#accept the radar range as your new god

[planforgoodcooking]

This is a section divider from the 1972 Amana Radar Range Cookbook.

"Suggested menu for the first day" -- they literally played this like you were leaving your old life behind and entering a new realm of convenient but bizarrely textured food and you'd love it because you could get it on the table so fast.

Forget everything you've ever known and enter The Microwave Era (read that as Tom Servo)

[tpwkay]

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different. 

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs. 

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms. 

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance. 

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting. 

/// 

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville. 

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry. 

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records. 

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened. 

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace. 

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots. 

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered. 

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?" 

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him. 

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek. 

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway. 

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway. 

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here. 

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself. 

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd. 

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album. 

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time. 

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events. 

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events. 

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance. 

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go." 

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it. 

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up. 

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban. 

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you. 

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night. 

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night. 

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology. 

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end. 

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman. 

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber. 

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again. 

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators. 

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night. 

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life. 

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours. 

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end. 

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert. 

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered. 

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

/// 

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence. 

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

/// 

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met. 

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing. 

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert. 

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily. 

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips. 

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up. 

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door. 

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish. 

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud." 

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it. 

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply. 

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips. 

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you. 

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back. 

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him. 

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?" 

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags. 

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into." 

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love." 

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around. 

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver. 

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior. 

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off. 

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed. 

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss. 

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."  

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait. 

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again. 

/// 

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails. 

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that." 

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance. 

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours. 

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name. 

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers. 

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?" 

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel. 

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?" 

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you. 

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers. 

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases. 

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile. 

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds. 

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you". 

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch. 

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave. 

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording. 

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November. 

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. 

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you. 

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it." 

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words. 

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung. 

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country. 

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again. 

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing. 

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop. 

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock. 

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry. 

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. 

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you. 

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release. 

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps. 

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there. 

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release. 

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need. 

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd. 

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it." 

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget. 

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats. 

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him. 

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance. 

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself. 

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte​ who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

[auncyen]

So a long time ago I wrote a start of a fic where Ryuji gets knocked out from Shido's explosion and is thrown back into the real world, unconscious. Ren brings him to Takemi's clinic and then answers Ryuji's phone when he realizes Mama Sakamoto is calling, attempting to make some kind of cover story for Ryuji not coming home or answering his phone before it becomes apparent she ID'd Ryuji from the video calling card. She's coming over to the clinic, and she wants answers.

AND THAT'S WHERE IT STALLED FOREVER. If anyone would like to take a look at what I have of part 2, where she gets to the clinic:

Ren was in the middle of sending an update to the group chat when the door to the clinic opened. The woman who walked in was short and dark-haired, and Ren had the split-second impulse to ask her if she had a real emergency--god knew he didn't want anything drawing Takemi's attention away from Ryuji right now--before her eyes landed on him with a look of such contempt that Caroline might have asked for tips.

The text for the group chat was forgotten. It would have only been to report that there was nothing to report yet. "Sakamoto-san?" he hazarded, his voice wavering.

"Where," she said flatly, "is my son."

He didn't know why it should have thrown him off so much that her hair wasn't bleached blond--of course it wasn't. But even besides that, she really didn't look like Ryuji at all. Short, somewhat stout, with a wider nose and other differences in the face...when it came to looks, Ryuji must have taken after his father's side.

Ren immediately knew he'd rather eat one of his daggers than say that to either mother or son.

"Sakamoto-san," Takemi said, emerging from the back. "Your son is in here. He suffered a concussion and Amamiya-kun brought him to me for examination." Her tone was a bit more polite than her usual, if still casual, and Ren appreciated that maybe she was trying to pull his fat from the fire.

"I want an explanation for all of this," Sakamoto-san said angrily. "...But I want to see him, first."

Ah. Now Ren saw the family resemblance, both in her expression and her protectiveness.

Takemi nodded, opening the door for Sakamoto-san to go in. Ren started to rise from his seat, wanting to see Ryuji himself, but a flat look from the doctor stopped him cold. She didn't want him following.

Logically, he knew Takemi was simply keeping things orderly and controlled. Ryuji's mother was upset, and Takemi knew she was mad at him already. Better to keep him out of the room if Sakamoto-san might take any of Takemi's news badly.

But the feeling that stirred in his gut was blame and guilt, making him cover his face with his hands after the door had closed. He felt sick.

He couldn't deny his responsibility. It had been his idea to stall in the safe room instead of immediately stealing Shido's treasure after Futaba broadcasted the calling card. If stalling had been the deciding factor in Shido being able to manipulate his own cognition and cause the violent collapse... Then it was completely his fault.

He shouldn't even care about what Ryuji's mother thought of him, anyway. That could wait until after Ryuji had woken up. But the cold way she'd looked at him hurt, pathetically enough. He'd really hoped that she would like him. Mostly because Ryuji was afraid she'd be upset when he came out to her--she'd asked a couple of times about him getting a girlfriend. Ren was hopeful, considering she'd supported her son through thick, thin, and hair bleach, and might only be asking about girlfriends because Ryuji was way more vocal about his interest in cute girls than cute guys, but he understood Ryuji's fear. There was always the chance that it would be the one thing too far. So he'd wanted to make a good impression on her when they met, hoping it'd help her accept it better whenever Ryuji was ready to come out.

But Ren had also just...selfishly wanted Ryuji's mother to like him. He'd wanted to make a good impression on her because Ryuji always lit up when he talked about her, and she sounded like a great mom, and Ren wanted someone like that to look at him and think that he could be a decent match for her son. That he was a good kid.

Well. He'd fucked that up already. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes, forcing a deep breath as he tried to press the tears back. This wasn't the time for being weak and selfish. He had to worry about Ryuji waking up first. Then he could worry about making sure Ryuji wasn't grounded forever, and that he wasn't strangled for endangering Ryuji.

Except that still left him with nothing he could do for the time being.

He felt so useless. He wished he could have taken Ryuji to Shibuya station. If he could have just gotten him to the entrance of Mementos with Morgana, the two of them might have been able to heal Ryuji. But they hadn't been sure if cognitive healing would help when someone was plain knocked out cold in the real world; bringing him to the clinic had seemed the safer bet. But now...

Ren groaned. First he'd left Akechi behind a solid wall of metal on a ship that was now sunk. And now, Ryuji...

Takemi was speaking to Ryuji's mother in the room at length, and Ren rested his head against the wall, hoping to hear through it. Good news? Bad news? He could only hear her tone, calm and level. Takemi wasn't the type to sugarcoat, but she still highlighted better outcomes when they were possibilities to her patients. She'd said once that people often had improved outcomes if they were given attentive care and thought they should get better. She called it a placebo effect. Morgana called it the power of cognition.

But since Ryuji wasn't conscious, he didn't know he was being treated by one of the best doctors in Tokyo. That he should get better and just please wake up.

Ryuji's mother didn't seem any happier when Takemi opened the door for her to step back out into the waiting room. Ren felt his whole body stiffen when Takemi closed the door again, half-expecting to be screamed at, but Ryuji's mother just stared him down. When she spoke, her voice was tightly controlled. "So you're the leader of the Phantom Thieves. What must your parents think?"

"My parents?" he echoed.

She laughed, but it sounded more disbelieving than genuine. "You think they don't know? I recognized Ryuji plain as day under that weird skull-mask. Yours shows even more of your face. Do they actually approve of all this?"

That was a question he hadn't even considered recently, and he weighed what honest answer he could give her that didn't sound self-pitying. No, he didn't think they knew at all. They didn't have reason to look at the calling card too closely. Didn't have any suspicions about his after school activities, or any clue that he wasn't even in school for the time being. Ryuji's phone had several voicemails from his mother tonight alone. Ren's phone hadn't rang once tonight, and it had been a while since he had gotten a message from either his father or mother.

He was taking too long to answer; something in Sakamoto's expression shifted. "I don't have their approval," he said quickly, before she could get further upset. "I act for my own sense of justice."

"An' you dragged Ryuji right along into it," Sakamoto said.

That wasn't quite accurate, but Ren nodded anyway. "...Yes." It had a grain of truth to it: Igor had given the app to him. Ryuji would never have been thrown into the metaverse if he hadn't run into Ren. And it would be better to just get this over with. Take her anger and her blame. It was his fault she was upset.

Ryuji's mother took a long, deep breath. "What happened?"

"It's...hard to explain."

"Sure, you steal hearts and desires and whatnot. I still want an explanation," she pressed.

...He had no idea if she'd be patient enough for an explanation of the Metaverse. He'd bet on not. So he described the situation in broad strokes: "The group was in trouble. Ryuji took a risk to get us out safe. And he pulled it off. We could have all ended up dead if it wasn't for him." Futaba didn't know how to swim. Even for the rest of them, the waters had been turbulent enough that Ren didn't think their odds would have been good, not when they'd also had to navigate to their entrance point in the dark of night, already exhausted from a grueling fight. Perhaps some of them would have made it out...he doubted it would have been all of them. "But he got hurt. I'm--I'm sorry. It's my fault we were in that position."

"Why?"

"I...made the group wait before we changed Shido's heart. I was hoping..." Ren's voice shook, and the rest of the words failed to come.

He'd been hoping Akechi would show up. If Akechi had been alive, no matter if he was hiding somewhere in the Palace or trying to stay under the radar in Tokyo, as soon as they'd took over the airwaves with their calling card and set the Palace's security to high alert, Akechi would know. He would know they were taking Shido's heart. He would know that they would be in the Palace.

He could have joined them. So Ren had asked everyone to wait for an hour in one safe room as he warped between all of them and entrance, checking to see if Akechi would manage to drag himself in. Ann and Ryuji had both volunteered to help, and he'd been grateful, but he figured it was better if everyone else stayed together so they weren't split up between several different locations. When he hadn't spotted Akechi in the hour, he'd come back to the group and asked Futaba if she could do a scan for him--a last-ditch request, since she had every right to refuse to help.

Futaba had looked absolutely miserable. She'd already tried multiple scans. There was nothing. Ren had made everyone wait for nothing. He should have known it was too much to hope after Akechi had closed himself off behind the door. He'd only given Shido more time to counter.

"We were missing one," Ren said finally. Maybe Akechi would have objected to being counted as one of the group, but it was the simplest way to explain now. And he...wasn't going to object, anyway. "I made the group wait, but they never showed."

"They in some kind of trouble?"

The question surprised him a little, but this wasn't a subject he wanted to dwell on any longer. "Nothing I can help with," Ren said.

-and that's it so far.

And I'm just kind of......unsure where to go from there. Which makes me wonder if I should have started the dialogue differently or change something else earlier or...what.

[redemptioninterlude]

Z, you ask and i can only honour the words of someone as amazingly talented as yourself! the pure depth you go into for every single one of your muses and the range of universes you manage to fit them all in is absolutely stunning, you've truly made all of your muses pretty much your own ocs with the amount of wordbuilding, dynamic exploring and every single thread youve chosen to write with them all. i haven't expressed it yet, but you roleplay in one fandom that i used to back on facebook like three years ago and just to see that someone else is continuing to treat those characters with the same love all these years later honestly makes me so, so happy. you're not afraid to put your muses in positions where others might find them comfortable, and to me that truly makes your writing more powerful. nothing ever seems to happen without reason, and your storytelling of such narratives flow through with every single piece you write for them!

you ooc are always a gem to talk to and i am so, so honoured to have met you this year!! we always have so much laughs and thank you so so much for introducing me to obey me, where im sure this year i will fall even further into such a new fandom and explore all these fun new characters on my radar. i am wishing you and your new job the best for 2022, and hoping that cold is dying down with every single message i write back to you!

2021 sentiments ( always accepting ) + @dangaer

ok ok ok ok. first of all i was gonna save this to answer a little bit because reading this gave me such a kjnargjknkarg pick me up to my fragile little heart. like. omg. jupiter. jupiter. you’re seriously such a little darling songbird and i appreciated this message so god damned much!!! i mean just like you, i’m over here fangirling every time i get a reply from you and i love your enthusiasm and your adoration for your muses that you have, and just i’m so so so excited to keep roleplaying with you and seeing what weird, angsty, lovely things we come up with together because i’m seriously loving it so much. and of course i’m so so excited to see how you take to obey me!!! catch me dying with curiosity to see who your favourite brother or member of the devildom ends up being your fave 👀 but more importantly, here’s to 2022, and here’s to hoping we have a fruitful and full year together writing awesome, heart wrenching things together. cheers, mate! i seriously think you’re fucking incredible.

[monicawoe]

spn fic masterlist

(updated 5/29/21)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Between Hell and the Hunt - Dean's deal is due, but Sam has found a way to save him. He's made a deal with someone else - someone Lilith can't touch. (2k words, Wild Hunt season 3 AU)

Closer Than You Think - Five times Sam’s eyes were demonic, and one time they weren’t. (3k words, boyKingSam AUs of multiple eps)

Behold the Beast, Behold the Lamb - Season 4 AU.  Sam tried to free Dean from Hell, but angels intervened and took Dean for their own purposes. Sam is determined to get Dean back and will do whatever it takes, embracing his abilities fully. The more demon blood Sam drinks, the more demons he kills, the more he changes inside and out until it’s impossible to hide his monstrous side. Ruby, Uriel and Castiel push Sam to fulfill his destiny and become his true self—the Beast of the Revelation. (gen, Sam/Ruby, 20k words; featuring art by @quickreaver​)

Prayers Answered - written for the boy king Sam discord server prompt: Sam has grown up in a very religious environment. He's devoted, he goes to church, he prays. He knows that God is with him, because he listens to his prayers. But as Sam grows older, he realizes it's not God that's been listening. And he realizes that he's not asking - he's been ordering, and his loyal servants would never deny their King. (2k words; gen)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver​ for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

On His Head a Crown - written for the 2019-2020 SWBB, art by @slytherkins​ Hunters drug Sam, force-feed him demon blood, and bring him to where they’ve captured Brady. Brady tells Sam he knows how to stop the Apocalypse, and Sam, despite his better judgment, hears him out: Sam himself is the horsemen Conquest—aka the Antichrist—and he alone can bring Lucifer’s apocalypse to a grinding halt. Sam resists, but when he discovers the good he can do with his new powers, he decides to use them to atone for all his past mistakes.   (21k, Sam/Brady, gen, AU of 5x03-5x04)

Many more under the cut

Best Self - written for @alyndra9​​  for the prompt: King of Hell Sam meets Kale!Sam and they have many differences of opinion to work out. (aka the only one who knows what Sam really wants is Sam.) words by monicawoe banner by @quickreaver​​! (~4k words, Sam/Sam)

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver​ for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

Tear You Apart - written for @wetsammywinchester​ who wanted Soulless!Sam/Brady & Soulless!Sam taking on the mantle of King of Hell:  Sam doesn’t want his soul back. He resurrects Brady who helps him figure out a way to outsmart Death: by damaging his soul so it can’t be reintegrated. With Brady’s help, Sam reclaims his power, and takes his soul apart one piece at a time. (8k words; Soulless!Sam/Brady)

Hellbound - Sam is in Hell, and then he isn't. He's standing on a sidewalk with a stranger looking back at him—a stranger that has his face. My 2020 spn-summergen fic! Featuring soulless!Sam, disembodied soul-Sam and amnesiac Dean. (gen, 8k)

Lakeside Fishing - written for @denugis​ - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (4k words; Sam/Patrick; set after My Bloody Valentine; witch!Sam)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean​​ - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.    After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver​ -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Make Angels of Us All - art by @amberdreams1960​  - Sam has a guardian angel. It’s been with him his whole life, trying to keep him safe. The angel gives Sam power he can’t control: power to move things with his mind, power over fire, and wings that nobody else can see—bony and jagged with scaly feathers. Dean says monsters aren't real, but Dad thinks they are. Sam's power scares him, and he’s not always sure what's real, but what he does know is people keep trying to kill the three of them, and he won't let that happen. (~20K, gen)

Burdens, Doublefold - cowritten with @quickreaver​, art by ileliberte What if Dean left Sam at Stanford after the fire, hoping it would keep his little brother safe and make things better? Somehow, 'better' never seems to be in the Winchester Family cards. Sam gets tangled up with his ex-roommate Brady, tracking psychics, but dealing with demons is never honest business. Dean carries on until his father is put in grave danger. He is left on his own to deal, stumbling into Harvelle's Roadhouse for help, where Dean gets just a little more than he bargained for. Eventually, the brothers’ paths twist and turn their way back to each other, but the results could mean the End of Days. (67k, gen, AU of seasons 1-2)

Before the One You Serve When Dean comes to get Sam at Stanford, he finds him living with Brady. And Dean doesn't trust Brady, even though he can't quite put his finger on why. Not at first. (5k, Sam/Brady)

He Who Fights Monsters - cowritten with nwspaprtaxis, art by @quickreaver​ AU of the summer between Seasons 3 and 4. Dean's dead, dragged down kicking and screaming to Hell. Sam's not dealing well. And Ruby’s got her work cut out for her. (52K, Sam/Ruby)

John Winchester is Dead They say those Winchester boys're crazy. Drive around in a big black beast and drink too much and laugh about mean things. They say their daddy's worse, but you never see him. He's just a voice on the other end of the phone or a darker shape in the back seat of their dark car. They say John Winchester died two years ago. (2k, gen, horror)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - featuring art by @quickreaver​ When Sam opened Lucifer’s Cage, the only thing he found inside was Lucifer’s grace – his grace. With the return of his grace, Sam remembered his past – his war against the Host, his Fall, and his plans to bring about the End. The thing is…he doesn’t want the Apocalypse anymore. He likes things the way they are, and tries everything to keep his identity a secret- especially from Dean. Of course, the four Horsemen, Hell and Heaven have other ideas. (13K, gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver​ The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver​ Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Pattern Recognition: A Hannibal/Supernatural fusion AU  -  Sam and Dean split after River Pass, and their confrontation with the Horseman, War. Since Will’s escape from the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane, he and Sam have been in hiding. They have a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, that keeps them off the radar; they find comfort in each other. But they can’t stay off the chessboard forever, especially not when Lucifer, wearing Hannibal Lecter as a vessel, is tearing the world apart around them. (33k, Sam Winchester/Will Graham)

Impala's Run - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by adrenalineshots Sam and Dean Singer (aka Winchester) aren’t your average young Kansas farmers. Their home is very, very far from Kansas, in fact. Many light-years worth of ‘far’. The boys may look human, but certain talents set them apart: Dean speaks the language of machines, and Sam can heal through manipulating energy. Hidden on Earth by their father, their agricultural lifestyle gets rocked when warring alien races discover where they’ve landed, and Sam and Dean are forced to make the run of their lives. (23k, gen)

All Our Wrath and Cutting Beauty - art by @quickreaver - Sam killed Alistair, but not before Alistair reminded Dean of who and what he’d become in Hell. Dean knows Sam can take down Lilith, and he’ll make damn sure Sam gets strong enough to do just that. They’ll stop the Apocalypse – together, no matter how many bodies stack up, or how much blood is spilt.(11k, horror) 

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 13

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~2,600

Warnings: None

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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Read on AO3   Masterlist

Lilah swung the shopping bag in one hand, the other shoving the keys into her pocket. She’d ended out keeping the SUV Brasa had lent her the week previous, claiming that she liked the ‘rental’ so much that she’d made an offer to buy it outright. It was a believable lie, Lilah had a habit of picking up and dropping off cars on a whim. Easier to keep under the radar when no one knew what make and model she drove.

The air conditioning in the bar hit her hard, goosebumps rising along her arms. It was nearly empty, as it usually was mid-afternoon. Too late for the morning crowd to stay, too early for the night crowd to meander in. The room smelled vaguely of liquor and the sun streaming in through the windows cast unfamiliar shadows over the floor.

She noticed that Kate was sitting at the bar, nursing a soda. For once, Richie was nowhere to be seen. Lilah sidled on up to her, dropped the bag on the floor as she took a seat, and signaled to bartender.

“Bourbon and coke.”

Kate smiled at her, “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

This was said with a smile that could potentially be described as sly. Lilah, like Seth, didn’t exactly adhere to a strict schedule when it came to alcohol. Too many nights that turned into days that turned into diving into a bottle to forget.

“It’ll be five o’ clock in...three hours,” Lilah quipped as she took the glass from the bartender, “Close enough.”

Lilah sat with her drink for a while, enjoying the fact that there was little to no activity going on in the bar. Aside from Kate and the bartender, the room was pretty much empty. She realized that she had spent almost all of her awake hours the last few days either catching up on what had happened while she was gone or in some kind of meeting.

Seth had taken a more active role in managing the staff, and he consulted with Lilah daily about one thing or another—usually some sort of internal conflict. She’d taken to writing down some basic policies and procedures for him to reference so that he wasn’t knocking on her door in the middle of the night with questions. Despite having just come back from a three month vacation, Lilah still needed to sleep.

A question floated across that train of thought, “What’s Richie been up to?”

Kate gave a little shrug, “The usual, trying to maintain some sort of order with our nocturnal friends.”

“Oh?”

Nodding, Kate added, “Its not just Brasa’s people that are struggling to adjust. We’ve had some kickback here, too.”

To give herself a moment to think, Lilah took a slow pull from her glass, “And how is that going?”

“Well,” her voice had a soft tone of uncertainty, “They aren’t super happy that we’ve done some population control. Kind of kills the mood when we’re trying to get them to buy in to the new way of doing things.”

“I can imagine.”

Given what Lilah had seen in the cave not a few days before, she had a good idea of what Seth and Richie were facing on the other side of the fence. They offered work and beds to those who could staff the bar, but didn’t have the organization or power that Brasa seemed to have. It was lucky that Richie had such a mind that he could predict attacks with an uncanny accuracy. Otherwise, or both brothers would be dead by now.

Rolling her neck, Kate offered, “But, there are a surprising number that want to assimilate—they miss their old lives, you know?”

