of. Wilbur had never been up so high in the tower, he had only been a B-Tier Hero, so he wasn’t worth it as far as the higher ups were concerned. Only A-Tier and S-Tier heroes ever got called up there.

Unless someone had fucked up majorly.

Wilbur shook his head; he couldn’t allow himself to become overwhelmed. He needed to keep his cool if he wanted to think his way out of the situation. There wasn’t much Royale could find on him, he’d been in the Hero Committee’s care his entire life, he didn’t even legally exist as far as the outside world was concerned. Sure, the villain knew his face, but there is only so much that can bee done with that. He needed to lead with that when being reprimanded.

With that plan in mind, Wilbur pushed open the doors to the office.  

And in seconds his plans were thrown out the window.

Leaning against one of the walls in the room, arms crossed, was Arsenal. He was dressed in a poetry blouse, black slacks, combat boots and a giant, cozy look cape, his identity protected by a pig mask. In one of the three chairs was another figure in black and gold, he couldn’t make out the outfit properly, but he recognized the elegant half mask the woman wore as belonging to Phoenix.

Wilbur had a gimmicky power, his power technically allowed him to do anything, but he had to work out the right order and amount of notes needed first. Very inconvenient, but he had proven to have natural talent as a composer. These other two heroes? No one in their right mind would call their powers gimmick powers.

Arsenal was exactly as the name implied, a full-on tank of a man that could create weapons out of nothing to use in combat. When paired with his fighting skills, he was a terrifying sight for any villain. He was not only an S-Tier Hero, but also considered the top hero by everyone. He never made that many public appearances on talk shows or anything, but he was one of the few heroes who could probably get away with that.

Phoenix was a C-Tier Hero, and Wilbur knew that had to be because was a woman. There is no way he should be higher than someone who could burn the city to ash with ease. Her fire powers coupled with her avian nature meant that she could easily bring hell to her enemies. The few fans she had considered her to be cute and charming, though that unfortunately came with some creeps. Either way, she had his respect as a hero.

“Songbird, I see you have finally arrived,” the director gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk, “Have a seat.”

Wilbur tried not to grimace at the lack of accommodation for his wings as he sat down in one of the chairs.

“Let’s not beat around the bush,” Arsenal said, “What’s going on?”

The director cleared his throat, “Right. As I am sure all three of you are aware, Royale has recently been more… thorough in his investigations into hero identities recently. All three of you were victims of traps set up by him.”

“He mentioned something to me. About getting paid,” Wilbur said.

“We have reason to believe to you three specifically are the ones he’s looking for. And that the ones who want this information are Angel, Goddess and Shift,” the director continued.

Wilbur couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.

The director narrowed his eyes, “Something funny, Songbird?”

“Sorry, it’s just… you added Shift on the end, like he was as powerful or intimidating as Goddess or Angel,” Wilbur said, “The guy has the worst variation of a shapeshifting power ever, he’s not someone I’d rank up there with the man who can’t miss and the one-woman army.”

Arsenal nodded, “Shift sounds like he’s twelve.”

“Regardless of that, Angel and Goddess still pose a threat to you. All three of you are being ordered to seek shelter in one of the Hero Committee’s safe houses until further notice,” the director said.

“Heh?!”

“What?!”

“A safe house?!”

The director paused until the room when quiet once again, “We can’t allow you three to be captured by Angel and Goddess, we have no other option but to keep you three hidden until these villains are apprehended.”

So we’re retiring then, Wilbur thought to himself.

Phoenix shifted, “What is—”

“You three are going to have to coordinate a designated meet up spot, and one of you will have to drive the others to the safe house the committee has chosen for you,” the director continued, “Any questions?”

“I think Phoenix had been about to ask one before you interrupted her,” Arsenal said.

Wilbur nodded along, an attempt to force back a smirk at the director getting put in his place.

The director just sighed and gave Phoenix a look, “Well?”

“What’s the connection?” Phoenix asked.

“What?”

“What’s the connection?” Phoenix repeated, “Arsenal, Songbird and I are very different heroes. There has to be something in common though if Goddess and Angel are interested in capturing us.”

“That is classified information,” the director finally answered.

“Classified?!” Wilbur stood up, placed his hands on the desk and glared at the director, “You’re saying that you know exactly why we’re being targeted, and you won’t tell us?!”

“I’ve told you everything that you three need to know. Now I suggest that you do as you’re ordered,” the director glared up at Wilbur.

Once Wilbur returned to his seat, the director pulled out three files, “Here is everything you need to know. You may now organize between yourselves how to best get to the safe house. If you three aren’t at the safe house by tomorrow night, we will order heroes to escort you there personally.”

And with that, the three heroes were banished from the office.

All three of them perfectly aware of how fucked they were.

[papirouge]

I really really hate now this idea of marriage being a battle between husband and wife. That men only see divorce as the outcome of it because their low emotional intelligence leads their wives to be frustrated. It’s really hard to read how vicious men are too when they read “victories over women” when a woman is left with nothing, especially if they have children. Like the kids don’t matter. It’s all about “punishing the woman” for daring to leave an awful relationship. I guess I’m tired of reading about men complaining about divorce and how marriage is awful then in the same breath, complain that nobody will date them or love them. I usually hear this as a “western woman issue” as these same western scrotes will praise poor countries with struggling women to exploit so they can do the same back to these women - exploit these women then leave them with nothing

It's crazy you talk about "battle" in marriage bc YouTube has been pushing a video from a Christian man I've been following called "Husband & Wife: the Fight for control", and your ask just convinced me to eventually watch it, so I just did 👀

In this video he's basically explaining the reason Christian marriage struggle with power imbalance

Christian marriage fail in that men have no submission to the Holy spirit, no control of finances, no spiritual power, are too passive, rely on external help, and rather delegue the decisions to their wife

Consequentially, their wife have to take charge, and sometimes become more aggressive (because they can't respect a passive husband), and abuse their power

The man in the video said that at the beginning of his marriage, was relying big time to his family & Baptist community (he had his cell phone bills paid by his father in law 💀) When he decided to take his independence, all hell broke lose and the Baptist community turned on him ... and his father in law asked him for a refund of the bills he paid for all this time...💀💀

Conclusion ? God created men to take charge. But this responsability comes with duties (they have to be spiritually independent). Everytime a man expects submission from a woman, he should be as much financially independent.

⚠️ Beware of stingy traditional men, expecting you to stay at home and not working...... while never providing you the money you need/deserve⚠️

Only bums rave about marriage. Divorce is a failure. No emotionally balanced person should look up divorce. And it kills me to see the same men elevating traditional gender roles clap in support of meb divorcing their wife. Lately there's been a fake news featuring the Morocco football player Hakimi, who's accused of rape, stating he hid his fortune from his wife who filed for divorce so she couldn't get the half of it. Mind you: all the scrotes were cheering, calling him the goat, his move a "masterclass", etc. It really shows how fake the traditional posture of those scrote is (especially Muslim ones, having no problem with stoning women having sex outside marriage, but cheering -alleged- rapists💀). Raping women/cheating on your wife and then cutting her from the money she's owed (after she filed for divorce for being cheated on/potentially married with a rapist) is peak dusty degenerate move, and NOTHING traditional. And now that this "cut his ex wife from getting his money" news has been debunked , these idiots have been laying low 💀

You're absolutely right, it's all about "punishing the woman". They didn't care about her being cheated on, or even fearing for her life for being married with a potential rapist... They just happy to see a woman humiliated. Demonic.

And yeah, dunking on "Western women" is a well known incel/passport bro dog whistle. These idiots be truly complaining about Western women having the choice of not being sexually available to them for survival - like these good traditional women overseas 🤡 Incel are capitalizing off the fact there are places where the bar is lower. They would rather spent thousands to travel oversea and bag a bangmaid who wants the papers.....than save all this money and fix their attitude ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[charlenasaxen]

“Fleishman called it a good piece, Jen.’

‘Jesus, did I wait up so late just to hear that?”

“No; I’ve got much better legs”

“she brought some over to Gannett House tonight. Everybody said they were as good as your legs.”

“Damn,’ I replied, ‘why can’t I ever quit when I’m ahead?’

‘Because, Preppie,’ said my loving wife, ‘you never are.”

“in favor of a lucrative job that would get the dirty word ‘scrounge’ out of our goddamn vocabulary”

“Consider the case of yours truly: Law Review, All-Ivy, Harvard and you know what else. Hordes of people were fighting to get my name and numeral onto their stationery.”

“Mr. - (why risk a lawsuit?), kept telling me: ‘Barrett baby”

“Also, they really snowed me. I mean, old man Jonas came up to Boston, took us to dinner at Pier Four and sent Jenny flowers the next day.”

“I told her not so fast and she told me to go screw because I was probably singing the same tune. I don’t have to tell you she was right.”

“Jonas and Marsh paid Oliver Barrett IV $11,800, the absolute highest salary received by any member of our graduating class.

So you see I was only third academically.”

“It’s so nouveau riche,’ complained Jenny.

‘But we are nouveau riche”

“Jonas and Marsh was an easy ten-minute walk (or strut - I preferred the latter gait)”

“so were the fancy shops like Bonwit’s and so forth where I insisted that my wife, the bitch, immediately open accounts and start spending”

“newly returned to civilian life after having actually shot at some Vietcong (‘I’m not positive it was VC, actually. I heard noises, so I opened fire at the bushes’)”

“or because word of my Law School successes had gotten around (I didn’t brag about the salary, honest)”

“Just say I’m pregnant, Oliver.’

‘Are you? ‘I asked.

‘No, but if we stay home this weekend I might be.”

“I’ve really grown fond of the name Bozo,’ I said.

‘You mean seriously?”

“You would name our child Bozo?’ she asked again.

‘Yes. Really. Honestly, Jen, it’s the name of a super-jock.’

‘Bozo Barrett.”

“I meant it sincerely. This whole Bozo business had gotten to be a frequent daydream of mine as I strutted to work.”

“But lacking a truly devastating remark, she merely cut the cake and gave me a piece”

“There’s nothing in our genes that says two hundred and forty pounds, Oliver.’

‘We’ll feed him up, Jen.”

“Oh, yeah? Suppose he won’t eat, Oliver?’

‘He’ll eat, goddammit,’ I said, getting slightly pissed off already at the kid”

“soon be sitting at our table not cooperating with my plans for his athletic triumphs.”

“He’ll eat or I’ll break his face.”

Jenny looked me straight in the eye and smiled. ‘Not if he weighs two-forty, you won’t.’

‘Oh,’ I replied, momentarily set back. “But he won’t be two-forty right away!”

“You be nicer to my mother, Preppie!’ Christ, hopefully Jenny would keep Bozo from destroying me.”

