#ready for a tag absolutely no ine has used

[adriartts]

if anyone asks im normal about that movie. yeah the one a total of 3 people have seen

[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[notjustjavierpena]

hear me out! reader very pregnant with Ines laying in bed. Javi bringing Lucas to their bed for a good night cuddle with you. Javi encouraging Lucas to talk to the baby or to say hello. Just teaching him how to be big brother before she’s even born. Family sweetness. Wife getting emotional and Javi too haha.

Greet

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Absolutely love writing them slaying parenthood. Hope you like it!

Summary: You and your husband prepare Lucas for the arrival of his baby sister.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, pregnancy and talk about feelings, fluff

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55035481

Greet

With a relieved sigh, you sit down on the edge of the bed and lean backward to be able to lift your legs onto the soft mattress. Your tank top strains against your protruding belly, crawling up slowly as you maneuver your pregnant body back to sit against a pillow that you have propped up against the frame of the bed. You get comfortable but you don’t really sleep lying down anymore, your pregnant belly weighing down on you to the point where it feels suffocating to be on your back. Any day now and it’ll be over. Thank God.

Today has been a particularly stressful day of growing another human being; you are at the end of the eighth month of your second pregnancy which means that your poor feet are swollen and aching, your lower back seems to want to give out on you, and you have already been to the bathroom three times during your routine for getting ready for bed because you settling down means that Inés is waking up and using your bladder as a trampoline.

Luckily, Javier had noticed your struggles before you had even voiced them in the kitchen, and with a kiss to your hair, he had sent you to bed with a promise of cleaning the kitchen and doing Lucas’ bedtime routine. 

You try drifting off but to no avail; Inés has so much energy - already in her unborn state - that you can see your tummy jumping from how harshly she kicks you now that your steps around the house aren’t lulling her to sleep. 

You settle for holding a hand over where she has kicked last, not sure what to gain from it other than feeling that she’s alive and well. You sigh with closed eyes, shaking your head with a soft smile as her little foot hits you right in the middle of your palm, “You’re giving your mamá a hard time, baby girl.”

“I bet she is but you’re doing such a good job, mamá,” Javier stands in the doorway with Lucas on his hip, both of them dressed in soft clothes for sleeping. Your husband crouches down to put Lucas’ squirming frame onto the floor, trapping him in his arms from behind and talking into his hair, “I know you’re excited but be gentle, mijo (my son).”

As soon as Javier lets go of Lucas’ tiny body, his son speeds across the room, small excited feet padding across the wooden floor, to crawl into bed with you. Javier follows to support him as he throws a leg onto the mattress during his climb, pushing gently to help him lift his weight so he doesn’t fall down. 

“Mommy!” Lucas exclaims loudly when he can finally crawl towards you and he does so with haste. He looks like he might climb on top of you, so you manage to grab him, turn him onto his back, and pull him into the crook of your arm. You tickle him until he squeals with glee.

“I knew I was gonna get you,” you smile down at your squirming baby, and your whole chest aches with love and baby fever. Lucas eventually tells you to stop and you do, wrapping your arm around him so he can use your arm as a backrest. He talks about the horrors of getting his teeth brushed with enthusiasm and you hope it’ll make him tired to babble on about it. 

You find Javier’s eyes as he stands at the end of the bed and you smile warmly. He looks so in love with you that you can feel the heat of his gaze creep up your neck with each movement he does as he joins you on the bed. 

He ruffles the hair on Lucas’ head and kisses you, causing your son to stick out his tongue. He doesn’t look pleased, “Papá, I’m talking to mom!” 

“Lo siento (sorry),” Javier smiles and rolls his eyes with a grin when Lucas doesn’t see. Lucas nods in approval of his apology and goes back to giving you all his attention, love in his eyes as he stares up at you.

With your free hand, you rub your swollen belly, “Lucas, you have to learn how to share me when Inés comes.”

Lucas’ eyes widen at the thought of that. He furrows his brow, not fully understanding what you mean but trying so hard to make sense of it. He looks down at your hand, trying to connect the dots but eventually just confesses instead, “But I don’t want to share you, Mommy.”

“I know, baby,” you reassure him, tone gentle as you explain, “But when Inés is born, she’ll need me and Daddy a lot so she can grow up to be your little sister, and that can only happen when we give her attention and love like we give you.” 

Lucas looks skeptical, uncertain in his expression. He stares at your belly for a second, “No. I don’t like it.”

“But you get to be a big brother,” Javier joins in, squeezing his son’s leg, “And you get to teach Inés all sorts of things.”

“Like what?” Lucas asks, not taking his eyes off of your pregnant belly. 

“Hmm,” your husband tries to think of something to spark interest and you fall in love with him a little more when he starts listing things for your impatient son, “Like how to play with your toys or draw with crayons. Maybe she’ll like your favorite books too. When she’s big like you, you can teach her how to kick a ball like you do.”

Lucas lights up at the topic of playing soccer, “She can play ball with me?”

“If you are patient and let her grow a little,” you tell him.

“But that can only happen if you share Mommy,” Javier says from beside you. Lucas’ excitement fades in a brief moment and he suddenly looks shy in the same way he does when he’s meeting strangers. It turns into sulking not a moment later, his eyes in his lap and you and Javier sharing a look. 

“Mijo (My son),” Javier says eventually and runs a gentle hand over his son’s hair. He accepts the touch, crawling out of your embrace to cuddle up to his father. Javier caresses his back and Lucas gazes up at him when he starts talking, “Está bién sentirse un poco inseguro. ¿Quizás quieras decir hola (It’s okay to feel a little unsure. Maybe you would like to say hello)?”

“Go on, baby,” you smile as a way to reassure, arching your back a little in your position to push your belly further out. 

Javier points to it, “She’s in there right now.”

Lucas stares for a moment before kneeling by you on the bed. Javier reaches out to place a hand just above your belly button and Lucas follows a second after, “Hi Inés. I’m your big brother and you are my little sister.”

“That’s good, Lucas,” both you and your husband praise. Javier pulls back his hand but only so he can wrap both arms around Lucas’ torso from behind. He talks softly, “Go on. Inés can hear you even if she’s inside mamá’s tummy.” 

“Papá says you can play ball with me but I think he is lying. Eres una bebita (you are a little baby),” he says with a little more confidence. 

Warmth surges through your body and tears well up in your eyes, hormones rushing through your system. Your heartbeat picks up at the sight of your boy being a true copy of his father’s gentleness, such a natural at welcoming his baby sister into his own world. You want to move and kiss his little face, lit up with anticipation, but you don’t want to pass up the opportunity to have Lucas bond with his sibling, so you ache silently to hold your son close. 

Javier, as if he has read your mind, does it instead. He leans his head over Lucas’ shoulder and presses a tender kiss to his chubby cheek. Lucas crinkles his nose and squirms but suddenly cannot seem to stop talking. He tells Inés about his favorite teddy bear, about a book you read to him last night, and even about how she can borrow his toys sometimes if she asks. 

And then it happens and you barely believe it. Inés kicks you at the sound of her older brother’s voice, causing your stomach to jump underneath his tiny hand. Your breath catches in your throat and an expression of wonder flashes on Lucas’ face. He pulls back in shock but giggles loudly from slight uncertainty. He looks up at you to make sure everything is okay and you blink a few happy tears away to keep him focused. You nod, “She’s saying hi to you, baby.”

“Hi, Inés!” Lucas says loudly and with a smile. He beams and rocks back and forth on his knees, patting your pregnant belly in the most gentle manner he can manage in his excitement, “When will she play with me?”

“She’ll be born any day now,” Javier answers and you can hear his voice wavering with emotion. He swallows thickly and tries to hide his tears as well, “And then you can get to know her.”

You close your eyes with a relieved sigh at how quickly Lucas’ attitude has changed at the idea of a forever playmate, content in the moment you are having with the two boys in your life. You get a flash of the new routine that you are about to experience and settle into, and in your mind, Lucas is the sweetest older brother, patient and kind in everything he does. 

“Alright, mijo (my son), say goodnight to mamá y Inés, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” Javier says and begins to get out of bed when Lucas’ eyes have started to droop and he keeps reaching up to itch them. 

“Goodnight, Inés!” Your son says loudly at your belly to which you laugh quietly. He then lowers his voice and crawls to hug you, “Goodnight, mamá.”

“Goodnight, sweetie, te quiero tanto (I love you so much),” you rub his back and hold him close for a long while, smiling up at Javier as you embrace. He smiles back at you, not needing to say anything because you know that he is telling you how much he loves all three of you. 

When Lucas has gotten his goodnight kiss, he takes Javier’s hand and lets himself be led out of the room to his bed. You can hear him talk all the way down the hallway.

When Javier enters the bedroom again, he switches off the big light and crawls into bed with you. After giving you a kiss, he fluffs his pillow and lays down with his body facing yours, “You okay, baby?”

You reach for him and brush hair out of his face, “I think I made the right choice to make you my baby daddy. You’re so amazing with him.”

“I think my wife needs to sleep soon, she’s speaking nonsense,” he teases, taking your wrist in his hand to kiss it. 

“Wish I could, but my feet are so sore,” you complain with a sigh and try to get comfortable in your sitting position, “And I miss sleeping lying down.”

Javier clicks his tongue in sympathy and moves to sit again, “I’m sorry, mi vida (my life), I wish I could remove your discomfort.”

“It’s fine,” you entwine your fingers and place them underneath your belly, “Not long now. I’m just warming up for sleepless nights.”

He chuckles softly, “Inés will be a Daddy’s girl. You’ll get plenty of sleep, I’ll make sure of it.”

“You are winning a whole lot of points right now, husband,” you say and accept a string of kisses to your lips. 

“And if I ask you if you want me to give your feet a rub? What then, wife?” He raises his brows with a smirk.

“I think you might have hit the jackpot,” you grin and wiggle your toes.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[simplymakkari]

I posted 2,597 times in 2022

That's 1,037 more posts than 2021!

119 posts created (5%)

2,478 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@amazinggraceling

@jennathearcher

@somethingscarlet13

@robiinbuckley

@sirgnomethegiant

I tagged 1,773 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#eternals - 283 posts

#druig - 193 posts

#makkari - 192 posts

#drukkari - 164 posts

#moon knight - 129 posts

#stranger things - 99 posts

#inbox - 90 posts

#tumblr asks - 85 posts

#steven grant - 76 posts

#answered ask - 67 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#makkari just hearing his vibrations when he's snoring and thinking its hilarious to record him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Please write some Drulkari sex headcanon.

Love all your fics! The lastest fic makes me tear up🥲

oh boy get that fan ready 😏

Druig and Makkari have definitely tried out every sex position known to mankind at least once (there is absolutely no way they've haven't and swung both ways.) Also they've definitely fucked on every surface of the Domo and Ajak's house just because they can (which led to some pretty awkward walk-ins from their family. Phastos has definitely caught them fucking in his lab, much to his dismay.)

Druig likes to leave the light on wherever they are so he can see Makkari and so she can read his lips and his signs and Druig to her. Makkari loves the consideration and thoughtfulness. Most of time, Makkari doesn't mind the dark and they're extremely attentive to each other, even without signing and she signs one-handed the usual stuff like -- deeper, harder, faster, there -- against his back or his chest for his benefit.

In a modern AU, Makkari likes to send sexy tease pics to Druig at work. Druig gets pretty flustered over her and can't stop thinking about her the whole day. Makkari plays innocent when he gets home. Druig just immediately strips and is down bad and horny af and says "D'ye know what ye do to me the whole day? C'mere." Sometimes they don't even make it into the bedroom and just fuck wherever they are -- wall, floor, table, couch, kitchen, no surface is untouched haha

Druig really, really loves Makkari's thighs/legs (c'mon have you seen those legs of hers?) and loves to kiss and run his hands all over them. He'll fuck between the gap of her thighs when she lets him. Makkari likes to tease him with this sometimes until he begs to be inside her.

Makkari likes to (kinda choke) put her hand on Druig's throat tenderly and vice versa. Druig knows it helps her know when he comes close. Druig is extremely vocal for Makkari and gets extremely mouthy and she loves feeling his ✨️ vibrations and moans ✨️ under her palm. Druig talks nonstop to her, tells her how good she feels, whispers encouragements in Irish and English for her. Makkari goes nuts for his voice and his accent and Druig purposely drops his voice sometimes and makes it deeper so she can feel the bass.

In sex, they definitely meet halfway but switch it up occasionally -- Makkari loves being fast but she'll take the slow, teasing pace from Druig and Druig loves being slow and teasing but he loves it when Makkari uses her speed to her advantage and it makes him feel like his dick is gonna fall off but oh boy, it's so worth it for him.

They definitely like to tease each other as foreplay and throughout their sessions. Druig just whispering "D'ye know what I'm gonna do to ye?" and Makkari just challenging him (sometimes she challenges him how quiet he can be and vice versa and Druig is extremely mouthy.) They make a bet sometimes to see how much they can come in one night and what limits they can push. There's a certain element of playfulness during their sessions as well and the neediness for close contact for them.

Druig seems like he is a pleaser and his duty is satisfy Makkari in anyway she wants. The second she gives him ✨️ those (bedroom) eyes ✨️, he just drops whatever he's doing and goes to town or poundtown.

Druig would eat Makkari's pussy whenever and in whatever location Makkari agreed to. He absolutely loves when she sits on his face. He can't get enough of her.

Makkari loves it when Druig maintains unwavering eye contact with her, whether he's fucking her or eating her out, she is a goner for the way his eyes look when he looks at her when he comes (so, so fucking blue and sometimes his eyes flash gold 🥵)

Druig has a praise!kink and loves when Makkari signs good boy to him. He also has a worship!kink and loves showering and showing Makkari all the love she deserves. Makkari does the same for him, telling him how beautiful he looks underneath her because Druig doesn't get enough compliments like she does. It's up to her to do it for him and she loves the way red blushes across his pale skin. She loves holding onto his biceps (she loves those biceps of his 🥵) when they fuck.

Makkari loves gently pulling and tugging on Druig's hair. She loves the way his hair feels under her fingers and her palms and how soft it is. Druig gets turned on even more whenever she tugs on it.

They both love to kiss and suck on each other's necks (c'mon the way they buried themselves into their necks in the beach scene???) Makkari does it more so to Druig since he loves, treasures and kisses her hands and her fingers.

With Makkari's consent, of course, Druig likes to use his mind control and it helps gives Makkari's hands some rest or to do other things if she wanted. Druig definitely has done some little kinky mind control, like edging Makkari and denying her orgasms at some point in their lives.

They like to do their iconic forehead touch™️ when they come.

They like to hold each other and cuddle or help each other clean up in the aftermath (cause aftercare is super, super hot). They also definitely check in with each other during their sessions as well to make sure everything is going okay.

They both can go hard-core or just sensual, comforting sex.

Makkari likes to steal Druig's clothes or wear his shirt in the aftermath.

Last but not least, their sex life thrives on almost getting caught lol

Druig: "Really, right now, baby?"

Makkari: "Right now. We can be quiet, right? You know you want this."

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66 notes - Posted June 11, 2022

#4

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86 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#3

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89 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

#2

"Makkari can see the blue of his pupils reflecting her own face so clearly when Druig turns fully in her direction, the downcast of his eyes finally flicking up to meet hers, tears glistening on his cheeks, his fingers reaching out, caressing along her jaw."

but stranger things have happened in the nighttime - chapter 4 [read here]

A beautiful, beautiful commission from @seancefemme 🥰

175 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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1,249 notes - Posted April 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[thatvixenchick]

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Tagged by @x-gon-give-it

See Me Through The Trees Ochako didn't remember when she lost consciousness or how. That wasn’t particularly important at the moment, however. She twisted her wrists to test the give of the ropes tying her to the chair, but they were solid.

You're Embarrassing Me...Keep Going “Are you ready to go under?”

“Yes.”

Izuku blinked and then took a moment to reorient himself, Hitoshi’s steadying arm around his waist keeping him from swaying.

Cat in Repose  Izuku knew it was unhealthy to base a large aspect of his personality on how many people he could be friends with, but he couldn’t definitively say if there was anything wrong with being well-liked. It was a point of pride that he could befriend everyone in all of his classes since starting college. Even those who pretended not to like him obviously did. Otherwise, why would they be so obsessed with him?

The Ins and Outs of Dating while Dating “I can’t believe you just asked if I wanted to have sex with other people!” Eita snapped before slamming the bedroom door closed hard enough that it rattled.

Ren moved to lean against the doorframe, checking the doorknob even though he knew it would be locked. “It was just a question.”

“A rude question!”

Any Given Sunday  Tadashi watched as Ainosuke sat on the edge of his enormous bed, skin still flushed from his shower. He had a towel barely hanging onto his hips, the ends gaping enough to show skin right up to his groin. He leaned back on one hand with a content sigh, his other brushing through messy, damp locks. Lidded red eyes locked onto where Tadashi kneeled on the fluffy dog bed in the corner.

Lies of Contention  Darren Peregrine cursed himself non-stop as he stalked his prey through the darkening streets of Fairview city. He should not still be tracking a vampire outside of his territory. That was exactly how Hunters got hurt and vampires got away to warn the others. This lecture had been beaten into everyone at the academy, and yet there he was, breaking the most important rule. 

The Brat Who Cried Wolf  Bucky paused before he could set the lube on the nightstand, his hand hovering midair, a look of concern on his face. Peter cringed, knowing what was coming, but he still whined when Bucky asked, “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

Peter kicked his feet against the mattress like the brat he was. “Buckyyy, you promised!”

Baby, It’s a State of Emergency Outside “I can help someone here!”

Peter threw himself at the reception desk before anyone else could cut in front of him — again. He was exhausted, hangry, and shivering uncontrollably. Perhaps that was his own fault for grabbing a flight through Canada in the middle of winter during an oncoming storm, but shouldn’t Canadian planes be better able to handle the snow? His cursed luck said otherwise considering he was searching for a room due to his delayed flight. Well, him and the rest of the airport.

Acceptance Kiyose bowed to the clerk. “I’m truly sorry. This sort of thing won’t happen again, so I beg that you forgive us. Please allow me to pay for the bread.”

The clerk shuffled uncomfortably, unsure of how to deal with a dom acting so humble. Who could blame the guy? Broom in hand and held before him like a shield, the clerk flicked wary eyes over to Kakeru. “He’s your submissive?”

Rental Agreement “You really didn’t have to do this,” Peter said for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour.

Harry grunted as he lugged his share of the grocery bags up the stairs of Peter’s apartment building. “For someone who has a rich friend, you sure don’t take advantage of the perks.”

I taaag @asheofalltrades @geekmom13 @murieltheawful @nimohtar

[saintobio]

sincerely not. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, adultery, neglect, mentions of phobias, mentions of pregnancy, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, explicit smut, some heartaches

notes. 12.8k words. please proceed with proper caution! thanks so much bby risa for beta-ing @rinstars bae you’re my savior &&& @kazbrkker my love, ur reactions in the rough draft were fun to read tysm hhhh anyways enjoy everyone !! :D

series masterlist -> episode nine

Flying to French Polynesia was a disaster.

You knew it even before you actually arrived at Bora Bora while flying through Gojou’s private jet and spending the worst twelve hours of your life imprisoned in an aircraft 35,000 feet from the ground. It wasn’t the jet lag nor the turbulence that made you wish that you didn’t go, it was the two specific passengers inside the plane that caused your silence for the last seven hours since you left Tokyo.

Sera was clearly not informed of your participation in their special getaway because her wide, gaping eyes stared at you questioningly as soon as she saw you coming out of the McLaren before climbing up the jet. In spite of her initial reaction, she was fast to veil her displeasure by sending you a welcoming smile. A smile that feigned innocence lasting for five seconds before she walked past you along the aisle, hand in hand with the husband that placed his wife in the same enclosed space as his mistress.

Satoru had noticed the shift in your emotions for the past week where he wouldn’t stop checking if you were alright and if something was plaguing your mind. He came home from work earlier than he usually did to make sure that you had dinner together, but most of those nights had passed in silence with neither of you having the backbone to address the elephant in the room. No, there was no elephant to blame for your marital quagmire. Just a broken wife trying to study the behavioral patterns of her husband for being affectionate and loving once, then detached and distracted the next. You could not tell him that you had seen him tracking Sera’s cycle on his phone, but you doubted that he would care enough that it shattered your heart to pieces thinking about how actively intimate they have been behind your back. It was already unbearable to see her intimate photos on his phone, but to also see how your husband was constantly monitoring her ovulation was just the absolute zenith of your agony.

Gojou had no idea how much he would completely annihilate your heart and soul if he truly ended up getting his mistress pregnant. Whether that was his intention or not, you could no longer find an excuse to stay with him if it happened.

Why has your marriage turned into shambles in less than a year? What did you do to deserve this mess of a relationship when you have always been genuine from the very beginning?

Despite life’s vicissitudes, you chose to see color in your achromatic world. It was your only way of keeping your positivity because you would rather be a sunshine than a storm. Satoru would have it coming one day, but today just wasn’t it.