Lilah did know. There was still a part of her, slowly dwindling, that wanted to go back to the night she met Seth and tell him to fuck off. Everything would have been a whole lot simpler now, if she had. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have met Brasa. He’d become so critically ingrained in her everyday life that the thought of him not being there felt too strange to contemplate.

“Are you gonna talk about it now?” Kate asked without provocation. She had pushed her soda away and was fixing Lilah with a narrowed look.

Lilah blinked, “What?”

With a sigh borne out of frustration, Kate turned on her stool and faced Lilah head on, “The bond. Are you going to talk about it?”

Stunned, Lilah felt her jaw unhinge as she stared at Kate in shock. She went over her recent memories to double check that she hadn’t given it away. Lilah had kept it hidden, she was sure of it.

Kate laughed, a high, clear sound that made Lilah flinch, “Richie told me about it months ago. You can’t hide that kind of thing from other culebras. Its supposed to be obvious, for safety’s sake. Keeps them from crossing boundaries accidentally.”

Lilah continued to stare, her chest tightening as she slowly began to panic. She’d ask Brasa about how it was ‘obvious’ later, when her mind had stopped spinning. For now, she had no lie to put things to right again.

Kate noted her stricken expression and laid a gentle hand on her arm, “Its okay. I won’t tell. I just thought you might need someone to talk to. I know I did.”

Dear holy fuck, but Lilah really needed someone to talk to. All of these months and months of keeping her mouth shut had built up in a way that took an immense effort to subsume.

After another moment’s pause, Lilah blurted, “I don’t know how to handle it. Its everywhere, all the time. And… the worst part is that I don’t care. I’m still struggling to accept it, but I want to keep it.”

The dichotomy of being both ashamed and deeply satisfied by her relationship with Brasa was the thing that kept her chest tight, her shoulders hunched. It sat next to her as she tried to sleep at night. It needled her in the quiet moments between tasks. Lilah rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Kate’s smile was serene, “That’s good, because if Richie’s anything to go by, Brasa wouldn’t allow you to break the bond, even if you wanted to. He’d die to keep it intact.”

Lilah’s brows came together, “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. He’d do anything to keep you with him. He kind of has to, anyways.”

“What does that mean?”

Kate lifted her hand to signal the bartender, “Two of what she’s having.” Then, she turned back to Lilah, “Listen, I don’t know if its matches up exactly with how my bond with Richie is, but Brasa is the one bonded to you, not the other way around.”

Lilah looked at her blank faced. The book had definitely not put it that way. Brasa had said he was the elder, he had said that he would be expected to lead.

The bartender brought their drinks and Kate fiddled with the little straw, stirring the ice around, “You’re weaker than he is.”

Lilah sneered, “Is it that obvious?”

Kate rolled her eyes, pushing Lilah’s glass at her, “Its always the strong party’s responsibility to protect and serve the weaker. Evens the playing field when—is it fate? Whenever whatever that decides these things steps in.”

“I don’t get it,” Lilah said blandly.

Honestly, she was getting tired of feeling confused. All these shifting realities were difficult enough to track and follow. She didn’t need to feel stupid on top of it.

Giving another little shrug, Kate took their drinks from the bartender, setting one in front of Lilah, “He’s like a billion years old and a literal demigod. The bond would weaken him long term, if he didn’t build you up, if he didn’t lend you some of his power.”

This rang of familiarity, and it made Lilah’s skin tighten with awareness of how she had never put two and two together. Still, the pieces weren’t locking into place cleanly enough for her to feel like she was on steady ground.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Swirling the amber liquid in her glass, Kate fixed her with a coy smile, “It means that a large part of his life will be spent listening to and anticipating your needs. In return, your blood will make him stronger than he ever was, or ever could be without it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Welcome to supernatural mating practices,” Kate deadpanned. “None of it really makes any sense.”

Lilah turned the whole thing around in her mind, “So, he has to do what I say?”

“He is inclined to do as you ask, but your safety and protection is his priority, above all.”

There was something in the statement that didn’t sit well with Lilah. She was used to commanding some sense of obedience during jobs, but this was far more intimate. It felt wrong to know that she could just...ask for something, and he would do it without question.

“But,” Lilah continued, “I don’t want to order him around.”

Kate set her glass down, “I don’t doubt it. I’ve had to learn to watch my words around Richie. If I even look at something in store for more than five seconds, It’ll be waiting for me when we get home.”

Lilah thought about it. Brasa hadn’t bought her anything, that she could tell, but he had given in to her will on numerous occasions. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Have you had the dreams yet?”

Lilah snapped back to attention, “Dreams?”

“Yeah,” Kate prompted, her expression taking on a little excitement, “Where you’re sharing them?”

“Uh,” Lilah drawled, embarrassed, “A little.”

Kate nodded sagely, “If the bond is stressed, you’ll have more of them.”

“Why?”

“No idea,” Kate said as she fiddled with her glass.

There was a long silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. Lilah considered how far she’d come in her bond with Brasa, and how far she still needed to go. There were so many unknowns, and she feared that her reticence would eventually lead to him leaving her. And yet...Kate had said that he couldn’t—that would lead to worse things. Lilah could handle rejection, but eternal resentment was not something she was prepared to deal with.

“What’s he like?”

Lilah looked up at the question, her brows rising, “Who?”

Kate shot her a knowing look, “Brasa.”

Lilah considered the question, her breath flowing out of her lungs in a soft sigh, “He’s accommodating.”

“And?”

Lilah felt another little wave of embarrassment well up. She wasn’t used to disclosing this kind of information, and the thought of gushing to a girlfriend about a lover made her cringe. Still, this was likely the only person in the world who could really understand what she was going through, who could put things into perspective and help her make good decisions.

“He’s...smart. So smart. Every time we talk about the business, I feel like I’m taking a master class. And, he really listens to me, wants to know my opinion on things.”

“And?”

She thought further, “He’s attractive. Sometimes I look at him and I just…”

As she trailed off, Kate nudged her, “Have you had sex yet?”

“No,” Lilah admitted, “Although we’ve made out a few times—fuck, that makes me sound like a teenager.”

Kate chuckled, lifting her glass to her mouth, “That’s what I felt like, too. Although, I was actually, like, seventeen when Richie and I met.”

This was a story that Lilah had been waiting to hear. The two of them were so diametrically opposed in personality that the match seemed unlikely. She had asked Richie just the one time about how they got together, before Kate had been rescued from Amaru. His only answer was that he ‘kidnapped her.’

“Yeah?” Lilah prodded lightly.

“Yep,” she sat the glass down, “I don’t think either of us knew what was going on. Not until much later.”

“When did you finally figure it out?”

Kate pushed her dark hair from her face, her gaze contemplative, “After Amaru—in Xibalba, actually. We had a little time to talk when we were traveling between worlds. Richie had learned a lot while we were separated.” She paused, a smile forming on her lips, “He had to do a lot of convincing, but what Amaru knew, I knew. And, she knew about bonding. Even though I put it off for a bit, I knew eventually I would have to come to terms with it.”

Lilah felt the question she wanted to ask rise, and she almost tamped it down, but her lesser instincts kicked in, “Do you regret it?”

Kate shook her head, “Richie can be a real asshole, but he loves me. And all the other things that he is, all the things that make up our relationship, they satisfy me in ways I can’t describe.”

And that was exactly how Lilah felt, when she took the time to examine the bond more closely. All the restlessness of her life settled into a soothing, temperate pace when she was with him. Her eager ideas gained focus and precision, her impulsivity checked.

“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Lilah said as she slumped in her chair.

Kate gave her sympathetic look, “I was trying to help you unload a bit of what you’ve been carrying around.”

To be fair, Lilah did feel lighter. There was still the issue of dealing with Seth and his temper when he found out, but she found that she liked having a secret ally in all of this. It lent her a small bit of safety that she appreciated.

Lilah glanced at her, “Does anyone else know?”

Shaking her head, Kate put her finger to her lips, “Its our secret, for now. But, it’ll come out eventually. Like I said, you can’t hide this kind of thing for long.”

“I know,” Lilah admitted, “Brasa is willing to keep this under wraps for the moment, but I can tell he’s frustrated by it.”

Kate watched her absorb that for a moment, then added, “Pro tip: Sleep with him.”

Lilah said her name in almost a yelp, shocked by the directive.

“I’m not kidding,” Kate said on a laugh, “Sex and blood are cornerstones of their relationships. They’re what bind them together, like it or not. Give him those things, and he’ll settle down enough so that you can figure this out.”

Lilah thought about it, then said the thing that had kept her hiding this secret for longer than she would like, “Seth is going to hate me.”

Kate acknowledged the statement with a salute of her drink, “He might not like it. He might mope around for a few months—hell, he might take off entirely. But, he’ll be back. He just has to have his tantrum first.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“How?”

Kate lifted a shoulder, “He did the same thing with Richie when he was turned. Ran off for a bit. He’ll come around. Once he realizes that being a big baby about it means that you won’t be in his life anymore.” She paused a second, then, “We’re a family, you know? All of us. And, the most important thing to Seth is family.”

“You think so?” Lilah echoed.

Kate smiled warmly, “I know so.”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: How Do You Like It? {Headcanon/One-Shot}*

Chris Evans

Warning: Cursing, Lewd Topic, Conversation NSFW, Lewd Humor

Words: 2.2k

Note: Okay, so yet again I came up with something just by looking at these two gifs/images of Chris. Yet again, I have NO IDEA what this is, where this came from or what’s wrong with me. Rock with me though. Thank you for reading.

***Not Edited/Proofread**

~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d done a lot of interviews in his career. So many they all blended together. They asked the same questions, insinuated to the same things, told the same jokes. He could go through a regular run of the mill interview with his eyes closed and half drunk and still ace it. he was going nuts with the mundaneness of it all. He wanted to shake it up but of course, he had his image to think about. He always had his image to think about, which is why his interviews had been blander than what he’d imagined potato salad with raisins would taste like.

 He was tired of boring interviews and wanted to just go off the beaten path, just once. So, when he got wind that his team got an offer from a podcast called “The Thirsty Hour” to appear his interest was piqued. It took his team no longer than a minute to decline the offer. He’s expected that. The next day he turned right around and accepted the offer and had them go through Scott to finalize the arrangement.

 When he showed up three nights later to the address, he’d been given he did so with Scott and his partner in tow. The location was a hair salon that had a basement that the owners of the salon and founders of the podcast; Shaundra and Aleesha had set up impressively well. It looked like a professional start-up radio station. 

The duo thanked him for appearing and shook his hand over ten times with bright smiles plastered across their faces. He could tell their excitement and he was also excited to be there. It was sad this was how he got his kicks, sneaking off behind his team’s back to do interviews off the beaten path.

 He was offered a drink while they went over the schedule and possible content. Business discussions turned to small talk and a whole lot of laughs and that turned to three beers before Shaundra and Aleesha began the show. He sat back and watched the dynamic duo in their element. He liked the way they fed off each other and knew he was going to have a good time.

 Shaundra: Thanks again everyone for tuning in to our little podcast. It’s hard to believe that this is our two hundredth episode. It totally doesn’t feel like it.

Aleesha You’re right. It definitely doesn’t feel like it at all. We’ve been lucky that this has taken off the way that it has especially given how this is not a morning commute type of podcast.

Shaundra: Damn right, we’re the cousin of the morning commute podcast that many are ashamed of because they wouldn’t know where to begin when it comes to the things we talk about.

Aleesha: What kinds of things are those?

Saundra: The sex kinds. Sex positions, Kama Sutra, blow jobs, backshots, ways to spice up the marriage, how to give a proper striptease.

 Chris’ eyebrows shot up as he was mid sip of his glass of brown liquor. The immediate thought in his head was this was going to get interesting.

 Aleesha: And that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Shaundra: Tip of the dick print you mean.

 Chris couldn’t help it but snort loudly. He held up his finger as an apology for his outburst but neither Shaundra nor Aleesha seemed to mind. They just smiled and shook their heads as if to tell him not to worry about it.

 Aleesha: Speaking of dick print. I have no idea how we pulled this off, but we actually got confirmation that we’re doing things real BIG for our two hundredth episode. We have a special guest tonight, none other than Chris Evans.

 Fake applause sounds on a track and Chris takes up the headphones and puts them on.

 Shaundra: Welcome to the show Chris.

 Chris: Thank you for having me. I appreciate the thought.

Aleesha: This is your first time on the show. Have you listened before?

Chris: I’m embarrassed to say that I haven’t. I don’t get much time to myself and it leaves little time to find new things or enjoy things on my own.

Shaundra: I understand that. We’re glad you were able to come through though. You look very low key like you intended to fly under the radar tonight in your t-shirt, hat, and jeans. Also, are those the new Nike’s?

 He smiles and begins to blush.

 Chris: I’m a bit of a sneakerhead. It’s a thing for me.

 The ladies nod and look impressed.

 Shaundra: You’re sure you’re not a black man parading around as a white man?

Chris: Sort of a like a reverse Rachel Dolezal?

 The applause track plays again but is accompanied by Shaundra and Aleesha’s “ohs” and “wows”.

 Shaundra: Shots fired.

He laughs and shrugs as he takes another snip of his drink thinking this isn’t so bad and had no idea why his team shot it down.

 Aleesha: Speaking of black men. Chris, have you ever dated a sista?

Chris: Sista?

Shaundra: Sista, she mean--.

Chris: No, I know what a sista is.

 Shaundra and Aleesha eye each other in a way that speaks volumes.

 Chris: Officially no, I haven’t.

Aleesha: What’s unofficially?

Chris: I’ve flirted with, spoken with for a few days but nothing ever came of it.

Shaundra: Would you ever date a sista, a black woman?

Chris: I would. Why not? I look at more important things than skin color.

Aleesha: Like what?

Chris: Like, connection, conversation, sense of humor, interests, stuff like that.

Shaundra: I noticed you kept looks off that list. Do you not look at a woman’s looks?

Chris: The politically correct answer would be; looks don’t matter but in today’s world looks are everything.

Shaundra: Are looks everything to Chris Evans?

Chris: Nah. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Aleesha: So, do you have a type?

Chris: Nope.

 Shaundra and Aleesha laugh together.

 Shaundra: What catches your eye then? Nice eyes, plump lips, big boobs, small waist, wide hips, big ass? What makes Chris Evans look like the man in those memes who’s walking with his girlfriend but is looking back at a new, fresher piece of ass?

 He laughs again and thinks about the question for a few moments. He takes another swig of the liquor and leans closer to the table.

 Chris: Uh, I don’t know.

 He was still feeling censored from his many, many years of doing just that.

 Aleesha: Come on. Are you an ass man or a boobs man?

Chris: God, this is going to be everywhere tomorrow. The headline is going to say Chris Evans reveals he’s an ass man.

 The ladies laugh again and clap.

 Shaundra: Ah, so you’re an ass man.

Aleesha: Then you have to find yourself a sista. We’ve got great asses. Do you like them firm with no jiggle or round, plump with some jiggle?

Chris: Definitely some jiggle, something I can hold on to when I’m back there.

 Shaundra’s and Aleesha’s drop open. He’d just disclosed that he likes doggy style.

 Aleesha: So, Chris Evans is an ass man who likes backshots, which is the better term for doggy style? Did I just hear right?

 His smile was wide, but he didn’t confirm or deny what she said. That action was a clear confirmation to them though.

 Shaundra: Well alright then. I would have never guessed.

Aleesha: I would have. You give off this air of—confidence, it’s a confidence similar to what black men give off. I can’t explain it but there is something about you that is intriguing. I would have guessed.

 He smiles and tips his head in a curt nod.

 Shaundra: The last guest we had on the show, we asked about how he likes his head. He gave an idea of how he preferred it.

Aleesha: He gave up a play by play walkthrough.

Chris: Sounds informative. You do know that what works for one man doesn’t necessarily work for all right.

Shaundra: So, I’ve learned. Y’all are pickier than women.

Chris: Lies. What works for one woman definitely doesn’t work for all. If that’s the case I could just suck on a clit and boom off to space.

 Again, Shaundra and Aleesha’s jaws dropped. He looked across to his brother who looked equally as shocked before he shook his head. It was at that time Chris realized he’d probably had enough to drink.

 Aleesha: So that doesn’t work for every woman you’ve been with?

 He laughs and shakes his head.

 Shaundra: Oh, come on, closed mouths don’t get fed.

Chris: Loose lips sink ships or careers.

Aleesha: The ideals of a good career change over time. Live a little.

 He laughed again but decided to just live a little and deal with it later.

 Shaundra: So. Chris Evans eats the box?

Chris: How can any man be okay with not knowing how to please their woman or not wanting to do it to perfection. I am not above any of it. All of my fingering is accurate.

 Laughter rang out in the small room.

 Aleesha: He eats the box and is an accurate fingerer ladies.

Shaundra: What makes Chris Evans go wild in the bedroom?

Chris: So, a cheat sheet?

Aleesha: Why not. Ninety percent of the world might not ever get to use it so, yeah.

Chris: Okay. Someone who’s adventurous, not just into the basic things like a kiss here, lay on your back and thanks see you next time. I’m definitely a guy who enjoys the tease, make it last. Anticipation can be an intoxicating thing.

Aleesha: So, you’re into foreplay.

Chris: Absolutely.

Shaundra: What about when it comes to the head?

Aleesha: I have an idea. Here.

 Aleesha places a standing mic in front of him and smiles.

 Aleesha: Show us.

Chris: Show you?

Aleesha: Yeah. We always record our podcasts with video, and it goes to our YouTube for those who like a visual with their audio. We told you this. I figured the ladies at home would love to see.

 He looks to his brother and his partner and they’re already laughing no doubt thinking this is what he deserves for throwing censors to the side.

 Chris: What the hell.

 He leans closer to the mic and clears his throat and acts as if he’s about to showcase some superior athletic skills.

 Chris: All right so maybe start with some kisses along the—

Aleesha: Shaft?

Chris: Right, that. Don’t be afraid of it, get in there.

 He allows the ball of the mic to jamb into his cheek before he smears his nose across it taking a deep inhale.

 Chris: Just get in there. Tease it on your lips maybe add some sneak licks and flicks of the tongue before you come up and just put your mouth on it. a lot of women forget the head is super sensitive use that shit. Make him squeal and scrunch his toes.

Again, everyone laughed, and he tried to keep a straight face.

 Chris: If you can’t take it all take what you can, don’t just have your tongue sit there either figure out what to do with it. experiment. Have fun. Don’t forget to use your hands too.

 He grasps the mic with both hands and moves them in opposite directions sort of like a wrench.

 Chris: Make them do the opposite of whatever your mouth is doing. Don’t be afraid to get messy. Sloppy toppy is not a bad thing. Let the spit drip, hell gag a little. Be enthusiastic about that shit. A man can tell an unenthusiastic dick sucker. It’s obvious if you don’t want to slob on the knob. Don’t be the unenthusiastic dick sucker.

 They all couldn’t hold the laughter, including him. As he tried to get back into character, he took another sip of his drink and echoed the same thing he did from the beginning rubbing his face across the mic.

 Chris: Just have fun with it.

Aleesha: And for the finish, are you a facial kind of man or would you prefer to give mouthfuls?

 His smile was wide as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 Chris: Why choose? Depends what the mood of the night is. It has to go somewhere though.

 With that everyone uproariously laughed.

 Shaundra: Wow. Wow. That is all I can say.

 Aleesha and Shaundra both applauded his performance. He bowed his head to them and toward the camera in the corner.

 Aleesha: I think that is all we can take tonight on The Thirsty Hour.

Shaundra: I’d say thirst quenched Aleesha?

Aleesha: Hell no, we’re parched.

Shaundra: Thank you, Chris Evans, for coming by and kicking it with us. Any sistas that wanna step to Chris and represent and do it for the culture and show him what he’s been missing, please. You now have a roadmap to his pleasure.

 The ladies close the podcast and cut the video feed shortly after. They thank him again before he leaves and gets back into the car. On the drive, Scott teases him about him possibly going too far and warning him to be prepared for the fallout tomorrow. Chris knows he’s right but can’t seem to care. Tomorrow was another day and it wasn’t there yet.

[srsly-messed-up-fruitloop]

Tug of War (Ch 2)

prev - next

Word Count: 1,756

A month has passed since Danny and Wes had served their detentions (unfortunately Mr. Lancer’s favouritism didn’t extend to Casper’s basketball players). However, like always in the past, the chowder incident didn’t deter Wes from trying to expose him. And like before, Danny just ignored the lunatic’s attempts. At least he hasn’t tried taking any more of his stuff from their shared locker since.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Slamming his locker shut, Danny made his way to find Tucker. It was Tucker’s suggestion to go on patrol right after school since he had something planned later in the evening. However, no matter how many times Danny asked, he wouldn’t say what that something was. Too bad Sam was on vacation now. For sure she would’ve been able to squeeze the truth out of him.

When Danny approached his friend, he was kneeling, with his entire upper body swallowed up his locker.

“Uh, Tuck?”

Without budging from his position, Tucker responded, “Yo Danny, just give me a sec. I just need to finish with this wiring.”

Danny just stood there, observing in the various tools surrounding his friend before his eyes finally settled on an empty box for a George Foreman grill.

“Tuck...you didn’t...”

“Aha!” Tucker exclaimed enthusiastically. He backed out of the locker and admired his work. “Now let’s test this baby out.”

Danny watched wordlessly as he plugged something in a makeshift AC outlet inside the locker. A light beaconed from the top shelf, and there he spotted the grill.

Meanwhile, Tucker jumped up in glee. “Yeah baby! Can’t wait for lunch tomorrow!”

“But…” Danny paused as he noticed the stack of textbooks on the floor by his feet. “What about your textbooks?

Tucker motioned to the empty space at the bottom of the locker. “Thank god Sam took home her shoes, I’m just gonna dump ‘em all there.”

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s going to be furious.”

“Let her, I’m doing her a favour. I’m pretty sure you can grill vegetables too,” Tucker said as he began cleaning up. 

Danny stooped down to help him. “How did you even get the time to do this?”

He shrugged. “Just did it all in my spare.”