“is a certain irony involved when guys who spend the first years of their sex lives preoccupied with not getting girls pregnant”

“He understands, doctor,’ said Jenny for me, knowing without my ever having mentioned it”

“Didn’t her voice even suggest that she hoped, if an insufficiency were to be discovered, it would be her own?”

“Oliver, the problem is more serious than that. Jenny is very sick.”

“I waited for the doctor to tell me that it was all a grim joke.“

“I insisted that he had made some mistake”

“Up to me! Christ, at this point I didn’t feel up to breathing.”

“what therapy they had for Jenny’s form of leukemia was merely palliative - it could relieve, it might retard, but it could not reverse”

“all I really could think of was how obscene the whole fucking thing was.

‘She’s only twenty-four!’ I told the doctor, shouting”

“I realized that I couldn’t just sit in this man’s office forever. So I asked him what to do.”

“He told me to act as normal as possible for as long as possible. I thanked him and left.

Normal! Normal!”

“I hoped there was a God I could say thank you to. Thank you for letting me wake up and see Jennifer.”

“Who?’ I asked.

‘Raymond Stratton ‘64,’ she said, ‘your best friend. Your roommate before me.”

“Don’t go canceling squash games, Preppie. I don’t want a flabby husband, dammit!”

“I yelled, trying to work up my normal mock anger”

“Jennifer!’ I bellowed, now honestly hurt”

“I told this God, whoever and wherever He might be, that I would gladly settle for the status quo. I don’t mind the agony, sir, I don’t mind knowing as long as Jenny doesn’t know.”

“Younger men? I was the youngest guy in the office. But I read his message: Oliver, despite your chronological age, you are already one of the elders of this office. One of us”

“I had resolved to tell nobody, to shoulder the entire burden myself. So I gave old man Jonas some bullshit”

“looking at the wonderful and silly extravagant things I would have bought Jennifer had I not wanted to keep up that fiction of … normal”

“I was the proud possessor of two tickets (first class, no less) to the City of Lovers”

“Guess what, Mrs. Barrett,’ I said”

“But quietly, with none of her usual mock-aggression. As she spoke it then, it was a kind of endearment: ‘Bullshit, Oliver.”

“Hey, can you define ‘bullshit’ more specifically, please?’

‘Hey, Ollie,’ she said softly”

“I don’t need Paris. I just want you -”

“And I want time,’ she continued, ‘which you can’t give me.’

Now I looked into her eyes. They were ineffably sad.”

“We stood there silently holding one another. Please, if one of us cries, let both of us cry. But preferably neither of us.”

“Oh,’ I said, knowing that she was trying to inject some levity into the grim proceedings.

‘Can he at least read and write?”

“That remains to be seen,’ smiled Mrs. Oliver Barrett”

“Now at least I wasn’t afraid to go home, I wasn’t scared about ‘acting normal.’ We were once again sharing everything, even if it was the awful knowledge that our days together were every one of them numbered.”

“things we had to discuss, things not usually broached by twenty-four-year-old couples.

‘I’m counting on you to be strong, you hockey jock”

“wondering if the always knowing Jennifer could tell that the great hockey jock was frightened”

“for Phil,’ she continued. ‘It’s gonna be hardest for him.”

“You’ll be merry, goddammit. I want you to be merry.”

“It was about a month later, right after dinner. She was still doing the cooking; she insisted”

“I was aware, in the swift flurry of motions that followed, that this was it. Jenny was going to walk out of our apartment and never come back.”

“Hey,’ I said, ‘anything special you want to take along?’

‘Uh uh.’ She nodded no, then added as an afterthought, ‘You.”

“Jenny just leaned against me, and I secretly wished there would be no taxi, that she would just keep leaning on me”

“Jenny was cuddled up against me. I was kissing her hair.”

“he wished us all sorts of good fortune and happiness. Jenny thanked him.

She seemed unsteady on her feet and I wanted to carry her in, but she insisted, ‘Not this threshold, Preppie.”

“(Who could have thought of such trivia? We were too busy buying dishes.)”

“I know I was lecturing him needlessly - ‘Jenny’s the boss. Whatever she says goes. Just you guys do everything you possibly can to make it not hurt.”

“I don’t care what it costs, doctor.’ I think I was raising my voice.”

“I commanded him, ‘just remember I want her to have the very best. Private room. Special nurses. Everything. Please. I’ve got the money.”

“certain that no automobile, foreign or domestic, even with some Graham Hill type at the wheel, can make it faster”

“My father did not say, ‘Show him in.’

Instead, his door opened and he appeared in person.”

“Come in, son,’ he said. I couldn’t read the tone.”

“I also sensed that he didn’t want to give me any heat. But he did want to … talk.”

“we couldn’t just sit there, both of us willing to talk and yet unable even to look the other straight in the face”

“yet if we had more to say to one another I could even hang around your office, Father, and you would cancel your luncheon plans … and so forth”

“summoned the courage to look at him and say:

‘Thank you, Father.”

“calmly closed the house in Cranston and came to live in our apartment.”

“Does he cherish the dream that Jenny will come home?

He does, doesn’t he?”

“he won’t admit this to me, but I know it’s on his mind.

Because it’s on mine too.”

“the days were simply divided between visiting hours and everything else”

“Eating without hunger, watching Phil clean the apartment (again!) and not sleeping even with the prescription Ackerman gave me”

“I can take this ad infinitum.

Because Jenny is Jenny.���

“But not too far,’ she said when I reached the door”

“She says to get your ass in there,’ he whispered hoarsely, like the whole inside of him was hollow”

“I always liked to sit very close and just look at her face, which, however pale, still had her eyes shining in it.

So I quickly sat very close.”

“It doesn’t hurt, Ollie, really,’ she said”

“Something stirred deep in my gut. Some shapeless thing that was going to fly into my throat and make me cry. But I wasn’t going to. I never have. I’m a tough bastard, see? I am not gonna cry.”

“Huh?’ It was more of a grunt than a word.

‘You don’t know about falling off cliffs, Preppie”

“You never fell off one in your goddamn life.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, recovering the power of speech. ‘When I met you.”

“I would look it up and tell her first thing tomorrow.”

“sorry for having interrupted her”

“Are you listening, Ollie?’

I had turned my face away.

‘Yeah, I’m listening, Jenny.”

“Oliver, you’ve got to stop being sick!’

‘Me?’

‘That guilty look on your face, Oliver, it’s sick.’

Honestly, I tried to change my expression, but my facial muscles were frozen.”

“I wanted to keep looking at her because I wanted to never take my eyes from her, but still I had to lower my eyes”

“I was afraid to even speak the word ‘okay.’ I just looked mutely at Jenny.”

“I could tell when Jenny really meant something. So I bought permission to stay by telling a lie: ‘I believe you”

“From somewhere inside me came this devastating assault to make me cry. But I withstood. I would not cry.”

“happy to do her any favor whatsoever.

‘Would you please hold me very tight?”

“I got onto the bed with her and put my arms around her.

‘Thanks, Ollie.’

Those were her last words.”

“I wish I hadn’t promised Jenny to be strong for you.’

And, to honor his pledge, he patted my hand very gently.”

“Oliver.’

I stopped.

It was my father.”

“I couldn’t face him. I went straight for the revolving door. But in an instant he was out there standing next to me.

‘Oliver,’ he said, ‘you should have told me.”

“My father continued to address me, and I continued to stand still and let the cold wind slap my face”

“Oliver,’ said my father urgently, ‘I want to help.”

“Jenny’s dead,’ I told him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said in a stunned whisper.”

“I repeated what I had long ago learned from the beautiful girl now dead.

‘Love means not ever having to say you’re sorry.’

And then I did what I had never done in his presence, much less in his arms. I cried.”

[nicholsroy]

December (+ early January) updates & January goals

Blog | Monthly updates

Hello and happy belated New Year! I am back with a (very) quick (and very belated) updates post for this month, as I’m simply unwilling to throw this monthly tradition by the wayside in January. I don’t know, just seems like a shitty way to start off a new year.

December (+ early January) updates

Query letter: My query letter for LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE is technically done (finally), but I’m sitting with it for a while because I’m still not fully satisfied with parts of it. I’m considering getting a paid query critique from someone in the genre once it’s fully polished, if funds allow. At this rate, that will most likely happen either late this month or early next.

Edits: Edits are progressing at approximately the speed of molasses in winter right now (mostly because I’ve been doing basically nothing but reading over the past couple weeks), but I made some decent headway in December. According to my tracking document, the restructured Act I is currently about 65% complete. Act II is still less than 10% complete, as I originally intended to not touch Act II at all until Act I was complete, but I am blocked on areas of Act I that require supplementary research (which, yes, is because I’m procrastinating on said research), so I have tinkered with Act II in the meantime in order to continue progress. Many of the Act II scenes are in good shape and only need to be line edited and structured differently into chapters as needed.

A secret third thing: I… may or may not be working on a (short) new project for which inspiration struck about a week ago. I’m about 70% done with the draft, which I’ll most likely set aside for at least a few weeks prior to polishing and sending it out on submission. It is a short piece which will probably comprise around 2,000 words in total.

January goals

Keeping it simple for this month, especially seeing as it’s already nearly halfway over (I say “already” as though I haven’t been complaining all month about how slowly the time is passing):

Polish my query letter.

Get up to at least 75% progress on LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE edits.

Complete supplementary research needed for some of the Timeline B (present-day) scenes in Act I (because I have really been dragging my ass on this for months now…)  

General life news (not writing-related)

Finished my 2023 reading challenge – on New Year’s Eve, no less – with 12 out of 12 books read! I’m working on a retrospective post of my thoughts on all these books (with ratings out of five), which I intended to post much sooner and is achieving a length much greater than intended (which is, truly, very me-coded).

I’m setting my 2024 reading challenge to 20 books, one of which I’ve read since the beginning of January. I am currently on my second, Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir. In fact, I’ve accidentally become such a born-again bookworm that my time spent on social media, including Tumblr, has become minimal as of late. Not a bad thing by any means, but I do certainly miss my friends and fellow writers on here!

Personal goals for 2024 include, among a few other things, saving money (and, in particular, spending less of it on takeout), progressing in my career, and going on a couple of bucket list trips: namely, travelling across western and central Canada on The Canadian, and going pod camping.

That’s all for now. I hope your new year is treating you with heaping quantities of motivation and possibility – and if it’s not, I hope you’re finding ways to hang in there nonetheless.       

[milfgyuu]

What’s My Age Again? Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 8.9k, F2L, Fluff, Crack, Humor, Smut 18+ Summary: Wen Junhui is sort of a dumbass but he’s your dumbass and you’ve come to realize that you like him just the way he is.