You were becoming blasé to his brazen display of infidelity to the point that you were simply letting him do what he wanted without so much of a complaint. It wasn’t a free pass to step on your dignity, rather, a reason to pile up all the dirt that you have received like how a lawyer would gather evidence prior to actioning a case. You weren’t a lawyer for sure, but you could use the same tactic before reacting unreasonably. You had to hold onto your last string of pride in order not to become more pathetic than you already appeared to be.

It was better to pretend that everything was fine instead of showing your weakness in front of him. It was better to avoid his line of sight, choosing to join his best friends in playing a game of cards than be the third wheel in an unlawful relationship that made you the villain.

There was unease in Ieiri’s eyes as she laid down her card, pressing her boysenberry lips together when she glanced at the couple from the farther side of the plane. You couldn’t make out what she was seeing because you were facing her in a seating arrangement that had your back turned against your husband. Getou, who was sitting next to you, could sense the tension when he peeked at what was behind for a split second.

Why, you could ask yourself, did you even come? The question should be: why not? Even if he didn’t admit it, Satoru clearly wanted to make use of you by asking you to join the trip so that no one would suspect him of his true nature as an adulterous 25 year-old man. In return, you wanted to make use of this trip as an ultimatum for your consistency as the perpetually sympathetic wife. This trip would be the deciding factor for you to open your eyes to the downfall of your marriage.

You had become a time bomb—ready to detonate everything else around you with one wrong move.

You didn’t really believe your husband’s words when he said that he wanted to enjoy Bora Bora with you because only a person with thick skin could try to cajole his wife to his advantage. None of this trip was planned for you, but for Sera. Even if he said otherwise.

“Man, I don’t feel too good about this trip,” said Suguru, arranging the deck of cards to play another round of poker with Shoko. You tried to focus on drawing the details of the dress that you were designing until he spoke again. “Feel like something bad’s gonna happen.”

A pensive sigh then escaped your lips as you momentarily looked at the window to see the fuliginous skies. If Getou could sense an omen of things to come, you tried to lift up the mood by offering a smile. “You guys say this is a yearly trip?” you began, putting down your iPad and pen. “How did it all start?”

Ieiri took the chance to answer. “Like maybe four years ago? It’s pretty funny ‘cause it was a last minute thing. We were at a cafe and Gojou was joking about flying to Bora Bora right after he saw the advertisement on a pamphlet,” she reminisced the memory with glee in her eyes, “then Suguru dared him to take us there, and that motherfucker really did! We didn’t even get to pack anything—he made us ride the PJ on the same day with nothing but our passports.”

“I remember that day. He’s a bit of a show off, isn’t he?” Getou grinned at you and Ieiri.

You tell me. It seemed that Satoru could always make things happen if he wanted to. “The first time sounds really fun and spontaneous,” you claimed, drinking from the glass of wine on your table. “Satoru spoils the people that he loves.”

With that being said, he loved his best friends as much as he loved Sera. They were the only ones he would willingly spend a fortune to just to guarantee their happiness. Unfortunately, the man didn’t include you in his personal guest list of the people that he genuinely loved. Regardless of the fact that you were his wife, you were already aware that he would never willingly spend time with you. Iceland was out of the question because that whole honeymoon trip was simply obligatory for him.

“Aww. Well, I know he’ll spoil you.” Shoko's statement was laced with an iota of pity. “Satoru’s just… if you give him some time.”

You had given enough, but there was a limit to everything. You could offer your whole universe and there still wouldn’t be a remedy to your failed marriage. How pathetic. For a moment, your eyes dropped down to the gold band around your finger and remembered that Satoru strangely wore his ring when you left the penthouse. What act was he trying to pull this time?

And within the next twenty minutes that passed, you happened to have seen your husband when you went out of the lavatory for a quick bathroom break. He was in a detached recliner seat, draped in a blanket with his arms tightly wrapped around Sera as they slept soundly through the flight. The sight brought a lingering sting to your heart and made you stagnant for a moment as you walked slowly past the aisle. You tried to ignore the gnawing ache that burned your chest until Satoru opened his eyes to see you the first thing.

“Y/N.” His call forced you to halt from your footsteps. Sera shifted from his embrace, eyes still shut as she snuggled on the crook of his neck. Satoru had a minute of panic that bathed in his eyes when he realized that your name unknowingly flew out of his mouth and now he was pretending that he actually forgot what he called you for. “Where are you sitting?”

You kept a stolid mien for your own sake. “With your friends.” Because my own husband chose to neglect his wife for his mistress.

Why did it even matter to him? Did he want you to sit with him and Sera so you could watch how caring and affectionate he was to her? Did he want you to juxtapose yourself from previously being on the receiving end of his skinship and now on the far side of it?

Before you knew it, your feet already carried you away while his eyes followed your trail as you continued walking, making a desperate attempt to avoid him by going back to where Shoko and Suguru were. The two friends had visible empathy on their faces when they looked at you knowing that you saw your husband and his mistress entangled on each other.

But for your sanity, you didn’t succumb to your weak feelings. “I’m back,” you put on your mask of cheerfulness.

Ieiri moved from her seat to give you space and it was too obvious not to notice how she was admiring your ability to remain strong in a situation where you should be broken. “Y/N, can I see your new designs? Mai would have geeked over them.”

“I was actually designing a new one for her and Maki,” you shared, grabbing your iPad and browsing through your collection. “I’m planning to have the dresses made when we get back to Japan then I’ll ask Toji to give it—” Shoot.

The last thing you should have done was to mention the man.

“Toji? As in Toji Zen’in?” Getou’s narrow eyes became surprisingly round. “You’re close with him?”

You let out an awkward laugh. “Kinda, but not really. He knows Gen pretty well, though.”

Suguru smirked in good humor. “Damn. Satoru’s not gonna be happy.”

Ieiri countered the guy’s words by voicing her own thoughts. “He’s literally playing house with Sera. Who cares if he isn’t happy?” You were surprised when she suddenly pulled both of your hands on top of the table and squeezed it in comfort. “Tell me honestly, how do you feel about this whole cheating thing?”

You held your breath. It was hard for you to open up because your marriage was a private affair, something that you wished for no one else to pry into. If only Shoko’s eyes weren’t filled with genuine concern, you wouldn’t have given her an honest answer. “I’m not happy with it,” you stated the obvious, following the slow rise and fall of your chest. “I’m just letting this happen because I have hopes that it’ll end someday.”

Getou looked down as if he was burdened with shame. “He really doesn’t deserve you, huh…”

“Y/N.” Ieiri leaned closer to gaze straight into your orbs. “End their affair after this trip. Don’t let it drag for too long. Satoru’s my friend, but I can’t stand what he’s doing. You should claim your right as his wife and fight for him.”

You opened your mouth to say something because you highly appreciated her encouragement for you to uphold your position as the lawful wife, but then no words have left your lips after you remembered why everything ended up this way in the first place.

Because of this arranged marriage, Satoru had to marry another woman instead of the one that he loved. He wasn’t willing to let her go nor was she ready to free him from her grasp. This was all your fault, he said. Pay the repercussions, he said. You’re already blessed with everything you can ask for, she said.

What else was left for your self-worth?

With it being your first time in Bora Bora, it was expected for you to be in complete awe when you arrived at the destination. You couldn’t express much of your appreciation towards the beautiful islets due to the situation relating to your husband and his mistress, but your eyes still wandered around the place to admire God’s craft in creating such a paradise on Earth. Being here alone was already a testament to how many gorgeous places were yet to be explored.

“Wow,” you gasped with great admiration, turning your head from left to right as you took slow strides on the elevated walkway. For what Bora Bora was renowned for, there were bungalows perched over the crystal waters on stilts—a peaceful haven with floating thatched-roof villas above the clear sea in varying hues of blue, perfect for couples in a romantic honeymoon to enjoy their first stages of marriage.

The warm breeze and the smell of fresh ocean greeted your nose, tempting you to jump on the waters to bask under the sun. But then you remembered who you were with on this trip after getting momentarily lost and distracted from the luxurious oasis through the summer heat. As you turned around, you saw Gojou intertwining his hand with Sera’s as she smiled at him while gushing about how much she missed the place. You could see how his eyes coruscated with love at the sight of her radiant face as though she was the only one who could make him as happy as he was now.

Satoru’s affections were only evanescent when it came to you. Sera was and would always be the recipient of his permanent love.

You had to force yourself to look away knowing that it would only add more wounds to your heart—grateful that Shoko looped her arm around yours with Suguru standing on your other side. “You guys,” you swallowed your weakness back in by plastering a smile, “this island is stunning.”

“Right?” Ieiri adjusted her sun hat and nudged you on the rib. “Should we go scuba diving?”

“Jet skiing is better.” You weren’t expecting Satoru to chime in as he and Sera stopped in front of you like a newlywed couple who couldn’t get enough of each other. And while he was holding another woman’s hand, his vivid cerulean eyes lingered on you as he spoke again. “Ever tried it before?”

You didn’t answer him. You refused to. Instead, you looked at Suguru and pointed towards the parasail from a distance. “Look, it’s what you and Shoko were talking about on the plane.”

The tension was real when you ignored your husband, but Ieiri and Getou saved the awkward air by entertaining you, although you certainly didn’t miss the glances that they traded with the white-haired man. It was Satoru’s best man who put a friendly arm around your shoulder and continued the walk with you. “You should try parasailing with us,” Getou encouraged, orbs hidden from the crescents of his eyes.

You would love to join them, but the thought of ending up submerged underwater in the vastness of the ocean was too terrifying. “I don’t think I can—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Gojou? Welcome to the InterContinental.”

Instinctively, you turned around to face the owner of the voice only to see the man—who looked like the owner of the luxury hotel—was talking to Satoru and Sera as the apparent married couple. You tried to suppress the bitter scoff that almost passed through your lips because it surely sent tiny pricks to your chest to see Sera being mistaken as the wife.

However, instead of correcting the man, Sera got the confidence to tighten her hold on your husband’s arm so she could lean her head against him. “It’s nice to be back.”

“Well, I’d congratulate Mr. Gojou for marrying such a gorgeous wife,” the man complimented her, which earned you glances from Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. All except for Sera who beamed from the flattering remarks that should have been for you. “We’ve prepared the largest villa and the rooms are all ready as well. Please enjoy your stay. If you need anything, our staff will be more than happy to help.”

This was a painful slap to your face and you didn’t want to stay another second enduring it all. You haven’t even spent an hour in Bora Bora and you were already emotionally battered from everything that you’ve had to stomach thus far. You could only imagine how bad things would be for the next two days and this might end up leaving a huge scar on you, even worse than the Iceland trip which was the pinnacle of Satoru’s journey to putting you in your place.

You were already storming out before any of them made a move because you wanted nothing else but to lock yourself in a room and stay away from Gojou for the rest of the trip. You ignored Ieiri’s calls when you rushed inside the villa, claiming one of the four bedrooms and placing your duffel on the bed before you sat on the edge of it with a frustrated sigh. It was truly insulting to see your own husband not denying when another woman was mistaken as his wife, but what did you expect, really? He dreamed of having Sera as his wife for God knows how long. You already fooled yourself that one morning thinking that your recent lovemaking was a sign of progress to your relationship, that his drunken admissions and childhood reminiscences were improving your marriage—you hated that you fell for it when here he was now allowing Sera to take your spot as his wife.

There was no need to sugarcoat this. You were simply a placeholder for his true love.

You get it. This trip was all about her and you were just expected to be in the background all throughout. In that case, why did Satoru follow you inside your room? Why did he leave his stuff in your bed, crouching down to look at your face with worry-filled eyes?

Did he want to share a room with you because it was an obligation? Well, no one was watching for him to still keep up with his stupid act.

“You know I had no choice,” he tried to explain, placing his hands atop yours, “She was looking forward to the trip and I couldn’t tell her that it’s not right for her to come anymore.”

You gulped and pushed his hand away without sparing him a glance. “Why are you explaining things to me? Didn’t you wanna spend time with her, anyway?”

His bullshit was tiring. You knew for a fact that he could care less if Sera came because he would rather spend his sweet time with her, always have and always would. Unlike your honeymoon in Iceland where he was lackadaisical for ninety percent of the trip, he was actually more enthusiastic about this one because his romantic adventures were always better with Sera. He didn’t need to say it for you to put the puzzle pieces together.

Satoru fixed his composure, sliding his dark sunglasses out of his face as he tried to appear impassive. “Because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he asserted, arms caged on either side of your thighs, “and you’ve been so cold to me for the past week for no reason. What’s your problem?”

The audacity of this man. He would tell you not to get the wrong idea for ‘unintentionally inviting his mistress’ but would also shamelessly parade her around while treating her like a queen.

With this in mind, you erupted into a soft but spiteful laugh. “Does that even matter? You can do what you want. I’ll stay out of your way since I know my boundaries. I’m just here to save your image.”

“Y/N—”

Remembering the words he said during your time in Iceland, you returned it back. “Let me rest.” You pushed his arm away, climbing into your bed and turning your back on him. “I need some sleep.”

You already had your eyes closed when you heard his exasperated huff and you were left with a hollow heart when he slammed the door shut as if it was heavily frustrating for him that you were becoming detached and defiant. Satoru seemed to have always hated it when you rejected his presence because he had grown accustomed to you being his patient wife who showered him with affection despite his bare minimum treatment. The sweet and caring wife that would wake up at six-thirty in the morning every day just to prepare his breakfast and business attire. The wife that would leave post-it notes on the fridge with the words: Eat some fruit, drink water, and start your day with a smile :)

Yes. You wouldn’t deny how stupid you were for trying to make your marriage work. Because every time you believed that you had already built a strong wall against Satoru, he would always find a way to destroy it. And you would always find a way to let him in, forgiving him for his never-ending games.

You knew that you would always be standing by his side when he needed you, but since he didn’t seem to require much of your presence with Sera around, you might as well learn to distance yourself for now.

By ‘distancing yourself’, you meant sleeping for the next four hours to recover from your lassitude. You figured that it was better to shut yourself out instead of summoning your masochistic side when the pain was so deadly you might as well be buried six feet under. No one bothered you during your slumber because the villa was silent when you woke up again. The room needed more lighting as the sun was finally closing down by the time you opened your eyes. It was eventide, you realized.

When you regained the strength and motivation to get up from bed, you could tell that Ieiri and Getou might have toured around with Sera and Gojou while you were fast asleep in your room. They had fun on their own while you chose to be alone and only now did you have the chance to take a leisurely meander through the extensive walkway that connected all the overwater bungalows which were what Bora Bora was famous for.

The cool wind rippled the surface of the sea, creating waves and soothing sounds that enabled your mind to relax as you found your spot on one corner, overlooking the horizon of twilight skies in blue and gold where the clouds began to glow with colors at nautical dusk. You marveled at the spectacular mixture of colors as the wind that blew your hair back, listening to the soft sound of the crashing waves that made a painting come to life.

You had to appreciate Earth’s beauty and how grateful you were to be in a privileged position that gave you the chance to see such astounding views that you wouldn’t see on a typical day.

Perhaps, in an alternate universe, your husband had his arms wrapped around your waist as you two watched the sunset on this romantic hour. Maybe you were happy in that universe, having your spouse whisperering I love you’s in your ear, telling you that you were the only woman in his eyes and that he was happy to have married you.

“It must be tough chasing after a man who doesn’t love you.”

The serenity that you’ve found from the susurration of the sea was cut short as you turned around to see the Camilla of your Charles. Eyes as brown as the color of her hair, lips limned with a mulberry tint like the color that stained your husband’s neck. The upward tug of her lips was her attempt to show the lack of malice in her words.

“I can’t believe you’re torturing yourself for coming with us. But honestly, I respect and admire your resilience,” she added, clutching the diamond pendant on her necklace as she stood next to you. “I can understand you have all the time in the world to try and chase after his love since you have nothing going on for you. You’re not busy like the rest of us. All you do is sit at home like a princess and wait for him while he’s in his office spending most of his day with me.”

You wondered how Sera could look so sincere and innocent while throwing knives for sentences in between. It was plain obvious that she was still absurdly angry at you for sleeping with Satoru after she came to the penthouse that morning and your recent appearance in the office seemed to have fueled more of her vexation. But because you weren’t ill-bred, you didn’t lunge on her and ripped her throat out for saying all those mean things. Your best choice was to retaliate with your own words.

“Not as tough as constantly hiding your relationship because you don’t wanna be labeled as the mistress when that’s really what you are,” you told her, and there was shock that lingered in her eyes until you continued with a smile. “In everyone’s eyes, no one cares about who’s the first love. People care about who’s the one that they married.”

Sera’s smile was nonetheless to veil her growing ire. “Don’t get carried away. Your marriage is loveless. I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself when you know he feels miserable with you.”

When Ieiri told you to end their affair and stake your claim as the rightful wife, you already imagined that a confrontation with Sera could finally do the job. You thought that you could stand on your ground and hold your chin up high because that was how it was supposed to be, and yet with her simple utterance of the fact that Gojou was miserable with you, you lost all of your will to fight for him.

You couldn’t fight for someone who never wanted to be with you in the first place.

“I really like you as a person, Y/N.” She released a sigh, averting her eyes to gaze at the sun disappearing below the horizon. “You’re kind and soft-spoken. It’s your status and selfishness that I don’t like.”

With a still breath, you spoke through gritted teeth. “Selfish?” A humorless laugh followed. It was unbelievable how you were seen as ‘selfish’ when you’ve been willingly allowing her to sneak around with your husband after she literally begged for it.

“You get everything you want ‘cause you’ve been spoiled that way,” she pointed out. “Meanwhile, I have to work hard to get to where I am. I have to endure rude bosses, render overtime even on holidays, and strictly calculate my savings and budget for my family. You don’t understand how hard life is for people like us. Satoru is the only blessing I’ve received in life, so I’ll never let him go.”

You didn’t know what to say in this situation because you couldn’t exactly comment about her hardships in life. Even if you tried to defend yourself and tell her that problems in life came in different forms, you knew that she would still make it all about her. Everything was about her struggles and hardships, never about your agony and suffering.

However, the conversation did lead you to trespass a topic that had been bugging you to no end. “You say you’ll never let him go. Does that mean you’re still waiting around for him even when he’s married?” you questioned in utter disbelief. “You don’t care if you end up pregnant someday when he’s legally bound to his wife?”

Instead of answering you directly, she countered you with a question. “Are you scared that I’d get pregnant before you do?”

Your heart raced. Anger? Hurt? You couldn’t tell which one weighed more. So the two of them aren’t really doing it safe, you assumed in your head, taking a deep breath before you could explode.

A pitiful look appeared on her small, delicate face. “Just know that if I end up having his kid…” she paused before she shifted on her feet to take her leave, “…I’d end up having him, too.”

Gojou knew he could be insensitive sometimes—or most times—but he was being true when he said that he wasn’t intentionally doing it. He was all over Sera since the trip began because that was how things were before you came to the picture. Him, Sera, and his friends on a getaway. He held her hand, kissed her, and spent time with her because they were boyfriend and girlfriend before he ever married you.

With all the aforementioned, it was quite odd that he was feeling incredibly guilty for simply doing what he usually did. It wasn’t like you even screamed at his face calling him a cheater for having Sera around. You were pretty lenient about them so he couldn’t understand why he was the one who was bothered by your lack of resistance to his actions. Satoru despised how you would ignore him because he was getting more and more confused by how he felt.

To boost his stupidity even more, he never should have allowed Sera to join in the first place. This trip should have been just you, him, and his best friends. If he was going to spend time with Sera, then he could have just taken her without dragging you along to avoid all the tension that was surrounding you now. Maybe Satoru could have had more guts to explain that to Sera even if she wouldn’t be too happy to hear it.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, loosening the knot on his robe as he walked outside to find some peace of mind on the villa’s elevated pool area.

Suguru joined him as the man sat on one of the sun loungers with a cigarette between his lips. “You two-timing fucker,” he bluntly quipped, seemingly finding humor in Satoru’s dilemma. “How does it feel to have your wife and mistress in the same house?”

Gojou looked up at the blanket of stars. “Sera’s not a mistress,” he corrected, then added, “and Y/N isn’t even saying anything.”

There was a knowing glint in Getou’s eyes. “Just because she isn’t saying anything doesn’t mean it’s all okay to her.”

“Man. What do you want me to do?” He wasn’t exactly snapping. It just frustrated him how he didn’t know how to handle the situation without hurting the other. “I do wanna spend more time with my wife, but Sera expects me to be with her 24/7 because this is our only chance to freely be together.”

Suguru tossed the cigarette to the wooden floor and killed the ember by stomping his foot on it. “Listen to yourself,” he commanded. “Now Sera’s becoming an obligation for you and Y/N isn’t. You can’t have both. This situation isn’t livable.”

Did Gojou really sound that way? He couldn’t even clear out his statement because he got distracted when he saw you heading towards your room with a heavy frown on your face, determined to lock yourself again until Shoko blocked your way.

“Y/N, don’t tell me you’re gonna stay in bed again?” Ieiri’s voice was loud enough for the two gentlemen to hear. “Let’s chill outside for a while!”

Satoru could hear how his best friend snorted under his breath when he saw the look on Gojou’s face and just how tempted he was at trying to talk to his wife. Confusion clouded his head as he completely froze when Ieiri dragged you to the pool area and urged you to take your place near your husband.

