#and you don't feel bad tossing it eventually because it's just paper

[salparadiselost]

I think people my age and younger need to rediscover the joy of a physical magazine subscription.

[oikasugayama]

I love all your posts. In your dazai nsfw head canons, there was the thing with chuuya and I was wondering if you could write a fic on that? It's oki if not!! :)

tag-team

Inspired by letters I and W from my Dazai NSFW alphabet in which Dazai wants to fuck his girlfriend in Chuuya's office, and Chuuya gets to join in.

5.1k, jealous!dazai, afab!reader, cumming inside, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, soukoku bickering while fucking, etc. not soukoku but they do sexually interact, etc. not proofread bc i'm tired [click to read on ao3]

You urge Dazai to lock the door behind you, but he chuckles and shakes his head. “No baby,” he mumbles, sliding his hands past your hips and down to grab two handfuls of your ass. “He'll know something's up if the door's locked. If Chuuya catches us, we should be riiiight in the middle of things so he can't stop us.”

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this again?” you ask as he leans forward, chasing your lips even as you lean back and wait for an answer.

“Because fuck Chuuya. If I want to fuck my girl in his office, I will.”

“That's a terrible reason,” you gasp as Dazai slides one hand up your body and into the hair at the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. His open mouth meets yours, tongues immediately gliding together with the same force as your lips. 

“But we're here, aren't we?” he asks after pulling back just for a second. “And I want you so bad.”

You whimper and let him reel you in once again. Your nerves will get the best of you if you have time to take in your surroundings; as it is your nose can't stop sniffing out the unfamiliar smells of luxuriois leather and some kind of smoke. If Dazai keeps leading you so confidently you'll be able to let go of yourself entirely and go along with this absolute ridiculous plan of his.

He kisses you faster and with more urgency than he does at home, making both of you breathless as you gasp into each other's mouths and lap at each other's tongues. 

His large hands glide over your body, up and down your back, hiking your top up and trying to dip into your pants. You follow his lead, reaching for the buttons on his vest and his shirt. He keeps kissing you through both of you martially undressing, his tops hitting the floor, yours following shortly after.

When he gets your bra off he makes you sit on Chuuya’s desk, and he leans down to suck on your tit. You lean back, tossing your hair over your shoulder, closing your eyes so you can focus on the feeling of Dazai's tongue circling your nipple as it perks and hardens at his touch. You make small noises, still shy in an unfamiliar place, but Dazai keeps working over you, suckling, kneading, teasing his teeth over your skin, until you're softly moaning his name and laying back, making him bend at the waist and lean forward to follow you down onto Chuuya's desk, ignoring whatever papers you land on. 

Dazai kisses lower eventually, and his deft fingers unbutton your jeans and start sneaking under the fabric.

“You're so pretty spread out for me on stupid Chuuya’s desk,” he says cupping your dampening panties in his palm. “I'm gonna make you feel so good the whole Mafia hears you screaming.”

Your eyes widen in panic briefly and you stutter out a no, but Dazai laughs softly and kisses right above where your panties cover.

“You're safe, baby, I promise. Not a single person here would be stupid enough to hurt a hair on your head.” He drags your jeans down your legs finally, and you kick a little as he pulls them over your feet. He grabs one ankle, kisses the inside of it, then holds your leg up and kisses slowly down, closer and closer to your crotch.

“These walls are soundproof anyways,” he says once he's near your inner thigh. “No one will hear you scream.”

You giggle softly and push his forehead away from you.

“Don't be creepy, weirdo.”

He smiles and lays his cheek against your thigh, his face so close to your clothed cunt. You watch him, desperate for his next move.

“There's my sweet girl. You really don't need to be worried, I promise.” You jump slightly when his finger presses just above your clit and pushes in as he drags it down, making your panties slightly stick between your folds. “I'd never put you in danger.” His voice lowers as his finger goes up again, still pushing in, now really emphasizing your cleavage. “You know that, right?”

You nod, giving a quiet “mhm.”

“Speak up,” he says, now tracing his fingers around the outside of your panties.

“I know,” you say, still keeping your eyes locked on his. “You'd never put me in danger.”

“Good. And do you know why?” His finger slips under by just a single knuckle, and he lifts your panties high, making the crotch pull taut and squish between your labia. You whine and try to push down to get some friction on your clit but it's barely there, he's holding your panties at just the wrong angle.

“Tell me.”

“Because you love me?” You guess, and he smiles widely.

“Exactly!” he says in his playful, excited voice. Then he rolls his head toward your crotch and licks a fat, wet stripe up one half of your exposed cunt. You make a startled little moan and he chuckles before licking the other side too.

“Now, do you want my tongue or my fingers?” he asks so close that you can feel his breath tickling your wet skin.

“Both,” you answer immediately.

“Both?” He sits up and tsks, slowly shaking his head. He stands upright and you whine, reaching for him, saying soft no’s.

“Greedy girl.” He looks down and spreads your pussy with his fingers, then readjusts your panties so they're right against your clit. “You must be so horny you could die. Being so greedy like that… Why don't you get yourself off then, baby? Show me how you play with yourself with no hands.”

He tugs your panties up slightly a couple of times, giving little pricks of pleasure to your clit. You get the hint and move your hips up slowly, getting another prick of sensation. You readjust, getting one foot up on the desk beside you so you have leverage to move. Then you start a slow rhythm, bucking upward against your panties so they grind on your clit and work you up. 

“That's it, baby,” Dazai coos lowly, petting your thigh with his free hand. After a while when your speed increases and you start whining his name, he unbuckles his belt, works open his button and fly, and pulls his dick out, giving it strokes that match the time of your grinding.

“Fuck, this is hot,” he sighs. “I could watch you get yourself off all day.”

“But I want you,” you whine. You start kneading and pawing at your boobs as well, staring right up at Dazai. “Fuck me,” you beg softly.