A/N: this was 100% inspired by me obliterating my vocal chords in the car to “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink182 - also, apologies in advance my friends....Jun was perfect for this story and i lowkey have temporary romantic feelings for him. shhhh. temporary.

Warnings: [Sexually Explicit Content 18+, MINORS DNI] the mc/reader is bisexual! language, adult themes throughout, protected sex (mxf), oral (f/m), face sitting (f), sixty-nine (spongebob voice), lots of gentle bullying between friends, threatening someone with peanuts. 

The light tapping of your finger nails almost matches time perfectly with the clock on the wall.

You’re on your regular night shift which could be worse, but as it stands, it’s just a whole lot of standing around and doing nothing. Yo-Nuts - as ridiculously stupid as the name sounded, was actually pretty popular…during daylight hours. 

A combination frozen yogurt and donut joint that stood alone on a quiet corner didn’t really attract much attention at night but the owner was one of those generational money kids who built the place on a whim after a night of the munchies for two very specific things that weren’t typically available at night.

Frozen yogurt and donuts. Yo-Nuts. Points for originality.

You also can’t complain because you’re working with your designated himbo, per usual. Jun is one of those really tall, really good looking nice boys who are especially…dumb but in a likeable sort of way. He’s goofy and a little immature but you enjoy his company. The long quiet nights are filled with laughter, conversation, and a lot of shit you probably shouldn’t be doing while getting paid - most of which Jun instigates.

“Hey,” you hear from somewhere behind you, “Psssssssst!”

You put your phone down and look over your shoulder to see Jun across the store holding a glazed donut up to his mouth, flicking his tongue through the middle suggestively, like an idiot.

You snort but pretend to be unimpressed and he, very briefly considers putting the donut back before tossing it in the trash. The boss let’s them eat whatever they want anyway so it’s not like anyone is truly caring for the inventory numbers. He comes up to the counter where you’re sort of monitoring the floor and leans down to whisper, “When do you think that guy will leave?”

“He’s gonna ask for more gummy bears, bet.”

Jun holds out his hand immediately. “If he leaves without asking, you have to lick my armpit.”

You give a look of thinly veiled disgust, “You’re so weird,” and then slap your hand into his, “If he does, I’m giving you a wedgie.”

Jun’s nose crinkles as he thinks about the last time he lost a bet with those odds. His ass crack was scarred for life, but Jun also had a plan this time around, “Deal.”

His efforts were amusing to say the least.

It was mostly just him sitting behind the counter trying to make direct eye contact with this poor man sitting alone in the shop, trying to enjoy his fro-yo in peace. Every time he looked up, Jun was somehow in his line of vision. Cleaning a table, examining a sprinkle, spritzing a window, hovering around floor like an absolute creeper. He got distracted though.

He’d found a dollar bill on the floor under a table and the guy got up and beelined it toward the counter. You painted on the friendliest smile when he asked for extra gummy bears and wished him well on his way out the door. For some reason he thought his treat was better tasting at home. Probably because he wasn’t being stalked while he ate it.

Jun caught the interaction just as the customer was leaving and he sulked across the entire empty shop, heavy feet stomping each step of the way. “How come you always win?”

Laughing, you circle the counter and Jun takes a careful step backwards. “Have mercy on my cheeks,” he begs, “I wouldn’t actually make you lick my pit had I won!”

“Yes, you would have,” you step closer and jump at him, making him squeal a bit, “Don’t drag out the torture. Bring that ass here boy.”

“What if I'm not wearing underwear?” He giggles, backing into a table and jumping out of the way, “Didja ever think about that?”

You back off and smirk, walking back toward the counter, “It’s fine…I don’t mind waiting and catching you off guard. Let you slip into a false sense of security before I destroy your ass.”

His face drops and he automatically clenches out of fear. “Ohhh,” he blows out with narrowed eyes, “You’re pure evil.”

You smile angelically and then tilt your neck sharply like a broken doll, and Jun shudders, very slowly and wearily joining you back behind the counter you’ve perched on. He offers a very tiny smile like a white flag and you grin, keeping him on his toes.

“Soooooooo,” he drawls out, “Pretty sure Rin is never calling me back…”

Rin is the super hot girl Jun’s been talking to lately and she is so far out of his league it’s insane. She drives a brand new Audi and owns her own clothing line but apparently she likes funny guys and there is anyone doofier than Wen Junhui. Again, dumb but objectively attractive. The thing is, she is just way too mature for him. She’s running a high-end business and he works in a fro-yo shop and thinks butt jokes are still funny.

It’s too bad Rin’s not into girls.

You sigh, unsurprised. “What did you do?”

Jun’s face falls and he purses his lips, “Why do you always assume I did something?”

You merely blink back and him and he deflates. “I think she wanted to have sex with me and I screwed things up.”

You automatically laugh and he whines at your reaction, crying about you never taking him seriously. You choke down the laughter but can’t dim the smirk upon your lips, “I’m intrigued, please,” you gesture to the empty space between you, “Paint me a picture.”

Jun leans against the opposite counter, sighing as he recounts the details. “I took her out last Friday and we had dinner and then she said she wanted to come hang out at my place so we went home and we were watching a new movie,” he gets distracted and then really excited, “You know that Blissful Revenge movie I wanted to see, right?”

You nod amusedly, of course. He’s talked about it for weeks.

“So, we were watching it and she kept getting closer which is like cool, I like to snuggle, and then she started kissing my neck and you know how ticklish I am so I kept laughing and she stopped. Then she climbed on my lap and blocked the whole tv and we started making out but I think she saw that I kept trying to look around her to watch the movie and she got pissed and left,” he grimaces awkwardly, “I asked if I could walk her to her car and she said no. So, I stayed inside and watched the rest of the movie by myself.”

Riveting. “Was the movie good?”

His face lights up, “Dude, yes it was amazing! The graphics were so much better than the last movie and it was like a hundred times more gory,” he spreads he hands out and smiles serenely, “Blood and guts, everywhere.”

“Hey,” you look at him curiously, waving your hand, “Come here for a sec…”

Jun looks worried and touches his face then his hair and moves slowly towards you, ‘What-”

“Hold still,” You caution him and as soon as he’s close enough, you reach around and smack him in the back of the head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You ask incredulously, “You have hot and horny girl in your lap and you’re too busy watching tv?! You’ve fumbled the bag, severely. Idiot.”

Jun winces and rubs his head, mussing his hair. “I just don’t get why we couldn’t do it after the movie was over…”

You roll your eyes skyward, begging aloud for Rin to just give you one chance. One chance is all you need to treat her right unlike this towering doofus in front of you.

“Jun,” you say with an incredible amount of patience, “Are you a virgin?”

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, “No.”

No elaboration, interesting.

“Do you like having sex with hot girls?”

He snorts, “Uh, obviously? Don’t you?”

You jut out your chin sarcastically, “Obviously,” you roll your eyes, “And I’m way better at it than you apparently. Do you, like, not know how to tell if a girl is horny? Or into you, in general?”

Jun says nothing but he opens and closes his mouth a few times, scoffing and walking in circles with his hands on his hips, occasionally bringing one up in the air like he’s about to make a point and then lowering it again without a word.

“Dude, you don’t know how to read women at all, do you?”

He finally sighs and dejectedly slumps against the counter next to you. “Women are so beautiful and so mysterious,” he groans, “They don’t talk with their words. How am I supposed to guess what they want?”

Another incredulous look crosses your face. “Her kissing your neck, climbing into your lap, and initiating a make-out session was not clear enough body language for you?”

“We were watching a movie!” he shouts word for word.

“No,” you loudly correct him, “You were watching a movie. She was trying to fuck you! If there is one thing women hate most, it’s being ignored. Especially when they’re trying to initiate intimacy. If she walked out, I can almost guarantee this has happened before with you.”

He seems contemplative but then a couple walk in and you paste on your customer service face and greet them, taking their order. You and Jun work in relative silence, passing things back and forth to each other then to the customers and they leave, emptying out the place once again.

“So, that one time I asked her to watch me play video games and she kept trying to take off my pants…”

He ducks as you throw a handful of m&ms at his head and shouts, “WHY?”

You glare at him and point at the floor, whispering threateningly, “Pick those up,” before he’s running for a broom and dust pan.

He sulks around the shop while you hide in the office, choosing to kick your feet up on the desk and watch an episode on Netflix. Jun is made to watch the floor as punishment for being a dumbass. He has to reflect on the consequences of his actions.

It’s not long before he’s poking his head into the office, a pout plastered on his useless lips. “Whadda you want, virgin?” you ask without looking up.

His forces a teeny, feeble voice and bows his head, “Teach me your ways, sensei.”

You pause your show and look up with a flat face. “I’m not taking on new students.”

He drops to his knees and you both grimace at the crunchy sound they make. “I am begging you,” he shakes his hands, pleading, “I will do the floors and bathrooms myself for a month!”

You narrow you eyes and he folds, “FOR ETERNITY!”

Sighing long and hard you set your phone down and adjust the computer monitor so you can see the front doors should someone come in. “Listen and listen well, young grasshopper. Today is lesson one in ‘How not to be a clueless, immature loser’, ok?”

“You’re a goddess,” he sags in relief, snickering when you sharply tell him to shut up.

And this is how you spend your shifts for the next few weeks, with Jun following you around asking questions and giving hypothetical scenarios. He attempted to rekindle things with Rin, but she’d long since moved on to a much older man with a private yacht and fat 401k. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance. 

He hadn’t really made an effort to see anyone else either, which you pointed out one day.

“You know,” you twirl a strawberry glazed donut around your finger before taking another bite, “You ought to be putting my incredibly wise and carefully taught methods into practice. What’s the point if you stop talking to girls all together?”

Jun scoffs and spreads his arms, balancing half his weight on the broomstick in his hand. “I have been trying,” he complains, “I hooked up with this girl I met at the club and when I texted her the next day, like you said, she ghosted me.”

You hold your eyes shut for a very long time and poke your tongue in your cheek. “Ok,” you blink, “Walk me through it.”

“We danced-”

“Skip ahead, Jun,” you huff in frustration, “Your place or hers?”

“Mine.”

“I offered her a drink and asked if she wanted to play video games.”

“Christ…okay. Then what?”

“We played Mario Kart and she sucked,” Jun answers with a frown before perking up like he’s about to deliver the good news, “Then she asked if she could blow me and I said yes!”

“Thrilling,” you sip from your near empty drink and gesture for him to continue, “And did you pay attention to her?”

His smile falters and he chuckles awkwardly, “She wasn’t very good at it and seemed kinda irritated that I didn’t have a better reaction but like, isn’t it rude to fake it?”

