#towards what? who knows. it's one step at a time for him. he's living paycheck to paycheck with his life. he'll figure out why it's

[genshin-projection]

wow wow wow ok ok ok ok

so im partway through the wardance event in HSR 2.5 and my mind is SPINNING

in particular finishing the most recent main quest with the Borisin, then hearing about Igor Haft of Belobog...

it's FASCINATING to me how the civilizations in HSR seem to not only follow a path that they value, but a path that they need and end up getting very little help from

belobog following the preservation because their small, impoverished planet is constantly under threat of death and destruction... such that very little is actually "preserved" with any success

the xianzhou alliance following the hunt to root out and eliminate their enemies without mercy... only for those same enemies to stir up trouble from within their own ranks, with the xianzhou luofu in particular failing to realize until two major disasters had already been set in motion. and even before then, considering everything implied with dan feng, i doubt this is the first time they've faced internal conflict like this

penacony following the harmony to ensure the happiness and unity of their people, only for what little harmony actually exists to simply cover up the turbulence and suffering belying every luxury... such that the order arose in the first place to deal with what the harmony couldn't, a thick undercurrent of inequality and divisiveness that plagued every worker, every poor soul that saw penacony as their safe haven, their last hope

that those desperate for preservation would come out with so little, with so many wounds. that those desperate to hunt down threats would be perpetually plagued by internal betrayals and setups. that those desperate for harmony, peace, and unity would allow its weak to suffer until the only option left is not prosperity but silence and preconceived "happiness"....

it's just fascinating to me how those following a path actually have the least of it. it's fascinating how the pathstriders of the preservation are on the brink of demise, the pathstriders of the hunt are under threat of ambush, the pathstriders of the harmony struggle to remain united and fair to their people.

[billiethepumpkin]

My Name: Dabi

Kinktober Day 2

Warning: Rated X. This content is intended for those aged 18 years or older. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Contains: Alcohol/drunkenness. Minor injury. Grinding. Teasing. Hickeys. Nipple play. Fingering. Edging, both intentional and accidental. Vaginal sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Slightly aggressive sex. Birthdays. Feelings of self-hatred.

Author's Note: I know that Dabi is an adult, but I'm still an old fuck :)

Also, this is a repost! I wrote this a while, and I loved it. So here it is again.

It had been several days since you had been to Dabi’s apartment. He had asked you to get several things for him, seeing as he can’t be seen in public. He couldn’t put his freedom on the line, just for groceries. And you were happy to oblige, seeing as you’d be going to his house anyway at some point or another. You had been there dozens of times before, maybe even hundreds. It was dark. There was barely any furniture; just whatever Dabi could find in the dump at night, along with one singular small television that you managed to buy him for your most recent Christmas together.

When you got to his apartment, he cracked the door open slowly, carefully, until he saw that it was you. He was so drunk you could smell the alcohol as soon as the door to his apartment swung open. He was shirtless, his hair quite a bit messier than usual. If you hadn't been in love with him, you might've said he looked pathetic. You wondered how much he had drank, but the empty bottle of some sort of alcohol sitting on the coffee table was a dead giveaway. It was a surprise to you. Dabi knew you were coming over. You had this planned for a little over a week. You’d planned to bring him groceries right after you got your weekly paycheck, and that was today. “-ey there, pretty girl,” he slurred, leaning in the doorway for a moment. Worried, you pushed past him with your paper bags of groceries, almost completely ignoring his words.

As you put away the groceries, you take a minute to ponder. Why would he be like this? What had gotten into him? You knew Dabi was a drinker. After what hell he’s been through, he needed a vice, a coping mechanism. And you couldn’t argue that being drunk did help the pain sometimes. But why today, when he knew you’d be here?

Before Dabi had downed his second double shot of whiskey, he had been sulking. Sulking over the anniversary of his birth–today. He was reminiscing on the previous birthdays he had celebrated when he lived with the rest of his family. He remembered the way Natsuo always tried to make a big deal of it. But it never mattered. It never mattered because his father never even so much as glanced in Dabi’s direction–not even on his own son’s birthday. He never told anyone that his birthday was today. And even after almost a year of knowing each other, you still didn’t know Dabi’s birthday.

You put the groceries away, taking your time to organize them as best you could, before you turned to your boyfriend. He was leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his head leaning completely against the wall. When you turned to him, he was actually pouting. Yes, Dabi, the man who had survived years of domestic abuse, an entire forest fire, and dozens of missions with the League of Villains, was pouting.

You huffed a small laugh before stepping towards him, his back now against the wall, looking down at you. “What’s wrong?” you cooed up at him with a soft smile.

“You hav’n’t giv’n me ‘ny att’ntion,” he slurred. “Doesn’ y’r boyfr’nd deserve s’me love on ‘is birthday?” He let it slip.

And he really didn’t even mean to. He didn’t realize he even said it out loud until your eyes widened with worry, and you asked, “It’s your birthday?!” Before Dabi could even answer, your shoulders sank with sadness. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “I had no idea. How can I make it up to you? You know what? How about I make you dinner, hm?”

Dabi slowly, tiredly shook his head. “Don’ w’rry about it,” he whined, his eyes drooping and his hands resting on your hips.

“Come on,” you said. “You have to eat something. It’ll help you sober up. How about I order something?” Before Dabi could even think of a response, you were already calling the takeout place you had shown him on your first date and ordering his favorite food for him. Fuck, why did you have to be so… sweet? And caring? Dabi was trying to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. He didn’t need you going and ruining it.

He didn’t know what to say. You looked so sad, feeling like you had failed as a girlfriend, forgetting his birthday and trying to make it up to him. He couldn’t tell you yet. Dabi needed you to feel better first. Damn, how did he end up comforting you? Oh well, he thought. He couldn't be angry at you for just caring so much. Even if it was ruining his plans of sulking.

Dinner came, and you ate together, watching a TV show on your Netflix account. When your food containers were discarded on the table in front of you, he started to get dizzy from the alcohol, and he laid his head on your shoulder.

“Why’d y’ do all that?” he slurred, his eyes threatening to fall closed.

Your eyebrows angled in worry and guilt. “Well… I just wanted…” you began, “to make your birthday special. I forgot all about it, and I didn’t even get you anything–”

“Stop,” he said, waving his hand. “I’s not y’r fault. I didn’ tell you.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “Why not?” You treaded carefully. You worried that too many questions might cross some boundaries, that he might have done it on purpose.

“I’s not a big deal, m’kay?” he mumbled.

You looked at the floor instead of at him. You waited for some kind of real answer, but after several minutes, it was clear you weren’t going to get one. You prodded further. “It’s just that–”

“I’s none ‘f y’r bus’ness,” he groaned, his brows pinching together. He lifted his head, the room spinning slightly. He stood up, refusing to talk about anything. But as soon as he was lifted to his feet, he lost his balance, falling face-first into the corner of the coffee table. You gasped, and you crouched next to your boyfriend, a small cut just above his eyebrow.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing the cut and brushing the dyed dark hair out of the way. He didn’t say anything back. You offered him your hand, and he reluctantly took it, slowly standing up and moving to the couch. You went to his bathroom and found the first-aid kit–the one you forced him to keep in his apartment for times when one of you was being an idiot. You brought back an alcohol wipe and a bandage. You sat straddling one of his legs with the flashlight of your phone illuminating the space. Once he was all patched up, his eyes remained closed as his head rested on the couch cushions behind him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked in a whisper.

Dabi shook his head. “Jus’ don’ like my birthday,” he answered, looking down, his gaze refusing to meet yours. And suddenly it all clicked. He didn’t have to say anything else. You were being an idiot. Months ago, he told you all about his father, and you were just now putting all the pieces together. Dabi’s birthday was a not-so-gentle reminder of who he was supposed to be and who he was not. And for that he refused to forgive himself.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your hands resting on the space between his neck and his shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, now gently lifting his chin so that his lips met yours. You kissed him over and over again, one turning into hundreds. The difference in feeling between his upper and lower lip was vast. The top was soft, smooth. The bottom would have felt chapped if you didn’t know any better. His rough hands, outlined with cold staples, slid under your dress and rested on your plush thighs. You inhaled sharply at the sensation of metal against your skin.

He pulled away, and you looked down at him with a longing in your eyes. “You okay?” he asked as your skin adjusted to him. You nodded, and you desperately pulled him back into your kiss. His hands ventured further up your legs, eventually coming to rest on your hips, where the lace waistband of your panties dipped into your flesh. Dabi’s fingers splayed against your skin, the different textures melting into your flesh and making you shiver. He fondled the waistband of your panties, making you involuntarily squirm against him. The friction of his clothed leg against you was enough to egg you on. You grinded your clothed sex against him one more time, and he grinned into your lips. His right hand trailed the outline of your panties against your thigh, and eventually rubbed his thumb against your clit on the outside of your underwear. You sighed into his lips, impatiently waiting for more, wondering what would be “too forward.”

You laced your fingers into his long black hair, gently caressing the back of his head. Dabi let his head fall back, leaving his neck open for you to take between your lips. You pulled away long enough for Dabi to pull his shirt over his head. Due to Dabi’s burns, his neck was much less sensitive than the rest of his body. He could barely even feel the contact your lips were making with his neck. You knew this. You moved to his chest, just below the staples, and Dabi sighed into your touch. He could barely even think straight. He had never remembered a time when someone treated him like you treated him, when someone was as thoughtful and as considerate as you. He could only sit back and watch as you gently sucked a piece of his flesh into your pretty mouth and swiped your tongue over it. He’d never been given a hickey before. Most people were too scared to touch his neck. But here you were, finding a way and making it enjoyable for him.

“Fuck~” he groaned as you let go of his flesh with a pop. “I love you so goddamn much.” He lifted your face and slotted your lips into his. His right hand remained on your still-clothed pussy, but his left hand moved to unhook your bra. He struggled for a moment, trying to concentrate on everything at once, but you helped out by pulling your dress over your head, unhooking it yourself, and tossing your bra to the floor. Dabi had seen you naked plenty of times before. Hell, you had fucked on the first date. But seeing you now through his drunken lens, an even mixture of love and lust behind your eyes, made his cock twitch. He wanted to show you exactly how much he loved you the best way he could.

He took your nipple, hardened against the cool air of his apartment, between his lips. You let your head fall back, hair ghosting against your back. You let out a whine as his tongue swiped over your breast, his thumb gently brushing against your sex through the lace of your panties. Soon, you felt his soft fingertips push your panties into a thin line to the left of your pussy. Now, his thumb brushed against your bare clit, pulling another whine from your lips, longer this time with enough desire to make a saint blush. Pleased, Dabi dipped two of his fingers between your folds and played in your arousal for a moment, thoroughly coating his fingers in your slick, relishing in your scent and desperate to pull more sighs and whines from your love-swollen lips.

Dabi’s lips pulled away from your tit to look up at you as two of his long fingers slipped past your entrance. Your mouth dropped into a pretty O shape, mimicking a moan as Dabi’s drunken gaze met your lustful one. You let the shaky moan escape your lungs as his palm rested against your clit and his fingers curled inside you. Dabi’s lips were just centimeters from your own. Dabi closed the gap, slotting his lips into yours and beginning to move his fingers inside you. Your lack of sounds, however, led Dabi to believe this wasn’t enough. He picked you up and switched spots with you, laying you down on the couch with your legs still spread. He quickly pushed his fingers back into you, curling them again to hear you moan, louder this time from the new position.

Dabi began to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, the palm of his large hand pushing against your clit with each thrust of his wrist. He absent-mindedly palmed the growing bulge in his jeans, too focused on your pretty noises to realize that he could fully stroke himself. “Dabi~” you whined, “you’re gonna make me cum!” Dabi groaned at the name. He didn’t know it bothered him until right now. He’d have to think about it later, the way that name made him feel, especially coming from the lips of his girl, someone he was supposed to love. He’d think about it later.

“Tha’s th’ point,” he growled, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. “Cum f’ me, sweet girl.”

It was the nickname. The nickname had you flying over the edge, the rope of pleasure snapping in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm gushed over Dabi’s fingers and dripped down your ass cheeks, your moans tumbling over your tongue like dice.

Without a moment to rest, Dabi unzipped his jeans, his dick aching to be set free from their denim and polyester prison, desperate to be buried inside you. He slapped the tip of his cock against you several times, sliding himself between your folds and coating himself in the liquid of your orgasm. When he rested his head against your entrance, your eyes widened. “Too much,” you whined. “D-dab-bi, I c-can’t–”

“Don’ call me that ‘nymore,” he commanded, looking you dead in the eyes. It wasn’t him being bratty or demanding or even the “dom.” The sentence came out of nowhere, without Dabi even thinking. The small amount of worry in your eyes made Dabi question his own words. He swallowed hard, the look in his eyes changing from fiery to soft in a matter of seconds, trying to silently assure you he wasn’t angry.

You were panting and shaking, not-so-patiently awaiting the stretch of his cock against your walls. “W-what do I call-all you the-en?” you stuttered, eyes flashing between his hips and his eyes.

“My name,” he answered, “is Touya.” With no time for you to respond, Dabi–rather, Touya–slammed his entire length inside your waiting cunt. You gasped as his hips collided with yours. Touya’s movements stopped to soothe you, as you whimpered and whined underneath him against the stretch of his member. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, your thighs stretching to allow Touya as close to you as possible. He rested his forehead against yours as he pulled out of you slowly. His right hand came to caress your cheek. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “Di’n’t mean t’ scare you.”

You nodded, not quite able to come up with the words to respond. Slowly, methodically, he thrusted into you, his tip kissing your cervix as you let out a soft whine. Dabi let his eyes close as he listened, continuing to move his hips as slowly as possible, worried he might scare you again. “T-Touya,” you stammered. His icy blue eyes opened to find you, staring up at him with as much love as you could muster. Before that moment, Touya hated the person he was supposed to be. With every small reminder, he hated himself a little more for not living up to be that person. But when those syllables came from your lips, he felt loved. He felt wanted. He felt needed. He felt like he was the person he was always meant to be. “N-need more,” you pleaded.

He thrusted in and out of you again, with a little more force and slightly more speed. You let out a loud sigh. Touya’s sobriety was ruined–he got drunk on your moans, your scent, the way your pretty pussy gripped his dick like a vice. “R’lax, pretty girl,” he groaned, nearly through his teeth. “If y’ clamp d’wn on me like that, ‘m gonna cum already.” He slowed, almost to a stop, his cock resting inside you at the hilt, reaching deep inside you. With his left hand, Touya caressed your waist, your hips, anything he could reach. He wanted to be impossibly closer to you. He thrusted into you once again, once he was sure he wasn’t going to bust on the spot.

You did your best to relax, taking long breaths that exhaled in the form of moans and cries. “Oh, you pretty little thing,” Touya groaned, becoming restless. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“‘M yours, Touya,” you moaned in response. “I’m all yours.” The sound of his name–his true name–escaping your lips left him gasping for air.

“Promise?” he asked, looking you in the eyes with the same intensity as before. His thrusting slowed, pulling you away from another orgasm. You sighed, grieving the loss of the previously incoming pleasure. “Promise you’re mine?” At first you thought this was his way of dominating you, like maybe he was going to edge you until he got what he wanted. But when you looked deeper into his diamond eyes, you saw actual fear. Now that you’d said his name, he was terrified. Terrified that he’d lose you. Terrified that, after you, nobody would ever say his name the way you did. Not with pity. Not with disappointment. Not with anger. But with as much love as could be packed into one five-letter-word.

“I promise, Touya,” you whispered. Upon the promise, Touya began to thrust into you with such fury and passion that your body became overwhelmed. Your thoughts were no longer coherent. The only sensation you could feel was Touya entering and leaving your sex as quickly as he possibly could.

Within a minute, he felt your hole pulsing around him. Touya relished the feeling of you. The pressure of your pussy around his cock made him bust unexpectedly. All of the sudden, he was emptying himself into you, the ultimate sign that you were, in fact, his. He continued thrusting, his cock aching from the overstimulation. But he needed you to cum. He was desperate for you to cry out his name again, to be the one to make you feel oh-so-much. He stood up, thrusting into you at a new angle. His thumb swiped over your soaked clit, pulling more pleasure out of you. “Come on, pretty girl,” he groaned. “I wanna feel you cum on me, wanna make you feel s’good.”

Touya’s words washed over you, only adding to the pleasure. You played with your own pebbled nipples, desperate for the orgasm you’d been denied twice now. With every single thrust a moan came tumbling from your tongue. And with a few final thrusts, Touya was emptying himself into you again. The pressure of his cum filling you up made you fall over that final edge into bliss. You cried out, “Touya~!” as your cunt clenched around him with your orgasm.

Touya let out a sigh as you came down from your high. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, his length staying inside of you for a moment. As he slowly slid out, you sighed at the loss of contact. He picked you up and switched spots with you, resting you on his lap one more time. Both of you were out of breath, your bare chests pressed against each other.

Touya’s fingers locked behind your back, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. The soft fingers on his left hand ghosted over your back, creating goosebumps on your skin. You smiled into his neck. “I love you,” you said. “Do you know that?” You sat up to look at him, your hands resting on his face. “I love you so damn much.”

Touya smiled up at you gently, the sleep beginning to wash over his body. “I love you, too,” he whispered, your forehead resting against his before you pressed a long, loving kiss into his lips. He suddenly stood up, and you let out a gasp as he picked you up. “Let’s get to bed,” he said, carrying you all the way to his bed, the mattress and box spring on the floor. When he finally rested on the mattress next to you, he covered both of you with his blankets and pulled your head to rest on his chest. You pressed feather-light kisses onto his burnt skin every once in a while. “Y’really wanna be w’th me f’rever?” he slurred, his body still processing the alcohol.

You huffed in a small laugh. “As long as you want me to stay,” you answered, never even picking your head up. You draped your arm over him and rested your hand on the opposite side of his waist.

“So,” he said, “forever, then.” It was halfway a smartass joke, halfway a correction.

You laughed again. “Yeah,” you answered. “Forever.”

This work was written by Abigail "Billie" Rothenberger. Please do not copy this work on Tumblr or any other platform.

[angelsdevils]

Debt of the Heart

Taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @maraya-007 @shelly-ya @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @thisbicc

*If you want to be added to the tag list you can fill out this form, or update it.

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chaper 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 |

One week passed, and despite giving all your money to help with the bills, it barely made a dent. Fear was written all over your parents’ faces, relieved that you weren’t there to witness what was about to unfold. The sound of knocking sliced through the air, signaling the worst was imminent. Your father rose from the couch and opened the door.

“Mr. (L/N),” Ran greeted him with a nod, his expression stoic. “I hope you had enough time to come up with the money.”

Your father swallowed hard; his throat dried as he shook his head. “It’s not all there; in fact, it probably won’t make a dent,” he tried to explain. He let Ran in, and Ran strode into the living room where your mother had prepared a tea tray. She poured tea for Ran and your father, standing beside your father as he sat across from Ran.

Ran took a sip of tea, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“So, you still don’t have the money?” Ran asked, echoing your father’s earlier admission. Your father looked down, unable to meet Ran’s gaze.

“We don’t. This is every cent we have.”

Ran’s gaze hardened at the confession, his eyes scanning the apartment. He then looked down at the money. It was roughly $500, every last penny they had.

“You know I can’t extend the deadline, right? I’ve given you plenty of chances. The boss isn’t patient, and I’ve taken a lot of heat for giving you so much time,” Ran said, standing up. He reached into his suit jacket. Before your father could react, Ran swiftly produced a gleaming silver revolver, its barrel catching the moonlight.

Your mother panicked, gasping as she recoiled. “Please, no!” she cried, her voice trembling. “We’ll find a way to pay, I swear!”

Ran remained impassive, his finger tightening on the trigger as he aimed the gun at your father’s chest.

“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid,” he declared calmly. “You had your chance, and you didn’t deliver.”

“What’s going on?” Your voice pierced through the tense atmosphere as you entered the living room. Both your parents turned to you, fear evident on your face. Ran’s eyes shifted to you, taking in your appearance.

“And who are you?” Ran asked, the gun still pointed at your father as you stood in between your parents and him, near the door.

“I’m (Y/N),” you said softly.

“And what is your relationship to them?”

“She’s just a bystander, she—”

Ran, cut off your father and glared at him. “I was asking her, not you.”

“I’m their daughter, their only daughter. What’s happening? Please, don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever it takes. If they owe money, I can give you all my paychecks until it’s paid off,” your voice cracked with fear and determination.

“(Y/N), no, Ran, please, let her go. She has nothing to do with this,” your father pleaded, worried for your safety. Your mother sobbed quietly; the small apartment felt suffocating with tension.

Ran slowly withdrew the gun from your father’s chest and took measured steps toward you. Your father instinctively reached for Ran’s arm.

“Please, Ran, I beg you.”

Ran’s eyes flickered from your father to your mother. He gently removed your father’s hand and approached you again. Your breath caught as he stood directly in front of you.

Ran tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, and he tucked the gun into his suit jacket.

“Hmm... so brave, yet so fragile, like glass about to shatter.”

You held your breath as his thumb grazed your cheek, his gaze strangely gentle as he stared into your eyes.

“How old are you?”

“I’m (age),” your voice trembled. He nodded, his eyes scanning your face before stepping back.

He nodded at your parents and adjusted his suit jacket. “You should be grateful for your daughter.”

With that, he began to leave. Confused, you watched him exit, but he paused in the doorway to look back at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said. Closing the door behind him, the house fell silent. You turned to your parents, and your father sank onto the couch. You hurried over to check on him.

“Dad, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, not hurt. But you’ve put yourself on Bonten’s radar, sweetheart. What have you done?” Your father asked, looking at you with concern.

“I don’t know who that is, but I’m just glad you’re both alive. I’ll give them the money from every paycheck I get or something,” you said optimistically. Your unwavering determination was a breath of fresh air, despite their worries about what this meant for you.

You hugged your mom next, her tears had subsided, but she still whimpered quietly. She held onto you tightly, and your father joined in, enveloping you both in a tight hug.

“I love you both so much.” Your father said, the weight of not being able to protect his family weighed heavy on his mind. 

“You tried your best, honey. It’s not your fault, we will figure this out, we have too,” your mother said. She kissed the side of your head gently, you were quiet, knowing your life would change whether it was for good or bad you didn’t know yet. 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners. The dividers go to their original owners.

[siriusleee]

adamantine chains | part 5

"Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus." "What does that mean?" "Love is rich with both honey and venom." "I suppose that is true." Or which in König finds you broken in the mountains. A (brief) retelling of Cupid and Psyche. König | Reader a/n: i did not proofread - please give me a rest. request a fic here | buy me a coffee so I don't have to work overtime and can write more first chapter | previous chapter

The months drift by, and it's almost easy to pretend you've always been here - always meant to stumble into König's life. You take a job in town at a local cafe to pass the time while König's gone, your photographs developed and sold by the front door as you brew coffee for the townspeople, stumbling over the German each day until finally, you can recognize their orders. It's a random Tuesday and König's standing outside the glass, staring intently at you, when it happens. 

You know he's waiting on you to be done, to hang up your apron and go on your walk through the village like the two of you do every day. Today you'll hand him your paycheck so he can cash it out for you; you'll try to press the money into his hands, to contribute something to the household, but König will press the money back towards you with an assurance that he has enough money, and he doesn't need yours. 

