Tumgik
#none of m are like. that big at all. but all of m still gain a handful of notes each month despite the fact that theyre Old already
allfryam · 7 months
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freshman 50 (freshman 15 part 2)
Jake was delusional. He had gained over 15 pounds in the few months he had been at college and he didn’t even know it. He still saw himself as the perfect image of a man. His smooth abs we’re completely gone and he had a bit of a belly covered in a small layer of peach fuzz. Even Ben had noticed jakes weight gain. And he liked it. Ben had a crush on Jake since the moment they became roommates. The perfect brown hair, the ocean blue eyes, and Jake only became hotter as his stomach grew.
Ben realized that Jake was completely oblivious to the fact that he was getting fat. Ben wanted to keep it that way. Whenever Jake would say something about feeling big or eating too much, Ben would shut that idea down by telling Jake how great he looked. He even convinced Jake that the washing machine on campus would shrink his clothes. “Ohhh. That explains why my pants won’t button” Jake would say. Ben would often take jake out for pizza or burgers. Jake would end up eating an entire pizza all by himself because Ben would claim he wasn’t hungry and jake hated wasting food.
by Christmas time, jake had a proper dad bod. His expanding stomach was beginning to hang over his belt and push tight against his biggest shirts. His belly wasn’t the only thing growing either. His ass had gotten significantly larger than before. It would even bounce when he walked. Ben loved it. His thighs had also become thicker. Even his perfect jawline was beginning to fade. When all of his classes stopped for winter break, jake wasn’t getting nearly as much exercise as usual. He would play video games in his underwear and have fast food delivered to his dorm.
jake never told anyone he was gay. He was way too embarrassed to let anyone know. He was even more embarrassed to tell anyone he had a crush on Ben. Ben was so nice to him and he had the perfect body. The dad bod kind of grew on him. One night, jake mustered up the courage to ask Ben out. Ben said yes of course. They would go on dates all the time. Ben would take him to dinner; and jake would devour everything in his sight.
one night, jake decided to step on the scale to make sure he still had his perfect body. 200 pounds. At first, jake was shocked. But he realized the scale must be broken. There was no way he had almost gained 50 pounds in the span of a single semester. He decided to ask ben. “ do I look fat?” “What? No way! You’ve got the perfect body dude”. “But the scale said I was 200 pounds”. “Yikes” ben thought to himself. He knew Jake was getting fat but not THAT fat. “The scale is probably just broken” ben said. “Yeah. You’re right”
holiday treats had a big impact on jakes body. He would go the the store and see fresh treats at the bakery and he couldn’t resist. He would come home with 10 different types of cookies, eggnog, sweet breads, and candies. All of it would be gone by the end of the week. One day he was really hungry and he finished a batch each of gingerbread cookies, chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, snickerdoodles, peanut butter cookies, brownies, a gallon and a half of eggnog, a loaf of sweet bread, a slice of cake, and a bag full of peppermint m&ms. Not to mention the McDonald’s he had for lunch. Ben didn’t think it was possible to eat that much and survive but here was Jake. Doing it with ease.
when new years came, Jake only had one resolution. Get bigger clothes. None of his clothes fit anymore. Even his baggy sweatpants were skin tight. Bens New Year’s resolution was to make Jake hit 250 pounds without him noticing. This would prove to be a lot easier than Ben thought because little did he know, in December alone, Jake had gained another 35 pounds. Jake was huge. His average dad bod was now a round ball of a stomach. Ben measured it in his sleep one time. 50 inches. Jake had let the peach fuzz on his stomach grow to a nice hairy gut. His ass was also getting to be huge. It would stretch out his pants like crazy and bounced like a wild balloon. His perfect jawline was now replaced by a proper double chin. Jake didn’t even have to look down for it to show. It was always there. Growing. Jakes perfect pecs we’re now large moobs that sat nicely on his large gut. Even Jakes hands were starting to get chubby. They were turning into little greedy sausages. Jakes entire body would move when he walked. He would get out of breath just walking to class. But Ben wasn’t done fattening him up. He had big plans.
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ihavethedreamies · 18 days
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Pool Boy (4) | Hueningkai
Huening Kai - TXT
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.5k o=o
Pairing: Hueningkai x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn without Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (she calls him precious), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! & M! Receiving), Fingering, Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)
Summary: Losing the chance of closing up the pool for the night, you take advantage of your car being the only one in the park lot… Some plot is there, but it so doesn’t matter.
Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still four-thousands words of just fucking so…
PS. Hyuka is my bias~
None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.
-> Yeonjun <-
-> Taehyun <-
-> Soobin <-
-> Beomgyu <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"You're so freaking cute…" You muttered and his head shot up to gape at you.
"What?"
"What?"
"I-," You were about to take a bite and pretend you didn't say anything. You had been flirting with Hyuka for a few days now, but it seemed he wasn't picking up what you were putting down. Maybe you were wrong because he put his sandwich down and got up from the stool. Wondering what he was doing, you set your fork down. He came closer and you tried to stay relaxed when he went to stand between your legs. He was big, leaning over you, thick thighs, and broad shoulders. His face was so freaking sweet, a stark comparison. Kai leaned forward and you let him do what he wanted. A small kiss pressed to your cheek, then another at the corner of your mouth. You smiled at the gentleness, his big hands coming to cup your jaw softly. Right before he could finally press his lips to yours-
"Uh?" Someone cleared their throat at the front office entrance, and he pulled back aggressively. The coworker smiled, her eyes mischievous.
"I won't tell but keep an eye out." She winked and left.
"Don't worry about it Hyuka." You got off the stool, laying your hand on his shoulder. When his eyes went back to you, they softened back to what you normally saw, the fear gone. You smiled, bringing your hands to play with his hair, fingers rubbing at the back of his neck. His hands came to your waist, and he turned pink when your breasts squished into him. Hyuka nuzzled your ear, pressing a kiss to your hair.
"Can we eat?" he muttered, and you laughed and nodded, pulling back. Before he let go, he laid another soft peck to your forehead. You talked about random things, mostly the weird things his friends do, as you ate. Not too soon after you both finished, guests started to come again after the lunch break. While you were helping a group of high school girls get some passes, they were giggling and flirting with Hyuka. Of course they were, look at him. You didn't know though if he was that clueless about flirting or if he was remaining professional.
"Is he your boyfriend?" one of them asked you quietly as you slipped the bracelet on her.
"No. But he is too old for you." You assured her. She was probably fifteen, sixteen at the most. She clicked her tongue, nodding as she resolved that fact to herself. They giggled and waved as they entered the pool, and he sat down with a sigh.
"Do you have girls flirt with you a lot?" you asked him, and he shook his head, looking tired.
"Not really. Normally I'm with my hyungs, so they get more of the attention. I'm a lot shyer in comparison so…"
"Well, their loss is my gain." You went to him that time, standing between his legs. Since he was sitting, you were eye level like this. Huffing in surprise, he had wrapped his arms around you boldly, pulling you closer to him. His hands were still respectful, sitting around your lower ribs, and they shook a bit. Hyuka wasn't used to being more forward, but he felt more confident with you. He took the slight pink on your cheeks as a good sign, hugging you even closer and resting his head in the crook of your neck. The boy just held you like that and you wanted to cry at how cute he was. Car doors shutting pulled you both back to reality and you had to separate so you could assist more patrons. As the shift went on, you both exchanged little displays of affection. The sweetest one was when you were both sitting there, looking at your phones quietly, he pulled his stool to be right next to you instead of across. His head rested on your shoulder, and you cooed, kissing the crown of his head. A bit later you were standing at the register, counting through change.
"Hi, noona." Hyuka wrapped his arms around you once again, hugging you from behind. He rested his cheek on your head, one of his hands going to your tummy. You smiled giddily, pressing your lips together to try and hide it, his hand rubbing circles over your stomach. The move was so sweet, but your stomach was sensitive, and when his hand rested over your belly button, you had to shift. The lower stomach wasn't a traditional erogenous zone, but it was for you. Also, being completely surrounded by his warmth, he also smelled really good, it was hard to not get excited. He pressed closer and your cunt clenched the fabric of your panties sticking to your folds. Glancing at the time, you grumbled, not wanting to wait two more hours for closing.
"Hyuka." you prompted, and he hummed sleepily.
"I need you to let go or I'm going to burst." you whispered, and he startled, pulling away.
"Sorry!" He backed up and you smiled.
"I'll be right back!" You promised, scurrying off to the bathroom. He probably assumed you met your bladder, so you took the chance. You smiled at some patrons as you walked past them to get to the private stall. The bathroom in the back office was probably open, but you weren't for sure and needed to cool off immediately. Shutting the door, you locked it, going to the sink, you splashed cold water on your face. You sighed, grabbing some paper towels, and drying your face. Letting out another more aggressive sigh, you glared at yourself in the mirror.
"Two more hours." You nodded, determined. Going back out you tried to keep your mind on other things but made no move to prevent Hyuka's skinship. You had learned that's what they called it, and you loved the term.
"I'll lock up." One of your coworkers nodded at you in passing and you shook your head.
"Its fine, I can do it!" You insisted, it was normally what you did anyway.
"Just go." He insisted and you huffed in annoyance.
"It's fine, noona." Hyuka whispered and you looked at him. He nodded, trying to convey something unspoken through his look. You nodded, almost disappointed. Was he just going to give up and leave you for the night, try again later? Sneaking past the guy, you gathered your things and met Hyuka at the door.
"Bye." You called to him hastily, and you both scurried to leave. Not glancing back, you heard him pull the shutter for the front counter closed, heading for your car. You parked in the very back of the parking lot, so you didn't hog access for the pool customers. You were even able to park near a tree that kind of shaded your car from the blazing sun. Said sun was starting to set and you stopped at the vehicle, turning to the boy. That was when you got an idea.
"Get in. The back." you told him, and he did so without question or hesitation. Getting in the front yourself, you started the car and cranked the air conditioning, it was hot as balls in the car. Glancing back to the pool shelter, you figured it was far enough away, so you scurried back out and joined Hyuka in the back.
"This okay?" You made sure with him, and he nodded, a bit red.
"If you are." He leaned in slowly and you giggled.
"Of course-" His lips met yours. It started slow; you could tell he was unsure. You weren't sure why though; he was doing very well. You moaned softly to let him know. Smiling against his lips, his hand went to your neck and pulled you even closer. Barely pulling back, still brushing his soft lips over your chapped ones, you breathed harder. Finally kissing you again, it was even more intense than before, and when he sighed you took the chance to sneak your tongue into his mouth. Perfectly content to take the reins, you didn't expect him to fight back against you. His tongue wrapped around yours deftly, and he tipped your head the opposite of his to deepen it further. You barely separated to suck in more air, then went back in. You had no idea how long you two made out, eventually you ended up straddling his lap, hands messing his hair. Despite the heat of the act, his hands stayed on your waist, the furthest down they went was to loop his fingers through your belt loops. Your shorts were high waisted as well, but you wanted him to go lower. Running the tip of your tongue over his teeth, tasting his whole mouth, your hands brushed over his, moving them down. He whined a tad when you pressed, but eagerly shoved his hands in your back pockets, and dug his fingers in. You keened, the strength there as well as his taste and warmth made your head swim. The cold blast of air at your back did nothing to cool you off and you whimpered when his lips left yours. Both of your lips were swollen and red, a trail of saliva connecting your mouths still.
"What do you want to do next, precious?" You both were panting.
"Turn around?" His voice was softer than normal, tinged with nerves still, as if he hadn't just tried to swallow your tongue. You nodded with a hum, doing so, and settling in his lap. You felt his hardened cock straining against his jeans at your back, but you just laid on him, wanting him to do what he wished. One arm wrapped around your middle, his hand once against resting on your stomach. The other was shaking a bit, but he brought it to the front of your shorts. He pressed two fingers right above your clit and you moaned a bit. When his fingers slid down slightly, hitting your nub, you flinched hard, moaning again.
"You're wet." He observed quietly and you weren't too surprised. Even with the barrier of your panties and the denim of your pants, he could still feel it.
"Can I?"
"Do whatever, precious." You ensured and you could hear him swallow. He fiddled with the button but was able to get it open with one hand, and he pulled the zipper down. His hands were warm as the ones on your tummy snuck under your shirt to rub the soft skin of your belly. The other buried into your panties so he could stroke his index and middle finger through your cunt. You whined and he marveled at the slick pouring from your core.
"Noona~" He cooed, his nose brushing at the back of your ear.
"There." you told him when the pad of his finger hit your clit. It seemed he was more knowledgeable than you first estimated. You sighed as he didn't even hesitate to bury his long finger into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit. Your body twitched and your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder. You were so wound up, even just his slight touches made you shiver. A second finger joined his first and he scissored them against your fluttering walls.
"Here?" He made sure, one finger pressing against the rough patch in your cunt, and you nodded, gasping. The pressure increased and he rubbed and wiggled his fingers inside you. His palm brushed over your clit, and he played you like a guitar. You made noises as well, whining and moaning, panting, and sighing.
"H-Hyuka!" It was like you couldn't breathe, your orgasm approaching so fast. Normally just fingers couldn't make you feel that way, so either he was really that good or you were just that horny.
"Cum, noona." His voice lowered, right in your ear, and you obeyed. His eyes widened as your cunt clenched his fingers, he didn't think you could get any tighter. He desperately wanted to know how you would feel around his cock. Though, he was worried he wouldn’t last too long. As the waves calmed down, he kissed over your neck and once you were done twitching, he pulled his hand away. He marveled at the shine and amount of your release, and you watched him bring his hand to his mouth, flicking his tongue to taste. Kai groaned and immediately swallowed both fingers to suck your juice from them.
"Fuck…" he whispered and you chuckled a bit.
"Can I…?" His voice was still quiet, but it was more confident. You let him direct your movement into the place where he wanted you. Luckily, you were quite small, and your car was spacious, so when he laid you on the center console, the seats were able to slot in the dip of your waist. Not tightly, they held you somewhat in place, and at least the console was padded. You had him pass a blanket you kept in the back seat, and you rolled it, resting your head on it by the radio controls. It was more comfortable than you thought it would be. His hands were still shaking some, but they acted fast, completely undoing your pants, and helping you remove them. He swallowed hard before you led him to remove your panties as well. When the younger man could finally see your bare cunt, shining with your arousal, he groaned.
Large and strong hands gripped your hips and you yiped when he shoved you further back, the blanket preventing you from hitting your head. Unfortunately for him being so tall, he still had to bend a bit uncomfortably, but your whole body twitched when his tongue flicked over your clit. You were glad the A/C was blowing straight on you, because he dove back in, licking over your cunt once then shoving his whole tongue inside. His nose brushed against your clit perfectly and his strong hands held your thighs apart, your muscles twitching under his grip. He placed his hands carefully on your thighs, not wanting to hurt you, just to hold them still. You would have preferred him to be rougher, but in the moment, you were too focused on his mouth on you. Wanting to whimper in protest when his tongue left your core, it instead swirled your button, and his two fingers went back in. You sighed and swore slightly when he pressed against your spot hard, smirking at your little flinch. He was gaining confidence the more you moaned and mewled, so you exaggerated just a tad. More so you didn't hide it any. A car door slammed and you both startled, he pulled away and you sat up to look out the window. It was the coworker getting into his car that you hoped was far enough away that he couldn't see. He was a good distance away, the sound had just echoed through the empty lot. He also didn't need to drive past to leave. Still, you both waited to make sure, and once he was gone, you rested back.
"I'm sorry, noona. I can't wait." He pulled his fingers out and helped you sit up. Smiling, you removed your top and let him pull you back to his lap. Trying not to laugh, he was struggling to undo your bra, so you reached around back to help.
"Fuck." Hearing his soft voice swear like that was cuter than anything, but the look on his face was anything but cute. Kai brought you back down to his lips and your hands met his on the button to his jeans. You gasped a bit when your hands reached in to pull his cock out. Whatever he was getting fed didn't just make his body big. Groaning, his hands gripped your bare ass, hauling you to grind your slick cunt on his dick. You both sighed at the feeling.
"Have you done this before, precious?" you asked him. He was a bit embarrassed that you were just starting at his cock like that, enthralled.
"Um…no. Just, um, touching…" He drifted off.
"You want my pussy or my mouth first?" you asked next, kissing his cheek, then jaw, and down his neck, your hands creeping under his shirt. When you pulled back aggressively, he was a bit shocked, but your hands were rapidly trying to get his shirt off. You let out a groan as he let you rip the garment off. Why the hell was he hiding his body when it looked like that? Not as harshly defined as some others, there was clearly muscle there. He blushed, goosebumps rising on his skin as your soft and small hands wandered his torso.
"Noona?" His voice was rougher than before, and when your eyes met his, they were sharper than before. Not overly so, but he looked more determined.
"Oh, uh-"
"I want your pussy, then I want your mouth." He couldn't meet your eye, trying to stay confident and bold. Instead, his eyes ran over your naked form.
"If that's what you want, precious." You smiled and nearly yelped when he easily lifted you, his mouth sealing around your nipple and the tip of his cock prodding your cunt. He groaned at the wet heat on him, his mouth sucking on your peak. While his mouth on your tits felt good, you needed him to split you open, and you knew he would. Slowly you began to sink down, and your breath hitched at the stretch. Even with how wet you were from the orgasm you had on his fingers, he was just that big and seared through you with a pleasant burn.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You repeated, your eyes clenching shut. You tried to relax, knowing that he hadn't done this before, and you didn't want him to cum right away. More for his pride than your pleasure. Considering you had already came, you shouldn't have been so close, but his fat cock felt so good. You DEFINITELY would need a new vibrator, if one would ever work again. Hyuka's shoulders were shaking a bit at the vice of your cunt. His arms held you tight, helping you sheathe his dick inside you, and he was worried you were hurting.
"Is it too much?" he asked, and you shook your head.
"Fuck, no, it’s too good." You panted, resting your now sweaty forehead in the crook of his neck. He was relieved by this and when he finally bottomed out, you both shuddered. It was hard for him to not start pumping his hips up into you, and you were glad, needing to get used to him more. He couldn't believe how wet you were, it seemed you slicked up easier and more so than normal. Not that either of you were complaining.
"H-Hyuka~" You moaning his name was enough to make his head swim.
"Noona, (Y/N), I can't hold back-" He grunted, and you shivered, but nodded your head.
"Okay, you can." You wanted to sit up and move your hips yourself, but you suddenly had no strength. Not only was your body not working, neither was your brain. You were even about to repeatedly thank Kai for rearranging your guts, and that was before he had even moved.
"Fuck-" He groaned, and his hips jumped, his arms helping you bounce as well. Immediately you threw your head back, your back arched and you fell apart again. He grunted as you squeezed him even tighter, but he kept going. You keened as he pounded through your orgasm, which seemed to last for hours. Your nails had dug into the skin of his shoulders and chest, and he was gripping bruises into your hips. Having no strength, you slumped to lay on him.
"Hold on…" He tried to slow down, and he adjusted you to sit up, before laying you back down onto the center console. Your head found the blanket there still and he was able to sit up more. His cock almost left you when he adjusted himself, his knee finding the floor of your car and the other was up on the seat. When he got the right leverage, he gave a full thrust and you nearly screamed. Your car was most likely visibly shaking as he blew your back out. He smiled smugly as your eyes, unfocused, stared at nothing, your hands loosely holding on to the lip of your dashboard. Every time he pulled back you whimpered, and each thrust back in made you yipe. So as to avoid bruising your thighs, he gripped right under your knees. The younger man was more aware of your surroundings than you and he was proud at how much he made the vehicle shake. There was so much wet dripping from your cunt it was making a mess of your back seat and the front of his pants. He had felt you clench around him several times; pretty sure they were small orgasms he just kept plowing through. Both of you were surprised at his endurance and his eyes flashed to the clock of your radio. Most men couldn't last nearly as long, let alone those so inexperienced. It helped that he focused more on your expressions and body's reactions than the sensations wracking through him.
"Ah~ (Y/N), can I come inside?" He had a feeling you would say yes, but he had to make sure.
"Plea~se!" You mewled and he was shocked by how aroused he was by the tears flowing over your cheeks as well as the whining tone your voice had adopted.
"Ah, noona!" He groaned, clenching his jaw tight and gave another hard thrust, then spilled inside of you. The heat flowing inside of you triggered a much stronger orgasm from you. Hyuka furrowed his brow, feeling a bit guilty as your squirting cunt and his cum overflowing out of you messed your car even further. He was even a bit shocked at the amount he pumped you with, but also wondered how much of the thick liquid was from you. You were both panting as the waves died, you looked so tired, but he was still hard. He hadn't pulled out, but your sanity was returning.
"My mouth next?" He almost didn't catch your breathy question, but he nodded.
"Sit back." You instructed and he did so. Leaning over the driver’s seat from where you were on the center console, you were able to press the lever under the seat and it shot all the way up to the steering wheel. This left a nice big space in front of him, and you shakily sat up. He huffed a laugh and helped you as you kneeled before him. While he didn't understand why you moaned as your lips sealed around the head of his dick, he sighed at the feeling. It was definitely different than your cunt, but it was just as hot and wet. Your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and your jaw protested as you got the whole tip inside. The taste of his cum mixed with yours was intoxicating and he saw for himself just how much you liked to swallow cock. His breathing picked up, but he could hold back his moans, watching his dick bury deeper into your mouth. He finally couldn't hold back his noises anymore when you kept descending even after the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.
"N-noona~" His head flopped back onto the headrest; your throat fluttered when you gagged a bit. Your own breath was harsh through your nose, bobbing your head, sucking, and licking what you could and stroking the rest. Even if he wanted to fuck your face, it would be too hard in the car, so you decided next time. He would have to be gentler though than when he was railing you into the center console. Another whine vibrated around his dick and his hands came to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just running through the soft strands.
"You're so good." He praised softly and you hummed back. His brow furrowed, his hips jumping up a bit, he was close. You couldn't wait to swallow his cum, you weren't sure if he tasted good because your brain was mush or if it really just did. Later you would joke that just proved how sweet he was.
"Can I cum down your throat?" He grunted, trying to hold back. When your big teary eyes met his, he gasped, and you buried him as deep as you could get him. Swallowing over and over, he gave you more than even when he came inside your cunt. Even when you had to pull off for air, little droplets rolled down the shaft of his cock. Needing to swallow a few extra times, you finally cleaned him off with your tongue. He was slowly getting softer and looked around your car.
"Noona?"
"Sticky~" You got out, reaching behind you to the cup holder. The water in the plastic bottle was hot from the sun, but at least it helped.
"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding nearly panicked. Your face was red and blotchy, sweat flowing from your temple. Your bare chest heaved still; he reached a hand to wipe the tears off your face with his thumbs.
"Never better." You cooed, giving him a wink. Sitting up higher on your knees, you kissed his cheek, and he sighed in relief.
"I didn't hurt you?"
"No, precious. You did so good~" You assured, and he let out a slightly bashful laugh.
"I did?" He chuckled and he was so freaking cute despite what he just did.
"Think you dislodged a kidney." You joked, rubbing your side and his face fell.
"I'm joking!" You laughed and he sighed, laughing himself.
"Let me get dressed and I'll drive you home." You patted his thigh still covered by his pants. That's when you saw the drying stain of your release and his on his pants.
"Oh, jeez." You cringed and he waved it off.
"I can tie my sweatshirt around my waist." he told you, grabbing his bag.
"Um, but…" You followed his eyes to the much bigger stain and globs on the floor of your car. Not having leather seats was not great for that kind of situation. You scoffed at the mess, realizing you would need your roommates help to clean it most likely. You grabbed his shirt, looking it over to make sure it wasn't messy, then he put it back on. Carefully, you got dressed yourself, trying to hide out of view despite no one being around. Adjusting the A/C, you rolled the windows down as you pulled out of the parking lot to air the car out. When you pulled up in front of his apartment building, you kissed him cheek and whispered, "thanks for fucking me in my car." You teased and his face bloomed red, before he was able to give you a cocky smirk.
"Of course, noona. I'll be sure to do it again."
-> Yeonjun <-
-> Taehyun <-
-> Soobin <-
-> Beomgyu <-
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doberbutts · 1 year
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I mean this is a pretty hot take but I think until y'all can sit down and actually provide examples of what you mean by "privilege" instead of using the word as a means of referring to the nebulous idea that some people have it better and its Their Fault, there will continue to be absolutely braindead takes about who holds what privilege and how it conflicts with actual first-hand experience.
That's why, when I ask what male privilege I was apparently either born with or received immediately upon coming out, I get crickets.
When we talk about male privilege, we talk about getting paid more. We talk about getting hired more, and into higher-paying jobs more. We talk about being able to vote and drive and have credit cards and bank accounts. We talk about reproductive freedom and body autonomy. We talk about rape statistics, domestic violence, and other forms of violent crime. We talk about immigration and citizenship status and human trafficking. We talk about power dynamics in relationships. We talk about society's expectations for gender roles.
There's two big problems with this:
Unless a trans man is completely binary, fully stealth, and has burned every trace of his past, almost none of this is accessible to him. Trans men don't get paid more unless their gender marker is M, there's no mention of ever being anything but cisgender, and they're completely stealth. They don't get hired more, unless these things are true. Many lived lives being discouraged from chasing higher paying jobs such as STEM fields due to being seen as girls, so they're not going into these jobs more either. Similarly with voting- when I registered to vote I was non-passing, with my legal name and gender marker. To the voting office, I was a woman. To my credit card company, who has never seen my face, I'm *still* a woman, despite passing most of the time. To my bank account, which I've had since I was 8, I've never not been a woman. When I took my driver's test, I was treated as a woman.
When I asked for a hysterectomy at 20, I was told not until I was over 30, had a minimum of two children, or had a husband to sign off on it. Just like a woman. When I whacked my head as a kid and was rushed to the doctor, the doctor specifically said if I was a boy he wouldn't have bothered stitching but a girl can't have scars on her face *while he was stitching my forehead back together*. I had to fight to be allowed to cut my long hair. I had to fight to be allowed to take care of it by myself.
I have needed to leave relationships when I realized I was with a man that would hurt me for his gain. I've been assaulted by my peers for being a black woman or a black girl in a space that I was not wanted.
I was raised with the expectation that I would be a mother to a large family with a husband that kept me pregnant and likely staying at home like a typical tradwife. I was punished, physically, mentally, emotionally, socially for rejecting that life. I lost literally all my social group from before I came out. I lost a good chunk of family members too, and the ones I have left are... trying, but not perfect.
And:
Other marginalized men are also often denied access to these things either. White men might be paid more, but white women make more than men of any other race. White men might be hired more, but "Rachel" is more likely to get a call back than "Rafael". White men are more likely to be in a STEM position, but tell me when the last time you saw a Native doctor. It may have been *legal* for racially marginalized men to vote, but those who did not speak English had no ability to do so until 45 years *after* white women had the right to vote (and technically it took another 10 years for translations to actually be provided). Banks and credit companies and driver's tests and mortgage brokers and more are *known* to discriminate, between barely-legal remnants of redlining to outright illegal discrimination because they know they can get away with it.
Black and Native children are taken from their birth families and placed into foster care and adoptive homes daily due to state-sponsered genocide. It's more than just the mother that's affected by this. Black men are largely targeted by stop-and-frisk policing policies that exist to do nothing except harass and assault them for just existing in a place, and are an extreme body violation.
New studies show that men experience rape and domestic violence at roughly the equivilant rate as women, but reporting is obscenely low due to social pressures and rigid gendering of victim vs abuser policies. The demographic with the highest rate of murder victims is black men.
Single, childless adult men are not allowed to immigrate to multiple countries, including the US, on refugee status. Men of marginalized races- largely latine and asian- are trafficked by largescale construction companies and then deported or abandoned when no longer needed.
Disabled men are killed or abandoned regularly by their able-bodied partners who got tired of dealing with them.
I know more than one man who feels trapped into a place where he cannot, ever, show any emotion besides horny, hungry, or angry as a direct result of strict gender roles being pushed on him. I know more than one man who has tried to take his own life because of it.
I know more than one man who has succeeded.
And I gotta be honest the further I get in transition and the more I pass the more I think that being a man... also kinda sucks. Like it sucked when I was a woman. Doesn't really feel like it sucks less as a man. Seems to me like society treats both of these pretty poorly and I was told the grass was way greener on this side and it's, uh, not. Not really. Not when you start making cis male friends and start realizing that a lot of these guys had a lot of the same experiences you grew up being told was part of a woman's life.
And I'm not saying that these guys don't have interactions where life is better for them because they're men. Of course they do. That's patriarchy for you. But I do think it's difficult to have a "male privilege" argument when people try to argue on a 1-to-1 basis and it just straight up doesn't work like that.
And I know a lot of what I'm saying ties back to the theory of intersectionality, that this can't flatten nuance like this is directly tied to the fact that a white woman, a native woman, an asian woman, a black man, a latino man, and an arabic man, are all going to have WILDLY different experiences that you can't just "well you're [gender] so you don't experience [harm]" about because it's blatantly untrue. Especially if you continue to add marginalizations, like immigration status, religion, sexuality, transition, language, and more.
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Fuck dude that was heavy. Your story cheater. Damn. That's actually a big fear of mine loving someone and then falling out of love. Having something special and then loosing it.
Can you do an alt, kinda based of the prompt from cheater, where the reader is madly in love with Jenna on set and the viewers are all over the internet about the chemistry they see. And the directors who are not shitheads decide to make the characters an unofficial couple and give them a kiss scene and then reader is like, yep I love her and confesses. Now I'm not sure how Jenna would react to this entire thing she's still her own person, so weather you think she would fall for the reader or reject them. Do whatever you see fit.
I’ve Been Waiting
Word count: 3.3K
Summary: request above
Warnings: maybe slight angst?
Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader
———
You weren’t that big of an actress, you have never been. Your roles were side roles most of the times and even though you sent auditions here and then you never got picked, this was until you were younger. Eventually though you grew up and started getting better roles. At age 19 you had already done a couple movies and had gained a little following, though not enough to have paparazzi stalking you or to get called on red carpets or to movie premieres, and even though you wanted to be recognized more, you knew you had to keep these “peaceful moments” close, because they’d never come back. Your manager was a great guy and even though you had wanted to send auditions everywhere, he always stopped you because he knew the directors or the movie company and either the actors were treated badly, or it didn’t pay enough.
Recently though you started sending auditions for Netflix shows, knowing that they paid well and that they welcomed new or unknown faces. It was the best shot you had at getting more recognition, plus, working for netflix was the best way to reach younger people. You auditioned for a few roles, and you heard back from only one. Tim burton in person had chosen you to act in series, Wednesday, for season 2. You didn’t know who you would play yet, but the fact that you’d be working for him, was enough to make you happy. A couple weeks later you got your first scripts, and you immediately went through it. Your character, Athena, was a main one, and it would be Wednesday’s girlfriend. You hadn’t watched the show, but you had heard of it from your best friend, Emma Myers. She acted in that show and had been trying to make you watch it forever but you never had time, and you figured that this was the perfect time to text her.
You: hey M&M! Wanna hear the news?👀
M&M💕: SHUT UP I HEARD!!!!!! I’m so excited, I literally can’t wait for you to meet everyone else!!
You: I’m honestly scared though! I mean, I don’t know who the others actors are but I’m sure they’re more experienced than me! I’m gonna suck
M&M💕: nooooo don’t worry! They’re all really nice and sweet, I’m sure you’ll love them! And you need to watch season 1 before coming here!!!
You never found the time to watch it, but you took a look and memorized the scripts. Wednesday sure was an intriguing girl, but your character was way too stubborn to give up on her the first chance she got. Wednesday was a softie deep down and only Enid and Athena saw that. It took your character a while to figure that out, but to her, Wednesday was as easy to read as a book, given that Athena’s ability was to read minds. She knew what everyone thought, she knew everything about everyone. Finally, after a couple months you were on your flight to Romania. You were in first class or course and you didn’t have to hide from paparazzis because there were none for you… of course not yet. The flight was incredibly long and extremely boring, but when you arrived there were a lot of paparazzis.
Not for you though. They were around Emma, who had come pick you up. As soon as she saw you she immediately came your way and hugged you. “Hi M&M!” You smiled and hugged her back tightly, paparazzis shooting pictures from afar, obviously having to keep distances. “I missed you so much (Y/N)! Come on let’s go to the car and we can talk more in there” she said, you gave her a smile and a nod before the two of you headed to the luxurious VIP car with darkened windows, something you weren’t used to yet, but soon enough you were heading to the set of Wednesday. “So, how was the flight?” Emma asked. “Boring. But what flight isn’t?” You laughed and she did the same “what about you? How have you been?” She smiled and snuggled up to you, she has always been very affectionate towards you. “I’m good! Been missing my best friend but now it feels so weird that we get to act together! Oooh wait till you meet the others” she said smiling.
You soon arrived on set and just like Emma had expected, everyone was in a trailer together playing cards. She took you to your trailer to put down your stuff, before going to the trailer everyone else was in. “So… expect lots of questions, they’re really curious people… oh! Wait till you meet Jenna, she’s the one who plays Wednesday. She’s amazing-“ you interrupted her “Emma, you’re more excited than I am” you giggled and soon enough you walked in the trailer. “Hey everyone! This is (Y/N), our new cast mate” everyone waves at you, but a certain brunette caught your eyes. The black hair, brown eyes… she must be Jenna, the girl who plays Wednesday. She was stunning, to say the least. She smiled back at you and waved “Hi everyone… it’s really good to be here. Sorry for how I look but you know, flights” you giggled and scratched your neck.