“Did you attempt to help her in anyway? Remember the whole communication thing?”

“I was going to but then she gave up and it was kind of awkward so I suggested we go to my room to bang.”

“Verbatim?” you nearly choke on your donut, “You- nevermind,” you hold your hand up, “How was the sex?”

Jun shrugs, “Fine?”

“Fine?” you repeat, “What does ‘fine’ mean?”

He scrunches up his face. “She was so boring. Dead silent, missionary, lights off.”

You frown in thought, “That is boring,” you shake you empty cup and Jun takes it from you to refill it, “This one sounds like it’s not one-hundred percent your fault.”

“I didn’t even finish,” he laughs, handing the cup back to you, “I asked if she wanted to stay and chill but she said she didn’t think we really had anything in common so she just kinda left.”

“Why did you ask her to stay if you guys didn’t hit it off?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, “It felt yucky asking her to leave after we hooked up.”

“Oh, Jun,” you pout your lip out sincerely, “You’re many things, most of them being dumb, but you really are a sweetheart. I’m beginning to think half your problem is that you’re going for the wrong type.”

He accidentally bumps the register and the cash drawer comes flying out, the corner of it nailing him in the hip. He bows over and you scramble off the counter. “Shit, are you okay? I told Jim to fix the fucking drawer!”

You tug his shirt up and sure enough there is a small cut, purple and angry. “Ouch,” he says dumbly but you’re already dragging him to the back office by the arm, grumbling about giving your manager an earful when you spoke to him next. Jun patiently waits as you slam drawers and cabinets until you find a first aid kit and start grabbing things out of it.

“What do you mean I’m going for the wrong type?” he asks, wincing when you dab his cut with alcohol as gently as you can.

“Well, I don’t think you’re shallow or anything but you like pretty girls and most of time, the ones you pick, have nothing in common with you, interests or personality wise.”

“Soooo I have to find a girl who likes all the things I like?”

You snort. That’s a unicorn of a woman. “No, just find a girl who likes you for you, stupid. Someone who cares enough about you to be interested in your hobbies just because they make you happy and understands the way your tiny brain works.”

Jun hums in thought as you smooth a Band-Aid over his cut with your thumb softly. He glances down at the crown of your head and his eyes widen in shock and sudden realization .

“Like you…”

You pick your head up. “What?”

“You like me for me-”

You stand up and put your hands out about to cut him off but he advances on you, thoughts spewing from his lips in a mad dash to spell out the connection.

“You like me even though you think I'm dumb and immature. You always laugh at my jokes and listen to me talk about all the stuff I like and we play games together and you like the same kind of movies! Plus, you’re the only girl who didn’t think my collectables were weird! We have so much in common!”

“Yeah!” You shout back in a panic, “We both like girls!”

“I know! We’re perfect for each other! Wait- I thought you were bi…”

What the fuck is happening?

“I am but I haven’t been with a guy in…years,” you let out a breath as Jun takes a step back, “I’ve had like a handful of experiences with men and they’ve all been super disappointing. I haven’t even been interested in a guy because wait-”

You point your finger at him accusingly, “Are you my designated golden retriever boy?!”

Jun points to himself questioningly, “Is that a thing? I’m more of a cat gu-”

“No, no,” you push past him and start your closing duties, rushing to be finished and get out of the shop, “We’re not even entertaining this train of thought. Go do the floors.”

He purses his lips and swallows at your frantic movements deciding it’s probably in his best interest to just do as he’s told…and quickly.

He rushes around speed cleaning the floors and taking the trash out while you shut everything else down, which is relatively easy. You do get stuck counting the cash deposit four times though. Too easily distracted by your errant and wholly ridiculous thoughts. Twenty minutes later, you're locking the doors while Jun rocks on his heels, hands dug in his pockets.

“I’m sorry for making things weird,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfy.”

You drop your head, still facing the door before forcing yourself to turn and look at him, “I’m not upset with you, noodle head.”

“Promise?”

He sticks out a pinky and wiggles it.

You snort and then link your own. “Promise.”

Jun grins and bounces on his feet, “Cool. Wanna come over and watch scary movies?”

It’s one o’clock in the morning but you’re not tired and Jun is actually your favorite movie buddy because you both can talk through it without missing anything and critique the plot the whole time. Plus, he has comfy clothes and good snacks.

“I get your Karasuno hoodie.”

“Deal.”

“Dude,” you snort, biting off another piece of your sour gummy worm and twirling it around, “Can you believe they cut her out of the last film?”

Jun tosses his head back, “Right?! She was one of the best characters and her arc was trash. It was such a waste.”

He attempts to reach for the bag but keeps missing so you grab a hand full and shove it in his mouth, both your eyes still glued to the screen. It’s pitch black in the room aside from the tv and you’re both huddled up on Jun’s couch bundled in his hoodies, pajama pants, and blankets. Plus the Snorlax plushie you stole off his bed. It’s so stupid soft and squishy.

The table is littered with snacks, candy, empty noodle cups, and your bra which you carelessly ditched early on. Comfort was key on movie nights and Jun never once made it a big deal.

When the credits finally roll Jun claps like a buffoon and laughing, you stretch our your limbs, your tendency to sit like a pretzel making your joints stiff. He turns and holds up the remote. “One more?” he asks hopefully.

You hum, indecision splitting your mind. You do want to watch another but you know you’ll be too tired to drive home afterward. It would have to wait for another night and you explain as much. Jun pouts for half a second, but he never makes you feel bad when you decide to go. He grabs the things from the table and carries them all back to the kitchen while you stuff your bra and uniform into your bag. You’d bring his clothes back another time.

When Jun returns, he meets you at the door and prepares to walk down to the parking lot with you, an oddly endearing habit of his you’ve always liked. You go to grab the door handle but something makes you turn around and look at him.

He smiles back at you even though he’s not sure why you’re looking at him in the first place and a sudden curiosity overcomes you.

“Can I try something?”

“Uh,” he tilts his head in confusion, “Yeah?”

You slip your hand up to the back of his head and pull him in, pressing your lips against his...just trying it out. Jun’s hands come up in surprise but he just holds them over your hips, not quite touching you. When you pull back you just look at him, your eyes flitting from his deep brown eyes to the little mole near his lip.

“Was that weird for you?”

“No,” he shakes his head slowly.

“Ok…coo-”

Jun presses you up against the door, kissing you harder while his hands slip beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, stroking your bare skin. Your bag falls to the floor and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, sighing into his mouth just as his tongue prods along your bottom lip. He folds over you, caging you in and gripping your hips, growing more enthused with each swipe of your talented tongue against his own.

“Bedroom?” you ask between kisses and he doesn’t even answer. He simply picks you up like a cardboard standee and carries you the short distance to his room, not bothering to close the door. Instead of setting you down, like a normal person, he shifts your weight to one arm while clearing space on his bed with the other before dropping you onto the mattress with a little bounce.

“I thought you didn’t like boys,” he smirks, tearing his hoodie off and throwing it to the floor while you do the same and Jun doesn’t even pretend to look anywhere other than your bare chest.

“I don’t,” you maneuver out of your pants just barely fast enough before Jun is on the bed, hovering over you with a grin.

“Just to be clear,” he wiggles his pelvis against yours, “I have a dick.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” You snort, knocking him off of you just so you can swing a leg over his hips and smirk down at him, “Big dick and no brain cells.”

You slip your fingers beneath his waistband and run them back and forth, tickling his skin and making him giggle. Your nose twitches, smiling hard at his stupidly endearing reactions. You were so hard pressed to just admit that all the immature, boyish characteristics that made Jun who he was were some of your favorite things about him. 

This...whatever it was...is physically driven but the rest would certainly cloud the forefront of your mind come tomorrow morning.

Jun startles you out of thought suddenly, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you down until your chests are pressed together, faces mere inches apart. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you peer back curiously. “I wanna kiss you again,” he whispers.

The admittance is so soft and genuine you can’t help but ask why.

He blushes and teases his tongue at the corner of his mouth, “It’s exciting,” he breathes, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting, “Honestly, I’ve thought about kissing you before but I was afraid you’d punch me or something.”

“Wait,” you push yourself up onto your elbows, “You’ve wanted to kiss me? When?”

He hums in thought for a minute. “Uh, anytime you’ve ever laughed at my dumb jokes, rolled your eyes at me, or called me an idiot.”

“I do those things all the time.”

“Yep.”

“So…you…?”

He nods resolutely, “Yep.”

Jun groans at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest, your hands in his hair, your tongue dipping past his lips and he wraps his arms around you, blunt nails scratching at your sides. He sucks down air when you pull back, eyes unfocused from your sudden, overwhelming kiss and you flick him in the forehead, sighing down at him. “How dare you make me feel feelings for a man,” you chuckle, kissing the same spot, “You big dummy.”

He laughs in response and you release a strangled shout, holding on for dear life as he flips you over with a devilish grin and wastes not a second before he’s kissing and giggling his way down the length of your body. He reaches the front of your panties and looks up, tilting his head.

“I will crush your head between my thighs right this second, Junhui. Try me.”

“I’m just taking a moment to appreciate,” he marvels, running one finger down the imprint of your folds through the soft material, “Also, don’t threaten me with a good time. I love your thighs and would gladly beg for death right this second if I wasn’t about to suffocate myself in your pussy.”

Not a single woman you’d ever been with paused to say such ridiculous shit nor has any other man bothered to sound so enthused about giving head and it just another box only Jun could check for you apparently. You sigh as he crudely pushes your panties to the side but not a moment later he’s looking at you again, eager hands stretching the material unforgivingly.

“Sit on my face.”

Your neck cracks as you look down at him incredulously, “Sorry, what?”

He grins curiously, “Sit on my face, please.”

“I-” he begins putting everything in motion, tearing off your panties, “I wasn’t looking for the magic word! You…Wait-” he keeps you moving, manhandling you into a sitting position despite your babbling, “You told me you’ve never done this-”

“I haven’t,” he confirms, shimmying further down the bed to work you up and over his shoulders.

“J-Jun!” you shriek as he lifts his head and kisses your bare pussy, “I’ve only done this once with an ex-boyfriend and it did not go well!” your voice catches when he kisses you again, humming happily between your trembling thighs, “Thick girls are not made for face-sitting!”

At that, Jun stops what he’s doing and glares up at you with contempt for whichever sad bastard put that idea in your head. “And I’m the stupid one?” he mumbles under his breath before softening his face, “Do you trust me?”

Your nails dig into his hands at your hips. “With most things, no.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up,” and then he’s squeezing the junction between your hips and thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth - his hot lips kissing a sucking every ounce of hesitance away until your melting against him, struggling to hold your own weight up.