“We went kayaking while you were sleeping. You should have been with us,” said Ieiri, now lighting her own cigarette as you stood at a reasonable distance from Gojou. He pulled you close by wrapping an arm around your waist, but you were fast to stop his wrist before you moved to sit next to Suguru instead.

What the hell?

And throughout your subtle disregard for Satoru, Getou was only finding the situation even more humorous. “You have to join us tomorrow, Y/N,” the best friend insisted. “Can’t miss out on all the fun activities.”

“I prefer sightseeing, really,” you admitted, then revealing why you couldn’t exactly join. “I have Thalassophobia.”

Shoko seemed intrigued. “Wait, like fear of water?”

“You’re not afraid of water. You swim at our pool back home.” Satoru walked towards the mini bar to grab a bottle of Macallan, pouring himself a glass before leaning against the rattan table.

You dismissed their assumptions, although you were gearing towards speaking to Getou and Ieiri more than your husband. “No, it’s fear of what lurks beneath its surface. It’s the deep bodies of water that scares me the most, like… if my feet can’t touch the ground, I’d tremble. I have wild imaginations on what creatures could be under me.”

Ieiri tilted her head in curiosity. “That’s so interesting. I didn’t know people have that kind of phobia.”

“Nah, I think it’s common,” Suguru asserted while leaning on the cushion behind him. “There are so many types of phobias that we don’t even know of. Someone could even invent Gojouphobia one day.”

The man of honorable mention simply shook his head. “Very funny.” Although he must admit, it was the first time he had seen you chuckling in a while and it brought some ease to his heart to see you smiling again.

For the whole conversation, Satoru just couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away from you. His blue orbs were glued on your face, watching the way you pressed your lips together or the way your eyelids fluttered with every blink. At one point, he had to clear his throat just to distract himself, “You weren’t that scared when you took a swim in the blue lagoon.”

Even if he was trying to converse with you, you were still adamant on not meeting his gaze. “Don’t you fucking bring up Iceland.”

It seemed that mentioning Iceland was a trigger for you and Satoru didn’t realize how upsetting the whole trip must have been that you were avoiding any reminiscence about your honeymoon. Had he been too mean to you back then? The marriage was fresh and Gojou was full of bitterness at the time—he must not have realized how harsh he had treated you.

Because of the uncomfortable silence, Shoko took the chance to change the topic. “I swear to God, I almost lost my diamond earring when Suguru pushed me to the ocean—”

“Alright, Kim K. There’s people that are dying,” Getou mocked, only to receive a ball of tissue thrown to his face.

“Shut up!”

“Make me.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Gojou sniggered at the two. “I think he is.”

And in the middle of their banter, Satoru had almost forgotten about Sera until she came out of the room in a similar robe like what he was wearing, joining the rest of you at the poolside on this starry evening. “Hey, guys.”

You didn’t even acknowledge her with a fake smile the way Shoko and Suguru did.

“Hey, Sera.” Ieiri shifted into an awkward stance and Gojou could read through her body language that Sera made her uncomfortable. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just took a quick shower.” Sera didn’t hesitate in keeping Satoru enveloped within her arms, clinging onto his torso as if to claim him in front of everyone. There was no ounce of shame when she tiptoed to peck his lips and leaned her head against his toned chest. She did it before, she did it many times prior to this trip, but why did Gojou feel strangely hurt when he saw how you sunk back to your seat and looked away? “Satoru promised we’ll spend the night at the jacuzzi.”

You let out a humorless laugh, gazing at the floor. “That’s really romantic.”

The sarcasm that laced your voice made Satoru hold his breath. What was he supposed to say?

“It really is,” cooed Sera, snuggling closer to feel his warmth. Utter silence dominated amongst the soft sound of the splashing waves. The luminescent moon stared at all five of you with great interest because there was nothing more interesting than to see a dramatic scene unfolding between the husband, the wife, and the mistress. Since when did Gojou’s life turn into a movie?

“I’m exhausted, I’ll call it a night,” you announced, taking the initiative to get up and leave. Not once did you try to meet Satoru’s gaze. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Your exit gained Suguru and Shoko’s “me too” and “me three” as they also made a haste move to leave the couple alone. It was only 9PM and Gojou was sure as hell that none of his two best friends would have decided to go to bed this early if it wasn’t for the guilt that would eat them if they stayed.

Confrontations were not in your repertoire, but Satoru believed that it would have been better to receive your brutal words than to see you completely avoiding his existence like he was as invisible as air.

“Hey.” The knit on Sera’s brows recollected Satoru back to his reality—with her. She would never allow him to think of anyone else but her this time. “The night is ours.”

He didn’t want to break his promise and he tried his utmost best to give one hundred percent of his focus to the woman that he loved, especially now that he had the chance to be all alone with her. This was what he wanted and he had to remind himself of that. While he should’ve uninvited Sera, this was still the perfect chance to spend a romantic getaway with her at one of the most beautiful islands in the world. If the opportunity was there presenting itself, who was he to completely disregard it?

He wanted Sera, not you. He wanted all of her, not even a little bit of you. Satoru needed to wake up and refrain from allowing his mind to fly to the wife that he supposedly hated.

He should be having fun since it was relaxing to sit in a hot jacuzzi surrounded by vanilla-scented candles and rose petals. It was the perfect honeymoon for newlyweds, something that he could have done with you in Iceland instead of the bullshit he pulled back there that permanently left a scar on you.

Sighing, he leaned against the tub and waited for Sera to come back just as he received a notification from his phone. Without a second to spare, he grabbed the gadget that was placed at the edge of the tub and checked what the alert was about.

Day of Ovulation - High Chance of Pregnancy Today

But you just had yours a week ago, right? Gojou was well aware of your cycle because he would often check your phone to look at it. He didn’t even remember installing the app on his phone, so he had no single idea why it was even in there. Did he perhaps do it while he was drunk?

Somehow, his question was answered when he clicked on the notification and saw the label “Sera’s Cycle” written on top. The wideness of his eyes was solely because of his realization that this damn app might have been one of the reasons why you had veen cold to him.

“Sorry it took me so long.” Sera cut him out of his trance when she returned, quickly apologizing for her momentary absence. “I was trying to look for a nice swimsuit but couldn’t pick one.”

Satoru chose not to beat around the bush when he faced her. “Did you put your period tracker on my phone?”

By watching her emotions intently, he was able to see the look of panic that bathed her eyes before she gathered an honest response. “Yeah, since you’ve been acting all weird about the condom thing last time so I put it on there,” she explained, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Why? Did she see and complain about it?”

Fuck. Gojou needed to calm himself down because his head was boiling just like the foam that bubbled in the jetted-tub. “No, she didn’t say anything but she’s mad at me about it.”

“So, what?” Sera’s irritation grew while she undid the knot on her robe, revealing her stark naked body in front of him without any scintilla of shyness in her bones. Oh. Satoru breathed deeply and eyed every curve that was of ample proportions. “Why does it matter so much to you if she’s mad?”

She was already climbing in the tub, crawling forward to straddle the man’s lap who now had his large hands on her buttocks. He tried to look at her eyes instead of her busty chest. “I just don’t like how she’s giving me the cold shoulder. What if… our fathers’ notice?”

Bullshit. Sera rolled her eyes because she could see the pretentious lies hidden in his words. “Remember what you said to me back in your car?” The woman pressed her bare chest against his toned ones, feathering kisses along his jaw until her breath fanned his thin but plump lips as they brushed. “You said she doesn’t have you.”

“Mhm.” Gojou kneaded her bum.

“So stick by it,” now those words held more persuasion as her chocolate orbs pierced through his diamond blues. “It’s not like you’re gonna stay with her after you get what you need.” Right. You were merely a tool for his ascendancy in the company. Sera was the one who put him back on the right track. “And isn’t it weird enough that you’ve been trying so hard but still couldn’t get her pregnant? Maybe she’s… you know.”

Satoru pulled away to read her expression. “She’s what?” His wife couldn’t be infertile. No. Maybe he wasn’t really just doing it right? Maybe you just need to do it more intimately?

His other woman leaned back and moved her hair to the side in a manner that seduced him of his deepest desires. The palms that gripped her ass were now tracing her curves, reaching to cup her breasts so he could massage the rounded mass. He attached his mouth on the right side of her neck as she arched her back and released her dulcet moans.

“M-Maybe she’s n-not meant to have your baby,” she rasped, grabbing a fistful of white hair. “It’s been a while since we did this, Satoru.”

He hummed, closing his eyes and moving his mouth to kiss her shoulder blades. Despite Sera’s overflowing sultriness, Gojou’s carnal desires were no longer meeting her own. His ardor was no longer at the same level as hers. The emotional connection was no longer present and this was something that he had been afraid of for the longest time.

Afraid that when he started doing it with someone he married, he would lose the same passion for Sera.

If he was true to himself, she could not satiate his needs the same way you would. Sex was different, regardless of the labels, when it was with someone he shared vows with. With you, he could be intimate without worrying about the consequences of pregnancy because you were meant to have his child either way. With Sera, he had to hold back and use contraceptives because it would be a huge scandal if he knocked her up.

He didn’t realize that he stopped Sera’s hand from touching his clothed cock underwater, pulling her wrist before he made a move to get out of the jetted-tub. “Sera, I’m too exhausted,” he made an excuse, “let’s just go to bed.”

Satoru could imagine smoke coming out of her nose with how frustrated she was. “Just tell me. Am I not pretty enough for you?”

Grabbing her robe and stepping out of the tub, she sheathed herself with the cloth and let her glossy eyes afflict him with his guilt. After all, he could go weak on his knees for her.

“No, of course you are. I just don’t wanna do half-assed things with you.” Gojou was fast to deny. “Sera, you’re the prettiest woman in my eyes.”

Her face was rigid and her eyes were lachrymose. “Then say it to her.”

Huh? He brushed a hand on her arm. “Sera—”

“Say it straight to her face how I’m the prettiest in your eyes and that you’ll only ever love me,” she spat, stomping away after adding, “If you don’t do it, you might as well forget about me.”

Gojou hated being given ultimatums because it was putting him on the spot to make decisions without much thought. Sera was well aware of how much he disliked being demanded to do things out of his will, but like the asshole he was, he couldn’t lose her. That was what his mind was telling him.

He was plagued with these deep thoughts even as he joined Sera later that night when they slept in the same bed. This morning, he took his stuff to your bedroom because it became an instinct for him to stay in the same room as you. However, it was Sera who pulled him away telling him how ridiculous he was for even thinking that he should bother staying with you when no one was watching.

The problem was, Satoru couldn’t sleep. At all.

Sera’s warm body held him in a tight embrace as she peacefully submitted to her slumber, but Gojou couldn’t get even a wink of sleep because he knew that he would end up waking up in the middle of the night with how bad his nightmares were getting. This has happened more than once where he couldn’t get himself to reach the stages of REM when he slept next to Sera or anyone else for that matter. Heck, a paradoxical sleep was even more far-fetched when he was alone.

Because of his reasons, he quietly got out of bed at 3AM, tucking Sera under the duvet before he left the room only to transfer to the one on the opposite side.

To you, where he twisted the doorknob as quietly as he could and saw you sleeping in a cute fetal position, allowing him to smoothly slip into bed and wrap his arms around you. You were not awake to feel his warmth, but he was certainly feeling the level of comfort that he needed to finally doze off knowing that you were at arms length away lest he needed your presence to soothe him from his unpleasant dreams.

Getou would have snorted at his face for the ‘two-timing fucker’ that he was, but Gojou couldn’t care less. He didn’t understand what it was like to be caught in such a position.

When you woke up to see Satoru sleeping next to you, you felt disgusted.

Only because you knew what he had done in the other room with his mistress. You knew that they were doing it without any regard for the wife that he met at the altar with vows that he couldn’t fulfill. Why exactly was he even bothering to sleep in the same bed with you? For show? For whatever act he was putting on? You were tired of it.

So instead of waking him up with small kisses on his cheek, you simply rushed out of bed and spent the next thirty-minutes eating breakfast with Suguru and Shoko. Just after exchanging a few conversations about the plans that they had for the day, they then prepared while you ended up having a relaxing time for yourself, basking under the sun as you lay down on one of the sun loungers by the pool in your beige bikini. The view offered a gorgeous landscape of the clear turquoise seas and you knew that you just had to snap a quick photo to post on Instagram.

The picture included half of your glistening body in a sun-lounger overlooking the waters of Bora Bora with the caption: “pov: you’re in a tropical paradise 🏖”. The post quickly garnered likes and comments, especially one from Gen telling you to have a good time and that she was so jealous.

Have a good time? You wished. None of these people lurking in your Instagram knew that you weren’t actually having a great time. Worst of all, they weren’t aware that this trip included your husband's mistress.

On the other hand, you were surprised to see Toji’s comment that it had you chuckling out loud. It was no more than a playful message with an airplane emoji that wrote, ‘✈️ off to paradise’. You didn’t even know that he was following your account until now so you had to click the follow button real quick while stalking his Instagram. There wasn’t anything much to see except some pictures of him and his son traveling around the world. It was clear how much time he had placed to bond with Megumi despite his demanding life as a CEO, making it one of the things that you admire about him—his dedication as a businessman and as a single father.

Your day was going good, but it just had to be ruined when Gojou appeared on your side, taking a seat on the sun lounger adjacent to yours as he grabbed the bottle of sunscreen on your thigh. In an instant, you placed your phone down and looked at him. “Why are you here?”

“Why not?” His response was laced with insouciance. Your husband rubbed the lotion on his arms, protecting himself from the damage that the sun could leave on his fair skin.

“You should be with Sera,” you replied before removing your sunglasses, getting up to leave until he towered over you. At once, the man was unbuttoning his top and holding your wrist simultaneously. “What are you doing?”

A sigh left his lips. “Swimming with you,” he said, then tossing his shirt onto the seat. “Come on. You said you’re scared of the ocean so I’ll swim with you.”

“Satoru, you don’t一”

There was not even a chance for you to resist because the man already carried you in his arms as you flailed when he walked towards the edge of the platform, climbing down the stairs and submerging both of you under the cool waters of the Bora Bora seas. The anxiety that coursed through your entire body made you wrap your legs around his waist because you couldn’t think of anything else but to try and get yourself to the surface.

“Hey, hey. Relax,” he reassured, caging you around his arm and allowing you to put your arms around his neck. “The water’s clear. No sharks here.”

The water was deeper than you could reach for sure, but since your husband was six foot tall, he was able to walk around. “B-Bring me back to the villa.”

Your muffled pleas were ignored when he swam further into the ocean, now floating from beneath his feet all while pressing his lips into your ear. “Give me a kiss and I will.”

You couldn’t deny that the request gave you a rush of dopamine, forcing your stomach to do somersaults because when Satoru was being sweet and affectionate, it was normally easy for you to give in. However, you have already learned not to let him intoxicate you with meaningless affection.

“No,” you rejected his offer, glaring at his ocean eyes that were of the same hue as the skies and seas alike.

There was a haze of frustration in his eyes before he did it upon himself to lean in and encase your lips around his, moving to lock them in a soft but passionate kiss. The movements of his mouth were in harmony to yours despite your initial refusal to let him plant even the quickest peck. Truth was, his kisses lessened your anxiety because it distracted you from your fear towards the deep bodies of water.

The feeling of his tongue rolling against yours, swirling around just as you breathed through each other’s mouth could have been enough to suffice the week's worth of resentment that you had towards him.

In the end, Gojou knew how to soften your heart.

“Still don’t wanna kiss me now?” He pulled away with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but that cocky visage was immediately replaced by his troubled expression. “We need to talk.”

About what? You clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs tighter around him. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He was your personal buoy in the vastness of the ocean and he knew that the dependency that you had for him now would soon reflect your relationship beyond the high seas. Satoru only wanted you to realize that you needed him just as much as he needed you. “My phone, I know you saw some things in there,” he opened up, treading water to stay afloat. “It’s not what you think. Sera and I haven’t done it since一”

“Stop,” you interrupted before he could finish his sentence. There was pain in your voice, pain that you concealed with ersatz indifference. “I don’t wanna hear what you two are doing. You’re disgusting.”

He was insane for thinking that it was okay for him to talk about his sex life with his mistress. Sometimes you wondered if Satoru’s obliviousness when it came to hurting your feelings was actually intentional. He hated you after all. That, or he was plain stupid.

“I’m just saying,” he defended, pressing his lips on your shoulder. “If that’s what upsets you, then…”

“...Then maybe don’t give me mixed signals?” you said, chest vibrating against his. “Maybe don’t confuse me with your affection because we both know you’re just acting? Didn’t you say that I would never be her? That it’s not cheating when I never had your heart in the first place?”

Your husband was at a loss of words. And you? You moved out of his grip regardless of the fear that consumed you when you rapidly swam your way to the ladder, climbing back into the villa and wrapping yourself with a towel to leave the man who incessantly called for your name.

“Y/N!”

You came across Sera about halfway into the bungalow, but ignored her presence by heading straight to Getou and Ieiri. The two had no idea about the cold exchange that you’ve just had with your husband一all they knew was that you were joining them for their itinerary of having lunch at Bloody Mary’s and going on a jet ski adventure throughout the afternoon.

“You ready?” Suguru asked when he saw you scrambling to put on a sundress on top of your bikini.

“Yeah,” you answered, glancing at Sera and Gojou who just reunited when he attempted to chase after you. He didn’t need to, not when his mistress was there to entertain him now. “Can it just be three of us?”

Your question must have sounded spiteful and Shoko clearly didn’t approve of how you were letting your husband have some private time with his lover, but based on your countenance, she supported your decision. “Sure, Y/N.” Ieiri turned to Gojou and Sera with a smile. “We’ll leave you guys for a while.”

Satoru couldn’t even enjoy this trip because all he did was to overthink about the shit that he was unknowingly doing to hurt you. It was too much for a person to absorb, but he tried to lay down the issues in his head so he could figure it all out. For starters, you were opening up about your displease towards his actions more and more these days as if you were on the brink of falling apart. In contrast to that was Gojou feeling less and less angry with you for the things that he normally would find irritating. He used to antagonize you for being clingy, now he couldn’t last a day without any form of interaction with you. He used to forget everything around him when there was Sera, but now his eyes were constantly searching for you.

He thought that all the sharp words that he once sputtered towards you were left forgotten at the back of your mind, which was why he was in complete discombobulation when you were reciting every single hurtful word that he ever said to you. How did you even remember his words back in Iceland? It seemed as if everything, since the very beginning of your marriage, had remarkably etched into your soul and inflicted you with great sorrow.

For hours, he couldn’t do anything but to check his phone to get his mind out of his ennui and Sera was growing deeply annoyed that he wasn’t very keen of doing their supposed snorkeling activity because he refused to leave the villa.

It was funny how he should be thankful that you had given him some time alone with Sera, but here he was displeased about it. What was going through his head? He needed some clarity.

When the sun was at least two hours shy from setting, Gojou headed to your room to find his charger as he scrolled through his phone. The first thing he did was to check the recent photos he had taken, sliding his thumb down to review all the other images that he was keeping in his album and realized that one particular photo was absent.

His bum fell at the edge of the mattress as he frantically searched all the other photo albums to find the only photo he had of you.

Sera’s appearance by the door could not even distract him from removing the crease between his eyebrows. “Satoru, are we not gonna—”

“Did you delete her photo?” he snapped, looking up to see her wide confused eyes. “First you installed that period tracker, now you deleted her photo.”

She was livid. His accusatory eyes brought a surge of ill feelings when she stepped in and denied his claims. “Why the hell would I delete her stupid photo?”

He huffed, feeling a fit of pique but choosing to let it go. “Forget it,” throwing his phone on the mattress, he collapsed against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. “What do you wanna do today?”

Wasn’t it too late to ask?

Somehow, while he was busy gazing up at the nipa palm leaves that decorated the roof of your bedroom, he heard a clutter of things falling onto the floor and he realized that it was your makeup bag that Sera had accidentally bumped into.

“What’s that?” he asked, propping himself with his elbows as she crouched down, blinking twice in the same second before erupting into a scoff.

“You say you had a hard time making a baby?” She stood straight with a mirthless smile, showing a blister of birth control pills in her hand that made Satoru sit up in confusion. “She’s taking pills.”

He snatched the blister pack that he almost crushed in his shaking hand as he clenched his jaws at the newfound information. There was nothing else to feel but fire. Fire of the worst kind, fire that would soon erupt into unforgiving flames that would burn you without an ounce of mercy.

“She really just wanted to ruin us, Satoru.”

You didn’t think that this day could be any better since it started awfully when your husband almost ruined it this morning. Fortunately, his two best friends were your saving grace that allowed you to enjoy the rest of the day even without his presence. You went on a decadent lunch at Bloody Mary’s, had a fun jet ski ride behind Ieiri, and also spent the afternoon heat sunbathing at the beach. The image did not leave your mind—the waves crashing onto the shore, snaking rivulets of water onto the pristine white sand, sun-bleached crystals burning the feet, the resplendent stretch of palm trees that gave the beach a tropical landscape.

Life was too beautiful to waste on a man who didn’t love you.