“Oh don’t worry! It’s not a problem, it’s okay to feel comfortable. I mean look at us.” Some boy said. Everyone was actually dressed pretty comfortably so it was okay. “So, they’re Jenna, Percy, Naomi, Joy, Johnna and Georgie.” You nodded, already having forgotten the name. “It’s gonna take me a while to remember y’alls name, but it’s alright.” Everyone giggled again, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jenna. She was… just something else, you have never seen someone as pretty as her “so… how’s it feel to be Wednesday’s love interest?” It was Jenna who asked, as you all sat down round the table. “I mean… I haven’t watched the first season, but from what I read-“ “YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED SEASON ONE?!?!!” Emma yelled in your ears. “Jesus Emma no I haven’t, I thought I told you-“ Emma decided it would be a great choice to interrupt you again. “Okay everyone, I don’t care what you want to do but erase that, we’re watching season one now”
That’s how you ended up binge watching season 1 of Wednesday that same night, and guess were you were sitting? Right next to Jenna. You had to admit she did make you a little bit nervous. Just a little bit, she was so pretty and she seemed so pure and sweet, you HAD to get to know her better. First episode started and when Wednesday said “I’d never fall in love” you quickly said “u-uh! You’ll fall in love with me next season don’t you worry” you said, making everyone giggle. Jenna didn’t usually like watching herself on screen, but you seemed so into it, she didn’t mind. Then the final episode… “OH YES ENID! GO SAVE MY FUTURE GIRLFRIEND!” You yelled, once again everyone laughed, Jenna included. They all liked how you seemed confident with yourself and no one saw it but Jenna blushed at what you said.
The show was finished soon “woah. This was a roller coaster of emotions. It was so good! Now I can’t wait to see who’s the stalker” you said and really thought about it. Curiosity was killing everyone in the room, even if no one yet knew who it would be. “Now tell us a bit about yourself” Percy asked. “What movies did you do?” “Oh… uhm you don’t want to see my movies” you said, color rushing to your face as your cheeks turned red “I only had side roles, secondary characters… I never got more than a line or two. This is my first important project and I have to be honest it feels weird to be here with y’all… I actually think I saw some of you in movies… Jenna I’m sure that I saw you in “The fallout”, you played Vada right?” You asked her, and she nodded happily. “God I loved that movie! So you know Maddie! I was actually on dance moms with her, though I stopped dancing like 5-6 years ago.” You said and watched Jenna’s jaw fall. “That’s where I saw you! You looked so familiar!” You two spent the night talking with them, getting to know them and it was useless to say that y’all immediately clicked together.
Eventually filming started, and you grew closer with everyone, especially with Jenna. Emma was also friends with her and it was hard to see the three of you separated from each other. Stories on instagram of the three of you were a daily thing and even though Jenna wasn’t the social type, she didn’t mind that. Talking again about the filming, you still had to get used to everything, you never had hair and make up done this good, you never acted as a main character before and it was so good to be given this kind of attention for once. However, going forward with filming you later found out that in this season, Wednesday and Athena wouldn’t be together yet, but it served as a way to create chemistry within the two characters, with teasing, flirting and such, which only confirmed that there’d be a third season and that you’d be in it, to finally give Wednesday a couple.
When season two aired, you knew you had reached your dream. You finally had fans of yours, you were finally getting called on red carpets, premieres and people wanted to take photos of you and with you. Of course fans had noticed the chemistry within Athena and Wednesday… but also within you and Jenna. The tension between the two of you has always been so thin to cut. Of course you had told Emma about your so obvious crush on Jenna, and neither you or her ever found out if she liked you back, but it was also obvious that Jenna had grown quite attached to you, sitting on your legs, cuddling up to you… and all of this made you always gay panic. Finally, it was time for the Wednesday season 2 premiere. Your dress matching Jenna’s and paparazzis were so eager to take your pictures and couple pictures with Jenna. You looked at her with heart eyes while she was oblivious of it all, even your fans had figured out you liked her.
With time, you got called on interviews as well, with her and with the rest of the cast. They always had you sitting next to Jenna, and you couldn’t be happier, yet you were always so nervous, especially with the way she looked at you when you answered to questions. You always tried not to brush your hands with her, and you kept your own in your lap, but in this particular interview it was hard, as the couch you two were sitting on was pretty tight. “So, (Y/N), Jenna, you may know that fans noticed that there is a lot of chemistry between your characters. Is there anything you can spoil us about next season?” You smiled as Jenna passed you her microphone, hands touching as your cheeks briefly flushed. “Ooh let me see. So we haven’t seen any script yet, but we do know something. The chemistry between Wednesday and Athena will definitely be stronger and more… palpable.” You nodded, happy with your choice of words as the interviewer nodded.
Then the interviewer moved her attention to Jenna. “So, Jenna, there’s definitely a lot of chemistry between Athena and Wednesday, but people also noticed chemistry between you two in real life. You look like you’re a couple, is that true?” Jenna giggled and you blushed, covering your face “well uhm-“ Jenna turned to look at you. “We bonded really quickly actually. It’s like we were meant to be friends, really good friends. I literally cannot be without her or Emma, they’re the best people I know.” Jenna said and nodded. Friends. That’s what you were to her, a friend. Maybe she said it for the cameras, or maybe it was really true, that she only saw you as a friend. You had to admit, this revelation hurt you deeply. If this was really true, you knew you had to suppress your feelings for her.
For weeks you tried to avoid her, but it was incredibly hard. Jenna’s love language was physical contact, and even if you two were just friends, she hugged you and snuggled up to you a lot. And you let her, of course you did. But you avoided having deep conversations with her about anything, but luckily she didn’t notice… Emma did though. So one night when only you and her were together, she decided to confront you about it. “(Y/N) you’re in love with her! If you don’t tell her it’ll be too late, you need to tell her NOW!” She said, but you shook your head, sighing “Emma she clearly said she sees me as a good friend, nothing more, nothing less and-“ she interrupted you. Now you were used to this, she did this all the time “but that was an interview! I’m sure she actually likes you a lot” she said and you shook your head. “If she gives me more signals, I’ll tell her.”
More time passed and you parted ways, everyone had other projects to care for and it was fine with you, at least you had a little of freedom, you didn’t have to think about your feelings for Jenna, right? Nope, wrong. She’d text you every day. Even privately! She asked for videocalls which you couldn’t deny, and you found yourself falling harder for her, if that was even possible. The situation went on like this until it was finally time to film season 3. You were going through your scripts when you saw it. A kiss scene, between Athena and Wednesday. You knew that this would be your end, this would make you break and you were sure of that. However as hard as it was for you, you needed to make this scene as best as possible.
“And… ACTION!” You were in Wednesday’s room, it being filled with nothing but you two as you had just entered. “Athena. What is so important for you to disturb my writing time?” Wednesday said, as the tapping on her typewriter never stopped. “You’ve been avoiding me, Nes. Care to tell me why?” You asked, crossing your arms as you stared at the back of her head “call me that again and I’ll make Thing rip your tongue off. He doesn’t go easy on people.” She tried to threaten you. But you never got scared of her threats. “I’m not scared, you know that.” With that, Wednesday got up, storming towards you with her fist tightened, god, Jenna looked so beautiful. This is what you kept on thinking, this also contributing to the way you looked at her. “What do you want?” She asked and you took a deep breath. “I’m not sure why you’re ignoring me, but I think that feelings are involved” you said as you slowly stepped closer, she didn’t dare move back.
“Feelings that you’re trying to hide, perhaps” you said and watched how she averted her gaze from yours. “Look Wednesday, I like you. And I know you like me too. But you promised not to be like your mother, you promised you’ll never love someone. But the fact that you love or like someone, doesn’t make you like your mother. You’re your own person Wednesday. You’re way different from her” you continued. She finally looked at you and you felt your breath hitch, god did she look pretty. “Get to the point.” She said and you smiled softly, as you hesitantly moved a hand up to her face. You didn’t caress her cheeks, knowing Wednesday hated physical touch, so you just traced your fingers on her braids. “What I’m trying to tell you is… I would like to try and be something more with you. I want to be your partner… if you’ll allow me”
She didn’t speak a word for a while, but you waited. “Are you aware of the fact that I’ll probably torture you?” She said, and you smirked, grabbing her cold, yet soft hand. “I like a bit of torture.” You said, though she was quicker to reply back to you. “I could hurt you. I could die too, remember I have a stalker.” She said and you sighed. “I would bare the pain. I would die for you if it meant I could save you” you moved closer to her, your lips almost brushing hers “you’re making a mistake.” She said and you smirked “and it’ll be the best mistake I’ll ever make” you said and closed your eyes, finally leaning in for a kiss as you felt her pull you closer from your hips, you smiled as you brought your own hand up to her cheek, to deepen the kiss.
“CUT! that was amazing girls! 10 minutes break” you would have continued kissing her if it wasn’t for the fact that you were filming. In that moment it wasn’t Athena kissing Wednesday, it was you kissing Jenna and it felt heavenly. Her lips were so warm and soft, her skin felt like porcelain under your hands and she just felt so fragile. However you had to pull back when the director yelled cut. You looked at her with heart eyes for a while and she looked back at you with a smile, only for you to storm out running. “(Y/N)! Wait-“ Jenna said and ran behind you, but Emma was quicker. “Hey! What happened?” She asked before Jenna could reach you. “We shot the kiss scene and- and I don’t think I can handle hiding everything for more time” she was about to reply when Jenna reached you. “Jesus aren’t you fast. (Y/N), will you tell me what’s wrong?” Jenna asked while trying to catch her breath.
“Can’t you see what’s wrong, Jen?” You asked her, trying to stay calm and not raise your voice at her. “For months I’ve been hiding my feelings for you but you make it so hard, Jen. You snuggle up to me, you sit on my thighs, you treat me like no one ever did… but then at that interview you said we’re friends- how am I supposed to act? I love you Jen. I’m in love with you just like Athena loves Wednesday, if not even more. But what are we? Are we just friends? Because I would love to try and be more, but it’s up to you…” you said and looked down, though hands in hair. You were lost in thoughts, but she soon pulled you out of them when she walked closer and put a hand on your cheek. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say this in forever” she said as she leaned in and kissed you, but it was a different kiss than the one you shared before while filming.
It wasn’t a “fake” kiss like the ones you share for tv purpose, it was an actual kiss. She pulled back briefly, looking at you this time with heart eyes as well, Her soft lips gently brushed against yours before kissing you again, her hands bringing you closer from your shirt as your hands moved down to her waist, gently caressing it with her thumb. It felt perfect, exchanging hot breaths and soft kissed, it was what you had desired in so long. When she pulled back, she made sure to keep your foreheads attached.
“I love you too.”
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sacredthefran · 1 year
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Cream & Sugar
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka + Female Reader  Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Some Drinking, Oral Sex (M receiving). 18+. Minors DNI Word Count : 10.2k  Authors Notes: The recent pics of Jake have been giving me sugar daddy vibes. This is my first smut. I’m scared. I’m thinking about making this a series but I’m not 100% sure yet  Enjoy :) 
Part 2 (x)
Tick tock.Tick Tock. You glanced at the clock on the far wall from your cubicle. Just two more hours, you kept repeating to yourself. See, your job wasn’t horrible, it’s just been a hell of a day. Monday’s, gotta love them, right? You woke up late, your car wouldn’t start, spilled coffee all over your favorite blouse and heels. But the thing that really topped your morning off? Receiving a letter stating that you had a week and some spare days to pay your rent up to date or you were going to be homeless. To be fair, your landlord has been an angel for the past couple of months. Your payments have been consecutively late or you just haven’t paid for a couple of months. You guessed they decided that enough was enough. As close to homelessness as you were, none of your friends or family would let that happen, they would take you under their wing in a heartbeat. But the last thing you needed right now was your father giving you the lecture of a lifetime. 
“Now y/n, you know damn well that if you were falling behind on bills that you could’ve told us. We have no problem helping you out.” 
Your mother and father still viewed you as their little girl– constantly ignoring the fact that you were a grown twenty-five year old college graduate and one of the only women actually holding a position other than  “secretary” at your law firm. Granted you were just an intern, still-it felt like a huge accomplishment. American Justice wasn’t the biggest firm in Chicago. None of the lawyers here have yet to receive a big case or have any big name clients. Slowly but surely, American Justice was starting to gain more attention. But, that didn’t really matter to you. You were willing to do anything it takes to make a name for yourself.  
“Hey, fuck face. Come take a smoke with me.” 
Oh Beth, she always had a way of making a grand entrance. With a swift roll of your eyes, you grabbed your pack of Marlboro Menthol Ice and headed towards her.
“You okay? You’re looking a little stressed. All that stress is going to make you need botox.” 
You turned to her with a quizzical look.
 She backtracked, “Not that you need it right now, but you keep furrowing your eyebrows. Those wrinkles are going to catch up to you sooner than you realize.” 
Grabbing Beth's arm you started a brisk walk towards the doors, “Yeah, yeah. You got a lighter or am I going to have to ask one of the pricks upstairs?” 
“You know I always have a lighter.” 
You inhaled the nicotine and exhaled the stress. Silently hoping that all the comments about your stress were over. It turns out Beth wasn’t finished with that conversation quite yet. After taking a long drag - she speaks her mind once again. 
“C’mon y/n out with it, I can tell that something is going on with you. Lie all you want but I know when something is eating you up. What is it? Guy issues? I thought you kicked the last guy to the curb. Or were you lying to me about that? You better not have been. Wait, I know exactly what it is!” She exclaimed. “It’s money issues isn’t it?” 
Dammit, she was always so good at reading you. While being at the ripe age of thirty-six, Beth has experienced some things. She has a habit of telling people bits and pieces, but never the full story. 
“Okay, okay. If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone. I mean anyone.” You looked at Beth with hope that she would promise you to keep her lips sealed. 
“Damn kid, did you kill someone or something?” Beth chuckled, but it dropped the minute she saw how serious you were. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t say anything”. 
You took a deep breath and mumbled. 
“Huh? You know I’m old, I can't hear you.” Beth spoke. 
“I’m so far behind on all my bills! I'm going to be homeless in a week if I don’t pay my rent. I can’t be homeless, I can’t move back in with my family. I can’t do it Beth, I just can’t do it.” You finally lifted your eyes to meet Beth’s. 
“Hey, it’s going to be okay, you can always just move in with me and my family.” 
As much as you loved Beth, it wasn’t ideal. She had a nice little townhouse filled with her husband and three kids. You loved kids– actually, you absolutely adored them. You couldn’t wait to have your own, but you just didn’t want to deal with them in your twenties. 
“Beth you know I love you, but I can’t do that.” 
Beth started chuckling “Oh, I know. I wouldn’t want you to deal with those little crotch gremlins. They make me want to rip my hair out and I’m their mother. I can only imagine what they’ll do to you.” She always had a way of making you laugh when you wanted to cry. It just wasn’t working this time.
 “Beth……I’m serious. What the hell am I going to do? I’m scared.” You felt teardrops starting to leak out of your eyes. 
“It’s easy. Just become an escort,” Beth shrugged her shoulders as if she was just mentioning what she wanted for lunch.
 “I’m sorry, what the fuck did you just say to me?” You huffed.
 “Easy tiger, maybe not an escort but a sugar baby.” 
Beth must be out of her mind.
“Look, I know it's not an ideal situation for you. Trust me, there are good men out there who just don’t have time to date, they just want someone to talk to. Maybe occasionally fuck, and they just so happen to pay you for your time.”  
You looked at her with so many questions in mind. “How do you know so much about being a sugar baby?”
Beth started chuckling once again.  “Wipe that stank look off your face. I used to be one. I did it for two years before I started law school. I was able to make enough money to put myself through school and I didn’t have to work. I know it sounds crazy, honestly, you should just try it. I’ve been out of the game for a long time, but I’ve kept in contact with one of the girls, Deandra. She’s still in the business and I bet that she would help you out.”
Beth kept on rambling. 
“Matter of fact, she asked me if I would be interested in this one guy, but obviously I turned it down because I have Dean now. I can send you this guy’s number. That’s all she supplied me with. Deandra does a background check on any guy that comes across her radar - weeds out the bad ones and handpicks all the ones that seem promising. He’s too young for her to deal with. You know what? Y/n you don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m sending his info over tonight.”  
She put her hand up quickly before you could retort. “Do not try to fight me on this. You won't win.” 
With a roll of your eyes you and Beth hooked arms and headed back inside, you to your desk and her to her office.  She’s crazy, you thought. Glancing at the clock, you sighed happily knowing you only had one hour and forty-five minutes left. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple of hours later and just a little tipsy off of some Cabernet, you were finally taking a relaxing bubble bath. Probably the last bubble bath in this apartment, that thought kept replaying in your head. A flash of light caught your attention, looking over onto the floor you noticed it was text from Beth. Realizing that she actually did it, she actually sent you the contact information for  this man. At least she gave you a name this time ; Jake. Jake, okay that’s not an old man’s name. Maybe you could do this, maybe you could go on a couple of dates with him, listen to him bitch about how hard his life is and make a couple of thousand. Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? After downing the rest of the blood red liquid, you managed to draft up a text. Even after the three glasses of liquid-courage, you still felt yourself having trouble finding the right words to say. Here goes nothing.  
Y/n- Hello, I’m not really sure how to go about this…. but I’m y/n. I got your number from Deandra. She mentioned to me that you were looking for a special type of arrangement. 
After sending that text, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a response. He probably won’t respond anyway, he’s probably going to wonder about why Deandra pawn off his info to someone else. You decided to put your phone on airplane mode until you were finished with your nighttime routine. However, it was almost as if Jake knew that you were planning on not waiting around for his text..
Jake- Y/n, what a pleasure it is to finally hear from you. I was wondering when you were going to message me. Deandra informed me Beth had a gorgeous woman that would reach out to me 
Fuck. How in the hell were you supposed to respond to that? Maybe you need another glass of wine. 
Y/n- Charming. I wanted to text you and see what kind of a deal we could make. Or how this whole process goes. Sorry. I’m just new to this whole type of arrangement. 
Great, now he’s going to know that you’re inexperienced. Way to go y/n. The time seemed to tick by at the speed of molasses. Finally, your phone dinged with the familiar text notification.
Jake- No need to apologize. Deandra already mentioned to me that you wouldn’t know how to go about this whole situation. You’re a smart girl, we’ll figure it out. Besides, everyone has to start out somewhere. I think that we should ease into this relationship. Since you’re new to it. I don’t want to scare you off before I get to experience the lovely y/n in action. Matter of fact, how about we meet Friday night for dinner? 
Breathe in, breathe out y/n. It’s just a simple dinner. You can do this, just pretend you’re meeting up with an old friend. It’ll be easy. 
You- That sounds perfect. What restaurant do you have in mind? What time would you like for me to meet you there? 
Jake- Don’t worry about the restaurant. I’ll make a reservation. I will have a driver come pick you up. His name is Taylor. He will be there precisely at 5. Sharp. Make sure you are ready to go. Please make sure that you are wearing a green dress. I think that it compliments your skin tone well. I look forward to seeing you. 
You- 1)How do you know what the hell I look like? 2) How do you know where I live? 3) I don’t wear green, I prefer purple. 
Jake- Like I stated before, make sure the dress is green. I don’t do well with people disobeying me. Don’t worry about how I know those details, I know a lot of people in this city. It’s late, you need to go to bed. Have a goodnight Ms.y/l/n.
What the hell am I doing? 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next couple of days seemed to fly by. Jake texted you off and on that week. It seemed as if he was excited to see you, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. Tuesday morning you were met with Beth’s beaming face proclaiming that she wanted to know all of the details. Who are you to refuse Beth? It felt nice just to get it out of your system and express all your worries. Of course, the biggest worry was that this man already knew your last name and where you live. 
 “Oh, that’s easy. I had Deandra tell him your full name and I guess he did his own research to figure out your address”. 
Beth then proceeded to tell you that this was normal in the industry, especially as someone of his status. Having little to no details about Jake, you decided to trust Beth’s judgment. She kept promising that he was a good man all throughout the week. Almost like a broken record. Every time you would ask for more information about Jake she would shut you down. Apparently he was the type of guy who wanted to keep all his details private until a deal was made. Cause that’s not sketchy at all.
Wednesday came and went. Thursday morning you walked into work to see a bouquet of flowers on your desk. Attached to them was a little note “I hope that this finds you well, in the envelope there’s a couple of hundreds. Like I stated before, I'm expecting you in green. Wouldn’t want for you to receive a punishment during our first meeting.  I look forward to seeing you tomorrow - Jake” . 
There was no way this was actually happening. Peaking into the envelope, reality started to hit you. You were actually going to meet this mystery man and let him pay your way through life for the next couple of months. Your inner feminist was screaming at you, it told you to run–preferably away from this whole situation. Your conscience was begging you to just forget about this and go back to your parents. Deciding against your better judgment, you ended up taking Beth out shopping to find a little green number that would drive this man crazy.
“That’s it!” Beth proclaimed. You did a final look in the mirror acknowledging Beth's statement. 
After going to countless stores; trying on every green dress possible. You finally opted for something short and lacey. Usually you want to cover every part of your body, but if you were going to commit to this sugar baby bit, why not buy something that is guaranteed to keep all of his attention on you? The dress came just below your fingertips, thank God for dresses that cinch around the waist, it accentuated your hourglass figure. Every curve on your body was looking right and let’s not forget how the cups in the dress were pure lace. Looks like there was no way for you to wear a bra, fuck it.  
Friday morning came faster than you could imagine. Maybe it was the nerves or maybe it was the fact that you wanted to make sure you looked perfect for Jake tonight, after all, your life was betting on how dinner would go. It’s been a while since you had to dress for male validation. You were putting on your shoes when a knock on the door startled you. 
Looking out of the peephole, you noticed a man standing on the other side of the door seemingly to look directly in your eyes through the small glass circle. “Uh hello?” You opened the door with a shaky breath. 
“I work for Mr. Kiszka. I’m Taylor. I’m going to be your driver for the night. I was given specific orders to be at the restaurant by five-thirty ma’am. Let's get a move on. Mr. Kiszka doesn’t take too kindly to people wasting his time. I’m sure he’s mentioned that to you before”. 
No. Fucking. Way. It can’t be. There’s no way that Jake is Jacob Kiszka. He was one of the most notorious lawyers on the scene right now.  Jake was a practicing lawyer at New Horizons Family Law. It was the biggest firm in Chicago. Jacob Kiszka was a force to be reckoned with, he rarely lost a case. Word on the street was that his clients were actually a part of organized crime, instead of “family law”. Standing in your doorway, you prayed that you wouldn’t stick your foot in your mouth and ask him about his clients tonight. You figured that it would scare Jake away more than anything. You were pulled away from your overthinking to Taylor clearing his throat and pointing at his watch. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Much to Taylor’s dismay, you actually arrived at five thirty-five. Exiting the car you came to the realization that you have no clue if you should wait out front for Jake or if you should already be seated when he gets here. Turning to Taylor you asked him what option would be best, with a huff and puff he told you to go to the host and tell them you’re with Mr. Kiszka. No questions would be asked.
Following his directions, you were shocked at how fast the host was scurrying to get you to a table.
He led you past all the tables in the restaurant, noticing the look of fear in your eyes, he mumbled “Mr. Kiszka is one of our high profile guests. He likes to have all of his meetings in a private room.” 
It was all starting to click with you. Jacob Kiszka is the man that you have been texting all week leading up to this moment. Once you finally were seated, the host froze as the door on the left was whipped open. Something was telling you that he wasn’t supposed to be here when Jake arrived.. 
Oh. My. God. All your suspicions from earlier were true. Standing in the doorway was Jake Kiszka. Before you could get a good look at him the host ran out of the room mumbling a quick “I’m sorry”.  
Slowly making his way over to you, you were observing as many details as you could. The first thing you noticed was his hair was pulled back, giving you a perfect view of his angelic face, he was wearing black dress pants with a white shirt unbuttoned all the way down to the beginning of his torso. He wore a golden pendant that rested gently in the middle of his chest, you just wanted to reach out and touch him. He didn’t seem real.  Once your eyes finally met his, Jake gave you a smirk. Hopefully he didn’t see you looking at him like an art collector finding an undiscovered Davinci. 
“Well, I hope you’re done checking me out. I’m ready to have a seat now,” Jake said smugly. 
“Oh, of course. Have a seat. I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” Not only did Jake call you out for ogling him, his smile grew tenfold when he realized how rosy your cheeks were getting under his gaze. 
“I know who you are and you know who I am. I think we can skip past all this small talk and actually start to get to know each other. I also wanted to apologize for being late. I had a meeting with my client run over. But, I guess that doesn’t really matter since you were late too.” Jake replied with a smug grin.
 “I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I couldn’t find my shoes,” you stuttered nervously. 
“So you want to start our relationship off on a bad note?”
 You gave him a quizzical look.
 “Taylor told me that you were ready to go but you just couldn’t stop daydreaming about me. So much so that it made you late. I don’t do well with people who are late. I expect proper punctuality from now on. It’s okay, I'll let it slip this time. By the way I noticed that you followed my request and wore green. Good Girl.” 
You’d hate to admit it, but those two little words had you squeezing your thighs together. No one could blame you for that. This man practically dripped sex. It’s like he knew what he was doing to you. 
“Tell me princess, or do you prefer y/n?”
 Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally met his gaze. “Princess works for me.”
 Jake grinned at your acknowledgement of your pet name already. “Do I live up to your expectations? Or should I pack it up and send you on your merry way?” He already knew the answer to that question, he just wanted the confirmation from you that you were attracted to him and willing to do anything that he wanted. 
“No, you definitely meet my expectations.” Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to come out. Good Job y/n. Now he’s going to think you’re desperate. Jake kept beaming at you, he really was as cheeky as all the rumors stated him to be. As he was about to answer, a waitress came through the door. Saved by the bell. 
“Sorry to interrupt, I was wondering if you guys were ready to order?” She offered both of you a smile.
 Without breaking your eye contact Jake responded, “We’ll have a bottle of Cuvee Indigene and the chefs special. Thank you.” 
You looked at him with an open mouth. 
“What?” He looked at you confused.
 “Cuvee Indigene? That’s an expensive bottle, I don’t want you to feel like you have to impress me.” You stated matter of factly. 
 Jake interrupted you by sucking his teeth. “I’m not trying to impress you, I know you like Chardonnay, so why not get you top of the line? I’m about to wire some money into your bank account so I wouldn’t be worrying about how expensive the bottle is if I were you. Also, close your mouth unless that’s an invitation for me to put something in it." 
If it wasn’t possible before, your jaw was practically on the floor. Who the fuck does he think he is? Your inner feminist wanted to smack the hell out of him. But as much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was making you feel things that you weren’t supposed to. Judging by how dark your eyes got, Jake could sense it too.
Little to your knowledge, Jake was trying to see how turned on he could get you and how far he could push his limits. 
Once again, the door to your left opened and you could hear the noise from the outside. Something to distract you away from this awkward conversation. You noticed in her hand that she had the bottle of wine and two glasses in her hand. Thank you, Jesus. As she went to pour some wine in your glass Jake waved her off and insisted on doing it himself. 
“Now, now. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t take care of my girl?” 
My girl. You barely know this man and he's already staking his claim. Taking the wine glass in your hand, you reached it out towards him to fill up. Even though there was clearly a power imbalance in between you two, you still wanted to make it known to him that you weren’t some run-of-the-mill sugar baby. You actually would let him boss you around and ruin you, but you didn’t want him to know that yet. You had to keep some semblance of composure. 
“Relax Princess, no need to start getting hostile. I just want to show you what it’s like to have someone take care of you.” 
Aaaand there the cheekiness is again. He kept filling your glass until it was a half inch from the top. 
“Drink up, we have a long night ahead of us.” 
Yes, Sir. 
Once again the room was filled with silence, it was like neither of you knew what to say to each other. It didn’t feel like it was the proper atmosphere for you to ask him what his favorite movie or color was. Think y/n. Think. You were sweating bullets thinking about what he was implying with “long night”. 
If you knew anything about Jake, you would be able to tell that he felt like he stuck his foot in his mouth. He didn’t want to come off too cocky, Jake was attracted to you and wanted to make you aware of it, but he wasn’t sure how to do so. Just as Jake parted his lips to speak, he was interrupted by the waitress coming back into the room. 
“Sorry, to interrupt you guys again, but the food is ready.” She glanced at the couple with a nervous smile. You felt bad for the poor girl. You could pick up that Jake’s demeanor made her nervous. As she set down the dishes, he kept a stone cold stare at the back of her head. You waited until she left and then cleared your throat. 
 “Mr. Kiszka, what are these dishes exactly?” 
“Please, call me Jake. Have you ever had French before?”
 You quickly shook your head no. 
“Why didn’t you tell me when I suggested French? And this dish is called Bouillabaisse. The chef is a personal friend of mine, I made sure that he used Cod instead of Sea Bass, it tastes better.” 
You kept your gaze down. 
“If you don't like it, I’m sure I can speak to him and have him make you something different.”
When you finally looked up at him, he was biting his lip–staring at you intently. 
“No, no. I’m good with it. I didn’t even try it, I was just wondering what it was.” After you stated that, you quickly took a bite to ease his nerves. Damn y/n, you barely know this man and you’re already aiming for his approval.
Jake smiled at this and kept making small talk over the course. 
“So what’s the main reason why you wanted to be a sugar baby, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
Well, it looks like that was the end of the small talk. You gulped down the remainder of the first wine glass and started motioning for him to fill it up again.
 “Do you want the real reason or do you want me to give you some bullshit excuse?” 
Jake was in the motion of filling up your glass and looked you dead in the eyes. “I always want the truth, if we are going into this type of relationship I need you to be a hundred percent honest with me. At all times. Do I make myself clear?”
Clear as crystal. 
“Does the same apply to you?” You asked him in a venom-ridden voice. 
“Of course it does. I know you don’t know how these types of situations work, but I like to run all my relationships based on honesty and trust. If you don’t have trust with your partner, then there isn’t a relationship. That applies to business and personal. You should know that, being a lawyer and all.” 
So Beth wasn’t lying. Someone of his status does their research. Well, there goes the thought about being able to lie about why you needed the money. You finally pulled your gaze away from the floor and made eye contact.
 “I don’t come from a wealthy family, as much as my parents say they would love to help me, they wouldn’t be able to handle it. If they paid my rent and the bills that I'm behind on, that would put them in the hole. I can’t do that to them. As you know I’m a lawyer, well not yet, technically. I passed my bar but American Justice wont let me practice yet. They want to keep me as an intern. So obviously, they’re not paying me enough. Ever since this damn pandemic, I haven’t been able to support myself. Everything is just starting to add up. Monday I got a letter threatening to evict me if I couldn’t pay the past two months rent by next Thursday. Frankly, I’m just scared. I don’t want to come across as a failure to my parents.”
 Jake interrupted your rambling “How would you be a failure?”
You looked at him like he had three heads, “How wouldn’t I? I left for school telling them that I was going to be somebody. I can’t show up on their doorstep years later begging for a place to stay.” You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes. Jake noticed this, in an attempt to stop you from crying he reached across the table and rubbed your arm. 
“American Justice just wants to keep you as an intern?” You slowly nodded your head at him. “Have you thought about applying to different firms?” 
“Of course I have. You don’t think I’ve done that already?” You huffed back at him.
“First off, watch your tone when speaking to me. I’m just trying to help you. After all, this whole arrangement is about me helping you. If you don’t like the way I speak then feel free to leave. The door is right there, princess. Nothing’s holding you here.” 
Except the fact that you needed his money. 
After realizing that you weren’t attempting to flee the scene, Jake cleared his throat. “I read over your essays from law school. Specifically your thesis about Women's Rights. I’m friends with Roxanne from Sisterhood Movement. Have you tried there? Roxanne would take you under her wing. She would help you build your cases. Roxy is all about empowering women.” 
Jake was studying your face. He couldn’t make out your expression. 
Looking down at the table, you took a deep breath. “I can’t apply to Sisterhood Movement. Are you kidding me?”
 “Why can’t you?” He countered back.
 “They’re all powerful names over there. They take on the most high profile cases. I don’t mean just the cases in Chicago, I’m talking about the cases that they take all across the States. As much as I love Roxanne’s work, I don’t want to go over there and ruin everything she’s worked for. I’m just not ready to take on cases of discrimination and sexual harassment yet. I just can’t do it, Jake” God, you sound so insecure right now. Pull it together. 
Jake could see the tears forming in your eyes again. He understood that he had to wait until he knew you a little bit better before he could keep pressing the issue with you. “Okay, okay. I won’t keep pestering you about it.” 
After that statement, you felt like you could look him in the eyes once more. 
“Thank you.” 
He smiled weakly at you. “Of course. Now, is there anything that you want to ask me?” 
Well there is one thing. 
 “Out with it. You’re biting your lip. If you’ve got something to ask then just ask.” 
You weren’t sure if it was the wine or your nerves but you quickly blurted out “Are you actually a defense attorney for the mafia or is that just a rumor?”.
His eyes turned ice cold at that moment. 
“I don’t think that’s anything for you to know. You should know that I do not disclose my clients information. If you were worried about me being connected to the mob, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would you?” You hated the fact that warmth started to flood all over your body. 
He sensed a change in your breathing pattern. “Now, anything logical you want to ask me? Or do you want to keep sticking your foot in your mouth?”  Your jaw dropped open again. 
“Princess, I thought I told you earlier to keep your mouth closed. You’re practically begging for me to put something in there.”
 Instead of replying to that comment you decided to lean forward just enough that he could see your cleavage. Two can play this game. 
Innocently, you traced the rim of the glass. “Mr. Kiszka, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just asking a simple question.” 
Jake could feel himself harden. He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table at that moment. Jake wasn’t dumb, he knew what you were trying to do to him.  “You should really finish your wine right now,” 
You tilted your head and in the most innocent voice you could respond, “And why is that Mr. Kiska?” Sitting back you smiled sweetly at him. It was at this moment that Jake registered you weren’t wearing a bra. Your nipples were peaking out of the lace at him, begging to be touched. 
“Because, if we're going to continue this conversation, I want to be in the privacy of my own home. Plus, I want to play with my new toy.” 