“Oh, fuck…you,” you groan when he flattens his tongue against you, eyes soft and hazy as he savors and worships his mouthful.

How Jun has ever managed to turn a girl off with this sort of talent is shocking but perhaps that’s why they stuck around as long as they did. They were more interested in his bedroom ability then any of the silly things that came out of his mouth. It makes you sort of sad and then Jun’s rolling his tongue against your clit and dragging you back and forth over his face like a deviant and you can’t seem to focus on how much of an L these girls took anymore.

The sensation has you squeezing your thighs unintentionally, squishing Jun’s cheeks between them and he groans, hands kneading your soft legs and hips. “How…are…you even…still b-breathing?”

Making him laugh is a mistake, kind of, because the vibration it causes sends a tingle up your spine and a hearty moan spills from your lips and that’s just when you give up. You give up trying to carefully hover over him. You give up clinging to some semblance of dignity. You give up the charade of acting like you don’t want to ride his face because you do and all the little poisonous bubbles of self consciousness floating around in your head begin to pop and disappear, and when you slip your fingers into his hair, he moans against you.

Jun gives immaculate head. You’re more than qualified to judge that.

Speaking of…

“Jun,” you attempt to get him to open his eyes but he’s too engrossed in making out with your pussy like it’s prom night until you pull his hair a little harder than intended and he blinks up at you. It’s almost embarrassing how messy and wet his face is when you pull off of him and he starts to complain but you carefully spin around, placing your knees on either side of his head so you can lay your body along the length of his and push down his boxers.

“Sixty-Nine,” Jun chuckles, grabbing a pillow to prop his head closer and then he’s reaching for your hips again, “Cool.”

You blink eight more times than necessary and swallow the laugh building in your chest to instead take him in your hand. It almost feels foreign, having been so long since you’ve actually let anyone with a cock near you but Jun’s is not half bad. More than decent length, a little bit of girth, hint of a curve - if anything your just intrigued by the fact that you had actually wanted to see it, touch it, put it in your mouth and see what sort of reaction Jun had when you teased it.

His tongue playfully pokes at your clit the same time you lean down and circle yours around the tip of his cock and he sighs against you, warm breath making you roll your hips back against him in time with the way you take him in your mouth, experimenting to figure out what makes him happiest. Judging by the hands on your ass that squeeze and flex when you take him as far as you can and come back up to suckle on the head, that’s probably his favorite.

It gets harder and harder to maintain a pace the more enthused Jun becomes, especially when he pushes two long fingers into your cunt, lapping at your throbbing clit over and over. No doubt, on the list of reasons why Jun’s relationships never worked out - giving out orgasms was not in the top ten because when your legs begin shaking around him and his cock pops out from between your lips on a long moan he flattens his tongue and drags it back and forth messily until you’re cumming hard and collapsing on top of him, head rested against his thigh.

“I can’t see,” you murmur as Jun gently rolls you over, giggling at the empty, fucked out expression on your face, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Mmm,” He hums with a goofy flat smile, “A bit dramatic but I’m flattered…so, uh, do you wanna just like wait here while I,” he points toward the bathroom and you furrow your brows, “And then we can watch youtube or something?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and give him a funny look, “Are you going to jack off in the bathroom? Alone?”

Jun opens and then closes his mouth and then opens it again, ”Well…I, yeah I’m mean unless you wanted to like…should I not?”

“You’re the eighth wonder of the world,” you shake your head, chuckling in disbelief, “Do you not want to have sex with me?”

Jun’s eyes widen, “What kind of question is that?”

“So, you’re not having sex with me right now because…..?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he answers right away and you have the sudden urge to both smack him upside the head and kiss the living daylights out of him.

The latter wins out and you press your lips to his sweetly, your hand gently cradling the side of his head and you pull back to meet his eyes. “It seems as though we still have a few lessons to go on ‘how to read women’. Letting a girl ride your face for twenty minutes while she sucks your dick is pretty indicative that she’s into you and also in the mood to have sex. If you still can’t tell…it’s okay to ask.”

“Should we start over?” He asks already reaching for your body and you laugh swatting at his chest, “I’m kidding!” he grins and then his voice is so quiet and sincere, “Are you really sure? We don’t have to-”

“Jun,” you stop him with another kiss, “I’m sure. Do you have condoms?”

He scoffs, “Of course I do,” and then he’s getting up out of bed and opening the first drawer of his dresser, pulling something from the back corner.

“....Is that a poke ball? You keep your condoms…in a poke ball?!”

The red, white, and black ball is all too familiar and Jun turns toward you, splitting the ball open and flashing a gold wrapper in your direction. “Uh, yeah,” he whispers, “Gotta catch em all.”

Laughter spills from your lips freely and Jun grins so hard his cheeks hurt because you actually appreciate his juvenile sense of humor unlike every other girl he’s ever dated. Maybe you were right and he’s been going after the wrong type all along and maybe he’ll be lucky enough to be given a chance to prove how perfectly suited the two of you were for each other.

He realizes it’s something he really wants to put effort into and something clicks in his brain. A memory of the two of you at Yo-Nuts, talking while you tossed gummy bears at Jun one at a time for him to catch like a seal, most of which bounced off his face. You had told him that if he really wanted something, if he truly desired to pursue a real relationship, then he had to put forth the effort. 

Pay attention to her, really listen when she speaks, let her know you’re there for her, lift her up, make her laugh, make her feel appreciated and understood.

It had sometimes felt like a chore and one mostly unreciprocated.

Except when it came to you. It was so easy and he realized that not only did he freely do these things for you without even knowing but you did the same for him. The teasing and name-calling was all surface level and never intended to be hurtful but beneath all that, Jun knew how much you cared about him. He just never considered there could be a different side to this relationship and now that he sees the potential…

“Jun,” your voice suddenly pierces through his hurricane of thoughts and feelings and he blinks rapidly as you look up at him in concern, “I lost you for like a solid two minutes. Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and laughs it off, “I’m good, sorry. I was just- nevermind…conversation for a different day I think. Did my zombie trance kill the mood?”

Your tongue pokes between your lips in amusement and you slowly shake your head, “No, but it wouldn’t hurt if you hurried the fuck up and played with my tits while you’re at it.”

If his dick wasn’t rock solid already, it is impossibly so right now.

He fumbles with the wrapper, pulling out the condom and rolling it over himself with record speed and then he’s pressed against you, pushing your thigh up, fingers imprinting your skin. The weight of his cock between your folds makes you swallow hard and he uses his free hand to squeeze and knead your breasts, rolling his thumb over your nipples as he coats himself in your wetness, tip poking at your hole.

You accidentally hold your breath when he breaches you slowly, trying to ease his way between your tight walls without hurting you or going cross-eyed at the pressure himself. “Are you okay?” he asks about half-way in, pausing to let you take a deep breath, “Not that I think I have like the most massive dick on the planet bu-”

“It’s f-fine, I know what you mean,” you let out a strained huff of amusement, “It’s still a big dick and the only one that isn’t made of silicone or attached to a body in some fashion that I’ve had in a long time. I’m appreciative but I’m okay - this is okay, Jun.”

The reassurance comforts him and he carefully pushes forward until he’s bottomed out but he doesn’t sit still, instead he starts a slow, shallow sort of rhythm, watching your face with each stroke, still massaging your breasts in one large hard while the other remains firmly attached to your plush thigh. He watches, waiting for that little bit of tension to melt from your features and when it does, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, drawing his hips back further and driving them home deeper.

Jun can’t get enough between the soft faces and pretty sounds you make, and the way your tender flesh feels beneath his fingers, taking handfuls and drowning in just how much he wants to touch you and please you. Never has he been so utterly enthralled in a partner and maybe that’s because there is so much more than sex involved in your relationship. 

He knows he’s slipping right back into dangerous territory but he can’t help it.

Especially not when you reach down to play with your own clit, big doe eyes trained on his, long delicate lashes drawing his attention to your flushed face.

Jun is pretty sure he has never been so excited to cum in his life though he wouldn’t dare voice that, lest you mock him for eternity. He doesn’t really mind though. He sometimes thinks he has some masochistic kink considering the amount of times he’s popped a boner over your smart mouthed, half-hearted insults.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he breathes out accidentally, brain too full of lust and hot air to filter what comes out of his mouth.

“I think you’re thinking with your dick,” you all but moan back to him, cutting your breath short when he pushes both of your legs forward, pressing down on your thighs to angle your hips up.

  Jun smirks which is a stupidly hot look on him. “Ah, but my dick and my heart are very closely connected.”

“Guess that makes sense since you have no brain.”

“Shut up.”

You do the opposite, however, no real words come out. Only incoherent strings of encouragement or flat out begging that you will refuse to acknowledge and deny until the end of days pours from your open lips with a clear end in sight. All it takes is a few more rough strokes and he’s pushing so deeply inside that your body gives up and orgasms so abruptly that Jun jerks forward, emptying himself into the condom almost violently as he shakes and groans.

There are several long extended moments of silence as you both attempt to catch your breath and figure out what to say to one another. He attempted to pull out at one point but even that brief bit of movement sent a shockwave through your body and you tugged him down to lay on top of you, forbidding him to move with a barrage of intricate threats.

The problem is that five minutes later, Jun is now too comfortable and half asleep and you’re smooshed under his long, lanky frame.

“Jun,” you mumble against his throat, making him wiggle, “Jun, you need to move.”

He giggles but it’s more so a physical reaction than anything else because his neck is so ticklish and he whispers back, “Noooo~ stay…”

“I’m not leaving dummy,” you roll him onto his back, shuddering at the sudden empty feeling, “We both need to get cleaned up.”

He hums, eyes still firmly shut and you roll your own toward the ceiling. “If you sleep with a condom on your dick will lose circulation and fall off in the middle of the night.”

He springs out of bed so quickly he nearly knocks you over but he grabs the blankets and folds them over you so you don’t fall off the edge as he trips and nearly eats the ground. Finally steadied, he grins down at you and offers a hand up, “I would feel like a loser if it was anyone other than you who witnessed that.”

“You are a loser,” you smirk, “Kind of a hot loser though.”

Jun tilts his chin up confidently, “She loves me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“She does,” he sings, pulling you toward his bathroom, “Do you wanna have a sleepover?”

“No.”

“Ok, perfect! I like to cuddle!”

And then fifteen minutes later you’re both passed out in Jun’s bed - snoring and all. You’re not the prettiest sleeper and neither is he and you’re definitely both waking up a little sweaty because Jun sleeps like an octopus, clinging to you with long limbs no matter how many times you accidentally elbow him in the gut. It’s comfortable though, too comfortable, and that’s something you’ll be thinking of for the days and weeks to come.