You're wiping down the counter when you hear English. Two women at the table nearest to you mention König's name, and your attention is dragged toward them.

"He probably kidnapped her - she's an American you know."

"She's probably a prisoner; he never leaves her side."

"He's gone sometimes."

"And yet she never leaves. His grandmother is helping him, I know it."

Your hands slow in their pursuit of cleanliness, trying to linger and hear their conversation.

"I wonder if she's ever seen his face. I would love to know if the rumors are true."

"Rumors?"

"Yes; apparently he's disgusting beneath that mask. A monster. You know what he does for a living right?"

The rest of their conversation is drowned out by the bell above the door. König stands there, annoyed at how long you're taking.

"Are you ready Taube?"

You glance at the two women, who are giving each other known glances. The one farthest away from you - a woman nearly twice your age looks up and catches your eye briefly. You jerk away from her gaze, dropping the rag and yanking your apron off. Your coworker waves goodbye at you from the back; you pause long enough to wave back before ducking underneath König's arm. He lingers in the doorway - and you wonder for a moment if he knew what the two women were saying. 

He falls into step beside you, and neither of you speaks. The air is warm - warmer than it's been in months. The pattern stays unbroken as you press your check into König's hand; this time, however, when he gives you the money back, you don't try to give it back to him. You can see, even with the mask hanging down and covering his face, his eyebrows knit together. He doesn't say anything as the two of you start back on your path toward where he always parks the car. 

König deviates from the path, pulling you into an alley between two homes. He presses you into the brick, blocking your view of the street. 

"König what-"

His hands slide up your shoulders until they cup your neck fingers overlapping together. He tilts your head back until you're forced to look him in the eye.

"Why do you not want to come home with me today?"

You reach up to wrap your hands around his wrists, fingers not able to wrap completely around. 

"What are you talking about König?"

His grip tightens just by a millimeter and your stomach twists - thoughts of what he could do to you, what you beg him to do to you, mix with the conversations the women were having; questions you'd buried the past few months resurfacing. 

"You did not try to force your money on me. You did not come out of work with the same smile I wait for every day I am home. What is wrong?"

"Nothing König."

"You are a liar."

You know that he can feel the way your pulse quickens beneath his hands; you swallow heavily, not wanting to tell him about what the women were saying - not about how you're sure they spoke in English to catch your attention, but not wanting to lie to him. So you don't.

"I just had some rude customers today. I just want to go home."

König doesn't say anything, but he doesn't let you go. You want to forget about what the women said, forget about the way it brought up doubts about König - about your life here. You press yourself closer to him, hands tugging on König's wrist until you pull him down to eye level. You try to reach up, to push his mask up enough to kiss him, but he pulls away, dropping his hands from his neck.

"Not here, my love."

Apparently he's disgusting beneath that mask. A monster. 

The woman's voice rings through your head as you follow König to the car. The two of you don't speak on the drive - you can't stop thinking about what could be under the mask - who you could be sleeping with every night. Things you hadn't thought about in months. 

The house is quiet and dark; you leave König behind as you disappear into the bathroom, knowing that he won't follow you behind a locked door. You let the shower warm up, steam building up as you strip slowly,  standing on your tip toes and turning in the mirror so that you can see the purple and yellow bruises König left on you the last time the two of you had sex; you had asked for him to hold you tighter, and he did.

The water burns your skin as you climb in; you grit your teeth and bare it until the water doesn't feel so terrible. You feel awful, wondering about König - about letting some random women worm their way into your mind. 

By the time you make it out of the shower, your fingers are pruny and your head is light from the hot water. Your feet slip on the tile; you catch yourself with a curse.

"Are you safe, my love?" 

Of course, König is waiting outside the door for you.

You answer him by opening the door, tucking your towel around your body; your hair drips heavily down your back. König's waiting there for you at parade rest, hands behind his back.

"I'm fine - just a slip."

König reaches towards you, and you skirt his fingers, dipping into your room to get dressed. You don't shut the door behind you - but König doesn't follow you into the room. He sighs heavily and disappears into the kitchen, boots heavy against the floor. 

Dinner is ready by the time you come out, but König is gone; your bowl grows cold on the counter. You take it with you as you search for König. You find him on the back steps, elbows resting on his knees. You sit beside him; neither of you speaks as you eat, fork scraping the bottom of the bowl.

You don't speak until you're done. The bowl seems a thousand pounds as you set it down beside you, the ceramic clinking against the stone. 

König speaks first, his voice heavy in the warm air. 

"Are you ready?"

"Ready?"

"To go home? To leave me here?"

You touch his elbow, and he stiffens. 

"Why would I leave you here, König?"

"I am not dumb, Taube. I can see how you act today."

You scrape your bare foot against the step, trying to find the right way to say it.

"I have one bad day, and you think I am going to ask you to take me home?"

"Then what?"

You pull your hand away from him and press your palms between your thighs. Wind blows your hair across your face - König reaches over to tuck it behind your ears. 

"What do you do for a living?"

König's shoulders slump down - he turns his eyes away from you, and you realize this was not a question he ever wanted to answer. 

"Why does it matter?"

"It matters because I don't know anything about you. I'm all alone up here with you, and I don't even know where you disappear to. I saw- a few months back, I saw the truck pick you up in the middle of the night, and today, two women were talking about you. About what you do. And I-", you falter, nails digging into your thigh where König can't see. 

König doesn't speak - the minutes stretch out between the two of you before he finally speaks with a heavy sigh. 

"I am in the Special Forces. I cannot say anything more than that, Taube. Please do not ask."

"And the mask?"

"Why does that matter?"

"It matters because - the women -"

"They said I am a monster, ja? That is what this entire conversation is about."

You don't speak - you don't want to confirm it. You don't want to confirm what he's saying, but your silence is enough.

"If you think I am a monster Taube, I will take you home myself."

"König no-"

"I will be going out tonight. I will be home in the morning; don't worry about me."

He leaves you on the back steps, hands still stuck between your thighs. Through the house, you hear the front door slam.

That night, you dream of your grandfather again - screaming at you about the wolves. The danger. When you wake up, sweat sticking the sheets to your bare skin, you're babbling in Polish, reaching out towards König, but finding empty space. 

You wonder, wildly in your sleep stupor, if König was the monster your grandfather was trying to warn you about. But as your heartbeat slows, the thought disappears. Your room is bright with moonlight; slipping out of bed, you wrap your quilt around your body. Your mouth tastes like cotton and blood. It's dark in the hallway - dark enough that you have to trail your fingers down the wall to keep from tripping. 

The sigh of König curled up on the couch stops you short. He's curled up pathetically small, nearly half off with his feet resting on the floor - the clinical smell of alcohol hits your nose. The carpet muffles your steps as you cross the room towards him; the wink of glass catches your eye. You try to make out the label in the dark - the circular bottle nearly empty, but you can't read the words. Your nose wrinkles as you sniff the bottle - it's strong and sweet. 

König snores lightly as you set the bottle down, and lower yourself to your knees beside him. You can't imagine how much he had to drink to get drunk; you don't even know how late he's been out. His mask flutters when he breathes out. Your fingers trace his bicep, across his chest - he doesn't stir. You know you should wake him, but you don't.

Instead, your fingers snake up to his mask and you start to slide it up, freezing when his breathing hitches. Your fingers shake as you pull it up, pushing past his chin until his face is lit up in the moonlight.  

You realize that you'd never imagined what he looked like - and if you did you wouldn't have been close. His hair is cropped close and so blonde it's nearly white. His nose is crooked - it must have been broken at least twice. The scar you felt on his lips flattens out towards his ear - the flesh a stark contrast to the skin around it. 

You have no idea where the monster rumors have come from - you don't think you've ever seen someone more beautiful. 

He shifts, and all at once, you're awash in shame. You shouldn't have done that; you've invaded his privacy. You let the mask fall down to its original position, and pull away. 

Faster than you would have ever thought he could move, König has you on your back; it doesn't seem to take a second before he's flipped you onto the couch, one of his hands wrapped around your wrist and the other pressing down painfully on your chest. 

"I'm sorry König; I'm so sorry. Please."

His grip on your wrist tightens painfully; you gasp and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you go. 

"What are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry König. I don't know what came over me - please - I'm sorry."

You can smell the sweet alcohol on his breath when he leans forward, his face inches from yours. 

"I have killed men for less than that, Taube."

You shiver, hardly recognizing the man in front of you. All at once, you see a hint at the man the two women were talking about in the cafe. 

"Please König - I just - I am so sorry. Please."

You don't realize you're crying until König reaches up to brush the tears off of your cheek. He drops your wrist gently. 

"Did you enjoy looking at the das schreckliche Biest. At the horrible monster." He spits his words out as if they burn him; as if he's trying to unload them off onto you. "Are you going to go screaming to the village about how you've seen my face - how they need to be here with pitchforks?"

In all the months you've been here, you've never heard him speak with such vitriol, but he still doesn't raise his voice at you. 

"König no; you're-"

"You don't need to say it, Taube."

"Say what?"

"That I am hideous."

He says it like it's a fact - like it's the only truth he's ever known. And you realize it probably is. Your hands tangle in the front of his shirt; he doesn't fight you as you pull yourself closer to him, but he keeps his hands between the two of you - ready to make distance at any possible moment. 

He doesn't fight you as you lift his mask up - but he keeps his eyes shut as the mask falls to the side. He flinches when your fingertips trace his jawline, the muscle jumping beneath your fingertips. 

"Please, Taube."

He's pleading; you know that, but for what you can't say. 

"Please what, König?"

"I-," his eyes are still clenched shut, and his breathing is ragged. "I need you to stop."

"If that's what you really want König."

His head follows your hand as you pull it away; his hand catches yours and presses it against his cheek. His stubble is prickly beneath your fingers. 

"I - I don't know what I want."

You trace your fingers across his lips.

"Look at me König." He doesn't; you repeat yourself and this time, he obliges. 

You take him in, your hand warm beneath his palm. When you shift, he does too until he's kneeling between your knees. He shivers beneath your palms - his eyes never leave yours.

"Come to bed with me, Köni. Please."

"Taube, I can't. I-"

"Please."

He doesn't speak as he stands, pulling you up with him. He lets you lead him back to his bedroom, the darkness enveloping the both of you as the door swings shut. 

[kindnessisweakness2]

1

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Noah groaned loudly. Jax and Tig turned and went to ask him whats wrong but Noah, their recently patched member of Samcro, was already making his way out of the TM Garage. There was a girl making her way across the lot, swinging a baseball bat from her shoulders. She wore black vans, blue denim shorts and a white vest top. Tattoos littered one leg completely and the thigh of her other. Her arms were also covered but she was too far to see the designs properly. She was beautiful, her hair was dyed a bright purple on one side and black on the other and it was tied up in a messy bun. If she didnt have a face full of anger Jax would definitely of hit on her. “You cheating fucking scumbag.” The scream from the girl got the rest of the clubs attention as they made their way out of the clubhouse. Even Gemma came out of her office. “Em please! I dont know what your talking about!” The girl laughed in Noahs face. “Oh so your gonna try and lie to me again? I FOUND HER FUCKING UNDERWEAR IN OUR BED YOU PRICK!” Jax watched as the girl swung at Noah’s bike, taking the wing mirror clean off. “Get the fuck away from my bike you psycho!” Noah shouted. “OH YOU MEAN THE BIKE I FUCKING PAID FOR?” The girl took another swing at the bike, this time taking the other wing mirror and headlight out in one. “Yeah tell your little fucking biker buddies, how you wouldnt even have a bike if it wasnt for me! Tell them that the subs you pay them each week come out of my fucking paycheck!” Swinging at the bike again, the girl took the exhaust clean off. “ Thats what you do to me is it Noah? I support you. Pay for all your shit, pick up after you like your a goddamn child and you have the fucking Nerve to cheat on me? In my own fucking home!” The girl pulled a pen knife from her pocket and slashed both of Noahs tyres. “No baby! i didnt! I wouldnt!” Noah tried to reason with her but clearly it was getting him nowhere. “Your fucking pathetic.” The girl pulled a pair of underwear from her pocket and threw it in Noah’s face. “I bet you gave her the best 5 seconds of her whole life. Newsflash mate, your shit in bed. If you fucked her like you fucked me she probably had to go to the bathroom after to finish what you couldnt.” Noah went bright red at the insult and Jax couldnt help but laugh. The girl turned her attention towards him and made her way over. “I suggest when you next pick someone to join your club, dont pick a lying prick who doesnt even own the bike he sits on.” And with that, the girl turned and made her way out of the lot. 

Clay shook his head at Noah. “Church now.” He called and everyone started making their way into the Clubhouse. “I like her. Shes spunky!” Jax shook his head at his moms comment. Ofcourse Gemma likes the new Psychopath in charming.  Making his way into the meeting room, he took his VP seat next to Clay and watched the chaos unfold. "So your telling me your girl has been paying your way? That's a fucking joke Noah." Every member of the group nodded in agreement. Yeah sure alot of them stepped out on their old ladies, especially with the road rule. But living off your woman and cheating in your home town? That was a no no. "Look, she supported me. With everything. She pays my subs and yes she owns the bike. Even gives me fuel money for the runs we go on. I didn't mean to get caught cheating. I thought I was on Top of it. Never thought she would find out." Jax shook his head at Noah's admission. "It's not that she found out Asshole! It's how you've treated her. A good woman that supports you like that is hard to fucking come by! The road rule is there for a reason! Fuck half of us round this table would kill for an old lady like that. But the fact is, a man that dont pay his way aint a man at all!" Piney snapped at a panicked looking Noah. Piney rarely spoke but everyone knew the level of anger that old man could reach, oxygen tank or not. Noah fell silent at Piney’s Outburst. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Your busted back to prospect.” Clay announced before taking a drag on his Cigar. Noah’s eyes widened, “Thats fucking Bullshit! I’ve not even had my patch 3 months!” Tig’s eyes glossed over in anger as he watched the newbie shout at his president. Reaching out, he grabbed the back of Noah’s neck and slammed his face on the Redwood Table. “Did you just raise your voice at your president?” Noah squirmed against Tigs hold. “Now, you either prospect for another 18 months, pay your own fucking way and earn your patch back. Or you leave, and you know what happens then.” Clay gave Noah the ultimatum and the rest of the club fell silent as they waited for Noah to make his choice. “I’ll Stay.” Tig Released his hold on the young lad before pulling him up by his kutte and roughly dragging it from his shoulders. Happy smirked as he threw a prospect kutte in Noahs face before Tig Pushed him out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Jax looked at Clay confused. “We’re really gonna give him another chance? He doesnt even own a bike?” Clay shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone around this table knows he’s gonna fuck up. Especially not having that girl keeping him in line. But when he fucks up i want him close, where i can see it and deal with it. We really do not need a loose cannon right now. Anyway, go see that girl. All her details are on the paperwork for the bike, Gemma’s gonna need to know what to do with it.” Jax shook his head in disbelief at Clay. He couldnt believe it. Noah should be kicked out of this clubhouse head fucking first. He didnt earn his place in this club, his woman did. He also couldnt believe the nerve of being ordered to visit the firecracker that was this girl. For all he knew, she would never want to see a Son’s of Anarchy Patch again. So Clay really was throwing him in the line of fire here. 

However, despite his obvious disagreement, Jax got up from his seat at the table and made his way out of the clubhouse. The only thing he could think on his way out of Teller Morrow was maybe he should’ve stopped for his bulletproof vest. 

Pulling up to the address that his mum text him, Jax was Suprised at how quiet it was. Considering her performance at the lot earlier, he was expecting screaming and a trashed house. Instead he found her sat on her front porch quietly smoking a cigarette. "Hey" he spoke softly as he approached her. Like she was a wounded animal that could kick out in fear and pain at any moment. She looked up at him through glossy eyes. Her cheeks were red and hair falling out of her messy bun, but despite her upset appearance Jax still thought she was beautiful. That couldn't be denied. "Hi, look I'm sorry for my outburst today-" she started to explain, but Jax cut her off quickly. “Dont Sweat it Darlin’. From what i heard, he deserved it.” He spoke as he took a seat next to her on the porch steps. Pulling a cigarette out of his pocket he lit it and took a few puffs. “I’ve been sent to ask what you want doing with the bike. It aint his and after everything the clubs not letting him keep it. Your names on the paperwork, so what do you want doing to it?” Jax watched as she rolled her eyes. “What the fuck am i gonna do with a Harley? Just Fix it and sell it. Strip it for parts. Fuck burn it for all i care.” She shrugged at Jax’s shocked expression. “Thats an expensive Bike, surely your gonna want it back?” Jax tried to encourage her to take the bike. “Yeah, ofcourse it was expensive. But i honestly couldnt give a shit. You like it, you  have it.” Jax raised his hands in mock surrender as the anger in the girls eyes flashed. “Okay Darlin’ you win. You’ll have to come by the garage tomorrow tho. Sign the bike over.” She sighed and pushed her fallen hair behind her ear. “Yeah, sure.” Jax stood and started to make his way down the path towards his bike. “Oh and my name aint Darlin’ either.” She called after him making him turn to face her. “Its Emily.” 

*******************************************************************************************

Hi Guys,

This is something new I’ve been working on. I have 2 more chapters if you turn out to like it. Please please let me know what you think!!

Love to you all!!  

[funnybreadd]

The Nutcracker

(Cross post from Ao3 here's the link)

-Chapter One- Season Greetings

Holidays were a wonderful time of year for everyone, who sang carols in the streets, and gave gifts to one another, as they spent time with their family. Abel's household was no different, a mansion living on the cross of Main Street and Circus Street. As a little boy with snow white hair in a bob-cut ran up the stairs and through the corridors, until he reached a room with a sign in cursive letters that read, 'Pomni.' Quickly rushing in, without a knock.

Light filled the room, warm colors illuminating Pomni, her brunette hair turning caramel. Tossing and turning in her sleep, grumbling, from the sound of her door, creaking open, before slamming shut. The white haired boy climbed onto her king-sized bed, jumping on it "Pomni, Pomni!" The little boy exclaimed, crawling over the maroon covers to shake his sister awake.

"What?" Pomni grumbled, as she tossed to her side, facing towards open curtains, turning her vision red. 

"It's Christmas eve!" The boy excitedly cheered, still shaking the brunette so hard and fast she'd get brain damage. Pomni didn't really care for the holidays, trying to block him out, before she couldn't take it. "You know what that means?" He was so giddy about it, still bouncing on her bed, anticipating her answer.

Pomni had finally gotten up, rubbing her eyes, and stretching. "So what Bubble?" She yawned, still half asleep, not very interested in the one-sided conversation. Bubble seemed somewhat disappointed, before reiling himself up again.

"That means father's coming home!" Of course. Her first Christmas. Well the first with the Abel's at least. Pomni wasn't really a Christmas person, and with the fact that she was bouncing her from home to home who didn't see her as a family member and more of a paycheck didn't really help either. 

Her new family was wealthy, well organized with a single father, Caine Abel, who took 2 orphans under his wing, to try to fake living a normal happy life for his image and maybe even fantasy of a family. At least that's how Pomni saw it. 

"We can't miss his train." Bubble acted like it was the end of the world if they didn't greet him at his stop. He was always away with work, coming home only on rare occasions. Pomni had even forgotten what he looked like, what color were his eyes, or his hair. She didn't even know what he did for work. Was he a doctor, a journalist, a puppeteer? What job would have him away for so long and make so much money?

"Doesn't it still not come for a couple hours?" Pomni shot bullets through the little boy's excitement. The white-haired boy stopped his jumping, cheeks puffed out, lips in a pout. 

"So?"

"Soooo, let me sleep in." The brunette deadpanned, going back to snuggling back under her covers. Hoping this would drive him off to go bother someone else.

"Buuuuut, we have to eat, get ready, and drive there." Bubble stated as a matter-of-fact, listing off the things they needed to do first. She hated when Bubble was right, often rubbing it in her face later. Getting up once she groaned as her younger adopted brother, beamed with Pomni finally coming along with his plans.

Bubble dragged her out of bed, by the arm, as the brunette nearly fell out of her bed with how hard he was pulling. "AAAHH!-" She squeaked out before shuffling Pomni out of her room, barely giving her time to wake up. Through the long corridors, covered in portraits of old people long since passed, that Pomni always found creepy, as if hundreds of eyes of smudged paintings were watching her.

Rushing down the stairs, the brunette could keep up, with this little girl's enthusiasm, nearly tripping her on several steps. "Bubble, watch out!" Pomni screeched at a halt, at a maid with a tray of breakfast clearly meant for them. This made Bubble in her mismatched socks slide forward to nearly fall face first into the maid, if it weren't for her still having hold on her older sister. The maid jumped, anticipating the young madame to slam into her.

"Sorry about that, Agatha." Pomni Quickly apologized, ripping her arm from Bubble's grasp, making him stumble forward just a bit, scratching the back of her head, a wry smile plastered on her face. Agatha seemed to settle down, taking in a sigh of relief, the tray and food still in tack. 

"It's quite alright Miss Pomni." The ginger-haired maid softly smiled, before a curious expression took hold. "Pardon me for my intrusion but, what are you doing up so early?"

The brunette laughed awkwardly. "Well-"

"It's because father's coming home!" The white-haired boy jumped, while emanating with enthusiasm. Agatha giggled at Bubble's joy. "Ooo, is that breakfast?" He stood on his tippy toes to see the tray. There were two plates both having had two eggs, Sunny Side up, with stripes of bacon resembling a smile, and cut up 2 triangle cut pieces of toast slathered in butter and jam, acting as eyebrows, alongside with one holiday themed cup of inky black coffee.

Pomni didn't know much about her new younger brother, but what she did know was that Bubble was just as his name applied. A joyful, bubbly personality with a love for anything edible, sometimes not even not edible, hearing stories of when Bubble was little-er, chewing on anything like a puppy teething from servants cooing over the 9 year old, behind his back. Very-very easily distracted.

"Sure is." Agatha hummed, nodding her head. "I was about to bring it to you both. But how about we eat in the dining room?" Bubble nodded her head in agreement, while Pomni was a bit more hesitant. The dining table was long and meant for a bundle of people all lined up chairs that seemed almost cartoonist. It felt lonely sitting there, so many chairs empty, made the giant rectangular room even more lonely, nothing but the sound of chewing to keep you company.

"Can you eat with us?" Of course Bubble would ask Agatha to eat with them. She was always the most motherly of the servants, often taking care of him, like treating wounds, reading and or singing him to sleep, long before Pomni arrived, hearing about them through from the white-haired boy gushing about her; it was no wonder with no mother figure Bubble would cling to her. The maid hummed in agreement, leaning down to her as best she could without dropping the food.

The trio walked through the seemingly endless halls. She had always forgotten how big this house was. Tons of empty guest rooms, storage rooms, and other sorts of 'activity rooms'- as Caine would call them, each room decorated with a hobby in mind. There was one for music, one for sewing, even one for cooking; 'anything for you to adjust to your new life here' he said to Pomni the first day she arrived.

They arrived at the large dining room, it was imitating as ever. A long dark smoothed out wooden table that stretched out the long room, hundreds of dark coral red chairs with the same type of wood lining, small gold buttons in patterns. A giant chandelier, of jewels and tinted glass that hung above right in the middle of it. None lit candelabras spaced in a neat line. The cherry on top was the frigid air of winter making it feel more empty.

