#There are so many ways and he chose to throw down a fake body

[ceruleanvermillion]

hes so funny

I’m tired of people acting like Zhongli is a serious and chill guy who would never cause problems on purpose as if he isn’t one of the biggest menaces out of the Seven. He used to throw mountains at Venti for annoying him. He, the god of history, starts fights among historians for shits and giggles. He tried to gaslight the Traveler into thinking he was totally not at the Chasm guys really Aether/Lumine you must be seeing things maybe you should go see Baizhu. When Qiqi wanted “Cocogoat” milk he was like “Oh yeah sure totally let’s go look for it” knowing damn well it was a wild goose chase. He made the Traveler sing to a flower and then was like “Oh would you look at that” when a Whooperflower jumped out to maul them. I love him. He’s like a cat pushing things off the counter to see how people react. I would pay to see him interact directly with Neuvillette because I know for a fact he’d get on that man’s nerves and argue about water tasting just to feel something. Furina used freedom from godhood to take a nap and Zhongli used it to give psychic damage to anyone who talks to him longer than 5 minutes. Iconic.

[laligraves]

morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 

She throws a sponge at your head. 

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  

- 

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 

“Good morning,” you whisper. 

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 

“How did you know–” 

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 

“How dare you–”  

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 

His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 

“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 

[kikijackson-blog]

A is for Apple but Also for...? Phonics - Coco Special Birthday Edition

The celebration continues after everyone has gone.

Coco, Reader

Readers 18+ Only Please.

Warnings: Language and sexual references. Aside from that it's mostly fluff.

“Babe,” you shout out as you finish throwing the last paper plate away.

“Do you want something from the kitchen?”

“Yeah, you.” Coco answered from the living room.

He was sprawled out on the couch watching TV. Some children’s show was playing. He always acted annoyed when it would come on but deep down it always brought him joy hearing the opening music. He’d never admit that though but he didn’t have to, you knew it. You smile as you make your way to him. You had told him he could watch anything he wanted to today. It was his day after all and this is what he chose. But it wasn’t the show he was watching, it was the person watching it that pulled at his heart strings and hearing her laugh and sing along was one of his favorite things to do.

He moved his feet to make room for you but as you take a seat next to him he reaches out and pulls you to him.

“I told you I’d help you clean up but you wouldn’t let me. Me corriste de la cocina like I offended you or something.” He said in a childishly exaggerated fake hurt tone with a fake pout to match.

He kissed your forehead as you snuggled into him. “Please, you know there was no way in hell I was going to let you do any work today. That’s why you even offered.”

A guilty smile crossed his face, “Yeah but I still offered. That's what counts, right.”

You look into his eyes like it’s the first time you’d seen them and in one quick moment you see everything in them. The past, how you first met, your first “sort of” date, everything the two of you had been through to get to this point. The journey was long and filled with ups and downs. More downs than ups and many were the times where you’d almost thrown in the towel, but you made it here somehow and you wouldn’t trade any of it.

“Happy birthday,” softly you say to the man who had forever changed your world.

“Thank you.” It was as if he could see it in your eyes, he knew exactly what you’d been thinking of.

“For not giving up on me.”

“A is for?” said the character on TV.

“Apple!” shouted an over excited little voice.

In your ear he whispers, “A is for anal.” You playful smack him in the chest.

“Can I have some?”

You laughed as you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“But it’s my birthday.” He reminds you. “You said I could have anything I want.”

“Was that your birthday wish?”

He held you tighter as you shared a passionate kiss when you heard little footsteps hurriedly making their way to you. You could feel his smile against your own. Both of you turn to see this beautiful bundle of chaos in pigtails running towards the both of you, her ringlets bouncing all the way. She was a menace, a spoiled princess who if you let her get started was an unstoppable force and her father wouldn’t have it any other way. That was his angel even when she was being a devil. She was holding onto a piece of paper. You recognized it as soon as you’d seen it, it was a project she’d been working on all day.

“Cuddle party!” She shouted. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, she jumped onto the sofa with you and Coco.

“Happy birthday, daddy.” She shoved her masterpiece in his face. “I made it for you, daddy.”

You and Coco look at it and are both puzzled but she’s waiting for him to say something.

“For me?”

She nodded, “Yes, just for you.”

“Thank you, mija.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” he could feel you silently laughing against his body, your face buried in his neck trying to contain it. “It’s a beautiful.”

“Can you tell what it is? Can you, daddy?”

“Um- yeah it’s...uh…it’s-”

Her big beautiful brown eyes looked into his, filled with such pride in her artwork and so much love for her dad.

“Babe, what is this?” He whispered in your ear.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore and just let it go. Your little girl laughed with you, not knowing what you were laughing at but she wanted in on that.

You both smiled.

The three of you embraced in this cuddle party and watched TV like that until she fell asleep. It took a while to get out of that tangled mess as you both tried carefully not to wake her.

“I’ll put her in bed.” Coco mouthed. “You.” He motioned with his head to the bed the two of you shared with that devilish smile you’d long grown accustomed to. You knew full well what that smiled meant.

You quickly got out of your clothes and into the red lacy babydoll that you had purchased just for tonight.

“Babe, really, what the fuck is this?” Coco asked, drawing in hand, studying it closely. You stand right night to him and for a long while the two of you try to decipher the puzzle until he brought his lips so close to yours, you could feel his breathe as he said, “Thank you for giving her to me.”

“No. Thank you.” You take another glance at the picture as you take it in your hands before laying it on the dresser.

“Hmmm, but I think we should get her some art classes ‘cause I have no fuckin’ clue. It looks like a melted unicorn.”

“Nah, baby, it ain’t got no horn.”

“Well, then what’s that pointy thing?” You asked.

He turned to look at you. “I don’t-” it was the first time he’d taken in the full sight of you in that sexy red piece. It was his favorite color but you already knew that.

“Fuck.” He was all he said.

He ran his hands all over your body, kissing your neck, gently nibbling along down to your collarbone, making his way to your breasts when you stopped him.

“Oh, wait. I have a present for you.”

“Yeah, I know you do, baby.” He said huskily.

“No, I mean an actual present.”

“You already gave me my present earlier.” He said in between kisses.

“Yeah but I have one more for you.”

You pulled away from him to retrieve the small gift bag that rested next to your daughter’s art piece, forgotten for now.

Coco was a little annoyed at the absence of you in his arms and he didn’t protest quietly but he kept his eyes trained on you, watching every move you make, wondering what else you could have gotten him and why it couldn’t wait until after he got his real present.

“Here you go.”

He took the little bag and peeked in it. With that devilish smile plastered all over his face again he says, “Really?” as he pulls the bottle of astroglide out.

“Happy birthday.”

[lordkingsmith]

Still working on the fan power rangers show lol. It’s in its like. Seventh rewrite.

Max, the nonbinary hybrid orange ranger is, lovingly, my problem baby and I can’t decide what species mix they are. To be honest there’s too many gorgeous costume monster species designs and just one Max.

I have come up with a plausible reason for why rangers are letting the monster kids do the current rangerdom, and also have more fleshed out line up for the baddies.

The Z-Wave didn’t happen until Rito showed up again, so a lot of deaths and general plot has been a bit recontextualized and remixed. Rita decided she’d had enough of the villainy life and left siblings Thrax and Selena with Rito without a word-faked her own death. At the time she did this, Thrax was seven and Selena was three. Rito wants revenge but he’s mainly letting Selena and Thrax handle it while he does what he wants. Turn the moon into an amusement park. Because it’s fun and hey everyone loves fun right? And take care of the rangers he’s mind controlling because after the z-wave he’s more motivated by protecting “his kids” than actual revenge. Will throw down with Rita if needed, however.

Thrax has skin and so does Selena. Nobody looks flayed alive. Both of them greatly resemble Rita. Thrax is the one responsible for the giant version of their monsters, and as Val’s the one that often volunteers, this has led to teasing by Selena. Selena’s a lot like a spunky, smarter version of Rito. Thrax is more serious. Selena being the one who likes looking human most is often the one going down to earth to spy and cause trouble. Sometimes with Rito. Thrax prefers endless sulking and staying in more monstrous form, which is similar to Rito’s form. Keeps his opinions to himself, but is generally disgusted he got left behind while both parents decided to abandon him and Selena. Selena is also pissed but she holds out hope there’s a reason their mother abandoned them. Also more protective of her older brother. And her uncle. Is not afraid to kill. Nobody’s finding the bodies of those who hurt her family.

JJ when he was undercover had a fling with a woman in Skorpina’s gang, had a baby with her and they were briefly married and divorced…who came back as Quaxo. Think of this as the messiest custody battle in history. JJ, when he finds out, is…Not Pleased. Rito, Thrax and Selena don’t know who Quaxo really is and she’d rather keep it that way. Her son, however, does and has not been happy with the situation since. Flirts with Rito, though Rito has enough sense to recognize this is wholly because he’s the most powerful member of the group and generally acts extra ditzy to get her to leave him alone. As hyper as ever, as bone headed as ever, but this time he’s also a bit angry and the anger acts as just enough of a grounder to keep him somewhat dangerous. He does genuinely like the rangers, all of them, and much of his tension with his team and the human rangers is mutual misunderstanding based. Quaxo hasn’t quite understood this yet, and thinks it’s a game he’s playing. It’s not. Rito’s just Like That.

Billy’s Clone was located and brought back to life, and is making this everyone’s problem. He’s the one who made Rito’s Rangers their new morphers and he’s the one lowkey trying to get the other four killed by “accident” so he can take their power for himself. Guy goes by William. He’s responsible for Tommy, Jason, Trini and Udonna’s deaths but passed it off to everyone as accidents. Only person onto him is the new recruit, Valentine

Valentine “Val” Draven was directly affected by Z-Wave, losing his parents and aunt and uncle to it. He and his cousin Iva were spared by being in another dimension for a birthday party and while Iva’s fairly certain they wouldn’t have been destroyed or turned human anyway…Val’s less certain. He’s angry but he doesn’t know at who. He wants revenge but Zordon’s dead and Rito’s not a bad guy. Val’s also got the fact the color Fuchsia chose Iva, who happened to be in the room at the time, over him, who’d been asked to do this. He joins Rito because Rito makes sense. And the second he heard about Quaxo and William….well. He’s not a bad person. Not really. Someone’s got to make sure Rito’s Rangers are protected, and he’s not sure if Rito Thrax or Selena really understand how to keep the superpowered group safe. Plus, he might be a vampire but he’s got a sweet tooth. And he was promised unlimited cotton candy. Also a little bit sweet on Thrax but..who’s counting, really?

-

@augment-techs @skyland2703 @pinkrangerv

Just because I think you’d be interested lol, but yea it’s coming. Slowly. Working on first episode’s script, I shall keep you updated if you’d like :)

[onyourhyuck]

RED STRING THEORY. | L.HC | Part 1.

↳ summary: Kim Micha is an art coms film student, assigned to screen write a short film about love. One problem though. She has never dated anyone. With little knowledge about love itself, she goes to her childhood best friend Lee Donghyuck, for help. Lee Donghyuck is a theatre student and is a well known player around the campus. What happens when the boundary between friends and lovers becomes blurry?

↳ The warnings: SERIES. workplace strict fake relationship type dynamic going on. Fake dating. Micha is inexperienced about dating and love in general. University theme. Donghyuck is a bit of a player but he means well…ish. Mark and Ningning are friend mutuals. Crack. Fluff. Angst. Romance. Slight spicy smut when more parts are released. Strict parents mention. Grades mention. teacher!Baekhyun mention.

↳ PART 2 LINK.

↳ notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR. I start the year with a new series <3 Follow me and reblog this fic if you want to get updates for more parts!

↳ tags: @sundamariis @kkakkdugi @lostmembrane @sayitditto @loveazri @yesohhsehun @glamourizz @neobic

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Love.

What does love mean to you? How would you describe your ideal love? Love perhaps could mean so many different things to other people, many look at love and think of their family; their parents, siblings, grandparents and so on. Many think blood isn’t thicker than water than how many say it was, and value more of their friendships viewing them to be love. The traditional way of thinking about love would be romantically, but even so, romantically has many options to chose from. So many foreign options to the film maker, Micha, assigned to screen write a short film about romance for this subject term.

The young student has no knowledge about love and whatsoever ever, it leaves her feeling damp. Like the grass after it was heavy raining, with lifeless heavy body and left to be soaking in to the mournful sorrows of how she is going to fail this assignment. She sighs in to her palms, next to her sitting would be a young girl with red hair and a boy next to the girl with magnetic electric blue hair and a rockstar kinda vibe to him.

Mark raised his eyebrow as he twirls in his seat, wearing the very much rocker clothing style he has going on. He can’t help but wonder what’s with her? “What’s wrong with you?”

Ningning shrugs turning to Micha, who lifts her head only to look down and bang it on the surface of the table she’s sitting in front of.