You were positive that your cheeks were painted red at the mere thought of him referring to you as a toy. Without hesitation, you gulped down your wine and smiled at him. “Good Girl,” Jake reached his hand out towards you. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jake Kiszka wasn’t a man to waste his time with words, when his actions could do the talking.  The whole car ride back to his penthouse, he kept inching his hand further up your leg while driving. Which is kind of ironic to you because he sent you a driver but he preferred to drive himself. 
You weren’t sure if it was the wine talking or your subconscious, but you could feel the sexual tension. You could practically cut it with a knife. Unbeknownst to you, Jake was feeling the same way. 
Once arriving at his place, he dismissed you from following him into the kitchen and instructed you to “sit still and look pretty” on the couch. After five painfully long minutes he came back into the room with two glasses filled with an amber liquid. Offering you the glass, you winced as you smelled it. Jake chuckled, “Not a fan of Bourbon? This is Guadalupe. It’s good, take a sip.”
Jake then proceeded to raise the glass to your lips and tilt your head back. Opening up your lips, you realized that you were ready to swallow whatever this man would give you. Jake soon realized this was a mistake as you started coughing up a lung after taking a pull of amber down your throat. 
“You good over there?” Jake gave you a wicked grin. 
“Uh, yeah I’m okay. I'm just more of a wine drinker.” You replied shyly. 
 “Noted, I'll be more careful next time when I make you swallow something”. 
You were sure that your eyes were the size of golf balls. Acting like he casually just asked about the weather, Jake circled back to the conversation at the restaurant. “So anything else you want to ask me?” 
Taking another small sip of bourbon, you found the courage to speak again. “Why are you a sugar daddy?” Peaking over the glass at him, you noticed Jake furrowed his eyebrows. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just curious. You're Jake Kiszka. You could get any woman you want. I know women throw themselves at you all the time.”
Interrupting you, Jake sighed from his spot. “You’re right. I probably could have any woman I want. I always sucked at dating. Just never had the time to give to someone. To be honest, I frankly don’t have the time right now. I basically only have the time for a casual dinner and a quick fuck. A couple of my friends do this and suggested it to me. I have the funds to give to a pretty lady. So why not try it?”.
It was surprising that he even gave you the answer that he did. Jake didn’t seem like the type to open up to people even a little bit. 
“A quick fuck? That’s what I’m here for?” You stood up, you knew you were here for his money, but he didn’t have to talk to you like you were nothing. Like you weren’t a person. Fuck That. 
“Sit back down. You and I both know that you’re not going anywhere.” Swallowing your pride you took the spot next to him on the black leather couch. You hated that he was right. 
“Obviously it’s not going to be quick. I have stamina. Did you miss the part where I said casual dinner too?” Jake was chuckling. “I didn’t think I had to go into details. There is going to be communication between us. You will be taken care of y/n, as long as I’m taken care of. At any moment you can walk away from this. If you're uncomfortable we can just forget that this meeting ever happened. Anytime you feel uncomfortable, you tell me to stop and I will. No questions asked. Now, are you okay with this?” 
You shook your head yes. 
“Y/n, I need to hear it.”
 “Yes, I understand.” you breathed out, shakily.  
Jake beamed at you. “I’m assuming that this is the time where we talk about your payment? I was thinking of a weekly allowance of $1,500 to start, then if you’re a good girl for me we can up it. I’ll make sure to wire you the money on Monday.”
 You nodded along, “Jake, I'm grateful for this, don't get me wrong. But is there any way I can get an advance? $1,500 isn’t going to pay my past due rent.” You felt embarrassed even asking him this. He knew you needed money, but you didn’t want him to see you grovel for it. 
Jake then picked something up off the table. As he got closer to you, you recognized that it was a check. “I knew that you were going to bring up the rent situation, so I went ahead, called your apartment manager and wrote you a check for the next two months. I already paid your past two.”
 You were shocked to say the least. You couldn’t help it but your jaw dropped at the thought of how much money that is, even though it's probably spare change for him. 
“You must really want me to put something in your mouth, princess. All you have to do is ask.” Jesus. This man is going to be the death of you. 
“Anyway, I know we talked about the weekly allowances, but there’s some other things involved as well. Of course I have benefits, galas and public appearances to keep up, you will be attending them with me. No excuses, obviously with that comes all the shopping that you could want. I need you to be dressed to the nines when we go out. It comes with the territory. I’m sure you understand. Think this is something that you can do?”
 You nodded along with what he was saying. “Yes, Jake. I’m positive I’ll be able to handle all of this. Are you sure I’m the one that you want? Don’t you want to shop around a little and see what other options are out there?”. 
He looked at you like you were crazy for even suggesting the thought. “No, I’m sure that I want to do this with you. The minute I saw your picture, I knew I wanted you and wouldn’t stop until you agreed to this deal.”
This man was persistent, maybe it was a trait that he formed being a lawyer. It didn’t matter, you couldn’t get over the fact that he saw a picture of you before you locked eyes at the restaurant. 
“How did you get a picture of me?” You quizzed him as he finally took a seat next to you.
 “I have connections, don’t worry about it. '' He was looking deep into your eyes while licking his lips. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to the spot that he just wet.
 “You know, it’s okay to go after what you want y/n,” leaning into you. He was giving you the option to lean into the kiss or pull back.
 “I don’t know, I’m just a little nervous,” Jake seemed to smile at the small confession. 
“Nothing to be nervous about, darling. It’s human nature.” 
That right there sealed the deal, you closed the gap between you. Your lips melted together, it was like he was made for kissing you. Just as you were about to pull away to admire the man in front of you, you felt a hand making its way to the nape of your neck. It wasn’t aggressive, he was just holding you into place, giving you the option to stop if you wanted. Jake noticed that you weren’t pulling away. He took this as a sign to deepen the kiss, there was only one problem here. You were fighting him for dominance.
Jake broke the kiss and pulled you to straddle him. “Stop trying to take control.” 
Pressing his forehead against yours, he gave you a lustful look. With a simple nod of your head, you felt yourself losing control. He took your nod as reassurance to continue, and you watched as he moved closer. His hands grabbed your thighs as he lifted himself up towards your face, capturing your lips again. From your outer thigh, his hands began to travel upwards until you could feel the heat of his palms drag up your waist, then the small of your back. You melted with his touch, feeling yourself lean deeper into the kiss. Your skin tingled as he reached your breasts, protected only by the lace cups of the dress. You could feel your cheeks reddening as you followed his lead. Fuck, he just brushed against your nipple. You jolted at the sudden sensation, and he sensed you were feeling it. He swiped his thumb against the other one. While you were distracted, he moved his mouth lower, to the crook of your neck–kissing a trail all the way to your shoulder. His breath was hot on your skin and you moaned at even the slightest of touches. Was it the wine from dinner? The bourbon? Was it him and his obsession with being suave? Or was it the way he kept looking at you with lust filled eyes? 
“I like you best when you’re at my mercy,” he said before closing his mouth around the lace that covered your nipple. 
The first thing you felt was the heat, then the pressure–and finally, the pleasure. And you wanted more.  Instead, Jake lifted his head. You opened your eyes, suddenly realizing that they were closed all this time. You met his gaze, wanting to open your mouth, hoping he’d say something about filling it again. But you didn’t. Instead you wet your lips. 
“Show me why I should pay your rent,” he whispered in your ear, oozing with lust.
 “Wha-what do you mean?” you stuttered nervously.
 “I want you to show me why I’m spending my money on you. Show me I made the right choice to choose you out of all others.” As he was distracting you with his rugged voice, Jake was sneaking his hand underneath your dress to feel the puddle of warmth that was forming between your legs. “Damn, princess. All this for me?” he licked your ear and then blew on it. 
“Yes Jake, it’s all for you”.
 You felt a sharp stinging pain on your ass and when you went to lift up off his lap, he pulled you back down in a sharp motion. You could feel his cock struggling against his pants. 
“Looks like I’m not the only one enjoying myself,” finally, it was your moment to tease him. 
“I would enjoy myself more if you would take my cock out of my pants and show me how much you want it,” he growled out.
You could feel yourself looking down at him with hooded eyes. It was at this moment you knew that you were always going to be at his mercy. This man knew how to turn you into putty. 
Instead of giving into Jake, you decided to tease him a little bit more. Grinding down on him and reaching down to pull your dress over your head. You felt strong hands grabbing your wrists. 
“Nuh-uh, only I get to take off your clothes, you do as you're told.” 
You moved back and forth on him a little bit harder. Leaning forward, you whispered into his ear, “But I thought you wanted me to show you why you’re paying my rent.”
 Jake paused for a minute, before deciding to grab onto your waist and flip you around. He realized that having you on top made you feel like you were in charge - you never were going to be when he was around. 
“Is that back sass I hear? That won't get you far with me, darling.” He was staring you down like a hunter stalking his prey.
 “Darling? I thought my name was y/n?” You replied coyly.
 “Keep talking and I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” 
You involuntarily felt your pussy clench. Jake could feel it too, his cock was nestled right in between your folds with just a thin layer of lace separating the most intimate parts of yourselves. “Oh, it seems like you like that idea,” he smirked. 
You moaned in response, there was no way to keep you quiet. Just with Jake’s talk alone, you were ready to orgasm right then and there. 
“But I don’t want to fuck you yet, I want to see how badly you want me.” You're doing the best you can to keep your composure- well, what was left of it anyway.
 “I want you, I want you to fill me up, I want you inside of me,” You mumbled into his neck. 
“Princess, you really don’t listen do you? We’re going to have so much fun with all the lessons you need to learn. I said I’m not going to fuck you. Trust me I want nothing more than to feel this tight little pussy around my cock, but I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.” 
Your body felt like it was on fire. It was like Jake was just casually asking you what you wanted to eat, all of this just seemed to roll off his tongue. Before you could stop yourself you found the words slipping past your lips “Can I put your cock in my mouth?”. 
“You know that’s not how you ask for what you want.” he reapplied smugly. ”Beg for it.” 
“Ja-” A quick swat on your thigh stopped you. “Sir?” 
Jake shook his head, “You’re getting closer, but that's not what you should call me, princess.” 
You had one guess left in your mind. “Daddy?” 
Jake didn’t think it was possible for him to get harder, but hearing your sweet innocent voice and doe eyes peering up at him, he couldn’t hold himself together. “Daddy, can I please suck your cock?” 
“You want Daddy’s cock in your mouth?”  
Instead of answering him, you pushed on his shoulder, flipping both of you around and then pinning his shoulders to the couch. Jake didn’t fight you on this, he wanted your mouth on him just as much as you wanted him to fill your pussy. He wanted you to feel like you had a little control–for now–it gave you confidence. 
“Go ahead baby, take it out. Show Daddy how much you want his cock.” 
With shaky hands, you undid his belt and started to pull his boxers down. Jake could feel you starting to hesitate. He gently put his hands over yours and helped you pull down the fabric- freeing his cock. You couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of his cock going into your mouth and eventually your pussy.
 “Aw, is my princess speechless? Don't worry, it’ll fit in all the holes you want. Right now we’re just gonna focus on putting it in the back of your throat. Then we'll focus on it fitting in that sweet cunt of yours. I can just tell it's a ripe pink and I bet right now it's just aching for my touch. Isn’t it? You want me to rub on that sweet little clit to give you some relief?”
 You couldn’t hold back the little whine that escaped your throat. “You like the sound of that huh? Daddy touching you? Just wait until I put my tongue in your pussy. Oh baby, I can tell that you’re going to taste divine.” 
At this point you were melting into him, you started to move your hands in a twisting motion, hoping to bring Jake as much pleasure as he was giving you with these filthy little thoughts spilling out. 
 “Sorry, it’s not going to happen, it’s all about you putting my cock into that sweet little mouth of yours.” 
Jake didn’t give you any time to respond to that, he lifted up three fingers to your mouth, urging you to open up and let them in. You did as he asked and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, but Jake noticed something, you were so nervous that your mouth was dry.  Pushing you down onto your knees, looking at you with lust blown eyes he pulled your hair, forcing your head to tilt back.
 “Open your mouth now.”
 “Why?” 
Jake gave you a stern look. “Trust Me. Open. Now. “ 
Sitting in front of him, you watched in amusement as he took a sip of the amber liquid. Making eye contact with you one more time, he leaned forward and spit the liquid directly in your mouth. 
“Swallow.” 
Starting to gag a little on the taste, Jake chuckled. “Princess, that wasn’t even a lot to swallow, we’re really going to have to work on that, aren’t we?” After watching you swallow he grabbed your jaw, “Ready for more?” 
Nodding your head wasn’t going to work–Jake had you in a grip that wouldn’t allow you to move. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good Girl. Now open up for me again.” 
Per his request you opened it up again. “Wider princess. C’mon. My cock wont fit in that tiny little opening.” 
Fuck. You were drooling for him. Jake didn’t come this far with you to not have you put your mouth on his throbbing cock. 
“That’s my good girl. You’re listening to Daddy so good.” Jake looked like he was debating on doing something. After a moment of contemplating, you watched in fascination :as a solid string of spit left his mouth and fell on your tongue. He dipped his fingers back into your mouth and spread the fluid all around your mouth. 
“Don’t close your mouth yet, it’s not wet enough” He spit back into your mouth with a firm: “Don’t you dare swallow.” You didn’t want to disobey him, you wanted to do everything that he said, word for word.
 “Good Girl, keep your mouth open, we’re not done yet.” Jake then directed your head towards his cock.
 You caught a second glimpse at it and just had to admire it. It was long, thick and had the perfect pink tint. His mushroom tip leaking precum- begging to be tasted. Jake didn’t stop until his cock was right in front of your mouth, with a hand wrapped around his base, he gently eased it in. He kept going until he hit that little sweet spot in the back of your throat that makes you gag. Jake finally let out a groan as he felt you wrap your lips around him. 
The groan that Jake left out was unholy. It sent a shock all the way down to your core. Once your mouth got used to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, you slowly started to bob your head up and down. In need of a breather, you released Jake out of your mouth with a solid ‘pop’. After sitting back for a couple of seconds, you dropped a thick bead of spit on his head, while using your left hand in a twisting motion, staring at Jake’s face. You started at the base and worked your way to his tip, getting a good feel of every single little detail of his throbbing cock. From how thick it was, how you needed to use two hands, and last but not least, the way he would twitch when you touched the underside of his head right where a prominent vein is.  His mouth was opened in pure bliss while he was looking down his nose at you. God, you wished you could see Jake like this everyday. 
He had had enough of your admiration and was starting to yearn for the feeling of your mouth again. Jake ran his fingers through your hair again and yanked you upwards. Chest to chest; forehead to forehead. Feverishly, your neck was whipped to the side and you felt the presence of hot air hitting your ear. 
“I think that's enough princess. My cock is missing your mouth already. Show it how much you love it. I want you to suck me dry, I want to cum in the back of your throat and I’m not stopping until I do. Do you understand?”
Not wanting to waste anymore time, you quickly nodded and tried to free your hair out of his grip. Jake didn’t budge. “Do you understand?” You nodded again.
Jake wasn’t taking that as a response. “I need a verbal answer princess, before we go any further”. Locking eyes with him you said, “Yes Daddy. I want to make you feel good.” 
With a quick groan, Jake let go of your hair and pushed you back down so your face was right at his cock. You wanted to be a good girl for Jake, hell, you wanted nothing more in life than to hear those filthy noises coming out of his mouth. Taking his cock into your hand again, you sunk your mouth onto him slowly. Taking him inch by inch. As much as Jake wanted you to go fast, you were going to take your time. You wanted to work his cock like your life depended on it, after all, it did. You were taking your time with him, as he was filling your throat back up, you kept swallowing around every inch. Once your plump lips reached the bottom of his cock, tears started to form in your eyes. Jake could sense that you wanted to move your mouth off of him again, so he put his hand on the nape of your neck holding you there. 
Looking up at Jake through your tears, you saw him smirking. “Oh, is my baby starting to gag on Daddy’s cock? You want to take it out for a second?” You moaned around him. The vibration from that alone had Jake ready to shoot his cum down the back of your throat, he just had to hold on for a little bit longer. 
“That's too bad princess. You’re going to keep my cock in your mouth for as long as I want. Here let me move your hair out of the way.” 
Doing as he said, Jake took the elastic band that he keeps around his middle finger and moved all your hair back. Jake wanted to enjoy the show, he wanted to see all of you, trying to take every inch of him. But those watering eyes were doing something to him, your eyes looked so clear and filled with lust. Grabbing the base of your ponytail, he decided to start moving your head up and down. The sound of you gurgling around his cock was deafening. While Jake was busy with not trying to blow his load prematurely, you successfully snuck your hand down into your underwear in search of some type of relief. 
You dove your fingers through your folds hoping to gather some moisture. When you finally gathered enough, you reached up to circle your clit a couple of times. Silly you for thinking that you could get away with doing this in front of Jake Kiszka. After the third swirl on your clit he noticed that your moans were starting to change octaves. He quickly opened his eyes and realized what you were doing. He snatched your hand out of your underwear in an instant. 
“I don’t think so princess, this is about me getting off tonight not you,” Jake growled out.
 You looked back up at Jake with tear glossed eyes. This only made Jake yearn for you even more. You pulled your hand gently out of his grip and cupped his balls lightly. With a slight movement of your fingers, you felt him start to twitch. “C’mon baby, just like that,” he sputtered out as he started to feel the pleasure really begin to take over his body. Moving your head wasn’t enough for Jake. 
Holding your head steady, he started bucking his hips off the couch. With every buck your nose was touching his pelvic bone; breathing in  the woodsy smell of this man deeply. The more you tried to move your head back the more force would be pushed onto the back of your head to keep you still. Jake could feel your throat start to tighten up and try to push him out. 
“Keep that throat relaxed for Daddy baby. He’s almost there.” 
The mixed noises of your gags and the praises that Jake kept slipping out were taking over the atmosphere. You could tell that he was close to his peak. His thrusts were becoming sloppy, the sweat was starting to roll off his torso and drip down to his pelvic area. Jake’s breath was becoming unsteady, every other moan kept getting hitched in the back of his throat. You went into overdrive at the mere thought of his release coming, with every thrust towards the back of your throat, you were sticking your tongue out in search for his balls when you reach the base. 
Jake finally felt the tip of your tongue grazing that soft spot on top of his balls. A deep guttural moan spilled out of him. “C’mon princess, just a little bit longer. Daddy’s gonna give you his special little treat.”
 As soon as those words fell from Jake's lips, you hollowed your cheeks as much as you could and put all your effort into just breathing in Jake. Placing your hands on both thighs, you let him take full control over your mouth. You could tell that Jake was ready to come any second, the tip of his cock kept swelling up in size. Jake was in a frenzy he couldn't stop. The thing that pushed him over the edge was you looking up at him one last time. He pushed himself all the way into the back of your throat, let out a loud groan and emptied his load down your throat. 
“Stay right there Princess. Don’t swallow yet. I’m going to take myself out of your mouth now, I want to see it in there.” 
Jake slowly slid his cock out of your mouth. Looking down at you to make sure that you were listening to him and not swallowing anything. He pulled you up to his height with a single hand around your throat. 
“Open up princess, let me see.” 
As you slowly opened your mouth, Jake slid two of his fingers in there and pulled them out. He was mesmerized looking at the cum threading through his fingers. 
“Look up at me” he jerked your head up with a hand under your chin. “Now you can swallow,” he closed your mouth with the force of two fingers pushing your jaw up. Jake beamed at you as he watched your throat move up and down, proving to him how much of a good girl you can be for him. 
Jake took your hand and led the way to his bedroom. He finally found his own little sugar baby, there was no way that he was going to let you get away that easy. 
“Hey Jake?” you spoke up. 
“You okay? What's up?” He turned around to face you.
 “Nothing, I just wanted to know if I could use the bathroom?” 
Jake gave a jerk of his head towards the door on the right, without speaking another word you headed in that direction. After opening the door, you startled yourself. Looking at the reflection in the mirror you couldn’t recognize yourself. Mascara was running down your cheeks, lips swollen and your hair looked crazy. Jake was kind enough to move it back from your face, but he seemed to pull out over half of it when he was holding you down to his pelvis area. Fuck, these knots are going to be a bitch to get out. Running your fingers through your hair, you peeked into the bedroom once again in search of Jake. With no luck you called out for him. He came out of his closet with a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt.
 “Here. Change into these, it’s late. Taylor will drive you home in the morning.” Glancing from the clothes in his hands back up to his face you didn’t quite understand. 
“What are these for?” Jake looked a little bit taken back at your comment.
 “Like I said, change into them. There’s makeup wipes in the one drawer. You don’t have to stay here. You can stay in the guest room if you want. Once again, it’s late. Taylor will drive you home in the morning.” 
 At this point Jake was shoving the clothes into your hands, he didn’t give you any room to protest. Once you closed the door you slid down it and just kept thinking to yourself. 
What The Fuck Did I Just Get Myself Into.
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What power looks like (Dark!AemondPrince Regent x morally grey Reader/oc)
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X FEM AFAB READER
Tags: Show canon/ish bookish canonish and totally not canon at all
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🔷Summary: You once bullied Aemond and fell in favour with his brother, but now that Aegon is uhm...not able to talk right now, Aemond wants revenge for all you did to him. And he means all of it.
🔷Author's note: This is very poor written but i wanted to share something so...here it is.
🔷Wordcount 4000
Warnings below the cut but mind your step!
cw: blood, stalking, paranoia, smut, oral sex m reciev. fucking, throne fucking, blood, cuts, daggers, slight dubcon.
There had been fighting before you were born.
There will be fighting long after you have left this place, nothing more but a pile of dust, that once were your bones.
There had been war before you were born.
And there will be war long after you have passed.
But none war was so accursed, such a mockery to the gods as the war between kin. And no war was so bloody, so frightful, so deadly, as a war between dragons.
The day began like any other. One might call it ‘ordinary’. There is no day that is ordinary when it comes to you. At first, you awake within the same four walls you always do. Your bedroom in the Red Keep, still nestled warmly in the golden sheets. 
Your head is still pounding from last night, your sigil ring of house Asteryon on the floor, near your nightstand. You likely attempted to throw it on the table last night before you fell asleep. And you failed.
You pick it up, your fingers slightly trembling as you easily slide it around your finger. The bed is not yours to worry for, so you let it be, for your servants. You dress that day, alone and quick. 
Your mind wanders fast and everywhere, as you slip in a black simple gown with silver details. You pick one of your decorated daggers from your vanity, sliding two of them in your boots. The other, you put in the hidden pocket of your dress, near your corset. 
When you are convinced there is no more gold, no more silverware, and no more weapons that you can smuggle out of your rooms, you come out of it. Instantly you are met with the cautious eyes of one of the many faceless servants of the Red Keep. You remain frozen as she enters your bedroom, paying you almost no mind.
Almost.
You study her briefly. Her big brown eyes and her blonde luscious locks as she keeps her attention exclusively at you, fumbling with your bed linen. 
You know better.
She is here for you.
Another reason to leave.
You don’t pay her any mind when you open the doors of your bedroom, leading to the big shallow halls filled with empty souls and hollow guards. Right away, you are confronted with an almost piercing smell of iron. No, not iron. Blood. Sweet, fresh and likely still warm blood. The type you only gain by slaughter of innocence.
You pause in the hallway, your mind opening the map inside your mind, of the Red keep. Searching for any quick way out. Any quick way to the ports. Any quick way away from this. 
When the Greens had taken over, your mother warned you it would be a short time before they would show their true colors. And now they have. You wonder how many are dead. Dozens, hundreds, thousands? 
Your mother is gone now. 
There is only one hope for you left.
You need to get to the North.
To Cregan Stark.
To your rival.
And you need to fall to your knees, cry, beg, scream, and finally convince him to marry you. 
If he still wants you.
You pass a mirror on your way out.
You briefly look into it, adoring your reflection, aside from those hauntingly scared eyes. The eyes of a peasant. The eyes of a servant.
Most men only like fear in a woman’s eyes. This will not make your conquest harder. Only easier. You lay out the steps for yourself. Get outside, get to the North, get Cregan and hope the Greens don’t follow.
You step outside your rooms, your feet quickly pacing over the tiles where Queens, kings and their servants walked before you. The route you walked a million times. Now is the time to leave. 
King Aegon and Prince Aemond are still fighting in Rook Rest. Dowager Alicent is still mourning and the Hand of the King, Ser Criston is with the two royals. You only would expect a rat to interrupt you. You only would suspect a rat would greet you.
And that is exactly what happens.
You hear footsteps behind you, quickly, fast, yet with effort. As if someone’s having trouble with their armor. Marching, rushing up to you as if you can escape any moment. You subtly take another direction, cutting your pursuer.
off. And you walk right in the arms of your enemy. Right where they wanted you.
The Hand of the king, Ser Criston proudly stands in front of you, his armor still bloodied and blackend of what you imagine would be dragonfire. You pause, quickly shifting your mind and spinning a story as to why you are here. ‘’Ser Criston. Such a pleasure! I assume Rook Rest went well?’’ 
All that meets you is silence.
The type that haunts a field of corpses after a battlefield.
You remain smiling, forcing him to respond. ‘’I have orders to bring you downstairs. Together with your family.’’ You hear alarm bells ringing, blood rushing, and thoughts screaming. Yet you remain smiling.
You easily step out of his reach. ‘’I must remind you: I am a Lady. You have no authority to collect me. If the King wants to see me, he can come collect me himself.’’ Aegon had been proven to be very keen on you, very easy to manipulate as well ever since his sad little wife died and his son was slashed open like a juicy ripe watermelon. You had no effort wrapping your arms around him and shoving his face in a hug, accidentally making sure that your sleeve would slip a little bit. 
You would whisper sweet nothings and promises in his ear whenever he felt horrible about himself. But you are still you. You are still a lady. And in that world that means you are still a slave to the truth: Men are allowed pleasures. Women must burn for them.
To even send Ser Criston, the honorable maiden among the men to collect you, is an insult. A confirmation. ‘’Ser Criston!’’ You shriek, the moment he has picked you up as a sack of potatoes. You kick his back and claw with your nails at his eyes as he brings you to the throne room you have come to know so well.
When you arrive, you notice it is still dark outside. Candles alight the room. But barely. You can make out a shadow sitting on the iron throne, a shadow with silver hairs. A shadow that keeps his face well hidden, for now.
Ser Criston puts you back on your feet, and you thank him with a punch in his gut for the way he treated you. ‘’Aegon! Have this animal beheaded at once!’ You shout at the shadow. All you hear back is a terrifying unfamiliar chuckle.
The shadow rises, mending with the flames so you can see its face, finally. You see a face longer than Aegon’s. A face with pouty lips, one bright blue eye, a terrible scar and an eyepatch to hide it. You back away the moment you know it's him. 
He doesn't terrify you.
The crown on his head, entrusted with rubies and valyrian steel…
That terrifies you.
Aegon should be wearing this crown.
The fact that Aemond wears it, is bad news for you. For multiple reasons.
You need to leave.
Now.
Your feet take off running as Aemond patiently rises from the throne, walking after you with calm and collected steps, his hands folded on his back, his smirk growing wider every moment. You become aware of Ser Criston who grabs you.
‘’No, no let me go!’’ You beg, when kicking Ser Criston. ‘’Aegon!’’ You add, with a shout.
Aemond chuckles. ‘’Aegon can’t hear you, sweet little Badger.’’ He murmurs when Ser Criston’s grip tightens around your body. You see a glister of insanity in his good remaining eye. A glister you know very well. ‘’He’s with the Seven gods now.’’ He adds, turning his face back to the Iron throne.
You stop fighting, as the floor is pulled from your feet, and your world is shattered. He is dead. The Blacks killed him. The trap that was supposed to be his victory, became his own undoing. You feel sick to your stomach. Not for Aegon. For yourself. He was all that kept Aemond away from you.
You remember the days when you were all little. You, Aemond, Luc, Jace, and Aegon. You remember sneaking in the dragon pit whenever the boys had lessons, studying the dragons along with them, but more importantly, studying Aemond and Aegon as your mother instructed. ‘’One day, a king will sit on the throne. Make sure you are at his side.’’ You didn’t understand back then, but you were a pawn, shoved over the board by your own mother.
Prince Aegon was the likely successor, despite you all knowing that Jacaerys would one day be the heir. But he was a bastard, as everyone knew very well, so you always assumed and worried that one day Jace’s luck would run out, and his head would be on the chopping block, together with his mother’s. So, you did everything to get on Aegon’s side.
Including orchestrating a prank, where Prince Aemond was gifted a dragon of his own. A prank you are sure he has never forgiven you for. A prank you are sure, he will kill you for.
‘’Yes, Badger. He is dead. Gone.’’ Aemond repeats after he has sent Cole away. You realize that the plans have changed. Aegon won’t grant you safety here anymore. You won’t have his protection anymore.
You hate how Aemond uses Aegon’s nickname for you, as well as your house sigil. ‘’And you are next in line.’’ You manage to mutter.
‘’Yes, I am. His children are too young to rule.’’ He says, a bit dismissive but you can tell he enjoys this development very much. Almost too much.
‘’Such a pity, that must be for you.’’ You spit out, accusingly. It all fits a little too well, like a puzzle he thought of. Aemond shoots you a glare and you see the pain and conflict mirrored in his eye.
‘’You will mind your tongue, little Badger. I am not as humble as Aegon, that I let you degrade me.’’
You should not let it betray you but it catches you off guard that Aemond knows how Aegon liked to be handled in the bedroom. You quickly look around for witnesses but aside from Aemond there is no one there. ‘’Yes. I know what a dirty little whore you truly are. I know you two did all sort of wicked little dirty things.’’ You fold your arms, unable to stop a grin.
‘’Jealous?’’ You guess.
He briefly touches the crown on his head.
‘’Why would I be? I am alive, he’s dead.’’ He says with a twisted little grin.
You have the eerie feeling you know where this is heading. and it's not looking good. ‘’You are playing with fire, Aemond Targaryen. You must return me to Cregan Stark.’’ You demand.
‘’So you can fuck him?’’ He guesses. ‘’You go from one powerful man to another. You really play and play and don’t give a damn about our feelings, do you?’’ Should you? Do they care about yours? No. So why should you feel guilty?
He smiles soft, almost gentle to himself, polishing the newly acquired ring around his fingers. ‘’No. You are not going anywhere. You still have a debt unpaid to me. You laughed so hard, that day. I never have forgotten your sickened, twisted laughter.’’ You scoff.
You are not prepared for what comes next. Aemond grabs you by the throat, before pressing a dagger to it. You stare at him helplessly as he drags you to the iron throne, throwing you right in front of it. You watch as Aemond sits down, his eye burning with hatred as he pulls you down, on your knees. ‘’Aegon used to brag about fucking you.’’ You are surprised at that, since you asked Aegon to keep it a secret. And turned on. You bet Aemond was jealous after every time you left Aegon’s chamber, probably fucking himself in his hands as he has no one else who wants to do it for him.
Aemond lifts your chin so you are forced to look at his face. He grins, spitting in your face before forcing your mouth open, inspecting it. ‘’I heard you have the naughty habit to not swallow when a man gives you his cum.  I don’t have patience for that kind of behavior. If I feed you, you will swallow.’’ To ensure you understand, he smacks you lightly on your cheeks. You glare.
Aemond speaks much raspier, as you understand that even sitting this close to his cock, with him in power makes him aroused. ‘’Here is how this will go: You will pledge your loyalty to your new prince regent by sucking his cock, and if I am satisfied with your work, I might take you as my whore, my little dirty mistress. You will be bred, fed and fucked the way you like.’’ He adds. 
You know he is not Aegon. He could never be. But he is in power now. So you might as well take advantage of it. ‘’I want a crown. You will make me your Queen.’’ You say, clear as a command.
But this man is not as easy as Aegon. Not as in love with you either. ‘’You? My Queen? Hah! You are delusional.’’ He laughs in your face. ‘’Get to it. I have been waiting for years.’’ He murmurs, impatiently unlacing his trousers.
You bow your head before taking the cock in, wettening it with your lips, your tongue and finally your mouth. Aemond is much more inexperienced than Aegon and almost groans when you have your lips suck him off, your mouth moving in different directions to make it good and nice for him. His hands grab hold of the iron throne, groaning out loudly as all you hear is his groaning, grunting and your own lips smacking and sucking. You keep at it for a few minutes until the Prince regent shifts in the chair, grabbing your face tightly and moving his cock up and down your mouth, fucking it.
That is when you push him off and out. You will not do such things. Aegon was never allowed to fuck you like that, neither is he. You watch his erected length, red and swollen. You sit back, proudly on your knees and give him a challenging look. 
Aemond stares at you a little longer. He grabs you by your hair, dragging you closer to the throne. You end up with your face on the tiles, on your knees. You hear him pant with need and feel his hands pull down your small clothes, and hear the fabric of your dress tearing. ‘’You had so much fun. Now it's my turn. You will learn your place around me.’’ He warns before smacking you so harshly on your behind that you cry out. In response to it, he laughs, amused and grabs you by your hips, fucking you in front of the swords of the fallen enemies.
‘’So tight, little badger. I can see what Aegon meant now.’’ He mutters between trusts, causing you to cry out. Your head bows in shame, in arousal and in confusion as you let out a soft surrendering sound. Aemond throws his hips a little stronger at your back, pouding away cruelly chasing his own orgasm. ‘’Going to fill you with my children.’’ He adds, as the trusts become almost too much to bear.
You buck back, letting yourself enjoy this moment. You try to not think about the consequences and the fact that you are surrendering to Aemond. ‘’I can only bear your children if you make me your Queen.’’ You add with a lowly submissive little trust back at his manhood. Aemond gives it a thought, at the very least before he throws you back to your knees, fucking you fast and hard.
‘’You won’t give up, hm? You want to be my Queen so bad? Why? What do you care about the title? What do you care for me?’’ You don’t care at all for him. You care about being alive. A lot.