Pomni took in a breath, as soft footsteps echoed followed by the silent steps of Bubble through the room, the clatter of the plates being set down the edge of the table. Agatha gestured for her to come over, after sliding a chair open for the 9 year old and her. The brunette took a steps forward towards the chair, sitting down. She looked at her breakfast and the once smiley face of bacon slices was gone now replaced a straight face, resembling her mood at the moment.

"Where's yours?" Bubble questioned the ginger, already an egg stuffed in his mouth, yolk smudged on his chin, earning a slight giggle from the freckled woman.

She thought Bubble's concerns were sweet. "That's sweet honey, but I already ate." Agatha explained, leaving the little boy looking betrayed due to her previous saying that she'd eat with them. Licking her thumb, before wiping the runny yolk away. 

Pomni envied their relationship, that they were so close; she hadn't been that close with anyone since the incident. Stirring the yolk with a fork, bursting its bubble, she really didn't feel hungry. The frown on her bacon seemed more clear. "Is something wrong?" Pomni looked up at the two side by side.

"No, just still waking up." She partially lied. It was technically true, she was still tired, but her stomach was turned upside down. As the saying would go 'fake till you make it,' Pomni took a sip of her coffee. She never did like bitter things, and mixed without sour attitude made it taste worse, but she bit her tongue and swallowed it down. Taking a bite of her toast to try and drown out the bitterness; it did help somewhat, the sweet strawberry jelly along with the smooth soft butter melted her taste buds.

It was too quiet, Agatha and Pomni noticing, while Bubble was too indulged in his food. "So what do you think Master Caine will bring this year?" She broke the silence, with a simple question. Excited the white-haired boy, trying hurrying up the pace of chewing to talk. That distracted not only Bubble but Pomni too. She assumed something exotic from across the world, or something priceless that would cost a fortune at some fancy auction. By the way of how eccentric he talked she figured it would be something definitely weird.

Forcing herself to stomach the remaining breakfast and slurping down the coffee. Pomni regretted drinking the coffee last, the harsh flavor stinging her tongue. While Agatha and Bubble talked about what he would bring back, from some more shaped plushies he'd call gloinks to red spaghetti legged and armed monkeys. She remembered seeing those 'gloinks' around everywhere, never in the same place, seemingly moving in the night, but was just Bubble pranking her, trying to scare his new sibling.

"How about we get ready for Master Caine's arrival?" The maid suggested, Bubble was already out of his chair at the idea, half way out the door. She supposed she was obligated to see him; the man she would have to call him 'father' more often until she turned 18. Walking through the entrance to the room, leaning on the frame. Agatha collected the plates and cup back on the tray, heading to the kitchen, before joining them alongside another female servant. Walking the two back through the hallways and stairways. Until the split on the second floor, Pomni's being on the fourth. 

The other maid, Abigail, opened her door for Pomni. Her room was barely decorated besides from her bed, a chest at the end of it Collecting dust inside, a dresser with a mirror next to a stool on the other side of the room. A brush and some fancy well known makeup brand on top of it. 2 giant oak closets right besides the dresser filled with primary colors and various shades of different blues, reds, and yellows simple dresses, with a keyhole on the right one for some reason. Finally two side bed tables touching the top of her bed.

Pomni sat on the stool a dull navy blue satin cushion beneath her, as Abigail went through the left closet. Flipping through dresses, while Pomni tried to imagine what was the last she saw Caine. Then it clicked, he had only seen him once in the 2 months she had stayed there, when giving a personal tour of the comically large house. It felt like it took hours to explain and explore each room. The maid finally chose a beige yellow dress, sugar cookie yellow and white trimming of ruffles at the sleeves and rim at the dress.

The dark-skinned woman unbuttoned Pomni's baby blue night gown. It felt warm, fingers un-clipping the small white buttons sometimes brushing against her pale skin, before the cold hit her body being only her panties and bra. Abigail slid on the dress, falling to her knees, it felt silky smooth in the fabric. The maid tapped her chin as she thought for final touches, before she moved on with hair and makeup. Finally she got it, satin white gloves, and slip on brown shoes.

Next was her makeup, which retaliating easy. She clipped Pomni's hair back with bobby pins, before doing simple highlighter, contour, and blush that was a little too pink. Finally was her hair; which the maid couldn't much with how short it was, only able to brush through it, but still attempted to do even the smallest bun. Abigail seemed satisfied with her work, as Pomni starred in the mirror, her blue and red eyes staring back at her. Pomni was also satisfied in her look, slightly smiling to herself.

Bubble's rampaging footsteps of clacking soles, getting louder, as muffled sounds for her to 'slow down' from Agatha. Reaching around the hallway, once he saw Pomni, waving at her. Dressed in the same loafers as she had. Taupe coat blazer, mahogany pants, cuffed at his ankles, a white buttoned up undershirt, and his hair well groomed for once. "Pomni, hurry up," He called to her, seemingly not tired from running all those stairs. "Agatha said there's only an hour before father's train arrives!" He was right, even with an hour left, it was still a long while before they reached there.

"Coming!" She called, in a light jog following behind Bubble, after grabbing her dark coat, sliding it on as she followed.

 

. . .

 

The streets were full of bustling people, buying gifts, giving them, families reuniting, and just general work, not getting the day off for Christmas. Small shops, boutiques, and tall buildings squashed together, all covered in Christmas decorations. Frost caked everything, nooks and crannies stuffed with snow. The cobblestone sidewalks, full of cracks, that Bubble purposely stepped on each one, even if it slowed them down; after being the one who told them to hurry.

"Be careful." Pomni warned him, Bubble hopping from crack to crack on the icy path. Bubble didn't seem to acknowledge her though, still taking purposely footsteps on the cracks in his reach. "Are you sure we couldn't just take the car?" The brunette asked Agatha; who Bubble just insisted to come with, claiming 'she's family enough.'

"The walk isn't too far, and it's nice to get our minds healthy." Agatha's hand gripped tightly around the nine year old, also aware of the danger of him slipping. "Besides, we're already halfway there." It was true, it would just take more time to go back and get the car, and Pomni wanted to get this over with. I mean she didn't hate him by all means, she had only meant him once after all.

Pomni took in a sigh, cold air feeling her lungs, causing her to slightly shudder. She took the maid's hand tighter, so as not to get lost in the sea of people, pushing and shoving. Pomni with her short build, and being 15 could only see people's chest, muted colors of scarves, and coats. It was surprising Bubble hadn't bumped into anyone while walking, eyes trained on the ground.

They would soon come to the train station, where Pomni would reunite with temporary family. She semni lost in thought, trying to remember what Caine looked like. How fair was his skin, or how well brushed his hair was, the color of it. She didn't remember much but what she did remember was a red suit that oddly stuck out to her. Pomni thinks it was the shade of red he was wearing-being a wonderful shade of red, like burgundy but lighter, and pink more akin to pink-red.

Before she knew it, Pomni had heard the sounds of nosey trains, halting to a stop, as people got on and off. Through the vast sea of people, Bubble poking their head in every which way direction, looking for the man. But being as tall as he was, barely able to see past people's stomach, no matter how hard he tried, even getting on his tippy toes, or leaning his body away from Agatha, to the small crack of free space weren't occupying. Pomni was also curious, despite having mixed feelings.

"There's my little superstars!" A man left the train, briefcase in tow. He looked somewhat akin to the man she imagined in her head. A slim figure-almost boney like Pomni- Auburn hair, that was very messy; even though his mustache was finely brushed, covered by a black top hat with the same Pomni had remembered ribbon earlier. He was more tanner than Pomni and Bubble, but not by much. The same rose tailcoat he had worn when first meeting Pomni, with black and white accents. Black leggings that didn't seem to end, blending in with his socks. Black dress shoes, and a black bow tie. One blue eye and green eye.

He stood in a small opening, setting down his briefcase, opening his arms, anticipating an embrace. Bubble ripped out of the ginger's hand, so fast she got whiplash. "Father, Father!" He chanted, running towards him for a hug. Caine quickly scooped Bubble up, embracing him tightly. Pomni held the maid's hand tighter, another thing about him was his look, that threw her off. He looked like a crazed man in business attire, bulging eyes, a crooked toothy grin, his hair washed but the bird nests of hair didn't really help.

Bubble and his father had their moment, before the man turned her attention to Pomni, expecting for her to run up and hug him like her little brother did. She found it rude to just stare. She didn't know what to say or do. It was rude to stay silent and stare like he was some mystery of the world. But Pomni couldn't find the right words to address him, tripping over her tongue. "Hello, father." She spoke begrudgingly, with an uncertainty.

"Greetings my dear Pomni." He seemed not to acknowledge the awkwardness. Letting go of Bubble, he expected some sort of hug, even kneeling down to her level, arms open. Agatha nudged her forward, Pomni's hands were clammy, as she clenched her fists. Slowly making her way to her now father. Pomni wrapped an arm around him, forcing a smile. Thinking of what to say, it would be too impolite to just call him Caine, but she wasn't close enough to call him father.

"It's nice to see you again."

"It's nice to see you too." The silence was deafening, both embraced in each not sure really of what to do next. Caine broke the silence with a sudden springing up, giving Pomni whiplash with the sudden change of movement, nearly tearing her arm off, being wrapped around his shoulder. "Now it's been awhile, how about we take a walk around town?"

"I can't wait to tell you about everything!" Bubble enthusiastically said, emphasizing the 'everything.' His dark eyes are full of joy, you'd only get from a child. Caine patted him on his head, ruffling his once combed hair. They started walking, talking about things while Caine was away, Pomni timidly following behind.

Just great.

[skzhocomments]

In the Dark - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

General masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

---

Chapter 2 - Take my breath away

chapter word count: ~6.6k words

~Jieun’s POV~

Mondays are always the worst day of the week, as the weekend barely provides enough time to actually recharge and get my energy back after dealing with screaming children for 5 days straight.

I love my job, but teaching elementary school kids their 2+2s and ABCs is not exactly the dream, is it?

It was mine, though. I’ve always loved kids and found a lot of fascination in the idea of bringing up someone, in being able to shape a small person’s thoughts and ideas, in being able to perhaps influence them so that they would remember you 20 years later when they’re all grown up and successful. I wanted them to look back at this time spent with me in our small classroom fondly, to create a safe space for them so that they can grow up into the best version of themselves.

It's still my dream, but the problem is the money, that is hardly enough for my current expenses. Ever since my grandmother got sick, I knew I had to uproot our lives, and I brought her here, in the biggest city of our country, after managing to secure a job as a teacher at a small school in a quiet neighbourhood, so that she can have access to the best healthcare. Her hospital bills and meds, though, combined with my rent and food, are a fatal combination for my paycheck.

But you know the saying: desperate times call for desperate measures.

I was no different, and I knew that if my grandmother were to ever find out what I was doing in order to keep her hospitalized with 24/7 care available, she would at best disown me, at worst kill me with her bare hands.

inthedark.com

A website where you would essentially apply to become a high-end prostitute. A site that’s supposed to keep your identity completely private, and your clients’, too.

I joined this website one week ago and had my first client last Saturday, and for just two hours with him, I got almost half of my school paycheck. He also tipped me 200$, which was crazy. Who tips a prostitute that much?

I shouldn’t be doing this, I know, but what was I supposed to do? Let the person who raised me pass away in pain, when I knew she could get treatment to help her live a decent life for a few more years?

~

I lazily got out of bed and headed to school. It was 7:30 AM, and the school was just a few minutes’ walk away.

I liked to get there earlier so that I could rearrange the kid’s seats and make sure my classroom is perfect. We had an art contest last week, and I wanted to put all the paintings on display on the wall for the kids to see. I wanted to set up my cookie jar as well, because the best way to start the day for anyone would be with a nice little treat.

“Miss Park, good morning!” The director of the school, a lady well in her late 50s was inside of my classroom and welcomed me with a big smile on her face. Next to her, a tall, slim good-looking man holding a little girl’s hand smiled as welcoming as the director.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wang. What brings you here so early in the morning?” I returned their smiles and nodded briefly at the man, then turned my attention to the little girl hiding behind her dad’s leg. I waved at her, but she only hid her face more.

“Well, we have a new transfer student. Dear, won’t you introduce yourself?” Mrs. Wang tried to get the little girl to talk and looked at her expectedly. “Come on, we don’t have the whole morning!” She continued, making the little girl turn her head away, and a frown appear on her father’s face. Forcing a shy kid to say anything would prove pointless, so I tried to diffuse the situation.

“Actually,” I started, “we do have the whole morning. What a beautiful day to get to know each other, don’t you think?” I smiled brightly and took a few careful steps towards the dad-daughter pair, letting myself fall on my knees to be on the same height as the girl.

“Well, I’ll let you handle this. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Choi.” The director smiled and left the room.

After the director left, the girl seemed a bit less tense. Her father caressed the back of her beautiful, long, brown, curly hair, and spoke kind words.

“It’s okay, baby. You can tell the nice teacher your name.”

The girl still shook her head, and her dad started apologising. “I’m really sorry, she’s not normally like this. Her name is-”

“That’s fine.” I cut him off. “We can learn each other’s names later, isn’t that right, beautiful?” I smiled at her lovingly, and she finally looked at me for a few seconds. “I have something really tasty for you and your future classmates.”

I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the large bag of chocolate cookies that I baked yesterday. “But I have to put them in that big jar on the desk. I’m not sure I can do it alone. Would you like to help me put the cookies in the jar? You can have two cookies if you help me, but it has to be our secret.” I whispered and placed my index finger against my lips, then winked.

The girl seemed excited, as she nodded eagerly with a bright smile on her face and ran to the desk. I followed her, and gave her the bag of cookies, letting her put each cookie into the jar; a simple activity that helped calm her down and warm up to me.

“Wow, you’re so good at this!” I praised her, and she chuckled like the innocent kid she was, reminding me of why I loved children so much. If I would ever have a daughter, I wanted her to be just as cute as this little girl who’s happily putting cookies in the jar one by one with her little hands.

“Done.” She smiled, showing me and her dad her work proudly.

“Well done, baby!” Her dad praised her as well.

“Now it’s time to eat a cookie!” I clapped my hands once, and the girl took some cookies out and came to me and her dad, handing them to us. Of course, we accepted and started eating them, as the girl grabbed a cookie for her as well and munched on it joyfully.

“How is it?” I asked the girl, watching her devour the treat.

“Tasty!” She exclaimed, making me and her dad look at each other and chuckle. “I love chocolate!”

“I’m glad you like it. I made them myself!” I boasted, then chuckled again. “My name is Park Jieun. I’m really happy to have you join my class, and I hope we’ll be best friends.” I told the girl, who nodded and replied.

“My name is Choi Nari. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Park. Can I hug you?”

“Of course, come here!” I positioned myself back on my knees and opened my arms to her, squeezing her tight. She was the sweetest little girl.

“Where will I sit?”

“Hmm, how about this seat here?” I went next to the first desk next to the window and pointed to the seat on the left, which hasn’t been occupied. “Your deskmate is a sweet girl just like you, and I think you’ll get along great.”

The girl happily ran towards her seat and her dad followed her, placing her small backpack on the table.

“Okay, Nari, daddy has to go to work.” The man spoke kindly. “I will come pick you up at 4, okay?”

“Okay daddy! I love you!” She waved.

“I love you the most!” He smiled and waved back, and I saw him out of the classroom.

We walked for a bit, and I closed the door behind us, giving Nari privacy to take out her stuff in peace and arrange them on her desk.

“Thank you so much, Miss. Park. Nari already seems better.”

“Nothing to thank me for, Mr… Choi?” I tilted my head and smiled, unsure.

“Oh, yes! I apologise, I completely forgot to properly introduce myself earlier. My name’s Choi Minho.” He nervously scratched his nape and handed me his hand, which I shook.

“No worries.” I chuckled. “May I ask why you transferred Nari in 2nd grade?”

“She… has been bullied at her old school, and…”

“Oh no.” I frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hope she’ll be better here. She really seems to like you. Please take care of her and let me know if anything happens.” He bowed slightly.

“Of course. Please don’t worry about anything. She’s in good hands.” I assured him, and he raised his head.

Opening up his coat, he took out a small business card and handed it to me. “This is my number, please call me anytime if Nari needs anything, or if something’s wrong. Sometimes I’m a few minutes late to pick her up, but I’m going to try to be here on time. Still, could I also have your number in case I’m running late?”

“Of course.” I smiled and typed in his number from the business card in my phone, shooting him a quick text with my name.

“Thank you so much, Miss Park. I see kids are already starting to come, so I’m gonna leave you to your job. Have a nice day!”

“You too, Mr. Choi.” I smiled and stepped back into my classroom, where Nari already finished arranging her notebooks and was now excitedly looking at all the paintings on the walls.

Damn, the paintings! I cursed in my head, remembering I wanted to stick the ones from last week’s art contest on the walls, but it was already too late to do so.

Children started buzzing into the classroom, their parents holding their hands tightly and kissing their chubby cheeks goodbye, as the next time they would come pick them up would be in some many hours from now: 6, 7 or even 8, to be more precise. Even if the classes ended at 12, the school I secured a job at gave the working parents the possibility of coming late for pick up.

When the parents were gone and the whole class was seated, I asked Nari to come in front and I helped her introduce herself, making sure that she felt as comfortable as one shy child could in a new environment.

~

2 AM found me drinking tea on the small sofa in my rented apartment. Normal people would sleep this late on a Thursday night, but here I was browsing through people’s forms in Requests on the In the Dark app.

Meeting Charisma last week got me a lot of money, and ever since then, I’ve received a few requests from others, but I’ve been pretty reluctant to meet up with anyone else. Charisma set the bar quite high. Not only was he fit as fuck, which I could tell just by roaming my hands on his chest and perfectly sculpted abs and muscles, but he was genuinely good in bed too, not selfish, made sure I felt good and even made me cum, which was a first for a random hook-up, and certainly not what I expected when I signed up on inthedark.com as a prostitute.

His special requirements were also normal, compared to the others I’ve seen which were at best degenerate. I kept rejecting other ‘applicants’, but I wasn’t sure if I should keep my expectations high or just go with whoever was willing to pay the price I gave myself.

It felt horrible, objectifying myself like that, having to decide what my body sells for and actively selling it away. I have become just a trash toy for someone to use as they please. I have become damaged goods, an object purely crafted for sexual function. I have become dirt, and I was now a dirty woman.

inthedark.com was, after all, a dirty place stinking putrid. Even if the font was a fancy Centeria Script, the name shining in golden letters on a black screen, even if it looked presentable, drawing you in with every click, promising all and any fantasy, wild, rough sex under the pretense of a poor woman’s factual desire, it was just a filthy site, gaudy and cheap, like any other brothels out there. The more it seems to shine, the more it’s actually teeming with decay.

The only good things this site offered were how private everything was and letting me at least make the choice myself of who to sell my body to. There were extensive documents everyone who wanted to become a member – be it customer or whore – had to provide, from medical records to personal information that was stored to be used against you in case you would violate the terms and conditions. They would sue you to oblivion if you so much as brought a source of light in the room.

At least that.

It was private and it was safe from a medical point of view.

The first (and only) customer I had was this Charisma dude, who, as I said, set the bar in the fucking sky. He was respectful and treated me more like a partner than like a mere prostitute, even if he didn’t want to kiss me.

I understood that, for I probably was, in his eyes, a dirty whore who fucked men for money.

Still, I was really grateful that my first customer was Charisma. He didn’t know how many demons I was battling while letting him touch me and while touching him. He didn’t know how much I hated myself for disposing of my principles in exchange for my grandmother’s hospital bills. He didn’t know any of it. Still, he treated me with care. He didn’t degrade me more than I was already degrading myself, and I was thankful for that, because otherwise I didn’t know how I would’ve been able to live with my regrets and with this guilty feeling pressing down on my chest every time I breathed.

7 requests to go through. I sighed, still unsure if what I was doing was the right thing. I didn’t want to fuck strangers for money, in fact, I was always against women flaunting their tits and asses and pussies to earn some, but then again, I think there aren’t too many people that geuinely want to do this kind of work anyway, and how else was I supposed to get more money without it affecting my day-to-day life and job? It’s not like I could go get hired somewhere else and work another 6 hours per day for the whole month, just to get the same pay check I made after a few hours of sex.

Still, I really didn’t want to accept other forms. Charisma’s money was going to pay for my grandma’s care this month, so I could technically not get any clients until next month without any issues.

Yes, maybe I should just reject them all and whatever comes next month, I will take.

Another sigh left my lips as I looked at my now cold cup of tea, just as a ping forcefully pulled me out of my thoughts.

1 new notification – inthedark

I pressed on it and a new request popped up.

It was Charisma.

---

CHARISMA – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Hello Flame, I was hoping I would see you again this Saturday. Just like I mentioned in my last form, I love everything intimacy-related.

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: No kissing on the lips, please.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM (if you pick the NO CONDOM option, you have to attach a report of a recent medical check-up that ensures you don’t have an STD): no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: Feels weird to communicate this way, but not knowing who you are and you not knowing who I am is probably better for both. I’m really sorry for the dirty question, but… how’s your gag reflex? I would love to fuck your throat if you’d let me :) Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you.

---

Charisma wanted to see me again on Saturday night. He booked 4 hours this time.

I really didn’t want to accept other forms. But if it’s him…

I think… I might just accept it.

Why not?

He was great in bed. He paid attention to every part of my body.

He held me afterwards.

Why not?

I started reading through his form and found it very funny how he used each column to have a ‘conversation’ of sorts. All the other clients would simply write what they wanted or didn’t want, forgetting there was a human being on the other side of the form.

He even wrote please, for fuck’s sake. Did he forget I’m just a whore?

Of course, that doesn’t mean I will forget about you. He wrote that. Why? Does he want me to enjoy the sex that badly? He could just use my throat to get off and not even touch me at all, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he doesn’t pay me to enjoy having sex with him. He pays me so he can cum inside or on me. So… why did he feel the need to mention my pleasure like that?

Is he also having second thoughts about this whole prostitution-thing?

Maybe I’m also the first harlot he’s seeing. What a funny thought. Maybe we’re just the same. It wouldn’t be so implausible, since his touches were so unsure at first, I almost felt like laughing. Shy in a whore house. Pfft.

I liked Charisma. He was a good customer to have.

I could just think of him as my fuck buddy to ease my guilty conscience, and if I would only see him, and he would hire me at least once a month, I wouldn’t have to fuck any sleazy guys. I could keep my dignity – in some way, anyway. This felt like cognitive dissonance, but it helped me not beat myself up over having a different guy pay me every week to endure him fucking me.

At least I enjoyed it with Charisma.

Yes. Okay.

---

FLAME – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Charisma, I really appreciate you booking me again. :) I’m quite happy, actually, to know you’ve enjoyed our last time together. Of course, I’m going to take care of you and hold onto you for the whole night. ;)

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: I don’t enjoy pain, but you can slap my ass (please?), and even my face – not too hard! – if you’re into that, if you make sure you won’t leave any marks.

CONDOM / NO CONDOM: no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: My gag reflex is not so bad, but it might take some time to get used to you. Please take it slowly at first. If I can’t take it or need a break, I will tap on you three times.

