#and she decides she doesn’t want to be part of that
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writerdownbookworder · 22 hours ago
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“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.
Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?
A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.
“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.
I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”
He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”
“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 
By the time I got there, it was too late.
“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 
It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.
I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 
Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”
I stubbornly ignore him.
He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”
He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.
Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”
“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”
I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”
Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”
“Why do you-”
“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 
“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”
I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”
Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”
He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.
The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.
Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.
I chose the latter.
your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times
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wandascosmic · 3 days ago
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why can't you see? (8)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
part eight of 'you belong with me' series
summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office
word count: 3418
tags: best friends to lovers, actual idiots to lovers, they're so cute my little babies, 3/4 of this is just reader being a little shit but she's so real like she's me when im doing work, wanda's so here for it though they're so on the same wavelength it's adorable
taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7
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Tony suddenly feels the sensation of his jacket being pulled over his head. “Oh!” he grunts, as his eyesight his overshadowed by darkness. 
“What has two thumbs and likes to bone your mom?” Hayward asks in a gross joking tone, pulling the jacket back down. 
Tony turns around slowly, his eyes widening in surprise and happiness once he sees who’s surprised him. “Tyler!” Tony says excitedly before hugging the man. 
“What’s up Tony, how’s it going?” Hayward says cockily. Hayward smirks as he turns to you at your desk. “What’s up, L/N, still queer?” he asks. 
You give him a tight-lipped smile before going back to work, and Wanda watches you with an amused grin. Your absolute lack of ability to hide when you’re annoyed always made her laugh. 
“Man, we have loads of catching up to do,” Tony tells Hayward as he starts to lead him towards his office while the two begin to engage in chatter. 
You roll your eyes aggressively. 
God, you hated Tyler Hayward with a burning passion. 
Standing up from your desk, you grab your jacket ready to head out for lunch. But of course, you need to stop by your favourite receptionist’s desk for the fifth time today. Or maybe sixth. 
“What has two thumbs and hates Tyler Hayward?” you ask her as you walk over. 
 Wanda smiles knowingly. “Me,” you mouth to her, pointing your index finger at yourself.  
“Well,” Wanda says. “I’m always here if you need saving.” 
“Please,” you respond, giving her a knowing look. “Hey, do you want anything from the sandwich shop down the street?” 
“Oh! Yeah, could you get me that ham and cheese one you got me last time?” 
You smile. “Sure,” you say, before heading out the door. 
***
“I’m really excited to meet your mom,” you tell Wanda as you take a bite of your turkey sub. 
“You are?” Wanda asks, unwrapping the sandwich you got her. 
“Mhm,” you nod. “I’ve got many questions to ask her.” 
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Wanda asks curiously with a tilt of her head. 
You grin before assuming a quizzical expression. “Like this.” You shift in your seat slightly to get more into character. “As a child, did Wanda show any traits that would hint towards her future career as a receptionist?” 
Wanda laughs. “I’m not sure she’ll know how to answer that question.”  
***
The door opens quietly, and you smile as you see Iryna Maximoff start to slowly make her way towards her daughter. Wanda doesn’t notice, continuing to type on her computer. 
Suddenly, Wanda feels a tap on her shoulder. 
And turning her head, Wanda’s eyes light up once she sees who’s in front of her. Wanda’s told you how much she loves her mother, many, many times. 
Iryna smiles at her daughter. “Hi,” she says, before Wanda jumps out of her chair to hug her tight. 
“Mama!” Wanda exclaims, squeezing tighter. 
You smile at the heartwarming exchange. 
Deciding to go introduce yourself, you stand up from your chair, ready to go meet the woman who brought the most wonderful human being you’v ever known into this world. 
You faintly hear Wanda begin to tell her mother all the things she’s missed the past few weeks, but your nerves have caught up to you slightly and you desperately want to make a good impression. You brush the dust off your pants slightly, and start to walk over.  
Should you say hi? 
How are you?
Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N? 
Hi Ms. Maximoff, I’ve been in love with your daughter ever since she started working here so could you please like me? 
Nope. Definitely not. 
You groan, deciding to just get it over with. 
Taking a deep breath, you stand at Wanda’s desk with a smile, drumming your fingers on the wood as you prepare for the two Maximoffs to turn around.  
But of course, the universe had other plans. 
You turn your head to the sound of the door creaking open, and your heart drops as you see Vision enter. With fucking flowers. And gel in his hair. And the most obnoxious country club outfit you’ve ever seen. It made your work clothes seem like a potato sack in comparison, and you realize that you can’t meet Wanda’s mother looking like this compared to her fiance. Plus, Vision already hated you and had his suspicions. 
Regaining your composure, you eliminate any suspicion he may have had of you standing at Wanda’s desk by taking a candy from the communal dish at the front and immediately turn around to walk back to your own stupid desk. 
Sitting back down, you frown slightly, but ultimately decide that you should probably get back to the papers that were giving you a headache of boredom. 
All you wanted was to say hi. 
After a couple seconds, you overhear Iryna greet Vision. 
“Oh, there he is,” she says happily. Hey handsome, how are you?” You turn to see her greet him with a hug. 
“I’m pretty good. How are you?” Vision responds, very obviously sucking up as you’ve seen his true personality on a daily basis. “You look great, Iryna.” 
“Thank you very much,” Iryna responds with a smile. “So, are we ready for dinner?” 
“Oh,” You hear Wanda express, a bit forlorn. “Well, you know, actually I kind of need to stall a bit, since Tony’s gonna have a small meeting at the end of the day,” she says guiltily. “But, it’s okay since I’m very used to killing time.” Wanda chuckles a bit. 
“Oh, no worries,” Iryna tells her. “We’ll just wait a bit.” 
“For sure,” Vision agrees. “I’ll go wait in the parking lot.” Turning to Iryna, he asks, “and, uh, what kind of tunes do you want for the ride? Country? Oldies?”
“Oh, anything is fine,” Iryna replies kindly. 
“All right, well, see you soon!” Vision says before leaving the office. 
And the second the door closes, you finally hear something that makes you smile.
“So which one is Y/N?” Iryna asks her daughter cheekily. 
“Mama!” Wanda replies with a blush. 
***
It’s the next day, and you’ve never been as bored as you feel now. 
Actually, you’ve been on a boredom streak lately. 
But today is the absolute worst of all. 
After Vision had left, you had finally gotten the opportunity to properly greet Iryna before she left to join Vision in the parking lot, and Wanda had really seemed to enjoy the entire exchange. 
But now, it’s the next day, and you want to absolutely murder the papers in front of you. Depsite your hatred for Tyler Hayward, him showing up yesterday made your day somewhat different from the rest. 
Groaning loudly, you plop your forehead onto your desk and dread the day before you. 
Wanda, of course, is entertained by your shenanigans and snickers as she watches you. 
It was official.
You had died of boredom. 
(An occurence that happens once every sixth months. Seven if Tony’s being extra insane.) 
And your guys’ deal was that it was Wanda’s job to revive you. 
***
“You see Sam’s coffee mug?” Wanda asks as you stand in front of her at her desk.
“Mhm,” you say, turning to look at the mug along with her. 
Wanda leans slightly closer. “Sometimes when he’s not here, I try to throw stuff in it,” she whispers to you. 
“No way,” you laugh. 
Wanda nods at you with a sly grin, handing you a yellow piece of paper for you to crumple up into a ball. 
“We should play paper basketball one day with his mug,” you tell her as you crumple the paper absentmindedly. 
“No way,” Wanda shakes her head. “I’ve seen you play basketball.” 
“What if I get you chicken paprikash and your favorite candies?” 
“Deal.” Wanda says instantly. “Now throw, I can’t wait for Sam to drink it accidentally.” 
‘Wow, I can’t believe I’ve never seen this side of you Maximoff. You might be a bigger prankster than I am.” 
“You’re teasing me. I can tell,” Wanda narrows her eyes at you. “Throw the paper!” 
You laugh before throwing it as instructed. “Damn it,” you say when it misses. 
“I’m the only one who can keep up with your pranks, L/N. Plus, it’s fun doing them with you,” Wanda answers as she rummages through her drawers for something else for you to throw, unknowing of the fact that she just made your heart skip a beat. “Here, try paper clips.” 
You take a silver clip from the small box Wanda has just placed on the ledge of her desk, about to throw, before her voice stops you. 
“Oh wait,” she reaches to her side and grabs another paper, reading it over slightly. “This message, for Sam.” 
“Smart, Maximoff,” you say, causing Wanda to smile at you. 
Crumpling the paper, you throw it as best you can, but end up missing once more as it lands in Sam’s chair instead. 
“You know, I might actually beat you whenever we play that coffee mug basketball game.” 
***
“Hey, Steve,” you say, walking up to the man with a few sheets of paper in your hand. “Um, these new expense reports, do we really have to go back to last quarter?” 
“Yeah, It’s a terrible system, I know,” Steve sympathises with you. 
Suddenly, a board buried underneath the contents of Steve’s desk catches your eye. “Hey, what does 2005 season mean?” you ask. 
“Uh, that’s–” 
“No way,” you say as you pull the board out entirely. “Is this a scoreboard?” You ask, noticing the assortment of numbers written into various white boxes. 
“Yes, it is,” Steve acknowledges. 
“That’s so cool,” you say. “What’s it for?” 
Steve sighs. “Sometimes, when Tony’s out, Bucky and I play this paper football game he got me started on.”
“Or when we’re bored,” Bucky adds from his desk next to Steve. 
Inspecting the board a bit further, you see the hundreds of scores written on it. “Wait, this goes back two years! Oh my god,” you exclaim excitedly. 
“We’re bored a lot,” Bucky says, already folding a piece of paper into a small triangle. 
Steve turns to you. “Wanna try?” 
You nod with a grin. 
*** “Oh!” you exclaim as you flick the paper triangle to Bucky’s desk, making another shot. “Yes!” You high-five Steve who stands next to you. 
“Fun, right?” he says. 
“For sure, I really love the uh, paper triangle flicking and hitting things game.” You imitate the motion with your fingers.” It’s awesome.” 
“We call it Hateball,” Bucky tells you with a whisper. 
“Why?” you ask curiously. 
“Because of how much Nat hates it,” Steve says, nodding over to Nat who’s deep in her work on her computer. 
You look over at Nat, and you notice the hint of a smile on her face. 
“I don’t hate it,” she mouthes at you through the screen separating the desks once Bucky and Steve look away. 
You smile before turning back to Bucky and Steve. “Hey, do you guys have any other games?” 
Bucky inches forward towards you slightly. “Ask Bruce to teach you Shield ball, trust me.” 
***
“So, that’s what this sound is all day,” you exclaim with a smile as the ball hits the ceiling before passing between you and Bruce. 
“Fun, isn’t it?” Bruce replies back. 
“It’s awesome!” 
*** After exhausting the two new games you had discovered today as much as possible, you decided it was best to let your co-workers get back to work. 
Unfortunately, you had only blown off your work for about two hours, and needed to find a way to blow off the other five hours of the day. 
So, you created your own games. 
Something you liked to call ‘the Office Olympics.’ and you were surprisingly proud of what you could come up with. 
Wanda, like the incredible, wonderful, and kind person she was, had agreed to help you in creating your new project, and had ended up making beautiful medals out of paperclips and old yogurt lids. They looked surprisingly professional, which I guess shuoldn’t surprise you since it was Wanda.
You, and the majority of the office staff stand in the kitchen, with Wanda putting up a poster that says, ‘Games of the 1st Shield Industry Olympiad.’ 
Humming the Olympic Anthem, you hold a candle in your hand which you had found stashed away in your desk, a lighter in the other. “This scented candle,” you start with a smile. “Which I found at the bottom of my desk drawer,” you turn on the lighter and light the candle. “Represents the eternal….” you shake your head. “Burning of competition, or something.” 
“It smells like cookies,” Bruce says. 
“Yes, it does,” you look at him seriously. “Yes, it does, my friend.” 
“Okay, so, we’ll be competing for gold, silver, and bronze yogurt lids,” you say, holding up the medals by their paper clip chain. “Made specially by Wanda.” 
Wanda grins at you. 
“Let the games begin!” You lead the office staff out the kitchen with your candle above your head, all of you humming the Olympic anthem together. 
***
“Alright, so, here, what you have is the national sport of Icelandic paper companies,” you explain as you point to the paper boxes that have yellow rubber bands holding the lid and the vessel together at the top and bottom of their horizontal sides. “And, I’m blanking on the name, could you help me out, Wanda?” you turn to the brunette who stands next to you. 
“Y/N, they refer to it, as,” Wanda pauses. “Flonkerton.” 
You hum. 
“In English, ‘Box of Paper Snowshoe Racing’.” 
“Fair enough,” you say. “But, I like Flonkerton.” 
Wanda smiles. 
“So,” you continue. “Who will be challenging Bruce in Flonkerton?” 
“I’ll do it,” Jennifer says. 
“Yes, Jennifer! Cousins taking on cousins,” you exclaim. 
Both Jennifer and Bruce walk over to the boxes, Wanda helping Bruce with his footing while you help Jennifer. 
“So, if you could put your foot right through here,” you lift up the yellow band for her to slip her foot through. “Right through the flonk.” 
Once both Bruce and Jennifer were ready, the rest of the staff helped you put up the finish line at the end of the room, which was made of transparent tape. 
“Alright, are you guys ready?” you ask, receiving a nod from both parties. 
“Ready, set, go!” 
And the office erupts in cheers as Bruce and Jennifer try to make it to the other side of the room with the boxes on their feet. 
“Whoo! Go, go, go!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together. 
“Dig deep!” Steve yells. “Dig deep!” 
Soon, the two near the finish line, and you prepare to catch one of them in case they fall. 
“Oh, they’re neck and neck!” Bucky exclaims. 
“Come on!” Nat says. 
“Oh!” the staff exclaims all at once, as the two finally reach the finish line, Jennifer winning by the slightest edge. 
“Jennifer by a nose!” you announce. “Gold medal, in Flurnenton.” 
“Flonkerton,” Wanda corrects. 
“Thank you, delegate from Iceland,” you say teasingly. 
***
“Nat, are you sure you don’t want to join in on any games?” Wanda asks Nat as she stands next to her by the water dispenser. 
“I’m good with watching, thanks,” Nat chuckles, taking the last sip of her water. 
“Come on, don’t you have any games you enjoy?” 
“Well, there is one,” Nat says, throwing her cup out. 
“No way, what is it?” Wanda asks excitedly. 
“I call it Wanda-pong.” 
Wanda stares confused. “What?” she asks with a small laugh.
“Mhm,” Nat nods. “I count how many times Y/N gets up from her desk and goes to reception to talk to you.” 
Wanda pulls her head back in slight shock. “We’re friends.” 
“If you say so,” Nat says with a wink before heading off. 
***
“Peter! Gold medal,” you announce as the intern had correctly guessed who would be next to come up in the elevator. “Let’s move to our next destination, everyone.” 
“Oh, Y/N!” Wanda runs up to you and joins you at your side with a large box in her arms. 
“What’s up, Maximoff?” you ask with a laugh. 
“I made something for our closing ceremonies,” she says with a huge grin. 
“What?” you say with a smile, and Wanda opens up the box to show you. “Oh, my god,” you exclaim. “This is incredible!” 
Wanda smiles as she looks up at you. 
“When’d you have time to make it?” 
“Automatic voicemail,” Wanda responds cheekily.   
“”All right, Maximoff, all right,” you say, lifting up your hand and giving her a well-deserved high five. 
***
It was the absolute worst time for Tony to walk in with Sam. 
You were in the middle of the coffee race, seeing who could get a full mug of coffee from the coffee machine to Steve’s desk in the least amount of time. 
However, the two walked in halfway through the race, catching you all in your tracks. 
Now, you were back at your desk, filling out the stupid expense reports that had caused your death of boredom earlier this morning. But, in five minutes time you had gotten them done, and you had also closed two sales before the day was over. 
Truthfully, it was about as productive as any other day. If not, more so. 
“All done,” you tell Steve as you hand him the reports. 
“Great,” Steve responds before you walk off. 
You contemplate sitting down at your desk, and doing whatever you could find to do to entertain yourself, however, staring at the medal hung over your desk lamp, you think you have a better idea. 
“Hey,” you say to Wanda as you greet her at her desk. 
“I have 59 voicemails,” she responds with the phone to her shoulder. 
“Great,” you respond. “Actually, can you ignore those and do something for me instead?” 
Wanda stares at you for a moment before her face breaks out into a grin. “Sure.” She places the phone back into its holder. 
“Pefect,” you respond back. “So, today, 5 o’clock, closing ceremonies,” you tell her with a small smile. 
“Wait, really?” You nod. “Notify the athletes.” 
“Will do,” Wanda says as she gets up from her seat. 
***
Knocking on Tony’s door, you slowly enter his office, seeing him hunched over. 
“Tony?” 
“Y/N! Y/N, what’s going on?” he responds.
“Nothing, I just wanted to congratulate you on your condo.” 
Tony furrows his brows. “How did you find out about that?” 
Of course, the answer was Sam. And he had notified you all to be wary of Tony since the purchase was less than savory. 
“Sam,” you nod your head in the direction of his desk. 
“Of course,” Tony mutters. “But, thanks anyways.” 
“No problem. Hey, would you mind coming out here for a sec? I’ve got something for you.” 
“Really?” Tony asks, standing up from his chair. 
Slowly leading him out, you smile at the arranged closing ceremony Wanda had put together, a wonderful stage of first, second, and third place, along with a few surprises she had only told you about.  
“What’s this?” Tony asks. 
“These are the closing ceremonies,” you tell him. “Step up.” You lead him to the top stage, and pull out one of Wanda’s medals from your pocket. “Congratulations to Tony, because he closed on his condo. So, gold medal.” You place the item around his neck. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” Tony says. “But, thank you all, for this, I’m very grateful.” 
You smile. 
“And for, Sam Wilson,” you continue as Bruce leads Sam to the second highest stage. “The silver medal.” You place the award around his neck.
“And finally, for Jennifer Walters, the bronze medal.” You lead Jennifer to the final stage, as she had won most of the games of the Office Olympics. 
You nod at Wanda, and she pushes the play button on the speaker, the Star-Spangled banner beginning to play. 
All of you placing your hands on your heart, you begin to grin. 
“Why are you playing the National Anthem?” Tony whispers to you. 
“Um, because your condo’s in America.” you respond. 
“Fair enough,” Tony says. 
“Ready?” Wanda asks you, and you nod. 
Wanda starts to pull the string linked to the pieces of paper she had folded earlier, giving you a grin. 
“What is that?” Tony asks. 
“Those are the doves,” you answer. 
Wanda glances at you with a small smile, and you give her one in return. 
She did, in fact revive you from your boredom.
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rafedaddy01 · 3 days ago
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Rafe driving his best friends daughter home
She is being a Brat
So he decides to teach her a lesson
F ing her in the backseat
Little Brat
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Warnings: smut!!!, age gap, unprotected sex, p in v
The picture of Drew is what I imagine him to look like in this
Rafe was sick of your behavior, acting like a little brat that needed to be disciplined. He needs to teach you a lesson.
That’s how you found yourself in the backseat of your best friends, dad’s car. Bent in half and taking his cock like a champ.
His hand wrapped around your throat as his balls slapped against your plump ass.
You gasp for air as his hand gets tighter and tighter.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you feel the tip of his cock scrap against that gummy part inside of you just right with each thrust.
Your nails claw at his forearms, begging for relief and oxygen, but he dismisses you as he grips your throat tighter and thrusts harder.
Your vision goes blurry.
Just when you think your about to pass out he pulls his hands away, loosening his grip and you choke and spit as you breathe in air.
“Wanted to be a fucking brat” his hands grip the meaty flesh of your hips as he uses it for leverage to drive his cock deeper into your cunt.
Tears stream down your face from both the pleasure and abuse your body’s enduring.
Your mind is so conflicted. Your body betraying your thoughts as your pussy squeezes around him, sucking him in and tightening its grip around his cock like it’s afraid to let it go, never wanting the pleasure to end.
“Fuck, she’s squeezing me so tight” he groans as sweat drips from his forehead and down his nose.
“Please” you squeak out. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, for him to stop or keep going. The word just falls from your lips and it plants the biggest smirk onto Rafes face.
He doesn’t say anything, just picking up the pace of his hips and groaning your name as his cock is suffocated in your warmth.
“You wanna cum, baby?” He fake pots at you as he feels your end nearing. The way you clench around him and the way your eyes disappear into your head. The way your nails dig into his skin and search for something to grip onto.
“Y-yes” you moan out as your back arches, grinding yourself onto his cock and he continues to thrust in and out, in and out.
Taglist
@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover @mema10
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hannahbarberra162 · 1 day ago
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Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2
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18+ MDNI on Ao3
Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.
The first chapter
Shanks POV
Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking  “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.
“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you. 
“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.
Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 
Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed at the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 
“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”
“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.
“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.
“How much do you know about Omegas?” 
Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 
“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 
“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.
Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”
“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 
Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”
Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 
“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.
“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 
“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.
“So? What does that have to do with him?”
“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.
“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.
“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.
Your POV
You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.
You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.
The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.
“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 
“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.
“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 
The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.
“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.
“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.
“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 
“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.
Shanks POV
He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.
“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.
“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.
You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.
“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 
You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 
“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 
Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.
“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 
“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.
“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 
“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.
“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.
“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.
“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.
Your POV
Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 
Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 
“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.
“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.
“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.
“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”
“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 
“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.
“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.
“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.
“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.
“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.
“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 
“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.
After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.
“No, sit down. She’s fine -”
“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 
“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.
“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.