“Wait, you have a spare?”

“Yeah, last period. You didn’t know?”

Danny struggled to recall if Tucker ever told him this. His mind has been a whirl since school started. “I guess I forgot. Hold up, why don’t you go straight home then? You don’t have to wait for us.”

“Nah dude it’s okay, I actually get a lot more done studying at the library here than the entire evening at home,” Tucker assured as he placed the last tool in his backpack. He stood up and fished out his PDA from his pocket, checking off ‘Install grill’ from his to-do list.

“I see what you mean,” Danny understood, remembering how much of a distraction his parents were at home. Now that Jazz had left for Stanford, it seems that his parents have doubled their efforts to spend time with him. He gets it, they missed Jazz a lot. And in less than a year he’ll be gone off to college too (hopefully). Still, they were pretty distracting, especially when they had a new invention or discovery to show off. Thankfully he had a spare next semester.

“So Tuck, before we start, are you gonna tell me your ‘special plans’ later?” he inquired for the last time, trying to inject as much ‘Sam’ into his voice.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

Danny pouted. Before he could say anything else, he gasped when an icy fog escaped his mouth.

“Guess we’re starting patrol at the school today,” Tucker stated nonchalantly as he activated the ghost radar on his PDA. 

Looking both ways down the hall and confirming no one else was around, Danny transformed. 

Meanwhile, peering around the corner of the hallway in his basketball uniform, Wes seethed as he witnessed Fenton’s transformation for the seventeenth time! And like always, he didn’t have his camera with him. Why did basketball tryouts have to be today?

“Dammit!” he exclaimed, angrily stomping back to the gym.

How many times does he have to watch Fenton expose himself before the school finally takes a hint? Why are they so damn oblivious? Three years have passed and he still has yet to open anyone’s eyes to the truth! And Fenton has been masquerading as the town’s hero the entire time!

He doesn’t have much time left. Once he leaves for college, he’ll lose his chance. Sure, he could continue posting on his blog, but the seven visitors he gets every month either think it’s a joke or never heard of Danny Phantom. And who knows where Fenton’s heading after high school. He’d probably be stuck relying on his old evidence. Which isn’t even that effective, considering all the convincing it’s done so far. 

Time is running out. He refuses to let all these years go to waste. He’s dedicated his whole being to this. He cannot fail, he needs them to believe him. Otherwise, what has been his purpose all this time?

He can’t—they have to eventually believe him, right? He cannot go down that path again; the world needs him to prove this. 

He’s the only person who can. 

But what else he could do? He’s come to realize that Mr. Lancer gifted him the perfect opportunity to get close without faking being friends. Yet, except for the thermos that one day, Fenton hasn’t stored anything suspicious in their locker. Fenton must be keeping his weapons in his stupid sidekicks’ locker. That doesn’t help him at all!

There must some advantage to this sharing lockers thing. Some way...the memory of Fenton’s furious green eyes flashed through his mind. 

That’s right! Fenton’s temper brings out the ghost in him. And Wes has the perfect opportunity to get under his skin. Once the ghost loses control in front of everyone…

Then he’ll finally fulfill his purpose.

~

A yawn escaped from Danny as he trudged into school the next day. On autopilot, he grabbed his supplies from his bag and went to phase it into his locker. Except, when he leaned closer and his arm was halfway through the door, he stopped and sniffed. Something reeked.

Scrunching up his nose, he cautiously opened the door and cringed as the stench hit him full force. His eyes darted around the locker until they settled on the source of the offensive smell.

Wes’ basketball uniform. It was innocently lying crumpled at the bottom of the locker, but the stink it was emanating was criminal. He suddenly felt the urge to hurl. 

Didn’t Wes ever hear of deodorant? He didn’t know whether to feel disgusted or concerned. 

He was tempted to toss it into the trash bin in the hallway, but that would mean touching the smelly jersey and shorts.

Unable to stand it any longer, he kicked his locker shut and quickly retreated to his homeroom, backpack still on him. 

~

“Yo, Danny, you okay?” Tucker asked worriedly, noticing the sick look on his face when he sat down beside him.

Danny shook his head as he placed his books on the desk. “No. I…” he began, pausing when he saw his locker partner enter the classroom. “I need to talk to Wes,” he finished before abruptly standing up and striding towards him.

“What do you want, Fenton?” Wes coldly demanded. 

“You left your gym clothes in the locker.”

“Yeah, so? I’ll need them again for practice tomorrow.”

“Wes, they stink.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “It’s not that bad. You should feel lucky you’re not sharing with any of the other jocks.”

“You’re hardly a jock.”

“At least I’m something. Something real. You—you parade around this false loser facade, but I know who you really are Phantom,” he declared, poking him right in the chest. “And one day I’ll expose your true colours to the whole world.”

Danny really wasn’t in the mood this morning. Batting away Wes’ accusing finger, he cut straight to the chase, “Look, please just don’t keep your bas—”

“No.”

The two boys met each other’s eyes in a glaring contest. Neither side wanted to back down. After a moment, Danny continued, “Why not?”

“I’m just as entitled to keep whatever I want in there as you are. You don’t hear me complaining about your ghost hunting equipment.”

He was truly starting to lose his patience now. “No. Instead, you take my lunch and get us detention for spraying it on everyone.”

“Any other day I could’ve exp—”

BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

The two boys jolted as the bell rang.

“We’re not finished here,” Danny grunted before heading back to his seat. Why didn’t he just get rid of that horrible stench right then and there? One ectoblast would’ve surely turned those clothes to ashes.

~

“Sausage?” Tucker offered when Danny sat at their lunch table.

Danny eyed the smoke swirling from the meat. “Did you just make those?”

“Yup, here, try one,” he said while picking up one with a pair of tongs.

Before accepting it, Danny muttered, “Sam is going to be so mad.”

“I know. Anyways, what went down between you and Wes this morning?”

Danny swallowed a mouthful of sausage before he started, “He left his clothes from basketball practice in our locker.”

“And...?”

“Tuck, they stink.”

“My dude...” He pulled out a can of Foley and pushed it across the table. “You’re lucky that we’re friends. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

Danny scrunched up his nose from an overly musky smell coming from the so-called cologne. “Tuck, this will just make it worse.”

Smirking, he smoothly replied, “Precisely. How do you figure I got Sam to take her shoes home?”

“Oh,” he realized, matching Tucker’s smirk with his own.

~

“FENTON, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CLOTHES?” Wes shrieked when he stomped over to his desk the next morning.

Feigning innocence, Danny raised an eyebrow and responded, “What are you talking about?”

“My uniform, you—YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T TOUCH MY STUFF!”

“And I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Technically, he wasn’t lying. He just sprayed a little Foley at a certain spot in their locker. Okay, maybe not a little.

“I didn’t touch anything. It’s not my fault you’re just realizing how much your clothes stink,” he shrugged indifferently.

“I’ll...I’ll get you back for this Fenton!” Wes promised before stomping back to his seat.

Danny turned to an amused-looking Tucker and they both began to snigger.

[kinghoranshit]

Tell Me A Lie (NH) Ch 4

Word Count: 2,153

Warnings: swearing, anxiety

Six hours seemed to go by in a blink of an eye, and I felt like I was going to throw up as the plane came to a stop at the terminal and I had to get off. 

I hauled my stuff with me and exited the plane, going through the terminal. I took more deep breaths, trying to control my nerves.  

I shouldn’t have been shocked to see as many people swarming around as I did, and I saw my vision blur a bit as my anxiety kicked in. So, on top of the nausea, I felt great. 

I was told to stay close to the gate, Niall and security would come get me. Hopefully it'll be soon. I felt like people were staring at me just standing there; probably had the look of being lost, which wasn’t necessarily far from the truth. I decided to take out my airpods and block out all the noises with music. The flow of it guided my heart rate to slow back to normal and I let out another heavy breath.  

It’d be okay. Everything would be great. 

There was a tap on my shoulder so I took out one of the pods, curious, and then someone whispered, “Lauren.” 

My scream caught in my throat as I turned around in a jump. My reaction after turning around was to hit him in the arm. “Niall, not funny!”

He laughed, his eyes dancing. “I thought it was.”

Both of us looked at each other, smiling, and I sighed. “It’s great to finally see you in person again.”

“You too, Kelly.” He opened his arms for a hug and I accepted it. I couldn’t help myself from snuggling my face in his neck. He was just so soft and strong at the same time; humbled and still obviously so Irish. 

“You’re not gonna cry are you?” Niall asked. 

I scoffed with a small laugh, “No.”

He pulled back and it wasn’t hard to miss the small eye roll. “Come on.” He picked up my duffel from the floor. “I’m parked in one of the closer lots. It’s still gonna be crazy gettin’ out of er’.” 

I couldn’t stop the look I gave him. 

“What?” He laughed.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, laughing a little. “I didn’t expect you to drive us.”

He furrowed his brows now, and slightly scoffed, “Why not?” 

I shrugged, then bit my lip. “You don’t seem like the best driver.” 

“I’m loads good!” 

When my eyes landed on the vehicle he started going towards, I rolled my eyes once again. Of course it was his black Range Rover. But the windows were tinted, so I assumed it was the safest option. 

When I was a few steps from reaching the door, there was a flash and I couldn’t stop myself flinching and stepping back to catch my balance. Now, voices rushed.

“Lauren Kelly, right?”

“How’s it to be dating Niall Horan?” 

“Where are you two at in your relationship?” 

“Any wedding bells yet?” 

“Have any major fights?”

The flashes continued and a tight wave flowed through my body as they closed in on me. I was confused how they managed to find us at this parking lot. It was a random spot hidden in the back. It was so under the radar. 

A hand grabbed my wrist, yanking me forward, and I was pushed into the front passenger seat. I couldn’t rip my eye sight away from the security ushering the four paps and journalists away. After they’d done that, they nodded in our direction and Niall waved to them. 

Once we were gone, Niall gave me an apologetic look. “I didn’t think they’d track us down here. But that’s what the security is for.”

I only nodded and folded my shaky hands together. I licked at my tingling lips. 

Niall reached over to take one of my hands and kissed it. “You handled that so well, Lauren.”

To be honest, my mind was still fogged. That was more intense than I thought it would be. Oh my God. 

I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I did not… I didn’t expect paps to be that intense. I’m fine.”

“I can’t promise that won’t happen again, but we’ll have security, and more than likely they’re gonna be the ones hired by Modest.”

“Perfect,” I retorted.

Today was meant to be a buffer day where he and I could hangout at his house. He had some studio work to do. I knew that my adhd and anxiety made things difficult, but that’s what the medications were for and I had my exercises. 

Tomorrow would be our day out in public at Melrose, which I’d only been there once so it would be cool to go with Niall. The paps that Modest hired were supposed to snap us randomly over there.

We waited for this guard to open these massive gates that went into a development in Beverly Hills. This was not shocking to me, yet I felt out of place as Niall pulled through them. The buildings were definitely mansions and one of them was his. Holy shit. 

“Will there be security at the house?” I asked, and that was for sure the dumbest question I’ve asked thus far. 

“Oh, no, there's security at the gate. It’s a private community.” 

I snorted. “Any of your neighbors famous?” 

He laughed now. “All of them.” 

“You fuckin posh prick,” I scoffed with a laugh.

The Range Rover came to a stop and I gasped. His house was absolutely stunning. A mixture of California and Victorian; white bricks, orange roofing, two pillars framed the front entrance, and a two door garage accented on the side. There was a lot more greenery than I anticipated as well; I wasn’t shocked by the palm trees he had out front. 

“It’s really gorgeous, Niall,” I breathed. 

He ran a hand through his tips a couple times, a laugh trailing after. “Wait until you see the inside. Less impressive.” 

I rolled my eyes and didn’t say anything else as I stepped onto the concrete of the driveway. There was no way that it wasn’t just as nice inside. I pieced together that this wasn’t the home he spent the most time at when we stepped into the entrance; he probably did prefer his London home. The simple white walls and white marbled floor accented well with the greys, blues, and gold decor and furniture. I smiled at the framed golf photos and large canvas of an Ireland flag. 

Niall cleared his throat as he rocked back and forth on his feet. “Uhm, as you can see the living room is here, bedrooms are upstairs… Feel free to pick whichever you’d like. The studio is in the basement which is where I’ll be for the remainder of today. Need anything else right now?”

I shot him a warm smile. “Thanks, Ni. I’m good for now.”

He leaned in to leave a kiss on my cheek. “Get comfy. I’ll see you later, Lauren.” 

“Will do.” I laughed under my breath. 

He disappeared down the second spiral staircase. I was back to being lost. I willed myself to go adventuring upstairs. There was an office with a sleek, glass desk that looked like it was never used; it was spotless clean though. The guest bedrooms all had their own attached bathrooms and that was where the extraness came from, otherwise it didn’t actually seem that large. Not like I’d imagined; Niall has always been a simple man. 

The guest room closest to Niall’s room practically called my name so I plopped my duffel and backpack on the floor beside the bed. I sat down on the end and fell backward onto the soft cotton. My eyes found themselves having a hard time staying open, so I closed them for a bit.

Just a little bit… 

***

I lightly groaned as I involuntarily stretched. My hand rubbed one eye as I sat up. Part of my hair had stuck to my cheek so I wiped it away behind my ear. It was clearly much later and I cursed under my breath. Despite the guilt of wasting time I could’ve used doing anything else, I did feel like a whole new person. 

It was a nice nap I had to admit. 

I grabbed the binder for Stone Cold, my pouch of pens and sticky notes, and airpods before I padded my way to the first floor. I’m sure there was a nook I could use to do some editing before we ate dinner, whenever that was. There was no way I would push Niall on a time.

Speaking of, there was a faint strumming that came from the basement. A flutter appeared in my chest hearing his sweet voice following it. This was an invasion of his privacy, even if I couldn’t make out the words. It wasn’t morally right to stand around. 

The search for a spot to settle myself was back on. I finally found a small inset seating space under a window in the kitchen area; it was a beautiful navy velvet with a couple grey pillows. It was so comfortable, more than I could ever have predicted. It was my time to get invested in my own art and let the time slip by. 

***

There was a muffled voice that didn’t match the music I was playing. As much as I wanted to keep going, I marked the paragraph I just finished and looked up. Niall’s tired, yet cheery, features filled my vision and I couldn’t stop the smile. I took out one of the airpods, which automatically paused the song, and cleared my throat. 

“How’s the writing?” 

He shrugged. “Not bad I think. Have you been here the whole time?” 

“No.” I shook my head. “I actually fell asleep for a couple hours unintentionally.” 

“The best kind of naps.” He laughed.

I bit my lip. “Yeah, and then I came here to edit. It’s a nice nook.” 

He bit into the red apple he took from the bowl placed in the middle of the island and cheesed. “That it is… What should we do for dinner? We could go out, or get something to eat here.” 

I thought about it. If we went out, I probably should change into a more put together outfit that didn’t reek of travel. That didn’t seem the slightest bit appealing to be honest. We had the rest of the trip to eat out. 

“Do you mind eating in tonight?” 

“Of course not. There’s this amazing Thai place not too far that delivers if you’ve got no objections.” 

I smirked and shook my head as I stood. “Nope, Thai sounds wonderful.” 

Within twenty minutes, the two of us were sprawled on the black suede L Couch in the living room with our own entrees and pot stickers. I used the chopsticks to bring some noodles and a piece of broccoli to my mouth. We had the first season of Stranger Things going and I tensed at the sight of Eleven using all her strength on the monster. I hadn’t realized I held my breath until that thing and she were gone.

I ate more of my Thai now, switching my focus to Niall who’d wiggled his way to lay his upper half across my lap at the beginning of the episode. I didn’t mind his weight though, it was more comforting than anything; even if the pressure on my pelvic area did emulate the sensation of needing to pee. 

“That part gets me every time,” I stated. “She’s so badass.” 

“I agree,” he remarked and reached over for another pot sticker from the coffee table. 

“Get me one?” 

He raised his brows momentarily before breaking out a smile and reached again, then handed it to me.

I cheesed. “You’re the best. This was really good. I might be addicted.” 

“Don’t even get me started,” he scoffed with a laugh. “I get it every time I’m in LA.” 

“Was the choice to eat out or in going to lead to this place no matter what?” I narrowed my eyes playfully. 

“Maybe,” he mumbled, crossing his arms, and Niall made himself more comfortable; his eyes closed even.

I shook my head. “Such a dork.” 

A small smile spread on his lips. He didn’t say anything else, and it didn’t take me long for me to catch on that he’d fallen asleep by the slow rise of his chest and soft snores. Netflix rolled into the second season of Stranger Things. I laid my head back, and found my fingers running through the tips of his hair. 

Part of me realized that this should be more weird than it is, and the other part of me found calm happiness in it. It was okay for friends to do this sort of thing; platonic snuggles were normal. 

Eventually, I drifted off too. 

Next: Ch 5 

[Masterlist]

[monicawoe]

Supernatural fic masterlist

(updated 12/20/2020)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Closer Than You Think - Five times Sam’s eyes were demonic, and one time they weren’t. (3k words, boyKingSam AUs of multiple eps)

Behold the Beast, Behold the Lamb - Season 4 AU.  Sam tried to free Dean from Hell, but angels intervened and took Dean for their own purposes. Sam is determined to get Dean back and will do whatever it takes, embracing his abilities fully. The more demon blood Sam drinks, the more demons he kills, the more he changes inside and out until it’s impossible to hide his monstrous side. Ruby, Uriel and Castiel push Sam to fulfill his destiny and become his true self—the Beast of the Revelation. (gen, Sam/Ruby, 20k words; featuring art by @quickreaver​)

Hellbound - Sam is in Hell, and then he isn't. He's standing on a sidewalk with a stranger looking back at him—a stranger that has his face. My 2020 spn-summergen fic! Featuring soulless!Sam, disembodied soul-Sam and amnesiac Dean. (gen, 8k)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver​ for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

Best Self - written for @alyndra9​​  for the prompt: King of Hell Sam meets Kale!Sam and they have many differences of opinion to work out. (aka the only one who knows what Sam really wants is Sam.) words by monicawoe banner by @quickreaver​​! (~4k words, Sam/Sam)

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver​ for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling  Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

Tear You Apart - written for @wetsammywinchester​ who wanted Soulless!Sam/Brady & Soulless!Sam taking on the mantle of King of Hell:  Sam doesn’t want his soul back. He resurrects Brady who helps him figure out a way to outsmart Death: by damaging his soul so it can’t be reintegrated. With Brady’s help, Sam reclaims his power, and takes his soul apart one piece at a time. (8k words; Soulless!Sam/Brady)

Prayers Answered - written for the boy king Sam discord server prompt: Sam has grown up in a very religious environment. He's devoted, he goes to church, he prays. He knows that God is with him, because he listens to his prayers. But as Sam grows older, he realizes it's not God that's been listening. And he realizes that he's not asking - he's been ordering, and his loyal servants would never deny their King. (2k words; gen)

On His Head a Crown - written for the 2019-2020 SWBB, art by @slytherkins​ Hunters drug Sam, force-feed him demon blood, and bring him to where they’ve captured Brady. Brady tells Sam he knows how to stop the Apocalypse, and Sam, despite his better judgment, hears him out: Sam himself is the horsemen Conquest—aka the Antichrist—and he alone can bring Lucifer’s apocalypse to a grinding halt. Sam resists, but when he discovers the good he can do with his new powers, he decides to use them to atone for all his past mistakes.   (21k, Sam/Brady, gen, AU of 5x03-5x04)

Many more under the cut

Lakeside Fishing - written for @denugis​ - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (4k words; Sam/Patrick; set after My Bloody Valentine; witch!Sam)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean​​ - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.    After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver​ -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Make Angels of Us All - art by @amberdreams1960​  - Sam has a guardian angel. It’s been with him his whole life, trying to keep him safe. The angel gives Sam power he can’t control: power to move things with his mind, power over fire, and wings that nobody else can see—bony and jagged with scaly feathers. Dean says monsters aren't real, but Dad thinks they are. Sam's power scares him, and he’s not always sure what's real, but what he does know is people keep trying to kill the three of them, and he won't let that happen. (~20K, gen)

Burdens, Doublefold - cowritten with @quickreaver​, art by ileliberte What if Dean left Sam at Stanford after the fire, hoping it would keep his little brother safe and make things better? Somehow, 'better' never seems to be in the Winchester Family cards. Sam gets tangled up with his ex-roommate Brady, tracking psychics, but dealing with demons is never honest business. Dean carries on until his father is put in grave danger. He is left on his own to deal, stumbling into Harvelle's Roadhouse for help, where Dean gets just a little more than he bargained for. Eventually, the brothers’ paths twist and turn their way back to each other, but the results could mean the End of Days. (67k, gen, AU of seasons 1-2)

Before the One You Serve When Dean comes to get Sam at Stanford, he finds him living with Brady. And Dean doesn't trust Brady, even though he can't quite put his finger on why. Not at first. (5k, Sam/Brady)

He Who Fights Monsters - cowritten with nwspaprtaxis, art by @quickreaver​ AU of the summer between Seasons 3 and 4. Dean's dead, dragged down kicking and screaming to Hell. Sam's not dealing well. And Ruby’s got her work cut out for her. (52K, Sam/Ruby)

John Winchester is Dead They say those Winchester boys're crazy. Drive around in a big black beast and drink too much and laugh about mean things. They say their daddy's worse, but you never see him. He's just a voice on the other end of the phone or a darker shape in the back seat of their dark car. They say John Winchester died two years ago. (2k, gen, horror)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - featuring art by @quickreaver​ When Sam opened Lucifer’s Cage, the only thing he found inside was Lucifer’s grace – his grace. With the return of his grace, Sam remembered his past – his war against the Host, his Fall, and his plans to bring about the End. The thing is…he doesn’t want the Apocalypse anymore. He likes things the way they are, and tries everything to keep his identity a secret- especially from Dean. Of course, the four Horsemen, Hell and Heaven have other ideas. (13K, gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver​ The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver​ Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Pattern Recognition: A Hannibal/Supernatural fusion AU  -  Sam and Dean split after River Pass, and their confrontation with the Horseman, War. Since Will’s escape from the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane, he and Sam have been in hiding. They have a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, that keeps them off the radar; they find comfort in each other. But they can’t stay off the chessboard forever, especially not when Lucifer, wearing Hannibal Lecter as a vessel, is tearing the world apart around them. (33k, Sam Winchester/Will Graham)

Impala's Run - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by adrenalineshots Sam and Dean Singer (aka Winchester) aren’t your average young Kansas farmers. Their home is very, very far from Kansas, in fact. Many light-years worth of ‘far’. The boys may look human, but certain talents set them apart: Dean speaks the language of machines, and Sam can heal through manipulating energy. Hidden on Earth by their father, their agricultural lifestyle gets rocked when warring alien races discover where they’ve landed, and Sam and Dean are forced to make the run of their lives. (23k, gen)

All Our Wrath and Cutting Beauty - art by @quickreaver - Sam killed Alistair, but not before Alistair reminded Dean of who and what he’d become in Hell. Dean knows Sam can take down Lilith, and he’ll make damn sure Sam gets strong enough to do just that. They’ll stop the Apocalypse – together, no matter how many bodies stack up, or how much blood is spilt.(11k, horror) 

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

[reallyautomaticvoid]

Calling It Good Intentions: Chapter 6: You Know What They Say About Assumptions

Selina talks about brunch. Garth and Dick catch up. And then the Titans make a plan.