Dazai bites his lip but says nothing, watching you with his greedy, hungry eyes.

“Please,” you breathily beg, searching for more pressure that just doesn’t exist in your current predicament. “Please, Dazai, please. Please.”

“God, it’s so hot when you beg,” he finally says, letting go of his dick. He grabs your panties with both hands and pulls them down your legs before haphazardly throwing them over his shoulder to land somewhere else.

“I want you so bad, Dazai. Please. Please.”

“Shhh,” he coos softly, leaning down over you. His lips brush yours and he intersperses tiny kisses with tiny shushes as his fingers collect your wetness. You desperately chase his lips, but he keeps pulling away. He even has the audacity to chuckle in your face.

“Don’t worry, needy girl.” He hisses softly, and you vaguely get the impression that his arm is moving-- he must be stroking himself with your wetness. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

You nod frantically, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He asks if you’re ready, and you keep nodding and nodding and finally he slips the tip inside and you moan into his face.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, sinking further and further into you. “Love this pussy. It’s so fucking good to me.”

“I love you,” you whine and he chuckles again as he bottoms out.

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips and kisses you properly, not teasing or withholding anymore.

And that’s when the door opens.

“What the fuck?! Dazai!” Chuuya yells, scrambling for what to say next. Dazai sighs dramatically, letting the noise turn into a groan. He stands up without pulling out of you and turns his upper body toward Chuuya.

“What do you want?” he snaps. “I’m kind of busy here.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” There’s a scuffle and some noise from the hallway, but to your surprise Chuuya calmly calls over his shoulder “Don’t worry about it-- I’ve got it under control,” and then closes and locks the door behind him. He takes his hat off and hangs it on the back of the door then turns back to you two.

“I thought you were fucking joking, you dumbass.”

“I never joke about my lady’s pleasure,” Dazai says, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What is he talking about?” Your whole body is flushed with embarrassment and fear and now confusion. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, afraid of being yelled at or in trouble with the fucking Port Mafia, but Dazai is acting so nonchalant, and all Chuuya does is tsk.

“You didn’t even tell her? How the fuck did you get her here if you didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what? Dazai?”

Dazai groans and turns back fully to you, grinding against you, making you gasp. “I told you that you weren’t in any danger. Chuuya knew we were coming.”

“I didn’t know. You said it like a fucking joke.”

“Dazai, tell me what--”

“I asked Chuuya if he’d let us fuck in his office if he got to join in if he caught us, and he said yes.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Join in…?”

Dazai’s eyes lock on yours but he doesn’t say anything. Your eyes are softer than he expected and now he’s starting to realize maybe he didn’t make the right call here. Now he’ll actually have to put his money where his mouth is and let his ex-partner fuck his girlfriend.

Dazai easily regains his composure and turns to look at Chuuya again.

“Well?” he asks. “Why are you still standing there? You caught us, so come here.”

Chuuya hesitates.

“She okay with this?” he asks. “Man, I don’t even know her name.”

“That’s because you haven’t introduced yourself yet, slug. Now come here.”

“Don’t boss me around,” he grumbles as he crosses the room. Finally he’s standing over you and his eyes lock purely on yours, not straying in the slightest to any of your exposed skin.

“Sorry we weren’t properly introduced because your boyfriend’s a fucking moron. I’m Nakahara Chuuya. Are you okay with this?”

“Hi, Chuuya,” you say softly. Your face is so warm as you blush; his formality makes the situation really sink in--you’re spread out naked with your boyfriend balls deep, and Chuuya’s hardly acknowledging it. “He is kind of dumb, but I like him anyway--”

“--Heeey--”

“I’m [Y/N], and yeah, you can join us. I mean, really it’s the least we could do…”

A smirk slowly overcomes Chuuya’s face.

“Oh, yeah? Gonna pay me back for the time it’s gonna take to clean my office by letting me use your pretty little body?”

Dazai grinds against you again, and you groan softly, biting your lip.

“Mhm,” you hum, nodding at Chuuya. “We’ll make it worth your time.” You reach out for his hand, and he allows you to take it. You guide it to your tit, and he chuckles.

“Right into it, huh?” he asks, massaging it gently. Dazai finally pulls partially out of you and thrusts back in, making you gasp again. Chuuya glances down at where your cunt sucks your boyfriend’s cock in, and he clicks his tongue.

“Damn, that’s kinda hot.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and squeezing, drawing extra whines from you.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks rhetorically, rubbing one of his hands across your belly and up your side. He pulls you by your hips until your ass is partially hanging off the desk. You wrap your legs around his hips and he starts his usual starting pace, fucking into you nice and deep because of the angle he has you at.

“Chuuya,” you say softly, but the way Dazai is fucking you makes everything you say sound like a breathy moan. Both of them turn slightly red from hearing you more or less moan to Chuuya. “Chuuya, take your pants off,” you add, trying to make it clear that you were trying to say this from the beginning. Dazai’s thrusts speed up and hit harder, and he starts grunting from the effort.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, grabbing the edge of the desk for dear life. “Oh, Dazai, fuck!”

You hear the clinking of metal and turn your head to see Chuuya doing as you asked. He drops his pants, kicking them to the side after kicking his shoes off too. He unbuttons his vest and his shirt and strips until he’s only in his underwear and socks. You watch as he palms himself through his underwear, watching from a few feet away as Dazai fucks you relentlessly. Your tits jiggle, your breath shakes, your legs are trembling, and Dazai is huffing and moaning and panting above you. His head is down, his long hair hanging over his face as he watches where your cunt meets his cock--he told you once it’s one of his favorite sights, and when he gets so drunk on it like today, you believe it.

“Let me touch you,” you stumble out to Chuuya, reaching out to him again. He shuffles closer until your hand can paw at his crotch, feeling for the shape of him through cloth. He locks his hands behind his head and stands with his hips toward you, watching as you stroke him and feel him up as best you can.