“Smash or Pass,” Jun tosses his wet rag in the sink, just having finished cleaning the toppings counter during your usual night shift a few weeks later, “Edward or Jacob?”

You scoff, keeping your voice down considering there were actually a few customers that had rolled in. “Pass on both,” you wipe around the register, throwing your rag in the sink next to his, “The correct answer is Jasper and all other options…other than Alice…are invalid.”

Jun nods slowly, “Smashhhhh...you’re right,” agreeing with your answer and then he shrugs, “Jacob was hotter than Edward - kinda creepy though like no means no….and don’t get me started on the whole renaissance thing.”

You snort, loudly, he avoids saying the kid’s actual name at all costs and the replacements are always top tier. “Wait - who is the ultimate twilight smash? 3-2-1…”

“Charlie,” you both say at the same time, grinning at your cultured tastes.

“Ultimate smash number 2?” he asks and you both respond, “Sam,” within a matter of seconds.

Jun laughs, a hand on his hip, “I don’t know what it is but you just get me.”

You chuckle, turning away from the counter but it ends in a frown when you dip your finger beneath the material of your shirt and find a fro-yo stain at the bottom. “Junhuiii~” you sigh without looking, “I’ll brb, gotta go see if I can rinse this stain out.”

Jun nods and busies himself organizing the donut display though there isn’t much to organize. The pace at night is either steady or so quiet there isn’t much to maintain unlike the day-time rush. The two of you have things pretty spotless by the time you leave each night. 

The door chimes and Jun looks up with a big smile on his face that drops into an awkward tight grimace.

“Oh, hey, Rin,” he greets as his ex-something, they had never actual had a label, approaches the register “N-need a donut?”

Rin smiles and leans on the counter, “Long time no see, Wen Junhui. You haven’t returned my call.”

Jun looks out into the dining room as if some random patron can save him from the awkward situation but alas, none jump to their feet. “You didn’t leave me a message…”

He chuckles nervously and presses his finger to the counter, “You know…beeeeeep.”

She blinks long and hard, attempting to squash her temper. “I see you’ve grown so much,” she sighs to herself and then schools a smile onto her pretty face, “Anyway, we should go out, catch up over dinner…how’s tomorrow for you?”

“Uhhh, don’t you have like a guy, like a boy-,” he’s kind of old, “Man, uh, friend?”

Rin shifts uncomfortably, “David isn’t the jealous type and besides,” she leans in further and reaches for Jun’s arm, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey, did you call for me?” you say suddenly and Jun turns to find you coming up to his side, pulling his arm out of reach with wide eyes and a sigh of relief. Rin retracts her hand and glances down at your fingers ghosting over Jun’s, narrowing her eyes.

She points her manicured finger in accusation. “Are you two together or something?”

“Yes,” you say before Jun has a chance to answer and his eyes grow wider if possible, not leaving your face for one second as you glare at Rin across the counter.

Rin laughs and you smile. “Jun, go check on the security cameras in the office.”

He stares at the space above your head for a moment then looks back down with furrowed brows, “Wait, those don’t wo-”

“Right, they don’t work,” you drawl in a flat tone, still staring at Rin who seems to be losing a bit of steam, “Must have forgot. Go sweep.”

“But-”

“Junhui,” You look at him with a tight smile, “Go sweep.”

He wearily shuffles away and you set your eyes back on Rin. “What are you doing here?”

“Look,” she flips her long hair over her shoulder condescendingly, as if she’s about to impart you with real-world wisdom, “Girl to girl, he’s hot and a great lay, but save yourself the trouble. He’s a man child who cares more about his little dolls and made up characters than he ever will about you.”

“Oh? Is that why you were here trying to ask him out again?”

Rin’s mouth falls open slightly and she goes to speak but you beat her to it.

“Because your super mature, rich, sugar daddy boyfriend is what? Incredibly sad in the sack?” you grit your teeth, frowning in faux-sympathy, “Probably only talks about golf and sailing and 401ks, huh? Lasts like 10 minutes and grunts a lot, hmm? You must be so bored.”

Rin gets angry but she doesn’t yell, too aware of the other people within earshot if she were to raise her voice. “At least he pays attention to me and cares about things other than movies and video games! Dating Jun was like babysitting an overgrown teenager!”

You place both hands on either side of the register, “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re a boring, vapid bitch and you have nothing in common with Jun - who is incredibly thoughtful and intuitive with me by the way,” you narrow your eyes and whisper, “Sounds like that was a you problem - and now you’re here thinking you can walk right in and have him back? As if what? He was just waiting for you to call him back to your side? Like a dog?”

She opens her mouth to argue and you hold up a hand, “Listen, Rin, you’re a smart girl, so I know you’ll understand when I tell you that if you attempt to disrespect Jun like this, ever again, I will shove a fistful of crushed peanuts so far down your throat that pretty face will swell up before you reach the door.”

Rin gasps in horror and you tilt your head, “What? You thought Jun wasn’t listening when you mentioned your deathly serious allergy the first time you met? Ah, it seems he does pay attention - not that you cared enough to notice even though he refused peanut butter everything, which he loves, from the moment he met you, always asked if things were made with peanut oil, etcetera, god forbid he hurt you in some way for being exposed himself.”

She stutters, “I…I d-didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you come around the counter and Rin backs toward the door the closer you get, “Now get the fuck out of my building before I-”

The words fall out in a shriek of surprise as Jun runs up behind you, loops an arm around your middle and picks you up, quickly carrying you back behind the counter, “Bye Rin!” he says hastily, “You probably shouldn’t come back…like ever!”

A few customers stare at Rin who quickly disappears through the doors and to you being physically escorted around the counter and out of sight before they go back to their treats. It’s too late for them to make it their business it seems. 

Jun doesn’t put you down until you’re in the tiny back office and once he does you cross your arms, “What was that for?! I was handling it.”

He flashes a smile and then rushes forward to kiss you, clumsily running your back into an old filing cabinet but his arms are there to cushion the blow and you’re too busy thinking about how soft his lips are to complain about anything at the moment anyhow. Eventually one hand cradles the back of your head and he eases back, giggling at your closed lids. “Thank you for sticking up for me,” he says quietly and you pop your eyes open, looking back at him.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, eyes caught on the sincere smile he offers.

Jun lets out a little puff of amusement. “So, we’re together?”

You groan, pushing him back though he clings onto you, unwillingly to let you get away so easily, “I was just saying that to make her leave you alone. I told you we’re not dating.”

He furrows his brows teasingly, “Seriously? I put on the sexy maid costume for you and we had an hour long discussion about pegging. We’re totally dating.”

Laughter knots your stomach and you try to wiggle out of his long arms, “You liked it more than I did, rat boy! Let me go!”

“No!” he struggles to hold his grip on your squirming and twisting, “You’re so cute and I wanna hold you!”

“We’re working!” you hiccup after giggling so hard, “Unhand me you cheeseball!”

Jun suddenly lets you go but catches your hand, grinning like a fool. “Say ‘Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with’ and I’ll let you go.”

You mumble a bunch of words under your breath and tug your arm to no avail, “Wen Junhui, loser extraordinaire, is sort of good looking-”

“And?” Jun raises his chin, eyes peering down patiently.

“- And maybe, is my friend boy, that I l-”

“Love,” he fills in, nodding as he feeds you words.

You fake gag, “Love…in a totally platonic way-”

Jun gasps and your eyes light up, “Liar!” he laughs, “Say it!”

You’re such a liar and you both know it. It’s been weeks now that you’ve practically been attached at the hip - going out, staying in, watching movies, playing games, talking and laughing all the time. Not to mention you’re in his apartment in a t-shirt and underwear more often than you’re in your own these days.

“Having a boyfriend is really going to kill my game with the ladies but I guess if I have to have one, you’re the best option and maybe I do love you just a little. Like the smallest amount. A crumb from the world’s tiniest cookie. Microscopic. I barely like you.”

Jun beams, “Good enough for me,” he loosens his grip and you walk back up the the front to check on things. You’ve both been gone a little too long.

“Since you’re my girlfriend can I call you cute names? Baby, sweetheart, honey, angel,” he offers and you look over your shoulder with a grimace, “Lover, goddess, beloved mistress of the night…”

“Jun…those are terrible and I'm going to drown you in strawberry fro-yo if you do not shut up or if anyone on this god forsaken earth ever hears you call me those things out loud.”

“Yes, my beautiful rat queen. Whatever you wish,” he bows comically and you flap your hand loose from his grip, running back up to the register but Jun is never more than three feet behind you. “Hey, you’re still coming home with me right?”

You ignore him, aimlessly poking at the screen and he leans beside you, still whispering discreetly, “Mingyu finally let me borrow his guitar hero because I told him it’s your favorite…and it’s the original…”

You finally look up at him and he grins, knowing he’s got you.

“Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with,” you murmur and then you look out into the dining room finding only one customer left in the building, pointing him out to Jun, “The sooner he leaves the sooner we get to go play. You know what to do.”

Jun stretches and cracks his knuckles, “I’m about to make this man so uncomfortable.”

“I have faith in you,” you pat his shoulder, chuckling, “Make me proud, dummy.”

He tries kissing you before he walks away but his lips meet the palm of your hand.

“Sorry, I only kiss rat boys who can beat me in guitar hero, you’ll have to wait.”

He walks and then stops, looking very serious and contemplative, “Ok but you can’t play it with Mingyu or Woozi then because they’re like really good and you can only kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing anyone unless you get us out of here.”

“Right,” he focuses his gaze on the poor soul in the corner of the dining room and grins, “Be ready to leave in ten minutes,” and then he’s moving and you’re left giggling behind the counter.

Yeah, he’s still kind of a loser but he’s your loser now and that somehow just feels right. 

You know what else feels right?

Giving Jun that overdue wedgie the second you clock out and listening to him complain all the way home that you’re an actual super villain for waiting months for him to let his guard down just to turn around and desecrate his honor in the Yo-Nuts parking lot. All while holding your hand in the car.

Jun is probably right. You two are perfect for each other. 

Thanks for reading! 

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

[seijorhi]

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute. 

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 

Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 

It bothers him. 

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly. 

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true. 

It’s just not the entire reason. 

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 

He wants all of you. 

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

[doppopoppo]

|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||

|| Warnings: minor sexual harassment ||

|| Uramichi • Shy|F!Reader ||

Clubbing

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

With the music blaring, more than what he was used to, Uramichi got a headache. He didn't even want to come here. He would much prefer their usual restaurant to drink. But Usahara being the annoying fool he is, dragged everyone to some club he frequents. Something about wanting to see the cute bartender. He should’ve just gone home.