Bruce glares at the Batcomputer.  A week flew by since Batman and Tim had their conversation.  Though Bruice tried to…rearrange Tim’s out town Breakfast meeting, and, failing that, tried to cancel Tim’s plane ticket but found out that Tim had bought three…going to three different places so Bruce isn’t even sure what where Tim went.  

So he’d made a few calls to find out if anyone at WE knew where Tim had gone.  Bruce had been met by an irritated Tam who had informed him that, as far as she knew, Tim didn’t have any out of town breakfast meeting.  And what did Bruce mean Tim wasn’t in Gotham anymore?  

Bruce shrank back from Tam’s anger before remembering that he’s Batman.

So, after an intense conversation with Tam, who, somehow, got more answers out of him then Bruce got out of her which he did not like, but did respect, Bruce found himself going over all the recent data the Bats had on Tim which wasn’t much.  

A few blurry photos of Red Robin with the Titans and who is Tim Wayne dating now tabloids articles is all he and O could find.

Bruce is using his best Batman glare on his unhelpful computer when he feels a pair of hands rubbing on his shoulders.  

“You know, if you keep staring at the screen like that, your face might freeze that way.” Bruce’s grimace deepens.  “Yeah, that’s better.”  Selina laughs.  “What’s wrong?”

“Tim.”

Selina straightens.  “What?  Is he okay?  Oh shit, he’s in the hospital again, isn’t he?  Damn it, I told him to call me the next time that happens.  I can—” Bruce interrupts her.

“He’s fine.  Well, physically, as far as I can tell.”  Bruce scowls at his computer.  “I just can’t tell a whole lot right now.”

“Well, you are looking at Gotham’s Most Eligible Bachelors Under Twenty-Five.”  Selina clicks her tongue.  “Dick will be so disappointed to know that he didn’t make the cut.”

“He’s over twenty-five.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”  Bruce snorts because, point.  Selina kisses Bruce’s temple.  “There’s a laugh.  So tell me, what brought on this sudden bought of worry?  Tim seemed fine the last time I saw him.  Maybe a little tired.”

Bruce stills.  “When was that?”

Selina hums.  “A week ago?  Maybe two?  We had brunch.”

“You had brunch?”  Bruce’s mind refuses to accept this new piece of information.  

How had Selina seen Tim so recently when Bruce had not?

“Yes.  Brunch.  We get brunch every time he’s in town.  Or, at least we try to get it.”  Bruce finally turns around to face her.  Selina gives him an odd look.  “Yes?”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”  Bruce struggles to keep his tone neutral. 

Selina’s eyebrows shoot up.  “Oh, I didn’t realize I needed to tell you every time I had a meal with one of your kids.  Heads up, I’m having lunch with Dick next week, and I’m getting coffee with Damian later today.”

Bruce flinches at her tone.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay.  What did you mean?”

 “I haven’t talk Tim in or out of the uniform for months before last week.”

“I know.”

Bruce’s eyebrow furrow.  “How do you know that?”  

“Whenever you talk to one of your kids, you always brag about them.  You tell me what they’ve been doing and how they’ve been.  What member of the Rogue’s Gallery they’re taking on this week.”  Selina shrugs.

“Okay.”  Bruce nudges her when she stops talking.

Selina gives Bruce a piercing look.  “You’ve stopped talking about what Tim’s doing.  You didn’t mention him at all when I knew he was in town.”

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Selina gave Bruce a what?  Am I new here? look.  “I figured you guys had a fight or something.  I thought you’d tell me about it when you were ready.”  She pauses while she searches Bruce’s face.  Bruce isn’t sure she found what she was looking for when she continues,  “I thought that you were still…disappointed in Tim.”

Bruce turns away from Selina, shame burning in his gut.  “We’ve gotten past that.”

“Really?”  Selina's voice is dripping in disbelief.  “Because you haven’t talked about Tim since then.”

Bruce grits his teeth, not saying anything.  

*     *     *

Dick and Barbara had been up for days looking through computer logs.  It had been nine, almost ten, months since Red Robin had sent out a distress call to any of the Bats.  Almost as long since he filed any report on the Batcomputer.  

Damian was right; Tim had fallen off of Dick’s radar, and Dick hadn’t noticed.

Babs had gone home hours ago to get some sleep.  Dick, however, had yet to be able to get any.

Dick sighs as he ruffles his hair.  He glances at his cellphone.  

It’s not going to be that bad. It’s not like you’re asking them to give you a liver or something.  

Somehow, Dick thought it’d be easier to get a liver.

Finally, screwing up some courage, Dick dials his phone.

“You’ve reached Titans’ Tower.  If you’re calling to make a noise complaint, please press one now.  If you’re calling to make a complaint about the smell, please press two now.  If you’re calling to report the giant sea monster that’s coming out of the ocean, please call again later.”

Dick snorts. “Hilarious, Garth.”

“I try.”  Garth chuckles.

“How are you?”

“Well, other than I’m on monitoring duty, again, which sucks, I can’t complain.  You?” Dick could just see Garth laying on the couch watching TV while waiting for something exciting to happen while he stuck on monitoring duty.

“Been better. How’s Rae?”

“Magical.” Dick hears the smile in Garth’s voice.  “She’s meditating right now.  Did you want to talk to her?  I could see if she can talk.”

“No, no. That’s okay.  I was—I was just hoping you could do me a favor.”

“Dick, I don’t care if it’s in vogue again, I’m not getting a mullet.”

“It was a phase.  Are you ever going to let me live that down?” Dick laughs.  

“Probably not, no.  Have you seen the picture?”

“No, I destroyed all of them.  Although, Babs might still have some.  Last thing I need is for Damian, or worse, Jason, to find them.  God, they’d probably end up taking out a billboard.”

Garth howls with laughter. “Tell them I’ll chip in for that. That’d be hysterical.  Gotham most eligible Bachelor.  Man, I can just see your face!”

“Don’t you dare give them that idea.”

“Do you think I’d do a thing like that?” Dick could hear the glee drip in Garth’s voice.  

“Yes!”

“Fine, fine.  I won’t give them any ideas.  Chillax man.” Dick makes a mental note to check there weren’t any photos floating around the manner.  

Just to be sure. 

“So, why’d you call, Dick.” Gar asks as he munching on something crunchy.

“I need a favor, Gar,” Dick repeats.

“Yup, you said that already,” Garth crunches.

“And I want you to be honest with me.”

“Sure man.  Whatever you need.”

“Can you—How’s Tim doing?” Dick winces at the awkwardness in his own voice.

The other end of the line goes dead.

Dick takes he’s phone away from his ear to check the call hadn’t dropped.

It hadn’t.

“Why?”  Garth’s voice has a hard edge to it that Dick isn’t used to hearing.  

Not even on Slade after the whole Terra thing. 

Gar, the Titan who’s first to make a joke or pithy comment, is pissed.

“What-?”

“Why the sudden concern?” The hard edge of Garth’s voice increases while the volume hush.  

Dick shrinks back from the sound.

“It has recently come to my attention that I may have…I may have slipped up a bit in the brotherly department.”

Garth give a humorless laugh. “Slipped up a bit,” he repeats. “Jesus, Dick, I never pegged you as stupid before.”

“Gar, I know—”

“No, you don’t know.  You don’t know the half of it.  Hell, you probably don’t even know an eighth of it.”

Dick rubbed his temples. “So tell me.”  

It is just shy of begging, but Dick couldn’t bring himself to care.  Dick was ready to do just about anything if it meant getting his brother back.

“No,” Dick winces at the tone.  “Look, Dick, we’ll always be friends, and I’ll always value your friendship but you—you and the rest of the Bats—made this mess.  Now,” Gar give another grim laugh, “it’s up to you and the rest of the Bats to clean it up.”

Dick’s head fall back onto his pillow.  He hadn’t expected to get this much resistance (or anger) from Garth.  It was one of the reasons why Dick had gone to him.  Raven…well, he’s sorta surprised (and really, really relieved) that he isn’t in a Hellish dimension fighting off demons in his underwear.  

Again.  

Dick shutters at the memory.  It’s never fun when Raven’s pissed at you.

“I just—how about a jumping off point?” Dick was begging at this point, and both Dick and Garth knew that. “Or calling if he’s in real trouble?”

“No, Dick, I’m not spying on my teammate for you.” Gar’s icy tone make a shiver go down Dick’s spine.  “Besides, we did that.”  

Dick raises his head. “What?”

“After an attack from N.O.W.H.E.R.E., Rave and I called you.  Completely disregard Tim’s wishes, by the way.  He made it clear when he came back with the new suit that he didn’t want anything to do with you guys.  Said you guys didn’t care about him anymore.  Said that you guys had a new Robin and didn’t care about Red Robin anymore.” 

Dick’s blood ran cold.

How could he think that?  How could he believe they didn’t care about Red Robin?  

Dick, of course, knew the answers to these questions:  Because you shoved him out of the way to make room for someone else to take his spot.  Because you took his cowl and you didn’t even talk to him about it, you just assumed it would be okay.  

Welp, you know what they say about assumptions.

Garth, oblivious to Dick’s musings, keeps right on going. “Me and Rave didn’t believe him; we knew you.  We knew you’d cared. We’d seen it.  Hell, we’d watched you take Batman down a peg or two when he was getting too hard on Tim.  So, we called you after the attack.  We weren’t sure Tim was going to make it.” Garth clears his throat, taking a minute to regroup himself.  “It rang twice before going to voicemail.  You sent us to fucking voicemail.  And then, you never bothered called us back.  Next time I saw you at Wally’s poker game, you didn’t even mention it.”

 “When was this?”  Dick’s voice was hollow.  

“About two years ago.  You and Babs had just gotten back together for the millionth time.  Rave and I decided after that not to bother you about Tim again.  And you never called to check on him.  None of you did.  So the team—we figured Tim was right about the Bats; they didn’t care anymore.”

A shot of rage ran through Dick, causing him to jump up. “He’s my little brother.  Of course I care!”

“Okay then, Dick,” Garth’s voice could make it snow in hell, “how old is Tim?  What did he do for his last birthday?  Is he dating anyone?  What college does he go to?  Does he even go to school anymore?  When was the last time he left the country?  When was the last time he took a vacation?  If you can tell me the correct answer to any of these question right now, I’ll take it all back and shut up about it.” 

Dick opens his mouth to answer, while the rage simmered down into a new, familiar feeling of guilt because, shit he doesn’t know.  Any of it.  

Garth seems to know what Dick was feeling. “Thought not.”

“Damn it, Gar, I know I fucked up.” Dick paces. “I don’t need it to be pointed out to me.”

“I think you do. I’m not just saying this to be an ass to you.” Dick couldn’t help the snort. “I’m not. We’ve already had to pick up the pieces once.  I really don’t want to have to do that again.  I’m not sure we’d be able to do it again.  It was hard for both the team and Tim.  But—” Garth pauses for a moment before continuing, “but I am rooting for you.”

“Then can you help me?  Please?” Dick’s begging, but he doesn’t care. “I just want my brother back.”

Garth groans. “Fine.  I’m not promising anything, but I’ll bring it at the next Titan’s meeting. We’ll put it to a vote. I’ll let you know in a few days.”

Dick felt himself smile for what felt like the first time in years.  “Thanks, Gar.”

“Don’t thank me yet; I haven’t done anything.”

*     *     *

“I thought you weren’t coming until this weekend,” Tim looks up from his bike he’s working to see Bart.

“Change of plans.” Tim puts down the wrench. “I thought you had school.” Tim picks up a towel, starting to clean up.

“Change of plans,” Bart mimics.  Tim throws the towel at Bart’s head.  Bart catches it in a whoosh before cleaning up the entire garage. “Come on. It’s time for dinner. We’re having Chinese.”

Tim grins. “Steamed broccoli, over brown rice?”

Bart shakes his head. “You know, when you live in SF, home of some of the best food in the world, it’s practically criminal to only eat healthy food.” 

Tim shrugs.  “Food is food.  Might as well eat healthy.”

“Dude, I’ve seen you eat a gummy worm pizza with chocolate sauce.”

“Yeah, and I was fourteen.  I’ve grown up.”

“Growing up does not mean you only eat healthy food.” Bart hits the button to call the elevator.

“No, but it does mean you need to mature.”  The elevator dings before the doors open and the pair enter.

“Pff, maturity is overrated.” Bart pushes the button.  The elevator starts moving.

Tim laughs.  “You would thinks that.”

Bart smile falterers. “Seriously, man, what are you doing back here so soon? It’s not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but I thought you were itching to get out of here for a few days.”

Tim smile slips. “Yeah, I was but I develop a Bat infestation.  Probably going to have to move to get rid of it.” 

Bart moans in sympathy. “Wait, you’ll move to get rid of Bat but not the Demon’s Head?  You realize that’s fucked up logic, right?”  

“Hey, Ra’s pops up once every couple of months.  He does something to get my attention,” Tim starts.

“Yeah.  Like kidnap you,” Bart mutters.

Tim continues, louder, ignoring Bart. “We go back and forth a few times, he calls me detective, I call him an old geezer, I thwart whatever plot he’s trying to do, then I put kiddie shows on a loop for a few days, easy-peasy.  But Bats,” Tim sighs, “once one gets in, you’ll have a whole flock before long.”

“I thought birds had flocks, not Bats.”

Tim snorted. “Fine, a colony of Bats, then.”

Bart nods. “Ah, yes, that makes much more sense.” He and Tim stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting out laughing.

“The crapping thing is, Tam’s already called to chew me out.” Tim absentmindedly rubs his ear. “I’m going to have to go back to Gotham soon, or she’s threatening to bring all the paperwork here.”

“Oh, please let her do that.  I’d love to see Con’s face when he sees her.”

They were laughing when they finally reach the kitchen where Garth’s unpacking the food, Raven and Conner are getting dishes, while Cassie’s getting drinks.  

Tim pauses, admiring his team for a moment.  They are all working in flawless unison; one person would flow in as one of the other flowed out. 

Conner notices him first. “Tim!  I thought you weren’t going to be here for another two days.” He grins at Tim.

“Change of plans.” Tim shrugs but smiles back.

“Yeah, apparently, he has a Bat infestation.” Bart zips to Garth’s shoulder. “Did you guys remember my Mu Shu?”

Raven holds up a box which disappears in a blink.  She raises an eyebrow. “Bat infestation?”

“Yeah, apparently the Bats have decided to worry about me. Where’s my steamed broccoli?” Tim nonchalantly asks.  

Because it doesn’t matter.  Tim isn’t going to get sucked back in.  

Nope.  

Not him.  

Not after all of the tries and fails that happened over the years.  He isn’t going to get sucked in.  

He’s moving forward; not backwards.

Raven and Garth exchange a look.  It’s their patented, we know something but aren’t sure of how to tell anybody because it’s gonna piss people off look. 

“Well, there was something I was going to bring up at the next team meeting,” Garth starts slowly, “but, uh, Dick called me Tim.”

The kitchen froze.  

Tim shoves the burning wave of jealousy that threatens to consume him whenever Garth or Raven casually mentions how close they are with Dick.  

After years of practice, Tim could barely feel a thing.  

Or, that what he told himself.

“Oh?” Tim asks, not looking at anybody (which nobody misses) as he spoons brown rice onto his plate.

“Yeah.”  Garth’s voice is cautious.  “Dick wants me to keep tabs on you for him.  Give him updates.  About you.” Tim stops dead, mid spoonful.  Bart glares at Garth, who put his hands up. “I told him no, but he kinda—he kinda begged, Tim, so I told him I’d ask at the next meeting.”

Turning to blink at Garth, Tim tries to process the information he had just gotten.  

Garth take his silence as anger. “Look, dude, I can totally tell him to go to Hell.  It was kind of a dick move, anyways, asking me to spy on you.  Which I told him by the way.  I mean, not in some many words because he is still my friend, even if he is a dick to—” 

Raven puts a hand on Garth’s shoulder. “Stop talking.” She looks at Tim with a serene expression. “Why don’t we eat?”

Tim mechanically sits down, staring at a plate which is filled with cooling brown rice and broccoli.  

There’s a gentle hum of noise as everyone eats.  

What is Dick up to?

Silverware clink.  

What about Bruce? 

Bart does something goofy which makes Con laugh.

Why the sudden concern?

Tim goes through the motions of eating, not tasting anything.  

Cassie, who’s sitting on the right of him, make an irritated noise.  She’s been watching Tim going through the motions of eating while trying to engage him in conversation.

“Why don’t we just give them some bad intel and then maybe they’ll leave us alone.” She mutters so quietly, Tim’s sure he isn’t supposed to hear.

However, Tim does. 

“Let’s do that.” He loudly announces.  The table starts.  Clearly, the rest of the table didn’t hear. “Let’s do what Cassie said,” all eyes turns to Cassie who squints at Tim. “Let’s give the Bats bad intel on me.” 

The cogs in Tim’s mind are whirling.  There are so many way they could do this.  So many things they could do with this.  

Tim looks up to see the table staring at him like he’s gone nuts (minis Raven who’s unflappable). “No, really. Let’s tell them crazy things, like I went to Jamaica to find myself or Singapore to get dinner or some shit like that.  Maybe if we send them on enough wild goose chases, they’ll leave me alone.” Tim grins.

Cassie shakes her head. “Oh for Goddess sakes, Tim, I was being facetious.”

“I know, but, just imagine it for a minute: Gar what new with Tim?” He causes the table to jump at his ability to mimic Dick so well. “Whelp, he’s got a secret girlfriend and a secret boyfriend that he thinks we don’t know about.”

Bart grins like it’s Christmas. “Oh hell, I want to be there to hear Dick reaction to that. It’d be fucking hilarious.”

Raven frowns. “Tim, Dick and the rest of the Bats are intelligent. They’ll eventually figure out that we’re lying to them.”  

“So we’ll pepper in some truths too.”  Tim leans back in his chair, plotting.  

“Yes, but, what do we do when they figure out we’re lying to them. Batman’s a member of the league.  He could make our lives difficult when he finds out.” Raven points out.

“We’ll worry about it then.  I have a few ideas though that should circumvent any problems that we might have.” Tim smiles. “I think this could work.”

“I think it’ll be fun.” Bart leans back in his chair.

Cassie shakes her head. “I think this end in fire and destruction.”  

“Yeah, but, what a ride.  Besides, with all of the jerking around that they’ve put Tim through, I think they’ve earned this.” Garth smirks.  

Cassie inclines her head.

When Tim looks around at Conner, he can tell the meta is deep in thought.  Tim gives him a raised eyebrow, Conner says, “what do you think about, ‘sorry Dick, Tim’s not here right now.  He went to Smallville to get a hug’?”

Who's ready for some shenanigans?

Thanks for reading!

[hyunlixsung]

MIROH // Hyunjin 1

Here it is part one of Miroh. This will be a chapter story changing point of view ever chapter so look out for who’s next!

Mindset. It’s all about mindset. From the moment you wake up, to the moment you rest your head in dreams. Everything your emotions, thoughts, perceptions, reactions, and actions are up to you. Every moment is yours to destroy or thrive. You cannot go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending. We will fight this war and win. We shall become the storm.

Aera’s log

When the corruption began I don’t even know. I just remember the day so vividly. Like a switch was flipped. Every citizen was to get an embedded name ID in their skin. The rules came after. No soliciting. Curfew at 11 pm. No removal of the ID. Follow orders. Do as your told. Stay out of the way. Most importantly do not cross the government leaders. As corrupt as they were it was better to shut your mouth than to undergo whatever sick punishment they could conjure up.

We went on about our lives with the changes in place, but sooner or later the system was becoming injust. It is the people’s right to crumble the injust system of government. A rebellion first began by a group that called themselves BlackPink. Four girls had tried to overthrow the government, but they were unsuccessful. Forced to surrender on their knees and they became pawns of the government. A reminder of what happens when you mess with them. Limbs replaced by metal like a robot. They broke them down to pieces until there was only a shell left of them. Rumor has it some of them escaped, but the government didn’t even bother to look for them. That’s how bad they were beat down. My guess is that they died and didn’t get very far.

That was four years ago and today everyone is more careful and you never know who is on your side. I’m not technically an actual member of the rebellion, but my boyfriend is. Hwang Hyunjin was meticulous, precise, intelligent, and devilishly handsome. We had been together for two years now. It started when I had been out past curfew. My sister was terribly ill and mama couldn’t run the risk of trying to get herbs let alone medicine so I volunteered to go out. It was risky and punishment could range from a warning to whips to being roboticized depending on the guard. I knew the risks and I still went out for those herbs.