You fake submission. ‘’I must admit, King Aegon has been perhaps too gentle with me. The way you take and treat me, it does me well.’’ You like it, that is true.
But you know that Aemond and Aegon always had a rivalry. And hearing that you enjoy him more, makes Aemond more rallied and more aroused, fucking you now even more harder, as your cries become loud enough to hear in another rooms.
‘’Exactly. I always knew you were a whore. Aegon, my mother, everyone is too blind. But I see what you are.’’ He rasps, biting your ear, smacking your ass until you are sure he breaks his own hand.
‘’Yes, you are so clever to see it.’’ You whisper. He groans at that. You give a little more, driving him to the edge. ‘’You are right. I am worth nothing but what you give me. I should be punished.’’ He roars at that, and within four hard almost bone breaking trusts he finishes inside of you with a war cry.
Your body still is in a confused state. You understand that punishment is likely not aimed at your pleasures. You won’t come. You stand up as Aemond plants himself naked in the iron throne. His arm is wrapped around your belly and you are placed back on his lap.
Aemond fucks you patiently on the iron throne, ignoring your cries of pain and pleasure. He moves you over his cock, fucking you the right way. In ways Aegon never could. ‘’As my Queen, you will need to attend to your duties. An heir must be born.’’ He says, when fucking you when sitting patiently. You nod, not giving a fuck what he says, really. ‘’And we must…find a way to deal with my annoying sister, her bastards and Aegon’s children.’’ 
That sounds ominous.
‘’A way to deal with them?’’ You have this feeling that there might be more than that Aemond tells you. There always is.
There is. ‘’I have no trouble killing Rhaenyra. Or her bastards.’’ He says, coming up with a plan between the fucks he gives you. 
You have an idea.  ‘’Perhaps I can be of use. I can seduce Jace.’’ You offer. It might work, maybe it won’t, but it is worth a thought. And you would slip under the radar, escape Aemond and join forces with the Blacks. If they don’t kill you first.
And that offer is rewarded with a hard smack on the back of your head and a rough fuck. ‘’Ow!’’
He growls as a mere animal at you, scolding you.
‘’You are mine, in case you have forgotten.’’
You shake your head, trying to explain you meant no harm, as you don’t want to damage the relationship you have built with him. ‘’No, hear me out. He thinks I’m still loyal. I can seduce him, tie him to a bed, and then, you come in, give a mean speech and finish him off for good.’’ You say appealing to his darker side.
Aemond grins. ‘’Yes. And before we kill him, I will fuck you. Show him who really owns you.’’ He adds, making it even more disturbing. You wonder if that kind of sex will be enjoyable. But if it gives you power…..
‘’What do you have planned for Rhaenyra?’’ he asks, kissing your cheeks. ‘’Tell me, my dark sweet badger.’’
You were friends with her, once. You played with her children. But Aemond is watching you now. And Aemond holds the power. And saying it now, does not make it true later. 
‘’I want that whore burned alive, when her children watch and weep. I want Vhagar to burn her. I want to hear Vhagar burp and smell Rhaenyra’s sickening perfume on her breath.’’ Aemond fucks you harder at that and you come on his lap, panting and screaming his name.
‘’I want that too.’’ Aemond murmurs. ‘’Such a shame we can’t just burn Dragonstone to the ground with her in it.’’ That would be the easy but hard way. 
There is one final thing to be answered. ‘’You mentioned you’d like us to have a heir?’’ You ask, uncomfortable as Aegon’s corpse is likely sizzling somewhere near.
‘’Yes.’’ He whispers.
‘’So, what happens to Aegon’s children?’’ He sighs, and for the first time he lets go of you as if he’s ashamed as to what he will utter now.
‘’For the sake of the realm, they all must die.’’ He says, and you nod, in understanding. If not, there would be another dance of the dragons soon anyway. 
Yet you feel a sting, of hurt, of betrayal. ‘’They are your family.’’ You remind him kindly. Children too. But in what war did  families not die? In what war did  children not die? 
The two boys are dead already. Only his daughter remains. And she is not well, if what you heard is true. He only sighs. ‘’You didn’t see what I saw. Killing her would be a mercy. She would be reunited with Helaena.’’ Her brother was killed by Daemon, a family member, her mother killed by herself, and her own life taken by her uncle, another family member.
‘’You’d be a kinslayer.’’ You add softly. ‘’Nothing is so accursed as a Kinslayer.’’ You remind him as you both dress. Aemond chuckles, staring at the Iron throne.
‘’I already am one.’’ He says coldly.
You roll your eyes. Aegon told you what really happened. 
‘’That incident with Luc…’’  
Aemond interrupts you sharply. Too sharp, too abruptly almost as if you caught him in a lie.
‘’No.’’
And your gut tells you you were right all along. ‘’You killed him.’’ He killed Aegon. He killed your Aegon. You reach for your dagger…
‘’Do not do something stupid, little badger. I am still considering giving you a bit of power as my Queen.’’ He should be mortified and upset, mad and ashamed. But he only laughs. ‘’It was easy. He was wounded. ‘’Aemond, brother help me up.’’ He said. I dreamt of this moment for years. And I wasn’t going to wake up now.  ‘’No, I don’t think so.’’ I said, And I drove my dagger through his chest.’’ You hear with anger what he did. ‘’I burned his corpse so the others wouldn’t ask questions.’’ He sees your angry tears and he cups your face, grinning as he licks a few tears away. ‘’Little Badger, you wanted power?’ You can only cover your mouth to avoid a scream. ‘’I will make you my Queen. For one reason and one reason alone,’’ He drops a silence as he leans in to kiss your teary cheeks. ‘’I want you to kill the girl. As proof of your loyalty and devotion to me. I want you to carve her heart out so I know you are on my side.’’ You gulp.
You know that girl. You played with her with her dolls and her stuffed toys. You played with her mother and her and her brother. ‘’What if they catch me?’’ Well, stupid question, truly. You’d be dead.
‘’Don’t you care for them at all?’’ You ask, your heart beating strongly. He has no clue you have the dagger in your hand. His back is turned.
He scoffs. ‘’I care for them a great deal. Which is why I am offering her a free passage out of this cruel fucked up world.’’ You wait a few moments before raising the knife and attacking him by his back.
Within a second he turns, grabbing the knife as it tears open his hands, but not his back. It does not kill him. ‘’I thought you were supposed to be clever.’’ he tilts his head before bringing the knife to your own face, grabbing you by the throat. ‘’I have two options now. I can’t let you go anymore. You will tell everyone I am a monster.’’
‘’You are a monster!’’ ‘’And monsters are most dangerous when they are threatened. I will make you my Queen. I will make you my wife and the mother of my children. One day, one day soon, something terrible will happen to your own family. And your friends. And your allies. And you will have no one, no one but me.’’ He vows. ‘’I will make you regret being born in the same world as me. I will break you, mold you and shape you into my perfect little pet. That is what power looks like, little badger.’’ He says, before stabbing  the knife inside your left eye socket, pricking your eye on the dagger and dragging it out, tearing the flesh as you screams echo through the halls of the Red Keep.
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hi.
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catt-nuevenor · 5 months
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Changes to the Main Character - Myrk Mire
Brace yourselves kids, this is going to be a fair amount to go through. While I don't think I'm giving away any big story spoilers, do treat reading more with some caution if you want to experience the story completely blind. And do also bear in mind that none of these changes are implemented yet and won't be for some time. If you like the story as is, by all means go and enjoy it. I'll be uploading a new demo, not replacing the old one, when it's ready.
All that out the way, let's talk choice fiction MC's and their difficulties in fixed narrative cannon.
Let's get this out the way first and foremost. You will still be able to customise your Main Character and their offspring in all the ways you can currently. I'm not removing any of that choice from you. You'll also be able to pick who your Main Character becomes attached to. However, this is where things will need to change a bit.
Previously our romantic options were all single and ready to mingle and remained so until the player directed their Main Character into a relationship with them. Open season, so to speak. What will now (future demo) take place is the Main Character will begin early to favour one of the eight relationship (romantic or platonic) options, and as said relationship grows, the remaining seven will begin their own journeys with other characters.
Which other characters? Well, here's where the real fun begins.
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Old narrative:
A lone wanderer, with their offspring/dependent, stumbles into Aldmirham in pursuit of work and lodging for the winter.
New narrative:
A small group of wanderers, with their offspring/dependents, stumble into Aldmirham in pursuit of work and lodging for the winter.
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Our RO's aren't the only ones gaining 'siblings'.
There'll be five adult characters trundling their way into Aldmirham in the hafest of 822 DT, and the beginning of the story will take place at the very start of winter, through to blostma (spring).
The Main Character will be one of these five adults, and their dependent will be one of the three children with them.
Some of you may have noticed a slight mathematical flaw in this. I have eight relationship options and five new folks. Well, you don't need to form romantic relationships to live a happy and fulfilling life, and neither do the RO's.
Let's get a run-down on our travelling group, shall we?
Ænidym Bécencnol (NB) - An old friend of Marrin/Marryn/Marren and Sumara (previously Zephora), they joined shortly after the events that led to the MC first travelling with the group (what ever those events may be), in the town of Þeófcrecca on the western shore of Crawshire. They're a carpenter by trade, apprenticing with a shipwright in the town. They're supportive, grounded, and often the voice of reason when their companions need a reminder of common sense.
Ehwan Bécencnol (M) - Ænidym's young cousin, orphaned after his mother drowned in an accident out at sea while fishing. He's quiet, distrustful of strangers, and has a deep and abiding fear of deep water. He's a year or so older than the MC's child and is obsessively protective of them.
Azgoá Ménastaþs (F) - Orignally from the realm of Þinda, she took apprenticeship with the iron smiths of Crawburh before meeting up with the others, and deciding to travel east with them, hoping to learn from the smithing guilds in the rest of the realm. Others often think she has a funny accent, and she delights in teaching the children foul comebacks in her native tongue.
Ielfetu Wischam (M) - A basket weaver by trade, Ielfetu joined the group with his daughter, Basjá, after Basjá's mother became violent towards them both. He's good at what he does, but struggles to see that, relying on his new friends and confidants to pick him up and set him on his feet. Originally from the smaller, tamer marshes of Wýscanwisc, he's comfortable in the Mire, and hopes the group will stay after the winter is through.
Basjá Wischam (F) - Ielfetu's daughter, she's the youngest of the group's children, though only by a few months. Tall for her age, and bold, she's often chosen as the leader among the children, though her overconfidence often leads them all into trouble. She's anxious about her father, often feeling like she has to protect him from those who might bully him or push him around, this well-meaning support rarely ends well.
Aranor Halshlinc (M) - The newest member of the group, he first joined them when he was still legally a child, seeking to escape a bad situation he'd found himself in, with muddy legal ramifications. He's spent every day since this incident trying to make it up to them, taking on far more dog's body work than he should, often exhausting himself. He has a good heart, but a limited appreciation for long term consequences, and his past is never far behind him.
Main Character (?) -
Main Character's Child (?) -
Now, I'm not telling you who ends up connecting with who, that'd be spoilers.
So this is our crew of travelling misfits, here's to the shenanigans when they meet our resident band of misfits in Aldmirham! The town won't know what's hit it.
Why do this? Well, it means when the story of Myrk Mire touches the fixed narrative story, I have more points to weave connections with, more people to mention or name-drop, and tbh more people to hide the MC behind without having to strongly define who they are. I'm not going to be able to keep the MC ambiguous forever, but I hope I can create a strong enough sense of community within the story that readers still feeling comfortable when the MC of Myrk Mire does make their eventual appearance because the family around them remains the same.
Anywho, let me know what you think about our new travelling companions, and feel free to ask questions about them. Spoiler limiting, I'll answer as best I can.
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sugarwithtea · 1 year
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moonlight sonata | myg [teaser]
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pairing : pianist!yoongi x fem!reader
rating/genre : m (18+) // angst, smut, fluff, enemies to lovers
summary : Passion is a fickle thing. It is a feeling that drives you to success, but if lost -- you can turn as stagnant as a pond. Min Yoongi has always took pride in his passion, his skill, his art. But what happens when slowly the flame dies inside him? He returns back home, to the place where he had started to love music. But, you are there. The bane of his existence. You hate him like a sweltering flame, bigger than his passion for music. And you, are not so thrilled with the news of his return. What happens when you both inevitably cross paths and start a saga of hate and love?
word count : 978 [teaser] // TBD for the full fic (15k+)
warnings : for the teaser - none // full fic - explicit smut, use of drugs, alcoholism, mental health issues (not glorified) (all of them will be mentioned explicitly in the final piece)
note 1 : this fic is a part of the composition of the century collab hosted by @joheunsaram @raplinesmoon and @kithtaehyung !!
note 2 : this idea has been in my drafts for so long, I'm glad I'm getting the chance to finally put it out !! i hope i am able to do as well as i expected! HAPPY YOONGI DAY !! also, big thanks to @oddinary4bts and @moccahobi for helping me with this one and saving my ass !!
masterlist | taglist (permanent)
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Yoongi is falling relentlessly.
He is also failing, relentlessly.
His hands slide down the keys making a sharp ping sound. They then rest on his lap, as his head hangs low and eyes burn with the tears that well up in them.
The moonlight spills into the empty auditorium as if to mock him of his upcoming days, if he goes on like this. An empty auditorium, no audience, no one who will listen to him.
He toys with the fake red ruby encrusted on the edge of the fall board, before he stands up abruptly from his seat, slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves.
He has been doing this for weeks.
He doesn't know how he got here. Not in the auditorium, that was with his Palisade parked snugly in the lot. No, it's not that. He doesn't know how he got to the point where he feels like a college student, struggling to write a composition and bleeding his tips by playing the keys for endless hours, and still not excelling or performing impressively.
It was not always like this, of course. The past five years have brought him nothing but success. He vividly remembers the first time he tapped the heels of his Chelsea boots against the sleek marble of the Juilliard and a swarm of admirers, fans, professors gathered around him.
The renowned school of music had invited him as a guest lecturer. Yoongi, a mere boy of 22, fresh out of the same school with a show stopping performance at Carnegie Hall, which was attracting the ears and eyes of people all around the world. He had clammy hands and a flushed neck as he practiced in front of his mirror in his small Brooklyn apartment.
That day, he gained a massive applause and a similarly huge following of budding musicians who looked up to him. He felt uncomfortable, out of place. As if it was not his place to gain the trust of these students, not his place to lead them when he himself didn't know where he was going, not his place to steer them in a direction when he himself looked in the eyes of his favorite professor, Mr. Castillo, to calm his nerves down. But still, he was able to do that.
And now, years later, he sees a dark fog sit upon his mind as he relentlessly tries to navigate through it.
He once thought of what he would do when he got so old that his fingers trembled when they touched the keys, when his back would hunch so he couldn't sit on the seat, when his face would be ridden with wrinkles. He came to the conclusion that at least he would still be able to write music and guide others.
Alas, he now sees himself nowhere near that Yoongi. The Yoongi he sees now is lost, unwanted, with no traces of passion and no will to move forward. He is like stagnant water, dirt and germs piling up on him. His melody is playing the same note again and again, with no chords supporting it, no tempo giving it rhythm; it sounds like a mess.
He is stuck in a happenstance – at least that's what he likes to think. Because his inner turmoil is still not bigger than his ego, and even though he is getting there, it is hard for him to swallow the thought that this is all because of him. He is not ready to accept that this is a domino effect, how one thing led to another, and now here he is.
After all these years, his brain is wired to think he can't do anything wrong. Although that is going haywire, as after years of working on himself and his self derogatory mindset, he is there again. He knows it's because of him, he just isn't ready to accept it.
Because accepting it will put him into a spiral, a dangerous spiral which will suck him in – like the eddy currents of a whirlpool, giving him no chance to escape. He knows he is weak, that's why he doesn't tread on the edge of the ledge, that's why he doesn't let things affect him. But it's high time now.
The emptiness of the auditorium has irked him, mocked him, laughed at him, made his blood boil. His fingers grip the steering wheel tighter as he changes lanes on his way home. An empty home – as empty as the auditorium.
His passion is dying, faster than the flame of a candle on a windy night. And that is concerning. Because Min Yoongi has a steadfast personality, a strong will, and a mindset to never give up. Then why is it that whenever he sits in front of the keys, his fingers refuse to move? Why is it that whenever he thinks of a melody, his fingers refuse to reciprocate it?
There was a period in his life, a few months, when he thought he was on the top of the world. The fall of a musician, and the rise of a celebrity. He didn't know the pianist in him would sleep so soundly when he embraced his public persona. Didn't know that the musician would starve when he fed his fame.
But now he knows what he needs. He needs to get back to the ground, touch his feet on the earth that gave him the platform in the first place. The place where everything started. The place where he dreamt his dream, the place where he found his first friend – a brown piano. The place which will never turn him away.
Home. His safe place. Back to his people, to the ones who never let him feel like he was a failure.
Min Yoongi is returning to Korea and there is nothing left that could change his mind.
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taglist : @nuniah @jinsquishes @jeonkookiesworld @sailoryooons @jjkeverlast @aliimac @gimmethatagustd @namjoonwhoresworld @apotatomashedbybts @synnfulqt @saweetspoiled @chimchimmarie @sugababylove84 @axigailxo @yoongukie-ff @instabull @graycosco @wobblewobble822 @jungkooksseuphoria @kalea10 @yoongimarryme3
also, end notes : if you'd like me to tag you in the final fic -- join the taglist (which is permanent so it means you will be tagged in all my fics henceforth) or send me an ask, or reply to this post and I'll tag you in THIS FIC ONLY !! i am not making another form for moonlight sonata because it's too much of work, so it will be better if u reply to this post 🤍
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feedback, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated so please let me know your thoughts :)))
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© sugarwithtea. all works belong to me.
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stvckwithaphobia · 1 year
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— PUNISHMENT [bang chan] 💵
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content/warning. bang chan x female reader — securityguard!chan + shoplifter!reader — smut/pwp — dom/sub dynamics — rough sex — unprotected penetrative sex (don’t do this) — implied oral (m receiving) — sir kink — reader gets called slut, babygirl, good girl
word count. 1.0k
note. this is a reupload of my own post published on 22/10/02 on this blog — thank you so much for 100 followers and the generous feedback on my last post?? would have never expected it to gain so much success — I hope you will enjoy this one in case you come across this :)
important. minors do not interact, this is 18+ content — none of the characters are supposed to imitate real people, any coincidences with names and places are just for the sake of fiction — if you enjoy this content pls consider leaving a comment or reblogging this!
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It’s all wrong. All a big fucking stupid idea and you know it. Still, you can’t help it. Almost magically, the pair of glimmery shining earrings land inside your purse. You make sure no one notices.
But you don’t make sure of it enough.
Getting behind the barrier of the exit of the store is one thing—you’ve managed that part just fine.
Whereas leaving without the security guard witnessing the guilt hiding in your face is another level of obscurity.
“Ms, could I have a look inside your purse please?”
His voice startles you, quite loud but also not loud enough for the other customers to notice.
“W-Why do you need to do that?”
He takes two steps towards you, looking right into your face and getting aware of the anxiety plastered all over it. The name on his uniform reads ‘Christopher Bang’.
“Ms, I’ve seen you put some jewelry inside your bag. You can either open the purse now or follow me to the back room and we’ll discuss it there until the police officer arrives.”
You gulp. The big lump of saliva that has built up in your throat slides down—with the last piece of hope. But you won’t give up. You can’t. You’re deeply fucked. This is a whole shitshow and you’re the protagonist.
“No,” you simply say.
“Preferring the hard way? Alright, then please follow me.”
What are your options anyway? You’ve decided to choose the less embarrassing one, after all he would have caught you anyway. You're guilty. You're guilty and he knows it. You know it, too. A fucking bad job in hiding it is what you’re doing.
Only a small desk lamp enlightens the cramped room, a table is placed in the middle with a folding chair in front of it. Your breath hitches once you realise he’s standing right behind you, carefully tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. So it’s easier to whisper to you.
“I’ll give you an option here. Like a chance of redemption if you wanna call it that.”
You swallow again. His heavy breathing is drowned out by your heartbeat pulsating up into your ears. It’s deafening.
“W-What is that?”
The security guard’s big hand lands on your front upper thigh. Roughly he squeezes the flesh through the thick material of your jeans but you don’t deny any of his actions—it’s rather the opposite. The anticipation is killing you and you’re striving for more.
“You can seek your punishment here, with me, and I’ll forget about what you did earlier.”
The idea shoots a tingling sensation straight down to your core. You’re helpless. You’re defeated. But you’re eager for what’s yet to come.
“Okay.”
Chris is surprised about you agreeing so quickly but he doesn’t mind at all. His hot breath still lingers on your skin, goosebumps erupt all over it.
“We’re gonna establish some rules beforehand. First of all, watch your manners and the way you address me.”
Whilst the words echo into your ears and you need some time to realise what he’s saying, Chris is already busy fiddling with the buttons on your shirt. He opens them one by one so the cold air can slowly hit your hot skin underneath.
“Okay, sir.”
The black fabric lands on the floor, pooling on the ground all pathetically just like the remaining bits of your pride. With one swift motion he gets rid of your bralette, as it’s being thrown down as well. Your tits now on full display he grabs them roughly, pinching the sensitive bud between two of his fingers.
“You’re a quick learner, I see. Good girl.” He spins you around, all suddenly, so he’s able to place you on top of the cold metal table. Then he gets closer until his lips brush your ear again. “If you want me to stop anytime, just say the word ‘red‘.”
You quickly nod, holding your breath before you reply all quietly, “Yes, sir.”
And that’s how you find yourself—merely a few moments later—being pushed onto the cold table, face first meeting the wooden material. Your makeup is smudged and ruined by now but your looks are the last thing you care about. 
Chris is the master of his element, the way he’s thrusting his big cock in and out your tight walls drives you to oblivion. His movements are sharp but steady, his hands grab your hip and neck to keep you in place just like he enjoys.
“Naughty slut deserves to be punished for doing something so wrong,” he whispers into your ear once he lowers his weight onto you. 
“You shouldn’t have let me catch you, baby, that’s what you get for it.”
You arch your back and want to answer. But with the way he brushes that certain spot inside you, the realization hits you—you’re not capable of taking any control and you don’t want to.
“Say it, babygirl, confess about what you did and I’ll let you cum, hm? How does that sound? I know you’re close, no need to try to fool me.”
Slap. His hand collides with your ass—one of Chris’s attempts to bring you back to the present again.
“Okay—yes, sir, I did s-steal those earrings. I am d-deeply s-sorry. Please, I’ll do w-whatever you want—just l-let me cum already,” you stutter as your eyes meet the back of your head in satisfaction.
“Then go on, be a good girl and show me that you’re able to follow my rules.”
So you do. Your vision gets blinded by overwhelmness and glittery stars as you come undone, creaming all over his cock. Chris lets you ride out your high whilst your cunt keeps clenching around him, almost triggering his own climax.
Once he’s made sure you’ve somehow calmed down a bit, he pulls out of you—mixtures of your liquids and his precum splashing onto the floor and slowly running down your inner thighs.
“You said you’ll do anything, hm? Then go on your knees for me, slut. Be a good girl and suck me off.”
🖇 taglist — @gibbysupremeacyisreal
© stvckwithaphobia 2022 — don’t copy, translate or edit my work
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12-seconds-to-live · 1 year
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Home
pairing - f1drivers/2022 x fem!driver
warnings - death, grieving
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Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?
May 29 - Mónaco GP
“Any plans after the race” I asked my teammate, Alex
“Well, there’s always the Red Bull afterparty, you know that is almost a tradition, even if you DNF” I look at him and nod.
“Yeah, I can’t handle too much, not after dealing with a very drunk Charles and Lando, no thank you”
“C’mon, we need a little bit of fun. And we’re expecting the best from you, you’re Mrs. P3 today and can finish as Mrs. P1″
Safe to say that Monaco it’s not my favourite GP. Reason: none but today it’s raining and I prefer a sunny Mónaco. Who knows, maybe I want to look for a really cute french around Mónaco harbor.
Nah
Not me at the moment
"Oh, shuss. I’m feeling confident buuuut...let’s see. We have a little meeting with Jost and then get ready”
“Cool, see you”
I walked to my motorhome and for a moment I feel like everybody was looking at me in a weird way. I ignored it and changed in my race suit getting race before the race. The reunion got cancelled and the FIA scheduled for a little debrief, weird.
 As I go inside the room, I am looking for Alex, seems that everybody is in a rush. Being in front row in Mónaco is a big achievement and being in a Williams is like touching gold, so I can mess this up
“Alice...Al...¡Alice!” Alex is shaking my shoulder. Lando and Daniel, who are in front of us, are looking at me trying to gain my attention
“What...I get lost in my thoughts, sorry” I look around and every driver where looking at me “Why is everybody looking at me? For the record, I got a shower in the morning” The looks in their eyes are the same when my mom told that my hamster died when I was 8 years old...
No
Not that look
I’m not ready
I’ve never been
“We need you in your motorhome then you decide if you want to race” started Lewis with a sad expression on his face
“What ever it is...I’m okay if you tell me...I mean, we tell each other our stuff...sometimes...I...I” Alex take my hand and squeeze it, his eyes are a bit watery, so are Lando’s, so as Pierre’s, so as Sebastian’s
So as mine
No
I wanna run from here
“Tell me already, I can deal with your faces right now as much as I love you all” Sebastian was crying, Alex’s face is something that I would never forget and his next words were like a whisper, an arrow to my heart, worst that a heartbroken.
I got up, ignoring their voices, their screams, I have no place to go, my legs are functioning alone. It’s still raining and the way to the paddock is alone, no one and there’s tears running down, I looked to the grey sky and then to my feet
What now?
I sit on the floor, looking to knowhere. Being a thousand kilometers far from home and being an only child and deciding to leave was the greatest sacrifice for my mom, saying goodbye and know, all that distance just for set myself in my biggest dream, but she’s not here today and she’s not going to be tomorrow
Not anymore
How is it now that somehow I am felling like the biggest looser?
Like, doesn’t matter anymore.
“I’m sorry mom, forgive me. But I know that I have to let you go. I'm giving up and... and I guess this is where we say goodbye, I hope to be alright, someday I'll be fine, it’s just... not tonight” I heard a lot of steps and the boys where standing in front of me with their umbrellas and Carlos have a bouquette of red roses, Yuki offers me his hand so I can stand.
Charles look at me “We are with you and even If you feel you’re alone, you’re wrong. You have 19 brothers that are going to hold your hand till the day we die. We know how close you were, we knew her and she loves you”
“She’s proud, so are we” Said Sebastian “It’s not correct for me to send you racing today but If you feel strong enough to do it for her, we’re with you, If not...well, we’re still with you, till the end of the line”
I look at them. I still have a home, they’re home
“Promise me to stay?” I asked 
“Always” All of them start hugging me and telling me that they are here for me and more lovely words. 
“Boys, It’s race time. Let’s go” I smiled and headed with Alex to our garage. I changed my suit and get ready. This is for mom, Even if i get in the bottom, this is for my number one fan. My get in the car and thumbs up to everybody. I’m okay, I’m okay
I’ll be okay
“Radio check”
“Loud and clear” I answered to Andrew, my race engineer, 
“Okay Alice, let’s do what you do best, I give you my condolences and I tell you that this is your race, do it for your mom, today she’s looking after you...as always, kid” 
“Thank you. My mom is now an angel, let’s get that P1” I smiled and the moment we expected, lights out.
With an end time of 01:13:521, I passed the chekered flag and all of the screams of the fans and my team holding a big board with my mom’s name on it and a P1. This is definitelly a race to remember. There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief, my mom is gonna be forever, even she can’t call me as she ever did or wait for me at the airport, her memory and all the time she spend taking care and helping me is something that stays.
I placed the car in front of the P1, I go out of the car and put my hands in my face, not realizing this and I saw everybody clapping at me, Checo and Lewis, stand by my side and in the big screen located at the podium a photo of my mom was present. I kneel crying. Lewis kneel by my side and then hug me, Checo did the same, I look up and the rest of the boy were there with happy faces.
I look at Lewis, we took off out helmets and balaclavas. I smiled and run to hug my team. Everybody�� is cheering, joyful. I run to the boys and hug Max and then all of them join
“My home is here, thank you” 
“Anytime, A” said Mick
“Lovely and cheessy but someone needs a shower” said George and we started laughing. “Go for your trophy miss” 
“What a way to kill the moment George” Alex said, he hug me and jump with me “I must be a wizard, Mrs. P1″
“First of many, you’ll see” I follow Checo and Lewis to the podium. I look up to the sky, how gratefull I am for living my dream, being the best on it. And still...she’ll always be here. I shake the champagne and enjoy the moment with the others. My second family is here, smiling at me, clapping, cheering, laughing, all the happy ways to show me how much I mean to them.
At the end
Home is  were my 19 brothers are. And I’m glad that I’m always there
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balkanradfem · 1 year
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I’ve had this idea for a book a while ago, and started thinking of it again today. I don’t feel like I can write it, but I can at least present the concept in a text post.
The book begins with an underground temple of an ancient female goddess; she’s been watching the state of her wards, and she’s angry. She’s been sealed underground, but she’s been festering anger and power, and finally, her seal breaks. The night sky lights up, and consequently, every m*n on the surface on the earth finds that he can no longer move.
Some are motionless on their beds, some have fallen to the floor, finding themselves completely immobile. They cannot speak either. They’re found by their flatmates and wives who are concerned, but ultimately unable to do anything about it; they can bring water and food, but he’s not able to eat or drink. Women quickly realize it’s all of them, and it’s not an individual illness. Female researches, scientists and doctors hurry to figure out what is wrong; but there’s no cause whatsoever, they’re all just immobile and mute. They can’t go to work, they can’t eat or drink, they can’t do anything.
In absence of m*n in the work force, women are quickly forced to take over their shifts and get their work done for them; some work is taken over by co-workers, and sometimes it’s a sister or a wife who is called to guess his passwords, and stays for the job. A lot are facing unpleasant discoveries about the m*n in their life, such as their p**n habits, proofs of pedophilia, stalking, exploitation of prostituted women, cheating, grooming younger women, misogynistic ideas online. The women get even less friendly-feelings towards their male counterparts once they have access to all of their finances - they quickly figure out just how selfish and secretive they’ve all been.
Meanwhile, there is some progress in the male condition. Some males have managed to move around a little, not to speak, but some have realized that the bed/floor they’re laying on, has gotten pretty dirty, and decided to clean it. As soon as they had this thought, an ability of movement was granted to them, and very relieved, they were managing to drink water and wash themselves, only to find themselves immobilized once again, this time on their bathroom floors. Few of them have managed to get up again. Few of them figured out just why. None of them have been able to get out of the house, or to get to work.
Women taking the places of CEO’s get access to the financial records of the companies, and very clearly see just how much it’s possible to pay the workers, vs what they’re actually paid, in order to increase the profits. And women decide to put that practice to the depth of hell. New laws are made where all the profits are equally redistributed to the workers, giving them all a chance for a safe and comfortable life. And these workers, are now women only, so for the first time ever, women are the only ones with significantly big buying power.
Women generally use their money to provide food and safety for their families, so with the increased availability of food, furniture, clothes and weather-protective items, the economy is experiencing a new type of boom, where things geared towards women are now sold easily, and women are gaining the power to purchase their own land, houses, farms.
The women are also having some angry confrontations with the still-immobilized, still speechless m*n on the floor; about their misogyny, about the cheating, about the lies, sexualizing minors, leading businesses that cause massive damage and harm to the workers, about how life is suddenly, easier somehow, instead of being harder and more miserable. Domestic violence victims, for the first time, are safe to walk out of their homes, to report, to start their own lives, because now the entire earth is a safe place. Victims of pedophilia, incest, rape, imprisonment, pimping, are now free to speak up, to do in fact, whatever they wanted to the now motionless abusers who are lying on the floor, unable to hit, rape, abuse, murder, talk back, unable to deny anything.
The m*n who did realize they can move, have managed to figure out how to do it more. They won’t be able to move if they’re thinking about their jobs, or what they need to say to their wives to make sure things go their way, they don’t get to move if they want to do anything for their own satisfaction. But, they can move if they decide to wash the floor. Or wash the toilet. If they think about making a meal for his wife. If they’re doing laundry. Same as it appeared, the ability to move disappears as soon as they fail to be doing that specific tasks. They’ll be allowed to eat or drink, but only as much as it’s necessary for them to be doing the manual labour.
They women notice, and convey this information; m*n, if you want to move, think about domestic labour. Some m*n are just grateful to move, and start cleaning the houses, washing the windows, doing laundry, making meals - but they also don’t get to do meals they like themselves. They get to move if they make food their wives like. Some m*n decide this is beneath them, and refuse to do anything until they’re at the very brink of death by dehydration. Some decide to die rather than to take this role upon themselves. They go angrily, but quietly. They don’t get to yell their indignation at their housemates. The women sadly realize there’s nothing they can do at this point - the m*n have chosen their own destiny. They could have lived, if they just did a bit of housework.
The world is looking for an explanation of what is going on, and the book follows a team of female archeologists, who have recorded some explainable findings, patterns and rocks leading close to the underground temple, that we have seen in the beginning. They feel they’re onto something, and their exploration is being reported on social media, the women hoping to find out what has caused this world-wide event of m*n losing their power to move.
Some women decide this is an act of god and something that cannot be influenced or explained, and the reasoning for it is mysterious, but they’re doing the best they can to keep leading their lives, now free of harassment and sexual abuse. Some women decide, that since it destroyed their relationships and love, it must be an act of a demon or a devil, and they gather and start a cult of blaming other women for it, trying to find which horrid witch was evil enough to do this to them, personally. They’re wreaking havoc on the most vulnerable women in the population, before they’re seized and stopped in their tracks, other women refusing to tolerate the religious nonsense, and violence towards their own. 