“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.
“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.
“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.
“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.
“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.
“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 
“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.
“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.
“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.
“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.
“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 
“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 
“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 
“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”
“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 
“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 
You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.
“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.
“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 
“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.
“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.
“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.
Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle
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mayrose713 · 2 days ago
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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 8
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ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI
Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed
⚠️Caution before reading⚠️
There's some deep conversations in this chapter so I advise to read with caution. A warning is there's heavy talk of Woojin, please remember the names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters are based after. The actions, views, personalities and characteristics of these characters do not in any way shape or form reflect their real selves. This story is all for fun so please keep it that way. No hate. It took me a good two days to write this chapter with many breaks in between. I wasn't sure how I should write Y/n's backstory and had decided on trying to make it more relatable. For anyone who's used to reading my stories either on here or other platforms know I write a lot of things based on my own personal experiences so I can write better endings especially with comfort characters. This series is no different. Please know that I did exaggerate parts of it and everything that happened was years ago and I have gotten away from it. Thank you now please enjoy.
Chapter 8
Y/n’s dry heat lasted four days. Four days of them all taking turns cuddling with her in the nest keeping her fed and hydrated. Every morning and night Minho would kick everyone out of the den and apply the creams to her now mostly healed wounds and make sure she takes her medicine before helping her change into new clothes having been sweating through the previous ones each time. 
The worst day had to have been the second when she became super emotionless and just seemed to be a shell of a person. Her scent even became almost nonexistent. But they stayed with her especially when it caused her to sub-drop that night and they barely got any sleep trying to make sure she didn’t drop too deeply. 
They all slept in the nest with her every night, well except for Hyunjin. He didn’t come home the first night and snuck in the second night when they were all dealing with Y/n’s sub-drop. It was the third morning when her scent went back to normal from it that his beta started telling him she’s his fated mate causing his stomach to drop and his heart to ache. 
He would go downstairs occasionally, pretending to grab a drink or food and would subtly check in on her. That night he silently cried himself to sleep on the couch wanting to be close to her but knew he had fucked up. The fourth night after he cried himself to sleep again Changbin grabbed him from the couch and carried him to join everyone else in the nest. 
Hyunjin woke up the fifth morning in the nest with Jeongin hovering over him curiously. “Hi Innie.” 
“You better apologize to her.” The alpha tries to act dominant but it doesn’t last long as he pounces on him. “I’ve missed you, I hate when you act like that.” 
“I’ll apologize, I promise.” Hyunjin pulls the pup closer to him, happy to be with his mates again. 
“Mins going to kick us out soon to do what he needs to.” Jeongin whispers nuzzling into the betas neck.
And the youngest was right, as soon after Minho kicked them all out and moved to the omega to wake her up. “Come on kitten.”
“Let me sleep, Min.” She rolls over.
“Look at me, omega.” He places a hand in her hair and rubs gently as she whines and looks up at him.
The alpha sighs in relief when he sees her eyes are no longer foggy as they have been.
“You okay baby?”
“My body aches a bit.” She yawns and stretches. “And I need a shower.”
He smiles down at her, happy the dry heat is over. “How about a bubble bath instead? I don’t think any of us are ready for you to be alone quite yet.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve established already that you need to take me on a date first before you can get my clothes off.” She smirks causing him to give an evil grin.
“Kitten, I’ve been taking your clothes off for the last four days.”
“Yah!” She blushes in embarrassment and quickly covers her face with one of the nearby blankets. “I’m sorry you guys had to do all of that.” She whimpers and Minho grabs the top of the blanket pulling it down to see her face.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, baby.” His hand finds its way back into her hair. “You never have to apologize for things like this. We’ll take care of you, always, no matter what. It’s what packs do, especially for their mates.”
“But I’m not even pack.” She frowns. “And I’m not mated to you guys.”
“You are pack, no one can say otherwise.” He smiles at her. “And we’ll get you mated to us soon enough.”
She blushes again and he can’t help but fawn over how cute she is as he moves his hands down to her sides and starts tickling her.
“No, Min, stop.” She laughs trying to wiggle away from him.
“Only if you promise to stop frowning so much.”
“Okay, okay, I give.” She giggles, he stops and smiles down at her.
“There’s that beautiful smile.” 
Chan pokes his head in the door. “I heard her laughing, I’m guessing it’s over?”
“Yeah.” Y/n sits up properly and the alpha sighs walking into the room moving to the nest. 
“You scared us a little, baby girl.” He pulls her to his chest. “But you’re good now and that’s what matters. How are you feeling?”
“A bit achy and in need of a shower.”
Chan frowns a little at this. “How about a bubble bath?”
“That’s what I told her too.” Minho smiles.
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need all of you sitting in the bathroom while I take a bath. I think I’ll be okay alone.” 
“For our sanity, please just let one of us sit in there with you.” Chan tries to negotiate. 
“Fine.” The omega crosses her arms. “But it’s going to be Felix who does.”
“Deal.” Both alphas agree.
“I’ll go start it and let Lix know.” Minho stands up.
“Make sure to use Hyunjins expensive bath salts and bubbles.” Chan smirks. “He deserves it after how he was acting.”
Minho nods with a smirk and leaves the den and Chan turns back to the girl.
“My memories are a bit hazy from the last few days but I remember Seungmin helping me when it first started.” She whispers. “But I don’t remember Hyunjin ever being around. Is he still not happy?”
“Well I’ll tell you this.” The alpha coos at her. “Jinnie cried himself to sleep on the couch the last two nights and Bin had to bring him to the nest last night. He hasn’t said anything about you being her for the last two days and considering that and the fact that he was not so subtly trying to check on you, I think he’s realized how badly he fucked up. Just like Minnie did.” 
Y/n nods but also feels guilty for being the reason the oldest beta was crying himself to sleep.
“Sooo…” she rings her fingers together. “What’s going to happen now?” 
“You’re gonna get washed up and it’s the last day you need to take the antibiotics and do the creams.” He explained. “And then we’re gonna sit down as a pack and discuss everything.” 
She nods and starts to overthink about how the pack meeting will go but doesn’t get to worry for long as Felix rushes in tackling her into the nest.
“Hi sunshine.” He purrs. “I’m so glad to see you’re better now.” 
“Hi Lixie.” She nuzzles into him.
The older omega turns to Chan. “Can I take her now?” 
The alpha can’t help but smile at the two. “Yes baby, you can take her.” 
Felix grabs her hand, dragging her out of the nest and into the large bathroom on the first floor where Minho is just turning the taps off for the bath. The room smells of bath salts and the tub is full of bubbles. 
“I put your clothes on the counter.” Minho motions. “And I’ll be back afterwards to help you apply the creams. Lix keep an eye on her. Shout if you guys need anything.”
 Felix turns away as she strips and gets into the bath and once she tells him he’s good he sits against the wall next to the tub and talks with her as she soaks. He helps her wash her back then her hair and once she was ready to get out he left to get Minho again as she dried off and changed into shorts and a bra for the alpha to help her with the creams one last time and after getting her shirt on they head into the dining room.
“Y/n.” Seungmin comes over to her. “I’m really sorry…”
The omega hugs him tightly, surprising him. “It’s okay.” He relaxes and hugs her back. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Of course pup.” He buries his nose into her neck.
“I’m also really sorry for how I acted.” Hyunjin stands nearby. “I know it’s going to take some time with everything I said but I’ll work on it as I know now that you are our omega.”
Y/n smiles at him and nods as Seungmin lets her go and everyone moves to sit around the table to discuss everything. 
“So first things first Y/n.” Chan starts, sitting across from her. “You wanted to tell us about what happened before we found you. If you’re not ready yet that’s okay, just let us know when you are.”
“Hyunjin and Seungmin also wanted to explain themselves for how they acted.” Changbin explains, sitting between the two betas. “It will also help give you some understanding about the pack's history.”
Seungmin sighs, leaning back against the chair. “As you saw in the pictures in the tenth bedroom upstairs, we had another pack member, another alpha. That was his room.”
“His name was Woojin.” Hyunjin crosses his arms. “It was back before all of us officially became each other's mates but we had all been discussing it as we understood we were each other's fated mates. We had also all agreed we would be looking for you, our fated omega.”
“But Woojin had other ideas.” Felix growls which was the first time she’s ever heard something like that from him.
“Woojin didn’t see omegas the same way as we do.” Hyunjin watches the omega like beta. “He was very much not accepting of how Felix is when he finally had the confidence to explain his omega tendencies to us.”
Y/n grabs the other omega’s hand for both his and hers comfort. 
“We also saw it very quickly as he had started treating Lix poorly.” Jeongin grits his teeth. “Was treating him as though he wasn’t a person and we couldn’t accept that.”
“I understand that.” She whispers looking down at her and Felix’s intertwined hands. 
All of their hearts break hearing her words. 
“Innie was a late presenter and was a pretty fresh alpha at the time.” Minho pulls the youngest to him. “Because of it he was still learning but he knew to be protective of Lix as though he was his omega and it caused a nasty fight to break out.”
“We knew we couldn’t keep someone like him around.” Chan’s fist is clenched on the table. “We told him he had to leave which caused an even worse fight.”
“There was blood.” Jisung shudders. “And later we found out he had assaulted someone in town.”
“That’s why we keep his room off limits.” Seungmin motions upstairs. “Whatever he left and any photos with him in it the alphas packed up in boxes and left them in there.”
“After that we all agreed for our sake that eight is fate.” Hyunjin whispers. “Why Minnie and I weren’t happy about your presence here. We were afraid of something like that again. Getting attached just for you to do something to hurt us and leave.”
Y/n nods in understanding, unsure what to even say after hearing all of that as she’s still looking down at hers and Felix’s hands. She tried to speak a few times, opening her mouth only for nothing to be said.
Chan gets up and walks over to her chair pulling it out a bit so he can kneel in front of her. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby girl?”
“A lot.” She mumbles looking at him. “Everything you guys had said as well as me trying to figure out how to tell you my situation.”
“You don’t have to tell us yet if you aren’t ready.” 
“No.” She shakes her head. “You guys need to know.”
“Are you sure?” Felix squeezes her hand. 
She nods and Jisung scoots over to the empty chair on his other side so Chan can take his seat to be next to the omega. 
“Like Innie, I presented late.” She sighs. “My family consists of mostly betas. The only alphas being my grandfather, uncle and youngest cousin. I’m the only omega in several generations in the whole pack. Both my parents, older brother and four younger siblings are all betas. As well as the rest of my aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Most other pack members are betas with the occasional alpha.We all originally thought I was one too until I was seventeen and had my first heat. Even before then though I was treated differently.”
“My grandfather is the pack alpha. I was the oldest girl so there were a lot of expectations put on me that I was never able to meet. From a young age, every family or pack event I was the one to do everything. Clean, help cook, set everything up while all the other kids got to play. They would tell me to do several things at the same time and if I didn’t get something done in the time they wanted because I was doing the other stuff first I was reprimanded and punished. If my older brother tried to help me I was reprimanded or punished for putting my load on him instead of just doing it myself.”
“What would they do?” Jisung asks, leaning his head on Chan's arm. 
“At first it was just more chores that would just get stupider, like dust underneath of the dining table or not let me play with the other kids at all or say I didn’t deserve presents on Christmas and my birthday.” She sighs. “As I got older it became I wasn’t allowed to eat or no one was to talk to me for the whole day. Then it was all of that and I was locked in the basement away from everyone for a few hours. Nothing to really physically harm me as my grandfather wanted to look good as the pack alpha.”
Chan looks down at her still slightly bruised wrist with a raised brow. “I’ll get to that.” She whispers. “Everyone in our pack lived in the neighborhood so we were to always put on an act that we were the perfect family.” Y/n couldn’t help but to chuckle as she shook her head. “But we were far from that. My older brother never wanted to come around so my family would use the excuse of how hardworking he is, being busy with school and work. My parents separated and my dad left the pack and mated with an alpha female ten years younger than him and had my four younger siblings. My mom was a verbally, emotionally and mentally abusive alcoholic and anytime she fucked up, pissing her parents off they took it out on me. Would ignore me for weeks or months until I apologized, for I never even knew what, just for it to happen again not long after. Would “forget” to pick me up from school, leaving me there after they’d get my cousins. Prioritized everything my cousins had over anything I had. The worst having been the first time she went to rehab when I was fourteen.”
The omega takes in a deep breath as Felix pulls her closer to him for comfort and Chan places a hand on her thigh. “When I presented my family’s first reaction was to find a doctor who would administer the suppressant injections. The pack didn’t know and they were gonna make sure it stayed that way so every month, on the first, I was taken to that doctor to get the injection done. Wasn’t pleasant, it was painful, felt like it was burning in my veins for the first twenty four hours. I still went to school and graduated high school, even took a year of college. My mom was the main one who kept my food intake restricted to protein shakes and salads. Said that if I ate anything other than that then I would start to become curvier like an omega and they couldn’t have that. She got worse and she went to rehab for the second time when I was nineteen. Then again when I was twenty, then twenty two.”
“And again last week.” The boys were all shocked by this as their eyes widened. “My grandparents said I should stay with them while she's there since my older brother is nowhere to be found. Well at least that’s what they think, he was fed up with them and our mom that he moved to the northern side of Seoul and cut contact with all of them, but I’m the only one who knows that as he’s only kept in contact with me for the last year. He had tried to stay around as long as he could for my sake but he just couldn’t. I don't blame him. I should have realized that staying with my grandparents was a bad idea… They treated me as their maid and slave. I was fed up after the first day and told them I was going back to my house, that I’d be fine by myself. My grandfather said I don’t get to talk to them like that and how I’m a spoiled little bitch that they’ve been going easy on. How they’ve been so nice to me to help keep the illusion that I’m a beta but what they were telling me to do was how an actual omega is to be treated and I should act like one. I yelled at them about how they hate me being an omega and won’t let me be my true self so why would they treat me as such now?”
“That really pissed my grandfather off since he grabbed my wrist as hard as he could, dragging me across the house before… throwing me down the basement stairs. He continued to yell at me as I had gotten up trying to run up the stairs and maybe get past him but he blocked my exit causing me to run into him. After I fell back onto the top step he kicked me in the ribs pushing me down the concrete stairs again, hitting every step on the way down to the bottom. He shut and locked the door and turned the power off down there.” Y/n could feel how angry they all are at this point, the alphas growling softly, the betas clenching their fists, jaws locked, and Felix is now holding her protectively. “Even though I couldn’t see I could feel the bruising and the gash on my arm bleeding. I was kept down there for three days in complete darkness, with nothing to eat or drink. The day you found me was my aunt's birthday so they were letting me out to set up and prepare for it. It was the only opportunity I had so as soon as I was let upstairs I ran for it out the door, only able to grab my car keys on my way out. They yelled at me that if I leave then to never come back, saying that the family and pack would be better off without me. I drove as far as I could with what gas I had left. I thought about going to my brothers but I knew I didn’t even have enough gas to make it to the city or any money to get more. So when my car dinged in need of gas I pulled over as the first public place I saw.”
“The park.” Jisung is in tears as he clings onto Chan and Y/n nodes as she can feel Felix shaking as he holds her, knowing he’s also crying as he buries his face in her neck.
“What would you have done if we hadn’t been there?” Chan grips her thigh. 
“I honestly don’t know.” She whispers and grabs his hand trying to hold back her own tears.
“What do you wanna do now?” Minho hugs Jisung from behind as he leans over to look at her. “If you wish, we can take you to your brother's place.”
“Minho?” Jeongin lowly growls. 
“No Innie, he’s right.” Changbin sighs. “We said it was up to you, pretty girl. If you want to stay you’re welcome to but we aren’t going to force you. So we can take you to your brother if that’s what you want.”
“But you have to promise to keep in touch with us if you do.” Hyunjin smiles at her.
“You guys truly want me to stay?” She looks at each of them in hope. “All of you?”
They all nod in agreement giving a course of ‘yes’s’.
“Then I’d like to please stay.” She whispers and they all sigh in relief. “Is there any chance I’d be able to call my brother though, so I can tell him what happened and that I’m alright?”
“Of course, baby girl.” Chan lifts her chin to look at him. “Just let one of us know when and you can use our phones to do so.”
“We need to take you to get clothes here soon, while we do that we can get you a new phone set up too.” Jeongin stands up and comes around to pull her from Felix to hug her. “That way you will be able to stay in contact with him. You’re safe now, we promise that you’ll never have to go back to your grandparents again. You’re a part of our pack now.”
“Thank you.” She tears up.
Tag list: @pixie0627 @sinfulfic @estella-novella @mbioooo0000 @ms-flowergirl
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amorisxx · 21 hours ago
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Snickerdoodle pt. iv
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pairing: Art Donaldson x reader, Patrick Zweig x reader, Tashi Duncan x reader summary: Art comes out of retirement to test out his coaching skills. Your relationship with him continues to spiral. warnings: smut 18+, cheating, divorce, rough sex, piv, marijuana use, slight angst, hastily proofread word count: 7.7K divider by @cafekitsune <3 prev part
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃
Kaleb decides he wants to play tennis. Or that he wants to “get serious” about it. He’d done tennis camp every summer along with soccer camp, and he’d enjoyed it enough. But for some reason, he’s determined to be a tennis player now. You blame it on how much time he’s been spending around the Donaldson’s. Between the various play dates and carpooling, he and Lily have been attached at the hip.
The two of you are enjoying a quiet evening  on a weeknight when he brings it up. 
“Lily doesn’t really like tennis,” he tells you in between bites of mashed potatoes. 
“Well that’s okay. Sometimes our friends end up having different hobbies,” you say.
“Hm,” he puts his finger to his chin, “kinda like you and Mr. Art?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well he’s like the greatest tennis player ever,” he says, spreading his arms out wide. “But you’re terrible at tennis. And you guys are friends right?”
His assertion has you placing your fork down. “Okay, first of all, I’m not terrible at tennis. Secondly, it’s really not fair to compare me to a professional tennis player, K, he’s had years of practice.” Then, you reluctantly think of the last thing he said. About the two of you being friends. 
Images of Art kneeling above you in bed dance through your mind. You think of the last time you were with him. How he’d laid his cheek on your thigh while you threaded your fingers through his tufts of blonde hair. His gaze searing as he watched you in all your post-orgasmic bliss. Your chest was still heaving as you tried to recover.  
You clear your throat. 
“Yeah, um, I guess we are friends.” You avoid eye contact with Kaleb and pray he changes the subject. You don’t want to think about Art. 
Unfortunately, your son is too young to properly read the room. If he was, he’d see the way you’re clenching your fork in your fist. Or he would’ve realized by now that his mom is a harlot. Instead of calling you out on your immorality, he turns to you with express earnestness. “I wanna play tennis like Mr. Art,” he says definitively.
He then furrows his little eyebrows and asks you, “you think I can be as good as him one day?”
You smile, reach over to smooth your palm over his curls, and tug his ear. You say what every parent would. “I think you can do whatever you put your mind to, my little monkey.” 
He grins at you, dimple poking out.
After all, you’re almost certain this is just an eager phase prompted by Lily bringing Tashi to school for career day. Tashi mentioned to you that Kaleb was very eager to ask questions about her job. Apparently, he thought it was super cool that she “got to coach the best tennis players in the world.” You’re worried that before dinner is over he might ask you to put in a word with her about coaching him. 
Once you’ve finished eating, tucked Kaleb in, and tidied up the kitchen, you finally get to relax with a cup of lavender chamomile tea.
Before you settle into the refuge of your bed, you make a note to sign Kaleb up for club tennis. 
You’re at a gas station near Kaleb’s school when you realize your dumb credit card has a faulty chip. You grab your purse and lock the doors to your car, having been forced to go inside the store and pay for your gas the old fashioned way. 
The door shuts behind you with a ring of a bell. The unmistakable smell of fuel fills your nostrils as it mixes with stale coffee and the emblematic stench of small convenience stores. You grumble when you see there’s a short line. 
With a sigh, you take a detour down one of the narrow aisles to grab a pack of gum. You pick out a random pack of spearmint, but your inner child lingers on the yellow packaging of juicy fruit bubble gum sitting beside it. When you were little, your mom would’ve made you pick one of the other. Without a second thought, you pluck the yellow pack out from the shelf and head back towards the front. 
On your walk back, you glance out the windows, checking to make sure the pump you’re parked at is still number 5. 
The line is shorter now. There’s only two people. You think you recognize the dark head of the person standing at the counter. They’re digging through the back pocket of their jeans and pulling out a leather wallet when your cellphone dings. It’s an email notification from your boss. You read the subject header before dropping the phone back into your purse, hoping to avoid whatever stressor awaits you there for a couple more hours or so. When you look back up, you’re met with the face of the dark haired stranger. 
His eyes meet yours. Patrick Zweig sends you a mischievous smile of recognition as he saunters toward you. He snaps his fingers. “I know you.”
“Hi, Patrick,” you say through your tight smile. The last time you’d seen him, he tried to blackmail you into going out with him. If he wasn’t so attractive, you’d probably be repulsed by him. 
“Long time no see.” He pockets his package of Marlboros. “How you been?”
“Um just busy you know,” you hum. “You?” 
He nods. “Same, same.” He looks you over, smile growing wider when he meets your eyes after lingering on your cleavage. He doesn’t even attempt to be discreet. 
You scoff, rolling your eyes to the side.
Thankfully, the bald guy in front of you finishes up his transaction so you have an excuse to say “excuse me” to Patrick as you approach the register. You glance back when you hand your money to the bored cashier, catching one last glimpse of Patrick as he exits through the door. You nibble on the inside of your cheek, feeling the tiniest hint of disappointment. 