“Take it off,” you huff, grabbing the elastic of his waistband. “I wanna see.”

Meanwhile, Dazai’s pace doesn’t let up. One of his hands gropes at your breasts, squeezing and almost using it as leverage to balance himself as he fucks you.

“Go on then,” Chuuya says without moving. You struggle to reach both arms over to him, but you manage to squirm away from Dazai just enough-- which he does not like-- to get your hands on Chuuya’s underwear. You pull it down a few inches and push it as much as you can until finally they drop.

His cock is a nice size-- it’s thick and when you wrap your hand around it, an inch or two and the tip are still sticking out. His pubes are thick but cleanly trimmed and with his toned, muscular body you have to admit you’re finding him really, extremely hot.

“Your hands are much softer than mine,” he grunts as you jerk him off. “Feels good.”

“She’s got an amazing mouth,” Dazai pants, finally lifting his head to watch you interact with Chuuya, though his pace never ceases. “Put on a condom and let her show you what she can do.”

“You use condoms?” Chuuya asks, glancing down at Dazai’s dick.

“No, but you will if you’re gonna put your dick anywhere near her,” he mumbles. “I don’t even like her hand on you bare.” He grimaces. “You still keep some in your desk, don’t you?”

“Old habits die hard,” Chuuya mumbles, gently touching your hand to make you let go of him. As he rounds his desk to rifle through his drawers, Dazai leans down and licks one nipple, then the other.

“I’m gonna cum in you,” he mumbles against your skin. “You’re mine. Don’t you forget that.”

“Yeah,” you moan as you agree. His fingers find his way down to your pussy, and you feel one partially slip in beside his cock, working a louder moan from you as it stretches you nicely. He pulls it out, presses in, gently stretching and filling you to the brim.

There’s a thud next to your head, and you turn to see Chuuya kneeling on the desk beside you, rolling a condom over his shaft. “Will you open that pretty mouth for me?”

You don’t even answer, you just whine and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“She loves it,” Dazai says, and it comes out awfully near to a moan. “Love sucking cock, don’t you, [Y/N]?”

“Mhm,” you hum around Chuuya’s tip as he settles it on your tongue. You close your mouth around him and let him decide the pace. He goes relatively easy on you given how Dazai is still jackhammering away at your cunt, grunting and huffing though he’s far less talkative than normal.

“Yeah, look at you,” Dazai sighs blissfully. “Bet you like having two cocks, huh? Greedy girl.” His eyes are on your mouth, watching Chuuya tamely slide in and out of your mouth. He privately seethes at the way your shiny eyes stare up at Chuuya, but he’s determined to get your attention back by making you cum.

His finger, now sufficiently wet from fingering you while fucking you, slides up from your pussy to your clit. He rubs fast, wide circles over your clit. He relishes in the way your eyes widen and flicker over to him. You must have sucked in a breath and sucked harder on Chuuya, because he moans too and his hips stutter forward.

Dazai knows that you’re about to cum based on your frequent moans. He wishes he could hear them more clearly, but he also is starting to find a sick sort of pleasure in the muffled sound you make combined with the typical noises of having a cock in your mouth. Chuuya’s not too bad looking, either.

Finally it happens. You’re loud, even muffled as you are. You moan and whine, your breathing is heavy and struggles to escape through your nose, but Chuuya doesn’t retract himself to make it any easier on you. Your legs tremble, and Dazai feels proud because of it. The way your walls clench and flutter as your orgasm tears through you milks Dazai’s dick so good.

“Fuck, mm, fuck!” Dazai whimpers and drops his head, once again watching his favorite sight. He’s been fucking you so deeply, and you’ve been so exceptionally wet today, that there’s a sticky, white ring around his shaft and it only gets messier as he cums inside of you. He shoots thick ropes of white deep inside, continuing to thrust increasingly lazily as he empties his load. 

“Stop, stop,” Dazai says softly, touching Chuuya’s hips. Chuuya gives him a look but nods and backs up, finally freeing your mouth. Dazai slips out of you while leaning down to kiss you. You lick and pant into each other’s mouths, and when Dazai pulls away he slides two messy, cum-covered fingers onto your tongue.

“Taste us.”

You clean his fingers off with your mouth and try to sit up once he’s pulled his hand away and stood up himself.

Maybe it’s because of how calm and blissed out Dazai is because of his orgasm, but he lolls his head to the side and smiles lazily at Chuuya. “She’s the wettest she’s ever been,” he sighs happily. “You better get your dick wet before I change my mind. Take that stupid thing off,” he says, waving his hand at Chuuya’s condom-covered dick.

“You sure?” Chuuya asks, raising an eyebrow. He holds himself by the base, languidly stroking when his cock gives an interested twitch at what Dazai offers. Meanwhile, Dazai is helping you to your feet and peppering kisses across your face.

“Yes,” Dazai says, rolling his eyes at Chuuya, then he turns back to you. “Why don’t you take it off him, baby?”

You nod slightly and turn to Chuuya, holding your hands out toward him. He crawls to the edge of the desk beside you, observing the way your legs tremble after the pounding Dazai just gave you. You wrap your hands around him and roll the condom off, handing it to Dazai after which makes him laugh.

“Throw it away,” you mumble, then predicting what he’ll do, you quickly add on “in the trash not on the floor.”

“Yes, darling,” he coos, though it’s unmistakable how disgusted he is to be holding Chuuya’s used condom. He barely grips it with two fingers, holding it away from himself. “In the meantime, I think Chuuya should lay on the floor-- you’ll both like my idea, so just do it.”

You and Chuuya share a look as Dazai goes behind Chuuya’s desk to find a trash can, but Chuuya shrugs and gets down on the floor on his back, one arm behind his head, the other lazily stroking his cock as he looks up at you. His eyes trail down your body, from the hickeys and lovebites all over your neck and chest to your red, sore nipples all the way down to your visibly sticky wet cunt which has been slowly dribbling Dazai’s cum down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Chuuya hisses, fisting his cock harder when he notices the cum trail.