The women  gain power to reduce carbon footprint and exploitation of the third-world workers and resources; now that the goal is no longer to increase profit, these issues become resolvable by paying for the resources fairly, and quitting the practices that cause insane amounts environmental damage. The women are taking several months to get it down, but within a year, practices have changed, and new laws have been put into motion to prevent the development of more harm.
It’s now months since the m*n have been rendered motionless, and some have started recovering, and walking around to some point; but never outside their house. They’ve been grateful they’re allowed to eat meals, and sleep in a bed. They’re spending their days doing housework, and they also found out, that there’s differences in what each of them has to do in order to move. If this specific one had a woman continuously cook for him, and clean for him, then these specific actions are what he has to do. If the woman has been taking care of his child around the clock, now he has to do it, in the same way she would, or he goes limp again. If he wasn’t specifically counting on a woman to do these tasks, then he’s recovering a little bit faster than the others, allowed to get some free time, only unable to tell when it’s going to end.
They discover they can talk, if they’re saying pleasing and loving things to women. They can clean themselves, as long as the soaps they use are nice-smelling to women. They can fix their appearance, as long as women like to see them like that. They can make themselves sexually appealing, but only if a woman is in the mood for that. If they reach to touch her, to make her, the ability to move is denied for days. Some of them learn the first time; some of them fail to survive this.
The team of the female archeologists, after going through multiple perils, finally find their way down into the ancient goddess temple, and they’re rewarded for their effort; they’re allowed to speak to the goddess directly. They ask, for how long is this going to last? And she replies “For as long as the opposite lasted.”
-
With a book like that, I’d want to put all m*n into a situation where all women have been at one point or another. Where their survival depends directly on being useful and convenient to m*n. Where their appearance, demeanor and behaviour is allowed to exist, only while it’s convenient and attractive to m*n. Where their only option is to appeal to m*n, offer up their labour, their time and energy, their love and compassion, to be rewarded with nothing but continued survival. Where the only place they’re allowed to exist in, is a property of a male. Where the laws are being made not for their success, but for them to be stripped from protection and rights. Where people in power have no regard for their interests.
This is not a revenge fantasy; no m*n is murdered, tortured, raped, dismembered, sold into sex slavery, or turned into a corpse against his own will, they all have a choice, and it’s a choice women have been invisibly making for centuries. I’d like m*n to be aware, just for a moment, what that position feels like, what it means looking at a life of servitude, versus ensured silence and death.
It also calls attention to how bad our situation really is, or was at some point in our lives. We had all but no choice, but to do housework for males at some points in our lives. To cook for them, to clean their property, to take care of their children/animals/possessions, to comfort them, to please them, to appeal to them, to endure whatever abuse they put our way, if we want to keep living and to be acknowledged as human beings. We don’t get rights if we don’t prove to be useful. That is painful. That feels like being motionless and useless and in danger of perishing, unless we do as we’re told, as we’re conditioned to. I want us to be aware as well, that this is a crime against our humanity. We never should have been in that position. Nobody should.
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putschki1969 · 7 months
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FictionJunction Station Express Railway Newsletter Vol.09 Scans
Here are my HQ scans of the latest FJS fan club magazine.
Vol.02 | Vol. 03 | Vol.04 | Vol.05 | Vol.06 | Vol.07 | Vol.08
❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ Do ❗NOT SHARE❗ on other sites
I haven't scanned the previous two issues (yet) because there's nothing too exciting in them. This time there's a lot of coverage of their Fan Club events and a huge interview with Yuki Kajiura and Yasunori Mori (Mr. M - Yuki's manager).
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I've learned so much about Yuki reading through this interview. Most of it is probably common knowledge to longtime Yuki Kajiura fans but I've always focused on Kalafina so I am by no means an expert when it comes to Yuki herself. I initially started reading this to find out whether they would say something interesting about Kalafina but they didn't really. Of course there was a substantial section dedicated to them but it was mostly stuff we already knew. As for Yuki, I particularly liked the part where they talked about their very first years together, how she and Mori met and how Yuki ended up signing up with Space Craft in 1993. I had no idea she had such a rough start to her career. Apparently no one was interested in See-Saw's music in the 90s because it was too hard to sing. That's one of the main reasons Chiaki Ishikawa decided to pursue a solo-career instead. During the first few years, she was still living with her parents, taking on part-time jobs and living off of roughly a thousand dollars a month from her music, making much less than during her previous job as office worker. Yuki praises Mori and Space Craft for always having her back, for being straightforward with her, for never making any false promises, for having enormous patience with her, for never forcing her to take on work that didn't interest her, for ensuring she was able to gain experience and steadily build a solid catalog for herself instead of smothering her with countless job offers just to milk her. She didn't get a good gig until 1998 when she was offered to do the soundtrack for a Playstation series called "Yarudora - Double Cast". Her earlier jobs hadn't brought in a lot of money but since the game was distributed by Sony she got to sign a very lucrative royalty contract (according to Yuki, Sony are apparently very adamant about music creators beings paid fairly). From then onwards, she was free of all her debts. Her next big breakthrough was her collaboration with Yuuka on Gundam SEED. Yuki says that if "Akatsuki no Kuruma" hadn't been such a huge hit, she would never have been offered the Kara no Kyoukai project which ultimately resulted in the birth of Kalafina.
Those of you who have been around for a while know that I've always been somewhat of an advocate for Space Craft and this interview just enforces my opinion of them. They have done some shitty stuff of course but overall they are pretty decent as far as Japanese talent agencies are concerned. Yuki then goes on to talk about her strong desire to remain at Space Craft for however long it would take to repay all the kindness that she received. That might explain why she was with them for such a long time (she signed up with them back in 1993)
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Regarding Kalafina, here are some of the highlights:
Sony was close to despair when they held their audition for Kalafina because none of the singers had the necessary skill-set to sing Yuki's music which is pretty much how Wakana and Keiko got their appointed positions (because they had already had experience working with her)
Maya was eventually deemed unfit for this type of work because she was still in high school at that time
Kalafina was Yuki's all-time favourite project because she got to do whatever she wanted. There were no taboos whatsoever. Even when it came to tie-ins and insert songs, she had a lot of creative freedom because most of the creators in charge trusted her judgement.
I wish they had at least mentioned Yuki's departure from Space Craft and the "disbandment" but I guess they didn't wanna go there...
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flowerwrites06 · 2 years
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lion and the fox I — jjk
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Plot: In a turbulent world of crime and intrigue, a fiery journalist makes an unlikely alliance with one of the country’s most notorious bosses.
Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Jungkook x Journalist!OC (Name: Belle)
Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+
Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series
Word Count: 7k+
Genre: Mafia AU | Vintage (1940′s vibes) AU
Tags & Warnings: crime, violence, sexual content, forced prostitution, mild scenes of harassment, some misogynistic behaviour, mentions of war, heavy mentions of drug use, infidelity.
Authors Note: I really liked jungkook and my OC belle in this fic and I didn’t have the heart to change them into original characters so here you go, it has been placed back in Tumblr! hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Please note that while some historical research has been done for this story, the MAJORITY of it has been altered in some way with creative liberties to match the themes and motifs of the plot. 
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“You can’t say things like that about him.” Hansuke’s gravelly tone rung into the room, cigar smoke flowing from his thin lips before he tapped it on the black glass ashtray.
Hoseok pressed his lips together, hugging the edited article to his chest as if it was a precious possession. The key to him making some kind of a name in this hell-hole of a city. It had been a bloody miracle just to be able to have his articles looked at by Tanaka Hansuke himself. Media Mogul of Gyeongseong. “Why not? You said using Jeon’s name might be able to help in gaining more reads.”
Hansuke sighed as he placed the cigar down; tie slightly loosened when the sun dipped into orange beneath the buildings to welcome the afternoon slump. “I mean using Jeon’s name in a positive light. We can’t piss off the most powerful man in Gyeongseong…especially when we don’t have physical proof unlike Kwon.” He gestured to the article.
Kwon Jiyong took a lot of death threats and corporate drunk pricks breathing on Belle until they both finally found enough physical evidence to lead the police into the prostitution ring. Of course they already knew where it was but the legal system needed a lot more convincing before they convicted a big contributor to their economy. Money surpassed justice.
“But we know he has a hand in it.” Hoseok kept his voice lower this time, leather shoes tapping against the darkened wood as he stepped closer to the table. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we got rid of bad men all at once?”
“It would be easier…but you and I also know life never works like that.” Hansuke leaned forward on his elbows, grey hair strands falling out of place from his morning slick back while the lines on his tanned face became more prominent.
Hoseok sighed. He moved one of her hands to fix his black trousers from cutting into his skin a little before hugging his article again. The words in them growing heavier in his embrace as the seconds passed by.
Hansuke examined the younger man for a moment before sighing in slight defeat. “Look…you’re a damn good journalist, Jung.” He gestured towards him. “None of these dumbasses want to admit it but you are and this bust on the Golden Serpent could make you one of the most popular journalists to date. So don’t ruin it while you have it…alright?”
Despite the slight empty feeling in his chest, he nodded. It wasn’t a surprise to him why Hansuke was terrified to writing anything negative about Jeon Jungkook. Only one or two employees knew of his past dealings with Yeou Pa; the criminal syndicate rooted within the city running seventy percent of the establishments from restaurants to brothels. While the older male had proclaimed to have no connection to the gang, there was still the air of reluctance.
A reluctance Hoseok could only detect as fear and knowledge of what Yeou Pa would do if one negative article spewed on their papers.
“Just that paragraph then, sir?” Hoseok maintained his professional tone, attempting a smile to stretch across his lips even though something kept tugging in his belly.
“Yes just that one.” Hansuke nodded. “Good work.”
Hoseok bowed politely before he turned on his heel out of the office. He could notice from the corner Belle pretending that she wasn’t worriedly looking through the glass window. His partner quickly pushed her glasses back on and tried to focus on a piece of paper.
Their desks faced to one another just six months after he received the job acceptance. It took him a while to get used to having her stories written under his name even though he knew she deserved all the credit. This Golden Serpent story being one of them. No one in the city would let her if they found out. Belle reassured him time and time again that this was the only way her voice was going to be heard. And they became close friends ever since.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know what happened?” Hoseok tilted his head, placing the papers on his desk.
“It’s none of my business.” Belle peered at the paper in such deep concentration before attempting a hum under her breath as she put it down. “But if you must vent to me.”
He chuckled through her nose, sitting down at his typewriter with a deep sigh. “He wants me to cut out the part mentioning Jeon.”
“But—” Belle cleared his throat, side-glancing around the hustling and bustling office until she leaned in, speaking in a softer voice. “But we saw Yeou Pa men there. The fox tattoos on their necks and heads, it was clear.”
“I know…” Hoseok opened up the files. Black lines catching her eyes, concealing the truth from the public to save one company’s reputation.
Her ruby tinted lips pressed together in disappointment as she lightly tapped her unpainted nails on the dark wood surface of the table. “What if we bust him ourselves?”
“We’re not detectives, B.”
“Detectives would be too scared to expose Jeon.”
“Yes but they also have weapons and skills that we don’t have. We don’t bust people.”
Belle took a small breath to speak before sighing back into thought.
Hoseok didn’t think he’d ever seen the woman back down from an argument before. It was always what to say next or what other solution to make. She never hid that side of her either which is why he didn’t know why no one found out most of his articles were written by her.
“There is a port...” She began to speak with care, pushing away her shoulder length hair strands over her white blouse sleeve. “A few witnesses managed to tell me that they saw groups of people being taken out of the ports. They all looked dirty and dreary like prisoners.”
“They probably were prisoners.” Hoseok shrugged.
Rebels were being shipped around like cargo for as long as he could remember. Some of them could’ve potentially being thrown in the prostitution rings without anyone tracing missing persons.
“Yes but this was done in Donghae Port and one of the witnesses saw a woman with a fox tattoo on her cheek.” A small smile twitched at her lips.
Belle knew more about conversing and finding connections than Hoseok ever did. He was a book and archive researcher more than anything while his assistant prowled for all the necessary prey needed for a good headline. At least he wanted the headline and she wanted the truth. A strange balance of a friendship in journalism.
“You said yourself you want all the bad men gone at once.” She gestured to the black lines across her own words. True words exposing a man taking advantage of his power to be depleted from the public eye. “There was no way else to do it.”
Hoseok sighed in defeat, resting back against the chair. “If we die, you’re paying for both our funerals.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
-
Donghae Port definitely looked like the dark place your mother would never let you walk around at night. Yet today Belle and Hoseok were walking right into it. The non-flash camera might not grab the clearest pictures ever in the poorly lit night but it could still more proof than ever on Jeons connection to the prostitution rings.
Anyone who had a knowledge of the underworld knew this port was owned and run by Yeou Pa. No one else was allowed to touch this territory for shipping unless they paid a hefty amount or wanted some kind of a death wish.
Crates stacked up as high as they could see with a few measly white lights illuminating random patches of the dampened ground. They stood shoulder to shoulder behind one of the stacks as a ship was being anchored near the port. Creaky, old mess of a boat to be more exact. One bad storm and the whole thing would sink helplessly.
The perfect thing to carry unimportant cargo. Belle tried to push down her stomach lurching at the thought. Cool breeze flowed through even her black clothing causing her to hug her coat closely to her body, steam wafting from her light peach tinted lips.
Hoseoks breathing grew heavier by the second as he peaked at the edge of the crate. “This feels like a very bad idea.”
“What, this mission or the innocent people being shipped in a crappy boat for sex?”
The older male looked back to meet her angry gaze. He knew the anger wasn’t directed at him but whoever thought this business was anything but absolutely disgusting. “A bit of both. We don’t have guns.”
“Niether do they.” Belle spoke plainly. “If they shot us, the police would know they took a gun for non-hunting purposes and it’d be tracked back to them.”
“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” The corner of his plump lips curled up slightly.
“It’s useful to be scary.” She smiled.
Hoseok craned his neck back to focus on the boat. “They’re getting out now.” He whispered, moving their positions so Belle could stand closer with her camera in hand.
Belle didn’t hesitate to take pictures, ignoring the clench in her chest when she saw children following along with the adults with their head lowered. She wondered how many of them were simply playing in grounds before their lives completely changed. All because a few people wanted too much power and money.
She focused her concentration on the soft clicking of the camera capturing the victims along with the men in suits escorting them to cars. She captured the license plates and the faces. As many faces as possible so they all could get punished for their crimes.
It was always this moment Belle felt the least scared. When the truth started playing right in front of her in plain sight, she kept her breathing calm and her fear subdued. Ensuring every single detail collected in her mind so she could never forget it. No matter how much it hurt.
There were three large vans that the victims were being placed in. Some of them pushed while others had to be carried on board because they were too small to climb on their own.
“Belle…” Hoseok whispered.
“Almost done.” Belle muttered, taking a few more shots of the license plates. As she was taking another shot, something blocked her view causing her to wince in annoyance. Pulling away from the camera her eyes widened seeing a man in a suit staring down at her.
“I think that’s enough pictures, sweetheart.” His deep, gravelly voice rippled through the tension thick air.
Belle looked over her shoulder, heart jumping to see a knife blade pressed against Hoseok’s tan neck. She gulped down before facing the other guard again. “Let him go.”
“You don’t make the orders around here, gorgeous.” Chapped lips stretched into a disgusting smirk as he grabbed onto her arm, closing their distance so Belle could be overwhelmed by the scent of tobacco and sweat. “I’m sure the boss’d like to see this piece.” Grey tinged eyes trailed down up and down her body while Hoseok grunted in anger.
Yanking out of the man’s grip, she fixed him with a fiery glare. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Both guards let out a croaky laughter as Hoseok tried to pull away from the knife but the blade only dug more into this skin. Without warning, the man lifted Belle over his shoulder and led her over to the cars with Hoseok hopelessly following along.
The pungent scent of tobacco choked her throat until she heard a car door open and her whole body thrown onto a harsh surface. Hoseok groaned next to her before the doors slammed shut.
Belle noticed one of the guards binding Hoseoks mouth as he let out a few muffled protests before his whole head was covered with a black bag.
Someone muttered from the driver’s seat. “Are they new tributes?”
“They’re journalists.” The grey eyed man dropped the camera on the floor of the van and slammed his leather clad foot on it causing it to crash. He smirked down at Belle as he grabbed a cloth and kissed it before binding her mouth with it, her protesting groan mixed with his laughter. “Going straight to the boss.”
She felt rough vibrations underneath her body indicating that the car began moving as her wrists were being tied until there was minimal blood flow. Worry began settling in slowly but she forced herself to stay calm. Then her whole vision went black.
-
Takahashi Estate shimmered in golden lights in the autumn night, painted lips stretching in convenient laughter while bodies glimmered in diamonds expensive enough to pay for a thousand meals. Jungkook stood in the banquet hall. A small, modern setting of red wood and cherry blossom paintings, glowing against the lanterns. Onyx eyes scanned around the room at the murmuring conversations, stopping on Don Takahashi himself.
Stumpy, old thing flushing like a tomato every time he reached the peak of his sake intake with his molasse black hair slicked back. A bloody miracle that his daughter never received an ounce of his looks.
Leaning back against the buffet table, Jungkook took a puff of his cigar, cheeks sucked in as his silver ear piercing shimmered in under the lantern glow. It was a bore of a party but done to keep a strengthened bond between allied gangs. As if getting married to Takahashi’s daughter wasn’t strong enough.
Technically their marital relationship was about as strong as a broken thread but combining their gangs was status gold.
Speaking of a joke posing as a marriage, Jungkooks eyes stopped on his beloved wife. Walking towards him after charming at least half of the patrons in the part. She was always good at that. Short, curly chestnut hair perfectly styled. Lime green eyes shining in calculated glee while her red lips wrapped around her golden cigarette holder. All of it tied together with a camel fur shawl over her shoulders and pearls glimmering around her neck.
“Pretending like an outlier as usual, sweetheart.” Gaia drawled, leaning against the edge of the table.
“I am an outlier technically.” The corner of his lips curled up.
“Well you don’t have to act like it.” She reached out and fixed his red tie tucked underneath a grey vest. “My father’s very pleased you decided to come tonight.”
Jungkook scoffed, looking over at Takahashi again who was chortling at something as obnoxiously as possible. “So long as old daddy’s pleased…”  He accepted a glass of whiskey when the waiter rushed in to offer them.
Gaia waved her white silk gloved hand as a refusal. She preferred to get drunk at home anyway. Easier to throw and thrash things that didn’t belong to her but her beloved husband. “Pleasing my old daddy is the only reason no one’s taking your precious gang away from you.” She muttered in a lower voice, voice a little croaky from the lack of drink. “Try not to insult him too much, dear.”
“I’ll try to keep it a normal amount.” Jungkook attempted not to seethe in an completely obvious manner.
“Watanabe Kaito…” Gaia gestured to a man in the corner, vacantly listening to another patron speak. “Dull little creature but he’s thinking of investing in a few clubs to raise his personal profits.” Their shoulders brushed against each other in an attempt to keep their discussion somewhat private. Though they were always being watched so long as they were in the manor territory. “Namjoon talked about expanding our club numbers.”
“Our club numbers?” Jungkook raised a brow before taking another puff.
“Isn’t it one of the many…many…” She rolled her eyes. “—marriage vows to share things with one another?”
Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle out a waft of smoke. “Do try to say it without ruining those pretty eyes, darling.”
“Don’t worry your little mind about my eyes.” Gaia scrunched her nose lightly before leaning in closer. “I could convince Kaito to look in our direction…so long as you give the order, boss.”
He tried not to be too bothered by the mocking tone she spoke that word. It reminded Jungkook just how fragile his power was. Like a vine grabbing onto the right names just to ensure that he and his syndicate could survive in this world.
“Make sure not to screw it up.” Jungkook mused.
“I never do.”
She was right. He’d never admit it though. Where’s the fun in that?
Another figure approached the pair, one of the young tributes to Yeou Pa, wearing a simple suit and messy hair. “Master Jeon.” He muttered, still heavily breathing.
“Thank god.” Jungkook whispered making Gaia chuckle before she made her way back to work. He turned to the young man. “What is it?”
“Call for you.” He bowed.
Nodding, the tribute led him through the courtyards of the Takahashi Manor to one of the living rooms. Brighter golden lights with bamboo furniture and old style painting of naked women surrounded by animals. Especially snakes. Hebi Pa and their goddamn snakes.
In the right wall area was the rotary phone, where in full display was a painting of a woman kissing the severed head of a man while draped in black pythons. Definitely Gaia’s choice. Jungkook picked up the phone and placed it on his ear. Somehow he was unable to tear his eyes away from the artwork. As if it was luring him to examine the details.
“Master Jeon?” A gruff male voice spoke.
“Yes.”
“There’s been a slight intrusion in Donghae Port when we were shipping tributes.”
“What kind of intrusion?”
“Journalists. A male and a female. The woman keeps demanding to see you, sir. Should I just get rid of them?”
Brows furrowed, Jungkook shifted from one foot to another. “Is there any particular reason why she’s asking for me?”
“Something about prostitutes, sir. I-I’m not sure what she’s talking about.”
“Does she have evidence?”
“One of the guards broke the camera.”
Jungkook took a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was passing through the living room. “Why would they think Donghae Port had prostitutes being shipped?” He asked the question more to himself rather than the guard. “Take them to the main estate and keep them on heavy guard. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” If this hell of a party ever ends.
God, she hated the smell of tobacco. It always lingered in her house for years growing up to the point where it became the biggest reason she moved to live in her own place next to Hoseok. They always liked staying close. No one really thought like they did so it was hard making any true friends in this city. As per usual, Hoseok and Belle were joined by rope in two chairs with their back facing one another.
The room they were placed in had ugly dark green walls, brown leather furniture and a billiard table on the right where the guards played casually. Belle only really liked the stone fireplace in front of her. On top of it was an ancient painting she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Written history had always been more of her forte rather than art.
Tobacco lingered thick in the air, smoke almost hazing the entire room as one of the guards groaned near the billiard table.
“I didn’t know journalists were that pretty.” That same, disgusting grey-eyed guard approached her again. Blazer off, standing with his white dress shirt.
Belle merely responded with a glare, taking a deep breath to pretend she wasn’t imagining his head roasting in the fire.
“You can at least tell me your name.” He hooked on the cloth covering her mouth before pushing it down. “I bet you have a pretty name.” He leaned forward, purposely holding onto her clothed thigh and squeezing causing her to jerk in discomfort.
“Boss said not to talk to them, Genzo.” One of the guards, a bit younger than the man named Genzo, spoke in a careful tone.
“I’m only conversing casually.” Genzo glanced over his shoulder before facing her again. “I asked for a name, sweetheart.”
The putrid scent of tobacco filled her lungs almost making her want to cough as she turned her face away. Hoping that the smell might leave her when she did. Except Genzo wasn’t having it at all when he grabbed her chin to meet his gaze again.
“The boss won’t care about anything I do to you so long as you’re alive, pretty…” Hoseok roughly struggled against the restraints with a growl under his breath. Genzo ignored it. “…so be a good girl.” His stinking fingers pressed into her soft cheeks until her lips puckered out.
“That’s no way to treat a guest in my house, Genzo.”
A young, raspy voice spoke from the other end of the room even causing to Genzo to freeze where he stood.
Belle took the opportunity to yank out of his rough grip, her cheeks aching terribly. Reddened eyes flickered over to see the figure walking into the room and rippling intimidated silence all around him.
This was him. Jeon Jungkook in the flesh.
Belle had only seen pictures for the most part during her research in Yeou Pa or whatever other businesses he invested in. Merely a young man not much older than she was. Definitely inherited fortune. Auburn hair slightly messy in its style, round eyes that had a striking sharpness to them she couldn’t understand, all tied together with small, pouty lips.
“Apologies, Master Jeon.” Genzo bowed down and she hoped his back would break from it. “I was just trying to get some information.”
“By threatening to assault her…on my property no less.”
Genzo stayed silent. A miracle really.
“All of you leave. I can speak to them alone.” Jungkook waved his hand before digging both of them into his grey trousers.
Every guard slowly flooded out of the room and closed the door. Silence plunged into the room for a moment other than the fire crackling slightly wafting more warmth than Belle was truly comfortable with right now.
With a deep sigh, Jungkook glanced over at Hoseok and walked to him, pulling out the cloth from his mouth. “What company are you two from?”
“Saja Ilbo.” Hoseok answered even though the release of information made Belle wince.
“I have no quarrels with Hansuke, why would he authorize this bust?” Jungkooks gaze moved over to the female journalist, her hazel eyes burning right into him like she was imagining all the ways he could be killed.
“Hansuke didn’t organize it.” Belle answered simply. While she had no deep affection for her boss, she still felt a small tug at possibly ruining his name for this case.
“So you’re rebelling against your boss.” Jungkook spoke directly to Belle while Hoseok hung his head. “What have I done that’s so horrible?” He pulled his trousers up and crouched down so he could meet her eyes.
Belle winced slightly. “Those people…children, you were going to—”
“Put them into prostitution? Is that you think I was doing?”
The anger began to douse allowing Jungkook to truly examine the hazel orbs, looking almost golden from the glow of the fireplace behind him.
“What were you doing then?” Her heart raced under her ribcages. Heat from the fire collecting around her aura, making it hard to breathe when the information kept sinking in deeper. Did she just get Hoseok into trouble for no reason? Was this all a stupid mistake from her pare that was going to get them killed?
“Those are tributes.” Jungkook explained in a calm tone, noticing the slight change in her gorgeous features. “They volunteer from different countries or from here to enter the gang either to get promoted or simply leave their harmful households. They’re not slaves or prisoners, they’re regular people who wanted a job. A different life that others wouldn’t give them.”
Granted this wasn’t the most honorable job of all time but it was better than most lives. Besides he knew what young men his age went through. Things Jungkook was able to get away with by being in this line of work.
“But we found prostitution rings with your men in it. They all had Yeou Pa tattoos, guarding the Golden Serpent.” Belle shook her head.
“Was that your article?”
She stammered a little. That conditioned part of her automatically thinking of saying that it was Hoseoks’ and not hers despite the nights she spent working on it. But there was no point in telling him lies when he had her restrained. “Yes.”
Jungkook nodded in understanding. “A ghost writer.”
“Why were your men there?” Belle pushed down the argument threatening to leave her tongue.
He stayed silent for a moment, the heat on his back growing a little irritating. Getting back up to his feet, Jungkook padded towards the coffee table that had been shifted to the side for chairs. A thick wooden piece of furniture that attempted to complement the brown leather. Jungkook picked up the small dagger, blade shimmering a little in the light.
Hoseok shifted against the restraints as the male inched closer.
“I know where my men are even if they don’t think I do.” Jungkook muttered. “In this world of ours, having eyes and ears everywhere is more important than anything.” He walked in between the two chairs, cutting through the ropes that were keeping them tied. “But it’s also easy to keep secrets in this world too. And make stories even though the proof might not be showing the truth.”
“You think I’m lying?” Belle furrowed her brows. The ropes finally loosened around her wrists, pulsing ache on her arms from being bound for too long.
“I think someone’s playing a trick on the both of us.” Jungkook placed the dagger back onto the coffee table while the two rubbed their arms and wrists. “Prostitution has been prohibited in Yeou Pa ever since it was founded. My grandfather was against it.”
“You expect us to believe that?” Hoseok shifted to face them properly.
Jungkook raised a brow, pulling at his gold cufflink. “His mother had been in street prostitution to provide for her two sons. Not a pretty story so I’d like for you to believe me if that’s alright with you.”
Belle and Hoseok shared a concerned glance with one another before she met Jungkooks’ gaze again. “There are still people missing though. Children and other innocent civilians found in unauthorized prostitution rings. If they’re not coming from you, then they’re coming from someone using your name.”
“What’re you suggesting, Miss…?”
“Belle.”
“Belle.” Jungkook nodded. “It might seem like I have all the power in the world but these investigations can cause concerning levels of suspicion.”
“Whoever is really running these rings wants to make it known that it was your gang.” Belle shrugged. “The evidence is only pulling to you in a way that’s almost obnoxious.”
“Which means someone might be purposely trying to do it.” Hoseok continued on as the information collected in his own mind.
The Jeon name had always been connected to underworld workings for years. Any evidence that could so much as smell like their involvement could be used against them. But Yeou Pa also was a syndicate that lived for over forty years. No regular journalist could simply ‘expose’ it on a luck strike. Something was being tampered.
“You understand if I agree to starting this investigation with your involvement…” Jungkook gestured to the both of them. “…you can’t investigate my syndicate anymore.”
As much Belle wanted to believe it. That Jungkook was the culprit after all and he was just lying through his teeth. Perhaps there was a selfish part of her that wished she could just use the evidence to expose Jungkook anyway. Except that wouldn’t stop the innocent civilians from being taken. Helping the innocent and bringing criminals to justice became so separate at this moment that Belle felt a headache coming along.
“There’ll be no more snooping on your gang anymore.” Hoseok muttered although reluctance coated his voice. “You have our word.”
Onyx eyes flickered over to Belle who still had a clear hesitation on her face. All of the worst case scenarios were definitely a hair worse than what the offer on the table right now. But it still meant giving up a sense of honor to find a truth. Two negatives make a positive. In this world anyway. “And you? Miss Belle?”
Gaze trailed up to meet his, taking a few minutes of silence to find some kind of ploy in his eyes. Any kind of tick or twitch that could indicate to her that something was wrong. Belle couldn’t find anything. She glanced over at Hoseok once again and instantly noticed the need to get this conversation done and over with. So long as they came out of this with their lives. At this point, that’s what mattered. “Alright. I have some files with more information that we could look at.”
A smile spread across Jungkooks lips, eyes glimmering when he stepped forward. “Welcome to Yeou Pa then, I suppose.”
This was going to be a nightmare.
Two years. It took Belle two years to collect these files. Trying her best to connect all the dots and hoping it would point to one direction. Some of them did point to Jungkook. Others were scrambled and confused like her mind was playing tricks on her. She kept most of the files in her shared apartment with Hoseok so that no one could think to find it but now she was personally carrying to the man she wanted to expose.
Funny how life turned out.
Morning faded in when Hoseok drove them back to the Jeon-Takahashi household. The sky a hazy blue from the light layers of smoke always swirling in the dry air. Dark fringe escaped from her burgundy hat, tickling her brow as she watched the guards walk down the entrance stairs of the house.
It had a traditional design like most upper class citizens inspired by traditional Japanese architecture with curved black roofs, wooden designs and an abundance of nature as far as Belle could see. Autumn was still nipping at their noses currently so a lot of the blossom trees didn’t look to be in bloom.
The guard practically surrounded their car as if they would play a trick. One of them with a clear fox tattoo on his neck opening the door for her while Hoseok climbed out on his own, walking towards her side.
He straightened out his camel toned blazer, waiting for Belle to climb out so he could carry the large wooden box from the passenger’s seat.
Despite the stockings she wore underneath her navy blue skirt, the autumnal air still bit at her flesh causing her to hug the grey trench coat tighter. Eyes trailed up to the height of building. Not quite like a skyscraper but still majestic in its own way.
“Master Jeon and Mistress Eliades are expecting you for tea.” The man with neck tattoo spoke, gesturing his hand towards the dark wooden door.
To the untrained eye, it may seem like the house was unguarded. Belle knew now that there must’ve been a guard in every corner ready to die for their Master if a sign of danger were to arise. Sharing a small glance with Hoseok, they were led up the entrance stairs with a line of guards padding behind them.
The entrance door opened with a loud creak where they stopped in the middle of the genkan. Taking their shoes off, the guard opened the red doors to a beautiful courtyard. Belle had to take a moment to admire the flowers lining the different pathways forming a perfect square in the middle.
“This way.”
Belle and Hoseok were taken to the east wing of the household, down the pathway into a private room on their right. The first thing Belle noticed was the gorgeous window showcasing all the blossom trees slowly losing their budding flowers. Then she saw the setting for tea. It was modern than anything else with chairs and a circular table matching the wooden structures of the house.
This definitely looked more like a place of business rather than casual tea. Aside from the beautiful view and adorable flower design tea set.
Her gaze then set on the two figures sitting at the table. Jungkook rubbing his bottom lip while their eyes met while sitting on the other side, a burst of wine red hair, perfectly curled just above her shoulders.
“Please sit.” Jungkook gestured to the two seat set out for them. “This is Rosyne Eliades, my consigliere. I thought it might be wise to have her here.”
Belle took a deep breath before making her way towards the table, sitting down on Jungkooks’ right while Hoseok sat across from her, placing the box on the floor next to him. “These are all the files we’ve collected on the prostitution rings.” She stated as Hoseok pulled all the sources out onto the table.
“You research deeply.”
The woman on her right spoke. Rosyne Eliades. Lime green eyes met hers as her reddish tinted lips curled up into a faint smile. There was a faint scar down her cheek where the natural light hit, showing the deepness of it when it was fresh. It didn’t take away from how ethereal she looked though.
“Thank you.” Belle attempted a smile although she was more focused in ensuring her fingers weren’t shaking too much. She was sitting right in the middle of the fox’s den, in their territory. Vulnerable to anything they could have planned for them. “We managed to find connections between Golden Serpent to other establishments suspected to be run by Yeou Pa.” Her grey gloved hands reached out for a black file, opening it to show her messy notes and stuck pictures.
It felt like opening her diary to strangers and letting them peek into all her weaknesses and ticks.
“Cho No Su?” Jungkooks brows furrowed, tapping on the picture of one of his brothels in the Red Light District. The familiar Japanese characters gleaming in red neon. “This is an authorized brothel not a ring.”
“I know.” Belle nodded. “But I spoke to a few girls there and they told me people had been going missing around that part.” She hesitated to speak her theory but it was already written in pen around the pictures. “I thought your men might’ve been taken them to the rings so you wouldn’t have to pay because the boss told them not to say anything.”
“Kim Hyuna runs Cho No Su.” Rosyne traced her fingers around brim of her tea-cup. “The profits don’t come back to us but her girls and boys are trained spies.”