I had carefully memorized the schedule, but I made a mistake. A guard had been on duty and I don’t know what he would’ve done if it weren’t for Hyunjin. He saved me and even helped me gather herbs for my sister. After he had helped me he proposed I give him something in return and that was a date. The rest is history and here we are two years later. Now remember when I said I wasn’t technically a member of the rebellion? It’s cause I wasn’t at the time. Hyunjin is protective of me. I know what he’s doing is dangerous. He and eight other boys call themselves skz and they are the head of the rebellion. They use the shut off underground subway to scheme up their plans. Something big must’ve been coming as Hyunjin insisted I leave the city. Well that and the disappearance of skz leader’s fiance Cheyanne and two other members, Jeongin and Seungmin’s girlfriends Kira and Araya. She disappeared around two weeks ago without a trace. The idea came up fairly recently, but he insisted further.

Not going to lie. We argued, a lot. My safety was his number one priority and I reluctantly left the city to finally reunite with my mom and sister without his knowledge. It was now or never and I chose now and I wasn’t alone. Siyeon, Minho’s girlfriend, had joined me as he kept introducing the idea and the opportunity was too perfect to pass up as the guards excessively questioned people leaving the city and we had to be secretive about it. Not to mention we had gotten rid of our ID’s on our arms and there was sure to be punishment for that. So we left without telling anyone and we headed south. We had been city hopping further and further from the capital and we hadn’t been as aware as we probably should have been. We ended up in the wrong part of the city and apparently someone’s territory. It didn’t take them long to find us and realize we weren’t from around here. We were approached by a girl with long brown hair and literal puppy eyes. She introduced herself as Sana and thought we would do well in their crew. We accepted and she introduced us to the crew. Well one half of the crew.

They called themselves Twice. There was two leaders both in separate sectors of the city. My crew consisted of Siyeon, Sana, Momo, Jeongyeon, and Nayeon. We took orders from Nayeon and Nayeon only. The other leader Jihyo was in the other sector and I wasn’t to worry what would happen with her. Nayeon trained us hard. We became stronger mentally and physically. Eventually we were to pass a test. It had everything. Obstacle course, ploy guards, weapons, all of the above. Our mission was to take down the guard without being caught by the other guards and we had managed to pass the test successfully. Nayeon rewarded us and officially welcomed us to the Twice crew. We were to get code names as we ran the risk of being known by name. From then on I was to be called Xany and Siyeon was to be known as Silo. The six of us made a great team and we worked well together. Too bad communication didn’t reach to the other half of Twice very well.

---

Jihyo had been checking the guards schedule and making sure the leaders were still in the capital when she got the call. She stared at the cell phone seeing a familiar number flash across the screen, but you could never be too careful. Her voice was hard as she picked up the call.

“Who is this?” Sternness oozed from her tone.

“Jihyo come on you know me.”

The girl scoffed. “State your name.”

She didn’t have to see her old friend to know he had rolled his eyes in annoyance. “CB97.”

“Well, well. What do I owe the pleasure to for the Bang Chan to be calling me of all people?”

“Very funny Jihyo. Look we got a problem on our hands.”

Jihyo sat up ready to hear it. “Lay it on me.”

“You know how two weeks ago my fiance disappeared?” You could hear the anger in his voice as he said that. There would definitely be hell to pay.

“Yeah we’ve been looking and so far nothing.” Jihyo typed on her computer and found nothing relating to Cheyanne.

“Well it isn’t about her this time.”

“What do you mean?” Jihyo questioned skeptical.

“Hyunjin and Minho’s girlfriends are missing.”

Jihyo felt her blood run cold. “How long ago and their names.” She was ready to type.

“It’s been three days since they’ve been M.I.A. Aera and Siyeon.” Chan sounded frustrated.

“I don’t have anything on them Chan. They’ve been off the government’s radar for more than a few days. You’re sure they haven’t been missing longer?”

“No. Hyunjin talked to her four days ago. He went to see her and she was gone. Without a trace.”

“Interesting. I’ll keep a lookout for you.”

“Thanks Jihyo. Were still a go in a month right?”

“Correct. Nine am sharp we will be there. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long.”

“It’s long overdue, but planning the destruction of a corrupt government takes time. You got Nayeon in the loop?”

“Sure do.” Jihyo sent a confirmation text to Nayeon just to make sure. “We’re a go. Cheers to overthrowing a government Chan. See you soon.”

“See you soon Jihyo.”

Jihyo sighed staring at the pictures of the two newly missing skz girlfriends to add to the list. She would be sure to keep a lookout for them.

---

Aera’s log

It was go time. Nayeon had been preparing us for this for about a month and I’ve never trained harder for anything in my life. I was ready to destroy a corrupt government once and for all. We had taken the train to the capital successfully. It was nine am exactly when we began our attack. The rebellion swarmed the leaders capturing them one at a time. I shot forward tackling one of the leaders and pinning him to the ground. I grinned fueled by adrenaline as I tackled the nearest guard to my left. I threw punches left and right until I was sure he wasn’t gonna wake up any time soon. I wasn’t about to murder somebody. Leave that to someone else to deal with. As I continued to take down guards I failed to realize the familiar faces in the crowd watching with disbelief.

---

Jihyo smirked in satisfaction as she watched the rebels take down guards. She saw her team as well as Nayeon’s detain guards and then she saw someone she’s never seen before. She elbowed Jeongyeon and pointed at the new girl.

“Who’s that?” Jihyo whispered.

“Oh meet our newest recruits. Xany and Silo.” Jeongyeon grinned like a proud mom.

“Wait recruits? As in PLURAL?!”

“Uh huh. They are awesome you’ll love them.” Jeongyeon ran off narrowly dodging Seungmin.

Seungmin turned in the direction Jihyo was staring in and his eyes widened. “Aera?!”

---

I sprinted at another guard and letting all my anger out on him. Once I was sure he wasn’t getting back up I spun around and shot a paralyzing dart into another one’s thigh smirking. I ran across the now battlefield rushing to Siyeon’s aid. As I sprinted I narrowly missed a familiar boy, but no time to waste on trying to recognize him let alone have a second look. Once Sana wasn’t in immediate danger, I met up with Siyeon.

“Are you ready to infiltrate that building and save our babies?” Siyeon panted as we ran to the building.

“They are gonna pay. Kira and Araya better not have one single scratch on them or I swear to god somebody isn’t leaving this place alive.” I hissed.

We never made it to the building though. Momo had intercepted us telling us they weren’t there.

“What do you MEAN nobody is there?!” Siyoen screeched in disbelief.

“I mean what I said. Nobody is there I checked!”

That couldn’t be. They were supposed to be there and yet they weren’t. It didn’t make sense. I felt dizzy with confusion, but my train of thought was interrupted by a very familiar voice full of disbelief.

“Aera?!”

[whitewolfbumble]

The Avengers Haunted House

Summary: Loki was looking for a way closer to you. Nothing like a little haunted house (with some extra magic touches added) to scare you right into his arms.

Request: Hiii, well I was thinking about request with bucky/reader or loki/reader with a halloween theme(hope it's not too soon 😂). It doesn't matter which pairing you choose it's just I would like to read something funny and fluffy or angsty (your choice). From @marveloustrashpanda!

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Some Halloween fluff, a tiny tinge of pining and lust, & some spooks thrown in!

Word Count: About 5k

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! My treat to you is a lil Halloween fic while Loki is bringing the tricks here, so hunker down with some candy and enjoy a short read! Thanks to @marveloustrashpanda for the request!! Love you babe and hope you enjoy!! This was written & posted quickly so I apologize for the typos!

MY MASTERLIST // SEND ME A REQUEST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

You were pressed completely flushed against him, barely able to even breathe much less move under him. The cold wall at your back gave you no opportunity to move away. His warm body was lined up with yours, the force of it just on the right side of bearable.

“I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea,” you mumbled half-heartedly into his shoulder, not in any way sure if the butterflies and stomach turning was from sheer panic or having the Asgardian so skin-warmingly close.

A soft, low chuckle breathed down your ear and neck, Loki’s head leaned down and lips brushed your cheek.

“Yes, my little mortal,” he whispered, chest moving with yours, hands and arms circling you tightly. “I think you bit off far more than you can chew with this one.”

October 29th: Two Days Earlier

To say the Avengers were competitive wouldn’t have been a shock to anyone. You can’t grit and grind to the end of a brutal battle without the deep rooted need to win inside you. And the Avengers all had it. That need to surpass and overcome and above all win no matter what the odds or what the cost? Yeah, that was in no short supply on the team.

Unfortunately when there wasn’t a big bad to go after, that shared competitive spirit often led to interesting discourses and sometimes quite the intense challenges.

“It was by far the scariest costume of the party, I swear.” Clint said, crossing his heart. He was sitting up on the counter, back against the fridge and feet dangling into the sink (much to everyone's resigned displeasure).

“Please,” commented Natasha, used to this kind of confident talk and never letting it just slide. Not with Clint anyways. “I was there, and it was not. How is “The Blob” of all things in anyway scary? People thought you were a potato, Clint.”

The group gather in the lounge of the compound chuckled and smiled, all throwing looks each other. It was quite the amount of commotion, considering there were no missions happening and nothing on the radar either, meaning just about everyone on the team was hanging around. 

You were there sitting comfortably on the couch with Steve and Tony, Clint and Nat were at the bar, with Sam and Thor to one side and Loki leaning against the wall behind you. Save a few members, the whole gang was mostly here and restlessly idle.

“Listen, it was terrifying and you know it, Nat.” Clint said, pointing back at her once the chuckles died down.

“Well, no it wasn’t. What was scary was the house.” Nat said. “It was completely decked out. Looked amazing. It had nothing on the other haunted houses I’ve been in... Or HYDRA crack dens either.”

“I could do it better.” Clint whispered in a sing-song kind of way, looking down at his fingernails.

“Guaranteed I could make a far more scary haunted house than you, french fry.” Tony piped up, not to be outdone. “And none of that low-tech, fake blood stuff, but actually terrifying. You’d all run out screaming your cute little heads off.”

Soon enough everyone was talking, Nat and Clint throwing remarks back and forth, Tony and Sam jabbing at one another on classic scares verses modern frights, and Thor talking to a rather disgusted looking Steve about what the otherworldly terrors he’s been witness too.

You just sighed and leaned into the couch, throwing a knowing look behind you to the quiet Loki who rolled his eyes a little, small smile on his face. Somehow it always ended up like this, the two of you shaking your heads at the boisterous bunch. But an idea came quickly to mind, as it usually did in times like these, and you figured it would be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone as it were.

“Alright, alright,” you said, interrupting the cacophony before things got hairy. God, no one here was able to handle a bit of free time, were they. “Let’s settle this than? Halloween is in two days. How about anyone who wants to be titled “The Ultimate Horror Champion” picks a room at the compound here and we put on a real haunted house. After that, the few of us not participating vote on which room was the scariest.”

Bright eyes danced from just about everyone at the idea, a brief moment of silence following as minds began sparking with ideas.

“So... I take it that’s a yes?” you asked.

An immediate eruption of voices rang out, agreements flooding in and dibs on specific rooms sounded off. Some just jumped up and raced out of the room to get started on the first ever Avenger Haunted House.

It had at first been infuriating for him to feel this way for a little thing like you.

For some time behind closed doors he fumed at the thrall you had over him, an angry burn that flooded every inch of his Frost Giant body. But inexplicably that fiery heat melted into a calm, purring warmth in his chest whenever you walked into a room. Your sparkling laugh, your bright eyes, your cunning wit, ability to make peace or war with a few words, heaven-crafted beauty… In all actuality you reminded Loki of him, all those qualities he recognized clearly in his own self.

But your charm and personality wielded a quieter kind of power than his. It was a lighter, delicate, and peaceful type of power. An equal and opposite to his own. Despite you being mortal and possessing none of the seiðr Loki had himself, he was quite under your spell and had been for too long.

Eventually the fiery and stubborn resistance to you when you weren’t around faded, leaving him in a constant state of want when you were gone, and hollow contentment when you were close. Because you were just never close enough.

He wanted to feel your skin to his, your breath on his body, ring out in a laughter and pleasure that was all and only for him. And it was at a point where he just about couldn’t stand it anymore. 

Now, part of his acceptance to the team was an agreement made to drastically reduce any magic and not to interfere with mortals... but that agreement was about to be altered. As soon as you had mentioned this Halloween haunted house game, Loki knew he’d manipulate whatever he could about it to his (and your, he assumed as it would mean being closer to him) benefit. He’d been far too good lately, it was time to break a couple rules...

You threw a bag from the cupboard behind you without looking, the plastic smacking down the counter. Bright little wrappers held mini chocolates, ready to be gobbled down by kids (or the bumbling Hogan, who was determined to sit by the door and wait for the trick-or-treating kids… probably only to avoid the supposed oncoming terror of the competition that night).

It was you and Loki in the kitchen alone, though the buzzing energy of the compound was palpable even here. Everyone was scattered and running around, getting all the last minute details in place for their haunted rooms. It had been two days of secrecy and madness, and no-one was willing to give up a spare second, determined not to lose whatever edge they could have.

“I know there were more in here,” you said, rummaging through the cupboard for more treats, voice muffled as you stuck your head in. “Actually, I did see your brother munching on something that could have been mini chocolate bars… I’ll bet he nipped a bag.”

“He is quite greedy and inconsiderate of children.” Loki agreed lightly, subtly emptying his pockets of wrappers into the trash while you weren’t looking.

“Please,” you laughed. “You and I are complete Scrooges compared to him. Let’s not kid ourselves about that.”

He quirked a brow, leaning against the counter a couple feet away from you. Though you couldn’t see him, he didn’t doubt you knew what question was on his mind.

“Sorry, wrong holiday.” you supplemented, now pulling down a million and one things from the cupboard in your hunt for more candy. “Scrooge is a Christmas thing, I don’t think we got to that story last year.”

“It can’t be any more dull than this holiday.” Loki said, gesturing vaguely to nothing.

“Please, you love it, I know you do.” you said above the shuffling. “Candy? Costumes and masks? Theatrics and over-indulgence? You were made to celebrate this holiday. Happens to be my favourite one too.”

“You mortals make no sense to me,” he said in feigning disapproval.

Well, maybe all mortals save you. You he understood perfectly.

“You know, you were here last year for this,” you pointed out to him, head popping out with a triumphant little smile at the bag of treats in your hand. “None of this is new information.”

“I’m aware,” he said with that mix of dry charm which always managed to pull a smirk and half an eye roll from you. “But I still don’t fully understand the point of people willingly giving out sweets rather than indulge in few harmless tricks instead.”

As you turned around to lean against the counter you saw that nothing about his look said any of his tricks would in fact be harmless. You could practically see the wheels turning on what tricks he would pull on kids and people alike behind those gleaming eyes and that subtly mischievous smile.

“What, you don’t like sweet things?” you said, eyes innocent and wide.

That look and the demure way in which you held yourself made him stop a moment, trying to casually swallow down the heated wanting it brought on. He shrugged a shoulder slightly looking at you head on, determined not to let the sway you held overtake him. It gave him a look of intensity, green eyes set to yours.

“Oh my dear, I love sweet little things.” he said back. He was about to take a step forward to you when Clint came barreling through at top speed in a clamorous sprint.

“I need more buckets! Stat!” he hollered as he ran through the kitchen and out the other side, leaving you and Loki watching him in vague humourous confusion. “Stat means now!”

A snort got caught in your throat at that, just as your phone alarm went off.

Looking up to Loki, your eyes were bright and smirk just as mischievous as his had been a moment ago.

“Time’s up for the team,” you said excitedly. “The witching hour is about to start.”

The deal was- much to Loki’s delight- that everyone would be paired up going into each room, and he knew he would have to find a way to get you as his partner.

Maybe mortals were used to giving treats on Halloween now, but he wasn’t mortal and tricks were far more his style. So that was his plan tonight. Just a couple simple tricks, nothing too intense or scary. But just enough to get you to jump in his arms for protection (which he’d happily oblige you).

So when it came down to begin this game, he was set to coerce, maim, or kill to get you alone with him. It was down to the last four people: Rhodes, Wanda, you and Loki. And before Loki could make a sly suggestion (before going to a bit more of an extreme route), you spoke up.

“Alright,” you said easily, to Wanda and Rhodes. “You guys go ahead, Loki and I will follow after and end out this haunting.”

The two took off eagerly, wanting to see what was in store for them after watching the other pair go in one by one. That left you and Loki along in a bright empty hallway, waiting for your turn. And the beginning to what was going to be a deliciously fun night for Loki.

“You ready?” you said quietly to Loki. “Because if I know these guys, they will try and make us run out of there screaming. Hope you’re made of strong stuff.”

“I’ve battled creatures you couldn’t begin to fathom, darling,” he said with that usual smirk to your half-eye roll. “But I’ll protect you from whatever lurks in there, I promise.”

You didn’t see his smile grow as he turned towards the entrance of the hallway. It was a long stretch that would lead to the other rooms, and the first stop in this haunted house. Loki held out his hand to you and you took it.

“Shall we?”

Windows lined the long stretch of the corridor to your left and all the way down at the end of the hall. The dark rustling trees outside and cold night gave off that feel of unease, with the only minimal light (if you could call it that) from the half moon outside. The rest of the space was pitch black, though you thought you could make out murky shapes in the darkness.

Taking a few slow steps in, the pair of you looked at each other, you giving half a shrug before carrying on down the dark space.

A low growl ran out from the speakers, the familiar static of a recording sounding with it. Not terribly scary just yet, despite the near pitch blackness and woods outside.

“I guess we’re starting off with werewolves,” you said to yourself.

Just down the hall you saw several pairs of eyes flash to life all at once, like little painted light bulbs. It was decidedly simple but did look a little eerie in the dark.

Loki took step just behind you, eyes on you as he breathed something in existence that was certainly not of Earth.

A moment later, you stopped in your tracks, confused. Instead of the yellowish eyes in the dark, suddenly red ones appeared. Big, gleaming eyes in the blackness like blood painted rubies shone back to you from the end of the hall. And they looked like they were moving closer. And closer… And closer...

The speakers cut out with a catch, but the growling didn’t stop. In fact, it only got louder, more feral, and dripping with predatory aggression. Your head snapped around behind you as you heard more growls in the dark, surrounding you both from either end. Red eyes watched and slowly moved in on you, only a shadowy outline of a hulking, crawling frame accompanying them. And those hungry eyes were fixed on you.

Okay, now you were a touch scared.

“Loki…” you whispered, voice tight with fear. You closed ranks, moving behind the Asgardian as you two stepped back to the window.

Loki wrapped his arms gently around to the small of your back, feeling you breathing increase and heart pound a bit in your chest against his back. You had a beautiful heat coming off of you, causing a tingle to cascade through his always cool skin.

“How are they doing this exactly?” he asked, keeping all amusement out of his voice and a tinge of apprehension there instead, needing to draw out this rouse as long as possible.

“I… I don’t know.” you whispered, eyes darting to either side of you, watching the red eyes get closer.

“Shall I take them, or will you?” Loki asked turning around a bit and unable to hide just a little humour there.

“Ha, ha,” you said back, giving him a light kick to the shins. “Like you could either keep me away from a fight or make me do all the work. Whatever this is, we’re doing it together obviously.”

With a bit of a gulp you stepped out from behind Loki, hand connecting and lingering with his as you moved slowly towards one end of the hall, and Loki the other.

“Listen,” you said tersely to the creature in front of you, jaw clenched. “If you’re Steve in a wolf costume, know that I’m coming at you. Like really coming at you here. So either drop this or expect a trip to the med bay, Rogers.”

But if there was a person in a costume, they made no indication.

Its deep growl became so low that it almost passed into an octave that you couldn’t hear, and its huge shadowy frame began to shift down closer to the ground. Just as it was preparing to pounce, so were you.

The moment it sprung up all chaos was let loose, ear shattering barks and claws scraping against tiles, flashes of dark shadows, blood red eyes, and snapping white teeth in the dark.

You dodged the initial strike, swiftly moving to the side by the skin of your teeth and gripping on the rough fur as it flew to where you stood just a second ago. You held on and used the momentum to throw yourself up onto the huge hunched back of whatever the hell this thing was, the jutting vertebrates digging into you.

Instantly the thing started freaking out, bucking and throwing its snapping teeth back to try and get at you, snarling and furious. In the darkness you locked the monster into a headlock, try to constrict its airways and knock this thing out.

“Jump!” came a voice, knocking the focus out of you and kicking in your reflexes. Instantly you complied, leaping off the creature and crashed to the ground. Just in time for a second beast to go hurling full speed at the thing, sending them both tumbling violently down the hall in a heap.

Hands were on you, lifting you up and carrying you down the hall in the second. As the creatures shook their heads dazed and struggled in the pile of limbs to stand, you and Loki raced by. You crashed through the door to the lit hallway, Loki setting you against the wall quickly before closing and securing the door behind you in a fevered rush.

The moment you were out and free from those things, you were leaned against the wall, hands on your knees, puffing and shaking your head.

“Okay… that may be the first one but that is the one to beat!” you said, straightening a bit and running and hand through your hair.

Loki was up to you in a moment, hands place on your waist and cupping your cheek, his expression concerned and caring.

“Are you alright?” he whispered to you, an innocent concern in his forest green eyes.

You closed your eyes and leaned your face into his hands. The feeling of it sent a bolt of addicting electricity straight through him. Touching you was an intoxication, but having you seek it out? Indescribably exquisite. His cool hand practically burned in the best possibly heat he’d felt.

“Yeah,” you said clearing your throat and straightening up, pulling away from his hand and breaking that electric connection with a snap. “Yeah, that was just… unexpected, I guess.”

Gently Loki tucked your loose hair delicately behind your ear, savouring the feel of you as much as he could and finding himself quite unable to stop touching you.

“They certainly can’t get any worse than that now, can they,” he said warmly, leaning in perhaps a little too much. “To the next?”

The next room was the large boardroom built to host quite a number of people, and much to your delight it was a great deal brighter than the last dark corridor. Also, it had no large dark beasts in it, so that was already a plus.