You accept your change and two packs of gum and make your way back to your car. Not wanting to waste any more time at this point, you toss the plastic bag into the passenger seat and hurry to pump your gas.  
You’re leaning against the trunk while the fuel fills your tank when you hear a small “hey.” 
You’re startled as Patrick approaches you again. You look around suspiciously. “Um are you stalking me?” 
“No.” He huffs out a laugh. “I was standing over there taking a smoke.” He points towards his beat up suv. You wonder why he doesn’t have a better car. You thought tennis players made money. “And I saw you. Didn’t get to say goodbye earlier.” 
You click your tongue. “Well, bye.” 
“Wait—I hope I didn’t rub you the wrong way last time.” He rubs his palm over the back of his neck. “I kind of have a fucked up sense of humor.” 
“It wasn’t the joke,” you supply. “It was more so you trying to blackmail me into going on a date with you.” 
He laughs. “Yeah, I don’t know why that didn’t work.” The grin he gives you sends a shiver down your spine. 
This time, you smirk, your gaze tracing the length of his body, from his Nikes to the curly wisps of hair flying in the wind. The gas pump clicks, signifying that your tank is full. You don’t remove it right away because you’re busy letting Patrick type his number into your phone. You wish you could say you played hard to get, but that would be a lie of monumental magnitude. 
You don’t actually intend to call him, content to let his number go forgotten in your phone. After all, what type of woman would get involved with the best friend of the man she’s having an affair with? 
Later on, when you’re having a glass of wine, mommy duties complete for the night, you pause on his number as you tap through your phone. You inhale, take a sip from your glass, and quickly save his contact before swiping out of the app. You can blame it on your being slightly tipsy when you notice that he’s saved as “for a rainy day.” 
It turns out that the tennis thing isn’t just a phase. You don’t mind of course. You’d always support your kid in whatever he pursued. The only issue is that Art fucking Donaldson thought it would be a good idea to train little Kaleb. As if you needed more reasons to be around the man. 
You’d told him that you didn’t think it was necessary because your son was only eight years old. Surely, he wouldn’t need a retired professional tennis player to train him. His tennis lessons at the local club would certainly suffice. Plus, you imagined he had more important things to attend to than give private lessons to a third grader. 
On a random weeknight, you’d gone to pick Kaleb up from a play date with Lily, hoping to grab him and get back home before the rain got any worse. Art had greeted you at the door, placing a hand on the small of your back. 
He decided to bring up the topic again. Even Tashi, who was usually busy with training of her own, chimed in, claiming it would be a good opportunity for Art to find real meaning in tennis again. Whatever that meant. Patrick, who you had been avoiding thinking about, once again inserted himself into a conversation, pointing out how young he and Art were when they first started playing tennis. According to him, it was never too early to learn how to properly hit a ball with a racket. 
The thought of Art spending time with Kaleb through tennis is an endearing one if you’re being honest with yourself. But you know you would have an intense fight on your hands should Chris find out. 
Ever since Art had stepped in with your ex at the fall festival, he’d harbored an attitude toward him. He’d gone as far as complaining about all the time Kaleb spent at his house, accusing you of trying to turn your son against him. If it weren’t for the court mandated visits, you’d have simply told Chris to go to hell. But in an attempt to maintain peace for your son’s sake, you reassured him that Kaleb only spent so much time around Art because Lily was his best friend. 
You asked him if it was worth destroying his son’s friendship. He conceded for the time being, but you’re sure if he found out about any extra tennis lessons, he’d blow a gasket. 
Ironically, you had never been offered the freedom to express such possessiveness. You had to be content each and every time your son stayed at his father’s new house with his new fiancée that you barely knew anything about. You handle some occasions better than others. 
This time, though, when you watch Kaleb go through the front door of their luxurious home, Spider-Man backpack affixed on his back, your stomach churns. Chris’ fiancée smiles and waves to you with her left hand. Bitterly, you think it’s a miracle she can even lift it with the large diamond wrapped around her finger. She places her hand on your son’s shoulder, pulling him into their home, as if she wasn’t the one that helped wreck yours. 
Maybe it’s the fact that this past week would’ve been your anniversary, but your shoulders shake with sobs throughout the entire drive home. You sniffle as you think about Kaleb building a life with his soon to be step-mom. You hope she treats him right, but, ultimately, you wish he didn’t have to know her at all. 
It doesn’t help that you aren’t able to bury your sorrows in Art’s chest or on his dick. He’d already told you about the gala he’d be attending that weekend for the Donaldson Foundation. You haven’t seen him since last weekend, and you ache to call him, but the thought makes you feel nauseous when you think about the wretched irony of seeking comfort in a married man. In a decision that’s almost homogeneously pathetic, you sit in your lonely driveway and send a “hey” to ‘for a rainy day.’
It doesn’t take long for Patrick to offer to come over. You send him your location as you pop open a bottle of wine. 
You reach for a glass, your eagerness causing you to apply too much force as you slam the glass down. It breaks under the pressure of your haste, immediately cracking at the stem. The inconvenience is too much for you. You curse before bringing the entire bottle up to your mouth. You take a swig, red liquid spilling out of the corner of your mouth. With a gasp, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Pitifully, your vision starts to blur again as your eyes swell up with hot tears. You resort to sitting on the kitchen floor, taking the occasional drink, and wallowing in your despair. 
You’re propped against the cabinet, knees to your chest as you cradle the green tinted bottle of red wine like a toddler holding a stuffed animal, when you hear your doorbell ring. You stumble to your feet, dragging them as you move toward the door. When you swing the door open, Patrick is standing there with his hands in his pockets. He looks you over once, mumbling that you “look like shit” before stepping into your home as if he’d been there a thousand times. 
He lifts his eyebrows when he sees the neglected pieces of glass on your counter. He looks back at the bottle in your fist before groaning. “Please don’t tell me you’re an alcoholic.” 
You roll your eyes. “No, I’m just having a pretty shitty day.” 
“No shit,” he snorts. 
You send him a glare. “I don’t even know why I called you,” you say and rub your temples. 
“Because I’m obviously easy and you know it.” He smirks. 
It makes you laugh, your red, puffy eyes squinting back at him. 
Patrick eventually convinces you to smoke the joint he’d brought with him. You haven’t gotten high in years, and you find yourself mindlessly rambling about your life as you pass the joint back and forth to him. You’d stopped crying a while ago, your eyes now red because of the weed. 
You and Patrick are lounging on the floor of your living room. You’re dragging your fingers through the shag rug underneath you and leaning your head back on the sofa when you hear him laugh. He sounds like he’s far away, down through a tunnel, but when you turn your head, his face is right beside you. 
“What’s funny?” You grunt. 
He shakes his head. “S’nothing.” 
You frown and shove his bicep. “Tell me,” you say, scooting closer to him. “I hate feeling left out.” 
His smile falters for a second like he’s remembering something, but when you blink he’s sporting a melancholic grin. “It’s just—you kind of remind me a lot of Art.” His head falls to the side to really look at you. “I mean not like completely, and not really how he is now, but when you’re upset—it reminds me of when we were teenagers.” 
“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not,” you say. It comes out as a whisper. Your faces are so close that you don’t want to startle him. 
“Hm.” His eyes flicker to your lips. “Not a good or bad thing. Just a thing.” 
“That’s why you like me?” You mumble teasingly. “Because I remind you of your boyfriend?” 
He smirks, lips so close to yours you feel his breath fan them. “Who said I liked you?” 
“You don’t have to.” You’re just the slightest movement away from kissing him. If you tilt your head just the tiniest bit—
He lets out an almost imperceptible moan when he finally presses his lips to yours. It’s so quiet, you think you might’ve imagined it. It all happens incredibly fast, but feels like slow motion. Your head is fuzzy and your body is tingling as Patrick grabs your waist, hoisting you onto his lap. It takes you a moment to build momentum, your sensory overload working against you.
When you’re finally able to match his energy, the kiss is searing. He’s sucking your lip into his mouth like you’re already his, hands roaming everywhere he can get them. When he bites your bottom lip, you suck in a breath, giving him room to thrust his tongue into your mouth. You mewl at the way your mouths seem to fit together like velcro. Your toes curl and you tighten your fists into his dark locks when you feel his hot tongue traveling down your throat, leaving white hot bites that feel like being branded. His teeth sting and your cunt throbs as you impulsively rut against his length. 
Patrick rubs his large palm over your ass before abruptly smacking it, making you release an embarrassingly airy moan. His teeth tug on your earlobe. “You like that?” 
You only nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 
“Hmm?” He mumbles into your neck, continuing to lave over the skin behind your ear. His hand comes down on your ass again, harder this time. 
You let out a pathetic squeal and slam your hips down against him in search of some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. “Oh god—please fuck me—“
His mouth meets yours again. You can barely kiss him properly, panting about needing him to fuck you right now. 
He really is easy, you think, but it’s not like you have room to talk.
The first time Patrick Zweig sinks his cock into you, you’re on your knees, face pressed against your rug. The slam of his hips threaten to take your breath away as tears cling to your eyelashes. He’s rough, possessively grabbing your flesh with no regard for potential damage. When he experimentally grips your hair in his hand, tugging your head back gently, you see stars behind your clamped eyelids.
Patrick nearly whimpers at the way it makes you arch your back into his thrusts with increasing intensity. He groans something about you being a slut and fists your hair with less restraint. Your walls clench around him when he wraps his hand around your throat, pulling you to his chest. 
He grunts into your ear. “I knew you liked it rough, could tell from the first time I saw you.” 
The tears have started to spill now. Whether it’s from the humiliation or the utter ecstasy, you aren’t sure. All you know is that you almost sob when Patrick drags his tongue alongside your face, collecting the salty tears.
He buries himself inside you for a second time no more than twenty minutes after you’ve both cum. You gasp and claw at his back as his body presses you into your couch cushions.
You have to admit that Patrick knows how to fuck. Knows how to read your body, tapping into just the right frequency to get you off. 
It’s obvious that you’ve been craving this type of treatment from the way you’re responding to him. But you’re sure that he must have a sexual sixth sense because in the midst of fucking you wildly, he grabs your ankle that’s dangling by his ear, turns his head, and plants a sweet kiss to the bone. It makes you melt into the sofa. 
He leans down to shove his tongue into your open mouth. Softly pats your cheek, relishing in your cock drunk state. 
“Does he fuck you like this?” He murmurs into your neck.
You don’t have to ask who he’s talking about. 
“Huh?” He prods. 
You choke down a moan. “Better. He—“ You cry out when you feel him start rubbing harsh circles into your clit. “He fucks me better.” 
He huffs out a laugh through his smile, but his hips slam down harder as if he’s determined to change your answer. In less than a minute, you’re biting down on his shoulder when you feel another orgasm rack through your body. 
You take a longer break this time. Stopping to pour yourself a real glass of wine. One with its stem intact. Patrick lazily inhales from a cigarette as he watches you, with hooded eyes, attempt to hold a throw blanket over your bare torso. In contrast, he nonchalantly spreads his thighs over your couch, body on full display. 
His eyes leisurely meet yours. They shine prettily in the dim lighting of your home. His dark lashes flutter on each drag of his cig and it makes the corner of your mouth curve up when you take a sip. The lamps have cast a cozy shade of amber over the room. It blankets Patrick’s skin in a golden aura reminiscent of something being baked in an oven. 
Patrick reminds you of the gingerbread man, you think. It makes you press the tips of your fingers to your lips to stifle a giggle. 
He tilts his head at your odd behavior, but he assumes the weed must still be affecting you. 
Once you’ve placed your glass on the coffee table, and he’s put out his cigarette, Patrick is pulling you by the ankle, tossing your blanket to the side and kissing his way down your abdomen. 
You yelp when he captures one of your hard nipples in his mouth but let him press his hot kisses into your skin nonetheless. 
You end up cumming for the third time that night with his head buried between your legs. 
Patrick leaves while you’re asleep. 
When you wake up around 3am to an empty house, you think it’s for the best. You check your phone. You have a missed call from “a.d.” and a text from Patrick that says “had fun” with a winking emoji. You don’t respond to either, instead, opting to pad your bare feet to the bathroom. You desperately need a shower.
In the morning, you tidy up your home from the events of the night before, cringing at what took place on the terracotta colored sofa.
When the buzzing in your head doesn’t stop after cleaning your entire living room from top to bottom, you find yourself in the kitchen, pulling out ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies. 
You’re frantically kneading dough when the doorbell rings. You frown, not expecting company, but clean your hands as best you can as you make your way to open the door. Sometimes, your talkative neighbor, Mrs. Taylor, likes to come knocking on your door early in the mornings. 
You’re surprised to find that Art is standing on the other side with a latte and a bag containing a chocolate croissant. You assume it’s for you. He places his things down on the table by the door, the one that holds your catch all tray, and scoops you up into a hug. 
He groans into it, making you smile. “Hi,” you mumble into his chest. 
“Hi, pretty girl,” his voice comes out equally mumbled. “Missed you.” You can hear the grin in his tone. It makes your heart clench. 
You allow yourself to hold onto him, despite the ever present worry that you should be reining yourself in when it comes to him. He moves to let you go, grabbing your face in his palm and kissing the side of your head. You whine and lock your arms around his waist in protest. You inhale his scent, all warm and familiar. You’ve missed him. 
“Baby,” he laughs into your hair. You grunt, squeezing him tighter. “Okay, c’mere.” He pulls you into him, securely engulfing you in his arms. “I got you, I got you.” 
You eventually release him long enough to walk into your home. 
You’re relieved that you’d been overtaken by a cleaning spell this morning because you fear that Art might take one glance at your couch and figure out who had been here. That he’d smell him in the air. 
You’re afraid he might’ve detected it anyway when he freezes in the walkway separating your kitchen from the living room. You nibble on your lip as you try to search his body for any signs that he’s onto you. 
To your relief, Art is actually focused on the copious amounts of cookie dough you have on the counter of your kitchen island. He turns to you with the all knowing look of a father, his eyes creased with concern. “Oh no, what happened?” 
After a therapy session in which you decide to stop letting your ex influence your decisions from afar, you finally relent, allowing Art to begin practicing with Kaleb on their private tennis court. It seems like since you got involved with their family, that’s all you ever do, give in to everyone’s requests. In any other context, it would be disturbing, but the sight of Kaleb racing to the court with an oversized tennis bag fills you with joy. The bag threatens to pull him down, but his excitement keeps him upright as he makes a beeline for Art. 
You don’t know who’s more excited to see Art between the two of you. Your son’s tennis instructor waves at you from across the court. And you have to fight the rush that flows through you, threatening to cut off your oxygen, and give a simple wave in return. It makes you feel like a kid with a fervent crush. You could gag.
You remind yourself that you’re here for Kaleb. Not you.
You think that as long as you get to see him happy like that, you’d agree to anything. It’s a scary notion, but becoming a mom has made you aware of a lot of terrifying realities. 
It’s this maternal need to preserve your son’s happiness that leads you to another prolonged encounter with Tashi Duncan. She’d caught you when you were dropping him off for tennis lessons one day. Apparently, she had a free day. Lily was spending the day with her grandparents, and Patrick is, thankfully, nowhere to be found. You try to hide your relief when she tells you that. You don’t think you can face him right now. 
She insists you join her in their sunroom while the boys practice. You try to think of an excuse to turn her down, but you decide your karma from sleeping with her husband has built up too much to take the chance of tacking on more. So, when she offers to make you a cup of tea, you oblige and sink down into the fabric of a warm sofa.
When Tashi reappears, she sits down with a cup of steaming hot tea for the both of you. You thank her with a smile, letting your eyes trail over her figure. She looks ethereal. The sunlight pouring through the glass forms a halo of light around her, illuminating her like a Madonna painting. She has her hair pulled back into a low ponytail that causes her to have to tuck the loose strands behind her ear every now and then. The motion makes you take notice of her slim neck and the way her collarbones dip into her loose-fitted button down. Even dressed casually, she looks like a goddess. 
You feel your heart start to beat a little faster and reach to take a sip of your tea. You wonder how she knew that lavender chamomile was one of your favorites.
It’s only awkward for a moment because the two of you quickly fall into a conversation about what she’s missed now that Art has taken over attending the PTA meetings. That’s how you’d initially met her. She had actually been the one who you exchanged communication with about carpool and play dates. Art’s retirement allowed her to focus on tennis and other aspects of raising Lily that she preferred. You giggle when she admits that she never really liked those meetings anyway. You don’t tell her that you always had that inkling. 
When you mention that Cynthia is still advertising her knitting business at every single meeting, she sucks in a laugh before leaning toward you. She presses her lips together, holding in her giggle. “Guess what?”
You squint at her, your expression already anticipating a joke. “What?” You all but sputter out. 
“I’m probably responsible for like half the sales on her Etsy shop.” She says like she’s admitting to something top secret. It’s a lot like the expression Lily takes on when her and Kaleb are playing “secret agent.”
“Girl, what?” You didn’t think she’d be a fan of crocheted animal figures. 
“I ordered one for my mom for Mother’s Day,” she explains. “She fell in love with the thing I swear, thought it looked just like her little Yorkie, next thing you know she’s asking for the link to share with all her friends.” 
You’re snickering into your mug imagining Tashi unintentionally being Cynthia’s best saleswoman.
She smiles at you. “I’m serious. Apparently, amigurumi is the new thing. It’s gonna be flying off the shelves. That’s why I had to go ahead and put in my order.”
“Of course you know the official term.” You toss your head back. “What’s yours look like?” 
“It’s a little tabby cat,” she smiles wistfully. “Like the one I had growing up. Her name was Aphrodite.” 
It’s a fitting name.
You’re biting back a grin as you take a sip from your tea. You sigh at the taste. “How’d you know what type of tea I liked?” You ask absentmindedly. 
“Art mentioned it to me.” 
You freeze. “Art?” 
“Yeah he says you like to make it before bed. Now, he’s hooked on it.” 
All the blood in your body rushes to your head. You feel that unwelcome yet proverbial sinking in your gut. You think you might start projectile vomiting.
“Are you okay?”
You don’t respond. It’s hard to speak when you feel like you’re dangling upside down on a roller coaster.
“Wait… you didn’t think I knew did you?”
For some unintelligent reason, you decide to play stupid. Usually, in times of danger, humans resort to fight, flight, or freeze. You choose fucking idiot. “Knew what?”
“That you’re fucking my husband.” Tashi says quite unceremoniously.
“What—what do you mean?” You squeak out.
“Don’t.” She laughs. “I’ve known the whole time.” 
“How?” Your voice is shrinking smaller and smaller to your ears. The sound of Tashi’s voice, her pert laughter, drowning it out.
“Art tells me everything.”
“And you’re okay with it?” You attempt to ask though you can barely hear it.
You know your question reaches her ears because she shakes her head and tells you, “I suggested it.” 
Your eyes go wide. Her divulgence seems to propel you forward on your metaphorical roller coaster. In a snap, it brings you out of your stupor.
“I told Art that he should fuck you.” She says it like it’s nothing. Like it’s as simple as telling him to pick up some carry out on the way home. 
You’re confused, and your head is starting to hurt from the whiplash, and you wish this ride would end already. “I’m—I’m not sure I understand what’s going on here.”
“Okay, well, Art’s been attracted to you since the day he met you,” she says plainly. “But he’d never actually do anything about it because that’s just who he is. He needed that push—“
“That push?”
She nods. “He needed to know he could do it and everything would be fine. He’s still figuring out how to be open to stuff like this.” She explains, gestures vaguely in the air. “He’d never break up what seemed like a happy marriage, but when it was clear that your marriage was far from happy…well he started to warm up to the idea.”
“What do you mean far from happy?” The shock has you feeling unreasonably defensive.
“Clearly something was off. You never seemed happy with him. You’ve said it yourself that he was a dick.”
“Um—okay, well, I’d say something has to be off if you’re coaching your husband into sleeping with unsuspecting women.” You shoot back. Your gaze is sharp and accusatory.
She lets her eyes fall down to her lap, picking at little buds of lint being exposed by the sun’s glow. “You’re right, something was off between us,” she says like it’s something in the past. Like maybe they’re good now, but at one time they weren’t. “But Art knows how I feel about him.” Then, her gaze returns to you. “Something tells me your husband either didn’t know or didn’t care.”
Her comment strikes a nerve. Chris did know something was off, and she was right, he didn’t care. He made you feel like needing more from him made you selfish. As if the reminder of the vows he made to you was an affront to him. He knew you were unhappy. That you felt ignored. But he didn’t care. When you’d served him the divorce papers, you naively thought that he’d realize what he might lose, that he might beg for your forgiveness, promise to be better. Instead, you watched him sign the document in the same way he’d signed receipts for dinner before closing the tab and tucking the pen inside. 
You think you envy her. Because she has a husband that actually doesn’t want to leave her. 
“Hey.” She grabs your attention. Her voice softens when she sees your glassy eyes peering back at her. “I’m not judging you. I’m just trying to offer an explanation.” 
You work to swallow down the onslaught of emotions threatening to rise up like bile. You release a fractured noise from your throat, letting the revelation fully soak in. “So you really knew this whole time then? Or rather you orchestrated it?” 
“Okay, that’s a little extreme,” she says. “When we found out you were getting divorced, I mentioned to Art that he should pursue you. That’s all.” She shrugs. “I never knew if he’d actually do it or when he’d do it. All I know is that the first night he came home smelling like you, he fucked me like he did when I first agreed to be his tennis coach.” 
“Then, he was constantly meeting up with you or staying to talk after PTA meetings,” her fingers curl to form quotations around the word, talk. “But I knew what was up.” She bites her lip. “It was honestly kind of hot.” 