Uramichi looked around the table. Utano was beyond drunk and complaining about her boyfriend. Iketeru was up on stage singing. He was drunk but still sounded good. Kumatani was busy trying to get Iketeru down from the stage. Usahara hitting on the bartender. The annoyed and exhausted man was busy smoking his cigarette, hoping he could go home soon.

“Look at those girls.” Uramichi heard Utano speak up, “oogling over Iketeru like that. Just cuz he’s got a nice voice and looks doesn’t mean shit!” He watched her complain and drop her head on the table. Probably crying.

Just as she said, he could see girls of all ages fawning over Iketeru. Some were even cooing at Kumatani, touched by his big brotherly gestures at Iketeru. Just how drunk was everyone tonight? He’ll get Usahara for this later. At least they’re having fun, well, most of them. Uramichi felt pity for Utano, but there was nothing he could do. So, he just gave a simple pat on her head to calm her down as she cried her soul out.

“Um, excuse me.” He heard a soft, meek voice near him.

Uramichi paid no mind. It was probably some conversation he was overhearing. Utano complained to him and wanted to know why her boyfriend still hasn't asked her to marry him. She’s been dropping hints. He felt awkward as he had no answer to it, considering he wasn’t close to either of them. He sighed, he’ll probably leave soon. But he feels bad leaving his friends drunk inside a club.

Uramichi felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see a young girl, perhaps no older than 25. She looked to be very shy, a faint blush apparent on her <skin color> cheeks. She wasn’t looking at him either but at her fingers, which she was twiddling. “Um, hi there.” Her blush intensified.

It was the same voice as earlier. So, it belonged to her and it was directed at him. He wasn’t interested in getting with some girl he had just met in the club. “Listen, I’m not a cordial man. Nor am I interested.” He quickly rejected the girl. Plus, she deserves someone better than him anyways. He’s in his 30s already, she’s got time to find someone better or improve herself; unlike him.

“There ya are cutie!” He heard a gruff voice coming towards his table.

Utano had long passed out and his friends were still busy doing what they already were. Why is everyone so social in this club?

He can hear the girl mumbling and, was she shaking?

“Where’d ya go? I turn around an ya gone.” The man came up to the trembling girl.

She clung onto the hem of her dress. “I was looking for a friend.” He could hear the fear in her voice. “I couldn’t find them.” She whispered and turned away from Uramichi.

“‘s okay pretty lady. You’ve got me to keep you company tonight and the bed warm.” His hand slipped up to her waist. A sly and gross smile displayed on his face.

Uramichi saw the young girl flinch. He’s not sure if it’s the drinks rushing through his body, but he quickly got up. “You should lay your grimy hands off people who don’t want it on them.” He glared at the gruff man. “Especially not my girlfriend.” Uramichi wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the man.

A gasp left the girl's mouth when she heard him. She stumbled back and felt his toned chest on her back. Despite smelling like cigarettes and alcohol, he was warm.

Uramichi now understood the situation. She wasn’t trying to hit on him or take him back to her place, vice versa. She was trying to protect herself from some man making inappropriate advancements on her. He didn’t like men like that one bit. The girl in his arms didn’t deserve this, no one did.

He could feel her trembling under his arm, so he pulled her closer. He slightly moved Utano to the side and had the girl sit next to his seat.

“Hey listen! She was the one asking for it!” The man defended his actions. “Dancing on the dance floor and swaying her hips.” He licked his lips.

Uramichi was disgusted.

“She was simply enjoying herself. In no sense was she asking for you, or anyone, to come talk to her.” He glared at the man. “She has me to come back to.” Uramichi smirked.

This was extremely out of character for him, but he couldn’t stand by and let someone get harassed. Not when she came to his table for help as well. The stranger, no longer interested, cursed him out. He knew he’d have no chances of winning in a fight against Uramichi. All those muscles weren’t just for show. He walked away, leaving the tree of them at the table.

“Thank you.” He heard her say behind him.

He was grateful she was unharmed. He gave her a fresh glass of water to cool down from the recent event.

“My name's Y/N.” She put her hand out to shake his. “Mines Uramichi.” He replied.

“Sorry to have bothered you and your girlfriend. You didn’t have to do that.” The girl was afraid to look up at him.

She’s right. He didn’t have to, “but it was the right thing to do. I’m glad you’re safe.” He shook her hands. ‘They’re soft.’ He thought to himself. Especially against his own rough palm. “Also,” he pointed to the passed out Utano, “not my girlfriend. Just a coworker. Out with coworkers after clocking out.” He explained and sat down next to her. She seems to have calmed down.

She made an ‘Ah’ face and apologized for the misunderstanding. She looked at him properly for the first time, ‘He’s handsome.’ she thought to herself. Right as she was about to excuse herself, Uramichi spoke up, “you’re free to stay with us at the table until you leave.” He proposed, “for safety measures.” She took him up on his offer and thanked him for his generosity. He reminded her of an older brother figure.

Usahara came back to their table, confused, yet happy, to see the unfamiliar, pretty girl. Right after him, Iketeru and Kumatani joined their table. They all had questioning looks. Uramichi explained what had happened and the girl kept saying thank you.

Kumatani scolded her for coming to a club alone late at night. Iketeru sang random tunes to lighten up the mood. Usahara attempted to flirt with her but Uramichi glared at him each time. Utano’s still passed out. From what he’s noted, she’s shy but gets along with others with ease. Maybe he’ll hang around a bit longer. It’ll be rude of him to not walk his “girlfriend” back home.

Author’s Note:

This came out better in my head, I swear! As a manga reader, I like to think Uramichi actually considers his coworkers his friends 🥺 Thank you for the requests so far! I see y’all thirsty for a specific person at the moment aye 👀 they should be up by the end of the week, be on the look out!

Also I wanted to thank you all for the support you have shown me so far 💜 it means a lot and truly does motivate me to continue writing. Feel free to DM me if you want someone to talk about the anime with XD

Enjoy!

[diavolosthots]

Felt like crying, so I came to you, my friend! Mc and Mammon went out shopping, specifically to buy gifts for his brothers, as an apology. When they get back home they are met with hostility. They berate Mammon until Mc screams at them to shut up, then rips into each of them for their treatment of Mammon. Then finishes with "Don't expect Mammon to stay here when he can live with me in the humanworld. I'm done with you. Mammon, lets go, you deserve better, love" and leaves w/ Mammon. Thank you!

You came to me because you felt like crying and that gives me two (2) things to think about. 1.) I'm apparently someone who people see as a tissue? 2.) My angst is just THAT good. Also! Apparently today is rain on Mammon day and I'm here for it not me avoiding my exam to write these things

Warning: uh.... Angst?

Soul-Searching (MAMMON X GN!READER ft. THE BROTHERS)

“You know, I’m proud of you for suggesting this.” Truly, you were. Mammon was your favorite and you felt for him, but you also completely understood where his brothers came from. At first, it honestly annoyed you as well; the constant stealing, the lying… You tried blaming it on his avatar, but even then it doesn’t explain the lying that comes with it. However, you do realize that it’s a habit and it’s a habit that is hard to fix, so instead of constantly getting onto him like the rest, you tried to understand him a bit more and give him some life advice. So far, you have managed to get Mammon to give back all the things he has recently taken from his brothers, and some of them even got an apology. You’ll be working on how to properly apologize, though, because oof, that was a mess. 

And now? Now you managed to take a small trip with him downtown to at least attempt to make things better. Mammon is now, or at least today, using his own money to buy some things that his brothers would be fond of: a new vinyl player for Lucifer (non-cursed), a new Ruri-chan t-shirt for Leviathan, a neck pillow for Satan because lord knows he has some cramps back there with the way he leans over and down to read his books. Then some perfume for Asmodeus that he had been swooning about, a gift card to Beel’s favorite restaurant for the glutton, and a heated blanket for Belphie. You were proud, truly, that Mammon wanted to do this. As a matter of fact, he was the one who suggested it. “Maybe… uh.. I could… ya know… buy somethin’ they like” is what he said. You were just excited and agreed to help. 

Now you were going back to the house with a few shopping bags and ice cream almost fully eaten. You paid for the ice cream, as a way to reward Mammon, and you’re sure he’s secretly thanking you for that because some of these items truly did burn a hole into his credit card, which is partially his fault. “Lucifer deserves more than some random vinyl player.” his words, not yours. Also “satan needs one of them neck pillows that massage it, too!” again, his words. So yeah, some money was definitely spent on these items, but… once again, you were proud. “I think they’ll love everything, Mam. They’d be fools if they didn’t.” Hearing you say that made Mammon feel a lot better, honestly, and a small rush of confidence came to the surface “Ya betcha they will! Nothin’ but the best from the Great Mammon!” You just laughed. 

However, upon arrival, it was a different sight. As a matter of fact, you barely made it through the door before Beel was grumbling something about Mammon eating his custard, which is true, but it’s just a custard? “MAAMMMOONNN!!” and then there was Lucifer who appeared so fast you wondered if he was even real. He went on a whole rant about how irresponsible Mammon is and how another bill came in the mail that talks about Mammon’s debt. Satan and Belphegor teamed up to show empty hands, which left both you and Mammon confused, but then “do you see anything here? No? That’s because you sold our belongings, Mammon!” Mammon can be lucky that Leviathan was still holed up in his room because he just remembered that he also, at some point in the past, sold one of Levi’s figures. Asmodeus came last and honestly he wasn’t mad, he was just annoyed. “I saw you go through my things, Mammon. Nothing was taken, but it was still so incredibly rude!” 

Next followed a screaming match which was basically just Mammon trying to defend himself, trying to show the bags and apologize, but none of them would have it. It irritated you. Yes, they had every right to be mad because personal belongings should stay with their owner(s), but at the same time, they didn’t even give Mammon a chance to explain, especially after he’s been holding the bags up and attempting to apologize. “You’re so stupid, Mammon” “StupidMammon” “so irresponsible. You know better than that. Do you need another time out session, Mammon?” “I can’t believe you’d go through my stuff again!” by now your eyes were twitching and the voices echoing off the walls surely didn’t help your case. One more word and you’d snap, surely, especially since Mammon’s hand is now shaking and you grabbing it did nothing at all. “We would be better off without you.”

Ah yes, there it is. The final straw. The amount of anger boiling inside you right now isn’t even manageable anymore and you’re surprised that Satan, as the Avatar of Wrath, has yet to notice it. “Shut up! Shut up, Shut up, Shut up! All of you!” You yanked Mammon behind you, almost protectively and Belphegor found the need to laugh at it. “Really? You’re going to protect him?” Oh, there. That’s your first victim. “Are you really that dense, Belphegor, or is sleep still clouding your brain cells? That is your brother you’re currently making fun of and I don’t know about you, but I was taught that family sticks together, blood related or by choice. So how about you get your head out of dreamland, take this stupid heated blanket that he bought for you, as an apology, and wake up for a second.” yes, you did throw the bag at him and then you pointed your finger at Beel. You’d regret later on that you’re tearing into him as well because Beel means well at the end of the day, but still, he was also part of this. 