“Mr Byun happened.” She squeals, anticipating the large F- on her report. That way she will definitely have to repeat this grade next year. She doesn’t want to do that though, she came a long way to where she is now.

The boy lets out a soft ‘ohhh’ before shifting to the depressed and detained girl sighing as if it’s the world ending. He pats her back comfortingly, but it did anything but comfort to her future grade failures. Then, an opportunity risen, or so Micha caught on when the rushing boy coming into the cafeteria with a beaming smile and an upbeat musician vibe to him. The way his brunette curls flock in the air as he sits down in front of the three friends, he flashed a wink to Mark and Ningning before turning his full attention to the girl lifting her face up with a deadpan expression.

Donghyuck let’s out a whistle. “Sup crew was’ good.” He says with a flashy smile before Mark and Ningning shrug, motioning their hands to my way. The confused theatre boy looks about, clearly baffled until he met his best friend’s fed up expression that screams ‘Help me I wanna die’, Look. He knows that look all to well, something must’ve happened in her class with Mr Byun Baekhyun.

“What’s got your knickers dry, best friend?” Donghyuck jokingly throws.

Micha raised her eyebrows at her best friend. “Do you have anything better to do than make inappropriate comments about my panties?” He grins. “Nope when you look like you want to absolutely bury yourself six feet under in a coffin whilst you’re alive.”

I mean, he wasn’t wrong at all. If anything he was more than accurate. It amazes Micha how well he can take out words from her mouth that she couldn’t dare to speak out loud. Ningning and Mark soon left the area heading to grab something to eat, Micha did not go as she felt her appetite dimmer by the amounts of stress she is going through. Then an idea struck her when Donghyuck scrolls through his phone. A girl was eyeing him up and down from afar with a loose smirk plastering on her face, she was watching the boy as if he were her dinner. Micha leans closer whispering to her friend. “Yah, she’s watching you like she’s going to inhale you.” Donghyucks turns to the right way eyeing the girl back, he turns to Micha whispering. “I know. That’s my fling from last night.”

“You’re…experienced in dating right?” Micha comes forward leaning causing him abruptly lean back. The girl was standing up now leaning all over the cafeteria table, coming closer and closer to end the gap between her friend. He looks at her, blinking a few times by the sudden change of demure from Micha; she was now assertive and determined. But determined for what?? Donghyucks let’s out a ‘Huh?’ Before Micha continues to speak above him.

Micha huffs out. “I- I mean, you have your experience with women right? In love? Don’t you?”

“Yes, why? What’s going on with you.” Donghyuck blurts out, he can’t help but wonder if Mr Baekhyun has already gotten to Micha and made her crazy, after so many years of suffering in the Art Comms Filming department major.

“Help me out here will you? I need to screenwrite a short length film about love.” Micha whines coming next to Donghyuck now invading his space by holding his arm and wrapping it around. She was pressing on him so intensely he felt his cheeks turn a little different colour from the bronze tan. He looks around, people were watching them. Giving them judgement stares, as well as whispering and chattering about how close they were suddenly. It was no surprise that Donghyuck played tactics and non committing relationship issues plays a big part here to it. People always wondered if she’s dating him, or if he was dating her, and when you both claim no; people couldn’t believe it. As if Heterosexual friendships weren’t a normal thing to see.

He eventually gives in to her whining, he sighs out nodding a few times. “Okay okay, I’ll help out but I am in charge okay? You’re going to follow the three conditions I have for you.”

Micha let’s go off the arm wrapped and nods, she listens in carefully awaiting Donghyuck to announce. The boy leans closer whispering to your ears. “Everything we will do will be for your project, there won’t be any likeliness to it or enjoyment to it.”

“Okay…” Micha trails.

He cuts off. “- And it will be a very physical deal, Micha, have you ever gone on dates or I dunno… went to the movies with a guy you liked?”

The silence from the girl was a loud enough answer, at some point Donghyucks swore he could’ve heard crickets to the awkward silence. The girl looks down slightly embarrassed and shy. Movies? It wasn’t that simple for Micha, she was shy and not only shy she has strict parents. High school and dating? Not a good combination there. The Strict parents have always told her to finish education first and then date. Or at least leave the house and then do whatever you want, because they couldn’t care less to stop her when she was outta the house. Micha moved out but, University happened and dating whilst you’re a UNI student? God forbid. No one would survive it, that is also why Donghyuck is such a player. No one is looking for a relationship with him because he’s a goddamn theatre student. They’re busy 24/7 all year round with no breaks in between.

Hence why most girls and guys end with situationship and therefore that wasn’t the ideal situation for someone who has never dated ever, in their life. So Micha wasn’t very in tune with her life and dating life together. It weren’t aligning.

Donghyuck couldn’t help but chuckle a little, at her innocence rather. “Seriously no dates?” He asks again. Micha looks up glaring, she slaps his arm on the side. “Dude stop rubbing it in!”

“I can’t help it when you’re literally if Virgin Mary was alive to this day.” The boy exclaims in whispers hushing her voice down.

Micha look away rolling eyes at the littlest jokes he does to make fun of your situation, though she knows he means it well. Donghyuck softly smirks looking her up and down suddenly. “The third condition we have pet names. Couples have pet names for each other, has anyone have you one?”

“I haven’t touched a man yet along a women, so what do you think?” Micha blurts out in disbelief.

“I’ll take that as a no.” He leans closer grabbing a hold of her hand. “Well then do you agree, Micha, to this workplace fake relationship?”

The girl glances eye to eye with Donghyuck before nodding with a firm grasp hold she shakes his hand. “I don’t have much choice. You’re my only hope, Donghyuck.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! REBLOG THIS FIC AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE UPDATES.

[uglyshirtsinc]

Idea 5: Vanessa visits the graves of her victims and sees ghosts

An idea that I've seen exceedingly few fics try and cover is Vanessa encountering the ghosts of the people whom she (as Vanny) murdered after the 3-star ending.

I am unsure as to how one would make this situation happen. Maybe it could be a dream.

A scenario that I like most has to do with the idea that Vanessa visits the graves of the children she (no vanny) killed. After she was freed, she reported the location of the bodies so that they could recieve a proper burial. Vanessa knows that it isn't enough, she doesn't think that she will ever be able to do enough to atone for what she did to all of those children (it wasn't you, it was Vanny.) At the very least she tries to go and visit their graves once a week, making sure to bring flowers for them everytime. Vanessa doesn't say anything during the visits, what is there to say? "I'm sorry?" Yeah right, as if SHE is deserving of forgiveness...

I really like it because there are a lot of things you could potentially cover, including:

How would the ghosts react to seeing the freed Vanessa? Would the children be enraged? If so, what would they do?

Or would they be able to see that the person in front of them is not really the same as the one who murdered them, not mentally, at least? Maybe (relating back to idea 2) the children who were taught by her would be able to convince the other children of this.

How about the therapists? They would likely be more willing to listen, being adults trained in understanding psychological conditions.

One could discuss how Vanessa has been dealing with having 2 sets of childhood memories, a fake abusive one (put there by Glitchtrap for reasons of trying to make her more obedient, which ended up failing) and her true, standard, evidently normal one. (in this universe patient 46 and their tapes didn't exist, save for that one line about lying about childhood, just pretend it was in one of Vanessa's tapes)

And, of course, we can't forget Vanessa. What would she do? It is most likely that she would curl up into a ball and await the punishment that she thinks she deserves (she doesn’t). After all, it is HER fault, right? (No, it’s Vanny's.)

If you include Gregory in this encounter, he, being the "no fear" gremlin that he is, would probably try and start to defend his… uh… paternal guardian of unspecified rank in some way, either by trying to explain that Vanny is no more, or try and actually fight the ghosts.

As you can see, there are many ways that I think someone can make a mini story out of this concept.

Since we know for a fact peepaw Afton could see the ghosts of the kiddies he killed (Or they chose to present themselves, it's blurry lines at this point) due to the Springlock incident minigame, the idea that after the whole Vanny shebackle, Vanessa too can see the kids is so sad.

Gregory throwin' down with ghost children by throwing Ouija boards at them

But her swallowing her fear to confront her guilt and visit the graves, that's such a sad mental image.

[ev-bell-logbook]

M. Chekov // Acting Skills // Sem 1 // Week 3

17/10/24

We started this session with a discussion on Anton Chekov's 'Three Sisters.' I really struggled to understand this play to begin with. It felt as though nothing was really happening. It was also really difficult to keep up with each character as new ones would join the scene constantly. There was so many small story arcs that felt like that appeared out of nowhere. For example, Masha falls in love with Alexander Virshinin, but they're both already married. I cannot recall any moments that hint towards any chemistry between them. Furthermore Masha's husband is incredibly supportive and refers to Masha as a kind and generous and wonderful person throughout the play, but then when it's revealed to him that she's never been in love with him, he decides to stay with her. This might be reflective of the time period since divorce was frowned upon, but as a man you'd think it'd be less controversial for him to initiate it.

One of the warm-ups we did was one of Chekov's own. He called it Staccato/Legato. An actor has to repeat a movement in six different directions six different time. The point right, left, up, down, forward, back. They do it twice quickly, twice slowly, once quickly, once slowly. This warm-up is very meditative and similar to one I do myself (huh) to get myself into the right headspace to perform. I find that it clears your mind of any worries so you can just listen and react to the play as it unfolds, completely in character.

Onto the practical part of the session. We walked around the room but focused on using Chekov's techniques of the three-fold body and incorporation of images. Chekov believes that every body has three centres: thinking- clarity in the head, feeling- radiating warmth/light from the chest, willing- vitality and strength from the pelvis. Chekov wants actors to use these centres or a combination of them to help them create characters using images. An image can be something as simple of a candle in your chest, or ice in your head. They can also be as complex as vacuums in your fingers, or fish in your throat. Imagining images help the actor reflect what a character would do physically when performing. For example, a character who has razor blades in their eyes might struggle to make eye contact with their scene partners out of fear or hurting them, or they could have a really intense death glare when interacting with scene partners. Images that an actor creates are unique to the actor and rarely interpreted in the same way. To help us practice this we some portraits were places around the room. We had to look at the portrait, think of an image, think of a centre and walk around the space interacting with our classmates. My favourite character was based on a portrait of a dirty man wearing an apron holding a shovel. I chose a bag of dirt in his pelvis. He slumped around the room grunting at people.

Next we looked at Chekov's archetypal gesture. They are:

Push

Pull

Reach

Lift

Throw

Embrace

Wring

Penetrate

Smash

Each move has to be really felt in order to mean something. We worked on combining some lines from three sisters to archetypal gestures. I chose one of Natalya's lines with an embrace, but to make it feel more in line with her character is was a slow and sly embrace, like she was faking being sorry for herself in order to manipulate those in the scene with her.

[mintmatcha]

Mint, if I may ask would up be so kind as to give us a sliver, nay a crumb, of accidental pussy slayer armin? 🥹

sdghjakslfgfhkfg yeah <3 (college AU ofc)

The only reprieve from the thrum of the party is the porch, where you can barely hear the cheers and jeers of the boys inside. Compared to the humid, sticky heat of too many bodies crammed into a tiny house, the summer's night is almost chilly; you hug yourself close and feel the goosebumps that have formed.

The screen door swings open and you almost cheer, only to catch yourself when you realize it isn't Jean. This man is shorter, fine blonde locks pushed back and out of his eyes. He doesn't seen to even notice you at first, flicking the bottom of a bright red pack of cigarettes absentmindedly as he stares into the night's sky. It's strangely endearing, how he smiles to himself as he leans over the balcony and sighs. It's... strangely innocent for a frat bro- so strange that you can't help but laugh. When you do, he jumps, fumbling the carton into the yard below.

"Hey!" the blonde looks around, then furrows his brow in good-natured confusion, "Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was out here."

You shrug. He looks familiar, but you just can't place from where. "Just me."

"You're just... chilling out here? Is everthing okay?" he rubs the back of his neck, eyes darting to the door, "Did your friends leave you or something? I can call you an uber if you're alone-"

"No, no, I'm good! I just-" you clear your throat, unsure of how to explain your predicament. "Overwhelmed, I guess."

"Oh, yeah, it can be a lot in there. It'll die down soon though." Armin laughs as he pulls up one of the Adirondack chairs, flopping back against the sturdy frame. You suddenly remember where you know him from; 8am Biochemistry. He sits in the front row, same iced coffee in hand every day,, and watches the professor with the same intent and focus as he looks at you, "Wanna talk about it?"

Usually, you roll your eyes when guys ask you to 'talk' at parties. There's been countless nights where someone thought they could pretend to listen to your conversation, nod along with fake interest, and then get into your pants.

But the way Armin pats the chair's arm, inviting you in with a genuine smile, makes you lower your guard. Despite experience telling you not to, you sit on the chair's arm. Your calves brush against his knees for a moment before you pull away, but he doesn't follow.