“Isn’t she?” Dazai asks, coming back to you. He gives you a few sweet kisses, keeping his eyes cracked open to make sure Chuuya is watching. Then he takes your hands and guides you the few steps over to his former partner on the floor.

“Lay down on top of him, your back on his chest.”

“But I’m gonna--”

“You’re not gonna squish him, he’ll be fine.” Dazai holds your hands as you kneel down, straddling Chuuya’s hips backwards.

“But if you touch him you’ll nullify--”

“He’s tougher than he looks, and he already looks pretty tough-- that’s the only compliment you’re getting from me, Slug.”

Chuuya’s hands grab your waist and help you sit on his hips and then lay back so you’re against his chest.

“Not even using my ability and you’re fine, babe. Don’t worry about your weight, I don’t care.”

“‘Babe,’” Dazai quotes with an edge of bitterness in his voice. You knew he’d get a little jealous letting his former partner in the mix, but it was his idea and you’re intent on seeing it through now. You’ll never tell Dazai, but you do find Chuuya incredibly attractive and once you saw his dick today you knew you weren’t gonna be satisfied until you got your chance to cum on it.

“Babe,” Chuuya says again, helping you readjust until your head is at his shoulder and you’d be able to look at each other or even kiss if you wanted-- not that Dazai would let you.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Sluggy dearest,” Dazai says, swiping some of his cum off of your thigh and spreading it over Chuuya’s tip. “You’ll never see her again after today, so don’t go falling in love with my girl or I really will have to kill you.”

“Like you could ever do that,” Chuuya snaps back. “I’d beat you to a pulp, even without gravity manipulation.”

“Bold talk for a man with my cum on his dick,” Dazai says in an overly playful tone with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Dude, what?! You’re a freak, why did you do that?!”

“It’s gonna get on you anyway, dumbass,” Dazai says. He slides two fingers into you easily, your pussy still being open and wet and so needy for more. He collects some of his cum and your arousal, completely mixed together and unable to discern one from the other. You give a little whine at his fingers in you, and especially at them leaving you, and then Chuuya’s breath hitches and even though you can’t see, you’re pretty sure Dazai is rubbing your slick over his dick.

“Fuck,” Chuuya sighs, and you look over at his face. At first it seems like his eyes are closed, but then you realize he’s just looking at Dazai, and you look down and see Dazai smirking and giving absolute bedroom eyes at Chuuya. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another surge of arousal making you squirm.

Chuuya’s hands grip your hips, and Dazai’s eyes shift to you and he chuckles.

“What is it, baby? Use your words.”

“You’re so hot… both of you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Chuuya purrs in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You think so?” Dazai asks, and you feel something tap against your pussy. You look down and manage to catch that Dazai’s hand is still around Chuuya’s cock, moving it now, making it touch you.

“Yeah,” you moan softly, biting your lip.

“You want Chuuya to fuck you?”

“Mhm…” you hum, nodding. Chuuya chuckles softly and lets one hand roam upward over your skin until he’s palming and kneading your breast. 

“He'll do a good job, too. Won't you Chuuya?” Dazai asks, rubbing Chuuya's dick between the folds of your cunt.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good.” He sighs at the stimulation, his hips bucking up slightly. “Better than that shitty mackerel does, I bet.”

“No chance in hell,” Dazai sneers.

“Let me show her. I'll prove it.” Chuuya bucks his hips up again, trying to get his dick to slip inside. 

“No chance--”

“--Please,” you moan, cutting Dazai off. His face changes from glaring to surprise.

“Oh? You want to find out if he’s better than me?” he asks bitterly, smacking Chuuya’s dick against your pussy.

“No, I want him to fuck me,” you whine.

“That’s not what it sounded like to me.” Dazai frowns, gloom overcoming him.

“Make her cum before I do then, jackass,” Chuuya says, largely ignoring Dazai as he plays with your tits. “Prove you’re better than me.”

“Make me cum, Dazai. Let me use Chuuya like a fuck toy.”

“God damn,” Chuuya says, bucking his hips up again. “I know that’s all I am, but fuck.”

“Yeah…” Dazai’s frown slowly turns to a smirk. “He is just a fuck toy. A big fuck toy that’s gonna fill you up with cum just how you like.” As you and Chuuya give Dazai identical confused looks, Dazai points Chuuya’s cock at your hole and guides him in. The tip drags against your inner walls so well and has you moaning and grinding down on him.

“Go, Slug. Fuck my girl.”

Chuuya’s hips immediately start thrusting up into you. He braces his feet on the floor to get a better angle and he loses himself fucking you. 

“Holy fuck you’re wet,” he huffs. “So fucking good.”

“Oh, yeah,” you moan, reaching up and around to hold the side of his head. “Oh, fuck. Chuuya.”

Dazai tries not to react to the way you moan Chuuya’s name and caress him. It’ll be over soon and he’s not about to let his jealousy take away from the incredibles view he has of your pussy being rammed by a nice, thick cock-- not that he’d ever say those words out loud for Slug to hear. 

He kneels between yours and Chuuya’s legs and runs his hands across your abdomen and belly and near your cunt, calculating how long he think the two of you are gonna last. He knows you’re already sensitive from cumming with him before, and Chuuya hasn’t cum yet at all, so maybe if Dazai gets your pussy clenching around him it’ll be over within five minutes tops.

Dazai leans down with that plan in mind and without impeding Chuuya’s thrusting, he gets his face right up to your cunt and uses the tip of his tongue to circle your clit. You whimper and buck your hips up, then push them back down to meet Chuuya. Dazai doesn’t even need to spit on you-- you’re plenty wet enough-- but he does it anyway, landing a glob right on your swollen clit. He uses the excess wetness to have his tongue gliding effortlessly in circles around your nub. Finally he gets your attention again, and you moan his name. The hand that isn’t in Chuuya’s hair slides down into Dazai’s, and he relaxes a bit now that you’re touching him.