If the last one was like meeting wolves on a dark dangerous road, this room was like a jello factory exploded and left this room filled with the jiggly, colourful mess.

Big globs of slime were on the tables and chairs, dripping down the wall and ceiling, squelching on the floor as you stepped into the room. It made the room glow in a practically neon way.

You smacked a hand to your face, grin creeping out.

“Guess what this is,” you said, turning to Loki before raising your hands and wiggling your fingers spookily. “The Blob!”

You turned around to look at the complete goopy mess this place was, hand on your hip as you wandered in.

“Clint is going to have an awful time cleaning this up. Yeesh,” you said, picking up a fistful of the wet squishy stuff from the table. “This is just weirdly gross. I hope this isn’t some weird fetish of his…”

“Uh, Y/N?” Loki said. When you turned he was pointing up to a vent just on the wall beside you.

Forcing its way slowly through was more of that blob stuff, pushing through the grates of the vents and moving down the wall with seemingly more purporse than jello should.

“He put it in the vents?! Damn it, Clint.” you mumbled. But that wasn’t the worst of it you soon noticed.

It start coming out from under the door you just entered from too. Then pouring down from the ceiling light fixtures. You clutched Loki’s wrist as a snapping crack rang out, making you jump. You felt your feet shift, looking down in a bit of shock as the tiles were cracking and pushing up, ooze determined to get through.

Maddenly quick the fast unevening floor pushed and toppled chairs, raising up the table and cracking it in two, splitting the drywall, and coming down in huge chunks with the ceiling.

You decided now was the time to run.

You grabbed Loki’s hand, maybe taking two steps before slipping, jerking him down to the ground right on top of you. He ended up with his face coming down on the back of your neck, luckily able to brace slightly so you weren’t completely crushed under his Asgardian body.

You let out a groan, shifting and shuffling on the soaking ground so you were on your back, facing him with a hand on your forehead, eyes shut against the knock of pain the floor had given you.

Meanwhile Loki was transfixed, his body on top of yours with the lightest of pressure and the heaviest of longing in his chest. With every fast breath he lowered himself a touch more down on you, unable to help the temptation to simply be near and locked to you, to feel that sweet heat you gave off across the whole length of his body.

Loki took a second, risking you question of him not moving or demand he get off, staying on top of you with lips trailing just above your cheek...

When your eyes did open they immediately looked behind Loki, spurring you on to scramble up off the cracking vibrating floor. Loki turned, seeing the ooze coming up like a tidal wave about to crash down on you both.

Immediately (for the second time tonight already) he ripped you up from the ground into his arms, racing for the door. He threw himself against it and kicked it closed just as the slime was about to breach the threshold and drown you both.

The force back his kick made ended up pushing you both to the ground, your legs ending up over his lap, head on his shoulder, and back pinning his arm. Your soaked body was practically clinging to him with the slime. The pair of you took a moment together, breathing at your second narrow escape of the night.

“Just don’t tell Clint I thought this was scary, okay?” you said between breaths.

Loki just nodded as you lay there, you focusing instead on wiping slime from your face and arms though you didn’t move to get off him just yet. Loki practically hummed to himself, relishing the feel of your body and legs draped over him and your wet thigh under his hand. Slime covered or not, your skin still felt as great as he knew it would be.

That was the moment he knew he simply loved Halloween.

The next room was in a small but long lab, mostly used as overflow for any big projects Bruce and Tony were working on in the main lab.

This time when you stepped in, you were already holding Loki’s hand, not taking any chances this time. Just as he was hoping. And if he had anything to do about it, that closeness would only increase with each scare. So cautiously and hand-in-hand, you two entered.

The room was bright white and completely empty. As in there was nothing in it at all. No lab equipment to speak of or tables or chairs or fixtures or even outlets. The ceiling was basically a panel of frosted glass serving as one blinding light, while the floors and walls were the same huge white tiles. Nothing else at all.

“Well, this has a vague asylum feel to it,” you said, trying to rationalize what whoever set this up was going for. “Minus the padded walls.”

“Quite underwhelming,” Loki said, looking around, hand still holding onto yours, doing his best to slow his softly moving fingers against your skin.

“Not for long kids!” said Tony’s voice over the speaker, jolting you right up to Loki’s side.

A thin panel quick came down over the door you entered, preventing any escape for whatever Tony had planned, leaving the only escape at the very far end of the room. A moment later you heard a grinding machinery type noise, followed by some loud whirling. It was instantly accompanied by the walls starting to move in.

“Oh great!” you half shrieked, grabbing Loki and running.

But you only made it a few steps when a terribly loud bang from behind the walls sounded, knocking you both to the side and up against the wall. You immediately stumbled back from it, as now the once slowly moving walls were suddenly moving a mile a minute.

“Oh, I regret suggesting this stupid idea!” you yelled into the deafening whirling room, neither of you able to get even footing as you were forced back. “I regret everything in my life leading up to this moment! I regret Tony Stark ever being born!”

In second your back hit the opposing wall, coming up fast to meet you. You kicked out your legs, trying to keep the other wall from moving anymore and crushing you, but it was no use. A few second later you held your arms out against it, the space shrinking so fast you were practically blinded by panic.

Before the wall could reach you, Loki moved from your side to in front of you, your chest to his, bracing one wall with his forearms and one with his back. But even then it wasn’t enough, Loki having to settle for wrapping his arms around you.

Another loud bang and crack sounded, the walls stopping their movement in a jarring lurch. The whirled stopped suddenly, leaving the two of you positively pinned to each other, the only sound in the sudden silence being the breath passing between you.

“Well, holy shit,” Tony sounded after a few moments. You would have jumped at the sound if you could have moved in any way at all. “No idea what in hell happened, but I am fixing it right now, I swear! Don’t die, okay bye.”

There really was nothing to do but stand. You were pressed completely flushed against Loki, barely able to even breathe much less move under him. The cold wall at your back gave you no opportunity to move away. His warm body was lined up with yours, the force of it just on the right side of bearable.

Your legs were a tangle together, hips pinned to hips, stomach and chest pressed to each other, one of your arms caught between you the other stuck to your side as Loki’s arms wrapped around you.

“I’m beginning to think this was a bad idea,” you mumbled half-heartedly into his shoulder, not in any way sure if the butterflies and stomach turning was from sheer panic or having the Asgardian so skin-warmingly close.

A soft, low chuckle breathed down your ear and neck, Loki’s head leaned down and lips brushing your cheek.

“No, my little mortal,” he whispered, chest moving with yours hand and arms circling you tightly. “I think you bit off far more than you can chew with this one.”

“Can’t believe my first bad idea will actually be the death of me,” you chuckled nervously, trying to ease the palpable tension at the sudden and extreme closeness you had yet to experience with him.

Your teammate and friend he may be, but that hardly meant you found yourself in this type of situation ever. It was making you positively dizzy.

That laughter ended up with the tiniest squeak from you as Loki tried to shift, the smallest amount of additional pressure stifling. You tried to ignore how beautifully nice it was to have a cool body against yours, the heat flooding your system about to do you under.

“Am I hurting you, darling?” he whispered to you in response to your tiny surprised whimper.

“I…” you started, thankful at least you could hide into his shoulder. “I think a little maybe.”

A few beats passed before he spoke, delicately hushed voice in your ear.

“Then it’s time we left, I believe.”

He moved both his body on the front of your and his hands behind you, leaving you pressed and pulled into him. You turned up to Loki quickly, eyes wide and nose brushing his, about to speak before he cut you off.

“If I can get my hands loose,” he started, green eyes completely filling your view. “I’ll push against the wall and we see about breaking free, hmm?”

You swallowed and nodded once, tip of your nose lightly touching his. He held your stare a moment before shifting again, hands eventually pulling free.

Putting them up against the wall with his cheek leaned down to yours, he pushed. The groaning mechanics behind the wall protested, metal screeching and electronics popping out sharp snaps of sound. Loki breathed heavily in your ear, making a show of exerting himself in effort before with a booming crash the wall fell away.

The sudden loss of pressure against your back caused to you to stumble backwards with the wall, almost hitting the floor before cool strong arms caught you, bring you nose to nose with Loki yet again.

He said nothing, just looked at you as you watched him, the smallest and contentest smile on his face.

The next room was… well, different than the others.

The two of you stopped a couple feet in looking around with pulled together brows and similarly confused expressions.

“Is this…” you started, narrowing your eyes. “Did someone recreate Clint’s bedroom?”

There was about a hundred dirty socks, underwear, and old flannel shirts around a lumpy mattress of a bed and scattered across the entire floor. That was pretty much it. It was minimal to say the least.

“I’ll bet you a hundred dollars that Bucky and Sam teamed up to do… this,” you said, pointing out around the room which also included a waste bin in the corner filled with old fruit peels and half-empty milk containers.

“I… have nothing.” Loki said, giving up on what exactly to do with this mess.

“Next?” you said, stepping up to him perhaps closer than you usually did, he thought.

“Please,” Loki said looking to one corner over your shoulder. “Because I do believe they actually put vermin in here.”

You looked over your shoulder to the corner in question, see a bit of movement there too.

“Or the rats just followed the smell from Clint’s actual bedroom…”

Another pitch black room. This time you had wrapped Loki’s arm around your waist and the other went to your hip, pressing fingers and palms into you. Loki was deliciously breathing you in, trying to think of all the delightful ways he could draw his night out. Or perhaps he would just have to resort to scaring you more often?

The thought brought him to an edge, where one side lay the addicting closeness brought on from scaring you, and the other side the soul-warming feeling of protecting you from fear. He wanted the best of both and he’d find a way to get it.

An otherworldly wail built up from the ground in the darkness, and instantly in his arms, you froze.

A whispery white flash moved just out of sight to the your left, and you closed your eyes tightly for a moment before opening them again. Somehow, Loki noticed, you were already more scared than any other room, and he had only barely gotten started. Your skin had turned a bit colder, muscles tight and body stiff, breath shallow and shaky.

Another whip of white to the right and your nails dug into his flesh. Loki loved that feeling, wanting those nail to trance down his bare back…

In full view a devilish looking wraith came flying at the pair of you, shrieking furiously in the darkness.

A blood curdling scream erupted from you, quite unlike the ones you had made previously tonight, instantly turning and clutching into Loki with all the strength you had. You positively buried yourself into Loki’s neck, trying your best it seemed to keep from screaming.

“Loki, I hate ghosts,” you whispered, an octave lower than your usual tone and certainly not at all stable. “I hate them, I’m terrified. Please don’t do this, please just get me out?”

Loki stood there, a little surprised at this. Quick as always he wondered if by your words you knew what game he was playing, or if he had simply taken this too far. He hadn’t know you’d have this reaction though. Instantly he snapped his fingers and the ghosts that had suddenly filled the room left.

Loki lifted you easily, carrying you bridal style through the room and out of it. You didn’t look up, didn’t move from your clutching position in his arms, muscles still tense.

The bright and blissfully normal looking hallway on the other side was filled with Avengers, all trying to figure out what the hell happened tonight and also who had won. From the groups voices and yelling and arguments you heard Thor boom above the rest calling out for Loki in that frustrated motherly way he did, trying to search the crowd and rooms for his brother.

Loki took you down a quiet hall away from the commotion, setting your feet down and leaning you back against the wall. His hands went to your neck, his thumbs pushing your chin up to look at him, his face leaned down barely an inch away from yours.

“The ghosts were a little far, I think,” you said weakly, trying to swallow down some of the fear. What you didn’t do was move away though, sticking close and leaning into his touch. “It may not have taken much, but that was enough of your tricks, I thought.”

“When did you figure it out?” Loki asked, a bit of smug pride that his source of affection and longing saw through the little scheme (yet still let him have his fun, at least until the end).

“The first room, Loki,” you said in an obvious tone with bit of a shaky grin. “Werewolves don’t exist here. Neither does The Blob. And you’re Asgardian by the way, so I don’t doubt if you really wanted out of a room with closing walls you’d just do it and a lot faster. Now, Clint’s dirty gym clothes? That was definitely real and certainly terrifying.”

You chuckled to yourself at your own joke and Loki couldn’t help but watch you, his enjoyment coming from your own.

“Now,” you said, looking a bit more serious. “You’re not usually a jerk… To me anyway. So do you want to tell me what you were trying to do tonight?” You took a deep breath and sighed into him, your body completely flush to his and heavy lidded eyes matching his. “To scare me away, or scare me close?”

“Close, darling,” he whispered, hands moving to pull your lips to his.

Loki leaned in just as you did, closing the infinitesimally small distance together. That electric jolt of pleasure when he touched you was nothing compared to this, his heart and body lighting up like a birth of a new star. Your calming, easy energy shifted to match his fiery one in that moment as your lips moved against his. He was met with a wanting that matched his, a fever that rivalled his own. He was drunk on you in a moment, only retaining the barest of controls as he held your mortal little body under his own.

Pulling away he breathed your air, revelling in it, finally getting what he wanted and knowing he was not about to let it go. That place of longing inside him purred at the connection, deciding to fall on the side of protecting you from fear.

“I should have planned this earlier,” you said, hushed and lids still low with a lingering wanting that Loki was drowning in. “If I had known this was all it would take to get you to kiss me like that.”

“What do you mean?” Loki asked, unable to help grinning at that gleam in your eyes others often saw in his own eyes. Usually it meant pure mischief in him, but with you, there was an undeniable added hint of kindness. “You purposely wanted me to do all this? To frighten you like this, all for a kiss?”

“Of course,” you said, leaning up to kiss him again gently, lingering there just above his lips. Even that small touch made his breath hold in his chest. “I might be sweet but I have some tricks up my sleeve too. Especially on Halloween.”

A/N: Happiest of Halloweens darlings! This was my first Loki fic so I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought?? A reblog or message would make my day!

Permanent Tags: @dontpanc, @smodvocate, @bunsterjonez, @buckybonky, @marveloustrashpanda, @hangirl93, @captainrogerrsbeard, @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen, @thisgirllikeme, @jjsoccer11, @innerpandablizzard-blog, @fanatic-fanfic, @mdgrdians, @christinky, @universal-death-of-a-fangirl, @cauraphernelia, @ailynalonso15, @cassiopeia-barrow, @1elboomdemsechevarria, @cameronskywalker, @rogrsnbarnes, @verygraphicink, @onlyanothersocialcasualty

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 30

“Just one more bite?” Jared waved the fork with the last piece of cheesecake in front of her, “Oh no, cheesecake for lunch and it's not even noon yet, if we keep going like this, a crane is gonna have to hoist me up to the ceiling, remember that little fat boy in Charlie and the chocolate factory?..I mean, you can just stick that piece of cheesecake straight on my ass, that's where it's gonna end up anyway” she leaned back with her hand on her stomach. “That's ok, I love your ass! Don't get me started on your ass, or I might just schlep you back to the hotel and have my wicked way with you there again, it's a healthy diet you know, sex morning, noon and night” he grinned and licked the piece of cheesecake seductively before he pushed it in his mouth. “Careful what you wish for, because if it keeps snowing like this, we just might be condamned to doing just that” she frowned as she looked out of the window where outside the snow was coming down heavily, the entire circus was travelling up north today, thank god they were working with two stages and two different crews, maybe she could suggest for Sean to be working on the first stage while she worked on the second, that would be such a relief. “Naahh, the show must go on, it always does” he still looked at the snow with those big, boyish blue eyes that perfectly reflected the icy blue outside, “have I told you how happy I am with what you have done to my show? I mean, you singlehandedly turned what started out as a disaster into a giant success, and what a success, did you see that crowd last night? It was absolutely mental!” the 10 year old boy went into full on modus. “Of course I was right there above you, remember? That was all you and Shannon who did it, your energy was through the roof, I loved seeing my man on stage and so did another couple of thousand girls along with me” she grinned “are they usually this..enthusiastic?”. Jared leaned back in his seat, this had always been a real touchy subject in the past “Uhmm..yeah, they're a wild bunch” please don't ask me about the gazillion times that all that enthusiasm was translated in the bedroom, that's the past, you're a fresh start. “Oh I see..that uncomfortable huh? Ok, well..let's talk about something else then”, what? You're not gonna judge or be suspicious? “I'll say this one thing though” she leaned over the table “can you not do it again for as long as we're an item? I'm just not that good at sharing I'm afraid”, he swallowed hard when he heard her say that..good, because I absolutely refuse to share you too. “And I guess it is expected of me to fly under the radar? to be a ghost on this tour?” that stung, not her words but the reality of it, “keep 'em keen, keep 'em dreaming of that rockstar prince charming that'll suddenly appear all single at their doorstep, I understand, it sells more tickets and more albums..” his hand shot over the table in a flash to cover her mouth. “Stop!..don't..you're mine, do you hear me? Mine, and I don't care who knows, I'm not gonna hide you, Harper, no fuckin' way” he sternly said, like he had suddenly lost his sense of humour. “It's not like I've been hiding you these last couple of days..we've been holding hands in public for everyone to see..I mean, I haven't done that since..Cameron..” he pulled his hand back from her mouth, “oh wow so I got the VIP treatment then” Harper snarked but then his phone rang again ending their little squabble.

To emphasize what he had just told her, he ostentatiously took her hand in his and started walking, despite the snow the city had come alive “you're shivering” he looked at her as he tried to keep them both upright on the slippery sidewalk. Duh, when was she supposed to go shopping for another coat? It's not like she had the time, or the money for that matter, “come on” he steered her towards some fancy boutique, wait a minute..oh what a beautiful coat..no, no, I can't possibly afford this. “I love it, do you?” Jared nodded approvingly from his seat as she walked out of the cubicle that bursted at the seams with new, shockingly cool outfits she had just tried on, “don't make me do this, Jared, of course I love it, I love it all”. All of a sudden he got up and walked off without a word, wait, where are you going? no..NO.. she tried to follow him but was held back by one of the shop assistants who was asking her in German if she wanted to try that other outfit on as well. No, she didn't want to try anything on anymore, leave me alone, where was he? Had he left? “get dressed, we should go” he suddenly appeared again with some kind of annoyed expression on his face as he sat down again, took his phone and focused on that while she retreated back inside the cubicle, what the hell was going on?. She quickly changed and zipped up her leather perfecto, grabbed her bag and rushed out to find Jared standing at the door already still on his phone, “trouble? Something wrong with the lights?” What else could it be? Oh wait, maybe Sean had started another mindfuck with lies about last night, she grabbed his arm to steady herself as she stepped out onto the icy pavement. “No” he didn't even turn around to face her “nothing wrong with the lights” he waited until she was steady again and started walking, “if this is about Sean and last night, then..” she gasped as he suddenly stopped in his tracks and this time he did turn around to look at her, oh that frown, it wasn't Sean, fuck, she was in trouble. “Last night and Sean? I don't like the combination of that name and those words..I was with you last night..” he squinted his eyes seeing how pale she suddenly had become, “we were at the club together..” she could barely catch her breath as she saw the wheels in his head turn “you went back to the hotel early..and he was there too?..was that why you went back to your room instead of mine?..so you could meet up with him?..”. Harper shook her head “No, no of course not..” she tried to stay calm and explain, but she felt her anger rise, without even asking what had happened he put the blame immediately with her? “wow ok, silly me for thinking 'I love you' also meant 'I trust you', but clearly I was wrong, I'm going back to the hotel, I'm freezing and I'm upset and I sure don't want to keep discussing this out here on the street, I don't think we're that public yet, are we?”. Her eyes were shooting daggers at him before she turned and ploughed to the edge of the sidewalk, whistled through her teeth and the cab stopped right in front of her, “wait..Harper wait” he rushed towards her, “you know what, you take the frikkin cab, I'll walk, I need to let off some steam” she pulled open the door and then turned on her heels and stomped away from him, leaving him completely stunned.

He sat there in her room on the bed where they had sex only this morning, and now...maybe Sean had..no, stop it, just stop it, stop assuming things, she's the only one who can explain..where was she? Out in the cold somewhere on her own..it hadn't been a real fight, just a misunderstanding. Cold to the core and with frozen fingers she put the keycard in the lock, but stopped in her tracks when she opened the door and saw him sit there on the bed that was littered with a gazillion paper bags. “Babe” he shot up and walked up to her, “what's all this? We leaving already?” her teeth clapped as she talked, “no..not yet anyway..their yours” he took a step back so she could see the rest. Frowning she looked inside one of the bags, the coat she loved so much..and in that one those shoes.., “I wanted to surprise you, so while you got dressed, I told the shopkeeper to bag everything up and have it delivered to your room”. Oh fuck.., “I just wanted to play it cool, that's why I acted a little cold, and that was stupid..” he forced a nervous smile, while she sat down on the bed, refusing to look at him, “yes, yes it was definitely stupid” she sighed and rubbed her frozen hands on her thighs, she was awfully quiet. “I don't want us to fight, babe” he sat down next to her, “that wasn't a fight, Jared” she hung her head and tried not to let the tears roll, ��that was a glimpse of my difficult side, so you can still run if you want” she sniffed. Was she crying? he was brave enough to grab her frozen hand and kiss it “I love you, Harper and I trust you, I was a dumbass..don't cry, please”. Harper pulled her hand back and zipped open her perfecto “Who says I'm crying? crying is for the weakhearted, I'm just defrosting, that's all” duh, as if she was gonna let her feelings show, oh no, it was way too early in this relationship for that, besides Daddy raised her well, no show of emotions, emotions were wasted on fools only. “Don't walk out on me like that again, please?” Jared helped pull off her jacket, “I won't walk out on you if you stop assuming and accusing me of things” she calmly said as she started pulling up her hair, still not looking at him.