---

Saturday came by quickly, and I was pacing back and forth around the dark room while waiting for Charisma. It was funny, really, not ever seeing how this room looks like in the light, but they’ve informed me when I first came here that the lights in the ‘bedroom’ stay off all the time to prevent any accidents from happening. Only the hallway is illuminated, and that light turns off automatically as well as soon as you press on the bedroom’s handle.

When I arrive here, the bedroom door is already open, so I have to walk into the room and shut the door behind me, which is when the mechanism starts working. The client then comes in the hallway, opens the bedroom door, and all lights in the whole place turn off. When the time is up, we hear a small bell sound, and I have to exit the room back into the hallway and close the door behind me.

The door locks automatically and the light turns on, and there is a clean white bathrobe waiting for me on the small shelf in the hallway. I must dress myself in it, then leave to another room on another floor, so that my client has the same privacy as I do. In that other room I can shower and chill out while a staff member brings me my clothes, previously discarded on the floor.

Now back on what happens to the client after I leave. The bedroom door would get unlocked, and he would have to go into the bathroom and clean up as well. While he does that, the staff member quickly collects all our clothes, and they leave the client’s on the small shelf in the hallway, and they bring mine, as I said.

Neither of us meets the staff members face to face. We sometimes hear them rummaging around, but we’ve already been instructed on the app prior to the meeting that we have to pretend they’re not there, and not try to meet them at all. Their identities are private. They have the same right to privacy as we do.

My clothes are brought to me in the hallway of my new room while I sit on the bed and watch TV or eat and drink stuff from the mini bar, but only after my client has left the building for a long time. Last time it took about 1 hour for my clothes to be brought to me, and I spent that time glancing around the room at the ugly yellow wallpaper with gaudy flowers on it, and the boring brown furniture. I wondered if the room Charisma and I used looked as disappointing as this one.

At least everything was clean.

-

I don’t know how long I waited for Charisma. Probably 20-something minutes, as I got here way earlier than I should’ve. I sat on the bed for the first many minutes, but I got bored and sleepy, being surrounded by complete darkness, so I decided to get up and just walk around the room, see if my hands recognise any décor from the room I did see.

My heels were getting uncomfortable, and I don’t know why I decided to wear them. I could’ve worn sneakers. My stupid brain just thought in a leap of judgment that this slutty short skirt I was wearing, that left virtually nothing to the imagination, fit way better with a pair of high heels. Both were black, but of course, I was the only one who had that information. The staff member that would have to pick them and my soaked wet panties from the floor and bring them to me would have it as well, in about four hours from now.

When the door finally opened, Charisma’s scent invaded my nostrils, just like last time. The perfume he used must’ve been expensive, but I didn’t recognise it.

Instead of waiting patiently for him to figure out where I am, like I did last time, I decided to be bolder and headed towards him directly. My eyes were already adjusted to the darkness in the room enough to be able to see shapes. Of course, there was no visible source of light, but it wasn’t pitch black either, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to notice where Charisma was.

He was a tall man with a nice build, and he frankly turned me on, thankfully.

When I got in front of him, he stopped moving, aware of my presence, and I pressed my hands on his face. If he were my date, or at least my hook-up or one night stand, I would’ve kissed him, but I knew better.

I knew he didn’t want it. Why did I want it? It made no sense.

I would’ve done it, though.

I would’ve raised on my tiptoes, even on these uncomfortable high heels, and I would’ve smiled at him and told him a small ‘hi’, and then I would’ve pressed my lips against his, and I would’ve let him stick his tongue down my throat and kiss me over and over while our hands would erratically grab each other’s bodies, for both of us were full of desire and wanted to feel a little bit closer.

But my contract doesn’t allow me to talk, and he doesn’t allow me to kiss him, and I don’t know why these thoughts even went through my head, because what genuine desire could there possibly be between a customer and his whore, besides purely sexual tension for a release?

He held my hands with his, that were still on his face, and he grabbed my right palm, letting my fingers brush over his lips so lightly, a feather must’ve felt heavier. Then, he pressed a gentle kiss on my fingertips, and my heart started beating faster, irregularly, uncontrolled.

He pulled my body into a hug and caressed the back of my hair as if he would’ve said ‘I missed you’, as if I were his lover, and I embraced him back, as confused as I was, feeling my head get lighter as I felt deprived of oxygen. He took all of it out of my lungs with such simple gestures.

When we separated, I started roaming his body with my hands, taking off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. We let all those useless garments fall down and I started kissing his neck and chest, biting his skin slightly, his small moans every time my lips touched his body turning me on way too much for him to just be a client that pays me to have sex with him. Who knew this could be so enjoyable to me?

Since I was meeting him for the second time, I already knew my way around his body, his firm muscles, where I needed to touch to make him squirm under my fingers. He was burning hot and he smelled good, and all my senses were intoxicated and full of him, so it was too easy to fall on my knees and unbuckle his belt, to take his already hard dick in my mouth.

Did I excite him that much for him to already be hard after just a few love bites on his chest and stomach?

As soon as my mouth made contact with his member, he let out a small groan. I wondered if his head was rolled back, if his eyes were closed, if he wanted to watch me suck his dick. If we would’ve seen each other and he would’ve looked at me, would’ve I looked right in his eyes to watch him become fucked up with the pleasure I’m causing?

What colour were his eyes? Brown? Green? Black?

I worked his dick down my throat to the best of my abilities, painfully aware of his written request of fucking it tonight. I wasn’t necessarily good at deep throats, but with enough ‘training’ and patience, I think I would be able to take a good fucking, even if it would leave my throat sore the next day.

Charisma was thankfully patient, for now at least. He let me suck him off the way I wanted to, his small moans would compliment me and encourage me to keep going, and his large hand on the top of my head was there just to caress me, not to push me or hasten me in any way.

He showered beforehand; much to my delight, he tasted good, and he was well groomed. This, combined with the fact that his body was sculped by some Greek God, made me wonder why he came to see a prostitute in the first place. It shouldn’t have been difficult to get any dates.

Maybe he’s ugly.

The thought sounded wrong in my head. Somehow, I didn’t even want to imagine this a possibility, for it was simply impossible for Charisma, who treated me so gently, who smelled so good and was so tidy, who certainly spent years in the gym to train this perfect body under my fingertips, to not be good looking.

Maybe he looks like that dad of the new girl in my class. He is handsome enough, and they seem to be of similar heights anyway.

A dangerous thought came through my head, but I tried to get rid of it as soon as it came.

Use Choi Minho as a visual representation of Charisma. He’s hot and handsome, and they’re the same height.

Of course, doing this to my mental health wasn’t a good idea. Charisma was Charisma, a faceless man I enjoyed fucking whenever he wanted to meet me.

I should never navigate on that territory of imagining him to be someone I know in real life that I see every day while he drops off and picks up his daughter from school. He’s probably married anyway, and I’m not a homewrecker. Not intentionally, at least. Charisma might be married too, but I didn’t feel any rings on his fingers last time we met. Of course, men are men, and he could’ve just taken it off, but even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t have mattered, because he was paying me for the few hours spent together, and I couldn’t get out of the agreement anyway.

I continued sucking Charisma off, and I started getting used to the pressure down my throat. Even if I was choking a bit on my saliva that was now uncontrollably smearing my face and falling on my clothes and probably on the floor, the feeling in my neck wasn’t that unpleasant, and I was glad that I didn’t feel like throwing up.

Charisma must’ve felt it too, because he grabbed my face and pulled away, then helped me stand up. He used his hands to clean up my chin, then helped me towards the bed. I laid down, my head on the edge of the mattress, as he aligned his dick with my mouth.

I opened wide, but he hesitated for a bit.

Is this okay? Is what his hesitation made me think he wanted to ask, if he were allowed to talk. Of course, he signed the same forms as me, so we weren’t allowed to utter any more than desperate sobs, moans, grunts and whines, but that’s what it felt like he was asking, so I placed my hands on the back of his now naked thighs and pulled him towards me.

He pushed his dick in my mouth, and I took it in fully, and he stayed there, balls deep, for a few seconds, taking my breath away. Then, he pulled out and I caught my breath. He didn’t leave me too many seconds to do so, as he entered my mouth again and started keeping a steady pace of fucking my throat deep and quick while holding my neck with his right hand. He squeezed and I felt myself become a bit too deprived of oxygen, and while it made my head dizzy, it also gave me euphoria, so I found myself moving my own hand towards my pussy and starting to rub it slowly through my underwear, while Charisma was using my throat as his personal fleshlight.

I was becoming sensitive and felt myself wanting to cum, but my head got so dizzy, I was focusing hard to keep myself present in the moment and not faint from the lack of air in my lungs. I stopped rubbing myself and raised my hand to cover Charisma’s on my neck, as I was almost at my limit and didn’t think I could take it anymore.

I held onto his hand for a while, and he stopped squeezing my neck and held me back as his pace started becoming sloppy, and I knew he was close. He moved his other hand on my left breast, groping it and squeezing it through my blouse and bra.

I shut my eyes tight and fought the urge to tap his hand three times to make him stop, decided to only do so if I really couldn’t take it anymore.

However, there was no need for me to do so, because he came down my throat soon after I held his hand, with a loud grunt that sounded heavenly to my ears, and he removed his dick from my mouth, proceeding to probably kneel down and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

If I were his date, and not a mere whore, would’ve he kissed my lips instead?

I took the next few minutes to recover from the intense face-fucking I’ve experienced and let the air slowly make its way back in my lungs, while Charisma grabbed a bed sheet or some other fabric and wiped my face clean with one hand and touching my hair soothingly with his other.

You did a good job. That’s what his touches felt like, and I felt cared for.

After a couple minutes of breathing in and out, I grabbed Charisma’s arm and pulled him towards me, letting him know that I’m ready for whatever he wants us to do next.

He started by pulling me up to sit on my ass so he can take off my blouse and bra with ease, then he palmed my breasts and kissed spots on my neck and collarbones while pinching my nipples softly.

I let a soft whine escape, and he made his way down, riling my skirt up and only removing my panties. He pushed my legs open, and I became aware of how wet I was. He ate me out last time we met as well, and I tried to focus on how good his tongue felt on my clit, and not on the fact that he must’ve considered my lips to be dirtier than my pussy; otherwise, why wouldn’t he want to kiss me?

His tongue moved carefully between my folds. He was experimenting each spot that made me moan, he teased my entrance before moving back to my clit and sucking on it ever so gently, and he seemed to relish on all the sounds I was making, for he let out some small moans as well every time I would clench around nothing.

Two of his fingers brushed my lips and I opened up my mouth again for him to stick them down my throat, covering them in saliva, just so that he could move them against my entrance and explore my insides with them, as if they wouldn’t have slid easily enough with how wet he made me, anyway.

He continued licking up my clit while his fingers curved mercilessly inside of me, grazing the sweet spot inside, driving me over the edge and bringing me to what was probably the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced in my life.

He continued licking me and fucking me with his fingers, and the pleasure started becoming overwhelming, even painful, so I put my hands in his hair and grabbed it as hard as I could, making him move away from me.

He kissed my thighs while I moaned and moaned, trying to get back from my high, then he kissed my lower stomach and made his way up on my body, as if he wanted to kiss me everywhere, to not leave any patch of skin untouched.

Once he was completely on top of me, his dick brushed against my pussy, and I felt how hard he became once again. He kissed the crook of my neck as he pressed his dick inside, and I let out a loud whine, as he didn’t leave me any chance to get used to him inside of me. He started thrusting strongly, earning a loud moan each time he would bottom out inside of me, and I let my head roll down, falling out of the mattress while he was buried in my neck, biting it and sucking on it while fucking me hard.

I felt my second orgasm creep in, and I came loudly, unable to control any sounds coming out of my mouth. Hearing me, Charisma grunted and soon enough I felt his warm release inside of me as well.

He collapsed on top of me, and we just breathed for a little while, together, synchronised, letting our chests rise and fall and touch, our faced hovering mere centimetres away, his lips so closed to mine, his breath against mine so warm. It would’ve been so easy to cross a line, but he specifically asked to not be kissed, and I really wanted to see him again, to have him fill me up and take care of my body’s needs.

Eventually, Charisma moved away from on top of me and guided me in a normal position on the bed, head on his shoulder similar to last time, and started caressing my hair slowly, kissing my forehead, slowly dragging his fingers on my arm, making my skin get goosebumps.

I enjoyed staying like this with him so much, even more than the sex. It felt like we were close, and I let my right hand feel his heartbeat against his chest, and I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The bell sound painfully woke me up from my slumber, indicating that our four hours were over. Reluctantly, I got up from Charisma’s shoulder and sighed, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down, hugging me tightly, before releasing me.

I didn’t want to overthink it too much. He must’ve just been grateful I let him cum down my throat and in my pussy. That’s all.

I made my way out of the room and closed the door behind me, which obviously locked, and the light turned on.

I grabbed the white bathrobe hanging on the shelf in the hallway and went out, heading towards my new room I had to use until Charisma completely left the building.

Once inside the new room, I went straight to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror while taking off the robe. My whole skin was stained with purple marks going from my neck to my breasts and my abdomen, and I traced each of them with my fingers, until I reached the hem of my skirt.

I was still wearing it. Charisma didn’t take it off this time, for some reason.

Seeing myself like that, naked, in only that damn short slutty skirt, covered in love bites, my hair and make-up a mess, and knowing I’ve just been covered in saliva and snot hours prior by some strange man I was meeting for money for the second time already, I really felt like a dirty whore.

Looking in the bathroom mirror was a rude awakening to this fact, and no matter how much I wanted to trick myself into thinking that Charisma’s nice gestures were genuine attraction towards me, my dishevel hair and this short skirt brought me back to Earth.

I was nothing special. I was just a whore.

A nobody.

Dirt.

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Charisma

Rate Flame from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Were all your special requirements fulfilled? (Leave empty if not applicable): Thank you for everything, Flame. I felt amazing. Tonight has fulfilled so many of my fantasies. Let’s do it again sometime.

What did you enjoy? -

What should be improved? -

Would you like to tip Flame? (Any amount you write will automatically be deducted from your Card after submitting this form. Leave empty if you don’t wish to tip your host): 300$

Thank you for using our service!

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Flame

Rate the interaction with the customer from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Did the customer fulfil your special requirements? -

Tip received – 300$: Thank you once again for the tip, Charisma, and I’m glad to learn that you felt good tonight. I loved sucking you off, and you can fuck my throat anytime. We definitely have to do it again and let me know if there’s any other fantasies you want fulfilled. I’d be glad to be the one to fulfil them for you xx❤️

---

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

[pokidot]

KILL BILL - eight

warnings: swearing, lots of arguing, tension wc: 1,358

"Come on, guys..." Kazuha urged desperately in a heavy whisper towards the two frustrated, and very difficult, other co-members in the group. "We can get caught here!"

As they snuck into the venue through one of the opened back doors, the tension was palpable. Kazuha had been checking behind him to make sure the others were there with him the entire time, feeling the imminent stress wrack his body and play it like a fiddle. Even with his straight-laced attitude, he could admit that there was a certain rush he both liked and disliked.

Though the dislike peaked it's head ruthlessly as soon as Kuni stopped, disfavor etched on his face like an itch he was forever scratching. Xiao however, remained impartial as always, eyebrows raising. "Are you going to actually be useful in the next five minutes?"

Kuni's lips pressed into a thin line, his head slowly turning towards Xiao. "Are you going to kiss my ass in the next five minutes?"

Xiao's expression remained, looking away as his tone formed into moderate disgust. "I'll never get paid enough."

"Ha, do we even get paid at this point? Last month, my rent was my entire salary." Heizou chuckled, remaining eye contact with people who walk past to scout on whether they were security, "Which is, really, a commentary on how you shouldn't live in Inazuma."

"Or maybe it's because you spend the rest of your paycheck on board games and animal crackers..." Kazuha sighed out. "We're wasting time..."

Aether was silently wondering what board games Heizou's been buying.

"I'm glad I'm wasting everybody's time here, actually. You know why? Because this is absolutely ridiculous." Kuni's teeth grind together in mirth.

"As you've mentioned for the past..." Xiao checked his watch, "Ten minutes we've taken getting here?"

"Speaking of ten minutes, wow," Aether breathed a soft sigh of exhaustion, his hands pressed on his knees as his back arched. "I never thought this company was huge enough to take more than two."

"Ten minutes I'll never get back again!" Kuni scoffed. "It's so stupid, you guys are so predictable; I know exactly why you all want to see the audition so badly."

"Hey, man, shush...what if they hear us?" Heizou warned, but Kuni feigned ignorance to his words intentionally.

"That freak is coming to it, are they? Did you forewarn Aether and Heizou about this before you started diving head first into oncoming traffic?" His words almost rumbled in his throat with rage, his intense, violet eyes poured into Xiao's. "'Course you didn't, because this was for your own gain. And we got pulled along into it."

"I know you feel threatened by people’s presence, so you have to overcompensate what you feel you deserve so you don’t get stepped on, but not everybody is out to get you. That's something you should keep in mind the next time you try to overstep your boundaries." Xiao hissed.

“Aw, did I hit a nerve?” Kuni said with a sickly sweet bitterness, chilling his throat like it was refreshing to be this infuriating. “It’s okay, you’ll live. Unlike others.”

“Was that really necessary?” Kazuha’s voice was thin with patience.

"Wait, really?" Heizou stopped, eyeing the rest of the group, but he looked more and more impressed the longer he thought about it. "They're auditioning? In their circumstance?"

"So that's who Voldemort was!" Aether's eyes lit up in final revelation. "I was starting to believe that we were talking about the actual one the more you guys were stalling about it. Scary stuff, my biggest fear is seeing a guy without a nose."

"It's definitely not what you think is going to happen." Xiao, above all the members who were hesitant, gave his co-member an equally as clipped stare. "We're not here to encourage them."

"Are you sure?" Kuni's tone was laced with attitude, his head moving with his words as his crossed arms relaxed against his sides. "In that case, I can do ten times of a better job than all of you in that accord. You're really shit at coercing."

"Are you done? This bit is stale now." Xiao said.

"You know what's actually stale, Xiao? Huh?" Kuni gave him kind eyes as soon as a group of younger auditioners walked past, and it was gone again. "Your bit. You and Kazuha are hoping just a tiiiny bit that this little sibling of his will probably be another version of him. It's so painful to watch that it's hilarious."

"That's not true, Kunikuzushi." Kazuha muttered through gritted teeth. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be here trying to take them out."

"But do you really want to take them out of the audition? Is that why we're here? Or is it to test them more?" Kuni found obvious amusement as soon as Kazuha visibly started to look frustrated.

"I'm sure they just want the best for Venti's sibling, Kunes, don't be like that-" Heizou tried to intervene, but his eyes widened as soon as Kazuha shook his head at him. The red haired man sighed, growing equally as agitated as Xiao was.

"There are no tests. They don't belong here with us." Xiao's nostrils flared. "If anything, you should be agreeing. You've had your fair share of mistreatment just relocating here in the first place. Or did you forget?"

"I'm glad you're trying to hit where it hurts. That just proves that I'm right." Kuni however, didn't seem to back down as he walked closer to Xiao, and his voice only became lower with bane infused. "You want to keep bothering his sibling because you can't fill the hole that he left behind without crumbling. So just say that."

Xiao could feel the tension building inside him, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. The anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. It was a sensation he knew all too well anyway, but that didn't make it any easier to control. He tried to take a deep breath, to calm his personal uncomfortable state, and slow his racing thoughts. The emotions that were too raw to even fathom correctly, to even express, too powerful to exist to him.

"You guys go watch. I refuse to let someone dictate what I feel about something, especially when that someone is a traitor." Xiao could feel his muscles tensing, his fists clenching. The urge to break through the constraints of his own body, was almost overwhelming. "I'm here to do what I intended. That's all."

Kazuha shot his head over at Xiao, his eyes begging him to stay with the group, but it wasn't enough to phase him. And at this point, the crimson-eyed male wore weak trying. "You'll be alright?"

"Probably not." He replied without missing a beat. His voice drops slightly as an expression almost of melancholy flits across his face, acknowledging the steely resolve once more. His feet picking up towards one of the rooms once he ensured his face mask was on.

Kuni narrows his eyes watching him, patience wearing thin. "Talk to me when you guys actually wise up. I'm going to the auditorium." His voice is soft, but it is clear he is making an effort to keep it that way. There is a hint of anger in the set of his jaw as well as he heads off.

The sounds of people practicing and warming up drifted through the air after that. The other hopefuls bustled about, nervously checking and re-checking their instruments and outfits. Since this audition wasn't as global as the previous they've had, the auditioners were required to be changed by stylists, put on makeup, and have their hair fixed while they wait for their chance to shine among the rest.

The people who were rushing around were practically buzzing with anticipation as they made their way through the backstage area quietly. But for the rest of the group, it was hard for them to unfreeze themselves from the emotional strain that was pushed on them after Xiao and Kuni left them.

"Hey...maybe we should do the same." Heizou patted Kazuha's shoulder, who remained quiet as he nodded.

"Yeah, let's get a move on..." Aether made an attempt to burn through the sickly mark Kuni left them with. "I don't know why they have landscapers out so late at night, but they were staring at me while they were trimming the bushes."

"Is that an innuendo?" Heizou asked.

Aether blinked. "...Who's in the window?" His expression adrift and entirely lost. His aureate eyes narrowed towards one of the above casements in suspicion.

"...Nevermind."

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES || lol... (crickets sounding off in the background) it's 1 am

TAGLIST IS OPEN! || @akagism2 @duckyyyx @ilocqua @dreamsofminnie @youngestdelacour @natsuscrustyscarf @lovely028 @akxmee @theblueblub @hutaomarryme @vanitasbrainrot @hydration-is-for-weenies @kkazuyass @dazaiscum @aaeng121 @sakurapeach @starsxnight @xirthia @kitsunesrepose @dollpoetwriting @mitskyuuu @gojoandelsalovechilde (if your name is in green, for some reason i can't tag you)

[all-the-things-2020]

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Tala Pavan)

Rating: PG-13. This is a soft, slow-burn romance. If things get spicy, I will change the rating.

Notes: Set post-season 3 and canon compliant for the most part. The title comes from a J.R.R. Tolkien quote: “Deeds will not be less valiant because they are unpraised.”

CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Tala Pavan is a newcomer to Nevarro. She meets an unusual father-son duo and soon becomes involved in their lives.

Nevarro was not as bad as many had led Tala Pavan to believe. True, there had been that recent business with the pirates, but as her new neighbors told her (at length) that issue had been taken care of by a passel of displaced Mandalorians, and there was still one of them living just outside of town.

“He’s a personal friend of the High Magistrate,” Anida told her. “So if we ever need them Mandalorians again, Karga just has to give the word and they’ll be here.”

Anida’s husband, Crik, nodded sagely. “Also got ties to the New Republic Rangers, so I’ve heard. So Nevarro is covered either way the wind blows.” He lowered his voice. “And he’s in tight with some crime boss on Tatooine, too. Fingers in lots of pies, that one.”

Tala dismissed the conversation as the usual town gossip. After all, she’d already been informed about who was stepping out on who, which children had dubious parentage, who was gambling away their paycheck, and which droids were most likely to malfunction and should not be hired. Rumors about a Mandalorian warrior who lived on the outskirts were just part of the charm of life on Nevarro. Like the repurposed assassin droid who served as Marshall. Nowhere else like it in the galaxy was the byword in Nevarro. Civil enough for the law-abiding, liberal enough for those wanting to make money, rough enough for those who lived on the edge of respectable, but always welcoming to those who were willing to live and let live. And pay their taxes.