The combination of Chuuya fucking you from behind and Dazai’s tongue now flicking relentlessly back and forth over your clit-- all the wet sounds, the smell of Chuuya’s cologne, his moaning in your ear, his hands still tweaking and playing with your incredibly over-sensitive nipples-- it’s too much. You can’t even talk; you can’t tell either one how you feel, how good they are. You can hardly moan, most of what comes out of you being only broken, stuttery noises thanks to the way Chuuya’s movements wrack your whole body and control the way even your breathing works right now.

I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna make it. you think, but you’re unable to warn either one of them. Chuuya must know it’s coming from the way your cunt clenches around him. He hisses and turns his head so his lips hover over your nose, moaning your name right at you.

Finally it happens when Dazai sucks on your clit and pushes a finger into your tight cunt alongside Chuuya’s cock. It’s overwhelming. There’s too much happening, too much going on from the both of them. You’re completely dumb on Chuuya’s cock, complete putty in Dazai’s hands.

You cum hard, arching your back up to let Chuuya fuck you deeper if possible. You squirt profusely, drenching Dazai’s mouth and getting a surprised chuckle from him.

“Good girl,” he praises, but you barely hear it over the way Chuuya shouts a string of swears next to your face. His hands finally leave your tits and grip your hips hard. He only thrusts a few more times before he’s cumming too, painting the inside of your cunt white for the second time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chuuya chants as he comes down, his movements slowing until he’s finally completely still. Dazai sits up and smiles a shit-eating grin at you.

“We made her squirt, Slug. Did you feel it?”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans, dropping his head back and turning it away from you. “I’m not cleaning that shit up, though.”

“Did you cum inside…?” you ask quietly as Dazai starts maneuvering Chuuya’s softening dick out of you.

“He said to,” Chuuya says flippantly.

“Think about it, baby,” Dazai says. “There’s no way his shitty little swimmers will beat mine. If you get pregnant, that's gonna be my baby in there.”

“It’s only ‘cause you’re a shitty mackerel. Fish swim.”

[scaly-freaks]

Snippet of Rhaena/Aemond from my AO3 fic which I probably won't be able to fit into the work itself because...plot issues. Might write bits here, I don't know. We'll see.

tw // implication of dubcon

"WHERE IS SHE?"

For such a petite woman, his wife screams like a banshee. But to her little dragon - that raw, pink, ugly creature - she coos like a siren, all trills and undulations.

Rhaena's arm sweeps across the table, sending his books scattering. Half of them belonged to her grandfather, along with a few scrolls from Yi Ti scribed in a language Aemond has yet to decipher. He pores over them in the evenings, following along with Corlys's annotations - he never had much opinion on the man beyond helping to kill his wife. But Aemond must admit that he had a sharp mind for linguistics.

"Your dragon - " he pauses to finish reading a line of script, thumb pressed to the ink-stained paper. " - is safe. Don't fret."

Rhaena's voice dips low, trembling with rage. "Give her back. She needs me to feed her. She won't feed unless I prepare the bottle - "

"That's funny. She was feeding just fine when I left her with the dragonkeeper." Aemond flings the scroll on the table, and tosses one leg over the other, hands folded across his stomach.

He smiles at her - that cold, cruel, curl of a smile - and waits for it to sink in.

For months now, he has been patient, allowing his wife to come to terms with the reality of their marriage. Granted, he had forced his sister to give her stepdaughter over in marriage as the only elder left in that wretched household, but there was no mistreatment beyond that. Rhaena had her own chambers, her own separate life. All he asked was that eventually, she turn her mind to the reality of ruling a great house.

Heirs.

"Give her back," she repeats, and he almost feels sorry for her. It is clear she is struggling to draw air into her lungs, the absence of her dragon has her so distraught. "Please."

"Give me what I want and you can have your dragon."

"Sire a bastard and have your brother legitimise it. Isn't that what you fought the war for? So that you could both do as you wished? Now this realm is yours. Go! I give you permission. Find a whore and sire a whelp, but first return my dragon to me."

Aemond rises from his chair, slowly, so as not to alarm her.

Ever since the incident in the riverlands, Rhaena has treated him like a caged tiger, giving him a wide berth where and when she can. When he is reminded whose daughter she is, her fear strokes his nerves like silk on velvet, satisfies that deep, sadistic pit in his stomach he has nursed since the first time he watched Vhagar's flames swallow a man whole.

He won't hurt her - the girl is too precious for that sort of bad behaviour - but her fear keeps her in line, prevents her from choosing treason in her bid to escape. Besides, her mother's dragon now keeps watch, turning her childhood home into a prison, one which she has tried and failed to run from. The irony is steeped in poetry.

Rhaena takes a step back, and then another, glassy eyes searching his face for any indication he will accede.

"I want heirs off you." Half the battle is won through physical stature, and Aemond towers over his wife in her delicate rose-pink dress and gold-braided hair. She is a petal, easily plucked and viciously torn, unlike her sister who is all thorns and ice. "A boy, another boy, and then maybe a girl. Little fishes to populate Corlys Velaryon's grand, old Driftmark."

She is staring at him as if her mind has left her body and walked a hundred miles into the sea, deep under the white foam, to a place where he cannot reach her. Except a single trace of his finger down one of her braids brings her twitching back to him.

Only one question remains.

"So...do you want your dragon back, Rhaena?" Aemond asks, sugary sweet.