“Deal! So..can we start over?” he grabbed her hand and shook it “Hi, I'm Jared and I'm a weakhearted fool”, smart move to defuse the situation, floppy hair, that and the puppy eyes she just couldn't resist “you forgot 'dumbass' as in 'weakhearted fool and dumbass for not trusting my girl' “ she slowly put her head on his shoulder, oh thank god, she called it truce. “I do trust you..I just don't trust Sean” he put his arm around her and kissed her hair, “yeah well, let's not talk about that, because the entire topic disgusts me” she grabbed his hand now, what had that asshole done to her? no, she doesn't want to talk about it, then don't, let's do this her way, no matter how much effort that took. “Instead, let's talk about these clothes..” she looked at the bags on the bed behind them “you do know I can't accept them”, a devious smile formed around his lips “you're right, you can't, I prefer you completely naked too” his hand drifted under her shirt while he leaned in for a kiss. “Well played, mister” she smiled against his lips “close but no cigar..just yet! “ she cheekily squeezed the bulge in his pants and stood up to give the bags a closer inspection, oh she loved them, she loved them all but..it was just too much. “Come on, of course you can accept them, it's just money” he got up too and pushed his chest against her back, folding his arms around her waist, “I don't need your money, I need your trust, your love..your friendship” she put his hands over his. “You do have all that..I promise..” he kissed the back of her neck “just accept the clothes and right now all I need is for you to make love to me, let's end this little tug of war in bed” he turned her around in his arms and seized her mouth while his warm hands pushed down the back of her pants, squeezing that firm, perky butt of hers.

”Oh god, woman, what the fuck are you doing to me?” he put his hand on his forehead while she curled up against him, caressing his chest lazily while their bodies were tingling in post-coital bliss. “Fuck is the perfect word for what just happened, I know for a fact that you're not too old to not remember what we just did, because if you were too old then you certainly wouldn't be doing what you just did anymore” she grinned a lazy kiss against his chest. “How is it that in all those years, I've never felt this..I don't know..I just don't know what it is you're doing, but it feels like I'm completely losing my sanity, my control..everything..and it scares me..because I love having and being in control..” he breathed, it wasn't just the tightness of her pussy, the lusciousness of her body, the thrill of biting and kissing those full lips, the warmth of her heart or the magnitude of her mysteriousness, no it was all that mixed with the depth of her soul, the brilliance of her mind and the breathtaking beauty that she was. “I know you love control, didn't you just prove to me how much in control you are? Who's boss? Who's the dominant alpha male? Because my bruised butt sure is telling me that you've got me in complete and utter submission, and I love it” she grinned but then there was the inevitable knock on the door. “I'll go..” he pushed a last kiss on her head and slowly let go of her, he wanted to be chained up to this bed for a thousand years..he couldn't help but turn around at the door and feel his heart explode with love and desire when he watched her do that cute little nosescratch again before she curled up again and buried her head in her pillow..did they really need to travel this afternoon? Really?. The knocking on the door became a little bit more impatient, taking a deep breath he closed his eyes for a second, go away Shayla, just go away, lock us up in this room and throw away the key..sighing deeply he finally turned and plodded back towards the cold, blonde, bitchy reality.

[whatamessz]

Fic “Take my Head”

Welllllll back in october @dreaming-powder and I talked about kink- and goretober and I…erm… wasted an opportunity started this thing which was sitting in my drafts since then, mocking me. Lately I’m extremely frustrated with my writing and it totally shows, but I had to finally get this out or it would haunt me. Sorry I kinda trashed your prompt ;_;

Summary: 10 Million years late to the Garage Palace Party, PWP loosely based on the visualizer.

Cleaned up and edited version on AO3.

3563 words | rating: explicit | 2Doc | 2D’s POV | TW: mentions  of   contagious disease, graphic content, injuries, blood, zombies | beware extremely flat critisism of governmental power structures and oral sex

2D sat on the mattress, perched up against the wall, his head put back against his neck. The blood from his nose finally must have stopped flowing, but the vague luminescence of the glow-in-the-dark-stars they had adhered to the ceiling in an attempt to make the storage unit more cozy was mesmerizing enough to keep staring.

The garage – located somewhere in the suburbs in a former small town in Essex, of all places – was their current hide out. It had been scarcely furnished already, but almost everything they’d brought in was tossed over or broken now. 2D couldn’t care in this moment. His head and his ribs hurt and he could taste his own blood in the back of his throat. His shirt and hands were stained red too. No handkerchiefs in the post apocalypse.

He mulled over his momentary situation. They lived in a storage unit because these days, safe living space was a resource everyone craved. That’s why the improvised military government had confiscated every inhabitable home with the ultimate plan to clear and declare the houses as secure for redistribution to the surviving population of the country. Up until now, this didn’t really happen. However, this and several other measures taken were ultimately just a leverage on the people to consolidate their position and suppress rioting. At least, that was how Russel had explained it to them. 2D had found that fairly persuasive since, if you wanted a home or just shelter, food rations, medical care, clean water and relative safety, you were told to go to The Refuges first.

The Refuges, where it could be made sure you wouldn’t carry or infect yourself with the O-virus and cause a new outbreak again. The Refuges where you could be surveilled and where the disease, whatever that meant, was annihilated and were you could wait for the promised piece of safety and normality you so hoped for.

The Refuges were a lie. The Refuges were horrible. The Refuges were a place where you got your most basic needs fulfilled, as long as you played along the rules the government set and accepted everything they provided to you in their grace. The Refuges were a place, where people in need, in fear and in pain lived together on smallest spaces, perishing on the wait for things to come. The Refuges were a pool to recruit workers to rebuild this glorious nation on nothing but promises of a shining future. The Refuges were a tool and a field of experimentation to see in what infinitesimal bits you could split a society and still rule them in an economic effective way. The Refuges were a place where, once you’d arrived out of free will or pure desperation, you were meant to stay and wait for your assigned purpose.

That was why they’d left. Secretly and in hurry from the great Royal Refuge of South London. In 2D’s opinion it was ridiculous to even call a camp like that. Nobody had heard from a queen or a king in years.

He didn’t like to think back on their time there or the night they had fled. It usually brought back vivid nightmares and he curled in a little just from the thought. However, they weren’t the only people who had managed to leave. There were also still many who never went to a Refuge in the first place.

They all more or less tried flying under the radar through wildly dispersing over the country side where people tried their luck in the less crowded areas. From time to time, there were raids rumored to be initiated from the government, but it was impossible to keep all of the scattered population in check, so they had decided the unruly-people-problem would likely regulate itself if they didn’t guarantee protection from remaining zombies, mobs and catastrophes like the “accidental” wild fires in summer. The government had made it clear, that everything outside the camps and greater cities was lawless land.

Partially, they had been right. The waves of roaming zombies admittedly had declined in the last two years, but with hierarchy temporarily so disassembled, people started testing.

So far, two main forms of social coexistence had become especially apparent: community building and gang building. The communities were extremely guarded and with the increasing pressure from the government, their biggest problem was their relative inflexibility. The bad thing with the gangs was, they weren’t usually friendly. Like everyone, they fought for survival and they took what they could find to ensure that. Sometimes – often – that meant stealing from other people. Like them.

Against all odds, Noodle, Russel, Murdoc and 2D had somehow managed to survive the zombie outbreak together, but they weren’t part of a community, nor of a gang. Or maybe they were their own gang minus the robbing people part. Mostly he was fine with this, but in moments like this the flaws of this state of being became apparent to 2D.

He flinched when he heard steps approaching outside that interrupted his train of thoughts. For a moment, he was afraid the group of rowdies would return, but it was only one pair of feet this time. He could see the familiar boots emerge under the half open roller blind before it was pulled up a bit more and Murdoc strode in. His left side was widely covered in blood, the scythe casually draped over his shoulder and he was smiling widely like a manic death god.

“Daddy’s home, children,” he announced himself enthusiastically and with the greyish light that came in from behind he looked like the legend he was known as in these suburbs and 2D briefly wondered if the blokes would have attacked Gorillaz makeshift headquarters if they would have known it was Murdoc’s too.

Well… who was he trying to convince? They probably would have anyway.

“Hey,” 2D greeted him and his voice sounded thick and nasal.

Murdoc’s atomic smile faltered visibly when he took in the state of the garage unit and finally the state of 2D. He growled exasperated.

“Bunch’a gangsters stopped by to check if we got anything interesting to loot.”

“Those fucking thugs that recently roam around in our territory?”

Their territory? Ok, maybe they really were a gang now and he didn’t notice.

2D just shrugged, taking in Murdoc’s appearance. His jeans and dirty white shirt were lavishly adorned with reddish brown splashes, so the evidence he had just offed a few flesh eaters was right there, but the scythe’s blade had already been polished back to its shiny menace. 2D knew, theoretically, Murdoc had just been checking and clearing on their supplies stash, but when the man came back looking every inch the anti-hero of one of those zombie films 2D had so loved before all this, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm and excited tuck deep in his belly. Murdoc had never looked healthier or more alive since most people around him were (un)dead. The scythe was a statement too, of course. When the outbreak came, it was just a quick defense tool he had grabbed from their requisites, but over time Murdoc had proven to be surprisingly skilled with it and because it fitted his shitty goth aesthetic like nothing else, he ultimately chose the scythe as his signature weapon.

2D could honestly understand how it made an impression on people when Murdoc came out of nowhere, slicing his way through rotting bodies like a hot wire through cheese, scattering organs everywhere, laughing like a lunatic and disappearing after his “work” was done. It sure made an impression on 2D.

“Took our torchlights. And the pillow,” 2D reported contritely. “But they left the sleeping bags at least.”

Murdoc send a string of curses while he was walking through the mess. He kicked aside broken glass on his way over and sat back up a shelf they had made from old apple crates.

“I knew it was a good idea to keep our important supplies hidden elsewhere,” he mumbled.

He leaned the scythe to the wall and took off the bag he had carried. He shad his heavy leather jacket too before he plopped down on the mattress next to 2D with a sigh.

Curious, 2D examined Murdoc from the closer range. He could see now how Murdoc got spatters of dried blood on his face and in his hair as well.

“You’ve got blood everywhere,” 2D stated his observation, the mild concern obvious in his voice.

“Could say the same about you. ’S not mine though,” Murdoc answered with a lopsided grin on his withering face. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick some of it from his upper lip cockily. 2D shivered. The only good thing they had brought back from the Refuges were the vaccinations against the O-Virus.

“Good,” 2D just offered exhaling, gaze drifting back up to the glowing plastic stars. Murdoc then gently grabbed his chin to indulge in his own studies on 2D’s injuries.

“Too bad we lost the torches. The light’s crap in here. No deeper cuts? Nothing’s broken? Just a busted nose and a split lip?”

2D watched him intently. He liked it when Murdoc cared for him. A little too much maybe.

“Fuck, you look so hot like this, you know that,” he muttered out. In the same breath of air, he silently cursed his dumb brain.

Murdoc watched him apprehensively for just a heartbeat longer.  Then he smirked.

“Yes,” he said. “Plus, slashing zombies makes me incredible horny.”

2D only had time to blink before he felt Murdoc’s lips on his own, noses crushing together and it hurt, but all of a sudden everything he wanted was more of this to take him out of his miserable boredom. The cut on his lip burned with sensation that made his heart pick up its pace. He could taste the coppery savor again, but this time so intensely it made his stomach churn.  The imagination of the blood on their lips mixing buzzed through his head and he sighed softly into the kiss. The knowledge that this was zombie blood made him feel ill as much as it turned him on in a weird way. One should think that the actual outbreak of the apocalypse would have cured him of his weird kinks, but after they had settled in what could be considered a relatively quiet life under these circumstances and the zombies and their spreading disease weren’t the biggest thread anymore, he had learned that this wasn’t the case. Quite the opposite.

Murdoc chuckled lowly in response to his sigh and retreated for a second to check on him.

“We need to clean you up later” he suggested. 2D put a hand up Murdoc’s neck, gently brushing the thumb over the bassist’s face and leaving a bloody smear on his hollow, stubbly cheek in the process. They would have to beg Noodle for her gas cooker to heat some water when she was back.  

Murdoc put his hands around 2D’s waist and pulled him closer, 2D straddling his legs, before he dove in again and licked teasingly slow over the cut on his lip. That elicited a sharp hiss from the former singer and Murdoc used the opportunity to pry his mouth open with his tongue a little further.

2D felt dull pain pulsating through his nose when he needed to take deeper breaths now, but he managed to work around this issue and let Murdoc explore his mouth. He could feel his tongue rub and suck along the tender gum where his front teeth used to be a lifetime ago. His eyes fell shut and he let out an appreciative moan now.

Spurred by this, Murdoc let a cool hand wander under 2D’s stripy shirt and up his sore ribcage, where a heavy boot had kicked him not quite one hour ago before the five gang members had buggered off again. 2D flinched slightly at the gentle contact and opened his eyes. Murdoc didn’t immediately stop kissing him, but his expression was knitted in disapproval when he glanced up questioningly.

2D shook his head slightly. “’S nothin’, just be careful,” he whispered, not wanting to stop this. He gave Murdoc’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. For a brief second, he thought about the fact that the roller blind still was half up, but their mattress was tucked away enough in a corner of the unit and hidden behind a now depleted shelf. He just had to remember to keep quiet. He also hoped that Noodle and Russel wouldn’t return from their tour or that other unannounced guests wouldn’t like to pay a visit again right now.

“Painkillers may be rare, but daddy’s got something else for your ouchies,” Murdoc purred into his ear, which caused 2D to back off a bit with a snicker.

“Woah don’t you think I didn’t notice how you tried to establish that daddy shit again in the first place,” he said defiantly. “Daddy kink is not going to happen in this garage, you old letch.”

Murdoc looked at him, eyes torn wide open in mock offence. “So I am the letch now, am I? Then remind me again who initiated this, huh? Besides, you still look like you ate out Bloody Mary, so don’t give me shit on my humble peculiarities.”

2D shot him a sour look. Of course, he couldn’t really see Murdoc’s eyebrows under the heavy fringe, but he still could guess the suggestive wiggle he offered in return.

“Didn’t you just confirm right in front of me that you get a hard-on from slaying zombies?”

Murdoc shrugged. “You get a hard-on from watching me slaying zombies, so I think that’s a tie. What brings me back to the point at which we just stopped,” Murdoc countered and let him slip from his thighs to lean back against the wall again.

Murdoc fixed him there with a cunning gaze, then kneeled in front of him and slowly slid the pair of braces down from his wife beater shirt. 2D felt himself swallow down a heavy lump in his throat. Murdoc pushed his thighs apart and leaned down into him again for a deep and longing kiss. The fuck he looked like he ate out Bloody Mary, he thought while his pounding nose reminded him that Murdoc was probably right, but he had an appetite for something entirely else now. He started fondling the front of Murdoc’s jeans, but his fingers were batted away gently. Instead, he felt how Murdoc pulled up his bloodstained shirt a bit and fiddled with his fly. Relatively clueless on what exactly he was trying to attempt, 2D still felt how he and his dick grew more and more impatient. A violent shiver ran through his body when Murdoc’s tongue and lips left his mouth and wandered down his jaw and neck to suck little bites here and there. His fingers were wandering up 2D’s good side now and starting to tease his nipple with soft brushes. When Murdoc finally managed to undo the zipper and lost no time shoving his hand down 2D’s underpants, he already whimpered soft little chirps into the twilight of their storage unit.

Murdoc finally stopped the work on his neck and looked up at him, wearing an expression that made 2D a little nervous. He slid his thumps under the waistband of 2D’s pants and wiggled them down with some effort. 2D’s erection sprung free and Murdoc watched it admiringly for a short moment before he lowered himself onto his belly and dug his nose into 2D’s blue trail to happiness, inhaling the scent that, given their current circumstances, was probably a bit stronger than he’d have liked. Murdoc didn’t seem to care one bit though. 2D put his head back against the wall and looked pleadingly up to the weak light of the plastic stars.

“Shit, I was thinking about you the whole way back. How you’d just wait for me, bored out of you mind curtesy to your sprained ankle. Nothing to do but just wait for me and my ready ass. Letting daddy bring home some nice presents,” Murdoc mused and adorned every few words with a kiss to his belly and hipbones.

2D rolled his eyes and huffed. “Yeah I bet you wish, perv. You just make this shit up on the spot.” He had wanted his answer to sound keen, but it might have come out a little needier than he liked. He planned on further commenting Murdoc’s half-assed attempt of dirty talking him, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a clipped moan because the former bassist silenced him effectively by taking the tip of his cock into his mouth and giving it a hard lick. A second lick made 2D buck, so Murdoc dug his hands into his hips to press them down and take more of his dick into his mouth.

2D’s breath hitched and he put his hands on Murdoc’s shoulders, guiding him further down. Murdoc let out an appreciative grunt and looked up to him.

They knew each other long enough now that 2D could tell how Murdoc was suppressing the urge to stop and make a sassy comment, so he planted a hand into that thick hair and pressed him down a little further.

“Don’t you dare stopping now, Mister Niccals, better hurry up a little,” he commanded breathily and could see the conflict flaring up in Murdoc’s eyes for a brief moment.

Luckily, this time the urge for retaliation expressed itself in the form of deep swallowing, so he closed his eyes with a gasp and put his head back against the wall.

Murdoc’s head bopped back up again and 2D could feel his tongue licking the downside of his dick before it swirled around his head so slowly and with just the right amount of pressure to make him squirm so much Murdoc had to clutch his hips again.

2D tried to hold back his moans through clenched teeth as Murdoc continued to go up and down his length again.

Lust filled the crisp air of the garage and his breathing got more erratic with every minute this continued. He felt himself getting closer soon despite the relatively easygoing tempo his lover stroke.

When another moan slipped from his throat, he bit his lip in frustration, forgetting about the injury. He hissed sharply and could taste freshly dawn blood.

“I think I’m close,” 2D warned, voice gradually higher, but all Murdoc did was casting him an unimpressed look through his fringe and carrying on in his determined task. His toes curled in his sneakers and he lost Murdoc’s name and a few sighs along the process.

Suddenly, Murdoc hollowed his cheeks when he lifted his head up once again, put his tongue to the tip of his head and let it glide firmly over his leaking slit.

“Ah- Da-,” 2D could clutch the hand over his mouth just in time before the word slipped over his lips. Conveniently, it also swallowed the obscenely loud groan that wanted to escape his throat when he finally came and to his own shame, he couldn’t entirely exclude the possibility that his orgasm came so quickly because of how he surprised himself in this embarrassing way.

When Murdoc came back up at him, rubbing his mouth clean with the back of his hand, he positively beamed.

“Wipe that stupid grin right off your face, I was caught up in the moment,” 2D pouted, still audibly out of breath.

Naturally, Murdoc didn’t wipe his grin off, but started an obnoxious chuckle when he was done swallowing. “Oh no, ‘D, forget it. I heard that and it will be etched into my memory until the day you dig my grave.”

2D, to high on post-orgasmic dopamine to come up with a swift response, shoved his face away playfully.

“Still not establishing a Daddy kink,” he stated decidedly with a glare.

“You’ll get used to it.” Murdoc’s grin still seemed inextinguishable.

2D considered simply ignoring him while he was about to tuck himself back into his trousers, but then he turned his head around to face Murdoc again before he zipped up.

He crawled closer to Murdoc, preying grin suddenly plastered on his own face. “Or perhaps,” he started and came to a halt so close in front of Murdoc’s lips that he could feel their breaths mixing, foreheads almost pressed together. Murdoc’s face twisted up in expectation. That’s when 2D starts gradually pressing Murdoc down on the mattress with on hand to his chest, faces still close. “Or perhaps we switch up the expectation about who calls who a ‘daddy’,” 2D cooed and he could feel Murdoc swallow when he hit the mattress.

2D shifted to lick the zombie blood from his cheek and heard a low approving growl from beneath him. Murdoc’s ribcage touched his when he took a deep breath.

“Well, last time I counted we still had eight condoms left. So maybe make a use of them before we have to go on a new raid,” Murdoc suggested with a smirk.

“Yes. And maybe we should close the blind soon,” he said before he engaged him in a hungry kiss that made his battered lip and ribs hurt so sweetly.

[analyzingdestiel]

DESTIEL REVIEW FOR 5x3: FREE TO BE YOU AND ME

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SCENE 1

DEAN dampens a washcloth in the motel room sink and starts to clean his jacket. CASTIEL appears behind him. DEAN sees him in the mirror and startles.

DEAN God.

DEAN thumps the sink.

DEAN Don't do that.

CASTIEL Hello, Dean.

DEAN turns around; CASTIEL is inches from him.

DEAN Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?

CASTIEL My apologies.

CASTIEL steps back. DEAN grabs his jacket and walks toward the bed.

DEAN How'd you find me? I thought I was flying below the angel radar.

DEAN rubs his ribs to illustrate the point.

CASTIEL You are. Bobby told me where you were.

CASTIEL looks around the motel room, which has no signs of SAM's presence, not even a second bed.

CASTIEL Where's Sam?

DEAN puts on his jacket without looking at CASTIEL.

DEAN Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So.

DEAN You find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?

CASTIEL No, I haven't found him. That's why I'm here. I need your help.

DEAN With what? God hunt? Not interested.

CASTIEL It's not God. It's someone else.

DEAN Who?

CASTIEL Archangel. The one who killed me.

DEAN 'Scuse me?

CASTIEL His name is Raphael.

DEAN You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?

CASTIEL I've heard whispers that he's walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity.

DEAN For what? Revenge?

CASTIEL Information.

DEAN goes back over to the sink, picks up his knife and a washcloth, and starts to clean the knife.

DEAN So, what, you think you can find this dude and he's just gonna spill God's address?

CASTIEL Yes, because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him.

DEAN pauses and turns back.

DEAN You're serious about this.

CASTIEL turns around to face DEAN. DEAN drops the washcloth and walks back toward CASTIEL.

DEAN So, what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?

CASTIEL stares at DEAN, confused. DEAN goes around CASTIEL and does something offscreen with the knife.

DEAN Give me one good reason why I should do this.

CASTIEL Because you're Michael's vessel and no angel will dare harm you.

DEAN looks at CASTIEL.

DEAN Oh, so I'm your bullet shield.

CASTIEL I need your help because you are the only one who'll help me. Please.

DEAN considers.

DEAN All right, fine. Where is he?

CASTIEL Maine. Let's go.

CASTIEL reaches to touch DEAN's forehead with two fingers. DEAN leans away.

DEAN Whoa.