“You’re my least worry, Beel. Honestly you’re too caught up in your burgers and brawns to care for a second that your brother tries very hard to be liked by all of you. Sad, really.” you threw the card at him too. As a matter of fact, you threw all of the bags right in front of them. “And then Asmo.. oh my God, first of all, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Shocker, I know. If you were half as empathetic toward your family as you are obsessed with yourself, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to always go party and drink your life away. Oh, I’m sorry, did that hit just a little too hard? Can’t be harder than the hangovers you wake up with on a regular basis.” You glared at him before turning your attention to Satan. “Honestly, if you weren’t such a baby inside I may actually be scared of you. You always complain about how stupid he is, how he needs to just learn, but you? What do you do all day? You hole yourself up in your room and read about worlds that you wish you could enter. News flash: you’d die before you had the chance to say hello. People don’t like self-proclaimed assholes. Mammon IS smart. He’s very talented, too, but you’re too far up in Shakespeare’s ass that you fail to realize that everyone has knowledge in different fields of life. Give me a break.” 

Satan was about to retort but you already moved on to Levi. “and you! Let’s be honest, if it weren’t for you wallowing in self-pity and fake depression, you would have absolutely no personality traits. What are you again? The Avatar of Envy? How about instead of being envious of others’ accomplishments, you actually start working on yourself. It’s truly pathetic that a couple millenia old demon’s only purpose in life is ramen and self inflicted emotional pain. Seriously, what are you? A pitiful loner? I can’t even begin to empathize with you in any way, shape, or form.” Your blood was boiling right now and maybe if they hadn’t attacked Mammon like they did, you would’ve felt bad about Levi’s sad face right now, but there was still one person left to deal with.”

“And you… beautiful, responsible, way-too-good-for-you older brother, Lucifer.” He’s been glaring at you this whole time, arms crossed over his chest but you stood your ground. You’re not quite sure how you managed, but you did. “You call yourself the best, the most responsible. You constantly say this family would fall apart without you, but that’s not it, is it? I think you’re just lonely. You force these six to be by you, to respect you and borderline worship you. Not because you deserve it…” you chuckled, shaking your head, “no. You’re just so sad that Daddy and Michael left you, mocked you, that you turned your sadness into anger and took it out on these six, but especially Mammon. Why? Because you see yourself in him. You call him your favorite brother, but it’s not because he actually is… he just reminds you of everything you used to be: fun, reckless, and feeling. Now you’re just cold, mean, and bitter. Don’t bother calling yourself the mighty first because without him you would be neither. Maybe if you pulled that stick out of your arse and actually tried to get to know your brothers, maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely all the time. Family, right? That’s what you want. How about you start acting like one.” 

You shook your head after that, grabbing Mammon’s hand and kicking the bags in front of you before dragging Mammon back out the door. “Those are for you, by the way. Not that you deserve them, but they’re Mammon’s way of apologizing for all the things you accused him of the minute he set foot into the house. Have fun. We’re going to the castle and, if we’re lucky, to a real home.” 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

RE8 Ladies + Love Languages

While this isn't terribly long per character, I am putting it under a read-more for the combined length. Some characters have more details than others, partially due to how much I've written for them (and therefore had time to think about how they show their affections). For once the contents are not in alphabetical order. Crazy, right? PS there's a very, very brief implication of NSFW in Daniela's section.

Features the entire Dimitrescu family, Mother Miranda, Donna Beneviento, and as a lil bonus Ava.

Cassandra Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Physical touch

Secondary Love Language: Acts of Service

Examples: Constantly wants to be touching some part of her lover, even if she sometimes pretends otherwise, from hand holding to making them sit in her lap. So goddamn touch starved. Preferably sleeps with her lover sprawled out on top of her, weighing her down, soothed by the constant pressure. Seriously, this woman needs someone to hold her as close as possible, running their fingers through her hair, pressing soft little kisses along her neck + shoulder. And then repeat. Every single day. For life.

Treating her lover’s wounds, or bringing them tea to soothe their nightmares, or monitoring their health when they're sick (see: Bound Blood + We Don’t Talk About That). Cassandra hates feeling like she owes someone, and isn’t fond of others owing her (because when they pay her back, she might end up owing them “the difference”). When it comes to love, however, all debts feel paid as soon as they are incurred. She does things for her beloved because she cares for them, expecting nothing in return. Sure, she’ll complain about the effort, but it doesn’t really bother her, and she truly hopes her lover knows that.

Mother Miranda:

Primary Love Language: Acts of Service

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: Despite the decades she has spent as a Goddess, commanding the willing masses, Miranda doesn’t put much emphasis on words. Instead, she values actions above all else. She doesn't care if someone says that they are devoted to her, she wants to see the effects of that devotion. In turn, she much prefers to show her affection rather than voice it, even if it leaves her lover less sure of her feelings. One must keep in mind that she is the leader of an entire region, and the fact that she chooses to personally take care of something for you means a hell of a lot. Even if it’s just making you a cup of tea whenever she brews some for herself, or something as big as setting up a studio for you and your personal projects, or simply ensuring that your favorite meals are added to the rotation.

Similar, in some aspects, to her preference to showcase her love rather than announce it, Miranda takes pride in her ability to select gifts. She remembers just about everything you ever tell her, easily memorizing things you express interest in. Though she won’t make a big deal out of it, you’ll often find little gifts from her lying around, casual reminders of how much of her attention is devoted to you.

Daniela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Physical Touch

Examples: What can she say, she loves to be worshipped. Having someone look at her with eyes full of adoration, one hand cupping her cheek, as they list a thousand reasons why they love her? That’s all she wants. Or sitting with her lover’s head in her lap, listening to them recite poetry that reminds them of her, while she runs her fingers through their hair. Ooh, or hearing them cry out her name like something holy as she all but buries her head between their legs. But don’t worry, she’s just as eager to return the favor, singing soft praises dedicated to her beloved. Admittedly, her compliments are sometimes a tad roundabout (so to speak).

“Mmm,” she’ll hum, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world. Living in a castle, my every need catered to, endless life, and, of course, the most darling little pet I could ever ask for. What more could I want?” Then she’ll pull her lover close, a kiss against their pulse point to claim them as her own. It’s impossible for her to determine her favorite place to touch her lover. There are little spots that elicit sweet sounds from them, then there are places where their warmth is a tad fiercer than normal, pure bliss against her own freezing skin. Wherever she touches them, it’s a silent declaration of her love.

Bela Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Words of Affirmation

Examples: It doesn’t matter what she does with her lover, as long as they are together, in the same room if not actively pressed against each other. Any hobby of theirs is one that she’ll instantly take interest in. An academic at heart, she loves to learn, regardless of the subject, and takes endless delight in learning from those close to her. There’s something incredible about the feeling she gets when she gets a chance to show her lover how much she remembers, and she sees that spark of joy in their eyes.

Considering her fondness for classical literature, it’s no surprise that she adores using language to convey the depths of her affection. Whether she’s quoting Sappho or Shakespeare, she often relies on dead poets to express herself. In turn, she cannot even begin to describe the feeling she gets when her lover returns the gesture, especially if they go so far as to write something original for her. More than once she’s tried to craft her own poetry, but has found herself lacking (at least to her own standards). One thing she enjoys is memorizing poetry written by someone from her lover’s home country, assuming that they’re not from Romania.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Primary Love Language: Gift Giving/Physical Touch

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Considering the era in which she was born, it’s not terribly surprising that Alcina’s affection often manifests in less obvious ways. A hand on her lover’s back, guiding them along, or letting her knee touch theirs when they sit next to each other, or gently reaching out to give one of their hands a soft pat during quiet conversations. On top of that, she gives out gifts almost constantly. Oh, her lover very briefly mentioned enjoying a local artist? Well, Alcina will be certain to purchase several (or most) of their recent work. Did her beloved muse out loud about not having much jewelry? That won’t do! She’ll get them a large assortment, including plenty that bear the crest of House Dimitrescu. Everyone will know who her lover is, if only for the way that they are adorned with her loveliest finery.

Much like her eldest daughter (who likely takes after her mother), Alcina also enjoys the barest of interactions with her darling. With the endless stretch that is her potential lifespan, she knows that she has all the time in the world to learn new skills, or experience all that the village has to offer. Nothing warms her heart quite like the idea of getting to enjoy those things with the people that matter most to her- namely her partner and her children.

Donna Beneviento:

Primary Love Language: Quality Time

Secondary Love Language: Gift Giving

Examples: An odd mix of shy and calculating, Donna Beneviento is not one to rely on words, nor does she often take grand actions where others may observe. Instead, she works (and weaves) within the shadows. When it comes to love, she prefers to let her priorities reveal her feelings. Day after day, she chooses to spend time with her partner, regardless of the activity. If they ask for her company, she gives it without hesitation. She invites them to join her in the garden, or give input on her latest creations, and ensures that they are readily involved in just about every aspect of her life.

Being as talented as she is with crafting (both the overall art of doll-making and the somewhat related ability to sew all sorts of clothing), ‘tis not surprising that she also turns to gifts to express herself. From knitting hats in winter to soft blankets when her partner is sick, she provides for them in the easiest way she knows how.

Avaskian Caldwell:

Primary Love Language: Physical Touch/Words of Affirmation

Secondary Love Language: Quality Time

Examples: Arguably the most touch-starved person ever to exist, xer only possible rival being Cassandra. Struggles to strike a balance between hating being touched unexpectedly and wanting constant physical attention. Will give affectionate shoulder/back pats, loves forehead kisses/bumps, literally cannot sleep without cuddling someone/something (such as a stuffed animal). At the same time, a lifetime of severe anxiety has made it so that xe often relies on verbal encouragement from others to feel good/motivate xerself. Xe craves compliments, and defaults to poetry as a way of expressing love for others. One might think that being selectively mute might put a damper on this. However, if anything, it just furthers the value of xer speech. You know that xe cares about you if xe not only writes you poetry, but reads it aloud for you.

In true introvert/anxiety-riddled-bean fashion, Ava is also more than content to just chill with loved ones. Xe grew up in an admittedly fucked up family, but some of xer happiest childhood memories are of xerself sitting with xer brother, watching while he played through videogame after videogame, or sitting together on the big couch and reading. Years later, xe has a strong instinct to want to recreate those moments with xer new (slightly less fucked up) family.