"The guy that invited me here kind of ditched me." you sigh, picking at the front on your dress, "He hasn't even talked to me all night. I shouldn't be upset because we're just friends but-"

Armin nods slowly as you speak, those surprisingly bright blue eyes never leaving yours. He puts a hand on your knee, patting it softly, comfortingly. "You feel kind of forgotten?"

"I feel stupid!" you throw your hands into the air with a groan and your voice echoes across the empty yard, "Stupid and ugly and used because Jean's been hanging off that stupid freshman all night- "

"Jean?" Armin suddenly throws a hand over his mouth, but you catch his smirk.

"What?" you ask. Armin just shakes his head. biting his lip to hold back his laughter, "Are you laughing at me? What?"

"I'm sorry, I know you're being super vulnerable with me right now, it's just... I know exactly who you're talking about." Armin squeezes your knee playfully, smiling ear to ear. His cheeks dimple when he talks, and his nose wiggles when he laughs, "Jean's really dumb if he chose her over you."

The compliment is over the top, but it makes your cheeks burn all the same.

"You're just saying that to be nice." you snap.

"I can be nice without lying; you're much prettier. That's a fact. Definitely smarter too." Armin says it so evenly that you almost believe him, "You always ask the best questions in biochem."

"Asking questions means I'm dumb."

"Asking questions means you're smart enough to know what you don't know." Armin's hand hasn't moved. It's still that respectful height, no wandering. "Besides, you're my favorite part of that stupid class."

You slide forward, slowly moving yourself on to Armin's lap. His hands find your waist, pulling you in firmly, holding you as close as his can. "We've never even talked, Armin."

"Only because talking to pretty girls makes me nervous." he squeezes you again, thumbs digging in right above your hip bone. He finally breaks eye contact, eyes flicking to your lips for just a moment before looking up through his eye lasts once again.

You adjust in his lap again, "You're talking to me now."

"Beer makes me bold, I guess."

He leans in, nose pressed against your cheek, breath tickling your lips. He waits there, never pushing forward, never rushing. You think that, if you let him, he'd stay there indefinitely, savoring the almost kiss.

Savor. That's the perfect word. He drinks you in like every moment is worth cherishing, like every word you say is gospel and every inch of your body is holy.

For the first time all night, you feel seen.

You throw your arms around his shoulders and impatiently pull him that final inch, slotting your mouths together in a surprisingly searing kiss. Armin almost recoils in surprise, breaking the kiss for a split second before pressing back in. He hums into your skin, tongue sparing no time before dipping into your mouth.

For a gentleman, he sure is sloppy. Spit glazes your lower lip when you pull away, connecting both of you for a flash of a second.

"Hey," you clear your throat "On second thought, I do want you to call that uber."

"Did I do something wrong?" Armin immediately pulls his hands away, from where they have wandered, "I'm so sorry, I should have asked first, I totally didn't-"

You silence him with another kiss. "I was hoping you'd ride with me."

Even as Armin scrambles for his phone, he protests, "We have class at 8am!"

"Don't worry- I'll make sure we make it on time."

[yandere-sins]

Stares

Horrortober Day 5: Disturbance “Nothing can interrupt us now.”

I will admit I wrote this one way too late into the night. I should go to sleep yikes :’D Enjoy!

Warnings: Yandere, Body Horror, Kidnapping, Molestation, Harrassment, Sexual Innuendos/Actions Characters: Sukuna x Reader

It was rare to see the King of Curses calm and even a little approachable.

Not that you liked seeing him at all, but you preferred it this way than any other. Ever so often, he peeked out of Itadori Yuji’s face, taunting you, belittling his host. However, you were just glad to get through with your work that day, teaching the boy the necessary theory he had to learn. You’d be gone before you had to deal with the host or the curse inside of him, just like every day. Routine, that’s what Nanami called it. Routine would benefit all of you, but you still hadn’t come around to like what you were forced to do.

Morally, it was wrong to call the boy a curse. He ate something cursed, and now he was beyond screwed, but still… Whenever you saw him, pure survival instinct ran through your veins. You wanted to defeat him, end this miserable life, but you weren’t allowed. Sorcerers weren’t supposed to teach curses, just kill. But you were torn between your orders and duty, looking at what was sitting in front of you.

Asking other sorcerers for their opinion on the matter, and you were faced with the same responses. The same struggle and conflict you were facing, except, maybe, Gojo, who seemed to be unbothered by what he dragged into your holy halls. However, the most unnerving thing that came up in conversation was how often Sukuna showed himself in your class… but not in the others. Given, they did see the casual third or fourth eye, or one mouth too many. Still, even if the others were unnerved, they chose to ignore, while you were the only one to actually have spoken to the king—though it was no honor.

“Brat, the teacher’s staring.” Instantly, Yuji’s attention shifted to the extra mouth on his cheek and then to you, expecting you to say something. You quickly caught your composure, not having realized you’ve been staring - probably in disgust - at him, almost feeling bad. Clearing your throat, you picked up your book again, shaking your head in denial before continuing to monotonously read the text inside of it out loud. Sorcerer history hadn’t been your favorite subject either, but you were stuck with it, unfortunately. Yuji was diligent enough, but even while you read, you couldn’t get your mind off the threat in front of you.

Especially not when long, clawed fingers gripped your book by the spine, lowering it with surprising force.

“No, you’ve been staring. There’s no denying it, Sorcerer, spit it out,” Sukuna grinned at you cheekily, having temporarily taken over your real student.

“I was trying not to vomit looking at you,” you snarled back, slapping his hand away that he retracted in fake hurt. “Bad liar,” he called you before the marks suddenly faded, Yuji going back to being himself.

“Ah, sorry about that,” he muttered apologetically like so many times before. And you sighed, assuring him it wasn’t his fault.

»»————————

It wasn’t his fault either when Sukuna cornered you in one of the hallways around the school. Being cornered by strong two arms did not give you the butterflies that all these novels always tried to sell. Granted, you flinched pretty hard, but once you were face to face with him, your anger far outweighed your fear. He was scary, no question asked. Sukuna could destroy you with a flick of his finger. But somehow, naively so, you didn’t believe he would. Something about ‘he could have, but he hasn’t’ made you bold apparently. Stupidly so.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you hissed, and he rolled his eyes. Yuji’s body looked stupidly wasted on him, the boy being such a ray of sunshine in contrast to his evil counterpart. Sukuna didn’t become him. His attitude didn’t.

“You’ve been staring at me,” he repeated. Why was the topic so important to him?

“So what? What is it to you?” you returned snidely. Lips curling into a grin, you felt like you had actually humored him. Not the direction you wanted to go with the King. “Well, I wanted a good look at you…” he mumbled, his eyes driving from the shirt on your collarbones to the shoes you were wearing slowly, noticeably, and… lusty.

“...too,” he finished his sentence before licking his lips.

“Disgusting,” you whispered dryly, staring at him perturbed, and Sukuna chuckled at your obvious rejection.

“Well, I have what I wanted.”

Before you could repeat, he disappeared, leaving behind a slumping student of yours, and you cursed the King of Curses quietly, dropping everything to had in your arms to support Yuji. “Asshole,” you mumbled, and for a brief moment, you thought you heard him chuckle again, but you couldn’t be sure.

»»————————

It was him. He was planning something all along, and you knew it.

But no one could see it since this plan almost exclusively involved you.

“Shrivel and die,” you told him through gritted teeth, pushing at his chest as hard as you could. Sukuna was undeterred, pressing you against the old chalkboard and nibbling on your earlobe. Why did no one believe you when you swore up and down that he wasn’t just a quiet bystander? That he indeed was trying to do something—or someone?

“I do love a filthy mouth,” he sighed, making you want to throw up just from the implications alone. Even with your elbow between you, there was no movement. The other sorcerers had told you about Yuji’s strength, but you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it. Apparently, however, you couldn’t, and it was infuriating. While Sukuna was doing as he pleased, you decided on a different approach, opening your mouth to scream.

Finally, it caused some reaction in him, his head recoiling at the jarring sound, but before long, your lips were captured with his, a fight breaking out between your mouths. He was trying to silence you efficiently with his tongue in your throat, the mere thought of kissing a student repulsing you, and you were biting at his lips which didn’t seem to bother Sukuna at all.

“Someone will come,” you reminded him fiercely as he broke away to give you some air.

“Silly,” he only commented before kissing you again. You were hammering at his chest, trying to make your disapproval evident, but it was to no avail. Sukuna wouldn’t budge. Only when he, mercifully, allowed another breath, you screamed again, using your palms to defend from his face closing in to shut you up. The weight of his body was pressing you into the wall painfully, but realizing your powers simply wouldn’t show no matter how hard you tried was even worse. Did he have some kind of ability that stole your energy from you? Was it fear that blocked you from using it? Were you afraid?

You were. 

It was indeed silly, even if it was painful to agree with Sukuna. You never feared for your life, taking every day and mission as it came. But you were scared now because of the monster in front of you. You had been right: you should have killed him when you could. Stupid! Absolutely stupid to keep around!

Even you understood that it wasn’t death you feared. You feared Sukuna’s presence and the effects it had on you. How defenseless you were suddenly and how, even though he always disappeared in the end after annoying you, he just didn’t seem to let go of you now. 

“Scream some more,” he taunted, and you weren’t going to object. Immediately, you put up the fight again, feeling your lungs clench when you robbed them of all the air to get some help. But nothing happened. “I like it when they struggle,” Sukuna laughed, crazy, madly, victoriously. As if he won a war you didn’t know about.

“Come, open your eyes! Look where you are!” he encouraged you, grinning from ear to ear. Confused, you looked around, seeing the same old classroom that you always had when teaching Yuji. The sight slowly began to shift, fog collecting at your feet and the walls moving unnaturally under your gaze. You’ve been scared before, but it was nothing compared to what you felt as everything shifted. 

You hadn’t realized it. 

Not for one moment did you know he activated his domain, something no one had been able to explore until now. It was different from what you expected, much more vast and deadly. But you also saw the remainders of the classroom, and you wondered how much of it was taking up the actual reality. Horrified, you looked around, now knowing your screams wouldn’t echo for no one but you two here. You always thought you were a decent sorcerer but maybe… maybe you were nothing at all. At least not in the eyes of Sukuna.

“Finally,” Sukuna sighed, satisfied and seemingly exhausted by effort you didn’t know he was making. “Nothing can interrupt us now. I just needed you to lower your guard.”

“You…” Your mumble was met with deafening silence. Not even Sukuna’s breathing made a sound in this space, and you immediately felt claustrophobic in the pitch black that encased the realm. His realm.

“I was nice. I waited. Those… manga said it was proper in these times, though, I don’t care for them. But you kept staring at me as if you were trying to kill me. Do you know how hard it was to wait? A king shouldn’t have to wait-no. I shouldn’t have to wait for you when you are coming on to me.”

Blinking a few times, you looked back at him. Perhaps, for the first time, you were truly meeting his gaze, always finding a reason to not look at him directly before. But not anymore. Now you were indeed looking at him, not remembering those times he said you stared when this was the first and only time you really saw him. “It’s been too long that I had company. How nice of you to offer yourself up to me~”

“I never did-” you tried to argue, but you were swept into another kiss, flailing in his arms as you feared falling. Endlessly. You could no longer discern where the realm started and ended. “You’re mine now,” he growled, unhinged.

“I will devour you, Looker. It’s punishment for not welcoming me sooner. There’s a lot to make up for.”

You’ve never seen Sukuna calm before. Because if what you had witnessed was what you called calm, it had been because he was waiting for the right moment. The right moment to pounce, and to your misery, it was now. Stares could kill, people said. It was true, you found out, as you killed yourself with it by making the King of Curses recognize you. Though, you wished you were dead.

You merely killed your freedom with your actions, as there was no way Sukuna would let you have that ever again after you piqued his interest unwillingly.

[lunar-wandering]

petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

-

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

-

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

-

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

-

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

-

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

-

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

-

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

-

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

-

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

-

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

-

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

-

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

-

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

-

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

-

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

-

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

-

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

-

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

-

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

-

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

-

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

-

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

-

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

-

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

-

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

-

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

-

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

-

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

-

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

-

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

-

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

-

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

[dienamights]

Not Your Best Man | D.Kaminari

✎ Denki Kaminari was resentful of all the things Katsuki Bakugou has, the high hero ranks, the fame despite his demeaning behavior, his intelligence, and most importantly, you.