CASTIEL removes his hand.

CASTIEL What?

DEAN Last time you zapped me someplace I didn't poop for a week. We're driving.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR SCENE 1

DEAN dampens a washcloth in the motel room sink and starts to clean his jacket. CASTIEL appears behind him. DEAN sees him in the mirror and startles.

DEAN God.

DEAN thumps the sink.

DEAN Don't do that.

I find it interesting that Dean has been unable to sense Castiel before he appears as of late. Because Dean has the cloaking symbols along his ribs, it now makes it harder for Castiel to hone in on Dean's frequency to find him. I wonder if because of that, Dean doesn't feel that "honing in". Perhaps this is what alerted Dean of his presence in previous episodes; he could feel Castiel honing in on him. Castiel is still able to sort of penetrate Dean's subconscious it seems, but only once they are already together/he knows where he is.

Either that or perhaps some days Dean is just not as receptive to Castiel's frequency and so doesn't pick up on it at all times.

CASTIEL Hello, Dean.

DEAN turns around; CASTIEL is inches from him.

DEAN Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?

CASTIEL My apologies.

Dean's discomfort with Castiel's proximity is interesting though I suppose one does enjoy their personal space. I also find it interesting that Dean apparently brought up to Castiel that he stands too close, off screen "we've talked about this". Why it makes him uncomfortable could be for a number of reasons. Last episode we were given the impression that Dean is uneasy around Castiel especially when he is close to him. I feel it's because Castiel is quite penetrative whether he intends to be or not and it makes Dean feel vulnerable. One could also say that Dean is alarmed by the proximity because Castiel is in a male vessel and it is uncomfortable for him being that close to another male. The way he swallows nervously and looks from Castiel's eyes to his lips hints at a sort of sexual thinking; which is common with Dean. He is often thinking of sex. I think here he was aware that Castiel’s face was quite close to his own; basically is within kissing range.

Either way, his discomfort and nervousness is obvious. Why he was nervous could be left up to the viewers interpretation but it initially gave me the impression that Castiel was too close to his own face and that “it’s weird with another dude”. Dean may or may not have some desires that he is repressing; it’s not stated so much as it is possibly hinted at.

I've realized Castiel doesn't stand this close to others, not even other angels, which leads me to believe it's not so much a lack of understanding of boundaries. Perhaps because he is attached to Dean, he feels standing closer is acceptable. According to Castiel he's been in and around Dean's form; for him, he may consider separation at all to be quite the distance apart.

DEAN So, what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together?

I find it note worthy that Dean refers to Thelma and Louise and Ernie and Bert in this episode. Both of these couples have the controversy surrounding them that they're homosexual. Basically, they are shipped, just as Dean and Castiel are. Dean even says (later) that he knows for a fact Ernie and Bert are gay. I feel this may have been deliberate on the writers' end. Character-wise it's also possible that it means something, perhaps something going on within Dean's subconscious. Or it could be a mere coincidence.

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SCENE 2

DEAN and CASTIEL get out of the Impala.

Waterville, Maine

DEAN And we're here why?

CASTIEL A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel.

DEAN And he still has eyes? All right, what's the plan?

CASTIEL We'll...tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is.

DEAN Seriously? You're going to walk in there and tell him the truth?

CASTIEL Why not?

DEAN Because we're humans.

DEAN pulls out another fake ID and stashes it inside CASTIEL's coat, then adjusts CASTIEL's coat and tie.

DEAN And when humans want something really, really bad, we lie.

CASTIEL Why?

DEAN Because that's how you become President.

INT. SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT – DAY

DEAN Deputy Framingham?

The DEPUTY turns around. DEAN holds up an FBI ID.

DEAN Hi. Alonzo Mosely, FBI. This is my partner, Eddie Moscone.

CASTIEL does nothing.

DEAN Also FBI.

CASTIEL does nothing. DEAN stares at him. CASTIEL catches on and pulls out his FBI ID, which he displays upside-down. DEAN turns it over for him.

DEAN He's, uh, he's new. Mind if we ask you a few questions?

CASTIEL looks at the ID, curious.

FRAMINGHAM Yeah, sure. Talk here, though.

FRAMINGHAM indicates his right ear, leading DEAN and CASTIEL to his office.

FRAMINGHAM Hearing's all blown to hell in this one.

DEAN That happen recently?

FRAMINGHAM Yeah. Gas station. Why you're here, isn't it?

DEAN Yes, it is.

They all sit down.

DEAN You mind just, uh, running us through what happened?

FRAMINGHAM A call came in. Disturbance out at the Pump and Go on Route 4.

DEAN What kind of disturbance?

FRAMINGHAM Would not have believed my eyes if I hadn't seen it myself. We're talking a riot. Full scale.

DEAN How many?

FRAMINGHAM Thirty, forty, in all-out kill-or-be-killed combat?

DEAN Any idea what set them off?

CASTIEL It's angels and demons, probably.

FRAMINGHAM looks at CASTIEL. CASTIEL looks back.

CASTIEL They're skirmishing all over the globe.

FRAMINGHAM Come again?

FRAMINGHAM turns back to DEAN.

FRAMINGHAM What did he say?

DEAN and CASTIEL speak simultaneously.

DEAN Nothing. Nothing.

CASTIEL Demons. Demons.

CASTIEL shuts up.

DEAN Demons, you know, drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt.

FRAMINGHAM looks back and forth.

FRAMINGHAM I guess.

DEAN looks at CASTIEL.

DEAN Anyway.

DEAN returns his attention to FRAMINGHAM.

DEAN What happened next?

FRAMINGHAM Freaking explosion, that's what. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but, uh, I don't think so.

DEAN Why not?

FRAMINGHAM Wasn't your usual fireball. It was, um—

CASTIEL Pure white.

FRAMINGHAM Yeah. Gas station was leveled. Everyone was...it was just horrible. And I see this one guy, kneeling, real focused-like, not a damn scratch on him.

DEAN You know him?

FRAMINGHAM Donnie Finneman. Mechanic there.

DEAN Let me guess, he just, uh, vanished into thin air?

FRAMINGHAM Uh, no, Kolchak. He's down at Saint Pete's.

CASTIEL turns to DEAN.

CASTIEL Saint Pete's.

DEAN Thank you. ST. PETER'S HOSPITAL

INT. HOSPITAL – DAY

DONNIE is sitting in a wheelchair, catatonic. DEAN and CASTIEL observe him from the hallway window.

DEAN I take it that's not Raphael anymore.

CASTIEL Just an empty vessel.

DEAN So is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?

CASTIEL No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you.

DEAN looks away.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR SCENE 2

CASTIEL We'll...tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is.

DEAN Seriously? You're going to walk in there and tell him the truth?

CASTIEL Why not?

DEAN Because we're humans.

DEAN pulls out another fake ID and stashes it inside CASTIEL's coat, then adjusts CASTIEL's coat and tie.

This scene is endearing. We see, for one, that Castiel doesn't understand how to behave like a normal human being and that he will need to learn some things from Dean.

And the adjusting of Castiel's coat and tie just goes to show that Dean is becoming more comfortable around Castiel, which is important. I find it funny how Dean is unwilling to allow Castiel into his personal space, but he feels he is allowed into Castiel's. So the issue isn't so much that he wants his personal space. Perhaps this is based on Dean's need for control; and he feels out of control unless he initiates it.

Other moments during this scene were enjoyable. They make an entertaining couple. I feel many could ship them because of this; they are quite funny together.

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SCENE 3

DEAN walks through the empty cabin, paging through John's journal. He sets it down on the table and turns. CASTIEL is there, holding a ceramic jar.

DEAN Where've you been?

CASTIEL Jerusalem.

DEAN Oh, how was it?

CASTIEL Arid.

CASTIEL sets the jar on the table.

DEAN What's that?

CASTIEL It's oil. It's very special. Very rare.

CASTIEL sits down.

DEAN Okay, so we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?

CASTIEL No.

DEAN So this ritual of yours, when does it got to go down?

CASTIEL Sunrise.

DEAN Tell me something. You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?

CASTIEL No, it's harder.

DEAN Do we have any chance of surviving this?

CASTIEL You do.

DEAN So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow.

CASTIEL Yes.

DEAN Well. Last night on earth. What are your plans?

CASTIEL I just thought I'd sit here quietly.

DEAN Come on, anything? Booze, women?

CASTIEL looks at DEAN and away, uncomfortable.

DEAN You have been with women before. Right? Or an angel, at least?

CASTIEL rubs the back of his neck.

DEAN You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?

CASTIEL Look, I've never had occasion, okay?

DEAN All right.

DEAN grabs his jacket.

DEAN Let me tell you something. There are two things I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go.

DEAN leaves. CASTIEL stares after him, then follows.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR SCENE 3

DEAN Do we have any chance of surviving this?

CASTIEL You do.

DEAN So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow.

CASTIEL Yes.

So Castiel is aware that he will die tomorrow, yet he shows no fear what so ever. This is very different compared to what we saw of Castiel in season 4. He was terrified. "They will kill us, all of us!"

Which brings me back to something I said in previous reviews. Was Castiel so terrified about rebelling because it put DEAN at risk? In this situation, Dean has a chance of surviving, and Castiel is no longer terrified. Fascinating.

DEAN Well. Last night on earth. What are your plans?

CASTIEL I just thought I'd sit here quietly.

Castiel just wanted to sit there with Dean quietly for his last night on Earth.

DEAN Come on, anything? Booze, women?

CASTIEL looks at DEAN and away, uncomfortable.

DEAN You have been with women before. Right? Or an angel, at least?

CASTIEL rubs the back of his neck.

DEAN You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?

CASTIEL Look, I've never had occasion, okay?

Dean's misunderstanding of how it works is quite hilarious. It would be impossible for two light beings to become intimate on a physical level. They are not physical beings. There is also no such thing as male or female where Castiel is from; there is only masculine and feminine energies, and light beings hold both. One of the energies is often more dominant than the other but for the most part they are both masculine and feminine. Angels do not have a gender; that is merely how human beings perceive them. They select a specific form for the comfort of humans when they come to us in dreams or in visions. But ultimately they are energy; there are no males or females.

The closest a light being could come to sexual intercourse without a physical body would be more like a merging of energy. Which he's done with Dean many times, when he penetrates Dean's subconscious.

Dean simply doesn't understand because he is human.

I find Castiel's discomfort entertaining; he is very sheepish about this topic. "I've never had occasion, okay?" Of course there wasn't the occasion, it is an impossibility in the way that Dean imagines it. Knowing this, I question why Castiel became uncomfortable. Perhaps because he feels Dean is judging him? He may be uncomfortable with the judgement coming from Dean more than anything else.

I feel, if anything, Dean could be the closest he's ever came to that desire. Castiel gave up everything he ever knew for Dean; he gave up every being in Heaven for Dean. Castiel didn't originally have desires. He said himself that Dean was the one that made him start "feeling". There would be no desire for intimacy if there were no emotions.

Though through Jimmy's vessel, he has never mated with another, and that is for obvious reasons; he'd been quite occupied with many things that were far more important than experiencing physical pleasure. I don't feel that Castiel had even considered it. The only human he really has interacted with on any intimate level is Dean. If he had considered it, I don't feel he would have considered doing it with anyone but Dean.

I wanted to mention this. Since Castiel is an angel, that means he would be very familiar with the Bible. Some Bibles state that lying with the same sex is detestable, though others are said not to have this in them. Some of these words are considered words of God, and others are considered words of man. Even if Castiel does follow the Bible, the version that considers homosexuality detestable, this wouldn't be relevant any longer because Castiel has rebelled and has even agreed to "sin" with Dean by attending the strip club. However uncomfortable, he does not say no to Dean. Also, does Castiel even view himself as a man? Does he identify as male because of his vessel? I honestly doubt he does. That would be like dressing up as a zombie on Halloween and believing you are actually a zombie; you know you're not a zombie, that is just the costume. So even if Castiel were to become physically intimate with Dean, would it count as homosexual, considering the vessel is not actually Castiel? Would he resist for Jimmy's sake? Would he have to, if Jimmy is often not even aware, and if it were Castiel's decision to become intimate rather than Jimmy's?

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SCENE 4

DEAN drinks. CASTIEL looks terrified.

DEAN Hey. Relax.

CASTIEL This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here.

DEAN Dude, you full-on rebelled against heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.

A HOOKER approaches. DEAN notices.

DEAN Showtime.

HOOKER Hi. What's your name?

CASTIEL tries not to look at her.

DEAN Cas.

CASTIEL startles.

DEAN His name is Cas. What's your name?

HOOKER Chastity.

DEAN Chastity.

CASTIEL drinks his beer.

DEAN Wow. Is that kismet or what, buddy? Well, he likes you, you like him, so dayenu.

CHASTITY tugs CASTIEL up.

CHASTITY Come on, baby.

DEAN catches CASTIEL on the way past.

DEAN Hey, listen. Take this.

DEAN holds out a handful of money.

DEAN If she asks for a credit card, no. Now just stick to the basics, okay? Do not order off the menu. Go get her, tiger.

CASTIEL stays still.

DEAN Don't make me push you.

CASTIEL takes the money and turns to follow CHASTITY. Another HOOKER walks past; DEAN follows her. She and DEAN clink glasses at the bar.

DEAN Well, cheers to you.

A scream offscreen. DEAN goes to investigate.

INT. BROTHEL BACK CORRIDOR – NIGHT

CHASTITY Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Bastard! Screw you, jerk!

She throws something at CASTIEL, who is a little disheveled.

CHASTITY I'll kill you!

She storms past DEAN.

CHASTITY Screw you too! God! Oh! Jerk!

DEAN approaches CASTIEL.

DEAN The hell did you do?

CASTIEL I don't know. I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office.

DEAN Oh, no, man.

CASTIEL What?

DEAN This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It's, it's the natural order.

Two BOUNCERS enter from the door CHASTITY left through.

DEAN We should go. Come on.

He and CASTIEL head for the door at the opposite end of the corridor.

EXT. ALLEY – NIGHT

DEAN is laughing as he closes the door behind himself and CASTIEL.

CASTIEL What's so funny?

DEAN Oh, nothing. Whoo. It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time. Years.

DEAN's face falls as he realizes.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR SCENE 4

DEAN drinks. CASTIEL looks terrified.

DEAN Hey. Relax.

CASTIEL This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here.

DEAN Dude, you full-on rebelled against heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.

Castiel is terrified, he considers all of this sinful for obvious reasons. Dean convinces him that he is able to sin because he rebelled against Heaven. Castiel drinks the entirety of his beer during this scene due to how fearful he is of the situation. It's clear that Castiel doesn't want to have relations. He just wanted to sit quietly with Dean for his last hours; this is quite uncomfortable and Castiel doesn't understand it. He does not seem to have any sort of sex drive which makes perfect sense considering he is not human.

DEAN If she asks for a credit card, no. Now just stick to the basics, okay? Do not order off the menu. Go get her, tiger.

CASTIEL stays still.

DEAN Don't make me push you.

The only reason Castiel did it was because Dean forced him to. It's clear from Castiel's end that this was not something he wanted or cared to do. One could look at this as Castiel giving into Dean as he has done in the past; Dean is his weakness. Despite the fact that it involves sexual pleasure with women, it is not entirely relevant because sexuality isn't the question here, it is whether or not Dean and Castiel are in love. Whether or not they are monogamous, polygamous, dating, not dating. I am not looking to find the answer to these questions, just whether or not Dean and Castiel are in love. Whether they sleep with other people doesn't matter because you can be in love with one person and still have sexual relations with another person. In fact, you can even love more than one person at a time, just in different ways. Sometimes you love someone more than another person but they're both loved none the less. This scene is only partly relevant. I didn't want to bring sexuality into it because Castiel is not actually male. Him not wanting to sleep with a woman is not in favor of "homosexuality". That doesn't matter where Castiel is concerned because he is not male, he has a male vessel and that fact is very important and must not be forgotten. Castiel's discomfort of and lack of a desire to sleep with a woman is not, for me, proof of homosexuality. For one, because there is no question of sexuality where Castiel is concerned because he is not a man. And for two, because his lack of desire to sleep with a random woman is not because he wants instead to sleep with a random man. I feel sleeping with a random man would make him extremely uncomfortable as well. He is not used to this sort of thing. 

Although, one could say that Castiel would prefer to sleep with a man; not just any man, but with Dean. Not because of Dean's gender but because Dean is Dean. Dean is the one Castiel is attached to and bound to. It's not a gender thing, it's a soul thing. If Castiel did want to have relations with Dean, I feel it would be out of curiosity and because Dean is the only human he really has a connection with. I feel if Dean had presented Castiel with two options; do you want to sleep with that woman or do you want to sleep with me, he'd choose Dean because of their connection. Things are different for light beings. Humans base things more on the physical body whereas light beings don't always have a physical body and so base things instead on the soul.

Who are we to say that Castiel even views Dean as having a physical body, considering he is a light being? He may view things entirely different than a human; he may only see Dean's energy and not his physical body. Dean's energy would be genderless as well. He may be able to perceive Dean through Jimmy's eyes, as Jimmy, a human, would see him, but ultimately he is a light being and vision is different for them than it is for us.

And Dean wanting to sleep with a woman is not proof against Destiel. Just as Dean sleeping with a random woman isn't against Anna. Dean just isn't the "one person" kind of guy. Even if he did love Castiel, I doubt he would resist being with women because of that.

At this point I don't see anything romantic between Dean and Castiel. They are being portrayed here as friends more than anything. Perhaps even brotherly, as if Castiel has taken Sam's place. If there are any sort of romantic feelings, they would be coming from Castiel, who ultimately would have a different idea of what love is compared to Dean in the first place. I imagine if it were up to Castiel, he'd just be around Dean and that would be enough for him. I don't feel Castiel is at the point where he would want to have sexual relations. He may be curious if anything but I don't feel he is "aching" for it.

DEAN The hell did you do?

CASTIEL I don't know. I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office.

Proof that Castiel does indeed read minds. So he knows what Dean thinks and feels. So that moment in Season 4 when Dean was asleep and dreaming of Hell, and Castiel asked what he was dreaming about, he already knew. Which brings me to the fact that, he only asked in case Dean wanted to talk about it.

This scene also proves that Castiel doesn't care for physical intimacy as much as he cares about a merging of energies. Castiel's penetrative stare, that is indeed what he does when he's going into the mind. I love how I picked up on these things and they're actually proving to be true. The writers are really good. Either way, Castiel, instead of having sex with the woman, stared into her eyes and "linked" with her. For Castiel, I feel this is the equivalent of sex, as I have said in previous reviews. And he's done this with Dean many, many times.

Considering Castiel is an angel, a light being, it makes this pairing interesting to analyze. It'd be easy to analyze if it were merely from Dean's end, being human. But because Castiel doesn't go by human rules, it's quite a challenge.

According to Castiel, his relationship with Dean could be what a human would consider romantic.

One thing that is the same, whether angel or human, is love. There's no confusion in that area. And Castiel definitely feels that for Dean. His actions and even his statements have made that clear. Uriel has come out and said Castiel likes Dean. Castiel has said he began feeling emotions, because of Dean. Gotten close to Dean. He sacrificed everything he ever knew for Dean. Ask yourself; if you were to sacrifice everything and everyone you ever knew, for one person, wouldn't it be clear that you had some very strong feelings for them?

DEAN Oh, nothing. Whoo. It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time. Years.

This could be seen as Dean really enjoying spending time with Castiel. Though I feel that they were trying to portray, here, that Dean is happier without Sam around. None the less, Castiel was the reason he laughed, not Sam's absence. Sam's absence just made it easier for him to "let go". Though I don't consider this proof for or against Castiel because the attention is being brought to this because of Sam, not so much Castiel. The writers wanted to make it clear that Dean feels better when he doesn't have to worry about Sam. Either way, he is definitely bonding with Castiel and their friendship now feels more solid.

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SCENE 6

DEAN drives. CASTIEL rides shotgun.

DEAN You okay?

CASTIEL is silent.

DEAN Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers.

CASTIEL What do you mean?

DEAN I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?

CASTIEL I believe he's out there.

DEAN Good. Then go find him.

CASTIEL What about you?

DEAN What about me? I don't know. Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm really good.

CASTIEL Even without your brother?

DEAN Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not that much fun. It's funny, you know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy.

DEAN looks over; the shotgun seat is empty. His smile falters.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR SCENE 6

DEAN You okay?

CASTIEL is silent.

Dean is looking to comfort Castiel, just as Castiel has always sought to comfort Dean (as best he could given the circumstances). An important turning point.

DEAN Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers.

CASTIEL What do you mean?

Just as I mentioned in review of 4x10, that Anna and Dean can not only relate to the father issues, but Castiel as well. Proof still of the similarities between Dean/Anna and Dean/Castiel.

DEAN Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not that much fun. It's funny, you know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy.

DEAN looks over; the shotgun seat is empty. His smile falters.

Dean saying he's had more fun with Castiel in 24 hours than he's had with Sam in years. Though he states here that it's not because Castiel is "fun", but rather, because he doesn't have to worry about Sam. So I can't consider this proof towards Destiel because of that.

Dean says he's happy when he's alone but once Castiel is gone, his smile disappears. This could be based more on Sam being gone than Castiel being gone, or it could be related to both. Either way, he was smiling and happy just before Castiel disappears and he realized he was alone again. Perhaps Castiel served as a good distraction.

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DESTIEL REVIEW FOR EPISODE OVERALL

From Castiel’s point of view, I think it’s clear that he loves Dean. I don’t feel he is seeking anything from Dean on a physical level. I feel it’s quite pure and innocent, though intense and overpowering.

From Dean’s side, I feel he considers Castiel to be a good friend at this point and that he enjoys spending time with him. Nervousness with closeness and referencing gay couples may or may not mean something. At this point, from Dean’s end it is up to the viewer why he reacts in certain ways. Though according to me, he does not love Castiel, but may have imagined Castiel in certain sexual situations. Dean does this with just about everyone.

DESTIEL RATING AFTER EPISODE (based on how believable): 4.5/10