Tala had seen High Magistrate Greef Karga a few times, greeting the citizens in his magnificent robes. He didn’t lock himself away like many in power; he was a hands-on type of leader, and seemed friendly. Tala hadn’t spoken to him, of course. She was just another cog in the town’s machinery, no one important, which was how she liked it. She was content to live quietly with her pet tooka, Neeli. Quiet was nice.

Her days were simple. Rise in the morning, feed herself and Neeli, walk to work, come home, eat again, shower, snuggle with Neeli while reading a book and then to bed. A gentle routine, broken only by her two days off which were occupied with house cleaning, shopping and other chores. Until the day she met Grogu.

She was food shopping, her basket halfway full, when she heard a clattering commotion from one of the stalls nearby. A frustrated whine, a sharp “No,” followed by something she hadn’t felt in ages. A thought-voice.

:Want the blue one!:

She spun, seeking the source of the voice, so insistent in her mind. A tall, silver-clad Mandalorian warrior stood, arms crossed, in front of the stall, where a tiny green creature on the counter defiantly faced off against him. :Dad, want the blue one:

“He wants the blue one,” Tala said, without thinking.

The Mandalorian’s helmet swiveled in her direction. “What?” His voice was modulated, low and raspy, but not unkind.

“He wants the blue one,” she repeated. 

“I know he wants one,” the Mandalorian said, a note of exasperation in his tone. “But I said no.” He tilted his head in the creature’s direction and its ears flattened in sorrow.

:I tried: she sent.

The creature’s ears perked up and its eyes went wide. :You hear me?:

:Yes:

“Wait, are you talking to him?” The Mandalorian’s hand slid imperceptibly toward his blaster. “Are you … Jedi?”

Tala snorted. “Hardly. And yes, I am talking to him. In a way.” She didn’t like to broadcast her abilities to the galaxy. “Can we discuss this somewhere else?”

:Grogu. I am Grogu: Images filled Tala’s mind, a confusing jumble of dark hallways, desert landscapes, a cool green forest, several spaceships and a … rancor?

“Pleased to meet you, Grogu,” she said aloud. “I’m Tala.”

“Din Djarin,” the Mandalorian said. “Come on, kid, let’s find somewhere private to talk to the lady.”

Grogu jumped gracefully off the counter and toddled ahead, his mind buzzing with excitement. Tala could feel it, but not really read it, which was just as well. She reinforced her mental shields and followed him.

“Explain,” Djarin said when they were seated on a shady bench. Grogu began to inspect the contents of Tala’s basket.

“I’m not Jedi,” she began. “I guess Force-sensitive would be the best label to put on it. A lot of people are, where I come from. We’re telepathic, nothing more. And don’t worry — I can only ‘hear’ other telepaths. Like him.” She gestured toward Grogu, who was humming happily as he peeled a citrus fruit.

“Hey,” Djarin said. “That’s not yours.”

Grogu looked innocently at them both and then offered a segment to her. :I share:

Tala stifled a laugh. “He said he’s sharing,” she said as she took the slightly squished piece of fruit.

“You can’t share something that doesn’t belong to you,” Djarin said firmly. “Give it back.”

Grogu’s ears drooped, but he held out the rest of the fruit. 

“It’s okay, you can have it, I have plenty,” Tala said. Immediately, the ears went back up and Grogu began stuffing fruit into his mouth.

Djarin shook his helmet. “He won’t learn if you give in to him. I know he’s cute, but he’s also manipulative.”

Grogu paused in his munching to make a phfft sound. 

“And rude,” Djarin said. “That is not behavior becoming of a Mandalorian apprentice.”

Grogu shrugged and continued to eat.

“So,” Tala said. “What’s your story? The kid called you Dad, but you’re clearly not biologically related.”

Djarin was very still for a moment. “He called me Dad?” It was hard to tell with the vocoder in the helmet, but he sounded a little choked up. Tala nodded and Djarin cleared his throat. “He is a Foundling. I have adopted him as my own so that he can train as a Mandalorian. He is my apprentice … and my son.”

“And he just happens to be telepathic.”

“He … was raised to be a Jedi, long before I met him,” Djarin said. “He chose not to follow that path anymore. He chose to follow the Way of the Mand’alor.”

Grogu dropped the sticky citrus peel and tugged at the collar of his robe, revealing the bright gleam of silver armor. “They make armor that small?” Tala asked. Grogu sent her an image of a Mandalorian woman, her horned helmet gleaming in the darkness as she pulled molten metal from a roaring forge and beat it with her hammer. 

“It was made by the Armorer,” Djarin said, with respect in his voice. “From pure beskar, like my own armor.”

“And Mandalorians typically make armor for their toddlers?”

Djarin stiffened. “Grogu is over fifty years old. I know he appears very young, but … he is more than he seems.”

“Obviously.” Tala looked into Grogu’s eyes. Mischief, yes, and childhood wonder, but also a solemn wisdom and a sense of deep, unfathomable power. She shivered. 

“We understand each other,” Djarin went on, “but sometimes it’s hard. He can't — or won’t — speak yet. I don’t know enough about his species. Maybe he’s too young, or maybe he’s just stubborn.”

Grogu made an offended noise. :Not stubborn: he sulked.

Tala bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I suspect it’s more of a developmental thing,” she said diplomatically. “He definitely understands Standard, and he thinks in it, more or less, so I’d say he's just not physically ready to speak.” She shrugged. “I used to know a linguist. Guess some of it rubbed off on me.” 

Grogu reached out and laid his hand on her arm. She felt a sense of compassion from the child, a gentle probing from his mind. :Miss him?:

:Yes: she replied. :All the time: There were so many people she missed, but losing Rix had hurt the most.

Djarin shifted slightly, bringing her back to the present. “You seem to have a connection with him,” he said softly. “Maybe you can help me understand him better. I would, of course, compensate you for your time.”

“There’s no need to pay me to converse with this little guy,” Tala said. “To be honest, I could use the practice, flexing my mental muscles, so to speak. It’s been a long time since I’ve had another telepath in my life. I’d be happy to spend some time with him. I’m off work on Taungsday and Benduday.”

Djarin nodded. “Benduday is good for us. We’re usually in town then. I have a weekly meeting with Greef. Maybe … you could babysit?” He sighed. “Grogu gets bored easily and while Greef is very fond of him …”

“He gets into trouble,” Tala said, winking at Grogu, who was doing his best to look completely innocent. “I’d be happy to. As long as Grogu promises to behave better for me.”

:Always behave!: Grogu was indignant, but there was a glint in his eye that betrayed the truth.

“Agreed,” Djarin said. “We’ll meet here, in the marketplace, next week, say at eleven o’clock? My meeting with Greef is at noon.”

“I look forward to it.” She held out her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Djarin shook. His gloved hand was large and very strong. He was clearly a formidable warrior, yet he was surprisingly gentle as he picked up Grogu and carried him away. The child waved goodbye over his shoulder with one hand, then popped a berry into his mouth with the other. Tala glanced at her basket. Yes, her box of redberries was missing a few off the top. 

:Thief: she sent, shaking her head at him.

:Sharing: Grogu replied, one ear up and one ear flopped down. Like a wink.

*******************************************************

Din could tell Grogu was excited. He kept bouncing around in his carry bag, making inquiring noises that could only mean “Are we there yet?” The child was clearly looking forward to spending time with their new friend Tala. 

“It must be nice to have someone who can really understand you,” Din said quietly.

Grogu pricked up his ears and made an affirmative sound. 

“You have to behave for her.”

Grogu’s ears lowered slightly and he made a grumpy sound.

“I mean it. If you’re too much trouble,she won’t want to watch you and then you’ll have to sit quietly in Greef’s office while we talk.”

The ears went lower. “Patu.”

Din patted the child’s head. “I know you’ll be good, kid. I just wanted to remind you what could happen if you aren’t.”

Grogu nodded firmly, then reached up and took hold of Din’s gloved finger. His tiny hands were surprisingly strong. He squeezed tightly.

“Yeah, I love you, too,” Din said softly. “Little womp rat.”

When they reached the marketplace, Grogu Force-leapt his way out of the bag and into Tala’s arms.

“My goodness!,” she said, barely able to catch him in time. “Someone’s excited to see me.”

Din dug a handful of credits out of his pouch. “Here. In case he gets hungry. I may not be paying you to watch him, but I can’t expect you to feed him, too. Kid’s a bottomless pit.”

Grogu narrowed his eyes. Tala laughed. “He says he’s a growing boy.”

“Must have heard that from Greef,” Din said. The kid was smart. Too smart, sometimes. “And he ate three frogs this morning, so he should be full. For the moment.”

Tala pocketed the credits. “Thanks.” She looked a bit different than she had last week. It took Din a moment to realize that her hair was in a more elaborate style. Had she really gone to that much trouble just for Grogu? More likely she wanted to make a good impression her first day on the job. But it wasn’t really a job, since he wasn’t paying her. He stifled a sigh. Women had always been a bit confusing to him.

“If we aren’t in the marketplace when you finish your meeting, we’ll be at my place,” she was saying. She handed him a chip with an address neatly inscribed on it. “I thought some privacy for our conversation might be prudent.”

Din nodded. She had thought things out. A good strategist. “A wise choice.” He laid his hand on Grogu’s head. “Be good, kid. I’ll see you later.”

Grogu waved and babbled something that could have been “Bye-bye” if you squinted hard enough. Maybe Tala was right about his not being physically ready to speak aloud. He was clearly trying, but the sounds weren’t cooperating.

With one last glance at his son, Din turned his attention to his meeting with Greef. He wondered what new scheme his friend had come up with to increase the wealth and prosperity of Nevarro — and his own pockets.

***********************************************

:Kitty!: Grogu sprang from Tala’s arms and made a beeline for Neeli. The tooka arched her back and puffed her tail.

“Careful,” Tala cautioned. “She has to get to know you first. Be gentle and she’ll warm up to you quickly.”

Grogu plopped down on the floor, one hand held out, gently crooning. :Nice kitty. Soft kitty.:

“Her name is Neeli,” Tala said, sitting beside Grogu. “Can you say Neeli?”

:Neeli:

“No, I mean out loud.”

Grogu tilted his head. “Nee,” he managed after a moment’s concentration.

:Excellent!: Tala sent to him. Neeli slunk into her lap, never taking her eyes off of Grogu. Tala stroked the tooka’s fur, which was in need of a good brushing. :Can you fetch me that brush on the shelf?: 

Grogu held out one hand and the brush floated from the shelf into his hand. 

“Whoa,” she said. “You really do have powers, don’t you?”

:Jedi training: he thought smugly. :Like Mandalorian training better, though.:

:I’ll bet you do: Tala got a quick impression of a young man dressed in black urging Grogu to meditate, followed by a rush of excitement as Din flew a sleek starfighter through a firefight. 

She took the brush from him and began to groom Neeli, who closed her eyes and started to purr. Grogu tried to imitate the noise.

:Not growling: He tilted his head, one ear up.

:Purring. It means she’s happy, relaxed. She feels safe.:

:Me, too: Grogu leaned against her arm, a gentle purr rising from deep inside him. He gently reached out to touch Neeli’s fur. :I like you:

“I like you, too, kiddo,” Tala said. 

Mrrtt, said Neeli, which Tala knew meant “Keep brushing, human.” So she did.

**********************************************

Neeli warmed up to Grogu once she realized that he could make her toys hover in the air and skitter across the floor like live prey. Tala had to calm them both down a few times when the game got a little too rambunctious, but otherwise it kept them both busy and out of her hair. Neeli, like all felines, was prone to random bursts of energy, which Tala usually kept at bay with a game of fetch. With Grogu around, she could actually get a little housework done. 

Eventually, Neeli grew tired and climbed up to her basket on top of the shelving unit. When she saw Grogu calculating the jump himself, Tala stepped in. “She needs a nap. Tookas sleep a lot.”

Grogu pondered that for a moment, then nodded. :Naps are good. If you are sleepy. I’m not sleepy.:

:Then let’s figure out something to do, that won’t disturb Neeli.:

Grogu looked around the room. Not much to interest a child, Tala realized. Basic furniture, a few books — the tooka toys were the only brightly colored objects in sight. :Dad tells me things. And I help him.:

:What sorts of things? Stories?:

Grogu shrugged. :About Mandalorian things. Weapons. Ships. Sometimes stories.:

“I don’t know any Mandalorian stories,” Tala said, “but I can tell you some stories from the place I come from.”

Grogu hopped onto the small, worn sofa and snuggled up next to her. :Tell me.:

Tala was deep into the classic tale of Hanta and Greema, and how they left a trail of stones to help them find their way out of the haunted forest where the Witch-Creature who had stolen their father’s prized fathier lived in her castle made of bones, when the door chimed.

:Dad!: Grogu leaped off the sofa. Before the door was even open, he was chattering away, a hundred sounds tumbling from his lips as he tried to tell Djarin everything. :Neeli is taking a nap. She’s a tooka cat. I petted her! We’re having a story. The witch lives in BONES!:

“Looks like things went well,” Djarin said, after picking Grogu up and listening patiently to his babbling. 

“Very well,” Tala said. “He made friends with my tooka, Neeli, and wore her out, which is more than I can usually do. And just now, we were having story time.”

“Did he eat?” 

Grogu’s ears pricked up at that, and he grumbled. :Tummy is EMPTY.:

“We were too busy for that,” Tala admitted. She reached in her pocket for the credits. 

Djarin: held up his hand. “No, keep it for next week. I’ll get him something in the market on our way home. Maybe we’ll get some meiloorun. We haven’t haven’t had that in a while.”

Grogu shook his head. :Blue fruit. And namba patties.: He turned to Tala. :Tell him.:

“Um, he wants the blue fruits and namba patties,” she said.

“The blue fruit is too expensive,” Djarin said, “but we can get a namba patty. And a nice meiloorun for dessert.”

Grogu’s ears drooped a little. :Like the blue fruit better.:

Tala gave him a look. :Listen to your dad. He said it’s too expensive.: Grogu’s eyes narrowed.

Djarin chuckled, an incongruous sound coming from a fully armored man. “I recognize that look. You just scolded him, didn’t you?”

“I just told him to listen to you. I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries.”

“Grogu needs all the boundaries he can get,” Djarin replied. “And right now, we should respect yours and be on our way.”

Grogu grumbled, but didn’t protest too much as Djarin picked him up and settled him in his carry bag. “Say goodbye to Tala and the tooka,” Djarin prompted.

:Neeli: Grogu corrected as he waved his hand. “Baa.”

“Bye,” Tala replied. “You can drop him off here next week, if you want, instead of meeting in the marketplace. And I’ll buy a few snacks to have on hand.”

Djarin nodded, started to turn away and then stopped. “Are … are you sure you don’t want compensation for your time?”

Tala waved the thought away. “Paying for his snacks is more than enough,” she said. “I enjoyed having him here, and so did Neeli. In fact, he actually helped by keeping her busy so I could get some things done. But thanks for the offer, Mr. Djarin. I like that you value my time.”

His stance softened a bit. “Please, call me Din. Or Mando. I answer to either one.”

:Dad: Grogu chimed in. “Da.”

“Or Dad, apparently,” Tala said, nodding toward Grogu. 

Din stiffened, his head turning slightly away. “Yeah, well, I guess,” he said. He cleared his throat. “We’d better be going, kid. See you next week.” He walked quickly toward the door. Grogu shifted in his bag to wave at her again.

When the door closed behind them, Tala felt a wave of … something. She’d never minded being alone; in fact, in a community with a large percentage of telepaths, being alone was a rarity and always refreshing. And she had Neeli. It wasn’t loneliness. 

Envy, maybe? Grogu loved his adopted father, and the feeling was clearly mutual. She didn’t have to be able to hear Din’s thoughts to know that. Their relationship was so pure and innocent. They would never betray each other.

Or perhaps a bit of attraction? Din was honorable and courteous, big and strong but gentle at the same time. He was not flashy, despite his highly polished armor. It had been a very long time since she’d had … feelings. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like. 

Neeli jumped down from her perch and stretched extravagantly before rubbing against her legs. She picked up the tooka and carried her to the sofa. “I think I like them,” she said, gently stroking Neeli’s fur. “Both of them.”

[necromaniackat]

Cruel Summer

Chapter 1: So It Begins.

It was the morning you were leaving for Heelshire mansion to begin renovations. It was your dad’s dream to turn the mansion into a bed and breakfast. He said it’s seen enough tragedies for a lifetime, now it’s time for it to see community. Your dad told you that your grandparents would never allow it while alive. Your dad died when you were twelve. That was a brutal hit to you and your mum. Mainly because your dad was a handyman and the epitome of health, yet he dropped of a heart attack at thirty. Then your mum married Adam a couple years later.

This caused a sadness to settle in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t help but frown as you carried one your suitcases to your crappy little BMW. Hooked in your other arm was Brahms. Since you got the doll a couple days ago you haven’t paid any mind to the doll or the booklet of rules and regulations to follow when caring for Brahms. You were probably going to take it to an antique’s dealer at some point.

You put Brahms in the front seat and buckled him in. You didn’t want to send the doll flying if you slammed on the brakes. That’s at least a hundred pounds that you can put toward your next tattoo fund. Just as you closed the boot to your car a silver Audi pulled up behind you. You smiled when you realized it was your mum and stepdad. You stepped back around to the side of your car.

Your mum looked stunning in simple tie-dye summer dress and black flip-flops. Her bleached blonde hair was twisted up into a messy bun at the top of her head. Your mum always looked like a super model; she was a model at one point. That means growing up she was very much into healthy eating and exercising regularly. Just looking at you and your mum side by side, the regular person wouldn’t be able to tell you were mother daughter. You look more like your dad. You have his dark curly hair and his almost grey-blue eyes whereas your mum is a natural red head and has green eyes. You couldn’t get a tan to save your life, your mum looks like she’s mixed. You’re introverted but you become extraverted when you’re in your element which is usually by yourself while your mum was extraverted and couldn’t keep to herself to save her life. You were so unlike your mum. And sometimes that distance feels extra big.

“You alright, luv?” Your mum asked as she came up to you.

“Yeah, I was just putting my things in the car,” you replied with your hands on your hips.

“Do you have anymore upstairs?” Adam inquired with a smile.

“Of course. I always leave the heavy stuff for you,” you told him with an equally happy smile then tossed him the keys to lock up when he was done. Adam was the definition of golden retriever. He loves to be involved in your life. Which made the transition from mum’s boyfriend to stepdad all that much easier.

“I’ll go get the last of your stuff. You two…... –interact,” Adam said as he wandered up the path to your front door. You understood from his awkwardness your mum had some things to say to you that you’ll probably not like. But what else is new? Since your dad died you and your mum have had a rocky relationship.

You sighed and itched your brow.

“Listen, I know how you feel about them. I feel the same way. But this is a major opportunity for me. If this pans out, then I can quit my dead-end job. I can start living not just surviving paycheck to paycheck,” you argued before she could say anything.

“I don’t like it. That family is messed up, who knows what kinds of trouble you’ll get into because of them,” your mum posed a good point. The Heelshire side of your family are…...–different. Your great aunt was supposedly into the occult and witchcraft. There was a feud between her and your grandpa a long time ago that never got resolved.

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But I want to do this, for dad,” you told her honestly. If it weren’t for your dad’s dream you’d put it up for sale. And maybe you will. Your memory of Heelshire mansion was a bit fuzzy.

“Jesus have mercy, Evelyn,” she muttered in defeat. Your mum sighed heavily and looked away, peering into the car. Her eyebrows rutted together.

“What’s that?” She questioned, pointing to something in your car. You instantly knew she was talking about Brahms. Your mum has a deep hatred for that doll. After the real Brahms died your grandparents doted on this doll instead of their remaining son. Your dad had to spend his late teens and early adult years living in the shadow of a doll.

“Is that Brahms?!” Your mum exclaimed looking at you like you had done something wrong. You held your hands out in front of you in defense as you tried to gather your words.

“Evelyn Elizabeth,” your mum warned coldly.

“Okay, okay! It is Brahms but I’m taking him to an antique’s dealer next week. He’s not staying,” you explained as though your life depended on it. With how angry your mum looked; it could very well be.

Your mum placed her hands on her lower back and scoffed, shaking her head.

“You’re not following those stupid rules, are you?” She asked, trying to figure out if she should just smash the doll into pieces now or allow you to prove to her that your grandparents hadn’t brainwashed you.

“I haven’t even looked at the terms and conditions book,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. This earned a snort from your mum as she broke out in a fit of giggles. Little to your knowledge this is exactly how your mum reacted when your dad wanted to bring her home for a few days and he had to go over the rules.

“Okay, this is the last of it.” Your stepdad, Adam, declared as he came walking down the small path with your duffle bag of power tools and your last suitcase. You opened the car door so he could unload in your backseat next to the cat carrier with Bandit, your cat, inside. The door closed and Adam handed your keys back to you before bringing you into one of his ‘dad hugs’. They weren’t the same hugs you got from your dad; they were different. But over time Adam’s hugs became something of a comfort to you.

“If you run into any problems at all, call me and I will drive out to help sort it out,” Adam told you as you two broke away from each other. You smiled and gave him a sure nod, telling him you’d do just that. Something you’ve always loved about Adam is he’s willing to help with problems, not solve them but assist. It always gave you a chance to fix it and then to reach out for help if you needed it.

“I guess I should get going,” you murmured. Your mum pursed her lips then opened her arms for a hug. You obliged. Your mum’s arms tightened around you. You can’t remember the last time she hugged you like this. It brought both comfort and a hint of dread.

“Call me when you get there,” she said, pulling away from you. You forced a smile to reassure her as you opened the driver’s side door. Your very full lanyard jingled as you waved awkwardly. Your mum and Adam stood on the sidewalk waving at you. You wondered if this is what it would’ve been like if you decided to go to university like the rest of your peers. That thought left a sour taste in your mouth.

You gave your parents one final wave before hopping into your crappy BMW. You turned the key to bring the car to life before putting on your playlist to listen to on the drive. You never really grew out of your alt phase, at least now you have more refined tastes, so your playlist shows that. And just like that, you were on your way to Heelshire mansion.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

Man, you're so cool. I adore the way you ramble about Dr Who and ACGS, it makes me smile :) I hope your college financial situation gets sorted out soon! I'm so excited for you to be in a good place for you.

ohhhhh Robin, this is just the sweetest ask!!! thank you so much!!! I smiled so big when I opened tumblr during my lunchbreak today and saw this message ^-^ ^-^ ^-^ I'm so glad you get a smile out of my rambling!! sometimes I worry that it's annoying to people who might not know about the media it's based on, or that I should be thinking and talking about more relevant or meaningful things than stuff like DW and ACGAS... so it's really really nice to hear that's not the case, at least for you :) <3 <3

and thank you!! I'm hoping for the same!!! (and, fun fact, but I should have actually hit the halfway point for my projected savings goal today!! but since my boss forgot to put the hours for my paid vacation last week into the system, I got much much less money on my paycheck than I should've :') but it's all going to be ok, I've already spoken to him about it and he's going to submit the proper forms and get everything cleared up and the money I'm missing will get to me somehow. and when it does, it'll go straight into my college fund.)