[ghuleh-recs]

It's @chapel-of-rizztual's birthday!! So obviously I had to make us a mixtape of my favorite rizz fics. I was stoked to make this one because it meant I got to reread some of my favorite ghoul smut 😈 If you follow rizz you know what a joy it is to realize you're both on tumblr at the same time. You'll notice your feed slowly being taken over in the best possible way by a wonderful stream of consciousness reblogging spree. I have to add that chapel-of-rizztual is so damn supportive of fellow creatives, as well--sharing anything and everything we make. So let's all treat ourselves to some s tier ghoul smut in rizz's honor and maybe leave a comment or two as a lil' bday treat. ♡

recs under the cut.

In the heat of the moment - phantom x rain x mountain (polyghouls)

“Shit, I’m sorry-I didn’t realise.” He raises his arms as Rain pulls a clean hoodie on him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” Rain chuckles lightly, running a hand across Phantoms chest, smoothing out the hoodie. “You’re in heat, darling. I wouldn’t expect anything different.” He blinks up confusedly at Rain trying to take in what he’d just said to him. “I-what? What!?” Or…. Phantom goes into heat onstage but doesn’t realise because it’s his first one topside.

The only exception - aether x dewdrop

Aether smiles sweetly at him, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. “You feel better after that, Honeydrop?” Dew nods, not trusting his voice. His eyes drop down to Aethers lips for a spit second before looking back into his eyes. Aether chuckles lightly. “You want a kiss, darling?” Dew nods again and Aether surges forward to capture Dews lips in his. He gives Dew a few little pecks before pulling back. Dew whines and follows his lips. “More.” He whispered. Aether cradles his cheek and pull him in for another kiss, a proper kiss thins time, not just little pecks. Dew let’s Aether lead the the kiss, letting himself melt completely into it with a contented sigh. Or… After a stressful day Dewdrop finds himself seeking comfort from the one ghoul he trusts the most.

tumblr ficlet - lingerie - cumulus x mountain x swiss x phantom x rain

“I-uh- well, we? We all saw it in the shopping centre the other day. And we all thought- well it’s just- we all thought of you? So…yeah.” Mountain fidgets nervously as he edges his way towards the door. “I’m-uh- going back to my room, the other are also there. You can-Uh-you can join us when you unwrap it.” He seem to snap out his nervousness for a second. “If you want! There’s no pressure! I just..yeah, no pressure.” He gives her an awkward thumbs up and slips out the door without another word. Cumulus would laugh at him if she wasn’t so excited to find out what was making him so nervous. She tears the paper from the box, giggling and rolling her eyes when she recognises the lingerie brand that’s stamped on the box. Typical Boys.

Don't want to close my eyes - mountain & aether (& dew)

Mountain’s insomnia has been flaring up recently, the past few weeks he’d been getting less and less sleep each night, which led to the last couple of nights where he’d been unable to sleep. Tossing turning in his bed, eyes heavy, unable to switch his brain off. He’d given up trying to sleep tonight. His room felt too suffocating, too familiar, the endless tossing and turning had become boring. Or… Mountain hasn’t been sleeping. Aether helps.

With desire flowing through my veins - copia x mountain

After realising no one had seen Mountain for almost a week, Copia, riddled with anxiety and worry, sets out to find the Earth Ghoul. He gets a little more then he bargained for when he does eventually find him.

tumblr ficlet - first time - dewdrop x phantom

Despite what everyone thought, Dew liked the new ghoul. Sure, he wasn’t Aether, but Dew didn’t think that was a bad thing. He liked how easy the new ghoul was. How desperate for attention he was, how he’d do anything with a simple command, no fighting back. Dew liked how much control he had over him, something he never really had before, he liked how he could do anything to the new ghoul and he didn’t even question it, he’s just happy to be getting the attention he desperately wanted.

tumblr ficlet - body worship - copia x dewdrop

It was a joke. A self deprecating one, but a joke non the less. And it had made the congregation at mass laugh, all be it an awkward laugh, but it was a laugh and Copia was taking that as a win.  Dew didn’t find it funny. If he’s being honest he didn’t really understand what Copia was trying to get at, he’d always viewed the man as some above godly creature, so to hear him say something so…low about himself made an uneasy feeling swirl in his belly. 

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

[apocalypse-shuffle]

TONY STARK | IRON MAN (616)

—

“Office Time” (Tony Stark x Fem!Reader)

| Tony visits the reader at her office job. Just to hang out…no other reason.

| SFW, slice of life(?), nothing crazy happens they’re just talking, fluff

| Pic source: Tony Stark: Iron Man comics

| 2k+ words

Tony saunters into your office thirty minutes after finishing up with a business meeting in the area. He’s long since ditched his suit jacket, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned dress shirt and slacks, polished oxfords clacking on the vinyl as he travels down the office building’s nearly vacant hallways.

He knocks on your door while already walking himself in.

“Hey! It’s your boyfriend. Remember me?”

You glance at him briefly with a roll of your eyes but still flash him a smile before turning back to your monitor. The sleek black design was Stark Tech, gifted by himself, because no associate of his was working on anything less than the best. He can hear the tell tale signs of a conference call once he kicks the door closed behind him.

A small smirk eclipses his face at the sight of you and he edges his way across the room on silent feet. You toss him a curious glance but he waves you off. He’s got a hunch he plans on getting to the bottom of and he’s willing to risk your ire to do so. He thinks the reward will be greater than the risk in this case, though. Certainly more than his usual impulsive calls for excitement.

You only lightly startle when he plops down next to you on the floor behind your desk.

“So…” he starts, stretching out the word while settling comfortably beside your legs where they’re not fully under the desk.

“So?”

You hum and begin shuffling around with some papers. Tony feels like the file beneath your hands could knock Thor out; it's so thick.

“You know I love you, and all that good stuff. So, when I say this I'm really not trying to seem like the biggest jerk on the planet but, uh.” Tony scratches the back of his head as your eyes narrow at your screen. “Haha, okay. This is gonna be a little awkward, even for me, but did you get that package I sent you earlier?”