✎ Protagonists: Denki Kaminari x Fem!Reader

✎ Word count: 5.2K

✎ Category: Smut MDNI, angst

✎ Caution(!): Smut MDNI, swearing, denki is jealous, bakuhoe is an asshole, mommy kink, loss of control of quirk during sex, degradation, praise, oral (male!receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm denial to a certain point, mention of puking, doing denki dirty in so many ways and I’m sorry but I’m also… not sorry.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s well! I’m here with @forrest-fern’s Seven Deadly Sins server Collab! I snatched Denki and chose Envy! I wasn’t able to get bakugou but you know damn well I’m squeezing his ass in there lmao (peep the banner you can see the boom boom boy) (shut up im not late shush)

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

Her hair is piled up and back, showing more of her delicate yet strong features. Skin so flawless his hands feel bound when he wants to touch it, afraid of staining it with his fingertips, not deeming himself worthy to taint it. Eyes brought out beautifully with makeup products she knew how to work to make her look even more gorgeous than she already is. Lips perfectly coated in lipstick, always formed in the littlest smile, and he feels compelled to kiss the product off of them.

The dress is perfect, it sits on her body as if it has been made just for her. Its fabric folds hugging her figure, following her curves. It’s color is gorgeous against her skin with long sleeves that cover her arms, the backless dress shows skin that begs him, taunts him to touch it and to guide her along with him. The collar exposes enough shoulders that teases him to bite and mark up. It's tight skirt pooled till the floor with a slit up to her left thigh. She looks stunning and he couldn't stop but linger his eyes on her.

She looks as though she is an angel, in the form of the most beautiful girl on earth. Mesmerising eyes, so crystal clear that he could see rivers, oceans, the whole world through them. No flower, no goddess, not even Aphrodite could ever compare to her beauty. She has the body of a dancer, lithe, supple and oh so beautiful. With every step she takes, it looks as though she’s floating, and Denki only became more convinced that he had been around an angel for the majority of his life and he -regretfully- only was able to realize it a bit too late.

Regretfully, because she wasn’t his, isn’t his, will never be his. Not the measly unimportant groomsman. No, she is the best man’s, Katsuki Bakugou’s, meant to be his forever. 

Bakugou’s BakugousBakugousBakugous… Dammit

“I do.” 

An adorable little boy dressed in a black tuxedo walks up and hands Kirishima a ring. He slips it on Mina's finger. The pastor smiles and turns to Mina. She wears a strapless wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads sewn on her gown. She wears a two-tier veil, with a matching crystal head-piece. She holds a French rose silk bouquet. Kirishima is stunning. He wears a black, single-breasted, satin tuxedo with a white-wing collar shirt.

The pastor repeats the question and receives the same reply. You watch her take his ring from a small girl dressed in pink and place it on his finger. "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." 

"You may now kiss your bride." He does so, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers. The pastor holds up his hands, bringing the cheering crowd to their feet.

Kirishima and Mina leave the gazebo, arms linked, with huge smiles on their faces. The best man, maid of honor, and the groomsmen and bridesmaids follow suit, falling in behind them. They stop near the end of the walk, forming the start of the receiving line. 

The family and guests file down, pausing for hugs and kisses and congratulating the young couple. Mina then turns around and throws her bouquet of flowers behind her. The women collide with each other as they try to catch it. 

She cheers loud when the bouquet falls in your hands, and you giggle and wave it around, the women’s disappointed groans muffled in your ears when you catch the beautiful vermillions of your partner, oblivious to the golden specks that have been eyeing your every move since you stepped foot into the wedding.

“You could’ve been more obvious about wantin’ me to put a ring on your finger.” Katsuki chuckles against your ear, standing behind you with his hands on your hips, both of you looking at the newlyweds as they enter the reception with everyone awwing at them as they did their first dance as husband and wife.

The sun has set long ago, the full moon hanging and illuminating the area beautifully, the fairy lights and lamps circling the area, making the happy couple look absolutely glowing, and you smile at the scene from outside the dance floor.

“They fell in my hands ‘Suki.” you giggle, lacing your fingers between his, “Besides, you already did, didn’t you?” 

“Hmm,” his breath tickles your ear, fingers twisting your engagement ring around your ring finger, “was forced to, after all that whinin’ ‘bout wantin’ to settle down and not knowin’ when we’ll see each other when we’re goin’ on missions, and cherishin’ the lives-” he fakes a snore and rests his full weight on your back, both of you laughing as you tip forward and he catches you in time, placing his hand on your waist again and swaying with you as you see your friends happier than they ever were.

You look perfect, standing there holding each other, absolutely and utterly disgusting. Denki stares at you, fire spreading in his abdominal, his lungs constricting with every breath he takes the longer he looks at you. Swaying together, Katsuki’s lips pressing against your temple and you letting out the most beautiful laugh, Denki can’t help but clench the front of his shirt at the sight, wishing, hoping for nothing more than to be in his shoes, being the one lucky enough to be able to hold you that close, the one that has the privilege to hear your laugh, the one to make you laugh.

“Hey Denki,” He is snapped back to reality when Kirishima stands in front of him, blocking his view from the flawless couple. “H-hey Eiji! Congratulations bro, you’re finally a married man!” They hug, Denki’s eyes never leaving you while Katsuki twirls you to face him and peppers kisses across your face. “Thanks man! Hey sorry, could you get Bakugou for me real quick, we’re taking a few pictures with the best man and the maid of honor.”

“Right away, man of the hour.” 

Oh God, oh God, he isn’t ready to face you yet. You look too pretty, he doesn’t feel worthy to be in your presence, driven to bow down and ask for forgiveness for even breathing the same as yours. And yet, you smile upon his arrival, even letting go of Bakugou’s hand to wave him over, and you’re blessing him with your smile, giggles sounding like the singing of angels when he waves back excitedly.

“Hi!” you beam up at him the minute he’s close enough to be graced with your voice, “Where have you been, it’s like you were avoiding me all this time,” you pout for a second and Denki could swear he felt his heart skip multiple beats when your lips wobble and a smile makes it way back up at him.

“H-hey, ummm, Baku- uh.” he laughs at himself, trying to collect whatever dignity he has left. “Uh, Eiji is lookin’ for ya bro, something about a photoshoot with the maid of honor?” The groan Bakugou lets out is enough of a confirmation.

“Fuckin’ pain in my fuckin’ ass bitch” he grumbles, pressing his lips against your temple again, promising to come back after the ‘Motherfuckin’ bitch shoot’ is done. You only reply by squeezing his arm, a silent reassurance that you’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.

It's so revolting, the way he swears up and down, having the filthiest mouth with his words, not even respecting the beautiful goddess that tries to calm his nasty self down, he should be more considerate of you and your feelings, God he loathes the way he treats you. The way he mistreats you. 

You deserve to be treated so much better than that, the way Denki would, he’d downright kiss the ground you walk on, remind you every day that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, the best goddamn thing to ever grace this earth.

Okay, you’re staring. God, has she been staring too? Denki, people always say you never shut up, use it to your advantage for once in your life.

Denki extends his arm to you, curses under his breath, wipes his sweaty palm against his pant leg before extending it again. "Would you like to dance?" You raise your eyebrows. "Would you like to dance?"

"Well, dancing is what a charming gentleman like myself would do.” He beames at the chuckle you let out. “Besides, you're beautiful and I want to show you off.” He pauses. “You know, while Bakugou is busy with his best man duties and all."

You smile, your pretty lips letting out a little giggle at his posture as he starts wiggling his fingers persuasively, and shake your head. "You know what? Yeah, I would like to dance."

Arm-in-arm, you and Denki head into the dance floor and step onto the wooden ground. You felt him move easily with you, agile and confident with the music as he takes the lead. His hands slowly yet surely reach to your lower back, but you shrug it off.

"Ah, expect tango music after this," he says. Eyes gleaming as they shift over to the DJ that nods in acknowledgement to him. He frowns when he sees your averted face, shifting your eyes away from his, observing, searching for him, your fiance, the person he wishes he could be, someone he could never be.

Denki trips over his words in an effort to regain your attention, “A-anyway, uh, um. Hey! Did you know that uh, t-tango is banned in other places of the world?" you raise your eyebrows. 

“Is it?”

 “Yeah, wanna know why?” 

“Didn’t expect you to know honestly.” He smiles as you laugh lightly, but something tugs at his heartstrings, its because you think of him as nothing but stupid brainless dunce face, depsite him entering and graduating one of the best hero courses in all of Japan, alongside you of all people, despite his hero work, the people he saves, the villains he captures, fuck. 

You don’t miss the way his face falls after your remark, an almost sour expression passing through before he clears his throat and looks behind your shoulder at basically nothing. “S-so,” you start, “Why was it banned?”

The blond’s eyes flicker over to you and soften at the way you’re cocking your head and smiling at him, despite him getting upset with you. What is he doing? He’s experiencing something straight out of his fantasies, having you pressed so close to him, dancing with him and smiling at him. No one else. 

“Oh, okay okay, so. It was considered the dance of the low-lifes at the worst places of society when it first emerged, and so the church banned it, because they said it had the music of the “immoral” factions of society”

“Oh? Why’s that.”

“It was considered an oversexualized dance. Portraying the sin and seduction of the Devil. It represents the Devil's nostalgia, his unrequited aspirations, loneliness, rejection, and misery. The longing of someone who will never fit in, who has never had love nor passion.” He takes a deep breath.  

“It's like sex, except with clothes on.”

 In a failed attempt to seduce you, he stumbles and steps on your heels. Earning a weak yelp from you as you back up from him.

It's okay, it's okay, he can fix this. Oh God the music stopped. Okay he gets to dance tango with you now and press you even more against him and hold you even closer, okay. God, are his hands always this sweaty?

The silence that follows the stopping of the music makes him panic, you’re so close, he just needs to reach out and hold you against him again. Press your tender body against his, let him pretend you’re his, pretend that he’s lucky enough to take you home with him. Help you take off your dress, press kisses against the curves of your body, make love to you all night.

Put all of that is cut short when he feels a daunting presence behind him, and he doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is. Because the way your face lights up at that presence is enough to stop his blood from pumping, enough for him to see only red, for him to dig his nails into the palm of his hands until he feels it piercing his skin.

“Hey,” the taunting voice of Katsuki Bakugou reminds him how beneath him he really is. “Yer havin fun with my girl.” it wasn’t a question. Despite that, in a desperate attempt to feel your touch one more time before you’re swept away by your big strong hero, that he would never be able to match to.

With trembling fingers, Denki grasps your hand and brings your knuckles close to his lips, eyes boring into each other while he kisses them, and you only grin in appreciation at his manners, doing the most adorable courtesy he has ever seen in his life, almost forgetting the looming presence of his former classmate.

Bakugou moves around Denki to reach you, and Kaminari knows at this point all hope is lost for you to dance with him, or better yet, have any interaction with him again for the entirety of the night. Katsuki held your hand with surprising firmness, caramel scent wafting through as you feel how sweaty his hands really are. 

“Are you warm?” You mumble, lacing your fingers through his when his reaction is to pull his hands away to wipe them at his pants. 

“No.” It's firm and it's rough, yet it isn’t directed at you. It’s directed to the other blond that surprisingly still hasn’t backed down and is still standing straight, eyeing how you two act as a couple, how he wishes you would hold his hand, ask him if he was warm, embrace all his insecurities.

As your fiance leads you back to the center of the dance floor. Hand starting at your waist but quickly slipping to grab a handful of your ass, chuckling when you squeal and slap his chest. Something wicked gleams in his eyes when the first tune of the violin starts playing, drifting with the harmony of the accordion.

“You and I both know that my knowledge of tango is as much as my knowledge for knitting, that’s right, nonexistent.”

“You know my body, don’t you?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Follow my lead, let your body do the talking.”

“You’re crazy.” yet you still laugh, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he pulls you impossibly close to him, raveling in the feeling of your chest pressed to his. You’re rolling your eyes a little at the way his smirk stretches when he pinches your butt, but you instantly shiver when he places his warm calloused hand within the cutout of your dress on your lower back, skin to skin. And just like your body is made to be molded against his, you place your arm over his shoulder while the other is engulfed in his. 

He steps close, too close, scandalously close. Pressing his cheek against your temple and only then meeting the eyes of Denki, that's when his smile drops, every playful act with you is gone. His magma filled eyes staring into the soul of the electrical hero.

Mine MineMineMine

Neither were stupid, Katsuki knows what Denki is doing, and Denki is well aware of Katsuki’s ability to piece shit together.

Denki is left lonesomely standing by the DJ, watching the way you two dance, the way Bakugou steps forward in your space and you stepping back to accommodate him. He seethes in his stance as you two rock on your feet, the way Bakugou handles your body with firmness and strength, yet softly watching you when you giggle at the way he spins your body effortlessly. Kaminari sees the way you let yourself be led, the way you trust Bakugou to handle you, hold you, care for you, in ways he could only hope for you to see him.

You are perfectly synchronized, almost fluid like, an extension of each other, like you had done this a million times before, practised day and night to perfect it. Bakugou takes his time twirling you across the room, seductively slow. Thighs brushing against each other with every stupid turn.

His body whispering commands to yours, daring it to misbehave, you step and lean and sway, every movement perfect and precise, like an intricate choreography that you have never learned, but your bodies remembering them. He dances with you the way he has sex—with exquisite control, infinite patience, and aggressive moves.