(I'm putting the rest of this post under a break now, because I started typing and then accidentally vomited up a whole entire spiel about my complicated emotions towards college stuff, and no one wants that cluttering up their dash lolllll) (cw for emotional turmoil and general complaining/bellyaching/worrying/stressing about the future)

tbh, every time I talk about my college situation, I feel guilty. because when I step back and look at everything, I really am in such a sweet spot right now. I live at home with my family, which is (mostly) a fantastic situation--I get to eat my mom's cooking and hang out with my siblings all the time, which is great. I get to basically always bring my lunch to work (and it's usually leftovers of my mom's cooking) while my coworkers have to rush to buy something from a fast food place and swallow it down before our break is over. my family dynamic could be so much worse than it is. we attend a really sweet little church whose congregation has been so kind and welcoming to us (even if the style of the worship and teaching isn't quite what I'd like to find for myself someday). I have my own cosy little bedroom and all my books and my car and knitting and TV shows. I make seriously decent money for the kind of work I do, and most of it goes into savings for college while I have coworkers who can barely scrape by between rent and groceries and daycare bills and vehicle repairs. things aren't perfect, there are some pretty significant things I'd like to address (about myself and my brain and how it works, and some ideas about the world that I think got turned a little bit sideways at some point and need to be straightened out before they get too firmly cemented). I don't actually have any close friends who live near me (the nearest ones are at least 2 hours away and I rarely get to see them face-to-face). but honestly, I have it so good. I should be so content, I should be basking in the blessings I have right now.

yet I still complain about not being at college and talk about how badly I want to get there.

and as if all that wasn't enough, I'm petrified by the idea of things changing. I feel so weary and discouraged when I think about the idea of having to be brand-new in a brand-new place (again), not knowing anyone or how to do anything and constantly fearing that I'm messing it all up and I'm the only doofus who doesn't understand and there are all these secret common knowledge rules that everyone knows but me and if I admit to not knowing them I'll be labelled as an outcast but if I mess one of them up I'll be expelled from planet earth for having failed at humanity.

(and then also on some level, I'm terrified of moving on from the place I'm at right now, because things could be so much worse.)

I don't want to take what I have now for granted. I don't want to be unthankful for what I've been given. but I also can't be fully at peace here, because I just really really really am looking forward to the next thing. which of course makes me feel really guilty (and I tend to worry that when I do get to college, it'll all be terrible and I'll realize how wrong I was to want to hurry to that stage and my life will turn into one big Aesop's Fable and the Twilight Zone guy will appear to announce the moral of the story to everyone so they can use me as an object lesson to their Sunday school classes).

and of course, none of this makes sense and it's all one big jumbled ball of weird emotions and fears and dreams and I'm doing my best to ignore it and pray that God will just lead me where I need to go and not let me get distracted by silly things that will drag me off-course or waste my time along the way. which I guess is all I can do. but it sure doesn't come easily to me.

anyway, you didn't ask about any of that, but it just sorta... all fell out when I started typing :') I am excited to go to college, especially the college I plan to attend. it's my dream college, and I went from thinking I'd never be able to attend there to seriously planning to move into the dorms next fall. I think I'll learn so much there, and I'll meet other people--both mentors and peers--who will both affirm and influence me in meaningful ways. I can't wait to see how God uses all of this to write a grander story for me than any I could ever imagine!! but I do worry so much about pretty much everything, so even though I instinctively feel that this is the right thing to do, there are so many what-ifs and silly questions that plague me, simply because I cannot give a definite answer to them and unknown variables bother me.

[dollystuartwrites]

7&ME - Chapter 24 - Frustration

Pairing: OT7 x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut, idol AU, straight, bisexual, gay, threesome

Wordcount: 982

Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [18] - [19] - [20]   [21] - [22] - [23] - [24] - [25] - [26] - [27] - [28] - [29] - [30] MASTERLIST Wanna read all the chapters right now? You can find the complete story for free on WATTPAD

Summary: Miracles do happen! Somehow you've finally managed to secure a job at a big company! Even though it'll be a 24/7 job, they promised you a fat paycheck, so you don't care what the job is... But what if the job is managing 7 grown men? Seven men who all have needs...

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, fingering, size kink, oral (f&m receiving), dirty talk, gay sex, threesome sex, bisexual sex, implied masturbation, this is super vanilla compared to most of my stories, let me know what I missed.

Y O U R   P E R S P E C T I V E

A few days had passed since my stroll with Jin and the sexual frustration was getting real. Even though I had masturbated (several times over the past few days), it did not seem to help. Every time I saw either Yoongi, Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, or Jimin I couldn't help but think of the things we had done and the unfinished business I had with them. Of course, I had gone all the way with Namjoon, but the thought of it only made me long for more. 

However, the guys' schedules had been completely packed lately as they had to shoot a video soon. They'd leave early, come home late and use the time they had off to sleep and rest. 

Besides the increasing sexual frustration, I felt I really missed them. I missed our talks, the way they'd laugh and joke with me and each other. 

One day I got so frustrated, I found myself standing in front of Yoongi's door, ready to ask him to please...

But then I remembered how tired he had looked when he got home that night. It wouldn't be fair to take his much-needed sleep away from him. 

I just had to grit my teeth and try to get through it by myself. 

-xxx-

On Friday night they all came home completely exhausted, and after greeting me with hugs (a thing they now all did, which made my sexual frustration even worse) they all scurried off to their rooms to sleep again. 

Except for Jimin.

As the boys wished. me and each other good night and entered their rooms he waited in the living room with me. 

He looked very tired.

'How are you doing?' Jimin asked friendly when all the bedroom doors had closed.

'I'm fine thank you Oppa,' I said incredulously. 

How could he ask about me when it was obvious he was completely worked to the bone?

'I'm glad to hear it,' he smiled at me before I could ask him the same thing. 

'Are you still happy here?' he asked me, taking a few steps closer and tilting his head slightly. 

'I am, very much,' I nodded.

Jimin took another step towards me.

'You know I have a sixth sense for when something is wrong,' he said seriously. 

I swallowed. Something was wrong. But in a way that was probably different than he was thinking.

I bit my lip.

'It's just...,' I said, thinking of what to say. Although I had decided to embrace my sexual side, I wasn't quite ready yet to tell him I had been horny for the past few days, unable to satisfy myself and in dire need of some dick. 

It didn't help that the last time I had really spoken to him, I had been pissed with him, then I had cried and then I had made out with him. 

'I hope you do not regret your decision to stay?' he asked, his face worried.

'No! Certainly not!' I said quickly.

'Then... Was it our kiss?' Jimin asked hesitantly.

The feeling of that kiss, and all the others I had kissed flushed over me.

'That kiss was amazing,' I said, unable to keep the lust I felt out of my voice. 

Jimin smirked. It wasn't a smirk one would have after a funny joke.

It was a smirk that told me he had definitely picked up on the underlying message within my answer. 

'So you,' he said and he smiled slightly, 'enjoyed it?' 

I had definitely given myself away.

The concern that had been visible on his face earlier had completely disappeared.

He bent his head and grinned, taking a few steps forwards and bumping into me on purpose.

I felt his hands on my waist as he rested his head on my collarbone. 

It was so cute and hot at the same time and I could instantly feel my heartbeat and temperature rise.

'I missed you,' he whispered. I could feel his hot breath on my neck and put my hand on his head to stroke my fingers through his hair. 

His hair was always so soft and fluffy.

'I missed you guys too,' I whispered back. 

Jimin raised his head, looking at me. 

'Since the shoot is finally finished, we wanted to celebrate by going out tomorrow,' he said. 

The shape of his eyes are so beautiful.

'We would love it if you would join us,' he said, bringing his face slightly closer to mine. 

I felt my heart pounding and I had to do my best to stay focused on what he was saying.

'Going... out...' I repeated, shifting my gaze from his pink full lips to his dark eyes and back again. 'I don't think I have anything to wear,' I said, my mouth dry. 

The corners of Jimin's mouth twisted into a smile.

'I was hoping you'd say that,' he whispered. His face was only inches from mine now. I closed my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me, breathing heavily. 

'Shall I pick something out for you?' he asked, I could feel his breath brushing my lips, he was only a hair away. 

'Yes,' I moaned. 

'Yes what?' he demanded his voice suddenly stern and I could feel him squeezing my waist. 

'Yes please Oppa,' I spoke without thinking, my eyes still closed. I would do anything he'd tell me to right now. 

'Good girl,' he growled, the air brushing my lips once again. 

I  opened my mouth slightly, longing for his kiss.

But it didn't come.

Instead, he let go of me, and I could feel the warmth of his body disappear.

I opened my eyes in disappointment. 

He was already a few steps away from me again. 

'Tomorrow evening, 10 o'clock, your room,' he said shortly but sternly before swivelling around and walking off to his room.

I stood nailed to the ground, panting, my panties already completely soaked.

[ourlittledinosaur]

3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

New Post has been published on https://www.ourlittledinosaur.com/3-family-friendly-ways-to-be-frugal/

3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

Money, Money, Money!

Some say that money is the root of all evil. Well, actually the Bible says that the LOVE of money is the root of all evil. (1 Timothy 6:10) This simply means that money should not be our idol. It does not mean that we should never think about money or should never have money. In fact, the Bible encourages wisdom when handling our assets, and even talks about wealth as a good thing. It is wise to save money and even to invest it.

Invest? Are You Crazy? I’m in Debt and Living Paycheck to Paycheck!

Ok, so maybe you have some steps in between now and investing. That’s ok. The important thing is to get started! The most important aspect in my opinion is to GET OUT AND STAY OUT of debt. It is the black hole of a healthy financial lifestyle. Also, BUDGET. As Dave Ramsey says, “Every dollar has a name.” I highly recommend Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University (FPU). Not only does it outline simple steps for how to handle your money, but it is a great way for you and your spouse to get on board the same train…the mental train of thought that is!

Healthy Financial Habits are Good for Your Family

You may have heard that 50% of marriages end in divorce. Did you know that a high percentage of those divorces end due primarily to fights over money? Being unified as husband and wife (or Daddy and Mommy, as your kids see you) is so very important for the health of your family. Kids are smart and they see what you argue about. They worry about what you worry about. This Lil’ Dino Mommy tries really hard not to argue or fight with Lil’ Dino Daddy in front of our son…even if he is just a year old. You may be thinking, “Surely, at such a young age, he won’t know.” or “He won’t remember.” Perhaps not, and I hope you’re right about that because I’ve already failed in not losing my temper with my husband in front of him. But there are two reasons why I really want to keep working towards the “Don’t fight in front of your kids” rule.

Perfect Practice Makes Perfect. The behaviors and words we are used to doing and saying on a day to day basis are going to be what our kids see. It’s not like we can flip a switch and suddenly be a different person. Besides, in those moments of anger, we are told not to sin. Feeling angry in and of itself isn’t sinful. It’s how we handle that anger that makes a difference. I want to practice right now, today, the self-control I will need in the future. If my husband and I are in the habit of speaking kindly to one another and dealing with arguments at another time or place, then when push comes to shove (metaphorically, of course!), we will be able to do the same in the future. Besides, we should be dealing with one another kindly whether or not there are little eyes watching. Which brings me to…

Monkey See. Monkey Do. Who hasn’t heard this phrase? I’ll do you one better, who wasn’t told as a kid by some adult, (maybe not your parents, well…maybe them too), “Do as I say, not as I do”? And who, if you were a teenager, didn’t think, “Yeah right!” We are supposed to model for our children the correct ways to behave and to speak. A perfect example of this in my own life was a couple months ago. I was talking to my husband, frustrated about something, but not at him, and I threw down a pair of pants I was folding as I exclaimed about it. My son, 10 months old, said, “Argh!” and threw down his toy. Oh…hold up there Lil’ Dino Mommy, get it together because your BABY boy is watching you oh, so closely. Another example of this is eating healthy. I really want my children to have healthy eating habits. It is something I have really struggled with all my life and I don’t want them to struggle the same way. The BEST way for me to ensure this is to give them the knowledge on what healthy eating looks like AND model that knowledge in our day to day lives. Eating healthy has to be a lifestyle, not merely a New Year’s Resolution or a fad.

Getting to the Point

So, we all need to practice and model good habits for our kiddos. This includes how we handle our money! So here are # Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal! If you can’t do them all right away, don’t worry. Maybe just work on adding one to start. Whether you are in debt and trying to pinch pennies to get out, or trying to reallocate some funds into your current investments, these are all ways to rename some of those dollars. This was definitely a process for Lil’ Dino Daddy and me. I will share the crazy things we do even though some of you may think they are just TOO crazy. Some may not work for everyone, but maybe they all will work for someone.

3 Family Friendly Ways to be Frugal

Limit Eating Out. Cook More. This one is so tough for me, which is why it is first on the list. Feeding our family is mainly my responsibility. I want to do a good job for both the health of my family and the health of our bank account. Being a “Drive-Thru Sue” is so very easy for me to fall into. I do enjoy cooking, but let’s face it, it takes time, not to mention the clean up can seem like more work than it’s worth to prepare the meal. Now that I have a one year old toddler in tow, it is all the more difficult to find time to do what it takes to cook. However, this is the most frugal thing I can do. Since eating is something I can easily let get out of control, it is the first thing I have to address. So, for me, taking care of this has to come before a clean house, to include laundry. Here’s how I accomplish this…most weeks.

Meal Planning. Every week I sit down and write up a meal plan. This is a habit I learned from my mother-in-law after I was married and it has really helped us save money on food. How? Well, before I meal plan, I take a peek at what’s in my fridge, freezer, and pantry, and try to build meals around things I already have. Then I sit down and peruse my cookbooks if I’m feeling adventurous, or jot down a few meals that are staples in our home. As I make my meals, I make my…

Grocery List. This seems simple enough, but a well planned grocery list keeps me from buying things that aren’t ON the list. When I go to the store without a list, I end up buying more than I need, and usually waste more…because the two of us (plus little dino) simply can’t get through it all. If this is a pain point for you, I have a few friends that swear by the curbside pick up or grocery delivery options at our local grocery stores. Some stores do charge for this service, but if you find yourself spending less using this option than if you would have gone in, it’s definitely worth a try.

Prepare Meals Ahead. When I am cooking certain meals, I will sometimes double the recipe and save half in the freezer. Some good candidates for freezer meals are soups, chili, and casseroles, such as shepherd’s pie. I also tend to make more spaghetti sauce in relation to pasta or spaghetti squash, so I freeze half of this as well. (Bonus tip: For those who aren’t good at eating through all the produce in the fridge before it wilts or spoils, wash it and chop it when you buy it, and throw it in the freezer for another day! I do this with carrots, spinach, celery, peppers, and berries. I also buy bulk onions and garlic and just throw the whole bag in the freezer for when I need it.)

Eat Leftovers. I’m always shocked when I hear people say they don’t eat leftovers. I truly can’t imagine just throwing food away. Ok, so maybe some people are good at preparing just enough for that one meal. To that I say: I truly can’t imagine having to cook every night. Hahaha! But if you can, power to you. That’s awesome! If that is you, you are clearly way more organized than me and probably LOVE cooking way more than me as well.

Make Eating Out Special. If you are like me, eating out or ordering in, even at fast food places, can feel like a vacation from the kitchen. I enjoy not having to cook that night. I enjoy letting someone else feed me for a change, for goodness sake! My husband and I try to plan once a month to go somewhere we really enjoy and make a date out of it. (I must note that this last one is not recommended for those who are in debt. When my husband and I had debt, we did not eat out. Ever. We basically lived on rice, beans, and eggs, and at times, the kindness of others who might have us over for dinner.)

Old School House Rules. Take a look at that budget. Work on taking steps to lower your household expenses. What can you do to lower your electricity bill? Your water bill?

Turn off the lights and switch to LED. I used to get in such trouble as a child for keeping the lights on in a room I was no longer occupying. I still shudder in fear at the remembrance of the sound of my first and middle name being yelled by my mother if she found a vacant room with a light burning brightly. In fact, this habit has stuck so severely, that I have (more than once) turned the light off as I leave a room my husband is still occupying! Whoops! Sorry honey.

Another energy saving method we have employed is using a drying rack to dry our clothes instead of the dryer. The average person spends about $50/month by using the dryer. Drying racks or clothes lines are not only cheaper as it relates to electricity, but it also keeps your clothes from wearing out as quickly. We use drying racks because our subdivision’s HOA would not allow the use of a clothes line in the backyard. (Ridiculous! We will never buy a house under an HOA again!) However, since we moved to our apartment, the drying racks have allowed us to continue to dry clothes both inside and outside on the patio. (Thank goodness the complex doesn’t mind

If you own your own home and plan to live there for a while, look into things you can do to make your home more energy efficient. We had solar screens fitted to our windows and there was a significant difference in the amount of heat coming into our home during the summer. Living in South Texas, the heat can be brutal! We also had our insulation double checked and a radiant barrier installed. Once we have found our forever home, we will look into Solar panels.

Saving on the water bill doesn’t take too much imagination, but doesn’t take some discipline if you really want to make a dent. Turn the water off when you’re brushing your teeth, pay attention to how long your shower is running. If you are watering your grass or garden, make it count by watering early in the morning or late in the evening. Think dawn and/or dusk.

Replace Consumable Products with Reusable Products. This one was tough for our family in the beginning, but now it’s not a big deal at all. The most difficult thing to let go of was paper towels. We used them for everything from cleaning to napkins. So here’s what I did: I started cleaning the table and counters with my dish towels. I also bought a set of 12 cloth napkins – the kind you see at a nice-ish restaurant, and we use these at meal times rather than tearing off pre-perforated paper towels and passing them around the table like we used to do. I have also recently discovered a self-cleaning microfiber cloth which I really like. This has eliminated my need for chemical cleaners, so although the transition is slow-going, my home is on its way to chemical-free cleaning with these cloths and essential oil blends like Thieves.

This idea can be applied to other things as well. Consider the consumable products you use. What reusable products might you be able to replace them with? Here are a few more ideas: cloth diapers instead of disposable (do I dare mention the wipes?), maybe use reusable containers rather than plastic baggies when packing your lunch, and go ahead and use your flatware instead of buying paper plates. What’s a little more laundry and a few more dishes? – we all have to do them anyway!

There are so many ways to tweak lifestyle and habits alike in order to save money. For more ideas, visit this website. Now here’s a family dedicated to frugality. I love Mrs. Frugalwoods’ idea to put a slip of paper in your wallet to remind you of your bigger goals and dreams. If you’re us, when you go to spend money you see it and say, “Would I rather have pizza delivered or for my family to be closer to our goal of owning a farm?”

Our family wants to learn from you too! Please share YOUR frugal ideas in the comment section below.

Like this post? Help us and others by Sharing!

Share List

SGMB_URL = "/wp-content/plugins/social-media-pro/"; jQuery(".dropdownWrapper").hide(); SGMB_GOOGLE_ACOUNT = "UA-88059982-5"; jQuery(document).ready(function($)var widget = new SGMBWidget();widget.show("id":"1","title":"Share All","options":"currentUrl":"1","url":"","shareText":"I really enjoyed this, I think you will too!","fontSize":"20","betweenButtons":"1px","theme":"classic","sgmbButtonsPosition":"bottomCenter","socialTheme":"classic","icon":"default","buttonsPanelEffect":"No Effect","buttonsEffect":"tada","iconsEffect":"No Effect","buttons":"\"mewe\":\"label\":\"Share\",\"icon\":\"default-mewe\",\"stumbleupon\":\"label\":\"Share\",\"icon\":\"default-stumbleupon\",\"email\":\"label\":\"E-mail\",\"icon\":\"default-email\",\"linkedin\":\"label\":\"Share\",\"icon\":\"default-linkedin\",\"pinterest\":\"label\":\"Pin this\",\"icon\":\"default-pinterest\",\"tumblr\":\"label\":\"Post\",\"icon\":\"default-tumblr\",\"twitter\":\"label\":\"Tweet\",\"icon\":\"default-twitter\",\"via\":\"\",\"hashtags\":\"#parenthood\",\"twitterFollow\":\"twitterFollowShowCounts\":\"\",\"setLargeSizeForTwitterFollow\":\"on\",\"followUserName\":\"OurLilDinosaur\",\"facebook\":\"label\":\"Share\",\"icon\":\"default-facebook\"","roundButton":"","showLabels":"","showCounts":"on","showCenter":"on","showButtonsAsList":"","sgmbDropdownColor":"","sgmbDropdownLabelFontSize":"14","sgmbDropdownLabelColor":"","showButtonsOnEveryPost":"on","selectedOrExcluded":"","showButtonsOnEveryPage":"","textOnEveryPost":"Like this post? Help us and others by Sharing!","showButtonsOnCustomPost":"","textOnCustomPost":"","showButtonsOnMobileDirect":"on","showButtonsOnDesktopDirect":"on","sgmbSelectedPages":[""],"sgmbExcludedPosts":[""],"sgmbSelectedCustomPosts":[],"showButtonsInPopup":"","titleOfPopup":"Please share it!","descriptionOfPopup":"Go ahead and share our site if you liked it!","showPopupOnLoad":"","showPopupOnScroll":"","showPopupOnExit":"","openSecondsOfPopup":"","googleAnaliticsAccount":"UA-88059982-5","buttonOptions":"mewe":"label":"Share","icon":"default-mewe","stumbleupon":"label":"Share","icon":"default-stumbleupon","email":"label":"E-mail","icon":"default-email","linkedin":"label":"Share","icon":"default-linkedin","pinterest":"label":"Pin this","icon":"default-pinterest","tumblr":"label":"Post","icon":"default-tumblr","twitter":"label":"Tweet","icon":"default-twitter","via":"","hashtags":"#parenthood","twitterFollow":"twitterFollowShowCounts":"","setLargeSizeForTwitterFollow":"on","followUserName":"OurLilDinosaur","facebook":"label":"Share","icon":"default-facebook","button":["mewe","stumbleupon","email","linkedin","pinterest","tumblr","twitter","twitterFollow","facebook"], 4, '', '/wp-content/plugins/social-media-pro//img/no-image.png', '', ''); );

jQuery(".socialMediaOnEveryPost").addClass("sgmb-center")

[restwellsoon]

The Prince and His Paper

Summary: Shouto seems more like a prince than a sugar daddy. Like a prince, there's a coolness that keeps him emotionally distant. But money has a way of burning a hole in one's pocket and somehow Shouto's heart gets melted too.  

/  “I mean, duh,” you told your reflection. “Some hot, young rich dude wants to rail me? And pay me for it? Beats having some creepy old dude suck my toes.”

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x F!Reader

Cw: Sugar daddy AU, implied smut

Shouto logged into his bank account, thinking that he ought to since it’s been a few weeks since he last checked it. He wasn’t surprised by the amount of commas in the total but rather confused as to how he could still have so much money leftover every paycheck with the lavish way he lived on his off days.

Exiting out of the app, he rolled onto his stomach. It would take at least two tumbles for him to reach the other side of his king-sized bed, his first splurge as a pro-hero. Even though the mattress was plush and the sheets made with the highest thread count, he still longed for his old, worn futon from his UA days. After a long day of work, his bed felt far too big and cold.