In the words of Ieiri, ‘either win him or lose him’. You were at a point where you could choose the latter because your kindness was nearing its limit. If he was choosing his mistress over you, notwithstanding the prior relations that they’ve had before your marriage, then it was futile to patiently wait for the day that they would end their affair.

Because God knows Satoru would never let her go.

At least you were opening your eyes to the truth. At least you were seeing some light to the darkness that enshrouded you. Taking a stroll on the walkway, it was cathartic to finally be alone in this late afternoon as you left Ieiri and Getou who both went scuba diving. You were fine walking alone by yourself, simply appreciating all of Bora Bora before you leave for Japan tomorrow.

In the middle of your peaceful walk, however, the six foot tall man with the mess of ivory hair and vivid cerulean eyes came stomping down your path with a scowl on his pretty face. He was shooting daggers with the way he glared at you and you could strangely sense an impending doom when he stopped in his tracks—no trace of benevolence in his stance.

You tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mash of a brain. “Satoru—”

“You’re so fucking desperate, are you?” His voice was rough and hostile, glaring at you as if he wanted to destroy you then and there. Before you could ask what he meant, he showed your birth control pills that he had already crumpled in his hand, rendering you speechless and static from where you stood. No, this can’t be… “What, you’re still gonna deny it?”

Guilt and tremor swallowed you. “I-I just couldn’t tell you at the right time.”

He was laughing, and it was a feral laugh that scared you even more. Minus the hands that were shaking in vexation, he was clearly seething inside. “You’re so fucking pathetic,” he spat out words laced with venom, “Did you plan to keep fooling me just so I’d have sex with you, huh? ‘Cause no one else would do it with you so you have to ruin me and Sera? You’re just so delusional, are you?”

Your hand almost flew to his face before you even realized what you did. The amalgam of pain, anger, and resentment was now being released from your bottle of emotions as you burst out crying. “H-How dare you! How fucking dare you say that to me!” You punched his chest with your fist as tears kept flooding your eyes, cascading down to your cheeks like waterfall. You could barely breathe from the tightness in your chest, you could barely see from the tears that blurred your vision. “Y-You don’t know what I have to endure just by staying with an asshole like you!”

“You deserve it,” he gritted, holding your wrist as you tried another failed attempt to swing your trembling fist on his chest. It was painful. Everything was painful. You knew he never regarded you as a real wife, but to tell you that you deserved every bit of agony was beyond heartless. Merciless. But even in your sobbing state, he didn’t hold back, “Why’d you hide that you don’t want a baby, then? You’re so scared that I’d stop fucking you?”

Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. “You decided upon yourself that you wanted a baby without asking me!” Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears. The searing ache that burned your skin was fatal to your heart, because at this point, your chest pains were only getting worse. “You want—you want a baby because it was your promise when you were six? Are you insane? You made vows with me on our wedding day and you already broke them! What m-makes you think I’d hold onto your meaningless childhood promises?”

While his nose flared with deep-seated rage, his eyes were now mirroring the pain in yours. You knew not to believe that he was hurt because Satoru Gojou was no more than a spineless soul. “Don’t say that I—”

“No, you don’t get to talk!” You pushed him despite the heavy flow of tears that gushed out of your eyes. Your chest heaved from the lack of oxygen as you weeped, but none of it stopped you from reaching your breaking point. Your husband could see it. He could see that you were about to explode in the most gut-wrenching sight possible. “Y-You… I hate you! You never t-try to see what it’s like for m-me! It’s always about you and Sera, always a-about your happiness and hers… What about me? When do I ever get to free myself from this pain? I’m so tired of having to keep it together for the sake of this marriage! Did you really wanna s-subject my child into the same pain that you were putting me through?” You took a momentary pause so you could allow yourself to breathe, flooded by the overwhelming amount of tears that you were releasing. “I don’t want my kid to grow up with a father that doesn’t value his own marriage! You’re so fucking selfish, you know? You’re so… It’s the first time I ever decided for myself, to not carry your child because I know that I won’t be able to stomach seeing my own flesh and blood growing up in the same household as you did!”

The minute of hesitation that went through Gojou’s mind was his slightest form of sympathy. He might have realized how you’ve been feeling all this time now that you were willingly spitting out words into his face, but for the most part, he didn’t say anything to defend himself. He only grabbed your arm, confusion contorting on his face because he wasn’t sure whether he should keep up with his anger or he should feel bad for hurting you.

Knowing Satoru, he would end up choosing the former. “I never wanted this marriage.”

“And nor did I!” Perhaps you have gone unhinged, but you were emitting tearful laughs while you sobbed. “You said I ruined it for you,” you began, “Don’t you think you ruined it for me, too? Don’t you think I wanted a happy marriage with a husband that loves me, cares for me, and treats me with respect? You disrespected me, took all of my firsts, and made fun of me! You made me feel like a mistress in my own home! I wanted a marriage that would make me happy!”

“Then why did you marry me in the first place!” he growled, loud and vehement. “It’s your fault for thinking that this goddamn marriage could ever work because it never will!”

You knew those facts. You knew that the marriage was never bound to work when his eyes were already all set on someone else. When his decision was already made up before you came into the picture. But what you didn’t and could never agree on was how he was putting the blame solely on your shoulders. “Stop making it seem like I placed you at gunpoint to marry me, Satoru!” you pushed him off and got out of his strong hold. “It’s a good thing that I’m not in love with you. It’s easier for me to leave because I don’t love you enough to stay! Maybe this is why your mom left you, and you know what? I’m glad that she did—”

“What did you say?” Gojou, disquieted by his rage, took a step closer with his clenched jaws and balled fists.

You didn’t mean that. You didn’t mean those stupid words that came out of your mouth because you saw the shock and outrage that flashed before your husband’s widened eyes. The way he held his breath was a sign of how his blood blazed with fire at your decision to bring up his mother because of all the things that you could spitefully say, hurting him with his past was the last thing you wanted.

“S-Satoru, I’m sorry—” Your eyes grew horrified, utterly stunned by the words that you said. You tried to reach for his arm but he was fast to swat it away, “I-I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

The next thing he did was what wrecked you the most because the man had no ounce of sympathy when he slid off his wedding ring and hurled it into the ocean.

“Satoru—!”

You couldn’t believe that he did that, but more importantly, you couldn’t accept how easy it was for him to throw your whole marriage away because you were never once accepted in his heart. In his life. In his soul.

“You wanna leave, then fucking leave. I don’t give a fuck anymore.” It was the last thing that your husband could say before he left you sobbing on your knees with a sore heart and tightened chest. You had to endure watching his figure fading slowly into view as you weeped and struggled to breathe, wanting to stop the pain that only heightened now that you were alone.

Alone was all you would ever be.

But seeing the ring on your finger, remembering how much you valued your marriage all while knowing that it didn’t mean anything much to your spouse, you didn’t think twice about jumping into the shallow waters of the sea. Your whole body quivered with the intensity of your fear, but you continued swimming to the same direction of where he threw the ring because, for your sanity, you had to find it.

You had to do everything to search for it—even if your eyes could barely discern the view underwater, even if the squeezing pain in your heart left you no room to breathe—you were determined to look for his wedding ring in exchange for the torment that destroyed your soul.

Unfortunately, you weren’t as physically capable as the emotional martyr that you believed you were. Because in the midst of swimming deeply into the sea, you were losing air to breathe and you were going farther from the light above the surface. The water blocked out any other noise from up above and you were a minute close to fainting until your body was pulled back with desperate force.

No, it wasn’t your husband. It was Getou who dragged your body out of the water and carried you back into the surface while you gasped and cried your heart out. Ieiri was right there to embrace you in her arms as you buried your face into her chest, bawling and clutching your chest with your inability to breathe. “Th-The ring. P-Please,” your muffled sobs couldn’t be stopped, “It h-hurts.”

“Shh. It’s okay,” Ieiri’s voice broke for you, especially when your hand violently trembled because not even them could save you from the agony that drowned you inside. “Getou’s gonna find it, I promise.”

You couldn’t see the look on their faces because your eyes were falling heavily, but you could feel Suguru’s large hand soothing your back to ease your cries. “Y/N, I’ll search for it. It’s okay.”

I wanna die. You lost the will to carry on because you were at the apex of your pain—the summit of your agony that you could no longer proceed with life knowing that it was never bound to be better. I should just die.

Ironically, it was the last bit of memory that you could remember before the darkness temporarily shut you out from the universe’s never-ending cruelty.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

To say that he was frustrated was an understatement.

The level of anger that entered his entire body after he heard your hurtful words surpassed the twenty-five years worth of rancor that he had for his father.

Gojou wanted to hurt you, ruin you, do everything he can to spite you.

Who the fuck were you to say that he deserved to be abandoned by his mother?

It was his ill-feelings that led him back to Sera’s room, pushing her against the wall, and slamming his lips against hers for a harsh kiss. There was no passion, only roughness in his actions. Sera mistook his rage for eagerness because she allowed him to pull her hair and deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue inside her mouth that there was not enough breathing space for them both.

And at some point, he had her completely stripped off in bed. He had her in a position where her ass was up high and her face was down low. He wasn’t thinking right when he rammed his unprotected cock inside of her cunt, fucking her raw and earning her loudest mewls to cry out from his hard thrusts.

He held her hips close to his crotch as he jostled her body from the back, penetrating her core with low grunts leaving his lips while he spent the next few minutes remembering how you mentioned that you didn’t love him enough to stay and how you didn’t want him to be the father of your child.

Good for you, he laughed in his head because he was pissed. He was too clouded by wrath that he was treating Sera like a whore, rutting his hardened cock into her with forceful movements that made her knees shake.

“S-Satoru—!” Her whimpers were sensual albeit the lack of intimacy on his part. “J-Just like that!”

Fuck. Fuck, he wanted to break you. He thought of all the possible things he could do just to make you regret what you said. And if it was to have sex with Sera without any caution for a possible baby that could grow in her womb after this, he would do it.

Or at least, he was only consumed by spite when he did do it. He already released thick ropes of cum when he woke up to his senses and realized what he had done, immediately pulling himself out of Sera’s cunt to ejaculate the rest of his seed out of her.

What the hell was he thinking?!

Underneath him was a smiling and panting Sera who wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to kiss his lips softly. “I love you.”

He wasn’t in the right mind to respond, and it was a terrible time for Getou to slam his fist on the door, demanding his best friend to get out.

“Get the fuck outta there, Satoru!”

Sera was dumbfounded at the scene, especially when her boyfriend was scrambling to put his pants on before he rushed out of the room.

Suguru’s eyes were filled with disgust when Gojou walked out, only to be grabbed by his shirt as his best friend violently shook the tiniest trace of guilt that was left inside of him.

“How can you behave this way in front of your wife?!” Getou yelling at his face wasn’t new, what was new was the reason why he was screaming at him. “I only tolerated you because you asked for my help, not because I support all the shit that you’re doing! I didn’t wanna meddle into your business ‘cause it’s not my marriage, but I can’t stand this anymore.”

Satoru raked his fingers through his white hair in frustration. “I’m in a tough spot!”

Getou was certainly not buying his excuses anymore. “You’re becoming like the person you hate the most,” he claimed, and Gojou was shaking his head in absolute denial. “Just leave her if you can’t love her. She deserves better.”

His wife. What did Satoru just do to his wife back there?

“Wh-Where’s she—where’s Y/N?” He was becoming frantic as he remembered how much you cried after he left. Only now did his conscience tug at him regretfully.

“She passed out from crying.” Suguru let out a sigh of exasperation. “Ieiri doesn’t want you anywhere near Y/N.”

“But—”

“Don’t push it,” his best friend couldn’t even look him in the eye. “You already lost her.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[angry-slytherin]

We Really Like Fluff

a totally incomplete guide to dousy fan fictions that are a must:

according to me, anyway

no idea where to start? looking for a fic you read a year ago? I’ve got you.

help me find the tumblrs of those not tagged (if they have one)!

all we do is drive. (romantashas) @romantashas

Daisy has missed the open road. She used to always love taking her van out and just driving. Los Angeles was where she liked to stick around, but she would always go on these road trips just because she wanted to explore somewhere new.

She's always liked running away from things.

It was different, having someone with her.

In which Daisy Johnson helps Daniel Sousa explore the modern world by taking him on a cross-country road trip in a van. Post-Finale road trip AU with MCU tie-ins.

the first beloved fic by this fandom. completed in august 2020, it strays from canon somewhat at S7E11, but the characterization makes you forget that anything is different at all. truly a masterpiece, and definitely a must-read.

6/17/55 (lazyfish)

6/17/55.

She never thought it would mean 1955.

(Spoilers up to 7.06.)

one shot. soulmate au. beautifully written. it’s only just under 2k words but one of the most popular fan fictions under the tag on ao3. absolutely adorable and you’ll feel your heart flutter for them.

One Year Later (marvelsquake) @marvelsquake

Set right after the series finale's 'one year later' part where Daisy stares into space with Sousa and Kora.

Inspired by the 'anatomy analysis' bit Jemma says to Daisy.

there are so many amazing “anatomy analysis” fics out there. that is one of those “if you know, you know” things;) this one is really thoroughly written, and marvelsquake took their time to make every detail perfect. really, just excellent.

Stay (SteeleHoltingOn) @steeleholtingon

Not everyone knew she could feel heartbeats. Sousa’s sped up every time he looked her way.

His reaction wasn’t particularly unusual, and Daisy was an expert at fending off unwanted advances. But that was just it: Sousa hadn’t actually made any advances, and if he did, Daisy wasn’t sure she’d ward them off.

Her heartbeat, it seemed, liked to match tempo with his.

this one needs little introduction. it has been recced(??) to death, and rightfully so!!! the author is this incredible genius and I love them for giving this to us. it’s over 150k words, so be ready to commit some much deserved time to this excellent character study on both Daisy and Daniel.

Feel Good(I Like It) (enigmaforum)

It's not the the first time she’s felt something for someone since Lincoln but it’s the first time she felt like it had the possibility to actually turn into something. Something Good.

I’ve always loved the title of this fic, but that’s besides the point. enigmaforum is a very talented writer who does plot AND characterization like a pro. definitely an A+ in terms of quality. also part of a series with some other excellent works!

Exposure (agentquakingskye) @blcssqvake on instagram

Dying in a half-second blast of radiation wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.

Dying all over again, slowly, because of that half-second of radiation?

That was worse.

okay I lied. we also love angst and this work is angst central. it’s a cancer AU following the finale, but it’s just as happy as it as sad. prepare your tissues, but also prepare for some seriously good writing.

A Week After Death (manoutoftimeandquake) @puddle-of-awesomeness

An explosion in an alien junkyard sends Daisy, Sousa and Kora back in time to meet some people from Sousa's past.

the astro ambassadors sent back in time to meet the AC cast(essentially). such a fun, action-packed, hilarious work. such a classic. go read it now!!

Where I Need To Be (JennaPotter)

This is set from Episode 7x03 onwards and follows the story of Daisy Johnson and Daniel Sousa, and how their relationship has been developing throughout this amazing season of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.! This story mostly follows canon but is interspersed with missing moments between Daisy and Sousa that I imagine could have happened off-screen.

almost 200k words of absolute beauty. it’s incredibly detailed and excellently written. it’s like reading a published novel!! but with dousy!!

you’ve got that power(over me) (romantashas) @romantashas

"It's you," Daniel whispers. He's in awe, looking at Quake. She steps back away from him. "Let me help you," he says, reaching out toward her injured arm slowly.

Daniel only gets a moment more to admire her glowing eyes and her purple hair before she turns and runs away, her hand slipping out of his.

In which the superheroes of the Marvelverse actually try to keep their identities a secret and Daniel Sousa is determined to figure out who is behind the mysterious Quake mask. Superhero AU with MCU tie-ins.

yet another classic(I’m definitely misusing that word… it’s deserved by these authors) work by romantashas. the description gives the gist of it, but it’s one of the best dousy AUs out there.

get ready for the shameless self promo…

Your Heartbeat On The Highline(Once In Twenty Lifetimes) (doctorsimmonswilson) @angry-slytherin

He’s a man out of time and she’s an orphaned superhero. They’ve just got to figure out what to do next, after the mission is over.

[aka Daisy and Daniel’s story post finale]

welp… I included my own story. honestly it’s because it is one of the most popular in the tag(I’m sifting through too kudos and top hits). I’m really super proud of it, so read it if you’d like. it’s canon compliant (and extremely fluffy for the most part:)

somebody hurt you(but you’re here by my side) (agentmmayy) @agentmmayy

Daniel doesn't leave Daisy's side, even when she's out of the healing chamber.

very popular, and for good reason. such a sweet, nice fic. I very much enjoyed it and it’s a quicker read than most on this list!

and here’s to the question marks

aka: unfinished works that are beautiful and deserve your attention

want you(to unravel me) (IzzieBee)

Daisy never wanted to be rescued, by anyone. She never wanted to owe someone that debt, but especially not to a handsome WWII Vet, traveling through time. Daniel, who was brave and decent, and kind of funny, and who she could easily depend on, which was way too dangerous to consider.

OR

Daisy really wasn't ready for Daniel Sousa.

sexy, fun, well-written… what more could we ask for? it’s missing the last chapter, but the brunt of the story is there, and it’s satisfying either way.

A Truth Stranger Than Fiction (wordsmithraven)

Daniel Sousa was having the worst day of his life...and he’d lived through a war. Service had always been something he’d understood. Honor. Sacrifice. Duty. He’d just never thought his journey would mean leaving everything he loved behind.

a lot of daisy and daniel getting to know one another… a little bit of season 7 adventure… a whole bunch of fun.

Loving The Journey Together (manoutoftimeandquake) @puddle-of-awesomeness

Moments in the lives of Daisy and Sousa (and Kora) after the end of the team's final mission.

this one is a WIP(being updated currently). manoutoftimeandquake has some amazing snippets/slices of life waiting for you in that work!

it’s in the subtext (eggsaladstain)

Snippets of the relationship between Daisy Johnson and Daniel Sousa through the words they said and the ones they didn’t.

SO. FREAKING. GOOD. just go read it, okay?

and finally, some links to some authors who’ve written a bunch of amazing stuff.

romantashas

manoutoftimeandquake

enigmaforum

@hecckyeah

lazyfish

hereforthephilindafics

dearemma

seriously, there’s so many more amazing fics in this tag. I didn’t have the energy to include all 800+. these are just some that are most popular and/or deserve your attention.

thank you for taking the time to read through all of this! I hope you’ve found some things to bookmark(or binge-read;)

[pan-fried-autism]

clutch honestly

(tag from @/iolitemoth)

So the story of Katrianne Allard!

Mrs. Allard was born in Nice, France in 1907, the Kingslayers equivalent to 1940 because Kingslayers is in a different time. She was directly descended from two powerful French magic families, the Allards and the Fontaines. She had two younger sisters named Ines and Blaise (who have their own stories to be told another time.)

Katri (as she was called) grew up to be a very pretty young woman, who was also a powerful ice mage (thats the Fontaine blood, baby!) She often used this magic to put on little magic shows for young folk. She also met and married a young man named Antoine Le Clerk.

Some time passed, and word of Ms. Allards snowy spectacles spread. Eventually she was performing on stages at local theaters. When she was about 29, she caught the attention of a Magic Sponsor. Back then, they had a lot of magic shows where mages would show off their powers, and a Magic Sponsor was basically just their agent. W/e, she was offered a chance to join one such magic show company, where she could perform all over France, to which she accepted.

After this, her fame only grew and grew by the years, until her name could be heard all around the country, telling stories . At some point, she started catching a bit of international attention. The magic shows were really taking off in the US, and another Magic Sponsor wanted a piece of the pie. She was like "c'mon madame Kat, you're gonna make SO much money" or whatever.

And so, in 1943, Katrianne emigrated to Main, with her husband and two daughters Lisey and Nic, ready to start up in America.

It didn't take long for Ms. Allard to become famous again, and the Americans lost their freakin marbles over her. (i should also mention at this point that katrianne could speak english, she started learning when she was about 30ish) Her stunts WOWed the people. And why wouldn't they?-- Who wouldn't want to see a woman create 20ft ice pillars before effortlessly leaping on them, and then make a slide to slide down while standing up? In HEELS somehow?? Occassionally, she would even duel with other mages.

This, combined with the fact she was a very nice woman and also uh HOT (cough), kept her on the radar for 12 whole years. She also donated most of her earnings to charities surrounding domestic violence and animal shelters. She did many interviews as well, usually for stuff like 'The New Ampster Times' and 'Magical Monthly' (a magazine about the happenings in the magic world). She still did magic shows in France, along with other countries.

Tragedy struck, however, on June 2nd, 1955. A 48 year old Katrianne was having a duel with a fellow celebrity mage, Jessica Whitefield (b. 1923), which Katrianne's daughter Nic had decided to attend. They were having a blast, cuz the duels weren't usually done out of hatred but more to put on a spectacle. Katri was stood atop an ice pillar, and Jessica fired off a snowball full of jagged ice at her. Now, Katri was meant to dodge this, and jump onto another ice pillar she had created. However, she slipped a bit when she leapt, causing her to lose focus.

And so, in front of Jessica, Nic, and 10 000 audience members, Katri fell 25 feet to her death.