“Uh huh. It’s under my desk,” your face twitches funnily before you lick your lips. “It’s not secretly a…bomb…is it?”

You parse the question out tentatively and Tony blinks up at you.

“I would never do something so irresponsible.”

You squint, bright eyes still locked on whatever you’ve got running on the computer.

“Mmm, you kind of already have though.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when the man smiles at you, blue eyes sparkling in amusement.

“I see what you’re trying to do right now, and it won’t work.”

“Oh you do? Well that’s okay because I distinctly remember a certain Armored Avenger crashing into the side of this building a month ago.”

“I’ll have you know, I was thrown, actually.”

You give a little nod randomly to the screen before addressing him.

“Whatever,” you sniff. “I could’ve died.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, the world's shittiest boyfriend award goes to me. Thanks.”

He’s going for playful dismissiveness, but if the look you throw at him is any indication he missed by a mile and ended up firmly at the corner of much too needy and much too self deprecating.

“Don't punch down, it looks bad on you. You still ended up saving me.”

“I don’t think the good deed counts if I caused the problem in the first place.”

“In this case we'll make an exception,” you frown at whatever’s on your screen but Tony doesn’t really know what to do at your reassurance. Eventually you fill the silence the room descends into.

“You’re good, though? Not slowly dying from some weird alien goo or anything?”

In a bid to dismiss your clear worry Tony waves his hand, “I’m fine, really. Just was in the area…Wanted to see you,” he shrugs. “Make sure you haven't opened that box.”

Tony gives himself a good chuckle before realizing the room’s other occupant isn’t laughing. His head whips to the side and his eyes widen. You’re cringing.

“Oh shit! You did? Honey...I...uh…” he trails off as you turn off your camera and slowly turn to him. Your face is pinched in guilt and embarrassment, and would you look at that, Tony feels like shit now.

“Hold on, Y/n, I’m not upset about it, just shocked I’m apparently rubbing off on you this much, and embarrassed.”

Your shoulders drop and you tap your manicured nails in succession once before your grimace turns into a soft smile.

You let out a small chuckle, “What’s so wrong with the gift you’d be embarrassed about it?”

“It’s just…uh…” he looks up at you and you smile.

“Proof that you care?”

He waves his hands around.

“No! I mean, yea- it just wasn’t supposed to come today.”

You nod sagely and place the gift, a beautifully crafted gold band set, gently atop your folder of doom.

“What exactly do you…think about them, though?”

Tony watches avidly as you chew on your lip for a moment.

He didn’t think after all you’d been through this would be the catalyst for you breaking up with him, but he really doesn’t want to disappoint you either.

It didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot and could go toe to toe with Tony’s own brand of witt.

Neither of you take your eyes off the other as you suddenly push your chair back so you’re facing him. The moment you kick off one of your heels your boyfriend’s gaze locks on your bare foot. Tony’s breath hitches as you lift the fullness of your right leg up in front of his face. You slip the golden garter from your toes up to settle at the middle of your thigh, delighting in the way the hero tracks its trajectory.

Sliding the two thin gold cuffs up to your left forearm elicits the same amount of infatuation. After you finish putting on his gifts you meet his eyes and can't help the smile that tugs at your lips.

“Is that answer enough for you?” You lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “I love them, Tony. Thank you.”

Tony stares up at you, goofy grin taking over his face before he shifts to physically pat himself on the back. You laugh at him and turn back to your computer.

“Alright, yeah! Good on me. Best boyfriend of the year award firmly secured!”

You give him a little subdued upturn of your lips while flicking back on your camera. The meeting you’re in is still droning on without you.

“I won’t disagree with you, Tee,” you smirk. “Though that is a completely made up award.”

He squawks at your accusation, never mind that it was true.

You pay no further mind to his outburst except to shush him as you begin once again listening to what sounded like your team lead giving you all a hell of a talking to.

He takes to idly fiddling with his emergency screwdriver and the landline that was on your desk for the half hour it takes for your meeting to wrap up. He finds and disables a S.H.I.E.L.D tracker, two of Fury’s information gathering bugs, and one of his listening devices that was thankfully not transmitting -goddamn paranoid asshole- within the first twenty minutes.

Each time he finds something, identifies it and takes it apart, he shows it to you and by the time he’s fished out the last “addition” you look heavily irritated.

“Alright, yes, thank you for letting me listen in Ma’am…Mhm…Goodbye to you as well,” you say before logging off.

You turn to Tony, still cross legged on the floor, and your face goes from mildly irritated to furious in seconds.

“What the hell?”

Tony scowls at the ruined tech, “What the hell, indeed. Why would the General be tracking you?”

You shake your head.

“I work a desk job,” you say deadpan. “So it can’t be that, but I'd bet a lot that someone found out about us.”

“I want in on that bet,” Tony jokes lowly, dropping the ruined pieces of S.H.I.E.L.D tech into his pocket.

You rub at your forehead and Tony makes a soft noise before getting up on his knees and grabbing the hand that’s in your lap. He squeezes it softly.

“Don’t stress yourself out, I'll deal with it, okay? No one messes with my woman and gets away with it.”

You return the soft hold and snort as y’all lock eyes. Tony smirks and kisses the hand in his grasp. You smile softly down at him, bracing your elbow on the desk and leaning your head on your free fist.

“Your woman, huh?”

He can tell you’re putting on a brave face by how quickly your laughter fades after that. How fast your expression and tone goes from playful to something duller, and he knows he’s going to try and cheer you up before he even comes up with an actual plan.

“Yup.”

He winks at you, signature smirk softened around the edges, and you scoff while flicking his nose.

“Oh? Does that make you ‘my man’ then?”

“You’re damn right it does.”

You both let out quiet laughs while holding each other’s gazes. Dark lashes brush against brown skin when you blink and your eyes go half lidded, thumb running over his knuckles. It’s enough to make a grown man blush honestly.