He didn’t want many things in his life, already content with what he had. He finally became a hero in his own right, finally able to step out of the shadow of his family’s name. His family situation, though still tense, was slowly improving. He was fine with whatever progress they’ve made together, thinking it would even be foolish if they tried to speed up the process of reconciliation. And his friends? Though sometimes they were too busy to hang out outside of work, he was grateful that he could at least see them a few times a month because of work.

Love? It was a complicated thing for Shouto. He was worried he might not even know how to love because of his childhood and parents’ example. He could listen to the love lives of all his single friends yet if he tried to mimic or follow their advice, it wouldn’t feel authentic. But just because Shouto had some apprehension towards dating, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t interested.

---

“You have to have some idea of how you want to meet your perfect person,” Ochako said, waving a piece of barbecued meat that was caught between her chopsticks at Shouto.

It was a rare night where everyone’s schedules aligned, a sign that they should get dinner together and catch up. Midoriya was to her left. Bakugou was to the right of him and Kaminari to the other side of Bakugou. They sat at a circular table, gathered around a yakiniku grill, the occasional crackle and clank of beer glasses breaking through their conversation.

Kaminari, always one to prefer lighter and more casual conversation, egged him on, much to Ochako’s delight.

“C’mon, prince, there has to be some way to win your heart. Us single men won’t have a chance with any of the beautiful women of Musutafu until they know you’re taken!”

Shouto never really thought about how he would find that special someone. With all of the people in the world, he thought his odds were quite slim. He indulged them anyway.

“I suppose it would be a casual encounter.”

Kaminari made a face at this while Bakugou was polite enough to hold in a snicker, elbowing the darker blond. He locked eyes with everyone else at the table, mouthing ‘He doesn’t know’ while holding his composure poorly.

“Maybe I’d be reading a book or a newspaper, drinking coffee in the early morning. I’m not quite sure how the conversation would start but there would just be an instant spark and it would go from there.”

He’d been in similar situations often. The coffee shop he frequented had a newsstand in front of it. While waiting for his order, he took to reading the newspaper, opting to get his news the more traditional way. The people who often came up to him rarely approached him because he was Todoroki Shouto but because he was Pro-Hero Shouto. Their motives varied from his looks to his wealth. Some were simply fans dreaming of their chance to be with their idol. Regardless of their reasons, he wasn’t interested. He didn’t have clear details of what he wanted in a partner but he knew it wasn’t that.

After listening as quietly as he could, Kaminari looked like he was about to burst and Bakugou seemed far too tired from work to control him any longer.

Leaning across the other hero, there was a twinkle in his golden eyes as if he was going to tell Shouto a little-known secret.

“Look, Prince Charming, if it’s sparks that you’re looking for, look no further.” A small burst of electricity shot from his hand for emphasis as he leaned back with a grin.

“But you’re gonna have to go on a few dates before you really know if you’ve found the one. Trust me. This is coming from Musutafu’s second most-eligible bachelor after you, of course.”

Bakugou snorted at the comment. “More like Musutafu’s most unwanted bachelor.”

“If I’m the most, then you must be in a close second, ready to take the title from me, grumpy,” the Stun Gun hero retorted, seemingly nonplussed by his friend’s teasing.

Kaminari became serious once more. “But really, if you want a casual encounter, maybe you should look into getting a sugar baby.”

Naturally, sweet and innocent Midoriya didn’t know what a sugar baby was, looking at the expressions of the others for context clues. Bakugou looked disgusted, his nose scrunched up at the thought, mumbling something about there being better monetary investments.

Ochako had a blush on her face, telling Shouto that if he wanted one, he’d better be prepared because they were expensive. Kaminari asked if that would have been her alternate career choice if she didn’t become a hero, earning a harsh kick from under the table.

And Shouto’s understanding of the word?

“Well, I just don’t think I’m ready to be a father yet. It would also be reckless of me to take on a child without looking up how to properly care for them and their inability to make insulin.”

The blonds and Ochako laughed at Shouto’s misunderstanding.

“No, no, no. That’s not what that- well, shit. Would it be better if I explained it? I could also call Mineta up right now.”

By the looks on everyone’s face, Kaminari knew that was a stupid suggestion.

---

“What you’re looking for is the girlfriend experience,” Kaminari slurred at him, a few too many drinks in his system.

Shouto must have made a face at his comment because the blond added, “The great thing about it is that it has all of the perks of an actual relationship without the stress of being in one.”

The other blond between them didn’t seem sold on the idea, giving Shouto an opinion that he didn’t ask for.

“Look Icy Hot, this whole girlfriend experience? Seems like a waste of time if you ask me. You either commit to a relationship or you don’t. There’s no point in paying a couple of grand for a pretend one.”

Bakugou’s argument was perfectly logical yet as Shouto replayed their conversation in his empty bed, he couldn’t help but feel enticed by Kaminari’s words instead.

---

It was mornings like these that he enjoyed the most, sitting in front of his favorite cafe, a fresh newspaper in his hands as he sipped on his black coffee. He had the next few days off, his phone set to a loud ringer in case his agency desperately needed him, but he knew that they rarely would so early in the day.

As much as Shouto loved to read the news -exposés were his favorite- he found himself turning to an often ignored section- the personal ads. Most of the space was a waste of ink in his opinion, oftentimes just desperate attempts to reach out to some beautiful stranger. But he couldn’t help but scour the page for any mentions of someone looking for companionship with monetary compensation.

**NO STRINGS ATTACHED RELATIONSHIP WANTED BUT IF YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH ME, THAT’S ON YOU. Looking for a mean dom to help with my unresolved discipline issues. Choking OK and ENCOURAGED.

Call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hope to chat soon!

Shouto wasn’t one to judge what got other’s off in the bedroom but to read such a brazen description on a Thursday morning made him flush a bright red.

It was honestly a job that he could have delegated to his assistant but somehow, the thought of having them comb through hundreds of ads -probably of the same type if not worse than that one- to find a person suitable for Shouto made his ears blush. The thought of having a type embarrassed him. Besides, he could only imagine what kind of news it would be if others found out about this. Perhaps it would be his face on the front of the newspaper, some terribly sensational title in bold to draw the reader in.

He set the newspaper down, folding it neatly next to his coffee. The ads wouldn’t do. The Internet would be better.

He paused before hitting the search button, ‘sugar daddy seeking gfe’ staring back at him, daring him to go through with his desire. What if someone hacked his phone? What would everyone think?

While he was deliberating on his best option, his phone decided for him. His agency’s name was in bold letters, begging him to accept the call.

“-headed towards the downtown area? Sure, I’ll be there as fast as I -”

With his phone pressed to his ear, Shouto failed to notice the slight change in his surroundings, coffee cup in hand as the other tucked his newspaper in his back pocket.

“Ugh, wha-”

Shouto turned slightly to see the cause of his delay and the reason why his coffee was on the ground, looking at you splayed out on the cement beside him. His coffee spilled all over a cracked laptop and messenger bag.

You rubbed the dirt off of your front first and checked for any broken skin. Satisfied -maybe a bit disappointed, this was as close as you would realistically get to getting hit by a car and getting paid out for your injuries-, you clutched at a weightless flank, grasping at air for a moment before realizing that your bag was on the floor, wet with something hot and liquid.

You made a noise in-between a screech and a cry, diving back onto the floor to grab it. Lifting the computer up -heavy because it was a couple of years old-, you assessed a large crack on the right corner, coffee leaking from smaller cracks, telling you that it was probably beyond repair. If it was salvageable, it would cost you a couple hundred at least- way more than what it was worth.

Already annoyed because you were running late, you knew that today would be even worse now that your laptop was ruined. You just hoped that your boss wouldn’t fire you.

You looked at the culprit. His loose V-neck was tucked into dark-washed denim. Conveniently, none of his drink got on him. Your eyes moved down to a watch. Bulgari. Expensive.

“You owe me one,” you told him, deciding that he had enough money to compensate you. You pulled a business card out of your bag, tossing it on the table before rushing off to work.

Shouto was still trying to process what happened.

---

Whether it was a complete disregard for Shouto’s hero status or perhaps because of it, you demanded that the heterochromatic hero replace the entirety of your laptop. You made no comment about his profession at all when the two of you exchanged names.

***They don’t make this laptop anymore so you’ll have to replace the entire thing.

He simply replied that he was already planning on it.

You stared back at the screen, surprised that your text actually worked. After an extra semester at a college that was absurdly expensive with knowledge that didn’t even apply to your current job, you felt overwhelmed by the actual cost of being alive. You made decent money but it seemed that all of your paychecks went to food, rent and student loans. Your college days made you unashamed of asking for a discount but you’ve never been so aggressive in your life. You were just thankful that Shouto didn’t look too deep into your comment and seemed agreeable.

You most likely meant it in a mocking tone but your casual ‘good boy’ and a future meeting in response did something to Shouto. He was used to others flirting with him, often being gratuitous in their praise and submissive towards him. If they weren’t after his money, then they only cared about his looks. Your attitude was… refreshing.

He found himself staring at your conversation on his phone days later as if anticipating you to say something else but you didn’t.

---

It had been a while since you last went on a date, which was why you had to argue out loud with yourself that picking up a laptop from a handsome stranger was definitely not a date.

“I always get this dolled up for casual meetings,” you tried to convince yourself in the mirror, tugging at your clothes to make sure they sat just right on your body.

You eyed the bottle of perfume on your bathroom counter. “I always wear perfume too, not just for incredibly special occasions…”

Feeling your anxiety pick up as you approached the coffee shop, you tried to appear as casual as you could as your eyes searched for a tall, lean man wearing a light blue button up and khakis.

Maybe you should look at the picture he sent you again to make sure you remembered his outfit properly? It wasn’t weird at all, you reminded yourself, not when Shouto sent you the mirror selfie himself.

‘To make it easier to find me,’ he texted.

“You’re here early,” a low voice said from behind, their figure casting a shadow over you and your phone screen.

Jumping in surprise, you quickly turned to see that Shouto himself appeared, looking exactly like his photo. In his hand was a bag from the local electronics store. You threw your phone in your pocket, hoping that he didn’t see what you were looking at.

When you didn’t reply, he offered to get you a drink.

“Uh, it’s fine. I should be the one getting you a drink,” you stammered, grateful that he didn’t make any mention of what he might have seen on your phone screen. You motioned towards the bag and then the café. “Ya know, equivalent exchange and all that.”

He gave you a wry smile. “Equivalent exchange, huh?”

You didn’t like the look on his face. He wouldn’t order something ridiculous, would he? This wasn’t some place where you could add extravagant shit to your drinks, like 14K gold flakes, right? You checked your bank account before you left. You had a couple hundred to spare for the month but you most certainly didn’t want to spend it on drinks.

“How about this,” he offered, seeing the weary look on your face. “I give you my coffee order, you get yourself something too and then after, we can chat a little. We both came out of our way after all.”

Shouto might as well have shoved those bills into your gaping mouth instead of your hand. Not only were you surprised by the excessive amount of money he gave you but you were relieved that he ordered something normal.

---

“So what did you want to talk about?” You asked, trading his drink for the computer.

The two of you sat in a more secluded part of the outdoor section, blocked with shrubs from other patrons and any passersby. It was good to

“When you mentioned equivalent exchange, it made me wonder what else you might be interested in if you thought it was a fair trade...”

You had a slight suspicion of what Shouto might be implying but it also rose from the same place that tried to convince you that this was somehow a date. You waited for him to finish before responding.

He spoke so bluntly that you felt a flutter of embarrassment rise from your stomach and into your throat, making you stutter as you spoke.

“…so, you’re propositioning me for sex in exchange for money?”

Shouto’s face turned a bright red at your question. It was what he was asking but it sounded different when it came from your mouth instead of his. It sounded vulgar and he felt like a perv, regret immediately washing over him for thinking you would even be agreeable to something like that. He could already hear his assistant and PR rep screaming at him. This was probably illegal in some parts of the country.

He cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment but you thought he looked nonplussed, making you wonder if he proposed this kind of deal often.

“Well?”

As much as you wanted to scream ‘Yes, absolutely fucking YES’ at the top of your lungs, you didn’t want to show how desperate you were and make Shouto rescind his offer.

“I’ll text you in a few days. I need to think about this.”

---

What 20-something-year-old hasn’t joked about being a sugar baby? Being in the workforce and knowing you would have to slave away for another thirty to forty years at minimum would make even the most prudent of saints throw away their moral compass. Especially for someone as hot as Shouto.

You were talking to yourself in the mirror again, making faces at your reflection and pulling, squeezing, tugging different assets, trying to figure out what it was that made Shouto offer such a lucrative deal to you.

“I mean, duh,” you told your reflection. “Some hot, young rich dude wants to rail me? And pay me for it? Beats having some creepy old dude suck my toes.”

You almost felt bad for accepting his offer, thinking that you were practically robbing the guy. You were winning all-around and Shouto? Well, you knew you weren’t the worst looking out there and at least you thought that you were pretty funny…

---

The boring humdrum of Shouto’s days in the office was broken by the loud chirp of his phone alerting him of a text message. He opened it eagerly, having already muted all of his group chats with co-workers and friends.

**I’ll do it but don’t request anything weird

The smile on his face fell as he read your text. Would it be weird that he was essentially asking you to be his girlfriend without the actual time and emotional commitment? The question was pushed out of his mind as it got consumed by something more powerful- loneliness.

---

The first time was awkward for the both of you to say the least, one asking to stop right when it felt hot and heavy for the other. It felt wrong to take Shouto’s money then, apologizing profusely and saying that you’d do better next time.

But with each meeting, the two of you grew more comfortable in each other’s presence, the kisses coming easier and the orgasms coming.

In the beginning, it wasn’t hard to follow Shouto’s rule about no emotional attachment. The two of you acted like a couple together -him sharing his work and personal stress with you- but when you were apart, you went back to your separate lives.

To be extra cautious, you didn’t have his number saved. It was tempting but you thought of your student loans and your monthly bills every time you wanted to look him up on the Internet.

It was with astonishment that you learned that he was a high-ranking hero a few weeks into your relationship -the news and heroes was something that you unintentionally avoided-, admitting that you thought he was just a good-looking rich kid with a fancy job.

“A pretty boy with an even prettier wallet,” you told him once as you parted early in the morning, the sun’s rays casting him in a glow that made him look like an angel from your wettest dreams.

The light was bright as you two parted ways so you couldn’t see the frown on Shouto’s face at your comment. That meeting would have marked six months since you two made your arrangement.

---

The door slammed against the wall as frantic hands rushed to shut it, clothes and zippers coming undone.

Shouto spoke in-between kisses, his words sometimes getting lost against your skin.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you today,” he murmured, his hands making quick work of your button-up as he hoisted you onto his kitchen counter.

“And what were you thinking about? How much this is gonna cost you?” You teased. You always deflected comments like that from Shouto, which have been increasing as of late. It made it difficult not to fall for the man when he whispered the sweetest things in your ear while making you feel so good.

He looked up at you, your hands in his hair pushed his bangs back, making it easy for him to look into your eyes clearly.

“No, I was thinking about how nice it would be to hear my name on your lips.”

He smirked as you did that one thing you always did when you were surprised, pushing your reaction even further. “No, honestly I was thinking about how much I miss –”

You didn’t let him finish, your mouth crushing his confession.

---

When you left, your phone beeped letting you know that Shouto had sent money to your account. Before you’d check your banking app once you got home, divvying up the money to your varying expenses for the month. This time though, you flopped onto your couch instead, staring at the ceiling.

There were multiple things that Shouto could have said. I miss your touch. I miss fucking you. I miss… I miss I miss I miss. Your mind ran through everything other than I miss you.

It’s not like you were oblivious to others having romantic feelings for you, but with Shouto, it didn’t make sense. Not with his rules. Not with his life. Not with… anything really.

Why would he waste his time on some average citizen who worked a 9 to 5 when he could have someone more glamorous?

---

The sex was good and it was nice to have someone who listened and supported him. But as the weeks went on, your attitude and behavior started to bother him more and more. He couldn’t specify why it bothered him but he started putting weight into your words, spending the moments after you left thinking about everything that happened.

“Work,” you told him one night as you yawned. You were usually tired when you met up, nights being the most convenient time for both of you.

Shouto threw on a loose tee, giving you a side glance. “With my money, you could go part-time. Maybe even quit your job after another year or two.”

Trying to contain your expression, you wondered how long Shouto was planning on this lasting. It never occurred to you that he liked you enough to have this span over years, especially without getting emotions involved.

You approached the subject the way you usually did when he made comments that threatened to expose your true feelings. You joked about it.

“Maybe I can retire early then. Live my dreams of being a trophy wife or whatever...”

Another yawn escaped your lips, a mumbled ‘should head out soon’ barely registered as Shouto got lost in his thoughts. You always came to him tired and he wondered if his meetings were just another job to you.

And your dreams of being a trophy wife? Perhaps he was being too analytical but why couldn’t you imagine that with him?

---

Despite what your relationship with Shouto might imply, you really didn’t care much about the money. He’s been around others who were much more shameless about getting a handout from him or squeezing as much as they could get out of the pro-hero.

It seemed like you were underpaid, in his opinion. You blatantly refused Shouto’s initial offer, quickly making up some story about how you had a friend in a similar situation who only received a third of that. He was overpaying and he should have researched the market before offering such a ridiculous number. In reality, you knew you weren’t that great and most definitely not that special. It made you embarrassed to think that he truly thought being with you was worth that much.

---

Your life had grown exceedingly more comfortable since you met him. You were able to make a sizeable dent in your loans and paid off a credit card or two. Though having this non-relationship with him was a second job, it felt as if you had more time to enjoy life with Shouto around.

“Vegetables and cheese?” You asked one weekend, rifling through the bag of groceries that Shouto brought to your apartment.

It was humiliating at first to have him come over, something you tried to avoid for as long as possible. It was a humble one-bedroom in a decent part of the city but it was nothing in comparison to the extravagant penthouse that Shouto hardly lived in.

“They’re from the farmers market,” he told you, helping you unpack and put the items in the fridge.

“Organic, fresh and supportive of local business.”

“God, I could fuck you right now,” you teased.

He smiled at your comment, plucking a fresh strawberry from the counter behind you. Though you should have been used to Shouto’s tall, lean body by now, you weren’t. You squirmed beneath him, now locked in place with one arm and his hips pressed into yours.

He traced the shape of your mouth with the tip of the fruit as if trying to tempt you with it. But his words were far more seductive.

“Then why don’t you?” He dared.

---

“Not that I’m complaining but why don’t you have a girlfriend?” You asked one early morning. After Shouto’s urging, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to play hooky from your day job once in a while.

Golden rays spilled into the master bedroom, Shouto’s hero uniform cast aside on a chair, covering up another one of his many awards that he received. He was handsome, sweet and had it all. Why was he wasting his time and money on you when he could be with someone that he actually wanted to be with?

“It’s…”

He thought about mentioning his childhood and parents, awkward first dates that didn’t last more than a few hours and fan encounters that painted his picture of romantic relationships.

“Complicated.”

You hummed, a neutral response to Shouto’s vague answer.

“Not ready.”

He nodded. That was the gist of it. You always seemed to break down his issues and concerns to their barest forms, understanding him without really prying.

“And you?”

You blinked, going so far as to stop twirling his hair around your fingers. You felt him shift and you knew his eyes were on your face but you continued to stare at anywhere but him.

As much as Shouto confided in you, it was difficult to do the same without growing attached to him. There was already a certain amount of fondness that you had for him that bordered grounds for firing.

“Haven’t really been looking. Besides, I haven’t had much time to date because of…”

Us.

You watched as Shouto made a face, an unknown emotion flashing across his eyes. Though he never said you two had to be exclusive, the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit well with him. He felt torn though for his selfishness and desire to make you happy.

“It’s not like it’s a bad thing,” you said honestly. “I don’t really want to be with anyone else other than you.”

Oh.

He could feel his cheeks flush with heat at your comment. Even if you were just telling him something that he wanted to hear, it still made his heart race.

Shouto moved from your chest to his side of the bed, his back turned towards you. You checked the time. It was still early. You listened to his breathing slow and even out while wondering if you should have said that.

---

He asked for something different after he woke up and you hesitated at first, wondering if what he was asking of you straddled the line of his hard-set rule.

“You sure about this?” You asked, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t eagerly trying to dissuade him. “We could get in trouble with this. You could get in trouble.”

It was the first time Shouto ever got snappy with you. “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t ask.”

You only nodded as a confirmation, following him out the door.

Squinting, it was unusual being out in the day with Shouto like this. On the rare occasion where you would meet up during waking hours, the two of you usually had somewhere secluded to retreat to. But this? This was far from secluded.

The restaurant was bustling with patrons as the two of you walked into one of Musutafu’s hottest eateries without a reservation. You heard the place even rejected world-renown celebrities so you had your doubts that Shouto had enough star power to get the two of you in within the next six months, let alone immediately.

But as usual, Shouto surprised you, putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you to a tight spot in the center of the room, both of you following the server. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you but as you dared to look up, you realized that they were all focused on Shouto instead.

“Everyone can’t take their eyes off of you,” you commented.

“A shame,” he said, pulling out your chair for you and pushing it in. “Because I only have eyes for you.”

You laughed, using anxiety about all the attention as an excuse to why you felt so fluttery. “How long have you been wanting to say that?”

He gave you a thoughtful hum, eyes scanning half the menu before looking up to meet yours. He closed the menu, giving you his full attention.

“I never really wanted to until I met you.”

Oh.

---

Shouto tried to hide his dissatisfaction about his PR stunt, the newspaper rustling in his hands as he searched once more to see if there was any mention of your name. A shoddy photo of you both wasn’t even in the tabloids.

He frowned in annoyance. It didn’t matter if it didn’t make the paper, at least the people at the restaurant saw that he was obviously on a date with you, right?

Checking his phone for any missed calls or texts, he scrolled through his messages from his assistant and PR. There were only dates for interviews, an award ceremony in six months and a few questions about his thoughts on collaborating with a certain designer. No comments about his love life at all or what he did yesterday.

Taking a final sip from his coffee, he tucked the newspaper under his arm. At the very least, he got to learn a little more about you, the atmosphere of the restaurant making you more open to casual conversation.

---

Meeting up with Bakugou after his agency requested his services, he and the blond stretched after easily handling the criminals, Kirishima handling the press to the side. It wasn’t like they needed his Quirk. It surely made the mission faster, but it seemed if anything it was a ploy from Kirishima to hang out with the other two, quickly suggesting a bar to relax in after all of their hard work.

Despite the noise inside of the establishment, Bakugou’s harsh laughter rang loud and clear at their corner table. When the duo asked what Shouto had been up to lately, he didn’t lie.

“What a sap,” he howled despite Kirishima's warning jabs.

“I told you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, bits of ash and ice coming out of it. “You’re doing it wrong. You either are or you aren’t in a relationship. You either want her to be your girl or you don’t.”

Heterochromatic eyes glanced at Kirishima for any validation into Bakugou’s words. The redhead gave him a smile. “Your situation is probably more complicated than that but being honest about your feelings is the better route to follow.”

Bakugou waved him off, not giving Shouto a chance to object to either of their words.

---

The blond’s words rang in his head as he tried to decipher their meaning. The man was known for his astute nature but that didn’t mean he knew everything or had the best judgement when it came to matters of the heart. He wasn’t even dating let alone interested in romance! It would be best to take his words with a grain of salt, but Shouto forgot that salt melted ice, Bakugou’s words lingering in his mind every time he thought about you.