It was a death felt everywhere. Many fans and fellow celebrities mourned her death, and her grave was absolutely covered in flowers. Her death hit her family the hardest (of course), especially poor Nic. Jessica Whitefield ended up quitting the magic show business just over a year later.

In the present, Katrianne still has a good bit of influence. There's an animal sanctuary in Augustville (capital of maine in kingslayers) named after her, and a statue of her in Nice. She is still talked about quite a bit in reference to the history of magic shows, and gets featured in documentaries on the matter. Also she sometimes gets called a sex symbol i guess

Either way, she ended up being Mason's grandmother, which is also pretty cool.

[jaskiersvalley]

Meet The Parents

Over on The Bog on Discord, there is a cursed Shrek channel. The idea for this fic was encouraged there and, well, 1.5k later, I have so many regrets, this is definitely what I'd call a shrekcident. All I can say is that writing Shrek and Fiona is really really difficult!

@dapandapod, @thecomfortofoldstorries and @fontegagrilledcheese I think you all asked to be tagged when this is up?

Meet The Parents

There had been several letters from back home, suggesting Jaskier return and brings his lovely travelling companion. It was, without a doubt, Jaskier’s mother writing the letters, she had always had a better grasp on courtly things than his father. Truth be told, it was no secret that the Count of Lettenhove absolutely hated ruling and would much rather spend his time out and about. There were several swamps in Lettenhove that he claimed needed his very dedicated attention. The fact Jaskier’s mother went along with him was no surprise. Despite her upbringing, she was quite fond of a swamp or two too.

“It’s another letter,” Jaskier sighed, flicking it into the fire in the inn. “I don’t understand why they are so insistent on me bringing you home. I mean, they’ve never been interested in previous love interests before. Probably because they’ve all held titles and had standards.” Geralt grunted, eyes fixed on the small alchemy set up he had going on the table. It didn’t deter Jaskier as he carried on. “Mother thinks you and father might get on well once you get past the initial shock of meeting.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being over the moon to meet a Witcher. Especially not one that their darling son is fucking.”

“Well, quite. Father had a couple of run ins with Witchers in his youth. Not all of them were pleasant. But I’m sure you can change his mind.” Jaskier hummed to himself as he thought. “Plus Mother was a cursed princess so you might find some common ground with her. And did I mention my uncle? I spent a lot of time with him growing up, he was really patient, letting me learn to walk by clinging to him. Anyway, he and his dragon-”

“Dragon?” Naturally Geralt perked up at that. “You should have started with that. We’re going to Lettenhove.”

Naturally Geralt had assumed the worst. As if anyone related to Jaskier would be able to keep a dragon against her will. His family was just too nice! But Geralt would learn that fact for himself in a few short weeks when they arrived at Jaskier’s ancestral castle. It was a castle, not a mansion, well kept, if a little more shabby than most. There were overgrown bushes around it and Geralt could have sworn the small of a sulphuric swamp drifted on the winds. They marched up the stairs, everything eerily quiet until the door burst open to reveal two menacing figures.

“Ogres!” Geralt shoved Jaskier behind himself, a snarl on his lips and ready to fight. “I believe this is the Count and Countess of Lettenhove’ residence. What are you doing here?”

“Witcher!” The male ogre spat. “Nothing good has ever come of your kind. You’re not making us move.”

From behind Geralt, Jaskier sprang forwards. “Mother! Father!” He embraced the ogres before being almost bowled over by a donkey. “Uncle!”

“You call this a greeting? This is how you say hello to your favourite uncle? What have I got to do before I get a hug from my favourite nephew?” The donkey looked to the side where the ogres were still staring and turned to see what the issue was. “That’s a Witcher. Oh, that’s your Witcher! That’s a nice Witcher.”

That seemed to pull Jaskier back into the moment and he stood up, clearing his throat. “Right, Mother, Father, Uncle, this is Geralt of Rivia. Geralt, my family.”

Vesemir would be so ashamed if he ever found out how Geralt reacted. All the years spent drilling manners into Geralt’s head were for naught.

“How?!”

“Well,” the donkey said into the stunned silence, “when one ogre loves another ogre and they’re into experimenting with potions-”

“Donkey!” Jaskier’s parents cried in unison before his mother continued. “Please excuse Donkey. I’m Fiona, this is Shrek. And to answer your question, ogres and humans had different anatomy. We got curious, had potions to change temporarily and, well, Jaskier happened during those three days.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to hiss, “Mother! Please don’t tell Geralt about your kinky sex lives.”

“Yes, Eskel told me about ogre anatomy and the differences in rather too much detail,” Geralt grumbled.

“Eskel fucked an ogre?”

“It was an orgy actually - though he insisted on calling it an ogre-y. Said he couldn’t get the mud from the swamp out of certain places for over a week.”

As far as first impressions went, Geralt didn’t think he could have done any worse. But he was being ushered in all the same, Donkey already chattering away about the inane things that had happened since Jaskier last visited. It left Geralt in the rather silent company of Shrek while Fiona led the way.

“Dinner’s at seven,” Shrek gritted out and Geralt hummed in acknowledgement which garnered a grunt in reply.

“Oh my word, you’re marrying your father,” Donkey cried at Jaskier, head snapping to look between Shrek’s retreating back and Geralt standing in the hallway as Fiona opened a door.

“Don’t mind him-” Whatever else she was saying went over Geralt’s head because he caught up with Donkey’s words. Just what was that about marrying?!

They stepped into the room and Jaskier let out a wail of anguish. “Mother! Two beds, really?”

“Just be glad Shrek let you even share a room. But I couldn’t talk him out of having Mirror on the wall.”

“Hello,” the enchanted mirror called. “Please don’t rearrange the room or do anything untoward, I really rather wouldn’t see those kinds of things.”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. This was fine, he could do this, there was a dragon somewhere around and he was duty bound to make sure she was free. He regretted such a decision by the evening. There was indeed a dragon who lived at the castle but she refused to take a human form, far too happy and, of all things, in love with Donkey, enough to have a clutch with him Dragon-Donkey babies were terrifying, Geralt had ascertained, menaces, taking their temperament from their father while their mother gifted them with wings and the ability to breathe fire. Suddenly, Geralt understood why there were never any contracts in the area. The locals befriended every creature, monster and anything in between. And any they couldn’t? Well, ogres and dragons could easily keep things in check.

Once the shock of it all had worn off, Geralt could actually focus on eating. Other than Jaskier, there seemed to be no one who cared for things like utensils.

“Please, Mother, Father, at least try to have some manners?” Jaskier looked pleadingly at his parents. His only response was Fiona letting out quite the impressive belch before high fiving Shrek.

The sound of small, pattering feet caught Geralt’s attention. He looked at Shrek and Fiona before trying to find the source of the sound. This seemed like the kind of company that would appreciate his party trick with a fork. A hand around his wrist stopped him.

“Not the Three Blind Mice. They’re friends.”

Almost disappointed, Geralt settled back to finish his surprisingly hearty meal. It wasn’t the usual fair of courts, this was more about being filling and warm rather than showing off all the money that went into making tiny portions full of expensive spices. However, it certainly helped set Geralt at ease.

“So, when’s the wedding?” The small amount of peace was shattered by Shrek asking around a mouthful. It had Jaskier shrieking while the rest of his family watched him, frozen in place but not exactly surprised. More like they were patiently waiting for him to be done. Shrek shrugged. “I thought you were bringing your Witcher home to get married. Isn’t that how it usually goes in fairytales?”

“That’s only princes and princesses,” Donkey cut in. “You have a viscount. They don’t have to get married. Unless…?”

“I’m not proposing,” Geralt blurted out. There was a collective groaning sigh from the table, some of it relief, some of it disappointment and Geralt didn’t know just how offended he should be. He didn’t expect Jaskier to loudly but delicately put his cutlery onto his plate to make in clink pointedly.

“Good. Because I wanted to be the one to propose. On my own terms. In my own time. Mother, do you still have the ring? I think I will take it with us. Might eventually use it.”

Donkey gasped. “Not the One Ring?”

“No!” Jaskier sounded exasperated. “We all know what happened to cousin Gollum with that one. I don’t have any wishes to lose my hair because of that. I meant Grandmother’s ring. I doubt Grandfather’s would be very useful.” He turned to Geralt. “Grandfather was turned into a frog. His ring is rather tiny as a result.”

Of course Jaskier had ogres for parents and a frog for a grandfather. He still took after his uncle the most by the sounds of things. Given how Donkey hadn’t stopped making noises, whether it was humming or popping his lips, it was incessant. Geralt felt he now understood Jaskier a whole lot better. And, when the time came, if Jaskier did offer him a ring, Geralt had zero reservations about the knowledge that he would say yes. But the wedding was going to be at Kaer Morhen, he was going to have to insist on that.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 289: Looks Like the Gang’s All Here

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “you guys don’t really need to know what’s gonna happen to Deku and Shouto right now” and cut away to Toga and Ochako before anyone could get a word in. Skeptic utilized the power of Freak Shounen Coincidence to magically zero in on Ochako and Tsuyu amongst the fleeing crowd. Toga was all “IS THAT OCHAKO” and immediately leaped down to fight them, ignoring Spinner’s heartfelt speeches about Villain Found Family because fight now, hug later!! Down in the streets of some unidentified crumbling city, Ochako was approached by a sweet old lady and was all “I better help this sweet old lady who is definitely not leading me into a trap”, which unfortunately turned out to be poor decision-making on her part. Anyway so now she and Toga are going to throw down. AND ALSO, P.S., BEST JEANIST IS STILL ALIVE, and that doesn’t really have anything to do with anything right now, but BY GOLLY I JUST HAD TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS.

Today on BnHA: Iida and Hadou are all “is it our turn yet”, and Horikoshi is all “yes”, and so the two of them finally burst onto the scene and are all “hello Shouto, Gigantomachia is on his way, btw do you need help” and so they all get ready to fight Tomura together. Meanwhile in Unnamed Ochako And Toga Fight Town, Toga is all “what’s up Ochako, oh is this the All Might doll Deku gave you, I guess you must like Deku as well, just like me, we truly are the same, btw I can use other people’s quirks now” before she vanishes in a flurry of knives and ambiguity, as mysteriously as she came. So that’s a thing that happened. The chapter ends with Gigantomachia and the League STOMPIN’ ONTO THE SCENE, JUST IN TIME FOR ENDEAVOR TO WAKE UP AND BE ALL “OHHHHH SHIT.” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT, “OH SHIT.” Finally the pieces are in place for Dabi to reveal his true identity to Hadou and Iida, JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED.

before I start, thank you so much to everyone who sent birthday messages on Wednesday!! I had a good day; my quarantine impulse purchase guitar that I ordered months ago but had been backordered finally arrived, and so now I can do something productive with my time as I continue to while away these months in isolation! not to say that capslocking over fictional characters and their shounen escapades doesn’t also count as being productive lmao. anyways, my fingers hurt so typing is kind of a bitch right now, but I’m having fun still. IF KAMINARI CAN DO IT THEN SO CAN I

anyway so let’s see what mishaps my various catastrophe-prone children are getting up to this week

okay there are several things happening in this panel which I want to comment on

IIDA!!!

HADOU!!!

���some time after” jesus fucking christ though, how long have Deku and the rest actually been fighting?? like it’s absolutely absurd to imagine that they’ve been managing to hold off Tomura for more than a few minutes, and yet everything we’ve seen these last couple of chapters suggests that this is indeed the case. which is just pure insanity tbh. excuse me sir, but I have an emotionally maturing son, a homewrecking grandpa, and a sleep-deprived one-legged platonic husband who are all in DIRE NEED of medical attention just FYI

lastly, I direct your attention to these two cool cats in the background who are both riding on hover surfboards. living it up like it’s Back to the Future. why are there two of them. do they both just happen to have the exact same quirk. what are the odds. ARE THEY TWINS. I want to know everything about them dammit

anyway so Hadou is asking Iida why he’s tagging along, because unlike the others, he can’t fly and is thus vulnerable to Tomura’s attacks and such

well Hadou I’ll have you know that it his DUTY AS THE CLASS PRESIDENT to tag along and THAT’S WHY

oh shit you guys IIDA SAID “FUCK THE LAW”

“plus Bakugou-kun, whom I am not particularly close to, but nonetheless hold nothing personal against!” well uh, kind of a weird distinction to make there bro, but okay. listen everyone, it’s a tense situation; if Iida feels the need to clarify the ins and outs of his interpersonal relationships with each of the people he’s rescuing then please just respect that okay

anyways though have I mentioned how much I fucking love Iida Tenya though you guys. feels like I haven’t mentioned that enough. I LOVE HIM. there

FINALLY

AFTER THREE WHOLE WEEKS WE FINALLY CUT BACK. OH MY GOD. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG OF A TIME THAT IS TO BE HOLDING YOUR BREATH. [EXHALES]

is it bad that my immediate reaction to this page was A LOT OF LAUGHING, though. fkldlksh this entire situation is SO ABJECTLY TERRIBLE that if I were Shouto I would almost be fighting the urge to look around for a hidden camera at this point. ASHTON KUTCHER WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE. OH THANK GOD, IT WAS ALL JUST A PRANK

anyway so uh. heh. how screwed are we at this point, exactly. oh and also, whose speech bubbles are these. who the fuck would look at this situation and these bleeding children and say “HA!” what kind of monster. just ignore that paragraph right before this one please

OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT

TOMURA I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M SAYING THIS, BUT PLEASE LISTEN TO AFO FOR ONCE AND JUST LEAVE

pretty please. we kind of have a situation here. not that I wouldn’t love to see what this icy flamey boi could do if push came to shove, but I also have had just about enough of watching children get maimed for today though

OH SHIT

THE TIMING OF THIS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE AT ALL BUT I DO NOT CARE!! THE CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED THANK GOD

“WHAT UP GUYS, WE BROUGHT YOU SOME TERRIBLE NEWS” FKLSHLKHLK

WELL GEE IIDA THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH!!

lmaoooo a wild Lida has been spotted what the fuck is this translation though

I don’t know which is better, the “Lida” (DO YOU EVEN READ THE SERIES BRO), or the “CHRIST” gkfhkg. CLASSIC LIDA

OH SNAP HADOU

sobbing at Manual cradling the still-warm corpse of Gran Torino like a tiny baby khlk;h. BUT ANYWAYS HADOU SAW HER TEACHER ALL BLOODIED UP AND IS READY TO THROW DOWN, YESSSSS, THE MY LADIES ACADEMIA ARC CONTINUES

(ETA: listen you guys, there were many things at the end of this chapter that brought me joy, but perhaps none more than the inclusion of Hadou in the final two page spread looking all serious alongside the Todorokis, as if she has any fucking clue at all wtf is going on slfkhlkhgghsl. what I wouldn’t give to see her and Deku and Iida all making frantic bewildered eye contact at each other throughout the next chapter lmao.)

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT DEKU

ARE YOU PROPPING YOURSELF UP WITH YOUR ARM THAT’S IN SPLINTERS, I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW. SOMEONE PLEASE SLAP SOME SENSE INTO THIS CHILD. SIT YOUR ASS DOWN

LMAO TODO’S READY TO TAKE AFOMURA ON. THE SHARED HERO BRAINCELL HAS ALREADY EXPIRED. FUCK IT LET’S DO THIS

“true, I already watched him murder my dad, my boyfriend, my other boyfriend, my teacher, and dozens of other people, but gosh darn it, I just feel like the fifteenth time’s the charm you guys.” shit, I ain’t even mad. who’s up for yet another episode of Todoroki Shouto Attempts to Murder a Bitch

-- “TIME TO CUT AWAY!!” laughs Horikoshi as he gleefully dodges out of reach before I can punch him, that SON OF A --

goddammit. you’re just lucky that I’m invested in the girl power fight too

YESSSSS OCHAKO

DON’T BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS! NEVER BE SORRY FOR KICKING ASS

damn, looks like she managed to touch Toga’s shirt but not Toga herself. both of them are so fast

now Toga is monologuing from the shadows

we’ve all been there, Toga. sometimes you see someone you really like and it’s just like, ahhhhhh gotta kill them am I right

lol I love Toga so much you guys, but I’m also kind of wincing in anticipation of whatever essays are gonna materialize out of the fandom this week explaining how hero society has failed her utterly and she is just a victim here. CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW SHE JUST WANTED FREEDOM TO BE HERSELF AND MURDER A BUNCH OF PEOPLE flhkklhl

OH SNAP SHE WENT AND TOLD HER THE THING!!

and it was fucking awesome and scary as shit, Ochako. like damn, still sends a chill up my spine just thinking about it

anyway so now Toga is continuing to explain that she can use the quirks of whoever she transforms into

and Ochako is kind of freaking out, which I don’t blame her for, since it’s probably really upsetting to hear that your stolen blood and quirk were used to murder a bunch of people. shit

so now she’s all “WTF WHY WOULD YOU EVEN TELL ME THAT”

??? was this somehow the wrong answer?

for fuck’s sake. Toga you literally came down here to ask her if she would be willing to kill you, and here she is telling you “I would never be happy about killing someone, that’s fucked up”, and you’re all “......”

like come on though, what else do you want her to say?? and why does Ochako look so shocked now

OOP

LMAO

THEIR FACES DKSLHFKG. TOGA NO THAT IS MEAN. and jesus christ Ochako it’s just a toy. I know it has Sentimental Value and shit but is this really the thing to be getting distracted about right now

FOR FUCK’S SAKE

JIN-KUN WHOM OCHAKO HAS NEVER FUCKING MET?? THAT JIN-KUN??!

OM NOM NOM

this entire confrontation makes absolutely zero sense to me you guys. just. Horikoshi was all, “this is the kind of stuff girls talk about when they’re battling to the death, right?” just, are you okay my dude

anyway so Toga has somehow deduced that Ochako got the doll from Deku, which means that she and Ochako are exactly alike in every way, and this is somehow an important plot point, and now they’re finally getting back to the fight lulz

OH SHIT

OCHAKO BOUT TO SLAP THE SHIT OUT TOGA WITH THIS BOOKCASE ON A STRING AND THIS LOUIS BAG OH FUCK

so now Toga’s all excited and she’s all “THERE’S SOMETHING I OUGHT TO TELL YOU, I’M NOT LEFT HANDED EITHER” oh snap

fuck, it almost feels like she’s trying to warn her. Ochako idk maybe you should run shit I do not like this ( ﾟдﾟ)

but of course she is not running, and she’s all “I’ll have you take responsibility for your actions”

HEY NOW

WHAT IS FUCKING HAPPENING, DID TOGA JUST FUCKING MURDER TSUYU, WHAT THE FUCK. I AM TERRIFIED, I DON’T WANT TO SCROLL DOWN, SHE THREW LIKE FOURTEEN KNIVES INTO THE DARKNESS, WHAT THE FUCK

OH

IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I MAY HAVE OVERREACTED

so did Toga just Swip a bunch of knives for no reason and then abscond, lol what. CAN ANYBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE PURPOSE OF THAT ENTIRE SCENE WAS. ASIDE FROM GETTING TO SEE OCHAKO TRY AND YEET A BOOKCASE AT SOMEONE

fuck, she was crying??

DID MY GIRL TOGA JUST KILL AN OLD WOMAN, NAKEDLY LURE OCHAKO INTO A BUILDING, ANTAGONIZE HER INTO SAYING “I’LL MAKE YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR KILLING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT LIKE IT”, STEAL HER DOLL, GIVE HER DOLL BACK, TELL HER “OH SO YOU LIKE DEKU TOO HUH? BTW I CAN USE OTHER PEOPLE’S QUIRKS”, AND THEN RUN AWAY CRYING??? BRUH

-- OH SHIT, OH FUCK

[SIRENS BLARING WILDLY] [AUDIENCE LEAPING OUT OF THEIR SEATS] [T-SHIRT CANNONS BOOMING IN THE AIR] [VIKING WAR HORN SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE] FUUUUUUUUUCK

well never the fuck mind about Ochako and Toga and WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT ALL WAS SUPPOSED TO BE, I guess, BECAUSE!! MACHIA MADNESS HAS ARRIVED. SPEARS SHALL BE SHAKEN!!! SHIELDS SHALL BE SPLINTERED!!

AND LOOK WHO WOKE UP FROM HIS NUMBER ONE HERO BEAUTY NAP RIGHT ON CUE, TOO!!! ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS... IIIIIIIIIIT’S TOUYA TIMEEEEEEEE

[starrynite7114]

Two Weeks (Miguel Galindo)

A/N: Tomorrow is my final and I think I’ve reached the point of a mental breakdown that you’re just numb to it. But no matter, positive thoughts all around and hoping my brain isn’t so mean anymore. But due to this, I needed a much needed distraction and finished part one of my Miguel mini series. He may be a little OOC, but I hope you all enjoy this lovely work of mine.

Everything is you, Snapshots, Misconstrued, and two requests will be posted within the next two weeks. 

Also may be adding Rio to my lovely writing list, we’ll see. 

This is my brain on procrastination, please forgive me. 

Love you all and I hope you lovelies are having an amazing week thus far!