You frown. The thought of him sleeping with her immediately after being with you has your stomach in knots. The worst part is that you can’t stop wondering if he’d showered first. If he’d cleaned himself up or if he’d went straight to her, buried himself inside her, cock still sticky with your fluids. In a way, it’s like you had also been inside her. If you think about it long enough, you can imagine what it must feel like. So, you don’t think about it. Instead, you fix your gaze on the golden pothos plant sitting on top a table to your right. The tapping of your nail against the ceramic mug fills the silence. 
She gives you a questioning look. 
Ignoring the implications of what she just told you, you settle for the anger you’re feeling instead of dwelling on any confusing arousal. “Do you not realize how fucked up this is, Tashi?”
“Excuse me?” 
“Yeah! It’s fucked!” You throw your hands up. “I mean I’ve been running around feeling guilty, thinking I was a fucking homewrecker while the two of you get off on a cheating kink!”
She can tell you have more to say, so she leans back and lets you go on.
“I mean how could you do that? I was fucking depressed.”
She snorts. “Not so depressed that it ruined your libido. You two have been going at it like rabbits.” Her smirk makes your cheeks burn. 
You place your mug down onto the table. “Wow. You know what?” You’re on the edge of the couch now, body rigid. “You and Art can go fuck yourselves! This is seriously messed up.”
She raises her eyebrows. “As messed up as you fucking another woman’s husband?” 
Her words drip with mirth, and it pisses you off that the fiery look in her eyes is poking at a budding desire in your belly. “This is ridiculous,” you mumble to yourself. You’d rather focus all your energy on being outraged than interrogate why this is kind of turning you on. You’re about to stand up to leave when she places a hand on your arm.
“Are you seriously mad right now?” She asks you. 
An incredulous look takes over your face. “What do you think?” You spit out.
“Well, would you have preferred I not know?” She asks as if you’re the crazy one here.
“I—“ you squeeze your eyes shut, and try to gather your thoughts. “Obviously not, Tashi.” You glance up to the glass paned ceiling. “I just—it would’ve been nice to know what was really going on. I mean he never even told me that you knew.”
“Well, did you ask?” She asks simply. 
Did you? You think back to the past couple of months. The more you and Art hooked up, the more you avoided directly mentioning Tashi. He didn’t bring her up more than what was necessary, so you suspected he was actively trying to keep it from her. 
To be fair, he did mention a couple of times that he’d told Tashi you two were going to meet up for lunch, but you thought he must’ve been leaving out the activities that followed. And if she happened to call him while the two of you were together, he would casually tell her he was with you. You obviously assumed he was downplaying your friendship because there was no way Art would be so nonchalant about a mistress. But, apparently, the word mistress didn’t even apply to you. 
“I mean, I guess I didn’t.” You stammer. “But I feel like that was on him to bring it up to me.”
“Well that’s where you went wrong. Art can get in his own way sometimes.” A pensive expression works it’s way onto her face. “Or maybe part of him did kind of get off on feeling like he was sneaking around.” The thought seems to bring a small smile to her face. 
It still doesn’t make sense to you. You try to tamper down the sinking feeling that you’ve been nothing more than a pawn. “I just don’t understand why you two couldn’t proposition me like a normal couple looking for a third,” you say.
“Who said you were our third?” 
“Oh, so there’s other women you’ve sent Art to fuck?”
“No. I—I don’t just pimp out my husband, okay?”
You back down.
“We already have a…third I guess.”
You look at her with furrowed brows. 
“Patrick.” She answers.
“Patrick? Like Patrick Patrick?”
She nods.
You laugh cynically. You didn’t think this situation could get any worse.
“I know.” She sighs. “I know how it seems—”
“Was that part of the plan too?” You’re out of breath, chest heaving. 
She looks genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” 
“Me and Patrick,” you blurt. 
“Wait a minute, you’re sleeping with Patrick?” She’s scooting closer to you. 
You shake your head. “It just happened once.” You think of how he’d shoved your face into the rug, fucking into you as he grunted out various obscenities. “I was high. I haven’t spoken to him since.”
She looks away for a moment, brows drawn together tightly. She’s piecing together what you’ve told her. 
“I—I didn’t know he was with you guys,” you try. 
She waves you off. “No, it’s not that.” She sits back. “I’m just not surprised that he wormed his way into your pants. He just couldn’t take that Art had something to himself.” She speaking to you, but her eyes are trained ahead. 
“So, you really didn’t set that up too?” You ask meekly. 
“God, no!” She says. “I had no idea.” 
You believe her. 
“Look I don’t care what type of weird shit you tennis players are into, if you guys have wild orgies or whatever. I just would’ve liked to have known that I wasn’t a hypocrite.”
“A hypocrite?”
You nod. “I mean I sit here and give my ex shit for cheating on me with that skinny ass whore from Modesto. Hell! That’s why I got so much fucking alimony.” You’re rambling now. “And, then, I go and let Art fucking Donaldson screw me and then send him back home to play loving father and husband like it’s nothing. God! And on top of it all, I also sleep with his best friend! I became the whore from Modesto.” 
Tashi’s watching you like you’re a kid experiencing big feelings.
“I felt like a home wrecker.” You sniff. “But apparently I’m actually not…because it was your idea, well only Art, not Patrick, and I—it’s all just fucking with my head.”
Tashi swallows. “I honestly thought you’d be relieved to find out.”
She looks at the frown on your face, takes in the way your plump bottom lip is jutting out. She reaches for your hand. “We’ve never really been the best at communicating. Me and Art. For the past year or so, we’ve gotten better at talking to each other, being honest about what we want, but we’re still working on doing that with other people I guess.” You let her thumb rub the back of your hand before you gently pull away. 
You grab your mug again. The handle is cold to the touch. 
“I promise we didn’t mean to fuck with you. Honestly, I think Art really likes you.” She offers you a small smile.
You look into your mug trying to still your reaction. You don’t care. 
Tashi’s gaze feels heavy on the side of your face as you feel her watching your expression. You start to fiddle with your watch. Checking for the time. Except your watch is too busy displaying your increased heart rate to offer the time. 
You sigh. 
She reaches out to you again, but this time she brings her hand up to your face, moving the curls falling down over your eyes. You let her nimble fingers caress your cheekbone before trailing down to your chin, guiding you to look at her. 
She gives you a steady, knowing smile. “You fell for him didn’t you?” 
Your cheeks go ablaze, and you try to look away from her. 
“Hey.” She grasps your chin in a firm, but gentle hold. “It’s okay.” She nods as if it’ll telepathically make you agree. 
You clear your throat. “I know you say that, but this is all new to me.” Your voice is slightly wobbly and you think you might cry. “I—I didn’t think it’d happen but it did. I thought I could get him out of my system but now,” you inhale and press two fingers against your neck, subconsciously trying to self-soothe. “Now, it’s like—it’s like I can’t stop.” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper. Like you’re afraid to admit the truth. 
And, really, you are afraid. You’re fucking terrified. 
You’re scared to fall in love with a man who already has one—two people in his life that he’s in love with. The last time you entrusted a man with your love, he was only meant to love you, and he couldn’t even give you that. 
What if you realize you’re absolutely enamored by Art Donaldson and he realizes the same thing Chris did? That there’s something about you that makes you unworthy of love. That the depth of you is as deep as your cunt goes and that’s it. 
What if he realizes that he already has what he needs in Tashi, even Patrick? What if they realize they actually aren’t willing to share?
You apparently voice the last bit aloud.
Tashi tilts her head, some of her strands have fallen loose again and she wears the prettiest pout on her lips. “Do you want me to prove it to you?” 
You gulp when her hand presses into your thigh, and she brings her face impossibly close to yours, forcing you to hold her gaze. “You want me to prove that I’m okay with it?” Her eyes flit between each one of yours with a level of seriousness you’d expect from someone like her. 
Her expression demands an answer, and so, you give a faint nod, transfixed on the woman in front of you. 
You gasp when you feel her mouth on yours. 
You learn that Tashi tastes sweet when she has her tongue in your mouth. You think you can taste the tartness of the lemon she’d sucked on earlier. It’s good, and you realize you’re fucked because you really like kissing her. 
Her tongue twirling around yours has you panting quietly, and you keen when you feel her manicured nails press into the nape of your neck. You haven’t kissed a woman since your last girlfriend in college, and you find you miss it. Something about it feels like drinking sweet tea on a hot summer day. Climbing into cool sheets at night when you’re bone tired. Or the feeling you get when you discover the song that you’re going to replay for the next week. 
It also makes you feel absurdly wet. 
The two of you work up a rhythm of pulling away for a breath before coming back together like magnets, letting your foreheads gently press together as you breathe deeply, thumbs caressing skin, eyelids fluttering. 
Your tongue is sweeping across Tashi’s lip, on a path to enter her mouth again, when you hear someone clear their throat. 
There’s an audible smack as you yank yourself from Tashi, eyes flying to the doorway of their sunroom. 
Art is standing there staring at you, gaze shifting from your face to the hand you still have placed on his wife’s neck. His jaw is clenched, and his bulge is painfully evident in his pants. 
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃
a/n: I've been waiting for this since the first post. Let me know how you feel about the reveal <3 as always, my asks are open!
130 notes · View notes
vrystalius · 2 days ago
Note
Trick or treat..?
I suppose it’s too late for that huhu😭 but may I please have your take on Sanemi taking care of a drunk s/o after a (halloween?) party?
Sanemi taking care of his drunk partner
He knew attending Tengen’s birthday part was a mistake. Sanemi never wanted to come in the first place!
Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader
Again, this absolutely beautiful banner was made by @erexart !! Please, please go check her out! She makes fanarts (remember boxer Sanemi?) and art including her ocs and characters like Kyojuro and Sanemi— I love her comics so much, they are so so cute and I love imagining my own oc in her place XD Anyways, thank you so much for requesting and making this beautiful banner for this fic!
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“Sanemiiii, you’re soo serious… lighten uppp, this a party, yeah?”
“Party’s over.”
Sanemi was steadily helping you to lean against his shoulder while his arms were wrapped beneath yours, trying to drag you down the streets, back to your home. He doesn’t step into the role of a caretaker often, but after watching you down drinks after drinks alongside the birthday-boy Uzui, he was already mentally preparing himself to finally pay you back for all the times you took care of him, physically and mentally. It’s the least he could do for you in his eyes, taking care of you while you are drunk. He had already stayed near you all evening, making sure that you don’t seriously overdo it and end up with alcohol poisoning, silently glaring at Tengen for again pouring you another drink. Sanemi was never fond of alcohol drinks and decided to stick to his green tea. Someone has to stay sober and make sure everyone is being responsible, right?
By the time you were stumbling away from the former sound hashira’s mansion, your husband steadied you carefully while you kept trying to wiggle out of his grasp, assuring him that you can totally walk on your own. Dragging you home and making sure that you don’t trip or decide that running off is a suitable option for you as well. You didn’t notice how Sanemi’s grip tightened on you as you complained about going home so soon, wanting to stay a little longer at the birthday party to celebrate more. By the time you two arrived back home, it was way past midnight. Your husband guided you to sit down while he prepared a small meal for you, scolding you to drink the glass of water he handed you slowly but surely, threatingly pointing his wooden spoon at you while standing by the stove.
“You’re so mean to meee! You’re lucky I like your pretty face.”
“Mhm, just drink your damn water.”
It’s a little ironic to him how Sanemi usually is spending his nights beating the shit out of demons, dragging himself home and almost falling asleep in the shower while you scrub his bloody back. Sometimes, despite how exhausted and how much you want to sleep right now, you still drag yourself to the kitchen and prepare a small meal for him so that he doesn’t have to go to bed hungry. You know that your husband would be too exhausted to make something himself, preferring to sleep. Despite how annoyed and pissed he seems with you right now because of how drunk you are, Sanemi still gladly takes care of you.
He always felt like he was taking more than he was giving in your relationship, taking your affections for granted, barely having any time for you due to his hashira duties and never really acknowledging how much you are doing for him. While holding the glass of water to your lips you still haven’t finished, his fingers carefully brushing over your rosy cheeks as a way to gently coax you into finally drinking at least a little bit of water. The quick meal he whipped up wasn’t anything too fancy, Sanemi feeding you with chopsticks while you lazy lean back against the chair, ready to crash into bed and hibernate until the late afternoon. Now you’re thankful for Sanemi dragging you home so early.
A shower he was planning on forcing you to take has to wait until later, you’re basically half asleep in your chair by the time he finished feeding you. Carrying you to bed was much easier than dragging you away from Tengen’s estate, your body basically limp in his arms while he carried you to bed. Your arms were lazily wrapped around his neck, playing a little with the hair on the back of his head while dreamily staring at your husband’s handsome face. My, was he always this hot? Or is the way Sanemi is removing your sweaty clothes just really turning you on? Before you could even open your mouth, your husband carefully helped you lay down properly onto your mattress, tucking you in with the cosiest sheets he could find. You grinned at him.
“What’re ya staring at?”
“The hottest man in the whole world.”
You relaxed under his touch as he ran his thick fingers through your hairstrands, detangling your hair a little while his eyes glossed over your features. Sanemi gave you a small hum of acknowledgement before leaning down to you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. A small giggle escaped your lips as you weakly tried pulling the warm body of your husband closer for a cuddle. He didn’t even try to protest despite him still being dressed in his street clothes.
“I gotta change, bug.”
“Mh, no. Dooooon’t caaaree.”
Sanemi groaned in annoyance but never made an attempt to move away or escape your grasp. The tension in his body slowly began to disappear the longer your body pressed against his. He lazily kicked his shoes off and slipped beneath the sheets, giving up on fighting against your drunk stubbornness.
“Just sleep, will ya?”
“As long as you stay here.”
A soft sigh escaped his lips as he began to smile slightly. He moved closer to you, burying his face into your warm neck, closing his eyes in exhaustion.
“I ain’t going nowhere, promise.”
💠
I always feel so incredibly honoured when I receive art for my fics— when I first started posting on tumblr, I set some small goals for me to archive while being active on here: get over 100 followers, get a post to 1.000 interactions, get requests and get my favourite authors to like my works— one of those goals was to receive fanart or art for my works, and the first time erexart offered to make a banner for one of my posts, I can’t describe how happy I felt XD Once I gathered enough (like a goblin), I’ll make a small post collecting every piece of media I received from others— may it be art from you guys or own little fan-works or whatever, I always feel incredibly honoured to receive anything.
I apologise if this may sound desperate or demanding, I just feel like I don’t express my appreciation for you guys enough XD
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!
Take care of yourselves <3
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ennn · 3 days ago
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Hello :) I really enjoy reading your analysis on AAA!
What conversations do you think Agatha and Rio had between “because the truth is too awful “ and “what Billy wants is a violation”?
The shift between topics was so abrupt. What would they talk about to make Agatha want to make a deal to never see Rio again?
Hello Anon! Thank you for reading 💚 Okay so I think there's 2 parts to your question here, which is (a) why the change in topics between the conversation and (b) how it leads up to Agatha's deal.
Let's take a step back a bit. If we look at the first conversation, it already starts out about the Problem of Billy right?
And the whole Billy issue only exists in the context of what happened with Nicky. If Nicky had never been a thing, Agatha and Rio and their dynamic would be entirely different. Nicky was the breaking point of their relationship – a relationship with love and lust but also wrapped up in their opposing natures.
The conversation quickly escalates, shifting from Billy to their history and relationship. Rio, direct as ever, airs what must be a long-long-simmering grievance:
Rio: No one in history has had special treatment like you. Agatha: You call what you did "special treatment"? You gave me nothing. You took. Rio: And that's usually your move right.
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Now the anger and frustration is starting to boil and Agatha tries to push past and get away from Rio – but Rio stops her and tries to deescalate this argument.
In other words – and to address your ask – the topic shifts because Rio is trying to have a conversation and not fight. Rio knows that Nicky is Agatha's deepest scar, and Agatha is a runner when she doesn't have control.
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You can see Rio taking a second, watching Agatha, her tone softening as she asks the question:
Why do you let them believe those things about you, hm? About Nicky?
I think Rio tries to deescalate because she does need Agatha's help with the Billy situation: she can't kill him or reap his soul on her own. It's not a thing Rio is happy about or wants but she's got a job to do.
BUT in this show things are usually complicated: more than one thing can be true at the same time: I think Rio also cares about Agatha and wants to understand why.
After all it was Rio who told the group in episode 5 that Agatha killed her original coven because they tried killing her first. Agatha doesn't bother defending herself, if anything she plays up being this villain.
I mean, Rio loves this serial killer right. It's not the murder part of Agatha's reputation Rio cares about. Rio also has the unique insight of knowing exactly what happened to Nicky. This rumour that Agatha doesn't do anything to discourage seems to not only be an insult to Agatha but the memory of Nicky.
And then in a rare moment of vulnerability, Agatha decides to reveal her truth to Rio.
Because the truth is too awful
I read this moment as Rio trying to reach out and Agatha deciding to give an honest answer. Which again, is a precious rare thing coming from her.
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I don’t think any transitional dialogue from this to the other conversation is really important, not as much as the emotional place this first conversation ends with, which allows for the second one about a potential collaboration to happen.
Also like, what do you say to something like that? Because wow there is a lot to unpack there.
Agatha’s implying that what Rio gave her and Nicky is worse than her sacrificing Nicky for power. That she isn’t trying to be cruel, she truly can’t see the gift of time Rio gave them. That she sees herself somehow responsible for what happened to Nicky. That she doesn’t just blame Rio, she blames herself.
If I had to plot out some kind of transition between these two conversations, I would do something like:
Let the silence after the admission drag on a bit. Rio looks concerned but doesn't say anything in the moment.
Agatha takes the opportunity to walk away. Rio doesn't stop her but follows. Agatha lets her.
After a moment of quiet walking, Agatha asks about when Rio knew about the Road hex and they compare notes for a bit (Rio probably throwing shade at the weird nature here). This time lets Agatha build up her walls again.
They sit down and talk about the point of the hex, which then nicely leads into their second conversation, starting with what Billy wants.
In their second conversation, what's interesting here how very reluctant Rio is about asking for Agatha's help. She knows Agatha and hates being in this position so much she doesn't even want to say it, letting Agatha piece together what she needs.
It must truly be a rare instance that Agatha has this kind of leverage over Rio, over Death.
Because Agatha reacts like a shark scenting blood in the water. She barely hides it.
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This goes back to your question: Why does Agatha make such an deal that hurts Rio so badly?
My read is that Agatha basically reacts to this rush of power over Rio the same way she badly – almost instinctively – reacted to Alice presenting her with her magic:
She takes and takes and takes.
Because Rio's always been unstoppable but now Agatha can stop her. This is what's she's been hungering for.
That sense of helplessness she felt moments ago when she thought she had to let Billy go – like she let Nicky go – now turns to something with teeth.
You can see Agatha literally take a second to calculate the most cruel thing she can say to Rio to hurt her, to deny and reject her love.
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Now that's the emotional side of things. On a more logical level, Agatha goes into scheming mode. This is like muscle memory for her at this point, she won't deny an opportunity to get ahead.
So she doesn't deny Rio's ask. She makes the price of her handing over Billy so awful to Rio it has maybe a chance of stopping her from her mission, or buying more time at least. For so much of her life Agatha has justified murder and lies and the worst behaviour with the need to survive and protect what's hers.
Once again: Calculated move, bad at math.
Because Rio accepts the deal. She's so wounded she doesn't even push back even a little. She reacts so badly to Agatha's rejection, to her taking advantage of this opportunity, that she gives into being the villain Agatha sees her as.
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steveseddie · 8 hours ago
Text
gold was the color of the leaves
steddie | rating: t | wc: 1,6k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, silly teenage boys, first kiss, fluff
for @steddie-spooktober day twenty two prompt “leaves”
read here on ao3
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Steve wakes up when a leaf tickles his nose– or rather, when someone tickles his nose with a leaf. He scrunches it up, swatting the leaf away with his hand. 
He easily recognizes the snigger that follows so he’s not surprised to open his eyes and find Eddie leaning over him, one elbow propped up on the grass and a devilish grin stretching over his lips.  
Steve lifts his sunglasses to scowl at him. “Are you like, allergic to people relaxing?” He asks in a bitchy tone that only makes Eddie grin wider. 
“Deadly so, Stevie,” he says, long dark eyelashes fluttering as the hand that’s still holding the leaf rests against his forehead like he’s going to faint. “It was either annoying you or dying, and you don’t want me to die, do you?”
“I guess not,” Steve says with a long-suffering sigh, but either the fondness in his voice or the way his lips tick up prove that he doesn’t mean it because Eddie’s grin turns blinding, his dimples popping. Steve is glad he’s already lying down or his knees might’ve buckled at the sight and sent him rolling down the small hill they’re laying on.
“Besides,” Eddie says, tickling Steve’s cheek with the leaf, “you’re missing out on all the fun.”
“Napping is fun,” Steve points out, swatting Eddie’s hand away again. 
“Yeah, if you’re eighty!” Eddie snorts. “Are you an old man, Stevie?”
“Eddie, I’m younger than you,” Steve deadpans. 
“Maybe, but I have a young soul, Harrington–”
Steve smirks. “If by young you mean immature–”
Hand to his heart, Eddie gasps indignantly. “Hey!”
“Dude, you and the kids spent the last hour gathering leaves in piles and jumping on them,” Steve says amusedly. He spent the better part of that hour watching them tackle each other between shrieks of laughter, thankful for his sunglasses and how they let him stare at Eddie as much as he wanted without getting caught.