“So they pay you with information.” Hoseok concluded.
“And they knew which information to keep from me.” Belle let out a slightly defeated sigh.
“Good thing you didn’t get your headline.” Jungkook muttered to her, a light smirk formed on his lips while Belle responded with a light glare. “But someone is causing these people to go missing and Hyuna isn’t saying anything because it might ruin her perfect rep.”
The Madame of Cho No Su brothel prided in keeping her establishment tightly protected and information kept sealed like an indestructible vault. Even for Yeou Pa, it was difficult figuring out what her eyes and ears found out in the deep webs of the city. Jungkook always remembered sending a hefty amount over just to gain some intel. At this rate, he may as well have a separate bank account opened for her.
“We could get a worker off duty and interrogate them on anything they needed to keep hidden while in the brothel.” Rosyne suggested.
“Do you think they’ll say anything different?” Belle still remembered the strange air in the brothel. Intimidating and alluring like she was sailing towards a haven for sirens ready to kill anyone who walked in. Every member looked like they knew something but were doing a good job at keeping it hidden. Kim Hyuna must’ve been watching their every move and they knew exactly how to work around it.
“Generally these spies will give information to people who are affiliates.” Jungkook explained, taking a small sip of his tea. “We could send someone in to get more juice.”
“Hoseok and I could go.” Belles words lingered in the air for a few moments.
Rosynes expression grew a little hesitant compared to her usual stance as she gave a look to Jungkook.
“You could go.” Jungkook spoke to Belle. “Hoseok will stay.”
“You have guards stationed all around the city, do you really think I’m stupid enough to go back on our word?” Belle seethed. Anxiety burning into anger as she fixed her gaze on the fox king, not daring to blink just in case he thought he was going to get away with playing them like his puppets.
Eyes sharpened as Jungkook leaned forward on his elbows, the faint scent of tobacco still lingering on his clothes and touching her nostrils. “You were stupid enough to think I was responsible for the prostitution rings.”
“I’m not resting that case either.” Her fingers curled up into tight fists, harsher than the wooden surface of the table. “People like you always go to any heights for a little extra cash.”
“Belle, it’s fine.” Hoseok muttered softly.
Jungkook let out a bitter scoff. “And you’re what…a hero of some sort? Taking down all the bad men with all your stories?” He tilted his head, voice calm but laced with venom. “You were sneaking into my territory for your own glory. What does that make you?”
“We’re not going to hurt your friend.” Rosynes calm voice attempted to break through Belle and Jungkooks fiery aura threatening to melt each other where they sat. “It’s just a necessary precaution. You must understand the risks we’re taking here.”
Belle and Jungkook shared a small heated glare towards each other before Belle rested back on her chair, forcing herself to look at Rosyne so she wouldn’t scratch the other males eyes out. “I’ll go to Cho No Su and try to find a member off duty.”
Rosyne hummed in agreement, glancing at Jungkook who still had a clear scowl over his face. “Go to the southern exit. That’s where the members usually go to smoke or just take a breather.”
She nodded in agreement.
“We’ll give you a radio transmitter just in case something goes wrong…” Jungkook deadpanned not giving Belle a sideways glance. “Unless you decide your friend doesn’t need limbs.”
“Maybe you should try this hard on controlling your gang than making threats.” Belle gave him a tight-lipped smile as Jungkook licked the inside of his cheek.
Rosyne tried her best not to look too amused.
The Cho No Su brothel was a sequestered establishment somewhere in the heart of the city with patrons of the high class pattering in like sailors to a sirens cave. Belle remembered being mistaken for one of the members at least five times before being able to get some questioning done for her files. Thankfully today she wasn’t heading for the entrance.
As the sky had plunged into a pitch black night with barely any stars, Belle made her way to the corner of the establishment. Japanese characters “蝶の巣” showcased in red neon beaming against the night light. Folding her arms over her chest, she padded down the dark alley from the western end of the building.
High above her were windows glowing in gold, moaning and giggling echoing against the walls outside. Steam flowed from her red tinted lips as she glanced over her shoulder to check no one was there. This was possibly the worst place to be alone. Somehow the thick radio transmitter in her jacket pocket helped her feel safe.
Even though the people listening on the other side probably didn’t give a shit about her safety.  
Taking a right down the corner, a scream made her heart jump. Belle looked over at the expanse of the alley and saw only two figures wrestling. One of them with a shining traditional red attire of some sort while other wearing a full black, camouflaging into the night.
“Get off me!” The girl roughly tried to push her attacker away.
Belle sprinted over to the scene and pulled the assailant off the others body, kicking the back of his knee. A male groan echoed in her ears as he dropped on his knees to the ground. She noticed the girls hair pins in a mess, glaring at the man.
She rushed over to the girls side only to notice a steel blade brandished against the moonlight. Before she could realize what was happening, a sharp pain pierced through her thigh causing her to stumble to the ground with a loud grunt.
She expected more hits but she felt the other girl move until the assailant yelled again. Teary hazel eyes tried to look at the male as he landed on the ground. Mouth frothing in white gurgles and his collarbone sliced and dripping with blood, staining the stone floor.
Vision began to shake as she rested back against something soft. The pungent scent mixed of blood and some kind of perfume filling her lungs making it even hard to breathe normally.
“Hey, thank you…” A female voice spoke but it was growing muffled.
Belle groaned, trying to push back to her feet on the ground but failing when the blade stuck in her thigh pricked at her again. One hand over the blade, her shaky fingers tried to reach for the radio transmitter in her pocket. Whatever strength she tried to muster kept fading into the pain rushing like lava to her whole body.
“H-Hoseok…” The radio kept crackling. It was so loud but unclear at the same time. “H-Hoseok…s-someone, please…” Her voice trembled.
“Belle?” Another voice answered. “Belle, it’s Jungkook.”
“I-I found—I—” Everything was so blurry and shaky. Blood everywhere. Her one leg unable to move without the blade trying to push at something important.
“You found what? What’s wrong?” Maybe it was the stab in the thigh but Belle could’ve sworn Jungkook sounded…almost worried. Almost. It could’ve been the stab.
Something grabbed the transmitter from her hand. “We’re at the Cho No Su back entrance.” The girl spoke in a more collected tone although still shaking at every word. “Your friend’s hurt, I could take—”
“I’m coming.” Jungkooks voice didn’t hesitate.
Belle tried catching more of the conversation, shifting or talking. Doing something. But her mind grew overwhelmed with the pain. Tears trickling down her cheeks, limbs growing numb and loose. Slowly shutting down until she could only see shapes and hear undistinguished noises. She heard the girls voice again before everything went quiet and dark.
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voidpremonition · 9 months
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so uh, Spiderverse huh, it kinda started a big hyperfixation on spidey-related stuff which led me to discovering some new things like
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TOXIN
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ANTI-VENOM
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and MANIA ( i love you MANIA)
and then after a while i thought about sp//der and the posibility of spiderverse spinoffs, and I thought ) "man it kinda sucks that some others like earth 14512 are kinda just.. there, because i kinda like tho whole multiverse thing of we do this, but with a TWIST (noir show, the future, looney tunes you name it) so I thought, how would it be if VEN#M was a reocurring villain for SP//DER, how would it work, what changes would be made, could this affect peni's development.
SO HERES ARE MY WEIRD BRAINROT SP//DER IDEAS
so you know the thing, peni gets bitten gets a cool mech and stuff, and after a while of being SP//der essentially with her ITSV attitude at some point she gets a interesting experimental AI assisted suit called VEN#M, yes this time he's mostly an AI you'll see later why, VEN#M is essentially a suit oriented to be an "upgrade" of sorts to the original SP//DER with a combat especialized AI designated to take down targets effectively and aiding the pilot, now adding the whole psychic link thing, and peni, after a while of using the suit, evreything seems fine at first the AI helps calculate and time attacks better,it never sem like they can hit her,every swipe hit and strike is always on point she's not so fine with not having her spider bestie cooperating as much as she'd like but she's doing a good job(though sometime she swears she hears someone from time to time even when all alone) all swell and good, well... until VEN#M with the whole psychic link stuff starts learning more about peni and her villains and, how they almost always seem to come back, and so the singularity starts, you know the venom stuff a few changes in behaviour, though this time is mostly centering herself more and more on crimefighting and leaving behind her other matters and stuff, and VEN#M at that point gets even more linked and more or less peni has to deal with the constant sound in her head that tells her to just pull the trigger on mysterio for once,( essentially VEN#M is meant to be an effective battle AI, not a hero) and the more she struggles the more the voice becomes human until she forcefully removes herself out of the suit, after a inner battle trying not to kill, so yeah, she forcedully shuts VEN#M down and bring it back saying it was defective and prefers doing things more her style, they get take the suit to analyze what went wrong and episode ends, "but why can I still hear.. something...?".
And so of course VEN#M eventually gains sentience due to his link with Parker, gets a grudge against her finds a pilot named addy brock, and after a while he decides, "I like this one, she's mine now" and so VEN#M gets on her head starts telling her stuff, slowly ruins her friendship with parker, annnnd addy starts also getting an insane amount of knowledge and a lot of conflicting emotions due to having a vengeful AI on her head, a few confrontations later and, boom, They are VEN#M (not exactly in the most cooperative way, though)
OTHER STUFF CUZ WHY NOT
#So I also thought, what if Addy VEN#M also had a human techno suit, like a weird nano-tech stuff like creating objects and weapons to fight SP//DER, kinda like jake the dog but blue beetle but iron spider but venom. Oh and peni also makes one of those eventually (maybe).
#Also VEN#M of course has backups of himself around and his original mech suit is taken away after the first fight with SP//DER
#Addy is not happy about any of this, at all.
oh and Carnage and others are copies of VEN#M's original code
So yeah you can use any of this ideas if you like them or change anyhing you want, go crazy, none of this will ever be canon so why bother? GO NUTS, GET CREATIVE, LET'S MAKE SPIDERVERSE THE NEW UNDERTALE WITH SO MANY AUS
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applesandbannas747 · 5 months
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For the fic writer ask, 10, 34 and 38?
ahh!! thank you for playing more silly ask games with meee <33
10. How do you decide what to write?
whatever makes my brain go brrrr. lmfao I have a million ideas that collect in my brain (and then get jotted down in notes lest I forget them all), and then from them I'll kinda pick what to write based on a couple of things: interest level at the moment of choosing, ship, length, and genre.
Biggest thing that indicates something will be written immediately is when I start composing scenes in my head while falling asleep or zoning out--that usually means it's Time to work on that project, but that's not always how things get picked.
I do try (and I used to be better at it) to stagger my fics in a way that keeps my readers happy/interested. So I try to even out the Nichoji v Eugesse ratio I write, meaning if I just finished a long Eugesse fic, I'd look to choose from a Nichoji idea. And generally when I'm working on longer projects, little ones will pop up to keep the crops diversified in my brain and all that--and those ones always kinda happen on whims/accident and then get stored away for months/years until I have a posting gap they can fill. And genre lmfaooo it was my intention to give people realistic fiction between my fantasy bullshit but that particular criterion has been given up on and I've just accepted it at this point
34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?
ooo I've said it before but my love for my family and relationship with my siblings really influences the way I write the Labaos--none of the Labao children are based on me or any of my siblings and none of the relationships were copy pasted onto them, but the strong basis of love and bullshittery everything is built on is from my life. and of course the mental illness do be sneaking into all the Fence boys lmfao oops
38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?
honestly fucking baffled in the best way when my things get popular lmfao i still can't believe people like some of my stories so much! There's probably four that I think completely surprised me
Fairy Bound gained a lot of fans I was not expecting, especially given the size of the fandom (it's not super big and I thought it had died out a lot more than it has because it's older) and the controversy of the ship (human/fairy with large age gap, you know the drill). I think one of the reasons it got so popular is because of it being a T-rated and longer fic for the ship when most of the longer fics for them were M or E and so it filled a niche? Also it was canon compliant (at least until the sequel series came out...but i don't really see those as canon anyway so my thing still fits into the OG canon yknow?)
More was my very first Fence fic that I wrote because I could not find ANY Nichoji kissing fics and wanted those fuckers to kiss. Which, I think, is why other people liked it, but I was so surprised (in a good way) with how many people commented on it and wanted to read more. It remains my most-kudo'd fence fic, which has honestly got to be from its time accumulating those kudos XD but it makes me smile whenever I get a new kudos on it because it's nice to know that people still like it since it was what jumpstarted my time in the fence fandom
Can't Get Over You is one that baffled me for ages because I had a great time writing it, but I don't think it's my strongest fic by far...and then I realized that maybe other people are as terrible as I am and enjoy the trope of Nick fucking up really bad being mean to Seiji and making him cry, then having to spend ages getting him to believe he loves him. Sometimes makes me wonder if I should post more with that trope or if it would be too upsetti spegetti XD
And then Promised Things I seriously didn't expect to get much traction, and yet, it surpassed Truths, my until-then legacy fic...Turns out business romance is a whole genre that people do be enjoying but I just thought I was being boring because how does 'businessman au' sound appealing to anyone at all except the dumb asshole who wrote it??? also i made so many lingerie jokes in that one and am still delighted that y'all just let me get away with it
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alienaiver · 2 years
Text
Chapter III: On reunions and confessions
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Chapter summary: It’s been 10 years. Shinsou’s become a Pro Hero in Musutafu, alone. When you’re forcefully reunited in a way none of you planned or wished for, will the unmarked paths in front of you lead to ends you’d only dreamed of?
warnings for this chapter: a villain attack is briefly described (but quickly resolved) at the beginning. there are descriptions of loneliness, isolating coping mechanisms, of being mistreated and misjudged by health professionals, and lots of grief processing. Reader also describes themselves like they don’t want to appear weak; though remember that if you have chronic pains, you are never weak. i’m more trying to show the emotional process and emotions related to it, unhealthy as they may be! always remember to talk about your struggles with other people and remember that you’re not alone! <3 ALSO while the reader is still very gender neutral, there is mentions of shinsou having dated a male in the past! wordcount: 19.3k
chapter content: fluff, sfw, gender neutral reader, medium angst, serious descriptions of grief and anger, hurt/comfort, adult and pro hero!shinsou, VERY canon divergent!, best friends to lovers (huehuheuhuee), friendship bickering and shenanigans, bakugou and kiri has a pro-hero agency and so does todoroki and midoriya!, way too many coffee references, lots of italics, happy ending, reader's disabilities include fibromyalgia and arthritis (which arthritis is kept vague), kamisero, shinkami and erasermic is also part of the story. notes: this is the FINAL chapter in this installment. thANK YOU SO MUCH for reading it and supporting me! it means the world to me that you’ve all given such love to this! this final chapter here is more... personal, and the disabled reader is finally coming into play! the word count is...... can u tell this was supposed to be the only chapter originally LKJDKFNSJ!!! i hope that any disabled person stumbling upon this feels somewhat seen and even if the symptoms or emotions described here do not fit you to a T, itll still give a sense of visibility. it is all described based on personal experience and the descriptors have been kept as vague as possible<3 everyone go thank @opulencexx​ and give her a kiss for being such a great support in the creation of this!
quick note for anime-only readers: in this chapter, there’s a part about a certain character going through something with his body: IT IS NOT CANON, it is simply me coming up with a 10-year timeskip alternate universe as i also avoid spoiling people who’s only caught up to the anime<3 mwuah and happy reading!
previous chapter ┋ series masterlist
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Shinsou’s body reacts to the cry for help before he fully registers it, running towards the alley where he’d heard the sound come from. His partner’s still inside the convenience store, “Brainwave, I lost track of time and forgot to eat before the shift, please, just a quick rice ball?” he’d pleaded and since he was a new hero on the roster, Shinsou had felt bad and let him do it – of course villains did not care for timing or dinner breaks.
He arrives at the end of the alley to see a big guy, anthropomorphic for sure, holding a civilian by the throat as he chants something about getting his revenge on the people of Musutafu. Another arm is wrapped around the civilian’s leg. Shinsou quickly assess the situation before adjusting his Persona Chords to make a lighter, more childish voice – making the villain more susceptible to letting his guard down and reply to Shinsou – he just seemed the type to be overly boisterous if he assumed he had a physical advantage over a child.
“Hey mister! What’s two plus two?”
The villain looks around, unable to spot Shinsou immediately since he’s blending in with the darkness by the trashcans, hoping to gain control before being spotted so he can get a hold of the civilian faster. “Who cares about math? Go away if you don’t want to ge-“ and that’s all it takes before Shinsou makes him put the civilian down nice and slow and get down with his hands behind his head. In his earpiece he hears his partner confusingly ask for his location while munching on food. Shinsou runs to the civilian to assess their injuries as he asks his partner to dial for an ambulance. As he kneels and gets ready to put the civilian in the correct position for easier breathing, he gently turns the head only to gasp out your name in shock. What the hell are you doing here? His assessment suddenly feels more acute than original as he scans your body. Your leg looks broken – did you fight back? Your eyes seem to be covered in something – ink? Shinsou looks back at the villain and registers his very squid-like appearance. “Status?” his partner yells as he reaches the two of you, putting cuffs on the villain while Shinsou goes through the first-aid ABC’s. “Unresponsive,” he all but snarls in frustration. As the ambulance arrives, he insists on going with it, clearly panicked and uneasy, “call Deku and ask for a back-up, I gotta go with this one,” he simply says, not in the mood to explain further but desperate to get you medical attention as quickly as possible.  
        Shinsou’s sitting in the chair next to your bed, mindlessly flipping through a random magazine that was placed on the coffee table in your room. You’re still out cold and sitting still feels almost impossible with all the questions that’s running through him. Why are you here? When did you come home? He hadn’t heard from you in ten years, how come you’re back without contacting him? Was it vacation? Permanent? Though the most glaring question that rummaged through him was: why do you seem to be a regular civilian? Your dream of becoming a Pro Hero was as big as everyone else’s at U.A and he experienced first-hand your determination by being so close to you back then, it just didn’t add up that you couldn’t… defend yourself, given the martial arts he knew that you knew – you’d fought off bigger people even back then. Granted, it’d been ten years since you two went to school together but fighting was like riding a bike… right? He sighs and lets a hand through his hair, stretching his legs out in front of him. He’s lucky Midoriya agreed to let someone else finish his shift for the evening though he’s not at all unsure about the consequences it will have for him when he shows up tomorrow but he simply told Midoriya he couldn’t leave your side. He could hear that Midoriya was worried too and offered to come down to distract him and be there for the both of you but Shinsou assured him it was okay, that he’d appreciate if Midoriya could find out more about the quirk the villain they had apprehended had. Your eyes are still covered by the ink he’d shot at you before Shinsou appeared and it’d turned out that it couldn’t be washed off.
After some phone calls between the agency and the police district that had taken him in, it turns out the ink could make the place where it hit you cease function, eyes, mouth, hands, the works – he’s a villain already in the police’s limelight due to other attacks involving ink and hurt civilians. They’d never figured out his motive before but been able to confirm the ink would disappear within a few hours.
As Shinsou is about to get up and grab a glass of water from the waiting room, you start to move, the machine you’re plugged into beeping frantically. You start yelling and screaming and Shinsou knows it’s a reaction to the attack earlier but before he can come over to try and calm you down, doctors and nurses flood the room, trying to restrain you. Words like I can’t see, someone help and don’t touch me rips their way out of your lungs and the doctors seem to have little success in calming you down so Shinsou ends up pushing his way through them all saying the first words he thinks will make you answer,
“Do you trust me?”
It seems that through your panic you register his voice because your head moves in the direction of him but through your hyperventilating you seem to have trouble communicating, obviously going through it, unable to calm down. You garble out a “mhm” that luckily is enough for him to use his quirk.
“Breathe calmly.”
And the good thing about his quirk is that while your body shouldn’t be able to, it instantly stops fuzzing and defying the restraints in an effort to follow his order. You breathe deeply into the bottom of your lungs before exhaling again. Shinsou looks over at the monitor you’re wired up to and sees your heart rate falling steadily. You keep inhaling slowly and exhaling again and he lets you until he’s sure you’ll be calm when he stops using his quirk. The people around you step aside and the doctor order the nurses to leave the room. When he ends the usage of his quirk, he notices the way your breathing becomes slightly abrupt again, though you’re able to stay calm.
He says your name in the warmest way he knows how – mirroring the tone of voice you used to use on him back then – and gently takes your hand in his. You move your head towards him, “Shinsou?”
Shinsou originally nods, at a loss for words upon hearing you say his name after so many years but remembering that you’re effectively blind right now. ”Yeah, I’m here.” The smile you send his way breaks something in him, reminding him of all the smiles he was used to getting before you disappeared from his life and he was left to pick up the pieces by himself.
“You really are my hero, huh?” you croak out and Shinsou’s glad you can’t see the burning blush that takes over all of his features, convinced it’s going all the way down his chest as well. If the doctor notices, he doesn’t say anything.          
A detective shows up to take your statement and explains the effects of the quirk you’ve been hit with. He explains what’s going to happen with the villain and wishes you a fast recovery before excusing himself again. The doctors are a bit apprehensive on entering your room, given that Pro Hero Brainwave is guarding it like his life depends on it. When they give you a meal, you offer Shinsou the pudding and asks him to go home and get some sleep. “The armchair here is plenty comfortable,” he reassures you, reluctant to leave your side. He’s unsure of whether it’s purely worry or perhaps got to do with the burning questions at the back of his mind. He’s decided not to ask you tonight though, unwilling to put you through more after such an endeavor. The clock passes 2AM when the ink starts to disappear from your skin like it’s never even been there and Shinsou hurries to turn off the light of your room, though the light from the hallway still shines in. You blink rapidly before looking around the room, taking stock of your situation.
“You’ve gotten tall,” is all you let out as you give him the elevator look and Shinsou feels weirdly on display and gets self-conscious. He turns the light back on without warning with a deadpan expression, “argh!” you dramatically pretend to melt like a vampire in the sun.
Shinsou walks back to the armchair next to the bed and plops down, looking at you with a worried expression. “You cut your hair,” you add and reach out for his head – he doesn’t humor you though and you let your arms fall back down, “you’re probably wondering… about a few things,” you let out as you keep your eyes on the hands in your lap. Shinsou doesn’t know whether or not to show his anger or stay collected because he really doesn’t want to overwhelm you – but he also wants you to know how hurt he’s been.
You sigh as you look up at him and he’s not blind to the hurt that shines through you – takes one hurt person to know one, he guesses. You try to open your mouth multiple times but nothing leaves you, “I’m not sure where to start except… I’m so fucking sorry.”
He wants to ask for what, wants to challenge you and make you taste the bitter bile he’s been storing in his throat ever since you left. He lets out a sigh before getting comfortable in the armchair, “you should sleep. We can talk in the morning.” He turns around and wraps the blanket the nurse offered him earlier around himself. It’s not comfortable sleeping in his hero costume, the holsters on his thighs digging into him but the thought of leaving you – the fear that you won’t be here when he comes back tomorrow morning is too prevalent for him to do anything but suck it up and force his eyes shut.
None of you gets any sleep but you both pretend that you do, when morning arrives and you’re handed some pills. When Shinsou asks if you’ve slept well, you smile and say “yeah, what about you?” to which he nods and fakes a yawn as he stretches himself. The nurse has just been in to inform you that the doctor will give his discharge briefing for you in a few hours.          
“Well, as you’ve probably figured out, your leg’s broken and it will unfortunately need to heal on its own,” the doctor starts, an apologetic look on his face. “Due to your other conditions, the healing will probably also take longer than the average six to eight weeks,” he continues, unfazed by the confused look Shinsou is sending his way, mere seconds away from demanding an explanation right there on the spot. You suspect he’s holding back as to not make you uncomfortable – the same way he did every time the nurses came in with medicine that he didn’t know what was for but you took without question since you seemed aware of what it all was. “Of course there’s variables for everyone, so you just might. Going through your medical history I read that your complications are located in your back, arms and legs in varying degrees, yes? If so, I’d recommend a wheelchair for the entire healing period – crutches will most likely be too taxing.”
The doctor drones on about the protocol for provided wheelchairs, how to care for the cast and after going through your chart and prescribed medicine one last time smiles up at you, “do you live in a suitable place to recover? With room for the wheelchair? You might need someone to help care for you during the first 24 hours as you get used to it.”
You can’t help but let out a big, dramatized sigh, “I mean, I live in a hotel right now? I’m supposed to start work in a few days, and I haven’t actually been… apartment-hunting as of yet. I just arrived five days ago,” you try to laugh it off as you scratch the back of your neck. “I guess I can ask my aunt if I can stay at her place a while, though she lives on the fourth floor…” you brainstorm before raising your arms in front of you, “but you don’t need to worry, Doc! I’m very capable of taking care of myself!” you raise your arm to flex the muscles and are about to let out something as equally silly when Shinsou interrupts,
“They can stay at my place. It’s wheelchair friendly.”
You don’t think you’ve ever whipped your head so fast at someone. The doctor smiles happily and goes on to explain to Shinsou what you’re going to need before you sputter out a few confused and nonsensical sounds, “hold up!” You send Shinsou a very serious glare – he simply raises his eyebrow at you, completely unfazed by what he just did.
“I am perfectly fine on my own, I’m sure Mr. Brainwave’s here got his own stuff, you can’t be my nurse, you’re busy!” you shift your focus to him halfway and tell him that as if reminding him of his own obligations and Shinsou has to bite his tongue – as if you know what my daily life looks like, he thinks bitterly. He remains calm and assures both you and the doctor that you’ll be fine at his place and he’s happy to help out his best friend. There’s a bite at the end of that sentence as he sends you a look that he wishes he could’ve contained because really, all he wants to do is help you out and the intention is completely sincere.
The doctor returns focus to you as if he’s settled comfortably on the living solution, “what kind of job are you starting? I do recommend a proper recuperation period given your medical difficulties.” Shinsou once again holds back, licking the back of his teeth as a distraction. He wants to ask the doctor what the hell he’s on about, he wants answers about you but this isn’t about what he wants – he’s annoyingly aware of that. You argue back and forth with the doctor about how long you’re supposed to take off and reassures him that your job can very much be done from a wheelchair. After what sounded suspiciously like a bargain being made, you come to an agreement of two weeks complete rest before you start your job and the pride you emit has Shinsou snorting before turning into a cough. You always did like to win arguments and bargains – this was probably the silliest one he’d ever seen you strike though.
It seems the doctor has no more to tell you or brief you on but stays next to your bed, shuffling on his feet. You raise an eyebrow, “doc? Is there… any more you need?” you try and he coughs into his arm, “I’m sorry! It’s just…” and he directs his gaze to Shinsou and bows, “I’m sorry Mr. Brainwave but my nephew is a very big fan of you and I feel like he’d be elevated if I could perhaps… get your autograph… for him? If it’s not too much of a bother, of course, sir!” The Doctor raises his arms in front of him and almost draws his request back in sheer embarrassment, “I try to keep it professional but it’s rare that we get heroes here so I am a little starstruck at seeing you here, Brainwave sir!”
You let a laugh escape you as Shinsou smiles – to others it’s calm and collected but you don’t miss the absolute sparkles surrounding him right now from the sheer pride and joy of both being recognized and asked for an autograph.
The doctor scrambles to find a piece of paper that isn’t part of your medical chart so you interrupt him and ask Shinsou to hand you your bag on the table. Inside you find an old receipt and Shinsou raises an almost disappointed brow at you, “what! I’m not in school anymore, I don’t have my notebooks with me!” you defend as he takes the offered pen from the doctor and bends down by the little coffee table.
“What’s your nephew’s name?”
The doctor jumps in his spot in surprise at being asked, “Ah! Shouta, sir!” and an unreadable but soft smile graces Shinsou’s features again before writing a greeting together with the autograph. As he hands it to the doctor he laughs, “if he’d like his autograph on something cooler than a receipt for…” Shinsou takes a look at the other side of the paper, “…a six-pack of beer and 2 liters of ice cream, please don’t hesitate to stop by the agency with him.”
As the doctor excuses himself with a goofy smile and the autograph held gently between two fingers, he tells you that you’re free to leave after you’ve filled out some forms with the nurse. Shinsou starts tidying the room he’s inhabited with you for the last 12 hours or so. A nurse comes in 10 minutes later with a wheelchair, teaching Shinsou how to fold and otherwise use it.
When you’ve changed your clothes with help from the nurse, you go out to the reception to fill out the forms. Shinsou notices your contact is ‘Midoriya Inko’ and remembers that you always refer to her as your aunt – that’s most likely who you meant when you said you could stay at her place.
           You’re in the cab, caught in uncomfortable silence. What Shinsou wants most of all right now is a shower. He feels grimy and sticky and his hero costume’s clinging to him in the most uncomfortable ways but you have to stop by your hotel room on the way and get your things.
Instead of unloading the wheelchair and struggle with it, Shinsou insists on getting your keycard and goes to grab your things by himself. As you sit alone in the cab, regretting the decision, the driver looks back at you and sends you a kind smile, “it’s nice to have a partner,” he says and you can’t help the groan that leaves you before you collect yourself.
“He’s not my… I mean, he’ll probably be mad if I don’t correct you, at least.”
You send him an apologetic smile and he nods his head, changing the radio station. You wonder what he’s doing, feeling impatient after 10 minutes. Another five passes before Shinsou comes back with your suitcases and backpack and you are horribly reminded of the state you’d left your room in last night, your suitcases open and the content strewn all over the place – to be fair, you were just supposed to find some food last night, not get attacked and hospitalized. The driver gets out and helps Shinsou put it in the trunk, balancing it with the wheelchair.
When he comes in next to you again you apologize profusely and to your surprise, Shinsou simply laughs.
“It reminded me of your old dorm. Let’s just hope I got everything.”
You’re relieved he’s somehow calmed down enough to joke, so you laugh nervously along before giving out a new line of apologies. The rest of the trip is more comfortable and every time you sneak a glance at Shinsou and he notices and sends you a smile back. That’s… a good sign, right?
              As you arrive at his apartment, he gives you a quick tour. He places all of your bags in the bedroom and let you say hi to his cat, Candle. You can’t help but choke out a laugh at the name and when you ask where he got it from, he says she has the same color as the candle that was on his table at the time. He shows you the bathroom, the kitchen and the living room and how to sneakily reach things from the cabinets – as if you couldn’t stand on your left leg for a few seconds to grab something. Your phone rings with a notification for your medication, and Shinsou helps you get it from one of your suitcases, puts it all on the dresser so you can easily reach it – you’ve got a whole bag of it and while you tell him it looks worse than it actually is, he can’t help but bite his lip in worry and concern – mostly because he doesn’t know what it’s all for.
Shinsou then takes an hour-long shower before emerging fully dressed and practically running out of the apartment without looking at you. “There’s food in the fridge and cabinets. I have to go to a meeting at the agency, I’ll be back later,” he hastily tells you before grabbing his keys and locking the door after him. A sigh leaves you as soon as he’s gone, your body relaxing only slightly upon finally being alone. Candle jumps up on your lap and you enjoy the feeling of her purring on you as you try to gather your thoughts – the last week had been intense, to say the least.
A week ago you were on the other side of Earth, packing up the last of your things. Your parents had agreed to ship the rest of your things, like your furniture and bigger items, when you’d settled back in Japan and found a suitable place to live. Your parents hadn’t really approved of you moving before you had a place to call your own and while there wasn’t a lack of offers to help you get a place settled but you’d rather handle all this on your own. You wanted to get back and have a new start here, facing all the things you’d ended up running away from – even if it hadn’t been the intention back when you were forced to move away, you couldn’t deny that that’s what you had ended up doing, hurting so many people around you in the process.
You’d arrived back in Musutafu five days ago, Aunt Inko picking you up at the airport – you’d tried to convince her not to but she’d insisted that a familiar face should greet you at the airport like she’d always done. She’d been very distressed about you sleeping in a hotel and not at her place like you usually did but you’d insisted on this, since this was your start on your life here, “I’d just get too comfortable here, Auntie! I’d never get around to finding my own place,” you’d sheepishly told her and that seemed to deter her for now, at least. You didn’t know how to break the news that your body wouldn’t be able to handle going up and down from the fourth floor every day if you had to be there for longer than a week or two…
You push the wheelchair around Shinsou’s living room, taking stock of his interior design – or rather, lack of. On the dresser left of the dining table a framed picture of him and Aizawa stands, both of their smiles wide in front of U.A. You can’t hold back your own smile upon seeing it, guessing it must’ve been from his graduation – even though it’d only been a year after you left, you can’t help but marvel at the changes he’d went through in that single year alone. His shoulders had become even broader, jaw more accentuated and you can see he already got the new haircut – an undercut – back then. You shiver as you remember the sensation you’d felt last night, when vision had returned to you and you saw him – finally saw him again. It’d felt like seeing him for the first time all over again but with a wave of nostalgia rushing over you, a wave of absolute love. You weren’t surprised by how he looks – honestly? You’d kept tabs on him from afar, always keeping an eye on the Japanese news online, scanning the charts every year to see how he was doing – how the whole class was doing. You turn around and see a poster of cinema-quality is hanging above his couch of Present Mic, probably one you imagine might have been hanging in a bar as an advertisement for him coming to DJ once. It’s framed too, and the throw pillows on his couch have cats on them but that’s about it for his decoration. There are flowers on the dining table you notice but before you can give him credit for that, you realize they’re fake and you snort out loud. Being the number 39 Pro Hero on the charts probably ate up a lot of his time and you decide to give him credit anyways with a smile on your face.
                    Afterwards you go to the kitchen and find some instant noodles in his cabinet. You get up and balance yourself on the not-broken leg as you turn on the kettle while getting the oil and spices down into the cup. When they’re done, you decide to just eat them in the kitchen, seeing as you’re already sitting down in the wheelchair. How convenient, you muse. Candle settles back in your lap as you slurp up the last of the noodles.