Masterlist

Tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @ifoundmyhappythought​ : @carlaangel86​ : @marvelmaree​ : @woahitslucyylu​ : @encounterthepast​ : @enamoured-x​ : @whyisgmora​ : @briana-mishell24​ : @bribri-82​ : @briannab1234​ : @chibsytelford​ : @agirllovespasta​ : @twistnet​ : @everyhowlmarksthedead​ : @trulysuccubus​ : @jadert15​ : @sammskellington​ : @cind-in-real-life​ : @claytoncardenasbabymama​ : @sadeyesgf​ : @thickemadame​ : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass​ : @gemini0410​ : @elcococruz​ : @samcrobae​ : @sesamepancakes​ : @iambabyharry​ : @blackmissfrizzle​ : @soamayansfangirl​ : @1-800-imagines​ : @phoenixhalliwell​ : @lady-pswrld​ : @dazzledamazon​  : @getyourcrayoncas​ : @fvckthisbxtchup​ : @lukealvxz​ : @scuzmunkie​ : @nakusaych9​ : @danie1432​ : @cocotheclown​ : @soaronmywings​ : @my-rosegold-soul​ : @buttercup812​ : @itskiranbitch​ : @angelreyesgirl​ : @sheeshgivemeabreak​ : @vicmackeybullshxt​ : @strawberrywritings​ : @cherry-icetea​  : @losolvidad0s​ : @brownsugarcoffy​ : @courtrae89​​ : @blessedboo​​ : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind​​ : @fariesandwanderlust​​ : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ : @xserenax-13​ : @whatupitshuff​ : @aquamento​ : @justvnash​ : @maddie-georges​ : @itskiranbitch​

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave a comment below or just message me!

CREDIT TO THE ORIGINAL GIF CREATOR!

You couldn’t do this, you were at wits end. You wanted nothing more than to throw your work phone away as it constantly rang, constantly interfered with your life, sanity, sleep, and did you already say sanity? Just in case, your sanity. 

“If I ignore it, it never happened.” You looked at the clock and it was three in the morning, you had to be up in three hours to get ready for work to see this despicable man once more. 

The ringing stopped, a sigh of relief overtaking your body. Your eyes closed and yet again, it fucking rang.

“FUCK YOU MIGUEL GALINDO.”

You took a deep breath, gathering what remained of your sanity.

“Hello Mr. Galindo, what can I do for you at three in the morning?”

His chuckle rang across the phone, aggravating you more. “Ooh, Mr. Galindo? I’m in trouble, rightfully so. I apologize for calling you so early in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a conundrum.”

“Miguel, I am not picking you up from Alejandra’s place.”

“I gave Nestor the night off.” He argued.

“I’m technically off too you asshole!” You were one of the few who didn’t fear Miguel. You knew of his capabilities, but you figured you were far too valuable.

“Yes, I am fully aware of that, your nights are sacred. But you know I rarely call you on nights.” He countered.

“Correct that statement.”

“Anymore.” He corrected himself. 

“Miguel, why do you continue to meet this girl if you’re not interested in her?” Ever since his divorce with Emily two years ago, Miguel has been single and kept it that way. Which in hindsight was for the best. With the cartel, real estate, which he still headed with Emily, and the rebels, he had plenty of things to occupy his time. But you knew why he liked the causality of his relationship with Alejandra. 

No strings attached.

No questions.

No commitments.

It fit his lifestyle.

“Because, I have needs and you know, she’s easy on the eyes.”

You begrudgingly got out of bed and made sure to sigh loudly. Miguel chuckled, and you just cussed his name in the three languages you knew. 

“Stop cussing me out in your head. Are you coming to get me?”

“I get the day off.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Better cuddle up then.”

“Fine, but we’re having breakfast then you can have your day off.”

“No work talk during breakfast or the ride home.”

Miguel groaned. “Deal.”

===========

You sat across from Miguel at this diner in San Diego, your usual spot whenever you picked him up from Alejandra’s. Miguel rarely indulged himself or let his real self out due to his obligations as a cartel head. He had a reputation to maintain, his playful and joking nature was hardly in display. But whenever he let himself be free, it was easy to see why Emily fell for him. 

You didn’t, but you could acknowledge why your asshole of a boss could be charming.

You dedicated ten years to Miguel. He taught you the ins and outs of business along with his illegal activities. If he was ever indicted, you knew you would be a target as well. Miguel always tried to keep you out of the cartel side of things, but that proved to be difficult. 

Straight out of college, twenty-two years young with your English major in hand, you applied for Miguel’s assistant position. What was supposed to be an in between job before doing a Master’s program turned into ten years of unfulfillment. You learned much from Miguel. He forced you to learn how to become a business woman, to think like him. You were the brain that wasn’t attached to him. 

But you had to walk away.

You were thirty-two years old, with nothing to your name. You wanted to be something. You couldn’t be his assistant forever. As much as he was a pain, you enjoyed working with Miguel, but you could still enjoy his friendship without working with him.

“Do you think I should involve myself in a relationship again? It doesn’t look good for my image if I remain unattached.” Miguel broke you out of your thoughts.

“True, but if you remain single, less people to worry about. Personal relationships in your line of work is hardly ideal.” This constitutes as business talk, but you’ll let it slide. 

“You’re right, and this is why you’re my right hand.” Miguel knew that technically belonged to Marcus or even Nestor, but he never made a decision without your input. He was just used to it. 

“I wanted to speak to you about something.”

“Go for it.” Miguel gave his full attention to her. “Are you finally going to confess your undying love for me?”

You know she liked playful Miguel, but when he was being this obnoxious, she liked hardened, cartel boss Miguel.

“Right, should I stab you now or later?” You rolled your eyes making Miguel laugh. “I’m going to look for a new secretary.”

“Sure, you need help?” Miguel hardly argued with you. He trusted your judgment after all.

“No, I’m resigning.”

===========

“She has to be in love with me.” Miguel paced back and forth in his office, a few hours after your breakfast.

Nestor watched his boss and closest friend, amused by his suggestion.

“Y/N?” It’s not that Nestor couldn’t see you falling for Miguel, but, that wasn’t it. “You’ve said it yourself that she’s far too bright to remain your assistant forever.”

“That was just insanity talk, of course I expect her to stay by my side.” Miguel stopped in front of Nestor. “She quit right after she picked me up from Alejandra’s. She hated picking me up from there and she never got along with Emily.”

“All circumstantial. You know she cherishes her sleep, most likely the reason she was annoyed. Second, Emily was always a bitch to her.” Emily never liked you since she thought you undermined her with Miguel, which was far from the truth. Nestor witnessed a majority of your fights and it was hardly pretty. “All circumstantial.”

“No, she’s jealous. I know it. No matter, I can get rid of Alejandra.”

Nestor shook his head. He knew this day would come, you spoke to him about it quite often recently. But he didn’t think it would be too soon. He also knew Miguel wouldn’t handle it well. It was hard for him to trust anyone and the fact the person he trusted most was going to leave? 

Miguel was at the first stage, denial. 

===========

You drove up the driveway of Miguel’s home the next morning, Nestor greeting you by your car.

“You had to drop that bombshell and take the day off?” Nestor shook his head. He loved Miguel, he did, but yesterday was full of theories and bullshit he didn’t want to partake in.

“Well if you’re didn’t take the night off then I could have told him later that morning.” You retorted, glaring at your friend.

“You’re punishing me for taking a personal day?”

“I’m not punishing you, I didn’t think he was going to go overboard with the theories.” Nestor texted you every fucking thing that Miguel had said. It went from you having a secret family, secret boyfriend to being in love with him, which was what he settled with.

“To be fair, I said it was all circumstantial.”

“And it is.” You handed your purse to Nestor. “I’m posting the job later and see if we get any candidates that are,”

You paused. “We’ll see if we can find people that are trustworthy.” It wasn’t about skills. It wasn’t about degrees. It was about being trustworthy.

“How can you even determine that?”

“I have good intuition.”

“Right, forgot, you're psychic.” He teased her. 

“Fuck you,” you playfully pushed him.

Nestor opened the door for you and you walked in finding Marcus and Miguel sitting around in the living room.

“There she is,” Miguel greeted you, giving you a hug and kissing your cheek. “How are you?”

“Good,” you gave him an odd look. “You ready, we have a packed day today.”

All three men were looking at you and you gave them a questioning look.

“Am I missing something?” 

“I got you something.” Miguel smiled, taking your hand in his. He led you through the house to the garage and before entering he requested for you to close your eyes. “If you got me a car, I swear to god.”

“Wait, why, did you not want a new car?” Miguel frowned. Materialistic items usually appeased women, it definitely kept Emily’s temper at bay when it was directed at him. But he should know how you were by now. Materialistic items rarely impressed you. He found it odd that the little things he did for you was what left the most impression. He got you a rose gold bracelet for your birthday and while you were thankful, he could tell it didn’t impress you much. He brought you lunch from your favorite restaurant, and it was like he gave you the world. 

Why the fuck did he get you a damn car? 

“I’m not Emily, Miguel, you can’t just wave a shiny thing in front of me and I’ll change my mind.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Did you get me a car?”

“No,” he closed the door. 

Nestor refrained from laughing while Marcus just chuckled.

“You already bought it, might as well let me see.” You nodded your head towards the door.

Miguel indulged you and opened the door. Your mouth dropped. “You got me a Range Rover?” It was your dream car, one that you were saving up for, and now you had it. But you weren’t staying. “As much as I want the car, it’s not going to work. I’ll be posting the job later on today.” You saw that Nestor closed the door as soon as you said that. 

“This is ridiculous, why do you want to quit? Am I not compensating you enough?” Miguel was frustrated. He didn’t want you to leave. How could you leave? He compensated you well. Always made sure you were well taken care of and to top it off, you were basically the closest confidant he had. He trusted you with his life, there was no way he could find anyone he trusted as much as you. 

“I told you, it’s for personal reasons.” You didn’t understand why you had to give him a reason. In any other job, personal reasons would suffice. 

But this was different.

You knew change was not something Miguel was a fan of, he was meticulous and hardly deviated from his normal. He had a schedule and strictly followed it. When the plans deviated, it greatly irritated him, but you always found a way to soften the blow so he wasn’t inconvenienced. 

“I think I warrant more than a generic answer.”

“Miguel, I’ve been your assistant for ten years now. It’s just time for me to move on professionally. I couldn’t possibly be your assistant forever.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He blurted it out so quickly that even he was surprised he did. Miguel hardly said anything without thinking of it, but you were an anomaly to him. He spoke before he thought of his words with you.

“No, absolutely not.” You laughed. “No offense, you’re a good looking guy, but I also know you, so no, I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Miguel was slightly appalled by your rejection of the idea of being in love with him. Was he not worthy? He was a catch if he said so himself. 

“What? What do you mean why not? I’m not interested, simple as that.” You could tell your rejection affected Miguel. Not everyone fell to his feet, especially not you. “Look, now that we got that theory out of the way, want to try another? Why is it so hard to believe I just want a better career?”

“I can provide that for you.” 

“Miguel, what can I possibly do in your organization that would be a promotion? I swear to god, if you say executive assistant.”

“Come on querida, give me more credit than that.” Miguel chuckled. “You can handle the developmental projects around Santo Padre. You could be my development manager.”

“No, absolutely not, I would have to work with Emily. She already thinks we're sleeping together, the last thing I want to do is deal with Emily.” 

“Y/N, come on, I’m sure I can find something in my organization that can fulfill this desire you have.” Miguel was not comfortable with the thought of losing you. He wasn’t willing to accept it.

“Miguel, we have to move on some time, you’ll be fine. I will find the most eligible candidate for this job. I promise.” You gave him a hug. 

You needed to do this. You couldn’t stay in this job forever, you had to move on.

“Hand them over.”

“What?”

You stuck your hand out. “You got me the car, it would be rude to not take it.”

===========

“She’s in love with me, it's the only logical reason.” Miguel was sitting down on the couch by the pool, nursing the whiskey in his hand.

“Did she not say she wasn’t?” Nestor wasn’t sure why they were talking about this again when Miguel already spoke to you. 

“She’s hiding it.”

“Look, I’m going to ask this at the risk of being killed by you, but out of pure curiosity, are you hoping she’s in love with you so you can confess some deep secret you’ve kept from her?” 

“No, absolutely not, I’m not interested in her, but if it keeps her by my side, I can be with her.”

Nestor gave Miguel an incredulous look, chuckling at his friend’s terrible idea. Though, he couldn’t help, but play Devil’s Advocate.

“You know what, you should pursue her.”

“Now you see what I’m seeing. She wouldn’t be able to say no to me. I know her like the back of my palm.” 

Nestor had to refrain from chuckling. This was going to be a fun two weeks. 

[impaladolan]

What if y/n tried to sneak out again and ends up opening a door and it’s literally a conference room and grays ins sitting head of the table and it’s filled w mafia men lmaooo and she’s just like oh sorry was looking for the bathroom which is an obvious lie cos girl has one in her room and she runs away and one of them catch her and take back to grays I mean does he punish her in front of the men girl that’s up to you but even if he doesn’t I feel like it’s like a lowkey funny concept like poor girl she just tryna escape hahaha

Anonymous said

i think it would be fun if y/n just constantly winds up him now in hopes he will get sick of her antics and just tell her everything hehe like maybe one day she steals his rolex, smashes all the plates lmaoo idk now that i type that out i feel like he won’t care and just spank her ass every time (which i highly doubt she’s gonna complain about lol)

Capture - Grayson Dolan [7/-]

summary: y/n has always been a curious women, but when she stumbles upon something she’s not supposed to.. things become too much to handle...

warnings: swearing & humiliation/degradation..

a/n: do y’all want to do tags @?? and also, thank you sweet anons for the prompts! love you all 💕

The events to which had pertained early this morning continuously played on a loop in your head. Rerun after rerun, and you never ran out of film. It really made you question your decision-making skills, or rather any of the skills and manners you have acquired in your short time of living. You couldn't help the "imbalance of homeostasis" moreover your impulsive, fluctuant feelings that would come over you like a rushing water at times. It really made everything a bit more difficult to understand. In shorter terms;

What the hell even happened?

You couldn't deny or even feel guilty for the wrongdoings of this morning, but nor could you exactly excuse them. Yes, it was a heat of the moment type of thing and you really should have expected him to come barging in like that, but it still had taken you off guard. Although, when you think back to what happened, you don't regret it.

You miss it.

You miss the way it felt, to be sat atop of him and needing for his scared touch. He was like a drug. An addictive, life sucking drug that wouldn't wash away from your mind. He was all you could think about.

He is all you can think about.

The wanting demand to know his name, the request to see his godawful handsome face, the aching of his touch. Everything about him was mysterious and daunting. He drew you in, like a magnet against steel. The burning desire you have for him doesn't make sense.

How could you be in love with someone you barely know? Someone who had taken you away from everything you've ever known. A man that knows the ins and outs of you, yet you couldn't even recognize his name?

It feels like a game. A stupid, twisted fucking game that you're bound to lose to.

Sighing to your intrusive thoughts, you blow a wavering piece of hair from your face. You were stuffed under the lengthy duvet and your eyes were directed at the spinning ceiling fan above. The industrial, artificial wind-making machine upwards reminded you of a similar one placed in your room at home. Of course, this one didn't have a squeak but it still made the pit of your stomach drop in an agony-filled remembrance of home. It feels like forever ago when you used to run every morning. The feel of the harsh wind against your cheeks and the subtle pumping of your heart was washed away with the same old gray walls that you were enclosed by every single waking moment.

The sudden thought of just that sparked energy within you.

You were pretty exhausted from prior events and you thought you’d be able to get a nap or two in. But your overthinking and legitimate thoughts clouded your head and you just couldn’t find a way to sleep properly. Although now, you were ready to explore.

Well, explore the kitchen.

The mere thought of a tall glass of iced water sounds satisfactory. Especially for your often dry throat. So, you hassled out of the flooding white covers and marched straight to the door, pulling down the only thing that covers you; a large white t-shirt— presumably his. The urge to soothe the parchedness that swirled within you only strengthened as you trekked past the door and into the ominous hallway. You werent for sure if he was home or not, but at this point it really didn't matter. You were thirsty and you were gonna do something about it, one way or another.

You retraced your steps from only a few days beforehand, when you had tried to escape, which had ended in complete failure. Thinking back to it, it surprises you that he actually knew you were in the walk-in pantry the entire time.

It seems like he knows just about everything.

Like you remembered, the hall opened up into a large, modern looking kitchen that could possibly sustain an expensive restaurant if it really had to. Before you could pause in absolute awe by just gaping at it, you get straight to work in finding a glass. You swung open most of the cabinet doors, opening to mainly spice racks and pots/pans that looked pricier than your own vehicle. You finally found something that could fit the desired contents and you went straight for the fridge. Just as quickly, you dip your cup in the little boxed formation and listen to the ice cubes soothingly fall. You didn't even worry about the deafening bangs of the cubes as they fell from the dispenser, or the crackling or the cool water slipping down and around their entirety.

God, it looks like heaven.

You bring the cylindrical shape up to your lips and let the freezing water slip down your tongue and throughout your body. It cured any and everything that seemed to be wrong, at least for the moment. You dont stop your drinking until the water is fully ingested and the ice begins to burn the tip of your nose. You place the glass carefully on the counter and deeply inhale, shutting your eyes for a brief moment to think.

You’re tired of staying in that room all damn day, and you need a change of scenery. You know there’s got to be way more in this house than just the couple rooms you’ve ventured in, and what’s the worst that could happen?

Aww, he spanks your ass again?

Like that would solve anything anyway. He should know by now that it affects you differently. He seems to know everything else about you. It’s actually really frustrating. For him to know all the details and you’re left in the weird gray area that’s clueless and dumb. It makes you so aggravated and angered, and you wanted to oh so bad, put your foot down in some way.

So, that’s what you’ll do.

A devilish grin comes across your face as you leave the kitchen, waltzing into the dining area with scouring eyes. What could you possibly do to make the “almighty capturer” upset? The first thing to come across your head was unorganization.

He seems like a perfectionist, someone who likes everything put in their exact places and to not be tampered with. You share that similar quality, but you aren’t an extremist like him.

You first lay your eyes on the dining room table, the centerpiece along with the runner looking a little too nice. With a sense of urgency, you decide sabotage. Firstly, you grab the extravagant-looking art sculpture and set it on the floor. After, you crumple the cloth underneath it. With an odd smirk, you pull out all the chairs in not so orderly fashion.

Wow, Y/N, you really did some damage..

Taking a couple steps back to look at the petty mess you've made, a chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sigh yet again. You shrug the simplicity away from your head and continue your walking. You come about a spiraling staircase and instantly begin to climb it, eager to see the upper floor’s decor. Your hand slides against the railing as you become steps closer to your desired destination, another chic and modern looking domain before your eyes. Unlike the downstairs, this room held a lot more art work and a certain professionality you couldn't begin to explain, but you continued to move forward. You approach another hallway, except this one withheld a deadend, large double doors that open outward. It somehow gained your attention and you couldn't help but want a quick look inside. Nothing was really stopping you and there are no signs of him around, so why not?

You didn’t really need an answer, you just went ahead and did what was on your mind. Exerting the small amount of force needed to push down the handles, you pull the doors open wide and focus your eyes on the room’s interior.

Men, sat all along a table that led all the way up to him.

Your eyes widen in immediate shock and your jaw drops open. All of their heads turn in the direction of a barely dressed girl standing in the doorway, disrupting the importance of a meeting with their leaders.

You.

Papers were strung all over the long piece of oak and there was bustling before you rudely interrupted their transactions and communicating, but you were too frozen to react or runaway.

“What the fuck are you doing up here, Y/N?” He said your name with such a deep and dark mannerism, it made your pussy throb unexpectedly. “I- Uhm, I.. Bathroom?” Words wouldn’t come out straight, no matter how hard you tried. You felt the stares of a million, but you could only focus your gaze on him.

And he looks furious.

What could you do to escape all of this? Well, running actually. You take off just as you see him get up from his seat. You speed back down the hallway you first walked down and curved through the different paths you had taken prior. The faint “go fucking get her” that spilled from his lips had made it to your ears and a certain fear ignited within you.

You could hear the footsteps behind you, but you didn’t stop. You were almost down the steps, until that menacing touch of someone grabbing you right before freedom— immersed around you. You knew it wasn’t his arms wrapped around you, but you didn’t dare look back to see whose it actually was. You wanted to cry, struggling to stay in his grasp as he lifted you back up and into the meeting room from whence you came.

“Let her down, Marc.” His wondrous voice filled your ears and you’ve never felt so secure yet troubled in your entire lifetime. The large arms unraveled from around you and you were softly placed on the ground. You didn’t dare to look up, but instead focus on the ground beneath you.

“Get your ass over here, slut.” His dark voice filled the quiet room, and your heart plummeted at the sound of such a slur. Sadly, you could only listen to him, so you walk carefully around the table, making your way to his perch. You weren’t even fully near him until his arm reached out and clutched your wrist, forcefully pulling you towards him. He roughly laid you over his lap, in front of everyone, and pulled up the bottom of your shirt, allowing every eye to see you lower half nakedness.