Eddie shrugs. “Hm, you may have a point.”
When he moves, something in Eddie’s hair catches Steve’s eye. A leaf– proof that he’d spent an hour being tackled and rolling on the floor before he decided to annoy him.
Steve’s fingers itch to reach out and pluck that leaf from Eddie’s hair, smooth the curls down, grab a hold of them and drag Eddie down–
Steve shakes those thoughts out of his head, balling his hands into fists to keep them from reaching out. In the silence that follows, Steve becomes aware of the sudden lack of yells and laughter around them. “Where are the little shitheads?”
“Wheeler sent them to wash their hands so they can have a snack,” Eddie says, pointing at the water fountain where the boys are cleaning up and at Max and El, walking arm in arm towards Nancy and Robin at the picnic table. 
“Not you?” Steve asks, head falling back against the blanket he’s using to lay on the grass. 
Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I told her she’s not the boss of me,” he pauses, “then ran away before she could hit me with her book.” 
Steve snorts out a chuckle.
“Besides, I don’t want a snack. I got one right here,” Eddie says with a playful wink that turns Steve’s cheeks bright red. 
He ignores the heat creeping on his face. “I swear, Munson, if you try to bite me again–” he says, thinking about last week when Eddie said he was hungry and promptly sunk his teeth on Steve’s arm.
It didn’t hurt that bad– he was wearing a thick sweater after all. What did hurt was biting his tongue as hard as he could to keep a moan from slipping past his lips from Eddie biting him.
Eddie sniggers. “I won’t bite you, I promise,” he says innocently before he leers at Steve, his face hovering merely inches from Steve’s face. “Only if you ask.”
Steve grits his teeth together. “Shut up,” he quips, shoving Eddie off of him until they’re both lying on their backs, their sides pressed together. 
They fall into comfortable silence which Steve breaks with a loud yawn. 
Eddie’s head lolls to the side, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Tired, sweetheart?”
Steve’s stomach flips at the petname. He shrugs as casually as he can. “A little, I- uh, I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Nightmares?” Steve nods. Eddie grimaces apologetically, tugging some hair across his face. “Shit, I should’ve let you keep napping.”
Without giving it much thought, Steve curls his pinkie around Eddie’s. “No, it’s fine,” he says, waiting for Eddie to meet his gaze. When he does, his eyes are a little wide. Wistfully Steve wishes it’s because of their interlocked pinkies. “I don’t wanna miss out on all the fun just because I’m tired.”
Eddie's eyes sparkle and he props himself up on his elbow again, grinning at Steve. “Does that mean I can tackle you into a pile of leaves?”
“You forget I was a jock,” Steve says smugly. “I’d like to see you try.”
Eddie laughs, something between a snort and a giggle. He drops his head in Steve’s chest, making Steve’s heart stutter. 
From this angle, Steve spots another leaf trapped in the curls in the back of Eddie’s head, and this time he doesn’t stop himself from reaching for it. 
The moment Eddie feels Steve’s fingers in his hair, his head snaps up and Steve’s hand ends up cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. 
Their faces are close– so close that Steve can hear the way Eddie’s breath catches when he realizes the same thing.
“Eddie–” Steve starts, not sure if he’s going to apologize for touching his hair without permission or for the way his eyes keep darting down to Eddie’s lips in a way that he knows is fucking obvious. 
But before he can decide what to say, he hears Eddie make an impatient, needy noise in the back of his throat before he surges forward and presses his lips against Steve’s. 
He lets out a surprised yelp, thinking– holy shit, Eddie is kissing me!
The thought bounces against Steve’s skull like a ping-pong ball as he tries to get his brain working again. But before he can do that long enough to kiss Eddie back, he’s pulling away and out of Steve’s reach. Steve’s hand falls back to his side, empty except for the leaf that he plucked out of Eddie’s hair. 
“You uh– you had this in your hair,” Steve says dumbly, holding up the leaf. 
Eddie’s eyes dart to the leaf and his expression falls as he realizes that is why Steve’s hand ended up in his hair, not because Steve was making some kind of move.
“Shit,” he mutters, his doe-like gaze darting from the leaf to Steve’s mouth. That he just kissed. “Shit, fuck– I– shit.”
He scrambles to his feet, and in his haste, ends up stumbling and falling back on his ass– only to roll down the small hill. 
“Eddie!” 
Steve jumps to his feet and runs after him, careful not to trip and follow Eddie down the hill the same way.
He makes it to the bottom right after Eddie and his eyes dart over his starfished body, checking for injuries. 
“Christ, dude. Are you okay?”
Eddie groans, covering his face with his hands. “Did the fall kill me? Please say yes.”
Steve suppresses a snort. “I mean. It’s barely even a hill, so I don’t think that’s possible. You might end up with a bruise or two though.”
“Oh, you mean apart from the bruise to my ego?” 
“What?”
“You know,” Eddie gestures between himself and Steve with one hand, “because I kissed you and you didn’t want me to.” 
Steve puts his hands on his hips. “Who says I didn’t want you to?”
Eddie’s hands fall from his face, revealing his wide eyes and slack jaw. “You did?” He asks, voice going high-pitched.
“Yeah,” Steve says, a lopsided grin stretching over his lips. He knocks his Nike against Eddie’s leg. “I did, you just took me by surprise, s’all.”
Eddie lets out a tiny, startled, “Oh.”
Steve smirks. “Yeah so how about you get up so I can check you don’t have any cuts or bruises before I kiss you. Properly this time.”
Eddie squeaks and scrambles to his feet with as much grace as when he tumbled down the hill. Steve finds his eagerness fucking endearing. 
There are even more leaves trapped in Eddie’s curls now, and with an amused shake of his head, Steve plucks them out of his hair before checking for any bruises. 
Then, as promised, he leans in and kisses Eddie. The second kiss is also short and chaste and over too soon, but it’s good and Steve has to remind himself they’re in public in order to gather enough willpower to pull back. 
When he does, his brain is a little hazy and he completely misses the way Eddie’s expression shifts from dopey to mischievous so it catches him by surprise when Eddie tackles him into a pile of leaves, laughing maniacally. 
“Ha! Got ya!” Eddie whoops, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, hovering over Steve who wants nothing more than to kiss the stupid smug smile off his face. 
But he can hear the kids laughing at him and cheering for Eddie in the distance and there’s no way he can get away with kissing him even if Eddie’s hair falls like a curtain around them, offering a little cover.
So he grabs a handful of leaves and shoves them into Eddie’s grinning mouth instead.
He’ll save the kiss for later.
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futuremrscameron · 2 days ago
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Parents Rafe and Bahamas reader, please! 😭
a/n: i ended chronicling their journey through/post pregnancy i hope you mind
bahamian!reader and rafe as parents🧑‍🧑‍🧒🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒
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first trimester (1-3 months)
bahamian!reader and rafe do not use condoms, just lube, prep, and vibes so it wasn’t a huge surprise when they saw those two pink lines
it’s hard to say who was more excited, he’s always wanted a family of his own and she loves kids and rafe so that’s literally her dream come true
rafe is worried he’ll be just like his dad or he’ll screw up and no matter how many times bahamian!reader reassures him he can’t shake the feeling that it’s inevitable
bahamian!reader and rafe having arguments over baby names. he thinks he should choose the name if it’s a boy and she should choose if it’s a girl. she tells him to shove it which leads to more arguing. they eventually decide to brainstorm together and pick a name they both agree on
bahamian!reader's morning sickness comes in waves, she'll be fine for three to five says and suddenly she's vomiting for days on end. during these times rafe stays home and watches over her, cooking, rubbing her back as she spews acid, tying her hair back/up, and running a washcloth under the water before placing it on her head
the first person that finds out is wheezie. they didn’t tell her, she was eavesdropping overheard them talking about the baby. she was every excited to be an aunt and asked if the baby has kicked yet. rafe calls her an idiot and bahamian!reader slaps his shaved head
bahamian!reader’s siblings are the next to find out. she calls her siblings over zoom to give them the big news and their reactions range from shocked, confused, and excited. the call turns into two hours of parenting advice that she did eyes because she basically raise them all, making plans for a baby shower, and trying to book tickets to obx
bahamian!reader and rafe buy all the parenting beginner books they can get their hands on. they wanna be ready for anything even though they know that’s impossible they’re excited but scared they don’t wanna fuck the kid up
rafe wants to know the gender but she doesn’t care which causes another argument that ends in them sitting down and having a mini therapy session
rafe tells bahamian!reader he wants a son to undo what his father did to him and to be a better father than he was. she assures him that won’t happen and that he’s a different man
rafe takes so many notes during doctor visits and side eyes the doctors every time they touch her stomach or she winced at the cold jelly
bahamian!reader and rafe cried when they saw their baby on the sonogram. rafe took a picture and sent it to the gc named ‘operation boss baby/storks’ by bahamian!reader
topper and kelce are the next people to find out because rafe is very proud of himself and his hard work like they weren’t fucking raw. they’re shocked but excited to be uncles and congratulate him and bahamian!reader. they argue over who’s going to be the godfather. rafe likes watching them fight so he doesn’t immediately tell them it’ll be probably be both of them and bahamian!reader’s brothers
sarah finds out after bumping into bahamian!reader at a flea market and sees her bargaining with the vendor for a box of fruits and veggies. she talks about needing to eat healthy while subconsciously rubbing her belly and sarah puts two and two together. she asks sooooo many questions, how long have the known, who was the first person they told, how could wheezie keep this from her, have they been to a doctor, how far along is she, do they know the gender?
bahamian!reader shows sarah the sonogram and she sobs because it’s so tiny and she can’t believe that’s her niece? nephew? she doesn’t care she loves it already
bahamian!reader tells rafe that sarah knows but before he can spiral she tells him they need to figure their shit out before the baby comes cause she wants all its aunts to be part of their life. when he calms down she tells him that sarah’s been added to the group chat
bahamian!reader's stops at barry's to make sure he hasn't been selling to rafe and vomits in his toilet while trying to intimidate him. he immediately knows she's pregnant and makes her some tea that helped his sister when she was pregnant. rafe sees her location and freaks out expecting the worst but when he kicks in the door he sees the two eating ice cream and watching old telenovelas
bahamian!reader makes him apologize and promise to replace barry's door
bahamian!reader and rafe agree that staying at tanneyhill is not optimal
rose is the last of the camerons to find out. she overheard wheezie talking to someone on the phone and thought it was sarah but it was actually bahamian!reader who was telling her about their recent doctor visit
bahamian!reader and rafe house hunting every night, determined to find a place for their growing family. the night they finally find the one that fits all their wants and needs is one for the history books
bahamian!reader who’s excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love form him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child
second trimester (4-6 months)
bahamian!reader and rafe who move into their new house in the winter right when the second trimester starts
bahamian!reader's food cravings are bahamian delicacies which aren't common in obx so rafe calls her siblings so they can walk him through it. she cries when he makes her conch fritters because they taste exactly the ones from the street vendor by her school
bahamian!reader and rafe start to discuss birthing options which surprises rafe because he thought they were just going to the mainland, he'd been researching all the best hospitals, researching their doctors, and scrolling through reviews.
bahamian!reader wants a home birth and like rafe, already has a plan and has done her research
bahamian!reader who talks to rafe about the possibility of her dying during childbirth and has to explain to him that the mortality rate for black women is high so they have to prepare for the worst possible scenario. he understands but he doesn't wanna think about it and doubles down on their need to give birth in a hospital
bahamian!reader who is excited to be a mother but knows there’s a chance she might not survive the birth and writes a letter to rafe expressing her love for him and asking him to stay strong for their child and to keep a strong community around him and their child. she also writes twenty three letters for her unborn child for every birthday so she can give her advice for most of her life
rafe finally agrees to a homebirth after finding the letters after bahamian!reader fell asleep at his desk while writing letter twenty four. bahamian!reader already has a doula in mind, the woman that helped birth most of her siblings, rafe thinks she's too old to still be in her prime and bahamian!reader says he'll eat his words when he sees her work
bahamian!reader and rafe hire a team of midwives from the mainland to help with the birth and buy a ticket to obx for the doula in the bahamas
rafe hasn't touched coke in almost a year and plans on staying clean for his family. he takes up social drinking which bahamian!reader can already see becoming a problem
bahamian!reader and rafe miss partying sometimes but nothing beats staying home and getting a belly massage while watching reality tv. rafe massages her belly with oils recommended by doctors (and kiara) to help with stomach cramps
they feel the baby kick during one of these late night routines and they both freeze. they look at each other, communicating everything with their eyes, waiting for it to happen again and praying it wasn't a fluke. when it happens again they laugh, cry, and kiss
the pogues of course end up finding out one by one. john b’s first cause he saw sarah buying diapers and thought she was pregnant and sarah had to tell him she wasn’t and that bahamian!reader was the pregnant one. kiara sells bahamian!reader some oils that are often used by pregnant women, jj sees her baby bump while she's at the country club, and pope automatically knows shes pregnant when he sees her house a double burger supreme at the wreck.
rafe is at the country club with kelce and offhandedly mentions a baby shower which kelce takes rafe wanting one. he enlists the help of sarah to throw this baby shower and they go all out
bahamian!reader and rafe find elaborate gender reveals lame so they just go back to the doctor's to figure out the sex
it's a girl! rafe is nervous but happy and bahamian reader is excited. they also find out the due date, bahmian!reader is so glad that their baby's gonna be a summer baby
rafe knows kelce and sarah are planning the baby shower but they refuse to let him in on any of their plans outside of asking him vague questions about due dates and
bahamian!reader who spends time with wheezie when rafe is out with barry doing "business". they get along great, wheezie reminds bahamian!reader of her little sister and bahamian!reader reminds wheezie of sarah
rafe really wants to legitimize his business and break away from his father's shadow but it's easier said than done
bahamian!reader occasionally hangs out with barry when he comes over to discuss business and they just chop it up. rafe is only slightly jealous but he's happy they get along
bahamian!reader and rafe who can't wait to meet their baby girl
third trimester (7-9 months)
rafe gets super protective around this time and bahamian!reader's weakening state does nothing to ease his worries
the doula and midwives land in obx and immediately get to work, putting bahamian!reader on bedrest, setting up shop around their house, and prepping the birthing room
bahamian!reader's boobs are sore more often than not these days. rafe feels so bad because on one hand his baby is in pain but on the other hand mommy milkers
rafe definitely has questionable thoughts about her being a mother like it's doing crazy things to his brain he really hasn't thought of it til now and he can't stop
bahamian!reader and rafe come down to two names but refuse to tell when anyone asks because they don’t want to “ruin the surprise”
kelce and sarah are running the baby shower organizing party like the goddamn navy. they sit the parents to be down and show them the baby shower invitations and try to choose a theme but bahamian!reader is too busy watching rafe make johnny cake and how good he looks shirtless
bahamian!reader gets very homesick the closer her due date gets. she's worried that their daughter will never get to see her home and her family
rafe notices she's feeling down and puts two and two together when she cries into her plate of fried plantains
bahamian!reader and rafe come back home from a spa day booked by kelce and sarah to their house covered in decorations and their closest friends screaming 'surprise'. they knew.
rafe tells bahamian!reader he's got a surprise for her and tells her to answer the door when someone knocks. she opens the door and sees her siblings which causes a ten-minute reunion hug and cry
bahamian!reader kisses rafe all over his face until all of her lipgloss is on him and gets really emotional about him doing this for her and is overcome with love and affection she feels like she's gonna burst
wheezie is a welcomed surprise and rafe wants to ask how she got past rose before seeing her not to far from them. wheezie tells him not to let that stop them from having a great time and to remember this day is about them
kelce and sarah are very proud of their hard work and can be found talking to their guests about how hard it was to put all this together but how they wouldn't trade it for the world
bahamian!reader is the guest of honor so of course she gets a crown, a throne, a scepter and a beaded necklace, she feels like the queen of carnival
bahamian!reader catches up with her siblings, asks them about school, work, romances, old friends, how home is and they ask her what it's like living in a mansion
rafe does not like being away from bahamian!reader for long periods of time so he tries to stay close by as he's bombarded with questions about fatherhood and his relationship from kooks and pogues alike
bahamian!reader squeals when she sees barry and runs to hug him. she's glad that he can still spin her around despite her recent weight gain. he apologizes but she brushes him off, tells him everyone else is just early
rafe tells his drug dealer turned ally and business partner that he's late but barry tells him he's operating on "the white man's" time
the party ends with the "reveal", bahamian!reader hits a piñata and pink candy falls out. her siblings and friends wish them congratulations but bahamian!reader is too tired to continue the festivities so rafe being the good man he is kicks everyone out
bahmian!reader convinces her siblings to stay in obx until she gives birth but can't convince them to stay in the house even after going back and forth about how they wouldn't be burdening them at all
rafe and bahamian!reader spend the rest of the next day opening up the rest of the presents
birth/early year
bahamian!reader wants to go to the beach but not just any beach, one in the bahamas. flying is not an option at this point so rafe promises to take her and the baby to the bahamas when they’re ready
rafe is planning the hell out of the labor from what time contractions are gonna start to charging every device that has a camera so they can remember it
bahamian!reader goes into labor a week early and rafe freaks the fuck out while she's calm as a cucumber. he's worried what this could mean no matter how much the midwives assure him that she's fine and that it's perfectly normal especially considering her family history
bahamian!reader is walking around to help with the pain with rafe following closely behind her. she jokes about going up the stairs and his face going pale is equally hilarious and adorable
bahamian!reader falls to her knees after an excruciatingly painful contraction. rafe is panicking and decides that's enough walking around, lifts her up bridal style, and takes her back to the birthing room
the pool is ready and the midwives tell rafe to put her inside but she grabs his arm with a crushing grip, meets his eyes, and tells him to get her siblings. he reassures her he'll call them but she tells him to go pick them up and while he doesn't wanna argue with her especially at a time like this he doesn't wanna leave her alone and he's certain they'll answer and be on their way before they even hang up but she doesn't wanna risk it and now she's crying so he'll do it
he's pretty sure he's breaking every speeding law and passed many red lights but he can afford it. he doesn't even get to finish telling them she's in labor they're already in the car. he breaks some more laws on his way back but it's worth it because he gets to hold his girl's hand and tell her she's doing great as she pushes
bahamian!reader is happy to be surrounded by family at a time like this although she does threaten rafe with the camera while also telling him to get her good side
she's in labor for fifteen hours and rafe never leaves her side once. he needs coffee? the adults send one of the children to get them some (rafe's not sure about it at first but bahamian!reader's younger brother assures him that they've all been drinking and making coffee since they were five)
at the fifteenth hour, bahamian!reader brings her sisters in close and tells them to always wear condoms as she pushes one last time and the baby's head appears. she cries happy tears and feels rafe kiss her sweaty forehead, the doula and midwives tell her to push five more times
bahamian!reader and rafe cry tears of joy and disbelief at the sight of their little girl. she's taken out of the water by a midlife and cleaned up before being passed to her mother and father
rafe cries when he holds her. he can't believe something so tiny and soft and pure is half of him. he's overwhelmed with so much love and affection already he knows he'll do anything for her, for both of them. he promises her he'll be better than his father
bahamian!reader rests for two hours after delivery giving rafe and her siblings ample time to get to know the baby. her youngest siblings were made to wait outside during the delivery finally get to see their niece and the youngest, lil john, is happy he's no longer the baby (he's still a baby just not thee baby)
everyone wants to know her name but rafe refuses to tell them until bahamian!reader is up
bahamian!reader wakes up to rafe at her side with their baby and feels her heart squeeze at the sight of them. he tells her how proud he is of her and thanks her for giving him this bundle of joy which of course makes her cry
their intimate moment is interrupted by wheezie bursting in and asking where the baby is. rose apologizes for her and is followed by all of bahamian!reader's siblings screaming about "a white lady and her baby"
everyone's happy to see that bahamian!reader's up and alive but they all know the real star is the baby
rafe is very warry of anyone else holding her but when he side eyes bahamian!reader's siblings and wheezie she tells him to knock it off
wheezie wants to hold her but is scared of hurting her. bahamian!reader reassures her that it's not hard and she'll be fine. the baby is the spitting image of rafe but like if rafe was biracial
"what's her name?"
rafe and bahamian!reader smile at each other
“wheezie, meet louise.” she sobs.
she's very honored that they named her after her but worries that she'll be bullied in school for having an "old lady name". bahamian!reader cracks up rafe does not find this funny and takes his baby back
after everyone's gotten a chance to hold and look at the baby rafe kicks them all out because "his girl needs rest"
bahamian!reader says she's not tired but rafe doesn't believe it, he lets her have that lie though and tells her it's just so they can spend time with the baby themselves
bahamian!reader and her siblings say goodbye for what feels like two hours but is shockingly only one. rafe has to remind them that they'll see each other again tomorrow because their hotel is max thirty minutes away
sarah comes to visit and comes with a truckload of gifts and is automatically cooing over the newborn. she's talking about wanting to pinch her little cheeks and eat her up when rafe decides to take his baby back. she pouts and says she was just joking but he's not taking any chances
bahamian!reader was worried that louise wouldn't latch but she was proven wrong when she fed her the first time and she latched on immediately. it was more of a struggle to get her to let go
bahamian!reader is worried about the baby weight and what rafe will think and turns to her sisters for advice which was the wrong idea because they tell her to leave him if he says anything and that they'll take care of him
unsurprisingly, rafe has no problem with the change in her figure and says "onlys cucks and virgins have an issue with that". he's very into it actually, constantly grabbing her stomach and thighs and kissing up and down her neck. constantly being told "don't start something you can't finish bey"
bahamian!reader has a tearful goodbye with her siblings after the first month, she's scared that they won't be able to do it without their help but knows they have lives to return to. they promise her that she'll do great and that they'll see her when she visits
the first couple of doctor visits are easier than either thought until the vaccinations. rafe wants to wring the neck of the doctor giving louise her shots and making her cry. bahamian!reader has to remind him that it's temporary and her health
louise is a daddy's girl to her core thanks to rafe spoiling her rotten. when she's not with her mama she's definitely with her daddy, in his arms, behind his back, on his hip, in a stroller, a carrier, or in a pouch
her first social outing post birth is at the country club with rafe. kelce and topper see her and automatically start gushing about how cute she is. kelce talks in a baby voice and topper plays peek-a-boo with her, rafe would mock them if it was anyone else's brat but he knows his daughter is the cutest girl in the world so he understands
topper says she looks exactly like him down to his cold stare and kelce jokes that she's thankfully got her mother's melanin
first time barry sees baby louise is when he makes a surprise visit. he finds rafe on his balcony and is shocked when he turns around and has a baby strapped to his chest
louise loves barry. she's immediately intrigued by him, reaching for him from her pouch surprising rafe and bahamian!reader when she walks in on louise giggling as she pushes her tiny fingers into the dealer's mouth and pulls at his nose
barry says she's lucky she's cute and jokes that she got all her looks from bahamian!reader. rafe says he's lucky he's holding his baby or he'd knock his lights out
rafe and bahamian!reader go all out for her first christmas even though they know she probably won't remember any of it. winter photoshoots, pictures with mall santas, big family dinners, and loads of gifts. rafe promises her that when she's old enough to remember christmas he'll take her somewhere with snow for christmas
rafe gets bahamian!reader a snow globe of her bar in the bahamas and she gets him a new bike, both are left speechless by the accuracy of the gifts and the care that went into getting them they definitely fuck nasty after louise is asleep
bahamian!reader and rafe have no trouble with getting up in the middle of the night to look after a screaming baby because both their sleep schedules were kind of fucked beforehand
bahamian!reader wants louise baptized and while rafe is not against it he's surprised to hear that bahamian!reader is religious
"so what'd you think the cross necklace was for?"