Huh, that's what Denki must have meant.

At that moment, your eyes catch him standing outside the dance floor, and you almost don’t recognize the man alone, filled by ugly emotions they couldn’t help but spill and show on his expression. Sour and hateful and just plain cruel looking.

Katsuki’s mouth curves in a lazy smile at how your brows furrow, spinning you in a vigorous turn so he’s the one facing him instead. You aren’t dense, you feel the eyes on you, well aware who they belong to as they burn through your back. He lowers his head, forcing you to look back up at him, your lips grazing against his, too close.

“Yer puttin’ on a show for your boy?” 

“A show- no you ass, weren’t you the one that wanted to dance?” you try to lean away to scold him -yes, middance- but the blond lowers further, until you think he’s trying to get you to shut up by kissing you. Suddenly he’s dipping you low, his face stays only a few inches away from yours, your back arching beautifully.

A static sound dwells on you, followed by the buzzing of electricity. The lights flicker and you instinctively grab at Katsuki, tightening your hold against his bicep, your eyes searching his when he doesn’t lift you back up, only to find him not even looking at you.

His fingers are tingling, tips wiggling as they shoot little sparks at the sight in front of him, his golden eyes illuminating in the momentary darkness as they clash with the magma filled rubies, challenging him, taunting him, mocking him.

MineMineMine

And when Denki accidentally short circuits the entire DJ booth, the dance hall instantly quiets, a blanket of silence weighing them down and daring someone to break it. And yet, Bakugou has other plans, of course.

Sneakily, he slides his hand down from your back to your knee, firmly grabbing your leg as his eyes meet yours before lifting it to his hip. Fingers slipping under your dress and grazing your upper thighs, sending goosebumps racing across your skin, not having the courage to break eye contact until you hear the gasp of a few of the attendees. Only then does he close the gap between to press his lips against yours, the little audience you collected clapping and cheering you along.

The whistling and cheering is loud enough for you to miss the sound of Denki’s fist slam against the table and the sobs wrecking him as he drags his feet away from the scene. 

BakugousBakugousBakugous

Sero grunts as he struggles to push the hotel room door open with Denki leaning his full weight on him. It takes him a couple of tries to finally get the drunk man on the bed, slapping his hands away as Denki tries to grab at and kiss the man. 

“C’moooon, Hantaaaaa, s’not like you don’ wanna, look atchu, you’re takin’ off m’clothes but you don’ wanna kiss me?”

“You ass, I’m taking off your shoes because you stepped in your own vomit.” 

The man gags, chugging the shoes in the trash can and helping his friend ease off of his suit jacket. “Yer a good man Hanta, say, you wanna be m’best man?” Sero laughs, shaking his head as he tries to help him lay on his stomach, “y’know, when I marry y/n.” 

The silence that follows is deafening, Sero not having the heart to talk when he catches the sound of Denki sniffing and burying his head in his pillow.

“I- “

“Jus’ leave me alone, Sero.”

And he does, the only confirmation of his solitude is the echoing click of the door’s lock as Sero leaves Denki to brew in his own self loathing.

It takes Denki a few minutes to collect himself, the nausea forcing him to take off his shirt and pants, lying down on his back to feel the cool air on his chest. He doesn’t realize he has his eyes closed until he snaps them open when he hears his door click close.

There you are, radiating, mesmerizing, you’re practically glowing, standing there by his door, adorned by your… nightgown? 

God, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room, please don’t say you’re in the wrong room.

“You sure you’re in the right room y/n?”

You don’t answer, you just simply, untie your robe. And Denki’s eyes practically bulge out when the silk robe slips right off of your shoulder and drops in a pile on the floor by your feet. He can’t look you in the eyes, he’s looking at every inch of exposed skin he can muster, committing every curve, every dip, every contour, every fucking thing to memory.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” that’s when he looks back up at your eyes -after shamelessly staring at your peaking nipples for a second too long - blinking twice at your words. He sits up with a struggle, “W-wait, what about Bakugou?”

“What about him?”

And honestly, that alone almost made him bust a nut.

You’re pushing at his chest until he lays back down, throwing your leg over his figure and straddling him. Instantly, he feels your warmth pressing against his strained length and his body shivers at the thumbing against it. 

“You’re so good to me Denki,” you breathe, fingers combing through his hair before you take a fistful of it and lightly tug, rolling your hips against his and relishing in the whines he lets out, slender fingers reaching for your thighs and grabbing handfuls, his eyes begging for you to do it again, and when you do, he throws his head back and moans.

“You treat me so well,” you pout, nails tracing his sweaty flushed chest, peppering kisses along it, moving up until you reach his ear, biting at it and giggling when he ruts his hips up against you. Feeling your slick dampen the front of his boxers as his leaky cock does the same. “So pretty for me” he whines again, eyes blown out and chest heaving at the feeling of being kissed by you, held by you, touched by you, hell, looked at by you.

“Fuck, again, ah- d-don’t stop, pleaseplease-”

“Use your words baby, wadda you want?” he thrashes against the bed when you grind your hips against his again, the tips of his fingers buzzing and twitching when you’re lowering yourself to press your chest against his face. 

“Fuck, wanna feel your pretty pussy, feel you squeeze my cock, please, just -ah, put it in.” it's all muffled from the spit collecting on tongue and the way he’s smothered by your tits but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way.

His body refuses to move as you scoot lower, straddling his thigh and grinding your hips against it, wickedly smiling as he whines ‘nonono’ when you do, “m-my cock, my cock, please stop teasin’.” the tip of your finger traces the elastic of his boxers, giggling at the way his body jerks up and at the gasp he lets out when you snap it against his hip. Before gliding your finger against his strained cock, enjoying the way it twitches under your touch, feeling it harden against you.

You coo at him as you pull off his boxers, when you see that there is no initiation from him to move. The sight of his pretty cock with its fiery head welcoming you and you can’t help but grab at it. “Pretty boy all needy for me, hmm?” You give it a lick from the base to the tip, sucking on the head of his cock and feeling it twitch inside of your mouth, hollowing out your cheek and looking up to see the way his face flushes, his body illuminating with the crackling of the thunders around him, twitching his body before he breathes out a few times to calm himself down.

How is he so lucky? How is he blessed with having your lips wrapped around his cock, just looking at you is tightening a knot in his belly, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes in an effort to prolong his orgasm to feel even more of you.

He doesn't open his eyes until he feels a looming shadow on him, and that's when he catches sight of you again, the moon hitting your face, your glistening precum-covered lips smiling down at him.

“Want me to take care of you?” You tease, chuckling breathlessly as Denki feels your pussy on his cock, your slick covering it as you roll your hips and feel your pussy gush at the way his body shivers in ecstasy at your touch. “Yes! Please mommy ye-”

“Mommy?” Did he just say it out loud? “No, ah- fuck, no-no I didn’t say that I-” you don’t even let him talk, gyrating your hips again, covering his dick with your slick, without having your walls flutter around him just yet.

It takes a few teasing grinds of you against him to have him sobbing at this point, “m-mommy please just please! I wanna, ah” he thrashes when the tip of his leaky cock catches your clit, the lightnings he’s producing passing by his eyes and obscuring his blurry vision for a while, before he’s blessed with the sight of you beautifully arched on top of him. “In, in, wanna feel the pretty pussy, please please lemme feel the pretty pussy.” it's just meaningless babbling at this point, anything to get your walls tightening around his cock, all sensitive from being rubbed against you for god knows how long.

And when his head catches your cunt, he all but cries out at the way it clenches at the head, bucking his hips up to feel more of you. Wanting you to swallow him whole, take him all the way in. “Y’gonna just fuck into my pussy like that, hmm? Is that how you’re treatin’ mommy now?” “n-no! Ah, m’sorry pleaseplease, I just, you feel s’good, you’re s’tight aaah, wanna feel more, please I want more more more,” and he does. So, without a warning, you drop your hips and impale yourself on his cock, and for fuck’s sake all of what Denki saw what white for a few seconds, he could’ve sworn he heard a few angels singing, even.

“That what you want, hmm? Want her to take care of her pretty boy?” you pout mockingly, bouncing yourself on his lap as he tries to grab hold of your hips to guide you, but the way you’re jerking his body has his head dizzy and his sight swimming, the low buzzing of his quirk muffled by the wet slaps of your skin against his, your ass clapping against his thighs and he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget that sound, and he just settles for letting you please yourself with his cock, because if you’re gonna use him as a fucking dildo, then he wouldn’t fucking have it any other way.

Weakly snapping his hips upwards with the drops of your hips, Denki’s leg shake and it takes a few more times for his cock to fully seath itself in your tight walls for him to let go, feeling your pussy squeeze his cock for all his worth as your pants turn into whines, suddenly they’re very afar, almost like you’re underwater. Yet he’s the one feeling like his lungs are constricted when he hears the name you’re calling, and it isn’t his. “Ka- ahh- suki…”

Only then does Denki realize that you aren’t in his room, your discarded rope isn’t thrown haphazardly on the floor by the door, your slick isn’t covering his thigh or coating his dick, and the worst of all, your pussy isn’t the one that has been squeezing his cock, oh no.

It was his hand, those slender fingers wrapping around his softening cock, smeared with his cum. He lifts his hand in horror, disgust and shame eating him up, especially when his ears perk up at your sound.

“Fuck, Katsu- yesyesyes, right there, yes!” Whatever nausea he felt subsiding is coming back tenfold, burning his throat as he slaps his hand over his mouth, anything to stop himself from puking on himself.

“Ha, that what you want? Getting dicked down after havin’ fun with that fuckin’ dunce face.” The wet sounds of Bakugou’s hips slapping yours is almost making his ears bleed. “Havin’ that prick touchin’ ya like that. Fuckin’ slut, all of that to rile me up so I can fuck that tight lil pussy, that what you want?”

Denki doesn’t know what’s the last nail on the coffin, the absolute filth being spewed to you, tainting your angelic ears, that aren’t meant to hear anything but praises and confessions of love and gratitude, the fact that you’re squealing and moaning for him to fuck you even harder, or the fact that he’s listening to every squealching sound, every creak the bed made, every slam of the headboard against your shared wall, every breath, every moan, every scream, everything.

That's when Denki flings himself off of the bed and empties his stomach, right on the floor next to his bed, tears stinging his eyes as he tries to trick himself that it's because of the way his throat is burning and not because of the way his heart is shattering, feeling it wrenched from his chest and thrown on the floor, stepped on and spat on and just beaten to the point of no return.

Sniffing and lifting his head up, Denki can’t help but see red, his whole body crackling with newfound vigor, his whole body is numb, like his quirk is taking the lead, putting his consciousness on the back burner. He chuckles, despite you moaning out Katsuki’s name when you find your release, despite him calling yours as he finds his, despite hearing your giggles and the kisses he’s pressing against god knows where on your body, despite the tears streaming down his face.

The last thing Denki remembers before he lets his quirk take complete control over him, is the humming of energy, the fleeting blinding brightness, the shattering of the light bulbs all around him, the loud deafening bangs, almost like music to his ears and finally, the sound of you screeching in horror. 

Hope you like it! Kithes kithes

[heavenbarnes]

feels so good to be us

Fezco (Euphoria) x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: mentions of drug use, mentions of guns, implied violence (all canon-typical), swearing, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex (this is fiction, yours isn’t, wrap it), dirty talk, light degradation, light choking, rough sex, light slapping, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 4.5k 

no secret that i fell in love w the guy whilst watching the show, so we’ll just see how this goes

She blew into town one day, seemingly out of nowhere, but not without purpose. Having reasons to be there was one thing, having reasons to stay was a whole other. Lacking in the latter, there was a lot to be grateful for in that one night.

The party that cracked on in a reasonable house, she was told by her friends that’d it’d be a good one. What she wasn’t told was that this was a party that was teeming with teenagers, horny ones in spandex and rhinestones.

A long way from home and everything was different.

Lucky enough, she poured herself a cup and hunted for a spot that was more around her age. Last thing she needed was to be caught up with a hoard of 17 year-olds looking to make trouble.

Whoever owned this house also came equipped with cash, judging by the indoor pool she stepped into, eyes up and trailing along the carefully carved architrave. Eyes far too transfixed to notice the young man on the lounger.

“You came looking for me?”

The voice made her head snap towards his direction, rolled smoke resting between his lips and steadily fingering a roll of cash. Narrowing her eyes at him in hesitation, she traced her finger around the rim of her cup.

“I don’t think so?”

He took his eyes from his counting and let them cast over her, that’s probably the first thing to pique her interest. Those kind of eyes you could fall into, pretty eyelashes too that almost made her want to smile.

She knew that he knew she was staring, but he hadn’t said anything about it, he didn’t seem to mind.

“You not from around here, huh?”

Straightening up and stepping forward a bit, she got closer so she didn’t have to shout across the room.