You struggle to get the wheelchair back to the living room, still getting used to propelling yourself forward with your arms – already sore now that Shinsou isn’t pushing you around. As you get up on your left leg, you try to twist yourself so that you can land safely on your back on the couch. It’s easier said than done though, and you end up letting out a yelp as you land on the ground next to the couch. Candle comes running from where she was eating in the kitchen, stepping on your stomach in curiosity. You bellow out a loud laugh and scratch her ear. Your phone starts ringing and by the explosion themed ringtone, you’re already wincing, bracing for a verbal beating. You stretch up to reach the phone on the seat of the wheelchair and just as you’re about to press the green button, it stops ringing.
You go to call the number back but it rings sharply in your hands again before you open the menu. Before you can greet the other person, he starts growling, “don’t fucking ignore my calls, Jesus fuck.”
“Hi Bakugou,” you wince at how out of breath you sound and his scoff tells you everything, “care to fucking inform me why you were admitted to the fucking hospital last night?”
You sit up straighter, giving Candle some butt scratches as she’s scenting your wheelchair, “that’s creepy, how do you know? Also, that’s a lot of fucking’s.”
“You’re officially an employee at my fucking agency, pipsqueak, I keep track of my fucking people,” he deadpans in the other end and you groan out loud, “I’m not even working yet!” you try to argue but he just scoffs again, “and yet, you signed the contract last week. If you need a reminder; this is a Hero Agency, if someone gets admitted to a hospital, I’m being fucking informed. It’s in the contract!” his voice raises an octave at the last part and you’re sure that even though he’s pissed, he’s definitely restraining himself. Dumb fucker, you think. He mirrors your groan from before, “did you not read the contract?” he asks calmly, almost scaring you with how relaxed he suddenly sounds, definitely covering another feeling up.
“I… trust you?” you try, dragging your hand down your face, knowing the excuse is shitty at best. Bakugou throws a good number of colorful swearwords at you before deflating with a groan, “remind me to sit you the fuck down and make you read it aloud for me when you start Tuesday, holy shit.”
You start clicking your tongue in a small rhythm on the roof of your mouth as you give Candle a panicked expression, “…yeah, about that,” you drawl.
“What. Now?”
“The doctor… kinda ordered me, to… to uh, rest? I’m so sorry I’ll make it up to you!”
You hear Bakugou suck in a breath, “oh. Yeah shit, that makes sense. Are you okay?” and you’re momentarily taken aback by the softness that has entered Bakugou’s voice right then that you laugh, “you worried about me?”
“Yeah, so what if I am? How long do you need complete rest?”
You sometimes forget that Bakugou’s become an adult. He’s become softer around his jagged edges, more calm and less frustrated at the world. He’s become more honest, and that includes towards you as well, even if you believe you aren’t deserving of it. Eight months ago, when you saw him for the first time again after nine years, you’d almost been unsure if this was the Bakugou Katsuki that you grew up with or if he had been an impressive clone. He’d reached out to punch your arm but retracted it instantly before impact. Ouch, he’d heard about your condition from Midoriya and now he wanted to act all careful around you too.
“Two weeks.”
“Make it three and we’ll set you up thereafter.”
You sputter out protests as you gather the energy to crawl up on the couch, deciding that the floor isn’t comfortable anymore. It’s harder than you thought it’d be, with the giant cast attached to your leg.
“Bakugou please, my work is stationary at best.”
“There are no big missions that require a tactical genius in the near future, you can take your time recovering. This is a whole new branch I’m setting up; we’ve managed without a Tactical Department for years. Plus, if we need the fuckin’ help, you’re just a phone call away, right?”
You sigh out dramatically to let him know you’re really unsatisfied, “right?” he repeats with more bite.
“Got it, Boss.” You grumble out and he snickers at you, “it’s Boss Dynamite to you, thank you very much.”
He then hangs up and you send Candle a frustrated look as you blow raspberries out into nothing. She shows no sign of moving or reacting from the wheelchair where she’s sleeping comfortably. You’re finally situated on the couch, propping up your leg on the throw pillows as you let out a sigh. You really should’ve thanked Bakugou, you think belatedly.
                   “So you’re requesting… two weeks of vacation?” Midoriya looks at him from the other side of the desk, the raised eyebrow making Shinsou falter, if just for a moment. He’d just finished scolding Shinsou for leaving his partner last night. Maybe he is out of line, requesting this out of nowhere. But in Shinsou’s defense, he hasn’t taken a single vacation day the past three years and often takes the emergency shifts as well – Midoriya knows this.
When Shinsou says your name to explain though, Midoriya smiles, “oh yeah! It’s nice that they’re staying this time, right?” he confesses casually as he goes into the grueling scheduling program where the Hero rosters are planned – he’d often complained about how they should invest in a new system. He shuffles it around a bit and seem to remove Shinsou multiple places and Shinsou lets out a sigh of relief.
Wait.
This time?
Shinsou’s eyes widen at the implication of Midoriya’s words before he can really contain the expression and you can leave it to Pro Hero Deku, number seven on the charts to notice the miniscule changes in his expression within milliseconds. Midoriya winces and the nervousness he was so used to seeing back in high school but had taken a spot at the backburner of his life, resurfaces in his expression, “uh…” he dumbly lets out before Shinsou opens his mouth, “your mom’s in regular contact with them, right?”
Midoriya looks relieved that Shinsou lets him off the hook with that comment and nervously agrees. “I-I thought you knew, h-honestly.” He stammers and Shinsou has a feeling – based on the stuttering that Midoriya originally shed so many years ago – that he knows more than he lets on. Shinsou’s sure that it’s not Midoriya he needs to be grilling for answers though and leave the matter be. Since this is Midoriya and Todoroki’s joint agency, the request for vacation goes by fairly smooth for Shinsou and he’s grateful.
“It needs to go through the HR and the likes, so your vacation isn’t… official? Before the day after tomorrow, but I’ve removed you from the roster the next few days! So you’re clear to go!”
Midoriya circles around the desk after they’ve both gotten up and puts a supporting hand on Shinsou’s shoulders, “I’m not telling you not to be angry but… yeah,” Midoriya seems to be at a loss for any other words but takes Shinsou into a hug nonetheless, “I’m so sorry, Shinsou… please, call me if you need to, alright? Your feelings in this matter, too.”
The ominous weight of Midoriya’s words sink in slowly as he sends Midoriya a confused gaze. But he also knows that Midoriya cares about the both of you – so he doesn’t need to be in the business of asking him to choose between you two or explain what he shouldn’t. He hugs him back and promises to reach out if needed before leaving.
Midoriya had been there for him through the ugly parts after you left. He’d observed and went through the same pain that Shinsou had gone through, becoming a constant and supporting pillar in Shinsou’s life while he’d worked hard to become a new and stable pillar in the hero world.
Shinsou’s life had never been pretty, had never been ideal – but you, you had been. You were a positive aspect in his life and while Shinsou had been abandoned before, it hadn’t hurt nearly as much as when you did it – because the first time? He was too young to remember the concrete feelings. Too young to fully grasp the harm he’d been given for simply existing with a quirk like his. But you’d chosen him, chose to be a part of him and wiggled yourself into his angry heart only to hurt it.
And the hurt you’d put him through wasn’t anything he’d ever experienced, or would ever experience again, he thinks. Not even when he was 21 and ended in a coma, followed by the most grueling recovery process afterwards. Not even when a prominent figure in his life had lost two limbs when he was 24 could compare to the gaping wound that you’d inflicted upon him, offering no closure or healing process. He’d hurt and cried and ached – and his first instinct? His first instinct every time was that he wanted to talk to you. His sick heart wanted to reach out to the one person who’d made it sick in the first place and his anger have seemed bottomless, always simmering, just at the edge of the boiling point inside him ever since.
Shinsou doesn’t realize he’s crying until the elderly lady in front of him in the bus hands him a handkerchief and a soft smile. He’s grateful he went to the agency in regular clothes and not his hero costume today, he thinks as he wipes a tear. A scenario like that would’ve been all over Hero! News.
                            You don’t get to rest for long on the couch before your phone is ringing again, this time it’s the All Might ringtone Midoriya made you buy in the app store before you even moved from Japan. You hurry to pick it up, trying not to sound too exhausted. “I can’t believe you haven’t told Shinsou anything. Like, ever.” Midoriya starts out and judging by the background noises and the time of day, he’s on his way to his favorite convenience store to pick up his lunch – that’s his usual go time to call you, anyway. “I thought you weren’t going to meddle?” you try, although you know this isn’t out of place, he’s dragged into this against his will whether you want him to or not. “Yeah, because I trusted you to contact him. He hasn’t mentioned you in at least four or five years, so I thought you’d at least sent him a freaking letter or something.” Midoriya is about to say something more but you hear fans screeching and asking for his autograph on the other end. You wait patiently as he talks to his fans, humoring their small talk and answering their questions. You clear your throat and he laughs just a little louder as if telling you to be quiet – his audacity has only heightened as he grew older, you think in frustration. Today has been taxing enough already and it’s only lunch.
He politely says goodbye to his fans and the change in his voice almost scares you, “Shinsou just left the office. You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do. You’re going to live at his place?” he says your name in a reprimanding tone that sounds way too much like his mother’s and a shiver runs down your spine, “please don’t do this to him.”
“I didn’t want to!” you can’t help the volume you yell it at, scaring Candle on the wheelchair, “I wanted to start over with him like a normal fucking person, I wanted to crawl to him, beg for his forgiveness and give him all my apologies and more. I wanted to make it up to him in endless ways that’d give him time as well! This wasn’t how I fucking planned it either, so don’t give me that tone.”
Midoriya’s quiet for a few beats too long and you heave out a sigh as you hold back tears, “I didn’t want to do it this way, he doesn’t deserve it this way,” and Midoriya can’t do anything but coo at you – the same way he used to do it when you were children and you’d scraped your knee, the same way he used to do it after Bakugou had beaten you to a pulp, the same sickening comfort that almost automatically eases the burning of your nerve endings as you drag in another deep breath at his demand, “he doesn’t deserve it this way.” You repeat with a shudder.
Midoriya doesn’t know what else to say but some standard, comforting chitchat as you calm back down. He tells you that it takes 20 minutes from his agency to Shinsou’s apartment, so that you can expect him home soon and to brace yourself. He tries to end it with the comforting reminder that you’d finally have each other in your lives again. If he even wants that, you think to yourself bitterly before agreeing with Midoriya so you can hang up faster and catch your breath.
                        Shinsou unlocks his door as quietly as he can. He’s not sure why, Candle will hear him either way and you’d be alerted by his arrival as soon as he opens the door anyway. As he closes the door behind him, Candle comes into the hallway, stretching her body on the way, Shinsou smiles as he puts his keys on the dresser, “hey, have you been sleeping?”
He bends down to scratch her chin and is about to ask her something else, maybe about her day in his embarrassingly shrill voice he only uses for her until he remembers you’re in the next room, able to hear it all.  He blushes at the thought and realizes that it’s been a while since he’s been embarrassed around people he knows.
But does he even really know you anymore? He gulps as he gets back on his feet, walking into the living room. You’re settled on the couch, your leg propped up on the pillows – which he’s happy about, because he wasn’t actually sure how much you listened as the doctor told you how to accommodate it best. You’re snoring softly and Shinsou’s overcome with a deep-seated need to bend down and run a hand through your hair. He isn’t even aware that he’s acted on the urge before he’s face to face with you and notice the streak of a tear that’s been running down your cheek.
He hurries to get back up to his full height as you start turning, blinking slowly a few times as if taking in your surroundings. Shinsou just stares at you dumbstruck, still not quite understanding that you’re here at all, in his life, in his apartment. You greet him through a yawn and Shinsou waves at you – before grabbing his own hand to stop himself, why did he go for a wave?
“We need to talk.”
Shinsou’s in the kitchen, making a quick lunch for himself before having… the talk? With you. He’s running hot today and keep wiping his hands on his shirt, trying to figure out how he’s feeling. Right now, it’s frustration. As he’d seen you wake up on his couch, all anger had dissipated and only love and worry and something warm was bubbling inside him upon seeing your face up close. And that pissed him off he decides, as he stands in the kitchen and puts butter on the bread. He had every right to be angry, the hurt had hurt him.
It'd hurt at different times too, but mostly when he prepared coffee, he realizes as he’s preparing one for each of you. Just how many times had he subconsciously prepared your fucking cup of coffee as if you’d be anywhere near him to drink it? To enjoy it? He knew your coffee by muscle memory alone and how many years hadn’t he spend unlearning that cursed technique? How many times had he woken up fine, slept fine, only to pour the milk in the wrong amount that wasn’t to his tastes but yours? How the hurt had resurfaced, without him wanting it to. How he’d been drowning in a swirl of black, thick coffee, completely caged in his grief as he suffocated to thoughts of you.
The most laughable part of it all is that he still knows exactly how it’s supposed to be prepared, he realizes as he’s standing here, pouring the boiled water gently.                  
 He puts down the cup in front of you by the table and sits down across from you, eating his lunch in silence. You take a sip of the coffee and he doesn’t miss the solemn expression that rests on your face upon tasting it, instantly melting further down in the wheelchair in a state of peace, it seems.
As he finishes rinsing the plate he comes back in with his cup of coffee and sends you a questioning look. “I’m not sure if you or I should start,” he says, biting his lower lip in worry. He fears what might come out of your mouth within the next minutes – or his, if he’s to begin this. He’s not entirely sure he won’t yell at you.
“Let me. I’m the reason we’re in this…” you confess, your grip on the cup tightening.
There’s a beat of silence before you inhale deeply, “I suffer from… or hm, I have… uh, chronic pain?” you pause to think about how you want to relay this to him. You don’t want to sound weak in front of him – not him. You know it’s not the mindset you should have but being with Shinsou makes you incredibly immature, shrinking you back to your teenage self.  Shinsou sits patiently by the dinner table across from you and waits. He seems to be in no hurry at first glance but the fidgeting of his fingers tells another story – he’s trying to do it underneath the table, but you’re not blind to the movements of his shoulders and arms.
“It’s called arthritis and fibromyalgia. The arthritis is… it’s… uh, an autoimmune disease? My bones are grinding? And… it’s basically my body attacking itself and destroying healthy shit… and uh, fibromyalgia, as well that’s… it signals pain, where there shouldn’t be… any?” you try to go by the simple, short, textbook definitions of the two diagnoses, to lessen the overwhelming experience it can be for some. You’re not sure how much knowledge Shinsou has in this field, so going the classic way might make it easier, you decide. He can hear about the specifics you go through after you’ve finished groveling in front of him with endless apologies.
You curse yourself for not having planned this moment any better as you look up and see Shinsou looking perplexed. “It started… almost right after we moved. At first, I was told it had to be the weather, the change in climate, or that…” you take a moment to control your breathing, “…it had to be my body reacting to a big emotional thing like moving… then, that I wasn’t training enough – and suddenly that I was training too much,” you feel your pulse quicken as the anger from the early days rises in you again like a volcano that’d been dormant for a few years now ready to scream and sputter molten hot lava out to destroy it’s nearby grounds in heavy growls.
The complete and utter dismissal you’d been met with had made the whole process take years. The toll it’d taken on you, the invalidation others ended up putting you through – maybe you’d just been sensitive? Maybe you were just lashing out at your parents as retaliation for making you move? Maybe it was all in your head? Maybe it didn’t really hurt as much as you said? You shake your head and take a deep breath to come back to the now. The now with Shinsou in front of you, demanding answers to why you’ve hurt him so deeply.
You bite your lip that’s beginning to wobble as your eyes land on the table to avoid eye contact, “it made me… exhausted and embarrassed. I couldn’t… I couldn’t make myself reach out when it started because… I’d only been met with vague emotions and reactions of ‘get it together’, you know? And that was the people who were physically close me and saw what it did to me!” you feel tears prickling and angrily lift your hand to wipe it away, determined not to falter as you try to control your breathing. You didn’t want Shinsou’s pity. You wanted his understanding but by God, never his pity.
“I was just… so exhausted. And I barely had any vocabulary to explain what was happening to me at the time… and the going-away party you all held for me – the one where you all celebrated the hero I’d become? God I was so embarrassed… I couldn’t make myself tell you all the things that were hurting… I was terrified of appearing weak. Sometimes, I still am.”
You’d spent many years processing all the things that’d happened to you back then, the things you have had to give up, the things that were still happening to you, but talking about the early days still did something, something you weren’t entirely happy about. The disbelief your parents had served you, the exasperation your new Pro Hero teachers had exuded in a strange and foreign country, the skepticism the doctors had offered you, you’d felt so alone.
You take in a deep breath and decide to go for the practical stuff to distance yourself from the emotions for a bit, “Midoriya was informed due to our mother’s keeping contact. Inko probably told him…” you sigh, “the first time I came back here was five years ago, after they finally started testing me, to meet up with Recovery Girl. I’ve been here once a year since, for short periods of time. I’ve lived with Auntie Inko every time and uh, Bakugou’s mom saw me as I visited Inko and told him afterwards.” You take a pause to level your breathing again. You feel like all you’re doing right now is making up excuses, but you feel like he should know the circumstances, “there are few healing quirks at all in the world, and I’ve been with most of them, actually.” You laugh bitterly as your eyes trail to Candle, sprawled out on the floor next to the table, looking comfortable. You’re afraid to look at Shinsou, what if he looks disapproving?
“It’s not… something to be healed. Just like they can’t heal diabetes or asthma – or Parkinson’s, I’m stuck like this. And it, fuck, I should go to therapy for all of this,” a thin laugh leaves you as you look to the ceiling in an effort to avoid crying again, your hands clenched on the table despite the pain in them, crescent shaped indents in your palm threatening to draw blood.
                Shinsou dares not to look directly at you in fear that he might start crying if he does. It’s a lot to process, for starters. You’d been in pain? For so many years? A seasoned Pro Hero like him isn’t a stranger to pain, but he imagines yours is just a little different than what he goes through and cringes at himself for even comparing the two. You’re breathing is ragged at best and your hands are so fidgety that he almost feels restless just by observing them out of the corner of his eye. You’re taking a sip of your coffee to alleviate the agitation and suddenly he feels relieve rather than the anger upon the fact that he still remembers the way you like it, if it can ease you for just a second.
Shinsou has spent many years imagining you as a Pro Hero in a foreign country. He’d searched foreign websites in unknown tongues, tried to decipher the names to try and find yours on there. After a few years he’d become unsure if he perhaps just remembered the country incorrectly so he went through almost all of the European countries’ lists of heroes. He’d imagined you as an amazing hero, perhaps a hero who needed to go undercover or even one who had become an underground one, much like his beloved mentor. Any explanation he could come up with to rationalize your disappearing would hurt a lot less than what was the most possible reality.
Anything would hurt less than the pure, unadulterated truth; you’d left him. You’d abandoned him. He wasn’t sure if he’d decided on that truth solely to shield himself or to try and move on but it’d hurt like hell. He’s spent many years trying to reason it, trying to convince himself that wasn’t the case – but experience only told his brain that he’d once again been abandoned. He’s not sure he’s done recovering from it to this day; so as he sits in front of you by his dinner table, hearing about your life like it hasn’t been 10 years. 10 years of hurt, 10 years of a gaping wound, 10 years of jokingly – but not so jokingly, deep down – considering open-heart surgery in an attempt to cut out the you-shaped piece inside him, just so he didn’t have to feel hurt all the Goddamn time and claw at his chest every other night as he lets out gross sobs in the wake of a nightmare related to you and that stupid, fucking murky coffee.
So he’s not entirely sure how to feel right now.
While he’s harboring great sympathy, prolonged pain does something to one’s empathy, he thinks as he heaves out a sigh. One part of him is ready to embrace you and tell you that he’s here. But another part is ready to throw you to the curb. Abandon you like you abandoned him. Because it hurts.
At the same time he can feel a new kind of hurt scream from his ribcage, clouding the existing hurt with wails of recognition, of clarity. Somehow, it doesn’t really matter that you’d been here five or six times without contacting him, without reaching out, it almost doesn’t matter that other people knew when he didn’t, because all this hurt is weeping about, is that fact that you’ve been alone, going through all of this. You’d had no support system. His body is aching from the thought of you, all alone and his hand instinctively go to the silver chain around his neck, hidden underneath his shirt because he isn’t sure how to tell you that he still carries your ring with him.
So when he finally looks at you, he almost starts sobbing right then and there. He feels empty and filled with love at the same time. He feels like the inky black coffee he’d felt drowned in every other night start to embrace him and remind him that you’re here and that you didn’t… abandon him. The thought feels strange and foreign in his mind and he’s not sure he’s supposed to… forgive you, this fast, but there’s something about seeing you in flesh and blood in front of him with a reason.
Candle jumps up on the dinner table and meows dramatically, demanding that focus shifts to her and you both let out shaky laughs through sobs and sniffles. At the same time you reach out to pet her and she falls to show you her stomach, demanding duo-pets.
As your hands touch, your warmth bleeds into his and he can’t hold back a gasp as he feels the icy cage around his heart start to melt slowly but surely as the heart kicks into overdrive. You’re looking up at him with a hopeful look and he tries to smile back, hoping it translates his heart’s aching words, I’m here, I’ll stay by you.
You wipe a tear as Candle starts purring and Shinsou clears his throat, “this feels like an entirely stupid question and I’m not even sure I’m allowed to ask–“
“Please, you can ask me all the stupid questions you want,” you smile and send him a warm look.
“–you haven’t become a hero, have you?”
You sigh out and retract your hand from Candle and Shinsou immediately starts panicking, no no no no no, don’t push me away, feeling anger churn in his stomach for even asking such a foolish question.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘I was made into a weapon and then asked to find peace’? That describes pretty well how I’ve felt…” you look down and wrap your arms around yourself, a heartbreaking smile on your lips. “I’ve always… had a purpose, for all I did. Always needed to try and get enough sleep so my body was ready for whatever fight I had to participate in. Part of being a good hero is to take care of your body, you know?” and Shinsou is sent back to all the times you reminded him of that phrase as you showed up by his room with a plate of dinner when he hadn’t had the energy to show up or forced him to take a nap while you studied or read in his room.
“I stopped knowing what… standard to live by. My body belonged to my dream, you know? Eating healthy, going for runs and keeping my martial arts sharp, keeping the body fit to be a hero… none of that suddenly mattered anymore when I couldn’t even do the fucking dishes or get up from the bed. Fighting was all that I was and I’m not even sure I’ve truly discovered what I am without it, yet.”
You sigh, taking another big sip of your coffee. “It’s by some miracle that I have the quirk that I have. I’m lucky, you know?” you sound bitter as you spit out the last sentence, your grip on the cup tightening.
“After Bakugou heard what… was going on – from Midoriya, most likely, he contacted me… he called my parents and called my parent’s work until I was forced to talk to him,” you snort and a little warmth returns to your eyes, “he offered me a job, he offered to make a whole fucking department in his agency for me. And he just. He did that, and I… I hadn’t been able to see color for a while and when he did that, I got up, you know?”
Shinsou sees you bite your lip, “I got up from under the covers, I made the bed, right?”
Shinsou swallows thickly, completely entranced by your voice. To him, it felt almost like you were the owner of his quirk and had commanded him listen – because he couldn’t do anything but listen after every word like it was water and he was dying of thirst. Your voice and story his oasis.
“And I decided to accept it and come back. I decided to face whatever I’m facing… head on. And that included you.”
You lick your lip as you look around the apartment, a clear attempt to avoid looking at Shinsou. “I’m so fucking sorry, Shinsou, you never deserved this.”
He doesn’t miss the quiver in your voice and you finally look at him, your hands reaching out. He’s about to reach out as well, take your hands in his when Candle swats at them, once again showing her belly and demanding focus returns to her.
Once again, she makes you both smile and look at each other as you both pet her soft stomach.
You look back down, “I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I never meant to lock you out of my life because by God, I missed you. I wanted to reach out so bad, I was just so afraid. And I can’t say anything but tell you how absolutely sorry I am and beg for your forgiveness.”
Shinsou feels taken back at your words. He’d never seen himself as someone so important as to need someone groveling for his forgiveness.
“I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I don’t expect you to forgive me now, or anytime. You have a… right, not to, of course. I get that you’re angry, you’re allowed to be. But just know,” you grab his hands – rather forcefully, he notices – from Candle’s belly and caress his wrist with your thumbs, “I’ll do anything to have you back in my life. I didn’t plan for it to go…” you gesture to the wheelchair you’re sitting in, “…like this, obviously. I wanted to come into your life gradually, give you time to adjust… to forgive, properly. And Shinsou,” you look him deep in the eyes and he gulps, “I’ll gladly move out again today if you need it. I’ll manage, if you’re worried.”
Shinsou feels like he’s floating, so he doesn’t say anything as he processes your words. He feels that he’s not in his body right now as he observes you. This feels like everything he’s ever dreamed of during the nights he’d allowed wishful thinking to rot and infest his brain. He’s shaking, he registers as he tries to blink. Hearing you say all the words he needed, lifts him completely from the tar-like ink he’d been drowning in ever since he realized you weren’t going to call him back 10 years ago. And once again, you’re telling him the words he needs to hear, like you did back when you wormed into his heart the first time.
A sob leaves him, as he squeezes your hands back. A hopeful laugh combined with a sob leaves you as you observe his reaction. Shinsou retracts his hands and he doesn’t miss the initial panic written on your face and how it immediately turns into unadulterated relief as he rounds the table to gather you in a soul-crushing hug.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he grits out as he still bravely tries to hold back from full-on crying, wanting to avoid overwhelming you.
You stay this way for several minutes and Shinsou’s back is aching from bending over you like this but he can’t really convince himself to let go anytime soon, so relieved that you’re here. You sob into his chest, clenching at his t-shirt and shaking in his arms. He registers your tears soaking through his t-shirt in the back of his mind as he adjusts his arms around you, cooing into your hair and kissing the crown of your head, mirroring what you used to do with him when you were younger.
You’re whispering out strews of apologies and he’s telling you it’s okay and to let it out and that he’s here as he gently starts to massage your back. You wince at the movement and shies away from his hand and he retracts himself from you in panic.
“Sorry, it’s just… sometimes, being touched hurts,” you admit as you wipe your cheek from tears and he apologizes with a panicked expression.
“No, no, don’t apologize!” you hurry to get out as you reach out for his arms again, “it’s just… a lot, right now?” you wince and caresses his arm with your hands, “I’m just… overwhelmed,” and you can’t hold back a yawn. He offers you to take a nap in the bedroom and you look… sad? He’s not sure he reads the expression right.
You pout, “I just. I’m finally… talking to you, you know?” Shinsou can’t hold back a chuckle as he realizes you’re being sleepy and childish. “We’ll have all the time in the world to talk from now on, don’t we?” he smirks as you cross your arms in front of you. “But I want to talk right now,” you try and he lets a laugh rumble out from the pits of his stomach, his cheeks warming up from the giddiness, “I’ll go in there with you if needed but if you’re tired, you need rest.”
                         “When’s your next shift?” you ask tentatively as you rub your eyes and get comfortable in his bed. Shinsou’s standing by the bottom of the bed, fluffing up a pillow for your leg despite your protests. He looks away from you, “eh, not in a few days– is this alright?” He’s placing the pillow gently and you raise your leg, “it’s more than fine, Shinsou, thank you.”
He’s blushing as he walks over to his closet to grab the extra duvet that’s been folded meticulously so it’d fit inside the bottom drawer. You get comfortable – as comfortable as you can at least, with the giant cast that’s making every sleeping position you like out of the question. You sigh dramatically and flail around a bit and Shinsou laughs at you from the other side of the bed.
He’s shuffling on his feet, unsure on whether or not to get into the bed with you – does he lie down or does he sit up? You pat the space next to you with a smile and Shinsou’s heart explodes at the implication of possible cuddles. Your cuddles were always the best, he remembers fondly but he’s unsure if it’s too soon. It definitely is, right?
So he mechanically sits up against the headboard, putting the still folded duvet on his lap, clearing his throat. He’s sure you’ve noticed how stiff he is, but you don’t comment on it as you fold your own duvet into a huggable cuddle partner.
You yawn as you reach out a hand towards him, tugging him just a tad closer but never forcing him into more than necessary. Shinsou’s about to ask if you’re comfortable but as his gaze lands on you, realizes you’re already asleep. He huffs out a soundless laugh, more pushing air out of his nose and lets his hand reach your cheek, caressing it for a few seconds before sitting more comfortably. He can do this, he thinks.
He can have you back in his life, and he will support you in every way he possibly can – every way you weren’t supported, when you’d been due for it, he decides. Having you here is more than plenty to forgive you again.
                    Shinsou’s in the kitchen, serving the rice in bowls. It’s been a while since he’s made a fully homecooked meal, with all the overtime he’s been doing lately, but cooking for someone else has become one of his preferred pastimes and he proudly observes the food before starting to set the table in the living room.
Admittedly, he’d been in the mood to make you a more traditional-style meal, suspecting you’ve been living off convenience store food since you arrived. He also isn’t sure how much traditional food you’d gotten back west, so he thought it’d be fun to make some. He just hadn’t considered that his mushrooms and carrots had gone bad in his fridge, and that he hadn’t thawed any meat from the freezer. So the only meat he had was chicken breast he’d bought on sale yesterday before his shift and still hadn’t sorted into the freezer (luckily, otherwise there probably wouldn’t have been enough meat).
So he makes do with what he’s got which led to him setting the table with seasoned rice, a few vegetables and chicken cut into smaller pieces and fried with some garlic and ginger. So as he’s finished setting the table, he nods to himself before going into the bedroom.           
You’re still asleep, Candle propped up by your face, stealing half of your pillow from you, your arm lodged underneath her stomach. She’s glaring at Shinsou for interrupting this moment and jealousy rises in him for a second that his cat seems displeased at his arrival. He walks to the bed and gently calls your name a few times, but you don’t seem to stir.
So he leans over the bed and gently nudges at you, and you groan. “There’s dinner,” he tries and you let out a snore before burrowing your face into the pillow. “’s nice here,” you mumble out and he’s unsure if he hears you correctly, “smells like you.” and Shinsou’s horribly reminded that you’re currently asleep in the sheets that he’s supposed to change this weekend, red marking his features as he turns more desperate in getting you up, embarrassed that he even let you sleep in it to begin with.
You whine out his name as he pushes you gently, clearly unhappy at the prospect of being forced out of your slumber. He promises you a bigger portion of rice than him, and you seem more willing – though he struggles still.
“You’re being unfair,” you grumble as you finally sit up in the bed, your cheeks puffed up in a pout. He can’t hold back a laugh at your frame, looking so debauched and exhausted. “I have jetlag still, you know!” you argue and Shinsou doesn’t argue back but just teasingly tells you to hurry before Candle eats your portion of dinner. “By the way, we need to go grocery shopping tomorrow, if there’s to be… more than cup noodles in the apartment,” Shinsou says by the doorframe until he remembers the wheelchair and hurries back to push you into the living room.                
 “I’ll change the sheets later, by the way, and set up on the couch.”
You nod as you take a bite of chicken, “I’ll help! Would you mind if one of the suitcases stay in the living room then? I promise to keep it as tidy as possible!”
“Why would you want it away from you?” Shinsou doesn’t look at you as he’s taking a sip of water, “you’re sleeping in the bedroom.”
“What are you talking about? This is your home!” you protest, sending him a glare you hope is convincing. He shakes his head, “nuh-uh, not happening. You’re injured,” he argues and you groan, “so?”
He’s still avoiding eye contact, which makes you puff out your cheeks in a pout, kicking him under the table with your good leg. “Hey!” he sends you a scowl but at least he’s looking at you.
“Shinsou, I can’t force myself into your apartment like this and take your bedroom from you.”
He chews on a piece of chicken, “I forced you in here, remember? And I don’t mind you having it and that’s final.”
You’re not sure whether or not to keep arguing, so you let out a dissatisfied groan and continue eating your food, letting him have his way.
              You’re on the couch, sprawled out and eating chips from a bowl strategically placed on your stomach. Shinsou’s in the corner of the couch with your legs on his lap. There’s a documentary about sea creatures in the television, giving you frightening facts about the deep sea. As it shows a squid that’s bioluminescent you gasp dramatically at a cut where it’s moving through the water. Shinsou snorts at you, “is it really that amazing? That red squid?”
“Hey! It’s the Saturoteathisis Syrtensusis, at least show it some respect and say its proper name!” and he laughs again, “there is no way you pronounced that correctly,” and you throw a potato chip after him, smirking as you hit him square on the forehead.
“Not much is known about the Stauroteuthis Syrtensis’s reproduction process. When they have been observed in the wild, they are alone...”
“See, you didn’t say it like that!” Shinsou points an accusatory finger at the screen with confidence and you simply grab another chip and throw it into your mouth, loudly chewing on it, “that’s the exact way I said it, you dingus.”
He puffs out an annoyed breath, shaking his head as he decides not to fight this matter further. It’s been a few days since you arrived in his apartment like a whirlwind and you’d spent the last few days getting reacquainted – it took surprisingly little to fall into comfortable, old habits and the atmosphere was generally comfortable. He’d been interested in learning your medication’s names and when you took them, so he could help you grab them from the dresser when you needed them – he’d listened intently to how you experienced the pain and which symptoms you suffered from, been allowed to ask all the “dumb” questions and generally been supportive – his cooking had surprised you as he’d gotten surprisingly good at it, but you’d reveled in it – and perhaps, teased him just a bit. He wasn’t afraid to tease back, and the bickering was familiar, safe, warm.
Tonight, Kaminari and Sero’s going to come over. Kaminari had been blowing up Shinsou’s phone upon finding out that he took vacation – “you took vacation!?” you’d exclaimed in surprise and he’d grumbled out something unintelligible – and then told Kaminari to shut up, earning a very loud and screechy “WHO’S WITH YOU?” to which Shinsou had almost dropped his phone. He’d looked to you for permission, unsure if he was allowed to tell your rowdy friends of your arrival.