---

On his day off, Shouto perused through several stores at a higher-end shopping district, judging the items harshly as he tried to pick something that you liked. It was a relaxing way to pass time for him as he imagined what sort of expressions you’d make as you opened his gifts.

“Don’t you think that Kacchan is a little right?” Deku asked, shaking his head as a no to the engraved Burberry wallet that Shouto was looking at.

“The two of you spend a lot of your free time together. You think about her when you’re apart. You do things that you think would make her happy and you rely her when you’re stressed out. I’ve only had a couple of serious relationships but they sound a lot like mine…”

“It’s about the intention behind it,” Shouto said, settling on a scarf instead. “I might feel that way but it’s most likely one-sided. I’m paying for her affection.”

---

Of course. Of course Shouto almost got what he wanted. There were speculations about his love life in three different tabloids and aired on one TV channel dedicated to pro-hero gossip.

The same picture of Momo on top of him, her chest in his flushed face after a mission gone wrong, was on the front pages of these papers, some online articles too from what his assistant texted him. Both of their agencies were working hard to clear up the misunderstanding, trying to locate the photographer that sold the photo to the press.

His day only got worse as Shouto snuck off to your apartment, a small travel bag slung across his back as he planned to hide away with you for a few nights. It would be too suspicious if he took you both on a week-long trip outside of the country. That was what Momo was already planning on doing. It would only make the misunderstanding worse.

**Let’s meet for coffee first.

Shouto’s stomach dropped as he found you sitting right next to the newsstand, paper held so he could see that damned picture in front of it. He found his pace quickening, thinking of ways to calmly explain the situation.

“It’s not what you think!” He exclaimed, throwing down his bag on the floor and reaching for the paper. He could incinerate it easily but you refused to let it go, your eyes too interested in finishing the article.

“Are you telling me that Miss Yaoyarozu wasn’t ‘creati-ng a romance so hot that it melted ice prince Shouto’s heart?’”

You wanted to laugh at the seriousness of his ‘absolutely not!’

“If not her, then who has? If anyone even has at all.”

By now Bakugou’s words had melted and become a part of his heart. ‘Either you want her to be your girl or not’ gruffly echoing in his mind as he quickly assessed the situation and considered all possible outcomes.

“It’s you,” Shouto said. “It’s been you for the past eight months, when I realized six months ago, when you first bumped into me here from when we first texted.”

Shouto’s confession was surprisingly honest. He’s been vulnerable with you before but about things like work and friendships. The two of you skirted around the topic of love.

There was no way to deflect his confession now, no way for you to joke or tease your way out of this. It was time for you to acknowledge your own feelings for him.

“But what about your rule? No emotional attachment?”

He ran a hand through his hair, knowing that this would come up. “It was stupid. I was stupid.”

You laughed, Shouto still tense from your lack of acknowledgement for his feelings.

“You’re not the only one who’s stupid,” you smiled at him. “I’m stupid too. I’ve been lying to myself every time I saw you and every time we parted. I… I like you too but it seemed like emotional intimacy was a burden to you. Guess we can be idiots together”

After hearing the last part, his mind focused on ‘together,’ he blurted out, “Date me. I don’t want you to be some other person’s trophy wife when you can be mine.”

Shouto blinked, realizing the pace he was going at.

“What happened to not being ready?” You teased, savoring the moment of a blushing and bumbling Shouto who tried to backtrack before his usual cool demeanor took over again.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready because I was busy waiting for you.”

---

A few days later, Shouto sat at his spot in front of the coffee shop, newspaper in hand, reading over the same page for the past 30 minutes. He could recite the article by heart -he’s read it that many times-, flipping back and forth to look at the photo on the front with fondness.

The only time he looked up was when he heard the metallic screech of the chair in front of him being pulled back, letting him know that someone was going to sit down in front of him.

Your pointer finger poked at the front page, Shouto moving it upwards with a grin so you could read the headline.

‘Local Woman Apparently Burns Hole in Shouto’s Wallet While He Gets the Hots for Her in the Process’

The picture showed you two in front of that very spot, the photographer also coincidentally capturing a very surprised Bakugou and Kaminari post-patrol in the process.

“Can’t keep a secret in this town, huh?” You noted, reaching across the table to read the article yourself.

Your hand grazed his as you did this, the cold air making a shock of electricity as you touched.

The spark. The paper. The coffee shop.

It was everything that Shouto wanted.

Return to Curated Masterlists

[thesunshineriptide]

Pilot

Twisted wonderland - wandavision au

Characters: Yuu (gender neutral pronouns, implied femme gender roles), Kalim Al Asim, Jamil Viper, Ortho Shroud, Idia Shroud, Azul Ashengrotto, Original Male Character (Kaylus Cameron)

Content warning: food, yandere themes (but NOT from canon characters), manipulation, psychological distress

—————————————————————

Who could deny such a doting husband? Kaylus had given Yuu everything, hadn't he? A home, a steady paycheck, all the time and space they needed to work on whatever they'd like, doting affection, and a ring on everything else.

Yuu hummed while doing the dishes, the song “Mr. Sandman” by the Chordettes crooning softly from the dial radio placed on the windowsill. It was a beautiful shade of cloud grey outside. The bees were buzzing near the pewter colored roses, and the children outside played with a bright ash colored ball in the grass next door. It was really shaping up to be the perfect day out.

Yuu turned when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Kaylus, smiling widely.

“Good morning my loveliest, Yuu.”

“Good morning yourself, handsome mister.”

They exchanged a good morning kiss and smiled at one another.

“I’ve made the classic Queendom of Roses breakfast for you, dear. Sunny side up eggs, pork sausage, cut strawberries, and lemon scones. Oh! And I almost forgot the tea. Two sugars and cream, right?”

“You know me so well, doll.” Kaylus smiled, sharp and almost sweet toward Yuu. He took another step forward, “As much as I’d love to stay and enjoy it all, I have work to attend to, my love. Another time, perhaps?”

Yuu frowned, but it quickly melted into a smile, “Of course. Anything for you, love.”

He smiled and summoned his hat from thin air, tipping it toward Yuu, “I had nearly forgotten. You’ll give me a good luck kiss, won’t you?”

“Of course!”

Yuu strutted toward him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, flicking his hat up out of his eyes, “Don’t forget, we have the housewarming party tonight.”

“What housewarming party?”

“Kaylus, I told you about this three days ago! I’ve invited all the neighbors over so we can acquaint ourselves with the neighborhood! I’ve got RSVPs all lined up. You said you would take care of the food. You didn’t lie to me, now, did you?”

Kaylus’s face went blank for a moment. He could hear the laugh track playing.

“Of course not, what husband would I be if I did that? Now if you excuse me, I have to go now. Important…business…things.” He turned on his heel and walked out the door.

Yuu shook their head disapprovingly with a fond smile on their face. It certainly wouldn’t be fair to expect him to do everything, would it?

They finished doing the dishes and ate their breakfast. It had been maybe twenty minutes since Kaylus had left when they heard a knocking at the door. Yuu rushed over to open it.

“Hi! You’re our new neighbor, aren’t you? My name is Kalim Al Asim, it’s so nice to meet you.” He took Yuu’s hand, shaking it ecstatically with a wide swing, “My roommate, Jamil, and I live next to you to the left. It’s so nice for someone to finally be living here! I- oh, right, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh! It’s Yuu [ last name ]. It’s a pleasure to meet you too! Come in, come in.” Yuu stepped to the side, allowing Kalim to enter.

“Wow, this is a pretty big place just for you. Must be somewhat lonely.”

“Oh, no! I-I live here with my husband, Kaylus Cameron.”

Kalim looked momentarily surprised, but it snapped back to a big smile, “Oh, that's such a relief. It’d be a shame if you were alone all the time.” He walked toward Yuu, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just got so excited about the housewarming party you invited us too that I wanted to see if you needed any help! Jamil’s at work right now, but when he gets back he can help bunches. Oh, you’ll love him, he’s a great cook, and he can do just about anything. But I can help too! I used to help with setting up birthday parties for all my younger siblings.”

“Oh, Kalim, that’s such a sweet offer, but I could never ask that of you!”

“You didn’t! I offered.” He looks pleased with himself and their company, “Anything you need, I can help take care of!”

Since it was clear Kalim isn’t taking no for an answer, Yuu sighed and smiled, “Well, my husband was supposed to pick up some groceries so I can get to cooking, but I don’t think I’ll have enough time to prep everything and do the rest of the housewarming with the plates and tidying…” They hummed a moment, “Would you be interested in picking up some groceries for me? I’ll pay, naturally, and compensate you even. If you don’t feel up to it, though, that's perfectly fine.”

“No! I’d love to do it, Jamil always does the shopping and I think it would be fun if I got the chance.” Kalim bounced on his heels, grinning, “Anything you need, I’m ready!”

Yuu smiled and went to grab a sheet of paper and a pen, “This is so appreciated, Kalim, really. First, I need three eggs,” the scribbled down what they needed on the paper, “two bags of potatoes, some leeks, a bag of sugar, four oranges, two things of strawberries, marshmallow fluff, maraschino cherries, and three lemons. Think you can get all this?”

Kalim’s eyes were trained on the paper and he jumped a little, “Yes, absolutely, 100%.”

Yuu smiled and said, “You’re a lifesaver, Kalim. Here - I believe forty 1954 dollars will cover it. If not, I’ll pay you back for any over-charges.”

Kalim skipped off and out of the house, “I won’t let you down!” he yelled over his shoulder before running off to complete the errands.

Yuu’s list isnt as clear as it seems, evidently, because when Kalim arrives at the store he looks dumbfounded.

“Three eggs…I don’t think they sell eggs individually. I could ask though.”

______________________________

Maybe you eat me, perhaps you don't. Leave me alone too long and I'll get soggy, but either way I still float. To find the answer to the question you seek, find it in the grocery store starting this week!

A good day starts with a good morning’s breakfast. To stave away hunger pains, try brand new Jellogg’s Riddles and Rhymes Breakfast Cereal!

Crunchy, sweet, and high in fiber. One flavor is strawberry, the other honey!

Start your day right with Riddles and Rhymes! What might you discover?

______________________________

“Don’t worry about the groceries, honey, our neighbor Kalim is helping out!” Yuu says to their husband on the phone. In that split second, there’s a knock at the door. “I’ve got to go, sweetie. See you tonight!”

Yuu walks to the door, opening it to see Kalim standing there with a proud smile.

“I got everything on the list!” Kalim enters the house unceremoniously, and makes a beeline for the kitchen, “It was a lot, but I figured it out! I got everything exactly as you asked.

Yuu followed behind with a relieved expression, “Truly, you’re a lifesaver. Now, lets unpack.”

Kalim smiles as he begins to pull contents from the bag.

Out comes one, two, three eggs. Two grocery bags, filled with potatoes. some leeks, roughly about five. He got the pound of sugar and the four oranges right. Two individual strawberries. marshmallow fluff, maraschino cherries, and three lemons are also all there.

“Kalim?”

“Yeah?”

“What is this?” They gesture to the grocery hall. The laugh track plays, and startles Kalim.

“Who’s laughing?” He frowns and looks around, “Yuu? What’s going on?”

“What?” Yuu looks confused, “I…I wasn’t laughing at you? I wanted to know what went through your mind when getting this food.”

“Yuu, where are we?” Kalim stares at him, eyes wide and mouth tinted red, looking starkly bright against the greyscale world around them. “How did we get here?”

There’s an pause, a break, and then Yuu smiles, “We’re prepping for the housewarming party tonight, don’t you remember?”

“Yuu-” Kalim is cut off by another knock at the door.

Yuu smiles politely, “Hold that thought, please.” They go to the door and open it, revealing Jamil, hair slicked back and neatly dressed in a suit.

“Hello, are you Yuu? I was looking for Kalim. I came home early to find him gone.” Jamil smiles, tight and politely, and there's something…

“Yes, he is! You must be Jamil, right?” Yuu smiles and invites him in, guiding him to the kitchen, “He’s in here.”

Jamil smiles and walks in, takes one look at the groceries on the table, and groans dramatically. “Let me guess, Kalim asked to help, and you sent him to get groceries?”

“How’d you figure it out so fast, Jamil?” Kalim tilts his head at him

“You did this last week, but with our groceries.” The laugh track plays. “And I’ve been with you since childhood. You’d think I’d know you by now.” Jamil smiles fondly for a moment before clearing his throat, “Let me see that grocery list and your recipes, Prefect. I can whip this into shape for you. Your party is only in an hour, I believe?”

“An hour?!” Yuu looks shocked and searches for a clock, “I could have sworn I had three left! Oh dear, I need to get everything ready! You’re a real doll for helping me, I owe you.”

______________________

Azul and Idia sit across from each other in the world’s most nerve wracking game of go fish. Azul’s face betrays nothing as he stares at Idia over the cards. Neither one of them really wants to play right now, but maybe it’ll keep their minds off everything.

Ortho hovers nearby, peeking over Azul’s shoulder to see his cards. Azul, in an act of rare benevolence, doesn’t comment and instead tries to hold back a laugh as he reads Idia’s face ahead of him.

Suddenly, Ortho beeps and comes to Idia’s side of the table.

“Ortho?” Idia’s eyebrows knit in concern, “Is something wrong?”

“There’s a strange signal coming from the Ignihyde dorm room. Translating now.” Ortho’s eyes flick from side to side as both boys put their cards down. Ortho has their full, quiet attention.

Ortho’s chest begins to display a hologram of what appears to simply be an old sitcom.

Azul sighs in disappointment and Idia’s about to turn back to their game when Ortho says, “No, wait, look! That looks like our friends!”

Both boys attentions snap back to the hologram and, sure enough, it looks like Yuu, Kalim, and Jamil are in the kitchen together. Everything seems to be going wrong - there's an ambrosia salad missing some ingredients, there’s a plate of three deviled eggs, and the kitchen curtain is on fire. A laugh track plays in the background.

Azul is shocked into silence while Idia stares wide eyed.

“Can you trace the signal further?” Idia asks quickly, “I-I…We need them back. In my own dorm…”

______________________

The housewarming party manages to come together at the last second. There’s enough food for everyone, after some hasty and nervous whispering between Yuu and their husband.

It’s nearly time for everyone to go, and the show makes sure thats clear. There’s a hasty hum and tempo to the movements, nervousness radiating.

Kaylus caught a cold on his way home, the poor thing. He was caught in the rain, and was sneezing like crazy.

Unfortunately, this made his magic go wild.

It was a close call to try and hide the plates floating in the air before Jamil saw them, and when the chair began to move away from Kalim when he was about to sit down

It could have been funny, or sweet. Maybe saccharine. If the radio didn’t buzz to life, interrupting Mr. Sandman by the Chordettes as Yuu hummed.

“Yuu? Yuu? Are you there?” an electronic voice rang from the radio.

“Yuu, it’s Idia and Azul. Can you tell us where you are?”

Yuu stared at the radio, eyes wide. It was a lovely shade of bright blue, they noticed, near teal. They felt as though someone was squeezing their throat, though. Something was wrong.

“Who are you? How are you in my radio?”

“Yuu, it’s us. Your friends. You’ve been missing for a week, we’re gonna try and rescue you. Hang in there while we find yo-”

All of the sudden, the radio burst into flames.

Yuu turned around to see Kaylus in the doorway, a halfway realistic look of shock and worry on his face.

“Kaylus…Kaylus? Where am I? What did you do?!” Yuu shouted, eyes wide as color bled into the world around them.

Kaylus sighed, “I’ll simply have to restart this again, I suppose.”

“Wha-”

_________________

Who could deny such a doting husband? Kaylus had given Yuu everything, hadn't he? A home, a steady paycheck, all the time and space they needed to work on whatever they'd like, doting affection, and a ring on everything else.

Yuu hummed while doing the dishes, the song “Mr. Sandman” by the Chordettes crooning softly from the dial radio placed on the windowsill. It was a beautiful shade of cloud grey outside. The bees were buzzing near the pewter colored roses, and the children outside played with a bright ash colored ball in the grass next door. It was really shaping up to be the perfect day out.

Yuu turned when the kitchen door swung open and in walked Kaylus, smiling widely.

[fic-dumpster]

Deer in headlights | Short stories: The tattoos fiasco

Bonten x Reader | 1333 words

Warnings: imma start labeling them as crack fics, grammar mistakes, Can be read as a stand-alone fic, mediocre writing<it is a warning, innuendos. Idk

With your first paycheck from working with Bonten in hand, you were buzzing with excitement. The number of digits left you dizzy at first, and you even went to Kokonoi and asked if there was a mistake. Apparently, there wasn't.

So here you are walking in the lower shopping levels of their office. For the first time ever, you had money to spare. You really didn't need anything, but there was this feeling of emancipation. You can understand some of Kokonoi’s fondness for earning your own cash.

“What to get?” You already had a lot of stuff, thanks to everyone, especially Kakucho and Takeomi. Then as you walked past a makeup shop, a black object caught your eye. “Oooh!! I’m getting that.” with quick steps, you walk in, paid, and left. Now bag in hand, you went back upstairs.

You announced that you wanted to go home and if anyone was available. You avoided saying the word taxi or walk alone; the last time you tried, they almost lost their shit, and Kokonoi went on a two-hour lecture about your safety and their peace of mind.

Thankfully, Mochi said he could drive you. He needed to run some errands, and by errands, you knew what kind. Before you could leave, Mikey held your wrist.

“Remember that we’re all going tonight.” you nodded eagerly.

“Dinner, right?” you asked, just to confirm in case... They had other plans, and you’ve forgotten about them.

“Yeah, Rindo’s turn to pick a restaurant,” added Takeomi.

“Why?” asked Ran with a teasing tone, “you wanted something else?” he curved his fingers around your waist. Squeaking a no, you walked out. “You’re cute when you shy away!” Ran’s strong voice echoed after you.

Mochi laughed beside you, “You look like a tomato,” he commented.

-

Dropping you off, Mochi said he most likely won't make it for dinner, so don't include him on the table since some of his errands would take time. Then, you both said your goodbyes.

Now alone in your place, you threw your shoes at the entrance and rapidly changed to something more comfortable for the project you had in mind. Almost bouncing your way to your discarded bag, you took out your new acquisition.

You know how everyone has those moments of losing control and bad decisions, do things you might regret later. In your case, it can happen but not how anyone would expect. Yours was a lot more.... different since your definition of danger consisted in crossing the street without looking both ways.

After reading the instructions, charging the device, and preparing yourself, with a low buzzing sound coming from the black object, you began.

A few hours later, the sound of the door announced their arrival. You could hear Kokonoi nag to Sanzu about not leaving your shoes neatly in the entrance and Sanzu just laughing it off and doing the same thing as you.

“Y/N! We’re home!” shouted Kakucho.

“Welcome back! I’m in the living room!” you stood up and stretched. Sitting on the floor for so long hurt your back.

“I got food; come eat!” Rindo said as he walked with multiple takeout bags.

So you made your way to the kitchen.

“Y/N, Rindo brought soup, so I need-” Kokonoi never finished his sentence. A loud crash made everyone turn. Kokonoi had dropped one of your plates. He froze from the image in front of him. There you stood and... “What the hell did you do to yourself?!?” He was going to have a stroke.

At his scream, everyone looked your way. Their reactions differed. Takeomi choked on his smoke. Rindo, who was purring soup on a plate, got distracted by your new acquisitions that he ended up dumping half of it out of the container. Sanzu seemed to love the concept and went running towards you and began to analyze your skin. From your arms to your legs, he even crouched down to have a better look.

“Hmm,” hummed Mikey as he poked your skin. He didn't seem mad, just curious.

“Mikey, stop jabbing your fingers in her,” Kakucho tried to stop his boss, “Y/N, sweetheart. Why-” the poor man was about to cry, and you panicked. Kakucho has always been so soft to you.

“Oh! No, no! Kaku-chan! The tattoos are fake! They last a day or so.” you reassured him.

“Thank god,” breathed Ran, who had been very quiet until now.

“Y/N, those aren't tattoos,” added Takeomi from your open window.

“I know they look weird... The machine wasn't doing a very good job,” you acknowledged. And it was true; your skin had a variety of smudges from different colors.

“The decapitated hello-kitty is my favorite,” said Sanzu

Kokonoi looked in horror at the amount of ink. “The what?!”

“Like I said, it wasn't working! It only printed half of it,”

“But why?” Asked Mikey, still poking at your wannabe tattoos as Kakucho kept trying to stop his actions.

“Ohh hmm... I saw the other day,” you lowered your gaze, “Ran and Rindo’s tattoos and Uhm...” your voice slowly became quieter and quieter. “A-and I thought they looked pretty.”

At your words, Ran fastly pulled you on his lap. You tried scrambling away only to be stopped by a chest on your back.

Rindo clicked his tongue in disapproval, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Little Lady, here, likes our Tattoos, Rindo.” even en if Ran was talking to his brother, his intense gaze never left yours. “What should we do about that?” For a moment, the three of you forgot the rest was there.

“Would you like to touch them again...” Rindo guided your trembling hands inside his brother suit. “Like yesterday? I still remember. You know? Your grip is very tight,” that declaration had a double meaning. Ran and Rindo got a whimper out of you, and that’s when the other men present had enough.

Kakucho snatched your hand from Rindo’s hold. “That’s it; the food will get cold.”

“You horn dogs, behave.” Sanzu pulled Ran’s chair. As a result, you fell backward, only for Rindo to catch you.

“Sanzu, be careful!” shouted Kokonoi

“Yeah, Sanzu. Be careful; your jealousy is showing.” Rindo retorted.

A snickering Takeomi clapped a hand on Sanzu’s back. “Let it go; Mikey looks like he’s about to throw a tantrum.” His words were like a waking up call to everyone.

On cue, Bonten’s boss muttered, “I’m hungry; hurry up.” and following his words, your stomach grumbled out loud.

Everyone sat down. Although, you could see Rindo and Sanzu kicking each other under the de table.

“I’m helping you take all that,” Kokonoi’s voice interrupted the silence.

“It’s okay; they will be gone by tomorrow,” you explained once again.

“They look like bruises. We don't like that.” finished Kokonoi. You noticed he said we... And you looked around the table. All eyes corroborated Kokonoi’s statement.

Kakucho, who sat beside you, placed his hand on your thigh in a comforting manner.

-

“This was a horrible decision,” mumbled Kokonoi as he scrubbed a beheaded hello-kitty on your right leg.

“Yeah, kinda,” you agreed as your head popped up from the bubbles in the bathtub.

“I see you both are having fun,” sarcastically commented Rindo, who appeared at the door.

“Shut up,” you and Kokonoi let out at the same time.

“I’m thinking of managing your income from now on,” Kokonoi said while adding more soap to his washcloth.

“Good idea,” snickered Rindo, “no more spending five hundred in a tattoo printer.”

“It’s your fault! For looking all... All...-” your pouting face slowly submerged in the soapy water.

“All what? Hmm?” a teasing smile formed on Rindo’s lips. Rolling his sleeves, he dipped his hand in the bathtub. “Tell me, was it my tattoo?” he reached for your waist underwater.

“Yah! Stop! Yes! Your tattoo looks hot!” You screamed from the tickling on your sides.

“Rindo!! That's enough!” Shouted an annoyed and now wet Kokonoi.