“No sir, I drove in this morning from out East.”

He nodded more to himself than he did her, tucking the money away in his hoodie pocket before leaning back on the cushion of the lounger. He took the cigarette between his fingers and tapped off some of the ash, eyes still nonchalantly drifting over her.

“Called it, I would’a remembered you otherwise.”

In trying not to let the corners of her mouth turn into a smile, it transformed into more of a pout, bordering on a frown. There was something about this guy, something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“You would’ve?”

“Yeah, cause you wearing clothes,” He answered, making any expression on her face dry out. “You seen those other girls?”

Looking down her front, she had to admit that her belted trousers and high-necked tank was considerably more than what any of the high-schoolers were wearing. Shrugging her shoulders with a nod that spoke of “fair enough”, she managed to draw a chuckle out of the guy.

“That and you cute.” The inflection was so cool she almost missed it, but that wasn’t to say it was lost on her.

Scuffing her sneakers against the poolside tile, he shifted forward along his seat and watched intently at the way she no longer fought the grin on her face. Didn’t know the guy from Adam, but he was already tweaking some kind of feeling in her.

“Who you here with?”

She lifted her head and gestured back towards where the noise of the party was drifting through the door. “My friends Ocasio and Seraphine, made me come to make friends but they didn’t say they’d be teenagers.”

He nodded knowingly, muttering something about knowing them too. “They all so young, why I’m only here for business.”

So the inkling in the back of her mind that he was a drug dealer was correct, making his first comment make a lot more sense. In an attempt not to seem like a total fucking loser, she shifted the conversation.

“They said I should look for some guy, said that I’d probably like him.”

The man lifted a brow, before throwing his gaze over her shoulder in his turn to admire the architecture. 

“Yeah? They give you a name, not a lot of people I don’t know.”

She thought on it for a moment, she knew it reminded her of That 70′s Show, and that is sounded remarkably fake at the time.

“Fezco, I think? If that’s even a real name?”

His shoulders bounced as he chuckled a little, eyes moving back to her own. He had one of those stares where it was intense, but there was nothing in you that wanted to look away.

“Nice to meet you too, mamas,” He lent back again and propped his foot up on the seat. “Do I get your name?”

In attempting to avoid looking like a fucking loser, she’d managed it anyways. Her cheeks burnt as she nodded with a nervous laugh, smiling out of necessity before offering him her name.

He made some remark about her still being cute, before they were cut off by a couple of young people tripping down the stairs and narrowly avoiding the pool. They made a line for Fezco, hoping to make a purchase off of him.

She couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, in the move of things she started to step back to where she came. An obvious cast of disappointment fell over her as she began to pull back from it all.

“Mamas,” That voice stopped her in her tracks. “Just lemme do this, I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

Just like that, she’d found a reason to stay. From that point on, you didn’t see her without Fezco by her side, with a hand on her lower back.

They were polar opposites, but MC. Kat said those attract so that could be said for why they’d done so well together. She was warm, kind, and so gentle it’d make your heart do fucking flips.

She was the softest thing that Fez had ever got his hands on, and he’d be damned if he was ever going to let it go. He was open with her, showed her all the bad things that he did and he’d done, and she chose to love him anyway.

If you asked Fezco, she felt like home, she was safe to come back to after a long day of doing things he wasn’t proud of. No matter how many times he made shitty choice after shitty choice, she knew the heart that rested in him was inherently better than anything.

Nothing made that heart fuller than seeing her own coming through, you want to talk big hearts? You start with her. She was the very definition of love, patient and kind, and it wasn’t uncommon for Fez to pinch himself in wonder of how he got so lucky.

The days she sat beside his grandma, holding her up as he brought the sponge along her back. Never a complaint, she’d just smile at Fezco, at the gentleness of his movements. The smile that said “I’d never want to be anywhere else.”

And if his boys were on their way around to fetch payment, nothing had to be said. She’d quietly tuck away in the bedroom, laying in silence as she daydreamed of a life where Fez was totally happy. In her visions they live in the countryside, he never has to look over his shoulder and he is forgiven.

She was always the delicate to his rough around the edges, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know exactly what was happening. You couldn’t mistake her kindness for stupidity.

“Mans, I don’t think you know what you getting into.” Fezco’s voice never shifted from that calm tone.

Nate Jacob’s shit eating grin made the hairs on the back of Fez’ neck stand up, the kid using his height to try and forge an ounce of intimidation. Unlucky for him, the man in front of him wasn’t a 17 year old cheerleader with daddy issues, he couldn’t scare him.

Nate would still give it his best shot.

“You obviously don’t know what you’re doing with me, I will fucking ruin you.” His bark through gritted teeth drifted up the hallway.

“You came to my house, ‘tryna start shit with me,” Fez never backed down, nearly chest to chest. “I never gave a fuck about you.”

The sound that came from Nate was a scoff, the disrespect was evident as he looked down on the other man. “So you’ve forgotten how you threatened my life?”

As he lifted his hand up towards Fez’ throat, he wasn’t able to clock her on his right quick enough.

She calmly padded down the hallway, shorts and her boyfriend’s hoodie draped across her body as she approached the scene before her. Left hand coming to lift the hem of the sweater and right coming to grip the glock stashed in her waistband.

By the time Nate Jacobs even knew she was there, he could already hear the safety coming off. His hand stilled as his eyes drifted over to her.

“Take another step, playboy.” Eyes staring down the slide and right at the guy in her sights. “Pick up your nuts, and get out of my house.”

Nate looked back to Fez, meeting an almost unfazed expression. His eyes came over to her and the barrel aimed between his eyes.

“The cops coming here didn’t teach you a lesson? You want them coming back here looking for guns too?”

Her laugh rolled around the room, drifting between the three of them as her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, go ahead and call the cops again,” Her grip on the pistol never faltered. “I’m sure Fezco’s boys would love to hear about the little bitch that had the pigs sniffing around their supply.”

There was no missing the way Nate’s jaw clenched at the sentiment, the thought ticking over in his head that he might’ve finally met his match. The match that he’d tried to chat up in the convenience store, right in front of Fez with his own girl in the car.

“Everyone knows your name, Jacobs,” Fez wasn’t the only one he couldn’t scare. “Would hate for it to be dropped around the wrong people.”

The quarterback brought his arm down from her boyfriend’s neck, turning to face her with the gun only following his movements. Fezco stepped off him, making his way over to his girl.

He stood behind her, chest to her back as his hands rested against her waist. Lips moments from her neck as his eyes trained back on the teenager trying to raise hell in his own living room.

“Is that a threat?” The sour expression on Nate’s face was nothing short of unattractive. She didn’t know a lot about Maddie Perez, but she knew the girl could do better.

“No, it’s a fucking warning,” In an instant the gun was turned on it’s side. “I won’t say it again, get out of my house, before I fucking kill you.”

It didn’t take much more before Nate was dragging his knuckles out of the house, door slamming behind him. At that sound, she had the safety back down and was placing the gun in Fez’ hands.

He chuckled, turning her towards him with that same grip on her hips. His hands came back to put the gun in the band of his drawers, before he was shifting to cup her face. Fezco could feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks.

“Do I even ‘gotta tell you how fine you look waving my piece round like that?”

She matched his laugh, heart still beating wildly in her chest. Shaking her head, her lips came to Fezco’s, feeling the plush of his lips moving in time with hers. “I will definitely leave that up to you.”

“But you looked so good handling it, mamas.”

Brushing off his comment, she gripped his hand and lead him up to the bedroom, muttering something about him looking even better.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Fez stood in front of her, looking down at the woman who’d kill for him. He knew he’d found his absolute other half, there was no doubt about that.

He lifted the glock to her face, trailing the muzzle along her cheek before she turned her head gently and gave it a sweet kiss. He shook his head, leaning down to tuck it under their mattress.

Kneeling down before her, parting her knees so he could nestle in there, his face was so close to her own that she could feel the heat in his breath.

“You mean everything, baby, I fucking love you.”

That was what it was all about, the perfect balance that existed between them. Whilst Fezco might’ve been the guts, and she was the glory, there was no doubt that they’d always be what each other needed.

The first time in a while that Fez had felt was able to be vulnerable, was the moment he sunk into her arms after a grim night. She didn’t ask any questions, just wrapped him up in her and reassured him that she felt nothing but adoration for him.

On his part, he’d found paradise in a girl that was sweeter than an angel, but was always down to let him fuck her like a whore.

She wasn’t really down for a Halloween party, but she was always down to dress pretty and be on the arm of her man in the cleanest suit. Platform heels and a flowery mini dress, it was the godfather and the hippie, sat outside by the pool as the smoke from Fez’ blunt cast a cloud around them.

Thoughts drifted back to the moment they met, looking an awful lot like this.

Teenagers dipped in and out of the house to buy off her boyfriend, she just sat back with her legs up in his lap, feeling his fingers rubbing against her calf every now and then.

She said hello to the girls as they drifted past, but nothing felt better than when it was just the both of them, enjoying each other’s company as those under the influence stumbled around them.

Fezco let his hand drift slightly higher up her shin, calloused fingers coming to trace along the curve of her knee. She watched the movements of his touch, not ignoring the way her skin prickled underneath the graze of his nails.

Taking the blunt from his mouth, he turned to look at her fondly, hazy smile when he found her already looking back at him.

“This your song, mamas,” He referred to the Jack Harlow joint that was coming through the speakers. “You ‘gone dance for me like you do at home?”

She smirked, lifting her legs out of his lap and stepping out in front of him. “Depends if you’ve got the money to throw.”

Slowly spinning around for him, her hips swayed in a motion that he followed intently, catching onto the way her dress lifted with each movement.

“You trippin’ if you think ‘imma pay for what’s mine.”

Stopping the swing of her hips, she moved in closer to where Fezco sat with his legs spread wide. Moving between those legs, she bent over over and braced a hand on each of his knees.

“What are you tryna’ do, big man?”

Fez lent forward in his seat, lips coming to gently press to her own before he spoke in a hushed tone, better to keep his private moves private from the kids swirling around the both of them.

“I’m tryna’ blow your fucking back out.”

One thing could be said for Fezco, the man could keep his word. The minute he got her into the bedroom, large hands splayed across her hips and gripped tight enough to leave a mark.

Lips ran up the column of her throat, the graze of teeth left in the wake of his movements. Heady moans slipped off her tongue and filled the small room, coaxing Fez to move a little quicker.

His girl was getting impatient and he was never one to keep her waiting.

Turning her in his hands, he still had a mean grip on her waist as he moved her knees to perch on the edge of the bed. One large hand spread in the center of her shoulder blades as he pushed her chest down onto the mattress.

“Be a good girl and arch your back for me.”

Stomach dropping down and hips rolling back, she shook her ass for him as Fezco shifted up the hem of her dress, revealing the pretty lace she wore just for him. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them further apart till she got even lower.

One hand came back to slap the cheek of her ass, a sorry moan ripping from her chest as he massaged over the spot. Feeling the way his thumb traveled down the line of her underwear, grazing over where she was wettest for him.

Hooking around the band of the thin panties, Fez slipped them down her legs, sucking in a breath seeing how wet she’d been for him this whole time. She shook her hips, presenting herself to him like a meal he’d been waiting to be served.

“What got you so fuckin’ needy? Or you just always begging for it?” His voice rumbled through his chest, hitting her straight between the thighs.

“It’s always you, I just need you to fuck me.”

Two thick fingers dragged up her slit as she rolled her hips back for him, eager to catch anything that felt like pleasure. This teasing was nearly killing her, but he was damned if he wasn’t going to make her work for it.

“You ‘sposed to be a good girl but you lost your manners.”

Whining out, not caring how pathetic it must’ve sounded to him, she shook her ass again. Doing whatever she could to draw him and make him give it to her like she needed.

“Please, Fezco, I fucking need you.”

The sound of his belt coming loose was like music to her ears as his thumb gently dipped into her wetness. So close to getting what she wanted, he was never good at keeping anything from her. Especially not when she looked this pretty.

She felt him run the blunt head of his cock through her wetness, resting at her entrance for a moment. Tiny cries and whimpers still fell steadily from her pouted lips, Fezco sliding his hand down her back until his fingers fixed around the back of her neck.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy,” With one thrust he filled her straight up. “I never felt anything like you, baby.”

Her cheek pressed against the mattress with his grip, filthy moans drifting through the air as she felt Fezco wrecking her. His other hand still gripped tight at her hip, pulling her back onto him with every thrust.

It was never better than when it was this nasty, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as he fucked her dumb, the only thing on her mind was his name as she sang it back to him. 

He loved the sound of her crying out for him, pussy clenching impossibly tight around him. Fez knew every spot within her, exactly what to do to make her come apart under his hands.

“You so fuckin’ tight, mamas,” He gritted his teeth as his hand slid from her neck to grip her shoulder. “Tryna’ make me buss’ quick.”