And just like the early morning prospects, an echoing slap to your ass filled the room’s silence. “This is what fucking happens, Y/N. When you disobey me.” You could tell his jaw was clenched and his face was red with anger by the way he was talking. Tears began to form in your eyes, but not from the pain, but from the embarrassment.

How’re you supposed to face all the people in this room, after getting an ass whooping for the second time today?

“Guess you don’t know how to fuckin’ listen well, do you Y/N?” He kept saying your name like it was some kind of extravaganza, which humiliated you all the more. You didn’t want everyone to know who you are, laid across a grown man’s lap and getting seriously aroused amidst people.

Out of the blue, he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you back up to face him, a dark red spread across your cheeks. “Lucky I don’t make you suck my fuckin’ cock in front of all of ‘em. Then they’d know you aren’t such a bad little girl, wouldn’t they?” He whispers against your ear as he sets you on his knee, facing the direction of the stone cold men veering their eyes on everything but you— away from the awful scene.

You shake your head to his words, feeling his large hands linger under your shirt. “Don’t think so? Would that embarrass you, sweetheart? Cause I couldn’t give a less fuck about that right now.” His hands continue to travel upwards, wrapping around the both of your unclothed breasts, the thin shirt material not doing much justice.

“Please, no. I-I’ll do whatever you want, just please— not here.” With those words of plea, you cross your arms over his hands and train your eyes to the floor in humiliation.

“Get back to you room, and don’t leave it. You’re on thin fucking ice, princess.”

to be continued...

a/n: don’t ask me why, i really don’t know why he has such an affinity for spanking her 🤷‍♀️ and it’s also 1:00 am that I finally finished this.. procrastination at its finest..

[procrastinatorimagines]

Our Little Secret Part 12

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries / The Originals

Series: Our Little Secret

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 //

Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 // Part 15 (Final)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,376

Summary: Y/N Gilbert tried to put Mystic Falls - it’s problems, and her whirlwind romance with Klaus Mikaelson - behind her after she graduated, but all it takes is one unusual phone call to bring her right back to where she started and into the path of her first love as she races to solve the mystery threatening the lives of everyone in her home town.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce // @april-14-blog // @akshi8278 // @keiko0 // @mylovehes // @your-new-mom // @mikaelson-emma​

“I haven’t been back here since graduation,” you voiced, needing to fill the void with something as you made your way through the school, conversation being the best way you could think of to keep everyone awake and alert.

“I remember,” Klaus replied, glancing back at you with careful eyes, checking to make sure you were okay. He seemed to hesitate before speaking again, seeming unsure whether he even should. “I tried to find you, after everything went down, I- you know what, it doesn’t matter now.” He shook his head.

You felt oddly heavy but you forced yourself to remain upright, trying not to think about the weight of the weapon in your hands as you mulled over what Klaus had said, and what he hadn’t. Why had he been trying find you? 

“Guess we’re not going to be sneaking up to the roof tonight,” you joked, earning a slight smile. It had always been your secret rendezvous with Klaus, a place where you could just be together, looking out at the stars and the town everythinng else always felt so far away. You’d been untouchable in those moments.

“Simpler times,” he said with a touch of nostalgia, mind no doubt going where yours had. You felt a bit of a pang then, your happier memories replaced by those that followed your sister and friends finding out about your little secret.

“There was nothing simple about it,” you reminded him, remembering your glorious dance at the ball, your nights in a cell, and your goodbyes.

He was solemn and silent for a moment. “I owe you for doing this,” he said honestly.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you reminded him. He hadn’t been the one to ask you to come back here, and even if he had, no one forced you. For all your talk about leaving Mystic Falls behind, you’d do anything to protect the people in this town.

“I do though - I’ve put you in an impossible position, yet again,” he sighed.

“Don’t, I knew what I was getting into then and I know what I’m getting into now,” you insisted, hand going out to his arm as you locked eyes. Unstoppable force meeting immovable object - you were both stubborn as hell, so he knew he wasn’t going to convince you otherwise. 

Instead he just nodded, resigning a little but still not entirely accepting your answer, ever needing to shoulder the burden.

“I left so I wouldn’t die here, seems the universe has a cruel sense of humour, because right now there’s no where else I’d rather be,” you said quieter, the thought playing in your head since you’d arrived. Everything you’d done to escape this place, make some kind of normal life, and here you were, sneaking through your old high school wielding a crossbow. 

“You won’t,” Klaus told you earnestly, pausing to check the coast was clear as you neared the hall.

“None of us will,” Ric said from behind you, matching Klaus’ tone as he willed himself to power through, the tiredness in his eyes impossible to hide as you got closer to the centre of... whatever this was. 

A noise in a nearby classroom had you all on edge, your reaction time definitely slower than it should have been as you prepared to face whatever was behind the door. 

Klaus and Ric shared a look, some kind of silent communication going on between then as the students cast nervous glances at one another. Ric took a step towards the door, counting down to Klaus, who pulled the door open on three, ready to attack.

“Dad!” A voice gasped, all of you equal parts shocked and relieved as you found yourselves face to face with Hope Mikaelson.

“Hope,” Klaus exhaled, pulling his daughter into a tight embrace as you lowered your weapons. 

Klaus’ eyes were gleaming as he took a step back, checking his daughter over to make sure she was alright before she went to greet the others, who were all equally happy to see her alive and well.

Well, maybe not equally.

You could see the protective way Klaus tensed when Hope hugged Landon, their touch lingering a little too long for his liking as he cleared his throat, Landon jumping back to a respectable distance as Hope rolled her eyes. 

She fixed her attention on you. “So, you must be Y/N,” she said. You had no idea what she knew about you, at all, but she didn’t say it with any malice, just... curiosity. 

“Yeah, I got your call,” you told her with a faint smile, taking her in for the first time. She was a Mikaelson alright, you could see that straight away.

“Sorry,” she told you, genuinely apologetic, “but so many people were already asleep and aunt Freya said New Orleans was affected too-” 

You cut her off, realising she should probably take a breath. “It’s fine Hope, I’m happy to help,” you promised, meaning every word as you look to Klaus for a moment. Even before you’d known the whole town was affected, she was still Klaus’ daughter and he was still... Klaus.

“You just left, you shouldn’t have just left, what were you thinking?” There was a chorus from Klaus and Ric, though you weren’t sure who said what as they reprimanded her for leaving the school grounds. You offered her a look of sympathy, but it wasn’t your place, they were also kind of right.

“I had to find out what we were up against, I had to find a way to stop it,” Hope insisted, carrying that weight of the world burden on her shoulders that reminded you of your twin.

“Did you?” M.G. asked, nervously glancing around. It was safe for now, but staying here for too long wasn’t wise; and you figured he’d seen enough movies to know that.

“Dozens of them came out of the Malivore pit, vampires but... energy draining, they can go out in the daylight too, I think it just drains them more,” Hope told you what she knew which, unfortunately, was pretty similar to what you’d already figured out.

“I can’t be the only one thinking this but they don’t seem... capable?” You tried to articulate, your brain way too cloudy to think straight, but they seemed to understand what you meant. Those vampires had been feral, to magically put a whole town to sleep... “How are they doing this?”

“There’s a powerful witch directing them, or controlling them, I’m not sure,” Hope explained, earning wide eyes from your group. Now this part, you absolutely had not known. Hope continued hurriedly: “She came out of the pit too, she- I think she created them, experimenting on normal vampires and turning them into these... things, and got put into Malivore for it.” 

You still weren’t entirely versed on the ins and outs of this Malivore thing they’d been dealing with, but none of that was good news. 

“Who? Why?” Josie asked what you were all wanting to know, “and to target New Orleans too...” Something popped into your head, a theory, maybe, a connection made somewhere in your mind, but it slipped away as a wave of dizziness washed over you. 

The others didn’t notice, thankfully, but it was only a matter of time before you lost the battle to remain conscious.

“I don’t know, but whoever they are, they’re here at the school,” Hope confirmed, “I’ve been trying to get to the hall, I hid in here to try and come up with another game plan, but there’s just so many of them.” A cry echoed down the halls as if on cue, bouncing off the walls as an icy shiver went down your spine.

“You’re not alone now, we’re here,” Landon reassured her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. He kept hold, but Klaus allowed it, realising that there would be time later to thoroughly scare the young man and demand to know his intentions for his daughter. 

It was an amusing thought, and it was encouraging to know you still thought there’d be a later.

“We’ll do this together,” Klaus said, looking at Hope but addressing the group as you all readied yourself.

“What are we waiting for?”

[connordavidscamera]

Living, Learning, and Filming Ch. 9 | Connor Brashier

a/n: this hurt me so bad.

Summary: maybe he’s making a (b)rash decision.

Warnings: angst, just a little

Word Count: 1.6k

***

Week 8

“Hey, Bri. That offer to go out still stands?”

He sits from his position on bed and looks at me standing in his doorway. He doesn’t ask why; he knows something’s wrong and he has for a few days now, I know he’s not stupid. “Yeah, tonight?”

I nod, “I need to get out.”

“Give me twenty minutes. Do you want to invite anyone? Sam? Shawn?”

“No,” I say too aggressively. I shake my head, “No,” I say again. “Sorry. You get ready, I’ll be in my room.”

Brian nods, “Okay.”

I leave down the hall and disappear back into my room where I’ve been holed up basically since Shawn told me he and y/n were going on a date. Which means she and I haven’t filmed at all this week. Which is going to make it hard for us to turn in a weekly checkpoint, but I don’t care right now. I know I should, but I don’t because I know if I’m getting the failing grade then she is too. We’re both suffering and that brings me some comfort - even if I know it shouldn’t. 

I’m staring at her name in my phone, still the same, never changing: Wifey ;P

Maybe I should change it though. She’s not my girl; that fact is painfully clear now. But when I go to change it to y/n instead, it looks wrong. Anything besides what I already have her as is wrong and I know it. So I leave it and go back to my computer where I have some of the videos that didn’t make the cut for any of our other check-ins. The first one to pop up is of her sitting on her bed, reading dramatically to me with big hand gestures and a possible English accent? I’m not quite sure what she was going for. I can’t help but laugh a little as I watch her and relive the moment. 

She was all over the place that day and it was fun to watch, too fun. I got so much footage, but I promised I wouldn’t put it in the film. But watching them back, I can’t see why I shouldn’t. These are the moments that need to be in it because these are the moments that I could feel myself falling in love with her. That’s what the whole project is about, us falling in love, and these are the moments where I actually caught myself doing so.

I don’t realize what I’m doing or what time it is until Brian comes into the room, dressed and telling me the Uber is here. I blink because I don’t think I have in a few minutes and that’s when I see just how much I’ve cut together. I don’t bother watching it back, that’s for a later time. So I save what I’ve done and close my laptop. 

“Ready?” Brian asks, clapping my shoulders.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

---

“So what made you change your mind?” Brian asks, handing me a beer while we lean against the bar, scanning the crowded place.

“Just needed to get out.”

“You never just go out for the hell of it.”

“Sure I do.”

“No, not usually. You usually have a reason. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Is it y/n?”

“Brian.”

“Connor.”

I sigh and take a big swig of my beer. “She’s on a date with Shawn tonight.”

He coughs, setting his bottle down, “She’s what?”

“Shawn asked her out.”

“What? That’s against bro code. Why would he do that?”

“Fuck if I know. But he did and she said yes and they’re on a date right now.”

“Hence the going out.”

“Yep.”

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye and he takes the bottle from my hand. 

“Hey,” I object.

“You need something stronger than this.” he waves the bartender over. 

“What can I get you, handsome?” she asks him. 

“Scotch neat, two please.”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

“Scotch?” I ask him. 

“Trust me, you’ll need it.” He looks around again, “So, we’re getting you laid, eh?”

“What?” I stare at my red-haired friend next to me. 

“There’s a blonde over there. She has a friend too. What do you think?”

“Brian, I don’t think -”

“You’re right. You’re too sober. You need a couple more drinks in your system.”

“No, that’s not it.” 

“Here’s your scotch, sweetheart.”

Brian smiles widely at the bartender, whose name tag says Taylor. “Thank you, love.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re trying to take home the blonde or her friend,” I mutter, taking the drink from him.

He shrugs, “Well, you’re taking one of them home, so get your drink and let’s go.”

I don’t want to. I know I don’t want to and I know that doing this is wrong. And I know that it’s just one date. And I know that I’m in love with y/n. And -

“Hi, I’m Connor. Can I buy you a drink?”

She giggles. Y/n doesn’t giggle, not like that. I think I need another drink.

---

She’s kissing my neck, grinding against me, leaving lipstick stains on my jaw. I know I should be enjoying it, but I hate it. I hate every second of it. And I hate that I’m not pushing her away. Her nimble fingers unbutton my shirt a little more and I don’t stop her. I kiss her a little, trying to get myself to like this, to enjoy it. She moans, but it’s loud, not near as soft and intimate as y/n’s. She’s putting on a show, and she’s not y/n. She’s not y/n and I absolutely fucking hate it.

The knock on the front door saves me from letting this go any further and I’m grateful. “Give me a minute, yeah?”

She hums, kissing my mostly bare chest. “Hurry.”

I don’t bother trying to make myself presentable before I open the door, but I wish I had because this definitely is not what I should have looked like for her. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

She comes in, not paying much attention to my appearance and I’m glad but now she’s inside and she’s bound to notice at some point. “Okay, so I’m going to say something and this is really hard for me to do and I don’t even know if I should do this, but if I don’t do it now, then I probably won’t do it ever.”

“Honey, what are you talking about?”

“You’re still in love with me, right?” she asks, and that’s when she looks up. I notice the fire in her eyes and then I notice it slowly fades as she takes in my appearance. “Oh.”

“No, no. y/n. Look at me, look at my eyes. Talk to me.” I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look me in the eyes. She doesn’t say anything, only searches my features. “What’s wrong?” Her thumb comes up to my jaw and she wipes at the lipstick that I know is now staining her finger. I deflate. “It’s not what you think.”

She removes my hands from her face, taking the rest of me in. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“No! No, please don’t. Stay. We can talk about this.”

She shakes her head, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Connor, you coming back?”

My heart breaks when y/n’s shoulders sag. “You’re busy. I’ll just… see you later so we can work on the project.”

“No, y/n. Please, stay.” I put myself between her and the door.

“For what, Connor? Because no offense, but I don’t really want to get to know your date.”

“She’s not my date,” I say and realize that makes it even worse.

“Right. Well, for future reference, that shade of pink isn’t your color.”

“Baby,” I reach for her hands, but she shrugs me away.

“Don’t call me that. Just let me go.”

“I can’t. Not until you tell me why you’re here.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. That’s…” she looks over at the girl in my doorway and then back to me with a sad smile, “That’s painfully obvious.”

“Don’t leave, please. Just let me explain.” I beg when she opens the door.

“There’s nothing to explain. I was an idiot to come here in the first place.” 

“No, you weren’t,” I protest, following her down the hall to the elevator. 

“Connor, just go back to her, please. I’ll talk to you tomorrow or something.”

“No you won’t. You and I both know that. Why’d you come?”

“I went on a date with Shawn,” she says, finally turning back to me.

My stomach turns. “I know.”

“It didn’t go well.”

Immediately I feel myself growing angry. “What happened? Did he try something with you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He and I just didn’t work together romantically.”

I let out a deep breath. “Okay. That’s good. I mean, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you, but -”

“I came to tell you that I was in love with you, Connor.”

“You what?”

She scoffs, “Go back inside, Con. This was a mistake.”

“Y/n. No, stop. You’re in love with me?”

“Yes! I am utterly and completely in love with you. But-”

“No, no buts.”

“But you have a girl in your room. And she’s asking for your attention. You should go give that to her.”

“But I don’t want to! I’m with the girl I want to give my attention to.”

She shakes her head, “I can’t be here right now. Okay? I can’t be around you.”

“But-”

“I’ll see you in class.”

“Wait!” I beg just as the door to the elevator opens - yeah perfect timing. 

“I guess we both lost, huh?” She gives me a tight lipped smile and the door closes on us. 

I run my hands angrily through my hair and slide down the wall, resting my head on my knees. Our project was supposed to be about love. I don’t think either of us knew that we’d experience heartbreak too. 

***

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[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part two

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: thank you guys so much for the incredible response i got to part one!! it made me so happy so thank you. let me know wha yall think of this bit, we’ve got some plot going on which i always enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one

You don’t hear from Bucky for a while after the party. It’s disappointing - you’re self-aware enough to admit that. But you also aren’t stupid enough to expect anything else. Bucky asked you to that party as a favour, you got a one-night-only special being in his life and you’re not expecting anything else.

You had hoped it wouldn’t have impacted your nightly rendezvous, but those had stopped too. You suppose Bucky decided not to trust you after all.

Almost three weeks later and you’re at work, thoughts of Bucky barely a buzz in the back of your head compared to the job at hand. You’ve always been able to let your work consume you, and it pays off in your line of business. Being a private investigator requires attention to detail, lateral thinking, and a questionable moral compass. Your patented paranoia doesn’t hurt either. Your dad tells you every time you visit that he wishes you’d get into something more stable, something less dirty, but you’re not really good at anything else. Considering the majority of your clients are partners trying to figure out if their significant other is cheating, it also pays well for quite minimal effort.

Quick rule of thumb for aspiring PI’s: they’re almost always cheating.

Today is one of those clients. You’ve tailed the guy in question to a tattoo shop in Red Hook, which is already a red flag. He’s an investment banker and buys Louis Vuitton cufflinks for his ugly work suits. He stands out like a sore thumb in this grungy neighbourhood. You snap a few photos of him outside the store, very obviously checking left and right for a tail before entering the place. People suck at being subtle, you’ve come to realise over the years. And at being observant, because all you’ve bothered to do to hide is sit at the cafe across the road and pretend to be taking photos of the latte art on your coffee.

Entering the tattoo parlour is a no-go, even if your grunge aesthetic would fit in with the clientele more than your straight-laced prey. There are other ways, though. You leave some bills on the table and cross the street into the alley beside the tattoo shop, wrinkling your nose at the dumpster smell. There’s a fire escape which you can reach if you stand on the lid of the offensive dumpster in question, leading to a window you hope will get you some insight into what Mike Shorditch of suspected-cheating fame is up to. Maybe he has a tattooed, lip-ringed young girlfriend he meets here? Or a heavy-set biker boyfriend? Or he just wants a tattoo and his wife is as paranoid as you are.

Squeezed uncomfortably between the bars of the fire-escape, you manage to aim your camera lens at the window and zoom in - jackpot. It’s a small window near the ceiling of the high-roofed shop, letting in minimal light to ruin the dark aesthetic of the place, allowing you a somewhat clear view of the shop inside. It’s really nice, you notice, and they have good taste in music. Slowly Slowly bleeds minimally through the glass and you try focus your lens on the faces inside, catching Mike among them like a unicorn in a goth reunion. He’s talking to someone, waving his hands around dramatically while the guy he talks to towers over him, arms folded over a ginormous chest.

You know that face, you realise as you aim your lens a little higher. The shock burns, almost makes you drop your camera and fall off the fire escape you’re precariously lying on. It’s Steve, blonde head unmistakeable as he glares at your target and dismisses whatever Mike says to him with an eyeroll. Without questioning it, you snap a few photos of Steve’s imposing figure - so at odds with the friendly, downright cuddly man you met at the party a few weeks ago. Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of thoughts about that night, they show up at your work. How is this possible?

None of this sits right with you. This strange coincidence, the weird behaviour at the party towards Bucky and his friends, Bucky’s general evasiveness and the feeling you get of being watched just being around him. Nothing is adding up and you’ve never been the kind of person to leave well enough alone. You snap photos of the shop, as much as you can - Steve’s tattoo sleeve that had been hidden under a jumper at the party, the stencils lining the walls, the locks on the front door, the counter where a scrawny kid in glasses bends over what looks like genuine high-school homework and ignores the adults in the shop. There are too many variables - you have to start making sense of one of them.

The easiest thread to pull is Mike, and he’s the one you’re being paid to solve, so it makes sense to start there. Clearly it isn’t cheating his wife should be worried about, but the meeting he’s having with Steve and the others doesn’t look like a friendly catch up with friends either. His personal cybersecurity is poor enough you figure you’ll be able to solve that particular mystery easy enough.

Bucky and his friends, however? That’s going to take a bit more digging.

***

According to Mike Shoreditch’s bank records, he owes somebody a lot of money. You get this from an account his wife doesn’t even know he has, believing all their money goes into a shared account with a completely different bank. Mike has a lot of secrets but cheating isn’t one of them - the print outs of his secret bank account statements and the pictures of him at Steve’s tattoo parlour would be enough for you to close the case and get your money. But you don’t. Not just yet. You have your own itch to scratch, now.

You’ve taken to watching the tattoo shop’s comings and goings, snapping pictures here and there. Steve comes in at ten in the morning, ready to open the shop up by lunchtime for customers and doesn’t close it until midnight. His customers are the usual sort you’d imagine at a rough tattoo shop in Red Hook - heavy set guys with full sleeves and chest pieces, grungy couples who probably live upstate but are rebelling against their trust-fund parents, random walk-ins who’s nerves you can sense from across the street at what’s become your usual table. There are a few, though, who stand out. Leather jackets and motorbikes they park in the alley beside the shop, using the back entrance you snap a shot of one night once they all went home.