"aesthetic reasons? i don't know."
"that brain of yours for 'aesthetic reasons'?"
they both agree that sarah should be the godmother only because they agree she's the most mature albeit not the oldest. rafe doesn't want wheezy to have all that pressure and power and bhamian!reader doesn't want the twins, two of her younger sister diana and donna, to fight over who gets to be godmother
bahmaian!reader's siblings watch the baptism through zoom but are still somehow the loudest there. sarah sobs at being named the godmother and while rafe looks disgusted at her snot and blubbering they both know he's happy she's there
louise says her first words a few weeks after the baptism. it's 'mama' which rafe says isn't fair because bahamian!reader has been "conditioning her to say it" they both know he's just jealous she said mama before daddy
he gets his lick back when she takes her first steps and wobble runs into his arms. bahamian!reader calls him a smug asshole and takes her baby from his arms
louise's first birthday is a grand occasion and this time they're all hands on deck. bahamian!reader flew out her siblings once again and they help with the party supplies, gifts, invites, and catering
rafe gets a little choked up during the planning cause he's never had a family like this, not since his mother. bahamian!reader and her siblings pinch his cheeks and cheer him up letting him know that he's family now
louise is dressed up in a big pink dress with a tiara to match because she is a princess. the three-layered cake is a castle and there's a bouncy house, she's having a ball
the girls of the family can't get enough of her from the twins, to fourteen year old mia and wheezie, and of course sarah. bahamian!reader find them moment too cute not to take a picture
bahamian!reader taking pictures of the birthday girl, the party, and all of the attendees, her favorite is the one where louise is messily feeding rafe cake
the baby is tired so rafe puts her down for a nap and stays by her side so bahamian!reader and keep talking to friends and family
bahamian!reader does not believe in the 'terrible twos' and even if she did that's something that happens to other peoples' kids not hers. rafe tells her he was a terror at two and she's like "oh i'm sure". if louise is ever extra bratty she blames it on rafe spoiling her and being her father which he knows is fair but does bring up that she is her mother. he sleeps on the couch that night.
bahamian!reader is so excited cause they can finally take their daughter to the motherland. they take the jet of course because it's the fastest and rafe has to hear 'are we there yet?' from a two year old and a twenty four year old
when they touch down in the bahamas they immediately book it to her childhood home where all her siblings still live and it's like she's been given a second wind. she's zooming everywhere from the beach to street vendors to her bar because she wants to show louise everything. rafe has to remind her that they're spending the summer so there's no need to squeeze everything into one day
bahamian!reader is very excited to take louise to the beach because there's nothing like it. she has to explain to rafe that obx's water is nothing like the bahamas
"bey you should know this, you seen it. ya stood in it!"
"wasn't really thinking about how beautiful the sea was at the time babe."
they of course brought a floatie for louise to sit in and get the full experience despite her pouting and telling them she could swim just fine
bahamian!reader pushes a strand of hair behind louise's ear as she speaks in a soft tone. "we know baby we just want you to be safe because the ocean can get really big. bigger than daddy sometimes."
louise's mouth is agape at the thought of something taller than her daddy. "woah. okay mama."
bahamian!reader's new bikini she bought just for the trip get a lot of attention from non-rafes. rafe comes over and kisses bahamian!reader silly in front of them like they're not there and passes louise to her before strutting off to get a beer. the message is loud and clear
louis is very sad when it's time to leave but they promise the beach is still gonna be there tomorrow. she immediately falls asleep in the ride back to the house
bahamian!reader's siblings offer to teach rafe how to play dominoes. she tries to save him but he tells her he can handle it, and in the beginning he does, he wins a round. the next few rounds are a massacre, he doesn't realize he's being swindled until the last round's over and he's lost five thousand dollars
bahamian!reader scolds her siblings for swindling him and rafe for not listening to her
bahamian!reader and rafe having date nights in the bahamas. she takes him out dancing one night which leads to a hot and heavy make out sesh in the alley. the next week they go skinny dipping and their last week in the bahamas they eat from several street vendors
you already know she's got him trained in taking photos like he has a master in cuntology and minored in photography
exhibit a
exhibit b
exhibit c
as the night comes to an end, they stop at a convenience store before heading home.
"you've never tried jarritos!?"
is it really that hard to believe?"
"a little yeah. nah we're fixing that."
that's how he found himself being dragged through the aisles of a 24/7 convenience store. they stop in front of the horizontal fridges, she grins at the endless options. "well, here it is."
"here it is." he parrots back. she looks back at him and rolls her eyes but the smile tells him everything he needs to know. "what flavor you want?"
"you're the expert, what do you recommend?"
"mango."
"mango it is." he watches her open the fridge and grab two mango bottles. there's something about the flickering dying white light above them, the blue dim light in the freezer, the condensation on the mirror and the hum of the fridge. he's already pulling out his camera when she turns and smiles. click!
she grins, ""okay big man! mr. professional! i see you!" she closes the fridge and faces him, one hand on her hip "was it good?"
"with you? always."
she halfheartedly shoves him and walks past him. "thank you." she stops and looks back at him, "i just wanted good photos."
he shrugs and reaches her in three strides. he wraps one arm around her waist, "yeah but i wouldn't have done it without you."
she smiles, "maybe. maybe not. let's go, my baby's waiting for me." he chuckles as they walk up to the cashier, manned by an old skinny dark skinned man with an unbuttoned shirt and a hat. he's looking down at his phone watching what sounds like a soccer game when she clears her throat.
the old man looks up and does a double take. rafe knows that look well.
he turns off his phone and attempts to straighten himself up, "good evening ma'am. little late to be out by yourself no?"
she glares, "don't try it old man."
the man frowns but squints, "hol'on oh my lord gal i didn't recognize you? how you been?"
"i straight, where's your glasses wilson thomas?"
he shrugs, "ah you know those doctors just tryin' to make money." he swipes the drinks and puts them in bags. "last i heard ya moved to north carolina and had a baby? i said "no way" thought it was just sip sip."
she grins, "yeah, i'm a taken woman now." the man finally acknowledges rafe who gives him a cold menacing smile.
wilson maintains his chivalrous act but the couple sees right through him "oh that's good!"
she chuckles as she swipes her card, "uh huh. goodnight thomas." she grabs rafe's hand and leaves the store as wilson calls after them. "hey stop by any time ya hear! i always got a discount for ya!"
they stop a good distance away from the store, she pulls out both bottles, "sorry 'bout him."
"what's his deal?" rafe asks as he accepts the drink from her hand.
she takes a sip and shakes her head, "old perv."
"oh?"
she shrugs, "always got everything in that shack of his though." she says it like it's no big deal but he notices the way her hand balls into a fist.
he looks down at the drink in his hand and taps the cap before biting the bullet. "do you miss living here?"
she stops drinking and looks at him. she swallows, "what's this?"
he wants to find the right words so it takes him a little longer to reply. "you're- you seem... happier here? do- would you wanna stay here?" she looks out to the direction of the ocean and closes her eyes, taking in the smell and the sound.
"i miss it."
he feels like he's been sucker punched in the gut.
"but i love living with you. and yeah i miss my family but you're my family, you and louise. doesn't matter where we are."
how did he get so lucky? "i love you."
she smiles, "i love you."
bahamian!reader and louise are disappointed when they have to head back to outer banks but bahamian!reader promises to visit when they can and tells her siblings their home is always open to them. they apologize to rafe for swindling him but he tells them it's fine cause he did worse at their ages
louise cries until they're at the airport and she falls asleep and doesn't wake up until they're in the sky
louise may be a daddy's girl but she loves her mama. it only becomes a problem on the first day of pre-k
louise stomps her foot and cries, "i don't wanna go mama!"
bahamian!reader squats down to her level and wipes her tears, "oh i know baby but you wanna get smarter and bigger right."
she shrugs, pouting and refusing to look her in the eye. bahamian!reader feel her heart break, seeing her baby sad is one thing but knowing she's the cause of that pain is another.
"okay. no lies, it's hard. it's gonna be hard for me and your daddy to watch you go through the doors and it's gonna be hard for you to be without us for a while. but i promise you, we wouldn't be doing this if we didn't know it would help you. i can't promise you'll have fun but i promise you'll learn something and the hours will go by faster than you think?"
louise rubs at her eyes and her come to a stop, “really?"
"really. and before you know it me and daddy will be here to pick you up and give you a million kisses and biiiiig hugs." she lightly squeezes her to give her an example of the hugs.
louise giggles. "you're silly mama."
she smiles, "i know." she wipes her daughters tears and gives her one last hug. "i love you baby."
"i love you more mama."
"impossible." she smiles and kisses her forehead signaling for the homeroom teacher to take over.
she grabs louise's hand and tells her to wave bye to bahamian!reader, she does and bahamian!reader waves back as she watches the two disappear into the classroom.
louise is already the next kook princess, only three years old and she has everyone wrapped around her cute little finger
second pregnancy
about 3 years after louise bahamian!reader gets pregnant again. they ecstatic but are worried that louise won't be since she's used to getting all their attention. they both know what it's like to have all the love and spotlight on you and suddenly having to share it with another kid
louise is very happy to hear that she's gonna be a big sister and puts her ear against bahamian!reader's stomach trying to hear them. they tell her she won't be able to hear or feel them for a while
they both agree that the second pregnancy was easier because they know all the tricks and hacks and have made a plan A-Z for the birth. what they weren't prepared for were twins
rafe’s shocked when they find out there having twins but bahamian!reader isn’t. she forgot to tell him that twins run in her family
rafe is officially freaking the fuck out, he doesn't know how he can replicate what he did with louise with twins!
bahamian!reader is surprisingly calm for most of her pregnancy, seeing twins as a challenge that she can take on
louise helps keep her stress as low as she can; she cleans up her toys, helps set the table, and keeps bahamian!reader company when she goes on bedrest later in her pregnancy
rafe and bahamian!reader stick to online shopping for baby materials this time
bahamian!reader's cravings have involved from bahamian food to triple cheese totinos pizza and cans of cool whip
jj jokingly calls her huge one time and makes her cry and rafe would’ve beaten the shit out of him if he wasn’t held back by barry and bahamian!reader forgives him
bahamian!reader and rafe agree to make charles, her younger brother, and barry the twins' godfathers because they are the most qualified despite some of their shadier pasts
bahamian!reader wants to have the twins at a high class fancy mainland hospital because she doesn't risk either of the twins. they find a place that's the combination of a high end hotel and a medical facility/hospital and book their stay
it's not a surprise when they put bahamian!reader on bedrest and while she understands she is still pouty
"i'm not pouting." she pouts from what she's started calling "a fluffy prison".
rafe looks up from massaging her feet and chuckles. "looks like pouting. what do you think lou?"
louise nods and points accusingly, "stop pouting mama?"
"louise!?"
the labor is eighteen excruciating hours but it's all worth it when she sees her babies joel and alice, named after billy joel and rafe's mom. he cries when he hears her name and can't stop kissing her and baby alice as he thanks her for everything
the twins give them a run for their money, not literally of course they could afford the diapers but sleep-wise. when one is down the other is awake which sometimes leads to the other twin being woken up, this goes on for a while until they find a good strategy
louise is a great big sister, always playing with the twins and holding thier hands when they cross the street, cheering them up when they're sad, and sharing her toys
both parents can't believe their lives but they wouldn't trade it for the world
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mosneakers · 3 days ago
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4 Months After Election
Tycho: What else is there to say? This is pretty much done, right? You got what you needed?
Alex: I did have one more question for you; one that I had saved for both you and Ms. Darling. Is there anything you’re still asking yourself, after this whole ordeal? Tycho: ...How did she answer that? Alex: Haven’t asked her yet, man. You’re up first.
Tycho: [Long pause, glances over and points his head at Cam] Has Coraleye tried anything with Cam, yet? I'd be surprised if she hasn't. He seems like someone she'd go for. She never could control herself.
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Cam: Me? Ha. [Jokingly brushes hand over beard] So you admit you think I’m cute? Seriously though, we keep things professional with work clients man, no need to worry about me crossing any lines.
Alex: [Calm but firm] I don’t think you really meant that, Tycho... I think you’re just pissed off. Maybe you should walk that back.
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Tycho: [Sigh] Yeah, you’re right. She didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. Honestly, I still have plenty of questions that still keep me up at night, you know? Like, what if I’d followed her to the rooftop when Erwin wanted to talk to her alone? If I’d been with Erwin when that ship came, would they still have taken him? Should I have gone to Sixam with Coni to be by Erwin's side when they executed him? [Winces in pain from the mental image] ...Could I have done more?
Alex: [Nods thoughtfully] Those are some pretty difficult questions. I can see how much they're weighing on you. Any theories?
Tycho: I hate to say it because Erwin would have a solid theory to rationalize every one of my questions by now, but I just… can’t make sense of it. I wish I had better answers—any answers, really. No matter how many times I replay those moments in my head I just... I don't know. Nothing.
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Alex: Can I ask you something kind of personal? And if you don't want to answer, by all means— Tycho: Go ahead, Alex.
Alex: Right, okay. Do um, have any regrets—I guess what I’m really asking is, do you regret not being there for the funeral? If I remember correctly, you were invited but ultimately decided against going, right?
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Tycho: [Sigh, followed by a lengthy pause] Yeah listen, I'm ready to call it— can we just cut this part? Alex: Wait, Tycho... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push! I thought it might be relevant because there wasn't a funeral for Erwin, so I thought maybe going to another funeral might bring up some of those emotions. I swear it ties in, man, but if you're not comfortable going there, we don't have to— Tycho: I told you I wanted to stay on track. That funeral doesn’t have anything to do with Erwin.
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katsusdiary · 2 days ago
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The S*x Lives of College Girls -- K. Bakugo
--mixed!fem!reader , bnha college au, no quirk au
a/n: sorry this is so late :,) I srsly meant to post earlier but was so busy, here you go!! I also have a small oikawa Drabble in my drafts lmk if I should post.
part 4 !!
prologue // previous part // next part
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The dorm meeting was insanely boring to say the least. It only consisted of rules and events coming up. The dorm advisor tried to get everyone to talk but it ultimately failed. After the meeting you and the girls headed back to your dorm to hang out a bit before going back out. The only one stressing about what to wear was Mina, the rest of you didn’t care as much.
It was almost time to leave and you threw on a pair of sweatpants and a decent top you borrowed from mina. You and the girls were waiting on the couch for Mina. “give me a sec i’m almost done!” Mina yelled from your shared room. You and the girls rolled your eyes knowing it will take more than “a sec”
“ok i’m ready to go, let’s go” Mina said as she emerged from your shared room. She was wearing something casual as well but with makeup done slightly better. You and the girls left the dorm and headed to the boy’s dorm. Once you left mina sent a quick text to Kirishima letting him know that we were in our way.
It wasn’t that far from your dorm so you got there pretty quickly. Once you got there Mina finally built up the courage to knock. Kirishima opened up the door with a bright smile on his face. “Hey! so glad you could make it, come in.” He gave mina a quick hug and held the door open for the rest of you. You looked up at him to give him a quick “hi” and a polite smile. When you walked in you could hear soft music playing, and 3 other boys sitting on the couch. The blonde one looked familiar you thought as you took a quick glance around the room.
2 of them stood up to formally greet themselves. Another blonde one introduced himself as Kaminari, he had a flirting and playful demeanor to him. The other one had black hair and introduced himself as Sero, he had more of a laidback vibe to him but seemed slightly high.
“And the grumpy one in the corner is Bakugo, he doesn’t bite i promise” kaminar joked as he directed your attention to bakugo. As you went to glance over at him, you locked eyes. In that moment you realized that you had recognized him from the cafe a week earlier. He quickly looked back down to whatever was on his phone, no acknowledgment whatsoever.
“Here why don’t you take a seat, relax a bit. Can I get you anything to drink” Kirishima kindly directed you to the couch and a set of beanbags. Opting out of alcohol you decided to ask for a water.
The night was going very good, you made very good conversation with everyone in the rook (besides bakugo with him staying in the corner mostly observing). It was getting closer to midnight and you could tell everyone was getting pretty sleepy with Mina practically draping herself over Kirishima.
You all decided it was a good idea to stay in touch because of the good connection you all had so before you left, you all exchanged phone numbers and instagrams. Saying bye to everyone was a bittersweet moment, not wanting the fun conversations to end but wanting to go back to your warn bed.
prologue // previous part // next part
tags: @kalulakunundrum @pthmmsqrde @missmanda511 @M779
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cheynovak · 2 days ago
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Between Power and Freedom
Part 5
Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Shurley Female character     
Summary: Y/N, the ambitious daughter of a powerful CEO, grapples with her father's choices, while she secretly takes a job with Dean Winchester, the rugged CEO of a rival company. Sparks fly between Y/N and Dean as they navigate their growing attraction amid corporate rivalry and family pressure.
Warnings: This story will contain parts that are 18+!
English is not my first language 
*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 
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I knew I had to come up with something soon before my dad lost his shit. It was only a matter of time before he started demanding answers about my progress with Dean and Winchester industries.
During our last phone call, I had explained how unstable Dean's life was with Jo—how their fights seemed to escalate and how much tension hung over him whenever she was around. I also casually mentioned how Dean had taken me to dinner with the investors and Chuck seemed pleased with the arrangement.
“Good work on that,” my dad had said, his voice cold and calculating. “Get more into Dean’s life. Manipulate him. Let him fall in love with you.”
“Yeah, right, like that’s something I’m capable of,” I shot back, rolling my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “I have a master’s degree; I’m not Cupid.”
“Doesn’t matter. Figure it out, break it down from the inside ” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I sighed, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to agree, if only to keep the peace. So I decided to focus on my work like I used to, putting my energy into my job rather than dwelling on the complexities of my feelings for Dean.
Weeks passed, and it became painfully clear that Dean was intentionally putting distance between us. Whenever Jo was around, he acted as if I were air, completely ignoring me while plastering on a smile for her.
I tried to joke or get his attention, hoping to draw out the true Dean I had come to know, but nothing worked. It was like I was shouting into a void, and the more he shut me out, the more frustrated I became.
At work, I kept my head down, throwing myself into projects and trying to prove my worth to Bobby and the rest of the team. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, if I became indispensable enough, Dean would realize he needed me in his life—not just for work, but for something more personal.
But as the days turned into weeks, my attempts felt futile. Whenever Dean and Jo entered the office together, the atmosphere shifted. Jo had a way of commanding attention, her loud laughter and brash comments cutting through the air like a knife. Dean would respond to her every whim, and I was left on the sidelines, watching as the connection I thought we had faded into nothing.
One afternoon, I found myself alone in the break room, pouring a cup of coffee, when Sam walked in. He looked at me with concern, and I knew he could sense the tension in the air.
“Hey, Y/N, everything okay?” he asked, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, just peachy,” I replied, forcing a smile. Sam raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve been quieter than usual. Is it about Dean?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s never mind." Sam frowned, looking thoughtful. “You know, Dean has a lot going on with Jo. He’s dealing with... his own issues. Sometimes he just needs space.”
Space? I thought, the frustration bubbling over. What kind of space? I’m not trying to invade his life; I just want to be friendly. But it feels like I’m competing with her every single day.
But all I said was "sure".
Sam his voice calm. “He’ll come around when he’s ready. He's a good boss, but his personal life just mingles with work I guess.” I nodded, appreciating his advice but still feeling the sting of rejection. “Thanks, Sam."
As I stood there, staring into my coffee cup, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my situation was only going to get messier. I had a job to do, but my heart was tangled in a web of emotions that seemed impossible to untangle.