A filthy giggle rolled straight off her tongue, before it turned right back into another cry as Fezco hit that spot just right. The hand on her hip slipped under and before she knew it, her eyes were rolling back as his fingers moved quick against her clit.

He nearly ripped a scream from her, moving his hand back to slap her pussy, before rubbing that same spot. He was going to be the death of her one day, the way he always knew exactly what he was doing.

“Baby- I’m ‘gonna- I’m ‘gonna,” Her words dropped off as she moaned for him under the pressure of it all.

“You good, ‘lemme hear it.”

Clenching like a vice around him, her whole body tensed up as the white hot feeling of her orgasm rolled over her. There was no doubt the neighbors would know about it, the way he never let up on her, had her crying out off the top of her lungs.

Fezco dipped his hand under her throat, fingers lightly fixing around it as he pulled her up to kneel. Falling back against his chest as he kept fucking her through it, her hand came back to grip his thigh.

She knew he was near his end, his hips were stuttering and the way he was groaning in her ear, she knew she had him good. Turning her head, her nose brushed against his face so her lips were moments from his skin.

“Come in me, please, baby.”

That was all it took, his arm flying around her waist as he gripped her hard to him. Hips stilling deep inside her as he filled her up, a vulgar cry from her as she felt him hot and running in her. Sliding his hand down her chest, he crossed his arms against her, nuzzling down into her neck.

“Maybe you are a good girl, huh?”

There was no doubt that she wasn’t just good, she was the best. Who else was going to sit patiently with their feet in Fezco’s lap as he counted his money and chewed through a pack of cigarettes.

Couldn’t find another girl that’d stand by his side at the town carnival, looking just as sweet as the cotton candy she was placing on her tongue as locals came asking around for their friend Molly.

Hot summer days outside the convenience store, popsicle between her lips as her sundress flutters gently in the breeze. Fezco ready to round up anyone that stared just a little too long.

Maybe it was all that candy that went past her lips, but there was never anyone who acted, or tasted that sweet.

Hearing the door shut, her mouth naturally curved into a smile. He was home, meaning he was safe, meaning she was safe and content. Fezco rounded the couch to where she sat, one arm braced behind her on the cushion as he lent down to kiss her.

Hands naturally coming to cup his chin, she felt the scratch of his beard in her palms as his mouth moved gently against her own. His shoulders dipped with a sigh, one that told her he was just as happy to be home as she was to have him.

“You seem so tired,” She cooed as she separated their lips. “Let me take care of you.”

Her hand trailed down the front of his sweater, coming to rest on his belt. Fezco pressed her hand down, against his crotch, bringing their lips back together. As she moved her other hand to start undoing his belt, he squeezed her hands to stop them.

Placing a hand on either side of her thighs, he dropped to kneel in front of her, before wrapping his hands around her knees and parting them. Fez lifted each of her legs and draped them over his shoulders.

Rough hands pushed the bottom of his hoodie, that was currently covering her, up her body and exposing her scantily clad lower half. Shallow breaths came from her as he dragged her panties down her legs, shifting her hips closer to the edge of the couch.

“This the only place I wanna’ be right now, angel.”

Her breath came across as choppy as she relaxed back into the couch, feeling big hands grip the the skin of her thighs. Fez’ head moved between her legs, pressing a kiss straight to her slit.

Hands coming to hold his head, thumbs massaging against the skin as her hips rolled forward toward his mouth. Darting his tongue out, he drew it up and along her until it came into contact with her clit.

Drawing his tongue around the nub, he felt her legs tense up against his shoulders. Fezco’s hands gently rubbed at her legs, feeling her relax once again into him.

The soft little whimpers that only she could make fueled him like nothing else, dragging his tongue quicker in an attempt to draw any sounds out of her. Her hips bucked up with the sensation of his tongue, pulling his face in closer.

“God, Fezco, you always make me feel so good.”

Humming in response, the sensation moved through her from between her thighs and deep into her. The feeling of the tip of his tongue against her clit made her toes curl up, feet running along the length of his back.

Fez wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking the sensitive nerves and making her call out his name. Her chest rose, arching her back off the couch as her thighs tensed around his head.

He never let up, just continued the assault on her clit as she writhed beneath his grasp. Fez couldn’t get enough of this feeling, having her wrapped around him and completely falling apart in his hands.

She couldn’t believe how lucky she got, having a man that walked straight through the doors and got on his knees for her. There was never a moment where Fez didn’t have her feeling like she was in the clouds.

Her whole body burnt hot as his tongue dipped into her, before dragging back up. Eyes falling shut and fingernails running down the back of her head, every time he moaned at the feeling it hit her straight where she needed it. 

“You’re ‘gonna make me come, please don’t stop.”

Fezco’s eyes flickered up to her, watching the way her whole body moved for him and her head kept falling back in pleasure. To have her reacting so strongly to him, he hoped she couldn’t see the way his cheeks were starting to burn.

“Go ‘head baby, come for me.”

The high-pitch of her whine pierced the air as her hips stuttered against his mouth. She felt her body relax, the feeling of pleasure consuming her entirely as Fez let her ride his face out of her high.

As she came back down to Earth, he came back up to her, hand wiping down his beard and watching the glow of her face. Lazy smile across her face as she reached out for him, going back to his belt.

“You going to let me take care of you now?”

One day they’d roll out of this town together, find their peace and spend their time looking forward without a care. Until then they found peace in each other, holding one another close.

More than anything, they’d found hope in each other? That this wouldn’t be forever, that you could find forgiveness in whatever you’d done.

Whenever there was a doubt, she just echoed those words back to him with a smile, the ones that she’d never forgotten.

“I ain’t done ‘whichu yet.”

[beigehearts]

Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited. 

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding. 

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers. 

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?” 

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.” 

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.” 

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.” 

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he? 

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?” 

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.” 

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option. 

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose. 

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long. 

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape. 

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this. 

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee. 

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. 

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable. 

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over. 

“May I finish my coffee first?” 

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching. 

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful? 

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary. 

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time. 

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire. 

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire. 

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now. 

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly. 

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all. 

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.” 

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question. 

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back. 

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.” 

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

[izusun]

*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*

OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!

So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.

He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.

Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)

Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.

So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.

(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)

- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)

GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E

i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)

ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)

and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?

she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.

then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.

further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.

izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.

so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.

when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.

katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)

katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.

“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.

he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.

then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.

then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.

izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.

mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.

then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.

following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.

it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.

so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.

then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.

this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.

then he learns how to build them.

by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.

he fails.

nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.

so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.

izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.

by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.

when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.

nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.

izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.

katsuki gets 85.

aizawa gleefully takes them in.

izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.

and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.

it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.

——

how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.

[withcolebrock]

I Drew That

Corpse Husband x fem!reader

Summary: Corpse finds out that Y/N has a drawing of him as her background

Warnings: swearing :)

Word Count: 1,818

Author’s Note: I’ve spent weeks trying to write this piece :/ I just couldn’t find a way to make it how I wanted it if that makes sense but I tried my best. This idea was very cute because I can totally see this happening lol. Especially with like the whole flirty voice thing Corpse has been doing with like Brentman and like James and stuff haha. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

~~~

Tonight was one of the many nights that she was playing Among Us. It had taken over her life, a flood of success followed her once she had played with Sean and Felix. She had gained over two hundred thousand subscribers on her YouTube channel. It had changed her life for the better, in many ways.

For the last three rounds, it had been strict imposter wins. Felix won two of those. Everyone was shocked when it was him the second time, Felix was getting great at the game. The group then decided to switch lobbies because Felix was throwing a fit about getting imposter too much. It was the usual group of Felix, Sean, Poki, Rae, Sykkuno, Leslie, Toast, Dave, Corpse, and Y/N.

Over the last few months everyone in the group had gotten a lot closer. Especially Corpse and Y/N. After the first time they played together, a lobby Sean had created, they had talked for hours after the first game they played. This had continued almost every time they had played  Most of the time, Corpse would be editing his videos while talking with her. It calmed him as he worked. She would be working on her art or scrolling through Pinterest or Tumblr.

They had even FaceTimed several times, where Corpse revealed his face to her. He made a big deal out of it, saying a whole monologue before he turned the camera to his face. She followed in pursuit being very dramatic as well. Whenever they would talk he would play her his music, waiting to see if she liked it. She loved any song he put out, despite it not being her usual music taste.

One night she was scrolling through Tumblr and found an artist who was drawing Among Us players with their little characters. One particular character made her smile and her heart flutter slightly. It was an amazing drawing of Corpse and his little character sitting on his shoulder. It was an art style she was familiar with, she loved supporting smaller artists. It was the cutest thing she has ever seen. Weirdly, it perfectly described him. She loved it so much, she decided to keep it as her phone Wallpaper.

The round started on Mira, where Y/N was a crewmate again. Throughout the whole night, she still hasn’t gotten imposter. “Dammit,” she groaned at the screen. She stood still at the start of the map, waiting to see if anyone would fake tasks at the start. Everyone ran off, not doing them. She quickly followed.

After a long thirty seconds lights get shut off. She ignores the emergency and continues doing her tasks, she stood by the vending machine when Felix killed her. “It’s fucking Felix again!” she leaned back in her chair groaning. She covered her face with her hands. “He’s gotta stop killing me first,” she shook her head. She tried to hide how annoyed she was.

Her body was called by Poki, she was the only dead one. “Oh my god,” Poki said once the screen popped up.

“Y/N no!” Rae yelled, “You guys, she’s died first the last three rounds,”

“Wait really? Oh Jesus, sorry Y/N,” Sykkuo said, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.

“I’ll protect you next round, Y/N, I promise,” Corpse said. Y/N tried to hide her smile and the heat rushing to her cheeks.

“We’ll avenge you, Y/N!” Sean yelled. Soon after everyone grieved her death they began asking each other where they were. Everyone had a solid alibi making it impossible for them to figure out who did it.

“Guys, guys, Y/N died first the last three rounds right?” Toast started, everyone hummed, “Who was imposter these past few rounds?” he explained. Everyone gasped.

“You really think I would kill her first three rounds in a row?” Felix tried to defend himself as the voting time clock turned red.

“You’ve done it twice already!” Sean yelled, voting Felix. Felix was saved since half of the group skipped. She floated around the map trying to get her tasks done quickly so she could talk to her chat without holding back the rest of the group.

She glanced towards her chat, reading a few questions, she shifted her gaze to the game and thought about the questions. “I’ve been working on a cute little animation for you guys, I might do another art stream with you guys. Only if you guys want it, of course.” she read through a few more questions while answering them, while she waited for the meetings to end.

Once all of her tasks were done, she began to talk about her art and fanart. “Yeah, there’s an artist on Tumblr, they are amazing, they deserve so much more recognition,”  she explained as she showed them her lock screen with the drawing of Corpse; without thinking about her chat being curious as to why it was him. Turning her phone back towards her, her eyes widened as realization dawned on her.

The chat began to flood in with questions, begging Y/N to tell them why she had Corpse’s drawing as her background. She chose to ignore the question and continue talking about her own art and showing fan art. Despite trying to change the subject, she sighed dramatically. “Chat, there’s no reason why Corpse’s character is my background, the artist is just good, stop talking about it,” she giggled as the victory screen popped up on her screen.

“Felix what the fuck!” she unmuted in discord. He began laughing as he began to defend his actions. “No, no it doesn’t matter if I know your liar voice, Felix-” After about five minutes of everyone talking the next round started. She was a crewmate again, “I feel like I’m bugged,” she groaned as she started running around doing her tasks. Corpse’s little black character was following her.

“Looks like I got myself a little body guard,” she smiled as she spoke. They walked passed the medbay room, as Corpse moved his character dramatically. She rolled her eyes as they both walked into the medbay room. She didn’t have medbay, but she sat waiting for Corpse to finish. They continued doing tasks together until a body was called. It was Sean’s.

“Y/N’s cleared I was with her the entire time,” Corpse said confidently into his mic. She said the same about him. Poki was acting a little weird during the call, which made Y/N a little suspicious of her.

~~~

When the lights were shut off Corpse was killed by Poki, and he groaned as his body was killed immediately. Poki called out Y/N right away, saying that she was with Corpse the whole time. Corpse glanced towards his chat, finally able to try and read everything everyone was saying. His eyes lit up as he saw her name flash the screen several times.

One person kept spamming the chat saying, Y/N’s has your Among Us character as her background, he smiled as he read it. He knew exactly what the picture was, “Oh really?” he hummed as he continued reading. Everyone was saying how nervous she got when they kept asking her about it. He pressed his lips together nervously. He decided to drop it for now, but he was curious. He looked back up to the screen and began to listen to what was happening during the meeting.

“...You really think I would spend this whole game marinating Corpse for me to kill him in front of Poki? What about that double kill that happened, there was no way I would’ve done that if I was with him.” Y/N explained, over Poki trying to defend herself.