You’re not jumping to conclusions just yet, you’ve learnt the hard way from doing that, but you’re also not stupid. Whatever Steve is into, whatever Bucky is by association a part of, there are some shady looking people involved as well.

It’s one of those days where you’re watching the shop from the cafe, camera left on the table in favour of devouring an almond croissant and cataloguing the people you’ve now dubbed regulars at Steve’s as they enter the shop. You should probably be doing your actual job but you can’t bring yourself to, too caught up in the shady business across the street from you. Absorbed, in fact, so you practically jump out of your skin as your phone rings and you send it flying to the pavement with an errant elbow.

You pick up without checking the ID, and boy was that a mistake. Heart pounding painfully in your chest, you answer, “Hi, hello, hi, this is (Y/n) speaking,” all in a rush.

A familiar, honey-warm laugh rumbles down the phone to you and your previously racing heart all but stops beating. Bucky says, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Does he know? Had Steve caught you spying and called Bucky asking why the random girl he brought to a party that one time was stalking him? You glance around the street, half expecting Bucky to be standing behind you and catching you red-handed. He’s not, of course he’s not, you’re just losing your mind a little bit.

“No, no, sorry,” you say, running a shaky hand through your hair. “I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Bucky says, sounding amused, and you hate how the rough catch of his voice through the phone all but erases the suspicions you have for him, warning you to stay away. You had missed him, is all. He says, as if plucking the thought from your brain, “I was missing you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glad he can’t see the grin you send to the table. “That why you disappeared after the party?”

“Let me explain over drinks?” Bucky asks, dodging your jab with ease. No, no, no, don’t be stupid, he’s bad news and you’ve got the proof, don’t-

“You’re paying,” you say instead, silencing the smart side of your brain.

“Always do,” he says, which is blatantly not true but whatever, “Nine at Joey’s?”

“See you there,” you say, and hang up before you can do anything else stupid.

You bury your hands in your hair, leaning your elbows on the table and letting out a frustrated sound probably inappropriate for a public place. How are you going to go meet Bucky and pretend you aren’t, essentially, investigating his best friend? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you use this to get more answers, full-stop some of the question marks that have been playing havoc with your head all week.

And sex. You’re not going to pretend you won’t be ending up in Bucky’s bed again, shady secrets be damned.

***

Joey’s is a divey, underground bar you absolutely adore, and you’ve met Bucky here multiple times. He introduced you to the place, actually, a week or so into meeting up him. He’d laughed at how excited you were over the movie posters they used as decor behind the booths, the bartender who squeezed fresh apple juice into your shot of Jameson, the dirty bass-heavy music you eventually convinced him to dance with you to. Bucky is clearly trying to win you over by meeting you here, and you can’t say it’s not working. Just a little bit. You’ll still make him work for it.

Bucky’s got a booth at the back when you arrive, two whiskey apple’s already waiting on the table as he stands up to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, not letting you set the tone at all, but you can’t find it in you to mind as you’re crushed into his chest and he rests his stubbly chin atop your head. He smells nice, reminding you of spiced rum or something else warm and comforting, and his hands feel real nice as they dip under your top to press against your bare skin. Had you really missed him this much? You squeeze him tightly, ignoring the thump of your heart as he starts rubbing circles into your back, and you stand there in his arms for far too long to be appropriate.

Pulling away, though, feels like you’ve lost something.

Across the booth from you, now, Bucky slides a drink towards you with his usual cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at him, popping the straw in your mouth and looking out at the bar so you can pretend not to pay attention to him. He bumps your foot under the table but you ignore him, hiding your smirk in the rim of your glass.

“Doll,” he says, exasperated, and reaches across the booth to place his giant hand on the arm you have resting on the table. You look at him then, scrunching your nose up at the pet name which makes him smile. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, all soft and blurry blue, and you feel yourself forgetting why you’re supposed to be mad at him in the first place.

“What,” you say, mimicking his tone just to watch his jaw clench. His frustration is hot, what of it? You love winding him up like this.

“Brat,” he retorts, and oh, that makes you feel something you probably shouldn’t, all low and coiled hot in your belly. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

“You were avoiding me,” you correct, raising your eyebrows at him. He hasn’t let go of your arm, now taking to rubbing his thumb back and forth across the leather of your jacket. You refuse to let it melt you.

“I was away,” he says, eyes sparkling. He��s practically laughing at you, which is- rude. You huff, barely believing him, and he says, “I was! Did you want me to tell you I was going or something?”

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. You sigh - he’s right, what did you expect? Nothing, and yet you were put out anyway, but that’s a problem you’ve got to deal with on your own. Bucky doesn’t owe you anything and he knows it. You relax, finally, putting your drink down to cover Bucky’s hand with your own. You smile, say, “I’m just messing with you, Bucky.”

“Sure you are,” he says easily, but you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s dropped, then, forgotten as you sit there staring at each other in the dim light of the bar. You really had missed him, even if you still barely knew him. His stubbly jaw, the close-cropped sides of the new haircut he’d gotten since you’d last seen him, the glint of his dog togs against tanned skin disappearing under his t-shirt. The swirl of his chest piece peeking out from the neckline, and you can fill in the blanks because you’ve seen what’s under that t-shirt. You’ve traced your tongue over it, as well as every other inch of him you’re trying to memorise in case another month passed before you saw him again. If you ever saw him at all.

“What?” you ask when you realise he’s starting to smile at you, holding back a laugh. He shakes his head, looking down to pick up his drink and take a sip. You lean back, retracting yourself from his grip and folding your arms across your chest - he’s making fun of you, you know it, but you don’t know why. He does laugh then, also leaning back in his seat and regarding you with that head tilt that infuriates you.

“Nothing,” he laughs, eyes saying the opposite. “It’s just- it’s nice to see you.”

“You going soft on me, tough guy?” you tease, but he sobers at your words, the smile dying on his pillow-plump lips. He stares you down, that deep thing that reminds you how easy it is to get lost in him (if you aren’t already).

“Maybe I am,” he says, and that surprises you. You had been joking, but the heady way he’s looking at you turns it serious. “Would that bother you?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. You don’t even know if that’s a good response or not, but you’ve done it now and Bucky nods, downs his drink, all without ever breaking eye contact with you. You get the distinct feeling you’ve just agreed to something you don’t entirely understand, entangling yourself further into Bucky without even trying to. Given what you’d been uncovering about his friends the past week, you should know better. You should leave.

But you don’t. You lean across the booth, coming to him this time, and peel his hand off his glass to entwine your fingers with his. The cool metal of his signet rings offsets the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way he grips your fingers tightly signs the deal. Bucky is too enticing to stay away from, and you are too tired of trying to.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you ask, but it’s not really a question. You watch his eyes dart across your face, tongue flicking out over his lips, stalling for time. You wonder what he’ll say. My friends run dodgy business deals out of a tattoo parlour? I’m involved in that, too? I’m dangerous, I’m a liar, you should stay away?

“I’m a mechanic,” he says. You try not to show your disappointment, but still, this is information you didn’t have before and you’re greedy for anything. “I have my own shop in Queens. Natasha helps me out, helps me run it. I’ve been obsessed with cars and bikes and shit since I was five.”

You smile at that, imaging little Bucky running around a car yard trying to convince his dad, or whoever, to teach him how to drive even if he couldn’t reach the pedals yet. You imagine him now, the hand you’re holding all greased up and elbow deep in a car’s guts, maybe with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back. You’ve got to see that one day before you die, you decide right then. That’s too hot to just stay in your brain.

“Your turn,” he says, shit-eating smirk in place like he can read your mind. You blush, despite yourself, and scramble for something to say that’s not I’ve been investigating your friends all week and it’s not looking too good for them.

“My dad,” you blurt out, and Bucky give you a funny look like he thinks that’s your fact - you have a dad, isn’t that something. You curse yourself for starting this, you could’ve gone with anything and you said ‘my dad’? But you’re here now, so, “He raised me on his own, like, I don’t know my mum at all, but he always said he wanted me to have something of her so he taught me Russian. She taught him, apparently, and he taught her English. Now it’s like our secret language.”

“Russian, hey?” Bucky asks, and he seems far too surprised for the anecdote you’ve just given but you suppose it is the first actually personal thing you’ve told him. He doesn’t seem off-put by it, though, like you have expected him to be because you don’t do personal. In fact he just leans closer, almost unconsciously, baiting you to tell him more.

“Yeah,” you say, compelled to keep going. “We’d leave each other notes around the house in ‘code’, y’know, but it was just in Cyrillic. Thought it was so cool.”

“It is cool,” Bucky says, smirking at you again, “You’re cool.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, kicking his ankle under the table but immeasurably grateful for the tone change. You don’t know why you’ve just told him that. You don’t know if you’ve ever told anyone that - Russian isn’t exactly a handy language to know. You feel drunker than you should be after a tiny bit of whiskey, high on the rush of unleashing a secret. Drunk enough that Bucky unlatching his fingers from yours to grip your wrist tight, a bit bruising, tugging you close, makes you flush from your scalp to your toes.

Bucky looks at you, dark and heavy, and asks, “Want to?”

You nod, throat suddenly very dry, and Bucky tugs you out of the booth without another word. Usually you wait a bit longer before getting on Bucky’s bike, have a few more drinks, maybe dance a bit if you can coax Bucky into it. Not tonight. You’re both on the same page - it’s been too long and you need his mouth on you about five days ago.

He pushes you into the apartment by the shoulders, rough enough you stumble but you’re quickly righted as he strides through the door after you and grabs you by the hips. Bucky crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your needy whine with soft lips and velvet tongue as you fist his t-shirt and drag you both backwards, going and going until your back hits a wall. His palm slams into the drywall by your head but you don’t flinch, only groan as he smudges his spit-slick mouth across your jaw and down your neck. Bucky bites down, sharp teeth on soft skin, and you rake your nails down his stomach as payback for the mark you’ll have later.

“Off,” Bucky grumbles as he shoves at your jacket, getting it stuck at your elbows and trapping your arms by your sides. He seems to like like this, eyes flashing something dangerous in the dark of his hallway. You hold his eyes, heart thrumming something wild in your throat at being caught, pinned, vulnerable. With Bucky, though, you like that.

You want to reach for him but you can’t, so you wait for him to come to you. Kissing you breathless, hand fisted in your hair, other undoing the front of your jeans. God, you wanna touch him so bad but Bucky has you in his grip, yanking your head back to kiss that same bruised spot.  He sucks another under your chin as you cry out, pinpricks of pain-turned-pleasure bursting at the base of your scalp.

He gets his hand in your jeans, in your panties, runs two fingers down your cunt so easy with how wet you are already before rubbing bruising, slow circles on your clit. Your whole body jerks against Bucky’s hold on you, his thighs bracketing your body into the wall and his hand still fisted in your hair. Your mouth drops open in a soundless moan and you feel, rather than hear Bucky laugh against your throat. All executive function has diverted to the radiating ache of pure pleasure from Bucky’s fingers on you.

Bucky lets go of you hair only to press his hand on your throat, cold rings digging into your burnt-up skin and pressing you back into the wall. Long fingers tilt your jaw to look at him, increased pressure warning you against looking away, but you don’t want to anyway. Bucky’s eyes are dark like a sea storm, molten blue, and he squeezes his grip just once before saying, “Still think I’ve gone soft?”

Jesus christ, but you can’t answer him like this - not with your pulse thundering against his palm and the way he picks up the pace on your clit, making your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up. Bucky grins, boyish and crinkly, and it’s so at odds with the way he slides his two fingers down and pushes into you, twisting to the knuckle, that you think you might be losing your mind. Unravelling, Bucky pulling at the threads, and the only thing holding you together is his hand on your throat.

“Bucky,” you say, his name a broken breath as you start to lose focus. Everything’s hazy, glassy, your toes are going numb and tingly so you know it’s coming, building tight in your stomach as he rubs his fingers back and forth inside of you. At his name Bucky makes a sound almost like a growl, pressing his body against yours and somehow further into the wall. You need that contact,  the press of his muscles holding you up as it gets harder and harder to breath with the heat coiling up inside of you. He presses his forehead against yours so all you can see is blue edged out by black, claiming your every breath and moan, drawing you in deeper and deeper because you’re his, now. There’s no way back from this.

He presses his thumb to your clit, thrusts his fingers deeper into you, mouth parting with yours as you moan as if he means to swallow the sound. You’re there, you’re right there, and then he kisses you so soft you might’ve imagined it and you’re coming, your whole body clenching up and whiting out while he finger fucks you through it.

Trembling muscles come to leant against the wall, barely holding yourself up as Bucky extricates himself and allows you room to breath. He gently tugs your jacket all the way off, freeing your arms to come up sluggish and heavy around his neck, holding on. He laughs, just quietly, letting you nuzzle your way into the side of his neck and breath in that warm honey Bucky smell as you try and regain mental functions. It’s hard. You think Bucky’s just blended up your brain with a swizzle stuck and sucked it out through a straw.

“C’mon,” he says, gravel rough, and nudges his nose against the side of your head. “Not done with you yet.”

“Hmph,” you say, but let yourself be picked up under the ass and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck you can reach with every second your body comes back online, digging your teeth in a little when he squeezes your ass as he walks. You’re both still fully clothes, basically, but you don’t plan to be for long. You’ve got tattoos to kiss and a dick you want anyway Bucky’ll let you. You’ve got all night, after all.

***

It’s late, you should be going, but you steal a few more minutes lying on Bucky’s chest. He’s sat up against the headboard, trying to braid little pieces of your hair with the cutest look of concentration on his face. The way he goes from dirty to dork always makes your heart do complicated things in your chest. You’re drumming your fingers on his chest, right next to his dog tags, and before you can overthink it too much you pause your drum solo to pick them up.

Bucky doesn’t pause in his hair-braiding but you can feel him watching you as you turn the worn metal over in your fingers. They’re well loved, a bit bent in places and the letters starting to rub flat  but you can still read it. His birthday, March 10th, and his name. You’d never thought to read these before - they always seemed part of Bucky’s past, something you weren’t allowed into yet. But tonight has made you bold, and you run your thumb over the letters of his name so you can memorise the feel of them.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, words half said into his skin. Bucky hums but doesn’t respond, so you say, “I always knew no mother could look at their newborn child and call it Bucky.”

“Watch it,” Bucky warns, but without any real heat. You don’t ask what the tags mean, which war he fought in, when he got back. You lay them back on his skin carefully, straightening out the chain, before turning in Bucky’s arms to prop your chin on his chest piece and look at him.

“I should go,” you say, as you continue to lie there with legs tangled and Bucky’s hand now resting idle, cupping the back of your head. He bites his lip, strokes his big hand down the back of your hair and making you close your eyes for a second. You’re enjoying his touch too much, you’re getting too close for a man you don’t know. A man who you know has secrets you probably don’t want to uncover, but you can’t stop yourself.

“You could stay.” Bucky’s words hang there, suspended in the space between you. He’s never said that before. You never thought he would say that, ever. Bucky looks at you, face unreadable, and you don’t know why you feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden but you do. There are lines being crossed that you can’t backtrack from. You’re not ready to make that step yet.

“Not tonight,” you say, and it’s not a no but it’s not what Bucky wants to hear. He withdraws his hand from you, letting it drop uselessly to the bed beside him. You take that as your cue to go, rolling off the bed and dressing silently with Bucky’s eyes burning a hole in your skin.

You’re pulling away, trying desperately to regain some distance and control from his man who already has you swallowed whole, he just doesn’t know it yet. Even still, you can’t stop yourself crawling back on the bed and straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him. You want him to remember this - not you saying no, but the way your body will always say yes to him as he holds your hips and keeps you there, kissing you back as desperate as you feel.

But now you know you have reason to climb through the laundry room window that night and sneak away from Bucky’s apartment building, that you’re not just being paranoid because you’ve got photos to prove it. It’s that thought alone that makes it bearable to leave him, even if your heart is begging you to stay.

Part 3

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt77

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

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Damian spent the next day with Marinette at the hotel. Chloe and Luka both had school and Mari needed someone to keep her calm before the meeting with the Justice League. Not to mention Damian did not want to be stuck in the apartment with Drake. When Hawkmoth was unmasked it created a lot of ripples that everyone was still reeling from. Françoise Dupont was one more casualty. Between the ongoing investigation that was happening because of what happened to Marinette and the fact that Hawkmoth’s son went there the school was shut down until they found new staff at the very least. Since Damian hadn’t transferred yet he was off until it went through.

“So how’s your family taking the announcement?” He figured she’d ask eventually but it had taken her three hours so he’d give her points for restraint.

“The same way they take everything. It’s just one more thing for them to make fun of and overanalyze.” He saw her expression go hard and when she spoke there was a dangerous edge to her voice.

“They’re making fun of your sexuality?” He actually shivered at her tone. This was why Batman himself was terrified of this tiny girl.

“No. More making jokes about me having a significant other at all. Apparently they all decided that if I was ever to show interest in someone it would definitely not be reciprocated. At the moment they seem to be debating whether I’m making the whole thing up or holding my boyfriend’s family hostage to get dates.” It was their usual nonsense and he was used to it. Marinette however looked ready to transform and go back to Gotham to ‘talk’ to them.

“You should tell them that’s not okay. You shouldn’t be so worried about dealing with them that you’re afraid of living your life.” Damian just scowled at her in annoyance.

“I’m not afraid of those idiots.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I didn’t say you were. But how many times do you decide to not do something because you don’t want to deal with the fallout? How often do you debate whether it’s worth it to do something that actually makes you happy because you think they’ll give you shit for it? They need to know that’s not okay. You should be able to live your life without being concerned about what they’ll say or do.” That made sense, to a point anyway. When he really considered it he realized she was right. It never would have occurred to him to ask to go to an arts school because he didn’t want to listen to their comments. At the same time, it was how they acted with everyone in the family.

“They don’t just do it to me you know. They constantly harass each other just as much. I could just ignore it and not let it control my actions.” He hadn’t realized how much it did control his actions if he was being honest. That was one of the many things he’d learned about himself because of his friendship with Marinette. Not that he’d ever tell her that.

“That doesn’t make it alright. Just because they don’t discriminate in their stupidity doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be called out on it. Just like when I call you out for being an asshole.” He gave her a flat look but she just smiled at him. It was becoming harder to keep a straight face around her and he couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

“Any idea what you’re going to say to the Justice League?” All else fails, redirect the conversation. Marinette grimaced at the question before blowing out an annoyed breath.

“I assume that Superman is going to start before I can get a word in edgewise so having an actual speech planned out is pointless. There’s only a few things I want to make clear. First that the ban to travel to Paris will be lifted at the end of the week in case of ‘loose ends’. Mainly I just want them to stew about the fact that they can’t do whatever they please.” Damian let out a snort of laughter at that. Given the way they’d all tried to descend on Paris the moment Hawkmoth’s capture hit the news he understood why she was doing it. They didn’t wait to confirm she had in fact caught the real villain and could have just been putting Paris at risk. “Second, that they still have absolutely no authority over the Miraculous themselves. Having Wonder Woman’s backing should help with that but I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more of them try to tell me to give them the Miraculous. And third, if any of them think tracking us down to take them is a good idea they’ll get the full force of the wrath the Kwami are capable of. Given that Plagg destroyed the dinosaurs in an ‘oops’ moment they should probably be worried about what he can do when angered.”

“As much as I would like to believe words will work, you may have to do another demonstration.” Marinette just nodded at him. She knew as well as he did that this wasn’t going to be easy. It was highly probable that they’d spend the next six months or so showing various members of the League that they needed to back off. Yet another reason for him to stay in Paris. Damian still didn’t understand why Marinette didn’t just ask him for the civilian identities of the heroes so she could deal with them herself. “Did you figure out which wheelchair you want to get? My father said he’d pay the difference if you need something out of your price range.”

“That’s a kind offer but I’m not struggling for money. My business has actually gotten even better since the fashion show. I might actually have to hire some people to make the clothing so I can concentrate on design if I don’t want to start turning people away. I’m also getting a lot of interest from clothing manufacturers about designing discount clothing to market to a broad audience. Honestly just doing one of those would likely have me set for life. I’m just glad I’m at the point where this won’t completely destroy my parents financially. While it’s nice to know they love me enough to sell the bakery and move somewhere that’s accessible to me I would never want them to have to.”

“Well if you need tips or names of people to help with that, Drake would be a good source. I know that you have Jagged stone but global manufacturing is different from music in a lot of ways. Wayne Enterprises deals with a lot more of the problems you’re likely to see.” She nodded thoughtfully before offering him a bright smile.

“Thanks, I might just do that. It’ll be helpful to talk to someone who knows the ins and outs of things. I was actually going to ask you since I have a feeling you know a lot more about your father’s business than you let on.” Damian just blinked at her for a moment before giving out a sigh and pulled out his phone to send her a list he’d put together. It was names and numbers of people in the company who could help her along with various laws, specifically intellectual copyright laws, and some other things to do with business. She just gave him another bright smile before she started drawing in her sketchbook again. He really wished he could figure out how she did that.

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