That evening, as I sat at my desk, I noticed Jo laughing in the hallway. It was a familiar scene, but tonight it hit harder. I clenched my jaw, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. I didn’t want to be this pawn in my father’s game, nor did I want to be the other woman, vying for Dean’s attention while Jo played the part of the doting girlfriend.
With a deep breath, I decided to focus on my work and push the feelings aside. I had to remind myself that I was capable, that I was more than just a pawn in someone else’s game. But as I glanced at Dean, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep this up without losing myself in the process.
--
Another dinner at Bobby's made it painfully clear why Dean had changed.
Jo announced to everyone, with a beaming smile, that she was pregnant. I almost choked on my food, a mix of shock and disbelief flooding through me. I forced a congratulatory smile, clapping along with everyone else, but my heart sank.
Dean, on the other hand, seemed anything but pleased. He sat quietly, his expression unreadable, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat waves.
--
The next night, I found myself working late. I had thrown myself into my projects, trying to escape the reality of Dean’s new situation, but my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.
Bobby asked Sam the come back but part time, he wanted me by his side. To share the same title. Sam thought it was a great idea, this way Bobby could train me until his retirement and I would get promoted earlier.
When I decided to leave my office, I noticed a light still on in Dean's office.
I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door. “Hi,” I said, stepping inside. Dean looked up from his paperwork, his brows furrowing as he saw me.
“Hey,” he replied, his voice lacking its usual warmth. He looked downcast, his tie a little lose, his hair messy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was spiraling. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.
“I could ask you the same thing. Did you have dinner yet?” I inquired, trying to keep my tone light. He sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, I tried to work through it, but I can’t seem to focus.”
“Is it Jo?” I ventured, surprised by my own boldness. Dean looked at me, surprise flickering across his face. “You noticed, huh?” I nodded slowly. “It’s just... I’ve seen... You don’t seem really thrilled about everything.”
He leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts evident. “Just between you and me?” he asked, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves could hear.
“Of course,” I replied, stepping closer and closing the door behind me for privacy, even though we were probably the only two people in the building at this hour.
Dean took a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think I’m ready for kids,” he finally admitted, his voice strained. “I never pictured myself being a father, start a family, let alone with Jo. I just... I feel trapped.”
My heart ached at his words. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this turmoil. “Does she know?” I asked softly, afraid of his answer but needing to know.
He shook his head, frustration mingling with confusion. “No. I mean, how could I tell her? She’s so excited about it. I can’t just crush her like that.”
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Dean, it’s not just about her. You have to think about what you want too. This is your life, and it’s a huge decision.”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I just… I don’t want to let anyone down."
I could see the conflict etched on his face, the struggle between duty and desire. I stepped closer to him, my heart pounding.
He locked eyes with me, and for a brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.
I felt a surge of hope as his gaze softened. “Still maybe you need to talk to Jo. She deserves to know how you feel, and you deserve to be honest with yourself.”
Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I just don’t know how to start that conversation. It’s going to break her heart.”
“I know it’s tough,” I said, my voice steady. He nodded slowly, the weight of my words settling over him. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, but I pushed it aside, reminding myself of the boundaries I needed to maintain. “You can always talk to me. I’m here for you,” I assured him.
We stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel the tension between us, a mix of comfort and longing, but I knew this wasn’t the right time to explore those feelings.
“How about I order some pizza, and I’ll help you with this?” I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood. Dean’s face brightened, and he nodded gratefully.
“Yeah, that would be great,” he said, pulling out his phone. I quickly ordered a couple of pizzas and settled back into the rhythm of work.
We tackled spreadsheets, analyzed figures, and brainstormed ideas for the upcoming projects. The hours flew by, and soon enough, we were both feeling the effects of long hours and stress.
After we wrapped up, I leaned back in the seat in the corner of his office, taking a deep breath to unwind. I kicked off my shoes, letting my bare feet rest on the table in front of me. Dean looked over with an amused smirk as he walked back with two glasses of bourbon in hand.
“Nice footrest you’ve got there,” he teased, handing me a glass. “Try to wear heels all damn day, you'd do the same,” I replied, laughing softly.
Dean took a seat on the table in front of me, his posture relaxed as he placed my feet gently on his lap. "You know, you don't need to wear heels in this company, right?"
Just as I wanted to answer he started to massage them, his fingers digging into the arches of my feet. Ah soft "hm" left my lips. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up at me with an expression that was both playful and sincere.
“It’s more than okay,” I replied whispering, feeling the tension melt away with each movement of his hands. “I might need to keep you around for personal massage therapy session.”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “I charge by the hour,” he quipped, and we both laughed, the sound filling the otherwise quiet office.
The atmosphere felt easy and cozy, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But just as we settled into our little bubble, the door swung open, and Bobby walked in.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Dean and me in such an intimate position.
“No, not at all!” I exclaimed, pulling my feet back into a more appropriate position.
Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I hope I’m not stepping on any toes here. I’ve got the latest numbers on the project you two were working on.”
Dean straightened up and regaining his composure. “We were just wrapping things up, anyway. What do you have for us?”
Bobby pulled out a folder and laid it on the table, glancing between us with a knowing smile. “Just wanted to make sure you two had everything you needed before the meeting next week. I’ll leave you to it.”
I couldn’t help but feel a mix of warmth and embarrassment. Dean had dropped the playful facade, returning to his professional demeanor, but I could still sense the underlying tension from earlier.
“Thanks for that,” Dean said to me, leaning back against the table, his expression softening. “I really needed it. You know, you’re pretty amazing at keeping my head straight.”
I smiled, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. “Just doing what I can. Besides, you’d do the same for me, right?”
He nodded, a hint of seriousness creeping back into his eyes. “Yeah, I would.”
The air was charged with an unspoken understanding. I knew we were both still navigating our complicated feelings, but in this moment, sitting together in the glow of the office light with the smell of pizza in the air, it felt like we were on the verge of something new.
--
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schniggles · 3 days ago
Note
1 thru 6 for the slay the princess ask game!
(Explore) What's your favorite Chapter?
I HAVE to say Chapter 3: The Princess and the Dragon. what can I say, I think The Long Quiet is big sexy and we don’t get to look at him full-on anywhere else!!
(Explore) If you have a least favorite Chapter, then how would you go about changing it?
Chapter 2: The Nightmare for sure. It just feels… not scary! And I’m a huge weenie so that’s saying something! It needed more buildup. I didn’t feel really threatened, even despite the best efforts of VotParanoid’s delivery when the Nightmare got too close. Maybe it takes longer for the Nightmare to jump you if you walk around a bit in the maze. (Then again, I’m sure Black Tabby made it the length it was for a reason so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
(Explore) Who's your favorite Vessel?
Honestly? Damsel, possibly. First Vessel I got in the very first demo, for one thing! The skin of the construct feels particularly close, with her. She doesn’t want to hurt The Long Quiet, so — in concert with his actions — she becomes something that can’t hurt him. Her route is genuinely unsettling. (Shout-out to Smitten for selling the creepy, lmao.)
(Explore) If you have a least favorite Vessel, then what do you think would make you like her?
Do I have a least favorite? Hmmm… I mean I don’t vibe with the Tower but that’s just because I want to be the dommy mommy, I don’t think that’s a problem with her.
(Explore) Who's your favorite Voice?
HERO!!! HERO HERO HEROOOOO, MY BELOVED!!! The worst thing you ever did was respect the decider’s choices too much. Mwah mwah mwah. 
(Explore) If you have a least favorite Voice, then what do you think could make you like him?
Broken, but specifically in his own route. Idk I think if he was more overtly needy it might be more compelling. I get that he’s the part of TLQ that doesn’t want to be hurt anymore, but c’mon dude.
(Even so, I love how the Voices are all parts of a whole personality, I love how they’re both reflections of the player/TLQ and shards of the Narrator/Echo. The Narrator can control TLQ in chapter 1, but after that, the Voices take over. It’s such a great ludonarrative integration.)
(Slay the Princess ask meme)
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sunnie-angel · 4 hours ago
Text
A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out
Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places
fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all
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Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.
Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.
“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 
“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.
“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.
“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 
Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.
“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.
“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.
Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.
“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.
He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.
“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”
Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.
Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.
Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.
“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.
“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”
“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”
Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”
You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.
“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”
You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.
A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.
“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”
Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.
“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.
Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.
“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”
She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.
“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.
“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.
“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”
Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.
“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.
“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”
And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.
Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?
Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.
A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.
“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.
“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.
“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.
Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.
“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”
You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.
“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.
“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.
“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”
“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.
Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.
“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”
“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”
“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.
Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.
“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.
“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.
“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.
Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.
“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.
“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”
Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.
“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”
You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.
Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.
“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.
“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.
She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.
Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.
“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”
“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.
“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”
He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.
“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.
“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”
“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.
“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.
“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”
Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.
Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.
“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 
“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.
“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”
“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.
“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.
“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.
And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.
“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.
“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 
“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.
“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.
“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.
“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.
“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.
“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”
Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 
“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.
“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 
“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.
Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.
Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.
Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.
Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.
“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.
Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.
“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.
“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.
“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”
“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”
“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”
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series masterlist | part 2
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stargirlygirl · 2 days ago
Text
Upgrade pt. 2
Pro Hero Midoriya Izuku x fem!reader
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 (coming soon)
Summary: Izuku gets severely injured during a rescue mission. As a result, most of his left arm is amputated. You, being a mechanical and biomedical engineer (and his loyal girlfriend), decide to build him a cybernetic arm to replace the arm he's lost.
Word count: 6.7k
Other character appearances: Todoroki Shouto + Bakugou Katsuki
🚨Disclaimer & Warnings: Izuku has most of his left arm amputated and it is emotional + swearing
A/n: I've never had a limb amputated and I don't know anyone who has, so I've used several resources to help me write Izuku's experience for this story. These are at the bottom of part 1. I've tried to capture the experience of what it's like to lose a limb, but I'm not perfect and neither is this work. If I've offended you, please message me.
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It’s 8am and you’re in the elevator riding up to level 3. You’ve taken the next week off to see your pookie. And you’re anxious to see him, but not yet. There’s someone you need to speak to first. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You walk down the white linoleum corridor, eyes peeled for that tall, lanky doctor. There! He has his back to you, speaking with a nurse outside of the recovery room.
You come up behind him, keeping a respectful distance of course, and wait patiently. The nurse acknowledges you with a nod. Once she leaves, Dr Kita turns around and gives you a lazy smile.
“What can I do for you, Miss [L/n]?” You notice how dark his under-eyes are and wonder if he’s been here all night. Wouldn’t be much different to you, for you’ve been up the whole night drawing up plans that you’re about the show him, if he gives you the time of day. “I’ve been thinking about Midoriya’s surgery and I wanted to know what kind of prosthetic you were going to give him.”
He raises a thick, black eyebrow, “I don’t choose, Miss [L/n]. Mr Midoriya will choose his prosthetic from a list of accredited providers.” You gulp. Okay, not exactly where you were hoping this conversation would head. Your palms begin to get sweaty. You open and close them, hoping to loosen up some of your nerves over what you’re going to ask.
“Miss [L/n].” Your heart pounds. You can hear it thumping. The blood rushing. “Mhmm.”
“I’m rather busy, so please, just ask me what you want to ask.” He stares at you shrewdly over the rim of his metal frames. “Okay, so, I’m a biomedical engineer and I was thinking that because Izuku’s amputation was open, then I could build him a cybernetic arm and we could attach it surgically.”
He sighs, “Miss [L/n].”
Fuck, he thinks this is really weird, doesn’t he? “Cybernetic arms work by—”
“I know how cybernetic arms work.” His mouth is pressed into a hard line as he stares you down.
“Izuku is Japan’s Number One hero. Give this man a regular bionic arm and he could never be that again. Look at all the heroes that lost their limbs in the Final War. Replace what’s missing of his left arm with a cybernetic arm and he could continue his hero work. Maybe not as number one anymore, but he could still make a difference in society as a hero.”
Dr Kita just looks at you and you stare right back. This isn’t the first time a man has looked down on you and your ideas as an engineer because you’re a woman. You know that you just have to stick it out. Be confident in your argument, your design, and keep pushing until he relents and takes you seriously.
Just when it looks like he’s about to tell you to get lost, he surprises you with, “Can you build a robot?”
He doesn’t mean it sarcastically. He means it genuinely. Fair question. Most of your colleagues can’t. “Of course I can build a robot. I did mechanical before specialising in biomed.”
“Have you ever built a prosthetic arm before?” He’s got a half-smile on his face, perfect teeth barely visible.
You have to look away momentarily from that intense gaze, “I’ve built a robotic arm before. I built Izu’s current hero suit. And, I know how One For All works. How hard can it be?”
Dr Kita sighs again and looks down at his clip board. It’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks again, “I assume you’ve got the designs.” You automatically reach for your bag on your shoulder, pulling it down and grabbing out your folded and coffee-stained designs. You begin opening them up to show him when he places his slender finger on the folded edge. “I finish in thirty. You’ll be in Mr Midoriya’s room, I assume. I’ll come over and you can show me then.” You nod in response and smile. “Thanks, doctor.” You bow and turn to leave, but he adds, “Run it by him first, yea?” You hum in agreement before returning to the elevator and taking it up to level 5, where Izuku’s been moved to for his stay at the hospital.
You knock on his door (as they’ve given him a room to himself) and let yourself in once you hear his permission. He’s sitting upright, stocking and drainage tubes on his left, cannula on his right. The sunlight kisses his pale skin, illuminating his freckles and bringing out those flecks in his dark green hair and eyes. He smiles once he sees you, inviting you to come over to him. You pull out the bento box you made for him this morning, setting it on the table next to his bed before you grab a chair and sit at his side.
“I missed you. How have you been holding up?” You place your hand just above his knee that’s covered by the thin blankets. He gives you a small smile. You can see how the skin around his eyes are puffy and red. Not well, you take it. “I brought you some of the curry I made. Do you want some?” He hums softly.
You grab the travel case from your bag, whipping out a pair of wooden chopsticks and a rice spoon. You place the bento on your lap. It’s still warm from the fresh rice you placed in it before leaving for the station. You open the lid, slipping it beneath the box. “Mhmm, it smells good, honey.”
“I got you some curry,” you say, pointing to the little compartment with the curry, “some rice, pickled onions, strawberries, and some hard-boiled eggs.” You grab one of the egg-halves with the chopsticks and bring it to Izuku’s mouth. “Honey, I can feed myself,” he says quietly. “Shhhh, here comes the aeroplane.” You begin winding and swerving the egg through air. Izuku chuckles and lets you feed it to him. He smiles warmly as he chews on the egg.
“Mhmm yummy. You want another one?” You’re already grabbing another egg. He stares lovingly at you and let’s you feed him this one too. Actually, you end up feeding him the curry and rice too as you don’t want them to get cold before he’s tried any.
You place the bento back on the table and look down. Sensing your sudden nervousness, Izuku rests his right hand on top of yours, on his thigh. It’s scarred from years of pro hero training and work, warm, and large, enveloping your own baby hands. He smiles gently at you, silently urging you to tell him what’s on your mind.
You let out a shaky breath. “Izu-chan…” He gazes back at you with those puppy eyes. “Mhmm.”
You look down, focusing on the back of his hand. “I want to replace most of your left arm with a cybernetic one.”
You trace the scars on his hand. The peaks soft beneath your fingertips. You can feel hardness of the tendons just beneath the delicate skin. “So, I’ll be like… part robot?” You look back up, seeing the confused look on his face, “Um, yea, pretty much. I’ve already spoken to Dr Kita about it. He’ll be coming in shortly and we’ll go through the designs I’ve drawn.”
“You already drew designs. Don’t those take hours hours, love? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night.” You bite the side of your lip before laughing a bit, more to yourself. “I thought you could tell now when I’ve pulled an all-nighter, pookie.”
Izu moves what’s left of his left arm, groaning in pain once again. You’re immediately on alert, leaning over him. “You okay?”
“Yea, I just keep forgetting… about that.” You sit back down, grabbing his right hand with both of yours. You smile at him reassuringly, seeing that sheepish look on his face. A comfortable silence hangs in the air for the next couple of minutes. You both thinking over what’s just been said. You start to think that he doesn’t like your idea when he pipes up, “Okay, I trust you, honey.”
You’re literally gob-smacked, jaw open wide, eyes even wider. “What? You mean,” you fumble your next words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “You mean, you’ll actually let me build you an arm? And like, attach it you? Like, ‘you can’t easily get rid of it’ attach it to you? Seriously?”
He chuckles at your rambling. “Of course I will. You know a lot more about this kinda thing than I do, sweetheart. If you think it’s for the best, then I trust you. But…”
You’re on the edge of your seat, anxious for that objection. “But?”
“I’ll be able to be hero again, right? With a robotic arm, I mean.” He looks at you curiously, hand squeezing yours again. You sigh, “Izu-chan, you are a hero. Even with a robotic arm, you’ll still be a hero.” He nods, hand leaving yours to rub the back of his neck. “Thanks hon—” You’ve already leaned over him again, and this time, you cut him off mid-sentence with a brief kiss.
Well, it was supposed to be, but it became much deeper once he cups your right cheek, angling your head just right for him to slide his tongue over your bottom lip. You moan into him, granting him access. Your hands come to the nape of his neck, fingers tugging at the stray curls. Tongues swirl in a flurry of longing and ecstasy. How long had it been since you two kissed? Like, kissed.
You’re already straddling him. Saliva beginning to drip down from the corners of your mouth. Izuku groans as you tug harder at his curls, his large hand slipping to hold the back of your neck, beneath the curtain of loose [h/c] locks.
The sound of throat-clearing catches your attention. You’re pulling away from each other instinctually. The culprit stands at the door, long fingers still wrapped around the door knob. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
You quickly get off of Izuku, sitting back in your chair at his bedside. You fiddle with your hair and wipe the saliva from your lips. Dr Kita sets a second chair next to yours. You shuffle so that you can easily look at him and Izuku.
You notice Izuku’s cheeks have gone red, as well as the tops of his ears and his chest. You giggle, realising how embarrassed he must be. You’re pretty embarrassed too, but it’s to be expected. You’re both pretty touch starved after being separated for a month.
“So, where are these designs you wanted to show me?” Dr Kita begins, seated, calm and poised as ever. You grab your bag which lies against the hospital bed, pulling out your designs and laying them on top of Izuku’s legs. You begin explaining them to Dr Kita, not holding back as you get into the nitty gritty of what materials you’re intending to use, estimated costs, mechanics, electrode implantation, as well as having transformative features if you’ve got time like a cannon or rifle. You pause a few times to look back at Izuku. His blush goes down fairly quickly and, he just nods as you speak. He’s probably got no clue what you’re on about.
“And how are you going to test this arm?” Dr Kita asks. You look at Izuku, the same train of thought passing through you. He nods gently, urging you to continue on. You take a deep breath in, “You do know about my quirk, don’t you?”
And now it’s your turn to raise your eyebrow at Dr Kita. He just stares back at you, seeming mildly perplexed. “Am I supposed to?” You chuckle, “You seriously don’t know? The media couldn’t shut up about it when they found out.” You look back at Izuku and he’s just staring at you with that content expression on his face again. You turn back to the tired doctor beside you.
“My quirk is called ‘quirk stealer’ but it’s more like ‘quirk borrower’. But that doesn’t sound very cool, does it? My quirk allows me to ‘steal’ the quirk of others for up to 24 hours at a time by kissing them. I intend to ‘steal’ Izuku’s quirk, One For All, for a day so I can test how the arm holds up against his quirk and make any necessary adjustments.”
Dr Kita just stares at you disbelief. His mouth hangs slightly open, browheads sloping upwards. It takes him a few moments before he chuckles. He shakes his head as he does so, sunlight catching on loose black strands slipping from his low bun.
“Of course you do.” He re-adjusts, crossing one slim leg over the other. “Fine. Your design sounds good. Plan is thorough enough. Your only issue is that we can only keep his wound—” His boney finger points to what’s left of Izuku’s left arm, “open for a week, maximum. You’ll be, well not you, Mr Midoriya will be very lucky if his wound hasn’t become infected by the time you’ve finished construction and final testing of the arm.”
Your brows furrow at this. It was something you’ve considered but had avoided thinking about. You lean forwards slightly towards Dr Kita, saying in a low voice, “Realistically, how long do you think I have before infection sets in?”
“It all depends really.” Dr Kita pushes his glasses up, from resting on the bump of his nose to the space just before that. He looks over at Izuku, studying him carefully. “Some patients’ wounds become infected within hours. For others, it takes days.” His gaze flickers back over to you. “You’ll want to get him back in theatre and attach the arm as soon as possible.”
You nod. “Umm,” Izuku starts, his voice is quiet and hesitant, “just to clarify, honey, you’re not attaching it, are you?”
You tilt your head to the side, pouting, you say in a serious and saddened tone, “I thought you trusted me.” Your boyfriend shakes his head, “I do—”
“I’m kidding. Of course I’m not?” That wasn’t supposed to be a question, but it turns into one as you look back to Dr Kita and he nods. “You think I’d just let you operate without any qualifications or training? I hope you know what you’ll find beneath that dressing.” You laughing nervously, unable to tell if Dr Kita is joking or if he’ll actually make you operate on Izuku “Of course I do.”
Dr Kita agrees to speak to one of the orthopaedic surgeons to arrange Izuku’s prosthetic attachment, clearing up that you in fact WILL NOT be performing surgery on your boyfriend (as you shouldn’t be). You both thank him profusely and soon, it’s just the two of you again.