“I think she’s got it guys,” It was down to Toast, Y/N, Sykkuno, and Poki. Everyone quickly voted for Poki. The Victory screen popped up. “I knew you had it, Y/N,” Corpse said as everyone started shouting into the discord.

After a few minutes of them discussing the round, they decided to switch over to Polius. “Hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?” Corpse asked, the group quickly went quiet.

“Sure,” she giggled.

“My chat keeps saying you have my character as your phone background, is that true?” he asked, teasingly. He smiled widely. The entire group started cheering while teasing Y/N and Corpse.

Her mouth dropped open as she tried to find a way to explain it, “Well, uh,” she cleared her throat, “I do actually, it was great art, what was I supposed to do?” she laughed.

“Oooo, someone has a little crush,” Sean teased, Felix quickly joined. The rest of the group was simply laughing along. Corpse stayed silent while the group was teasing Y/N, and Corpse for that matter.

He pulled up Y/N’s Twitter and began to scroll through her feed to find the perfect drawing. He took the drawing that Y/N did of her own Among Us character. It was a drawing of Y/N holding her little character in her hand. It was his favorite piece of art she has done. Mainly because she drew it while on FaceTime with him. He quickly changed it to his iphone background, he glanced back towards the screen, seeing if the game started. He took a screenshot of it and immediately texted it to Y/N.

“Y/N, look at our messages,” he said simply into his mic. The group slowly stopped talking as they waited for Y/N to open the message.

“Corpse, I’m scared,” she whispered, everyone started laughing.

“Just open the message,” he giggled.

She sighed dramatically while she pulled up the messages with Corpse, seeing the screenshot. Her lips fell into a pout as she saw it. “I drew that,” she mumbled into the mic.

“You did,” he whispered, as he felt heat rise in his cheeks. He loved hearing her voice. “It’s my favorite,” he continued.

“Corpse,” she whined as her eyes began to tear up. She didn’t know why, but her heart felt so full. “You didn’t have to do that,” she mumbled, readjusting herself in her chair. She shifted her gaze towards the contact name, Corpseyyy.

“Of course I did, It was beautiful art,” he muttered while he looked back towards his phone, admiring his new phone background.

“Is this..a possible.. New relationship starting?” Sean whispered dramatically into his mic.

“It sounds like it,” Rae interjected. Corpse rolled his eyes dramatically, but he didn’t oppose the idea; neither did Y/N. Rae quickly started the game, letting the tension ease between everyone. Corpse and Y/N got imposter together.

“Oh my god finally,” Y/N said into the mic as she started faking tasks, “Chat, please stop saying I’m blushing, you aren’t helping,” she giggled as she continued the game. She raised her hand to her cheek, feeling the warmth.

[its-deputy-caleb]

If you're feeling up to writing a bit of Mikey, could I please request him being an asshat to everyone and being told off by his S/O after he asks Jack if he wants to earn a dollar?

(You know the part where he says to ask Arthur about the stick up his butt?)

He's such a dickhead and I find myself telling the screen off when he does it! 😂

OR

His S/O giving him a slap and a bollocking after he kicks Cain, then they fuss over Cain and force Micah to make friends with him.

I dunno, it's up to you 😂 You could write any scenario you want, I'll still love it 😘😘

i am always up to writing for a bit of mikey (that nickname is so cute) but ngl i had no idea how to write this or put this together. I watched the clips again so i could get it accurate but i changed it bc i didn't know if u wanted a happy ending or not but i hope i delivered <33 also u asked for either and i gave u both :)

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

Clemens Point was a strange place with even stranger people. After leaving valentine in a hurry it seems the entire gang was on edge and ready to blow like a stick of dynamite. It seems having to act like upstanding heartfelt citizens to the Grays and the Braithwaites has meant everyone is that aggravated and pent up.

On more than one occasion you’d seen Sadie lose it when Pearson got to pushy with chores and it seems Abigail and John couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for five minutes before one of them broke. It wasn’t much better with Dutch and Hosea who were constantly disagreeing on the right moves for the gang, although they were much more civil about it.

You did your best to keep out of everyone’s way, to avoid the confrontation but knowing your luck you’d end up getting involved one way or another.

You were returning to camp one sweltering hot afternoon with Sadie after you finished collecting the gang’s weekly stock from the general store. You were only half listening to the hustle around the camp as you were too busy listening to Sadie tell you all about Pearson’s dear aunt Cathy. You stepped off the wagon and headed to the back to start unloading some of the supplies when the sound of Micah’s voice could be heard talking to Jack.

“How’d ya like to earn a dollar?”

His voice with thick with malice as he hunched over the wooden table. In Micah’s hands was a silver nickel that he fiddled with between his fingers, much like you’d seen of him do with his knife. Your eyes found Jack who was almost reluctant to get anywhere near the man who you knew scared him. However, being the innocent child that he was his eyes lit up at the sight of something shiny.

“A dollar? Sure.”

You carried the heavy bag of potatoes over to Pearson’s wagon as you went back for another round of supplies but you kept the boy in the corner of your eye.

“Well…go on up to old Arthur Morgan, ask him about the pole he’s got stuck up his ass and I’ll give ya a dollar.”

Micah’s face lit up in a smirk, his accent thick and his typical evil giggle falling from his mouth. He sat back on the chair, satisfied at the mischief he’s caused.

Before you could get anywhere Jack had run off to where Arthur was sitting in his tent, reading over a letter. You placed another round of ammunition into Strauss’ wagon, dropping it hastily and running as you saw Arthur walk right up to Micah with a murderous look in his eye.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you shut your—“

Arthur didn’t get to finish his insult before you stepped in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder. You gave him a soft smile and a nod, quietly saying to your dear friend that you’d handle this.

With that you turned with your own look of anger directed to Micah. Everyone knew you loved him but they also knew you didn’t hesitate to call him out and get him to behave when you had to.

“Micah leave the damn boy alone!”

He scoffed like he wasn’t offended you didn’t defend him and instead chose to call him out. Micah’s hands came up in his signal of fake defeat as he slowly backed away from his place at the table, acting as if he was nothing more than the innocent bystander and not the one who nearly ended up on the ground with a broken nose for starting it.

You watched as Micah lingered around the edge of the camp, his eyes trained to yours as he lit a cigarette but you ignored him. Instead you walked over to Jack, smiling softly and taking his hand to lead him to the river’s edge.

“Common, why don’t we go see if we can find any beautiful rock on the sand, hmm? I’m sure your mother would love such a beautiful gift.”

-

Of course, it wasn’t more than a few days later when you ran into trouble again with Micah. You’d spent your time ignoring him mostly, instead choosing to go hunting with Charles and Arthur, practice your throwing knives with Javier and help teach Jack to read. You knew how badly it pissed Micah off to do things without him but he needed to understand that there was a way to treat people, especially with people you considered family.

You rolled up your sleeves, using your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you picked up the knife and started cutting carrots and potatoes for tonights stew.

“Are you a good boy? Yes you are! The best boy”

Your head came up to notice bill sitting against the log by the campfire, scratching under Cain’s chin and giving the energetic dog pats along the back. You couldn’t help but smile at the new addition to the gang and how happy it made you to see Bill less stressed. It seemed that having Cain made everyone feel more caring and loving.

All except Micah.

“You’re the fool that feed’s him Marion. He ain’t nothing more than a filthy mongrel and an extra mouth to feed.”

Micah had stood from his place on the opposite side of the campfire to antagonise Bill. A frustrated noise leaves you as you slam the knife down on the wooden bench, ready to storm over there and chew Micah’s ear off. You take a step forward only for Miss Grimshaw, who was working next to you, to grab your arm and stop you before you get any further.

“There is a time and a place dear, don’t make it worse.”

Of course you knew Susan was just trying to keep another argument from happening but you push past her when you see Micah inching towards Cain who had left his spot at Bill’s feet to hide by a wagon. In a split second decision you pick the knife you’re cooking with and use it like a throwing knife to get his attention. The knife swings through the air, not getting near anyone, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to stab Micah no matter how badly he could get on your nerves and watched as it got wedged into the tree behind him.

Micah’s head shot up, his foot moving away from Cain and stared dumbfounded and shocked, unused to seeing you so skilfully throw a knife but your practices paid off. You walked right into his personal space, taping your finger against his chest.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

Micah’s first response was to try and sweet-talk his way out of it like he always does but you were in no mood to deal with his slyness.

“Dare to do what sweetheart? Common now… weren’t gonna do nothin—“

Your hand came to give Micah a crisp slap across the cheek, apart of you was shocked that you’d even do such a thing but the other half of you was furious.

“Don’t underestimate for a minute that I won’t dump you right now and throw you out of camp Micah. I’m not some stranger you can sweet-talk when you get in trouble. I swear, if I see you go anywhere near Cain the knife isn’t going to hit the tree next time.”

Micah’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as you lecture him in front of almost the entire gang. Even Dutch put his book down when he heard your slap. He was lost for words, truely, having now other thought as he watched you walk away back to preparing tonights stew. He didn’t move from his place until he heard you whistle for Cain to sit by your feet, where he went and meandered off into the forest to give you space. All he knew was that he must have fucked up bad if you threatened to leave him.

-

A few hours later you’d managed to calm down, watching the sunset after Ms Grimshaw gave you the rest of the night off to relax at how pent up you were. Now sitting here you couldn’t help but feel like you may have over reacted but Micah had pushed your buttons one too many times and if Micah was going to listen to anyone it would be you. You let out a soft but hearty sigh as the tension and stress from your shoulders left with your breath. Your body relaxed against the tree and you watched the sun gently dip below the horizon.

It was well and truely dark before you heard the rustling of grass and the thud of someone sitting next to you. You thought it may have been Arthur coming to check on you but that thought died when arms wrapped around your waist and you felt Micah rest his chin on your shoulder, his stringy hair tickling your face at the gentle breeze.

“…M’ sorry…”

A very quiet and forced apology was pulled from Micah as he cuddled into you, mumbling it into your shoulder at the pain of actually having to apologise.

“Sorry won’t cut it Micah. You have to stop treating people that I care about— people that are family better.”

Micah sighs, the defeated, tired one that shows he’s willing to listen because no matter how badly he stirs up trouble, the thought of losing you is enough to have him turn his mind around.

“I know…gonna make it up to ya I promise.”

A soft and very cautious kiss is placed on your shoulder with Micah knowing he’s still not forgiven by you yet.

“You’re damn well gonna make it up to me. Firstly you’re apologising to Jack first thing tomorrow and secondly you need to pull your weight for this gang— and no I’m not talking about robbing another coach. To start you can sit on guard duty with me and you can wash my clothes.”

“I’ll just buy you new clothes”

You give Micah a death glare as you tilt your head to look at him. Instantly his teasing smirk leaves and his arms come to wrap tighter around your body, resting his hands on your stomach and intertwining your fingers.

“Alright, alright… guard duty ain’t so bad.”

You sit together for a while in a comfortable silence. All the energy from today had left you and you no longer had it in you to keep arguing. You’d hold Micah to his promise to do better but for now you leant back into his embrace and rested your head against his.

“Can I at least sleep in the tent tonight?”

You smiled softly as you hummed in contemplation just to tease him. Micah hadn’t come to sleep in your shared tent since the day he messed with Jack and both of you had missed each other despite the frustration and anger you had.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Micah thinks you’ve said no, panicking internally but is stopped when you turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek over the mark from where you’d slapped him not so long ago. It wasn’t the kiss that he wanted but he still needed to make it up to you before you gave him what he wanted.

You reached a soft hand up behind you, cradling his head and rubbing your thumb over his sore cheek.

“Is your cheek okay?”

Micah let out a gravelly noise, deep from his chest as he leaned into your hand.

“Ain’t gotta worry sweetheart, I’ve survived much worse”

You don’t get to reply when a tentative and cautious Cain makes his way over to the two of you. You pat your leg and he curls up beside you with his head resting on your leg and his tail thumbing, relaxed and happy.

Micah on the other hand was not relaxed or happy as he tensed up and moved away from the dog and you. If it wasn’t for your hand holding the back of his head he probably would’ve jumped away.

“Micah Cain isn’t going to hurt you, he just wants attention like you. See? No need to be afraid.”

To prove your point you reach a hand out and gently brush over his short, grey fur, watching as he perks up.

“I ain’t afraid!”

You would’ve believed him if you didn’t catch the waver in his voice but you knew. You knew after seeing him be spooked by the animal more than once around camp.

The hand that was still intertwined with his gently guided his hand pat Cain, letting him slowly get comfortable to him.

It took some time but finally Micah had gotten used to Cain enough to realise he was clearly not a threat. At some point Cain had moved over to Micah’s side, resting beside him as the night became later.

A yawn left you and you slowly sank into Micah’s embrace, your eyelids falling shut as you dozed, clearly exhausted.

Holding Micah to his promise was a job for tomorrow, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the tent be damned.