Needless to say, they’d been excited. Shinsou’s bouncing his leg and you feel the nervousness emit from his body in waves as your eyes are trained on the documentary. “Hey, are you alright?” you ask with worry, turning down the volume of the TV.
“There’s uh, something I gotta, uh, tell you… about them, specifically Denki,” he says shakily and you sit up a bit straighter, nervous for what news he’s going to break.
“They’re dating, Sero and Denki.”
You accidentally snort out a laugh before clearing your throat, nodding solemnly. “I remember that they were into each other already back then, yes,” you say with all the seriousness you can muster. Shinsou blushes and looks at you incredulously, “that’s not the part that’s important! I’m opening the story here, Jesus,” he says as he crosses his arms in disappointment. You snicker, “sorry Mr. Storyteller, please continue.”
He sends you a look – but it’s without any heat as a sigh follows, seemingly steeling himself for his coming news, “Denki and I used to… date… for like 6 months…” and he hides his face in his hands. You’ve never sat up faster in your life, effectively letting the bowl of chips slip from your stomach and tumble to the floor, “no way!” you exclaim and Shinsou sighs rather dramatically, “…yeah.”
“How did that happen?”
“It’s dumb, please!” Shinsou tries, hoping you’re going to let him rat out of the explanation.
You’re not though, definitely not.
He groans and let his hands fall to your legs, accidentally landing on your cast with too much force and you yelp. He panics and apologizes and you send him a sly smirk, “I’ll forgive you only if you serve me the tea.”
“Can I still ask you to leave my apartment?” he tries, dragging his hands down over his face. You kick him lightly with your left foot, “no way in hell. Now, spill the deeds!”
He huffs out a breath as he rests both hands on your cast, wrapping them together as he straightens his back. “After you left… uh, I was… touch-starved?” a twinge of guilt runs through you at his admission, “I don’t know if that’s the right word…” he thinks it over, tasting different words on his tongue before muttering one out loud, “I was lonely. And Kaminari was… going through a whole epiphany with his sexuality, you know. And adulthood was so scary for both of us. The dolt was also convinced Sero was straight, apparently.”
A snort leaves you at the image of Kaminari being so utterly blind. “We both needed comfort, I guess? So we… got together. Like, on a basis that was just casual. But we did end up being together for half a year or so.”
You send a mental thank you note to Kaminari for taking care of Shinsou while you’ve been gone, glad he’s had a support system back then, keeping the jealousy currently rising inside you deep down, down where it doesn’t need to be discussed. “Wait, when was this?”
“When we were like, 19, shortly after we’d graduated, so it’s ancient history, I swear!” Shinsou seems eager to convince you and you reach out a hand to his arm, “it’s okay, take it easy,” and you squeeze his arm. He blushes and you assume it’s because he’s thinking of Kaminari, so you send him a warm smile, “so, Kaminari’s your type?” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him. An expression of panic goes on his face as he looks at you with wide eyes and open mouth, “no! My type is like…” and it seems he bites his tongue to stop himself. You pat his arm before retracting it, trying to conceal your own beating heart and nervousness, tutting at yourself mentally for hoping he'd said it was you who’d been his type. If you’d ever had a shot with Shinsou, that shot had passed you 10 years ago, you reason to yourself as you bend down to pick up the bowl and chips with a solemn smile.
He seems to be quiet as well, as he observes you clean up the floor after you. “Why’d you tell me?” you ask quietly, trying to suppress your timidness. “Huh?”
“There must be a reason you’re telling me, right?” you retract your legs from him so you can sit up and put the bowl on the coffee table, putting distance between you as you fear the answer. “Oh, because Kaminari still doesn’t let me live it down. I’m guessing he’s going to tell you about it later, so I wanted you to hear it from me, at least.”
You try to force out a laugh at him, “sounds like him.” You move to get back up on the wheelchair, and he instantly rises to come over and help you. He’s been good like that, always coming to help you whenever you need it and pushing you wherever he’s able to. Yesterday, you even went to the park together, just because you wanted to get outside for a bit. “Where to?” he asks and you hide your face, “I was just going to go to the kitchen with the bowl…”
Shinsou sighs loudly and grabs the bowl from your hands, “I could’ve just done that!”          
 It’s 8PM and it is loud. The moment Sero and Kaminari entered the apartment, it’s been loud and bustling and warm. They’re so happy to see you despite the fact that you’d practically ghosted them for 10 years, giving you long and loving hugs, welcoming you back with soft smiles. You’ve decided to all sit by the dinner table and play a boardgame, a thing you can be part of without awkwardly taking up the entire couch or point too much attention to your wheelchair.
You’re playing Monopoly, and Kaminari’s getting his ass handed to him in such a way that he’s currently leaned over you and crying. While crying in your embrace, his arm keeps sneaking up to try and take some of your money, but to no avail, since you stand strong and diligently swaps his hand away at every attempt. While Sero and Shinsou is crushing both you and Kaminari and effectively making you rack up debt after debt, you’re getting to re-know the two of them as they tell you about their lives. Kaminari works at Mt. Agency and Sero actually works in Bakugou’s agency, making him your colleague in just a few short weeks. You think you see Shinsou make a grimace at that, but the moment is gone too soon for you to dig into. “So that’s you! I heard that they were setting up a new department to tackle the whole tactical part of our work! That’s so interesting!” Sero admits and enthusiastically asks for details and tells you of your future workplace as well.
You tell them in minor details about your conditions and Kaminari puts a supporting hand on your shoulder as you open up – with less tears than with Shinsou, you notice when you’re done. Sero and Kaminari moved in together just a year ago and Shinsou’s right – Kaminari does not waste a single opportunity to mention that they dated, mostly to tease Shinsou. You can’t help but feel out of the loop when Sero awkwardly tells him to stop embarrassing Shinsou or spill secrets that weren’t his to tell – unsure of what any of that meant.
As you’re about to admit defeat in the cursed boardgame, Candle jumps up on the table. It’s her fourth attempt to land on the board tonight and this time she succeeds. The boardgame pieces are strewn every which way and she doesn’t hesitate to flick her paws at all the bundles of money on Shinsou’s side of the table. There’s roaring laughter as Shinsou frantically tries to get her away so he can retain his victory. After she’s successfully transported to your lap to receive punishment pets – “I thought she hated everyone but you?” Sero comments to Shinsou and you preen at the implication – Kaminari snickers as he announces that since the whole board is now a mess, they should call it quits. Everyone nods and agrees until he stands up dramatically to bow, “thank you all for the support, I am glad to announce that I was the winner! Hanta my dear, I am sorry to tell you this, but you got fourth place!”
“Hah? What’s up with that logic?” Shinsou asks as he’s collecting all the small house figures. You laugh and play along, “yeah, Shinsou, I’m sorry about third place. I’m honored to be number two tonight!” and you give Kaminari a high-five. “You guys were nowhere near winning!” Sero pouts and Kaminari winks, “you have no way of proving that now, do you? I mean, the board’s a mess. That money could’ve easily been ours!”
“But it wasn’t!” he tries and you cross your arms with a solemn expression, “it’s your words against ours, I’m afraid.”
Shinsou snorts and whispers something to Sero, who upon hearing the secret, shares a knowing smirk. With a teasing glint, he concludes, “well if the children want the win, I guess I’ll be the bigger person and let them.”
Your jaw drops, unsure whether or not to take the bait – before you can decide though, Kaminari’s already taken it and run with it. “Sadly, you can’t be the bigger person when you’re so short.” Shinsou can’t help but chuckle at the comeback and Sero pouts, “you’re less than an inch taller than me!” and Kaminari tuts at him, “doesn’t change the fact that I’m still taller.” And you look at them, bewildered, “didn’t Sero used to be the tall one?” and Kaminari lights up like a Christmas tree at the question, already jumping over next to Sero to prove that he’s grown since high school. Sero looks significantly less amused but still gets up from the chair so you can compare the two. “I had a growth spurt!” he proudly admits and you hear Shinsou chuckle out an “about time” as he puts the boardgame back in the second drawer of the dresser.
              Shinsou’s standing with two different kinds of ketchup’s in hand, giving you the biggest pout he can muster, “but it’s the best one,” he whines, holding up the Heinz Ketchup higher than the local one. You’re currently trying to convince him to buy said local one, because it’s the one you like – you’ve been trying to use the price as the winning argument but he’s not convinced. “But it doesn’t taste the same… Shinsou, I’ve been deprived of local ketchup for my Omurice and you’re going to force me to eat the western one when I’m finally back home?”
He frowns as he, through incomprehensible grumbling, puts both of them into the basket on your lap and goes behind you to push you again. You let out a laugh, “that was a rough decision, wasn’t it?”
“It hurt,” he mumbles before walking over to the dairy section. His phone starts ringing and he lets you push yourself the rest of the way so you can pick out eggs and milk while he answers.
Words apparently travels fast about your (more permanent) arrival and this’s the first in a line of calls directed towards you. He comes up to you and hands you the phone. When you send him a questionable look, he simply shrugs and looks at the milk.
“Hi?”
Your name is screeched in the other end and you have to hold back your own squeal in this very public place, “Momo!”
Shinsou snickers into the supermarket fridge, picking up two liters of milk and gently placing them in the basket you’re still carrying as you talk vividly. He overhears you plan a meet-up and warmth spreads through his insides at the prospect of you being a part of his and his friend’s lives again.
While he stayed in contact with most of his classmates, he still withdrew a bit upon you leaving. He also suspects some of them weren’t sure how to comfort him while they, themselves, went through losing a close friend. Admittedly, he distanced himself quite a bit – they reminded him of you, and that simply hurt too much back then.
He doesn’t miss the warm smile adorning your lips the rest of the trip and all the way home, happy at the thought of reuniting with more of your friends.
                      Shinsou stands next to the couch with the remote control in hand, “I’m just letting you know in advance and also giving you full advocacy to say no, by the way! But the first Tuesday of every month uh, my family comes by for a potluck-like dinner, and it’s… next week.”
Shinsou’s expression is unreadable – he’s sporting a twist between a lopsided smile, raised eyebrows and a scrunched-up nose and you’re unsure of what emotion it’s supposed to convey. The reason he looks so… unreadable, is because he isn’t sure how you’ll take the news – he half-expects you to protest or find a way to avoid it (which he definitely understands) – he honestly expects every kind of reaction except for the one you give him. You’re suddenly up in his space, arms tight around his neck as your nose is buried in his collar, exhaling a breathy “oh my God, congratulations!”
You’re practically shaking from excitement and it’s at that moment Shinsou realizes that you never even knew he’d been adopted. His heart aches in ways he’s almost getting used to since you came back, a wave of warm water once again melting more of the ice cage his heart is wrapped around. He wraps his arms slowly around your waist, barely touching you. Unsure how else to react, he lets out a wheezy “t-thank you.”
He's not entirely sure why tears are lining up to spill from his eyelids, why a sob is threatening to leave him like it did back when you first took him in for who he was, but there’s something about experiencing your explicit happiness for him and hearing you congratulate him as if it was yesterday that stirred something in him – something he realized he was missing back when he’d first told Kaminari. It’s the way he had wanted you to be the first but you weren’t there. Something in him cracks and the arms that’s wrapped around your waist tightens further, bringing you in so much closer, close enough that your heartbeats merge – or so it feels. You both exhale shaky breaths and tiny puffs of laughter but reluctant to let go. It isn’t until he remembers that you’re technically on one leg with the other one broken that he abruptly releases you and guides you back down on the couch, “sorry for keeping you standing.”
While he’s bent down you raise a hand to wipe a tear from his cheek, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” and he shakes his head and lets a hand rest on his chest, close to his heart, “you were, inside.”
You share a moment of warm smiles, your hand still resting on his cheek before your eyes widen and you slap the hand back to your own mouth in surprise, “fuck, I’m so sorry!” you yell out to his face – like you forgot how close he is – before you let a hand run through his hair, his shiver reminding you that he’s still not used to the physical closeness you’re bringing him, “I’ve been calling you Shinsou! Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about that! Jesus shit!”
Shinsou looks at you almost comically, the confused stare he’s sending back reminding you of that one calculating meme, his brows high on his forehead. “Oh!” he then exclaims, chuckling before raising himself back up again, stretching his arms – it reveals a sliver of his stomach to you and it feels like steam is rising from your ears with the way your temperature rises for a second.
“I’m still Shinsou Hitoshi,” he says just as he gets his back to crack, letting out a satisfied groan, “since I was adopted in like, the end of the second year and I was almost 18, we decided it’d be a hassle to change the name – I’d have to explain it to all the connections I’ve gotten through the internships and work studies, so they asked me what I wanted.” He sits down on the couch next to you, “I didn’t mind the name, that wouldn’t take away from the fact that I’d gotten a family, so I kept it.”
You’re beaming in the chair, your hands restless from the excitement, “what are they like!?” Shinsou chuckles at your eagerness, “it’s Shouta and Hizashi, and they’ve taken such good care of me. After I graduated U.A I moved in with them for a few years, to get my career started properly.”
The warmth he uses to talk about them with fills you with love and affection and you’re so excited to meet them once the weekend’s ended. You’re going to meet up with Yaoyorozu and Jirou Saturday, so it does give you two free days to rest your body in-between. You’re glad Shinsou’s patient and accepting regarding your need for rest, seemingly understanding of how exhausting chronic pains can be in the day-to-day life.
               “Why was it always so complicated between you two?” Jirou asks this as she takes a bite of her cake. You shrug your shoulders and lean over with your fork to her plate, silently asking for permission to taste the chocolate cake there. She nods and pushes the plate slightly closer to you. “I mean we were teenagers. Everything was complicated,” you reply as you take the piece of cake in your mouth, letting a pleased hum leave you as you get a taste. Yaoyorozu and Jirou both agree, “you’re adults now though, doesn’t make it… easier?” Yaoyorozu asks carefully and you lean your head to the left as you think about it, “I think… I think things ended so messy and complicated back then that it’s turned into this… giant knot – and untangling it takes priority. I don’t think we can just start over, with all that history.”
You’re at Yaoyorozu’s place, sitting out on her balcony, enjoying high tea – she’s been very excited and ordered home several different cakes. Jirou’s moved in with her, though to Yaoyorozu’s family, she’s still simply a friend. They told you they’re still working out how to tell them they’re engaged.
They both nod solemnly at your reply but Jirou breaks it with a sly smile, “you’re still in love with him, right?”
You feel heat return to your face as your eyes squeeze shut, almost feeling like a high school student again with all the embarrassment. Yaoyorozu giggles at you, “honestly, I think it’s very romantic. The way you’re reunited after 10 years… it’s like you were meant to be!” her hand has traveled to her cheek, looking dreamy, “it’s right out of one of your favorite romances, huh?” Jirou smiles warmly at her fiancée and you feel something positive bloom in your chest as well.
“I don’t think he’s into me, though,” you confess and they both gasp dramatically at you, “there’s no way he’s not! He’s most certainly been into you since high school,” Yaoyorozu insists with a decided look on her face, taking another sip of tea.
“He wasn’t back then, remember? Back when you made me ask,” you huff, picking at your piece of carrot cake with your fork, it did hurt to be this close with him again – if you thought you were in love with him back then? It’s tenfold now that he’s back in your life as an adult – the way he’s become so grown, so mature and so devastatingly handsome, driving you absolutely crazy.
“Honestly, I think he might’ve just been too immature! He had a lot going on too, right?”
“Yeah, but even when I said that I’d been in love with Bakugou, he didn’t react!” you try, puffing up your cheeks. “I still don’t completely understand why you said that” Jirou admits, reaching onto Yaoyorozu’s plate to taste the strawberry tart placed there.
“You were the ones who told me to say that, though!” you protest, reaching for the teacup you’re convinced is worth more than your entire life.
“But we didn’t intend for you to say it like that,” Yaoyorozu argues, “it was meant to be a fail-safe, to check for his reaction if he’d said yes. Based on his emotional reaction, you would’ve been able to read if you were the one that he was interested in. I do admit, it was an entirely immature procedure we came up with back then.”
You groan and lean back on the wheelchair, “it’s ridiculous. It’s been 10 years but I’m still blushing like a Victorian teenager at the thought of kissing him.”
They both laugh at you and Yaoyorozu reaches out for Jirou’s hands, “we’ve been together for 11 years and it still feels like that, sometimes.”
You smile brightly at them, your mood lifted just from observing them and their love. You shift the subject away from your horrible teenage crush on your best friend and tell them about your condition. Yaoyorozu gets teary-eyed and Jirou tells you that her uncle suffers from arthritis too and she’s seen what it can do to people – it’s nice, you think.
You haven’t talked much about your conditions with other people in recent years, mostly because you’d been met with all the negative reactions, “but you’re so young!”, “you shouldn’t take so many pills, it’s unhealthy for such a young person!” and the crown of them all, “are you sure you can’t just push through it?”
But you should’ve known better, you think. You should’ve known that your friends would’ve always been there and supported you. You cringe inwardly at the guilt and regret but decide that the whole reason you came back was to face it head-on – that includes putting the past behind you and moving on from your former isolating decisions. Happiness blooms in your chest at being surrounded by such good people after just a few weeks of being back.
                      “Anyways… thank you so much for today. I think it’s helped me clear things up a bit,” you lean up from the wheelchair to hug them both and when they squeeze you tightly between them, you can’t stop the smile that shines your lips. “Safe trip home!” they say as the driver’s helps you into the car – you’re not entirely surprised that Yaoyorozu prepared for a driver to bring you back and forth, but it still feels extremely exclusive.
“Again, thanks! And I’ll meet his family on Tuesday, so that’ll probably make us closer as well, right?” you smile and wave and the confused faces of your friends goes right by you, as the driver closes the door after you. “Meet…?” Yaoyorozu asks and sends Jirou a questioning look. Before they can ask you to elaborate however, you’re already gone, leaving the entrance of Yaoyorozu’s family estate.
             You’ve gotten better at maneuvering the wheelchair yourself, so when you hear the knock on his front door, you’re pushing yourself to the living room from the kitchen. You’d been keeping an eye on the boiling water as Shinsou had been setting the table. You’re feeling both excited but also incredibly nervous about meeting the people who’d taken Shinsou in and shown him the love he’d always deserved. He hadn’t gone into much detail about them as people and you kind of assumed that he just wanted you to meet them without prejudice, so you’d decided not to pry.
You’re nervous for two reasons.
One, meeting parents are always a daunting experience. You’re not entirely sure how much he’s told them about you – specifically how you left him for a whole decade only to come back and live in his apartment. So, needless to say, you’re unsure of what to expect.
Two, what if they don’t like you? What if you don’t like them? You’re very much in love with their son and have been gathering the courage to admit it to yourself and confess – at least, just to get it out of your system, you argue to yourself.
As you hear them greet each other your back straightens and you think to yourself that you faintly seem to recognize their voices but since you can’t place them immediately, you shrug it away. You put on a polite smile as they enter the living room, determined to be the absolute dream for potential parent-in-laws in case you live in a reality where Shinsou reciprocates your feelings.
There’s really no way to describe the way your jaw drops as the three of them enter the living room. Shinsou smiles at you like this isn’t some earth-shattering revelation.
His parents are giving you the biggest smiles and you’re completely entranced until the blond one speaks, “it’s been a while, young listener!” bending down to give you a hug. He’s clearly excited to see you again, celebrating some sort of reunion. Behind him, your old homeroom teacher is standing with a warm smile and a pot in his hands. Present Mic – are you even allowed to call him Hizashi like Shinsou did? – laughs at your dumbstruck expression and pats your shoulder as he welcomes you back.
When Aizawa nears you, you shrink in on yourself and he chuckles at you, “I’m not your teacher anymore,” he says as he leans in for a hug. You laugh awkwardly and hug him back as your brain processes… this interesting situation. Your former teachers… are Shinsou’s parents… it’s not that you don’t believe them to be good parents, it’s just so absurd that you can’t wrap your head around it – and why the hell did Shinsou not tell you this part? Did he honestly just assume that you were on a first-name basis with your old high school teachers?
You laugh out loud and remove a strand of hair from your forehead, “I’m sorry I’m so… flabbergasted? Shinsou didn’t tell me who his parents were,” you send him a stern look and as soon as you spot the mischievous grin he’s carrying, almost Cheshire-like and entirely Aizawa-like, you groan and hide your face in your hands, “you did this on purpose, didn’t you?” and they all laugh out loud, “Hitoshi’s become quite fond of Shouta’s way of fooling people. It’s not uncommon for either of them to do stuff like this,” Yamada tells you with a supportive hand on your shoulder and you groan again, shaking your head at him. “You’ll pay for this,” you tell him with a pointed finger, and he nods challenging at you. Yamada leans down, “don’t worry, I fall for them too, all the time.”
Aizawa spots Candle on the couch and walks to her, bending down. As soon as he nears her though, her fur stands up on her back and she hurries away, into the bedroom. He looks dejected, his arm falling to his sides, “give it up, Shouta dear, she’s not a fan of you and never will be,” Yamada laughs. You giggle and Shinsou sends his dad a playful look, “you know, Candle loves them,” he points to you and Aizawa whips his head so fast towards you, looking pointedly dejected, “what’s your secret?” he asks and you shrug your shoulders, “I guess we’re just meant to be.”
           You’re sitting around the dinner table, talking animatedly as you eat the food – there’s a variety of different dishes, lots of vegetables and different meats. There’s both some roasted chicken, mackerel, tempura shrimps and fried pork, making it a real feast. Your heart squeezes in on itself, experiencing the family warmth that’s surrounding the table, pure joy emanating from the apartment at this moment in time.
“Eri was so jealous when she heard you’d be here as well,” Yamada tells you with a glint in his eyes. She had an exam coming up and had to stay home and study – you still can’t believe that gentle little girl’s already in high school. “Oh! I didn’t think she’d remember me,” you admit – you didn’t interact with her much back then, and you’re sure she’d been overwhelmed either way.
“She remembers you clearly – probably based on all of Hitoshi’s talking and pictures of you,” Aizawa says flatly and you hear the unmistaken sound of kicking underneath the table, though no one reacts above it. You chuckle at the admission, your heart soaring at the thought of Shinsou talking so much about you that she knows who you are still.
“I didn’t talk that much,” Shinsou says, purposely sounding as flat as Aizawa as to not give his embarrassment away, though no one at the table misses the slight wobble to the pitch.
“Your little crush in high school was so cute, though,” Yamada says with a teasing tone and another kick, harder this time, is heard again. You chuckle and look at Shinsou, “you had a crush on me?”
He chokes on a piece of pork and you hurry to hand him his waterglass. Aizawa chuckles and puts a hand on Yamada’s, a silent way to tell him to reign it back and says, “we thought you were dating back then for sure, but I think we just saw ourselves in that relationship,” he looks at Yamada with love shining in his eyes and you’re seconds away from cooing at them, a lovesick sigh leaving you.
“Well, I had a giant crush on Shins- on Hitoshi, too back then,” you try to laugh it off with a scratch to your neck. It sounds like Shinsou’s crush was in past tense, so you see it as a way to get the whole confession thing out of the way, without making it awkward later between you.
“Oh?” Yamada sounds interested and Shinsou gets more food stuck in his throat, choking once again. You fill his waterglass again and hands it to him, patting his back – it’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name – inspired by his family doing so – so you’re convinced he’s reacting to that. “Be careful when you eat,” you try and he nods, pointedly looking away from you. Should you have continued to call him Shinsou?
He clears his throat, “how is Eri doing in school?” they all recognize it as a way to get away from the subject and accept it, as Aizawa starts telling about her well-being.
“It is lucky her parents are both teachers though!” you exclaim and they nod, “she struggled a bit in the beginning of high school – organizing her study time and priorities have really helped though,” Aizawa contemplates as he puts down his utensils.
She’s in a regular high school, still struggling with controlling her quirk when she’s particularly stressed – though it has been more than three years since she last had a slip-up. The conversations gradually switch to the couch with coffee and a cake that Aizawa and Yamada brought, talking about your conditions.
“I have nerve pain as well,” Aizawa explains, “haven’t been formally diagnosed but Recovery Girl has been telling me about fibromyalgia. Have you tried getting on Pregabalin?” he asks as he puts down his coffee cup, “the anxiety medicine?” you ask for clarification and he nods, “and epileptic medicine, too actually. It’s shown to have a palliate effect on nerve-related pains if you take it every day. It worked wonders on me but gave me incredible dry mouth,” you can’t help but snort as he continues, “and I wasn’t about to have more dry-conditions on my face.”
Shinsou offers to write down the name for you as he reaches for the little notebook next to the coffee table. You hear Aizawa mutter something to Yamada, “oh yeah, I have to take that,” he laughs sheepishly and Aizawa gets up before him, muttering out an “I got it” with a hand to Yamada’s shoulder, going for his bag from the dresser out on the entrance.
As he sits back down, Shinsou hands Yamada his waterglass and Aizawa hands him two pills, “I’m sorry I had to interrupt like that, it’s just after I’ve changed prosthetics, my pain levels are on the rise as I get used to them.” Your eyes widen like saucers before you can school your expression, “I did hear you got severely injured three years ago but prosthetics?” you ask and he lifts up his leg and tugs on the pantleg, “I lost both my legs from the knee down. It was kept out of the media though,” he says as you try not to stare too hard at his prosthetics.
“You’re walking so smoothly on them though, I didn’t even see any hint of it!” you exclaim and he laughs, “yeah, I’ve put a lot of energy into rehabilitation, nothing can stop me from being a hero,” he says proudly and you nod in amazement as he tells you of how it happened and how he’s gotten this far.
              You’re on the couch, heaving out a sigh as Shinsou massages your calf on the left leg for you. “I forgot how amazing those two are,” you let out and Shinsou smiles, “they’re preserving that’s for sure,” he agrees as he follows Candle with his eyes. She’s scouting her territory, making sure that her nemesis, the human Aizawa Shouta, has left the premises. She’s getting ready to jump up on your wheelchair and get comfortable, once she determines that he’s gone.
“Oh wait, that’s how you knew your place was entirely wheelchair friendly!” you exclaim and he laughs, “bingo. Dad lived here for a while because their house definitely isn’t wheelchair friendly, being in three stories.”
You sit in silence for a while as you feel exhaustion settle in you – but also insecurity.
“I feel so… lazy, next to them,” you admit and Shinsou whips his head at you, “you’re not.”
You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself, “but they have… similar and maybe even worse conditions and look at them, they’re still Pro Heroes…”
Shinsou leans further up towards you, “hey, look at me.”
As you look at him, he gives you a determined look, “you should never compare yourself to others. Your struggles are entirely different and the path you’re meant to walk is different – and that’s okay.”
You sniffle, “okay… thank you, Hitoshi.”
He tenses, pauses for a moment and then clears his throat, “of course. I’ll always be here, and hey,” he grabs your hand, “you’re a lot stronger than you think.” He finishes off with a reassuring squeeze to your hand, and you give him a warm smile.       
  Shinsou’s lying on the couch, the apartment dark and quiet. It’s been a few hours since you went to bed and his mind has been too preoccupied to fall asleep. Really, how is he expected to, given your casual confession over the dinner table? You’d said it so casually then, like a passing thought – while you’d used the word “giant” about the crush. It didn’t add up, he thought, as he once again turned to lie on the other side – he’s also coming to terms with the thought that maybe you did have a crush on him back then – and not Bakugou. Usually, when he can’t sleep due to racing thoughts, Candle would help distract him as he practiced mindfulness on petting her. But the traitor is currently in his bed, next to you, probably purring to the ends of Hell and back.
Shinsou’s painfully in love with you. He thinks he’s been in love with you since you sat down by his lunch table for the first time, millimeters away from touching his hands but restraining yourself to respect a stranger’s sphere as you complimented his nail polish – though it took several months more before he became aware of his own feelings towards you.
But they’d never left him, even as he and Kaminari were going out. They’d both agreed that if you or Sero ever turned out to be interested, they’d leave each other in a heartbeat, because those were who they both were truly interested in, agreeing that their relationship was based on comfort and security – though Shinsou knows now that the love he has for Kaminari is another truth as well.
His heart is beating out of his chest and his smartwatch has on several occasions offered breathing exercises in case the elevated heartrate is based on a panic attack. Just as he’s about to angrily kick the weighted blanket off of him to get a glass of milk, he hears a few thuds and a yelp from his bedroom.
He rushes to check if you’re alright, turning on the lights on the way and finds you sprawled out on his floor, Candle looking curiously at you from the edge of the bed.
“What happened?” and you laugh, you have the audacity to laugh, from your position on the floor while Shinsou’s looking panicked above you, “I thought I could reach my phone charger without having to get up,” you sheepishly admit and point towards the charger connected to the outlet by the dresser – a distance no one could reach from the bed.
He goes over to help you up with a groan, grabbing the charger on the way to you. “What are you doing awake right now anyways?” he asks as he lets go of your arm now that you’re settled on the bed, you chuckle, “what are you doing awake right now?”
“Who says I wasn’t sleeping but got woken up from your fall?”
“Please, your reaction was way too quick for someone asleep, even for Pro Hero standards,” you say with a glint and he pouts, sitting down next to you, “couldn’t sleep.”
You let an arm slide over his back in a soothing pattern before shuffling around to show that you want to lie down. Shinsou’s about to leave the room and let you sleep when you grab his arm and tuts at him for trying to leave, “wanna cuddle?” and he’s embarrassed by how eager he suddenly seems to be to join you.
You settle into the bed comfortably, Shinsou hoping you won’t notice how fast his heart is beating as your back is glued to his chest with how close you’re cuddling. He has to actively fight the urge to put his leg over you, he realizes and inwardly groan at himself. A content sigh leaves you when you’re done settling and there’re a few minutes of silence until you clear your throat and look behind you to get eye contact, though it proves harder than you thought, given your positions, “was it really true that you had a crush on me in high school?”
Shinsou sucks in a breath but keeps looking at you, his hand tightening around your waist, “no,” he decides and you sigh. You’re about to turn back around when he opens his mouth again, the volume way too loud for the non-existent distance between you right now, “I didn’t have a crush… because I was… or rather, I am, in fact, in love with you.”
Shinsou’s heart is breaking his ribcage right now with how hard it’s beating, he’s sure of it. You’re currently frozen in place, staring up at the ceiling, not moving a muscle. He’s about to apologize when you open your mouth, a sound resembling a squawk leaving you before you wet your lips and try again, “you’re in love with me? Like, right now?”
Shinsou can’t help but let out a pained wheeze at your reaction, trying to pull away from you. You roughly grab onto his arm to stop him from rolling away, “no no no mister, don’t weasel your way out of this. You’re in love with me?”
He hides his face in your nape, sucking in a breath, “stop teasing me, oh my God,” and you chuckle, almost sounding panicked and definitely sounding strained, “I’m not making fun of you, I swear. I just, I’m processing.”
He wants to ask what the hell there is to process before you laugh again, moving slightly in his grip, “you have no idea how much I want to kiss your stupid face right now but…” you wiggle a bit to showcase your predicament, “I cannot move, both due to this stupid fucking leg and becau-“
You’re interrupted by Shinsou leaning in over and above you, his soft lips on yours – you let out a grunt in surprise and groan into the kiss as he pulls away, breathless. He looks absolutely smitten with you until worry graces his features, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks hurriedly, suddenly fearing you might just’ve disliked kissing him as he looks back at your broken leg without seeing anything amiss, supporting himself with a hand on your thigh.
“I ruined our first kiss,” you whine as you’re finally able to lie on your back instead of on your side. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine when he breathes in your scent so openly, “oh my God I ruined our first kiss,” you say again as realization hits you, “I’ve been fantasizing about that stupid kiss since I was like, a child, and I ruined it by oinking like a Goddamn pig!”
Shinsou’s shaking above you, hand clenching and unclenching back on your waist and it takes you a second to realize that he’s holding back from laughing – though he’s definitely doing a shit job at it, gently leaving pecks on your neck and shoulder with a big smile you’re sure is both very handsome and very rude, “want to redo it?”
You whine again, “you still want to kiss me? After I oinked into your lips?” you ask in utter disbelief, your eyebrows almost touching your hairline with how high up you’re sporting them. He laughs again, this time out loud as he lifts his head to look at you.
You’re caught off-guard by the absolute lovestruck expression he’s wearing as he’s looking down at you, the smile down-right goofy, successfully shutting you up.
“Uh,” you let out and he leans in for another kiss. You stop him with a hand to his lips, “if we’re redoing the kiss anyway, I want some lip palm. I don’t want you to think my lips are dry. Do you have a chapstick somewhere?”
You’re about to try and slip free from his grip to get up from the bed but this time it’s Shinsou who’s whining, a pretty and choked out “please” leaving his lips and you freeze on the spot.
When you turn your head to look back at him, he uses every ounce of strength and speed he’s acquired through Pro Hero work to successfully slot his lips against yours, and you instantly relax in his hold, your arms winding around his neck. He pulls away – but only millimeters – and when your eyes drowsily open to look at him, you’re surprised to find that his are still closed before he leans back in for another, whimpering into your mouth when you connect.
The warmth from him bleeds into you through the places where you’re connected and it nearly swallows you whole – kissing him was like drowning and flying all at once, you catch yourself thinking before pushing into him with more force, desperate to get used to the feeling of having him like this.
You pull away for air and this time his eyes are open – though barely – and he’s looking back at you with unadulterated adoration, “I think we need to buy canned coffee tomorrow.”
You giggle as your hand travels from his neck, through his hair and to his cheek, where your thumb traces a few gentle circles, “yeah? We need to celebrate?” and he leans in for another kiss, this one quicker, before giving you a lopsided smile and rests his head on your chest, “definitely.”
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i just want to take a quick second to thank you again for reading this, i hope it either resonated with you or gave you new insights <3333 this story means A LOT to me and it really means a lot that you took the time to read all 32k words! have a lovely day <333
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