You two settle into a comfortable conversation, talking about everything that’s happened over the past month. You find out that it wasn’t until last week that Shoto and Ingenium had been brought onto the mission because of how close they were getting to the organisation orchestrating the sale of young women for quirk breeding.
“I still can’t believe that that still exists in this day and age.” You’re utterly discussed by this and it’s apparent in your voice. Izuku nods in agreement.
He continues on, telling you how he’s been rooming with Dynamight in this abandoned apartment overlooking a series of night clubs since the mission started. It’s been filled with lots of teasing and arguing. Getting older, going off on their own, Midoriya and Bakugou’s relationship isn’t as… explosive (like what I did there?) as it was at UA. Being high-ranking pro heroes now, the competition between them is friendlier. Not friendly. But, friendlier. There was a healthy rivalry between them now.
“If I’m being honest though,” Izuku lowered his voice to a whisper as he leaned closer to you, “I’m glad that it’ll be back to the two of us from now on.”
“WHAT WAS THAT DIPSHIT?!”
You turn in shock as Dynamight bursts into the room, door slamming into the wall, hinges shaking. He’s in a hospital gown, bandaged arms peaking out.
“Kacchan!” Izuku says, surprised by his visit. You were surprised that Dynamight could still hear Izuku despite how loud his explosions are. You thought he would have hearing aids by now. Or does he? Fuck, his spiky ass hair is in the way so you can’t see clearly.
“The fuck happened to you?” Bakugou questions, stopping right next to you and pointing at where Izuku’s left arm should have been.
Okay, you’re not having that. “Hey!” You stand up, puffing up your chest and getting in the ash blond’s face. Not that you can cause he literally towers over you, but you get an A for effort girlie. “None of this would of happened if you weren’t such a hothead!”
Fun fact, you’ve actually met Bakugou. You met him last year at the annual pro hero conference afterparty. It was brief, but you already knew from Izuku’s stories that this man was quite… rough. Your meeting then only confirmed such beliefs when he was shouting at Izuku for having a girlfriend and not bringing her around to meet his friends sooner.
“OI, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO, PIPSQUEAK?!” He yells in back in your face. His breath is hot as it hits your face. “YOU FUCKFACE! You’re the reason my boyfriend lost his arm.” Your fingertips jab his chest. Holy truck he’s hard. This man is built like a fridge.
“Tch. YOUR BOYFRIEND IS THE REASON HE LOST HIS ARM! IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE CAN’T EVEN CONTROL HIS QUIRK.” Bakugou’s hands grab your upper shoulders, gripping them tight. They’re sweaty and stick to your baggy graphic tee. “OI! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME before you start going off.” Your fingers grasp his wrists. They’re hotter than you’ve ever felt before. You can feel his pulse beating.
“Kacchan, that’s enough.” Izuku says like a primary school teacher scolding a child.
“I’LL DECIDE WHEN IT’S ENOUGH!” Bakugou’s fingers squeeze into the flesh of your biceps. You yelp reflexively.
“Kacchan!”
“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT.” He releases you from his grasp. Now leaning close to you, almost touching, to point at Izuku. But before he can get a word out, Izuku tells him off, “Can you at least apologise for hurting my girlfriend?”
“FINE.” Bakugou looks down you, not moving an inch. “I’m sorry, okay?” You just nod, leaning slightly backwards to keep you two from touching. This man really has no hold on personal space, does he?
Bakugou energetically points at Izuku, yelling “LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE DEKU! HOW ARE YOU GOING TO BE A HERO NOW?! Tch. And I thought you were my equal. I WOULD NEVER GO N’ GET MY ARM CUT OFF LIKE THAT!”
You end sitting back down once Bakugou leaned even further in. This isn’t really any better though. His hips are very close to your face so, you’ve settled for just turning away from him to look at Izuku. And broccoli boy just takes it. He doesn’t try to stop Bakugou from having his little tantrum. It’s probably better this way anyways. Bakugou can just get it off his chest and be done with it.
I guess he made a good choice for his hero name though, ‘Dynamight’, cause this guy really explodes. Sorry. That could of been sexual if I made it sexual. I meant his anger. Anyways…
After a while, Bakugou just stops hurling insult after insult. He finally huffs and sits down on Izuku’s bed.
“You’re such a dumbfuck, you know that?”
Izuku chuckles, “Yes, I know.”
“WHOSE GONNA BE MY COMPETITION NOW, HUH? WHAT? WHAT ICYHOT? IS THAT BASTARD REALLY GONNA BE MY RIVAL NOW?” Don’t tell me he’s gonna go at it again, you think. He really is just angry, like, limitlessly angry, isn’t he?
“Kacchan, you should keep your voice down. Shoto might—”
“YOU THINK I GIVE A FUCK IF THAT HALF N’ HALF BRAT HEARS ME—”
“I care, Kacchan,” Izuku sighs. He looks tired. Really tired.
You gently touch Bakugou on the arm. He looks at you with hostility, as if you’ve just committed an offence. “Bakugou, Izuku’s exhausted after everything that’s happened last night. Why don’t we give him some space so he can rest?”
The blond scoffs and shrugs you off, “Tch. As if. YOU.” He points at Izuku again as he stands up. “YOU BETTER FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT. I’M NOT LOSING MY NUMBER ONE RIVAL SO YOU BETTER GROW ANOTHER ARM OR SOMETHIN’!” He grabs you by the elbow, dragging you out of the room. You wave back at Izuku before sticking your thumb up and smiling, letting him know that it’s going to be okay and he can just rest. Izuku nods at this.
Bakugou doesn’t just take you out of the room, but continues to ‘guide’ you by the elbow, taking you down the hallway with him. You turn a corner and a café comes into view. “Um, Bakugou, where are we going?”
“Tch. Are you actually that dumb?” He drags you into the café and you just let him. You considered fighting back, at least just for your elbow, but it didn’t seem very promising given the ripples of muscles that are exaggerated by the bandages around his arms. He’s leading you to a table at the back where you see a head of half red and half white hair. OMG! IS THAT SHOTO?!
Of course, you were Izuku’s number one fan, but before meeting Izuku, you were actually a huge Shoto fan. Not that you didn’t like Izuku, but the half and half boy had caught your attention. You didn’t have a shrine dedicated to Shoto like Izuku has to All Might, but you would always stay up-to-date with his interviews, any new missions he’s on or news buzz he was involved in. He was quite popular back in your home country so it wasn’t too hard to find translations of media he was in. Actually, watching his interviews in Japanese had been revolutionary when you first started learning the language.
And now, you were about to meet him.
“Wait!!”You stopped suddenly, a few steps from the table, causing Bakugou to stumble-stop with you. “WHAT?!” He turned back to you, frowning hard. He’s gonna get some seriously deep wrinkles if he keeps making such expressions, you think. “I’m nervous, okay? Are we really going to go sit with Shoto?”
He barked out a laugh, “OF COURSE NOT. WOW, YOU REALLY ARE DUMB. I don’t know how Deku puts up with you.”
“Hey! That’s just mean,” you pout at him. He scoffs, “I’M ‘JUST MEAN’! GET OVER IT!” Bakugou’s face lowers down to yours just to yell at it. People were starting to stare. You could feel your cheeks beginning to flare up. “Bakugou,” you put your hand on the arm that was still holding onto your elbow, drawing another look of absolute offence and disgust from the blond. “People are staring.”
“Tch. OF COURSE THEY ARE. I’M DYNAMIGHT.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s why—” He continues on, dragging you over to the table Shoto’s seated at. He shifts to make room on booth seat, seeing you two coming over. Bakugou throws you down onto the booth side of the table. You fall onto Shoto clumsily, repeating how sorry you are as you push up from him. He grasps your forearms, helping you sit upright, muttering, “It’s fine.”
Your [e/c] eyes meet his heterochromatic ones and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Wow… he’s so pretty. Those long lashes, clear skin, full lips. Even his scar is perfect. You notice the bandages wrapped around his head like a zumba headband. They loop through his dual-coloured locks. They look so soft from this angle. You giggle nervously once he draws his hands — one hot, the other icy — back to himself.
Your admiration of the hero is interrupted by the ear-scrapping sound of Bakugou pulling out the chair opposite and sitting in it unceremoniously. None of you speak for the next few minutes, and you notice that in this time, most of the onlookers return to what they’re doing.
“So…” You start, tapping your fingers on your clothed thighs.
“Deku told me you were ‘n engineer or somethin’. You’re gonna fix his arm, right?” Bakugou’s red eyes pierce through you with their intensity.
“What’s wrong with Izuku’s arm?” Shoto’s voice is so smooth. Honestly. It’s even nicer than in all of the interviews you’ve seen. You stutter on your inhale, hearing him speak. It’s low and fairly quiet, but confident at the same time.
“Tch. That bastard—”
“Oi,” you cut in, “that ‘bastard’ is my boyfriend. You better con—”
“Deku,” Bakugou glares at you, “got his arm ripped off.”
You sigh, turning slightly to Shoto. Oh my gosh! You’re heartbeat is pumping like you run up a flight of stairs. Are you about to talk to your favourite hero? Ahem, your second favourite hero. “Izu-chan didn’t ‘get his arm ripped off’. The surgeon amputated most of it as the damage was beyond his healing capabilities.”
“Oh.” Shoto looked down momentarily.
“Tch. What a baby. IF THAT WAS ME—”
“I KNOW BAKUGOU! Oh my god I know, we all know. You’re the fucking best hero ever. You would never let anything stop you or hurt you or whatever. We know, okay? Can you please give it a rest?” Your brows are knit together as you glare at him. He glares back. “Tch,” Bakugou leaned back in his seat, looking off to the side now, face in a scowl.
The table fell into silence again. You didn’t mean to go off at him, and now you must look really bad in front of Shoto. Fuck. You only had one chance and you blew it. You probably can’t even ask for his autograph anymore. Jeez, this is embarrassing. But you were feeling really stressed out by Bakugou and his attitude toward this whole thing. You’re pretty sure that if Izuku were here, that he would tell you that this is just how Bakugou is dealing with his emotions. But seriously like, does he ever shut the fu—
“You didn’t answer my question. Are you gonna fix ‘is arm or not?” Bakugou addresses you with less aggression this time. At least he’s trying. That’s really nice of him.
“Y-yea,” you mutter, looking down at your hands. It takes a few moments for you gather up some confidence, but when you do, you look back up at him, meeting his fiery gaze. “I’m going to build him a cybernetic arm which we’re going to surgically attach to his wound.”
“The fuck is ‘cyber… cyb… cyb’ fuck I DON’T KNOW. WHAT IS IT?”
“Cybernetic?” You raise your eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. “Yea, hurry up n’ spit it out already.” He’s glaring you down softly this time.
“Cybernetic is the same as bionic or prosthetic. Basically, I’m going to build him a robotic arm and replace what’s missing of his left arm with it.”
“So,” Shoto says, “Midoriya-kun will be part robot?”
You notice how perfect his posture is, how stoic the expression is on his face. Amazing… You nod, “That’s the plan. We don’t have much time, so I need to build and test it as soon as possible.”
“Then get the fuck out ‘ere. Seriously,” he’s leaning over the table now, “go build that shit.”
“Baku—”
“YOU HEARD ME! I’M NOT HAVING THIS—” Bakugou points vigorously to Shoto, “AS MY SOLE COMPETITION. YOU BETTER FIX HIM! ROBOT, NOT ROBOT, I DON’T CARE.” He’s standing at this point, palms on the table, leaning over mockingly to Shoto. “YOU AIN’T SHIT COMPARED TO ME ICYHOT!” Shoto turns to you, unfazed by Bakugou’s outburst. “Please excuse Bakugou’s behaviour. He’s upset over Midoriya-kun’s inju—”
“I’M NOT UPSET! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!” Bakugou’s hands begin to spark on the table, leaving scorch marks in their midst. He quickly wipes his palms on his hospital gown, muttering about how he’s going to have to pay for that.
You sigh, his words resonating with you. “You’re right. I need to get back to my place and start now. Thanks Bakugou.”
You stand up, ready to leave when Shoto catches you off guard. “We should at least get you a coffee then. I assume you’ll have a long night ahead of you?”
Oh my gosh! Is THE pro hero ‘Shoto’ offering to buy me, ME, a coffee? Oh my gosh! Yes! Yes sir!
You laugh nervously, trying to play it cool but you obviously fail, “O-oh, um, yea, okay, yea, that sounds good. Yea…” You meet his gaze. It’s soft. You might actually pass out from how excited you are right now.
“Tch. FINE. I’m not paying though.” Bakugou crosses his arms, shifting his weight onto one leg. Shoto dismisses the blond’s lack of enthusiasm with a wave of his hand. “I’ll pay.”
“Really?! Like, you-you’ll actually pay for my coffee?!” Fuck. That sounded so fangirl-y didn’t it? Shit. He’s gonna know. “Of course.” Shoto places his credit card on the circular table. Where did he get that from? “What would you like?”
You think for a moment. Maybe he brought his wallet. That makes sense. From what you’ve seen of Bakugou’s behaviour, he didn’t seem to be the type to pay for the date. Not this was a date. Concerning the coffee, you usually get a double shot oat milk cappuccino but you know that the answer that won’t make you seem like even more of a weirdo is probably an iced coffee.
“Um, I haven’t seen the menu.” A safe choice.
Shoto chuckles at this, shaking his head slightly. “Of course, sorry.” He rises from his spot on the booth and you notice that SOMEHOW he’s even taller than Bakugou. Oh… so is this why Bakugou’s so mad? Height is pretty sensitive subject for men, right? He’s also in a hospital gown with a few bandages wrapped around his arms at different sites. He motions for you to start walking and so you do. He follows you as you walk over to the counter.
You notice that they have oat milk and cappuccinos on the menu. What you don’t notice is that Bakugou ended up following you two over to the counter and was standing just behind you, off to your side, watching you intensely. His sudden “tch” alerts you to his presence.
“One large cappuccino with oat milk. And one egg salad sandwich. And a three of the ichigo daifuku. You want anythin’ else?” Bakugou looks down at you.
You lean up, whispering close to his ear, “Can you make it a double shot?”
“Make that a double shot for the cap. OI! ICYHOT, what do you want?”
Shoto’s heterochromatic eyes widen for a moment before he chuckles softly. “I’ll have an iced coffee. Medium please.” He looks back at the explosive blond who clicks his tongue. Bakugou rolls his eyes, telling the server, “Two iced coffees. Both Medium.”
Bakugou ends up paying for your order and shooing you and Shoto back to your seats while he waits for it to be ready. You laugh and Shoto smiles lightly, seeing your good mood. “What is it?” He asks, looking at you curiously. You giggle, “He’s such a softie, huh?” You playfully elbow Shoto’s side. His brows furrow slightly, revealing his confusion. “Bakugou?” You nod in agreement, still smiling stupidly. “He’s all—” you puff up your chest and curl your arms like a tough guy, “rawr I’m Dynamight I’m so tough when really, he’s quite caring, isn’t he?” Shoto nods slowly, “Sometimes.”
You two stay quiet for a minute or two before Shoto says, “Midoriya-kun talks a lot about you.” You look back at him like he just grew a second head. “Really?” I mean, it made sense. You two had been together for about three years now. Shoto nods, “He could talk about you for hours. He could barely contain himself during the mission.” You giggle, “You make it sound like he loves me as much as All Might.” At this, Shoto gives you a small smile. “Maybe he does.”
“Ahh don’t start putting ideas in my head or I won’t be able to concentrate.” You dramatically place the back of your hand on your forehead, sighing in feigned distress. “My apologies…” He regains this neutral-curious look on his face. “I hope you don’t mind but, he told me that you were a big fan of mine.”
Oh fuck. Okay, it’s not funny anymore. “He what?” You stare wide-eyed at Shoto. He meets your gaze with a slight smirk. “You knew? Like, this entire time, you knew?” He offers you another nod. You let out a sigh, seeing Bakugou returning with your coffee and food. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“Why?” Shoto tilts his head at this. You whine, “Because, I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you. Did he tell you that I’ve seen ALL of your interviews? Like, every single one? Even when you were still at UA?”
Bakugou places the coffee tray on the table before setting the sandwich and daifuku in front of you. He distributes drinks. You have to admit, yours looks so good! The foam is so fluffy, just the way you like it. “Thank you, Bakugouuuuuu.” You draw out the last syllable of his name. You take a sip, moaning softly at how yummy your coffee tasted. The two heroes just stare at you. One slightly embarrassed and the other pleased. “Yea, I know right. The barista here makes a mean as fuck coffee.”
“Mhmm, this is so good! They don’t disappoint.” Bakugou watches you as he sips on his own coffee, a shit eating grin on his face. Provider Bakugou unlocked?
You look down at the food in front of you, tearing the paper bag that the daifuku came in into three pieces. As you put one of the snacks on each piece, you say, “Yea, I’m like seriously a huge fan. I have a lot of your merch too. BUT, my number one hero is Izuku. You’re my number two hero.” You wink at Shoto as you slide the daifuku over to him.
Bakugou chokes on his sip. He starts coughing furiously. On instinct, you stand up and are about to go to his side and pat his back when he holds up his hand, “I cough I-I’m cough fine cough.” You sit back down, watching him ride out the wave that is his coughing fit. Seeing him coming to the end of it, you ask, “You okay?”
“LOOK AT ME! OF COURSE I’M FINE.” Shoto laughs, watching Bakugou trying to shake off the blush of embarrassment creeping into his cheeks. “Are you surprised that I’m her second favourite and your not?” Shoto provoking Bakugou? You never thought the day would come when you would see this holy sight.
“OI! DON’T START SOME SHIT YOU CAN’T FINISH YOU HALF AND HALF BASTARD!!” You start laughing hard as you slide Bakugou’s daifuku over to him. “OI! WHAT’S SO FUNNY?” You start laughing even harder, leaning back in your seat, arms wrapping around your belly. “Y-you are,” you laugh out. Your tummy begins to hurt, tears of joy gathering in your eyes. You watch through glassy eyes as Bakugou shoves the dessert whole in his mouth angrily.
“Oi. Shut it.” But it sounds more like “Shuf ip” as he speaks while chewing. You salute, giggling, “Yes sir.” At this, Bakugou rolls his eyes.
You have a moment of clarity. Or delusion, you decide. Actually, he’s quite handsome too. You couldn’t really see it before because of his rather… energetic personality. But, there’s something quite attractive about the sharpness of his features. You can see why so many of your friends like him so much.
“I’M WAY BETTER THAN THIS FUCKWIT—”
“Oi, there could be kids around—”
“I should be your second favourite instead.” Bakugou crosses his arms again, with one large hand enveloping at least half of his drink. You shake your head, giggling again, “Oh yea.” You meet his gaze. “Prove it.”
Shoto looks with wide eyes between you two. “PROVE WHAT?” Bakugou’s leaning forward and so do you. “Prove that you’re a way better hero than Shoto.” He barks out his laughter once again in your face, it’s sharp and short. “HAVE YOU SEEN MY TRACK RECORD? Tch. AS IF I HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU, PIPSQUEAK.” He rolls his eyes, leaning back and sipping his coffee down inhumanly fast. “You right? You’ll get a tummy ache if you drink it that fast.” You look down at his quickly emptying drink before looking back up into his red eyes. He stops sipping, only ice left, “SHUT UP.”
You decide now that you’ll stop riling him up. Dynamight is a pretty cool hero. And to be honest, you do wear his merch because Izuku owns a significant amount of it. Being a pro hero, Izuku usually got discounts or free merch from other heroes. Being his girlfriend, he usually got you any merch you wanted. You feel kinda bad for pissing Bakugou off after he’s been so nice to you. Well, as nice as Bakugou gets for a someone he’s just met (the first time doesn’t really count as it was so brief).
“I’m sorry for suggesting that you’re not a cool hero, Dynamight. You are a cool hero and I’ll tell Izuku how nice you’ve been to me.” You smile at him. But this seems to have the opposite intended effect of soothing the tension.
“SHUT UP YOU DUMMY!” He looks away from you, getting up abruptly to throw his cup in the bin. He takes the torn pieces of the paper bag with him as you pop the daifuku into your mouth. Mhmmm, it’s so yummy too! The fresh strawberry is so sweet!
“He’s flattered,” Shoto chimes in. You look at him confused. “Are you sure?” He nods before asking, “Do you really own my merch? That must make Midoriya-kun uncomfortable.”
“Hmm,” you think about it for a few seconds, hearing Bakugou scrape his chair against the floor again. “Not really, I mean, have you seen how much All Might merch he owns?” You raise your brows in exaggeration. Giggling, you add, “I should be uncomfortable.” Shoto just looks at you, wating for you to continue while Bakugou begins picking at the chips of the table.
“We actually talked about it when we started dating. Izu-chan knows that I’m your fan. I’m not like in love with you or something, you know? I like what you stand for, I think you’re pretty attractive, and I admire how hard you work in your career. I do wear your merch a lot though. That makes Izu-chan jealous sometimes.” You ramble on mindlessly. Shoto looks down, “O-oh.”
It’s true. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being in love with a man you’ve never met, like you know some girls are with the respective objects of their affection. I say object because what they’re in love with is a commodity, an image, not a person. That would be super awkward if you were infatuated with Shoto. Especially since Izuku and Shoto work together sometimes.
“Stop talking and eat your sandwich.” Bakugou points to the untouched egg salad sandwich on the table. He’s right, if you’re gonna be up all night building a cybernetic arm, you had better eat up.
“Thanks Bakugou!” He rolls his eyes. “Don’t thank me, just hurry up and eat before I make you.” His voice was gruff as he stared hard at you. You giggle one last time before unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite.
This place has seriously good food.
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