Tony loves when the combined energy between you both sparks like this. It makes his body tingle in a way it never has with any of his past partners.

Sunset used to make him warm all over but it was never a good kind of warm, she used to make him feel lacking with nothing but pretty words and a flutter of her lashes. Tiberius didn’t make him feel like anything less than the shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Rumiko was like spring, blooming flowers and soft grass, but her dad had ripped her away the second he found out she was seeing a Stark so he’d never gotten to feel how they sparked. Janet made him want to dance and sing, her heat was like kinetic energy on a dance floor, but he was never a physical activity type of guy and she’d needed Hank more than him so their spark had fizzled out. Pepper and him had had a good run but in the end they hadn’t been what the other needed, but she was much more content with Happy anyway.

But you?

You made him calm like fall. All cool gusts of air and falling leaves when you looked at him during your rare moments of stillness together. Moments that made him want to fall into that pile of leaves and never come out. You pull him in like the world would stop revolving without you.

Your lips meet in a soft kiss.

You sigh against his mouth, hand moving to tilt his chin up more securely. He leans up to meet you halfway and you lean down to close the gap without a second thought. You and Tony devour each other slowly. You taste like coffee, like fall, and he’s desperate for it.

When you break apart neither of you are out of breath but he’s sure his eyes are just as dilated as yours. You’re only a hair's width apart as you breathe each other's air and he maps the intricacies of your face.

His eyes light up as he gets an idea.

“How bout’,” he pecks you on the lips before pulling back. “I cheer you up.”

“How so?” you ask, the smile you give him is wistful but the brown of your dark eyes twinkle.

Tony shivers. Your eyes only take on that mischievous sparkle when you’re planning or when you smell blood in the water and have somebody pegged. Tony usually likes the outcome of either of those.

There’s a twist to that usual assessing stare right now though.

You’re looking at Tony in the way Tony’s decided is reserved only for him. His stomach flutters. He’s not a particularly observant guy when it comes to normal people’s (ie: people that aren’t trying to kill him, use his money for villainy, or are who he fights beside) social cues, he accepted that years ago, but even he could tell that you were soft on him.

He throws you a heated look before adjusting his position on the carpet and moving down. He coaxes your legs apart with gentle touches before leaning in to plant a kiss on the soft inside of your thigh.

“I think I can come up with something,” he murmurs.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is not all canonical (obviously). Also mind any typos I’ll get to them eventually.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

[nekrosdolly]

washing machine heart (18+)

toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart, baby bang it up inside.

cw; implied cheating, workplace romance, reader is the bad guy here, hurt/no comfort, eventual sex, p in v, afab reader, vulnerable wesker

pet names; dear (reader receives)

a/n; i love mitski and angst

albert isn't a stalker. not normally. he's observant, for good reason- he has to be. if he wasn't alert at all times, his life would be on the line.

that's the justification he gives himself for watching you so casually flirt with chris, and chris flirting right back. it makes his heart tick in just the worst way imaginable. his stomach tenses, a searing wave of heat washing over his back. he hates this.

you're unaware of the watchful eyes on you. how albert wesker feels about you is none of your concern, mainly because you don't work for him. and maybe it's because of that fact that you enjoy flirting with his crew so shamelessly. touching chris's arm, watching his cheeks pinken so slightly from it. chris's hand finds your waist and just as you're leaning closer, the bell signaling the end of the workday rings.

you smile seductively at Chris. "well… i've gotta go, but i'll swing by sometime, okay? pinky promise." you give the bigger man's bicep a light squeeze and then make your exit.

it hurts. albert wesker is actually hurt.

he goes home late that night after finishing some much needed paperwork, his thoughts only on you as he drives. you, again, as he gets out of his car and locks it. you, accompanying him inside while holding his arm.

and you, in his bathroom as he showers. it's not always sexual, he's a more emotionally complex man than he'd like to admit. when he imagines you with him, you're always clinging to him somehow.

sometimes, you're holding his hand as he walks through the r.p.d, other times you're kissing him with all you've got and he can't say no. if only that was real. at 38, he's accepted his life of solitude. he can't exactly have a partner with what's to go down soon anyway. it's best if he abstained.

and he does, for the most part. he goes to work, watches you flirt with chris, or barry, or jill, or even rebecca- whoever you feel like- and then goes home. rinse and repeat for weeks.

that is, until your flirtatious gaze falls on him for once. your touches on his shoulder don't go unnoticed. of course, you get little physical reaction out of him. nothing but a measly blush as he brushes your hand away.

then, you stick around until all the other s.t.a.r.s officers are gone, and it's just you and him at the end of the day.

"hey, al?" you give him a small smile, almost shy. a blush tints your cheeks, your eyes more innocent now.

"yes?" he looks up from his paperwork, still sat at his desk. pen in hand, a metric ton of papers sat on either side of his desk.

"well… i was wondering," you start, approaching his desk nervously. he stops his paperwork completely. his heart is pounding in his ears, "if you'd like to go out with me sometime."

this must be a joke.

"dear," he adjusts his glasses, "you're joking." he states plainly.

"no, i'm not. i mean it." you step closer, so you're directly in front of his desk. he leans back in his chair and sets his pen aside, his gaze fixed on you from behind his shades.

"when?"

"tonight."

"where?"

"the bar."

"what time?"

"when are you off?"

"seven."

"eight, then."

"fine. don't be late. goodbye."

successful, you walk out of his office feeling light on your feet.

the date goes well. you two drink and he's surprisingly charming under the layers of stoicism and otherworldly nerdiness. he wonders if he's dreaming the entire time. he's wanted this for so long, and now that it's happening, he feels… anxious. like he's waiting for the shoe to drop. you're stunning. too good for him, for who he really is, not the facade he's putting on now.

-

the other shoe drops in a way he wasn't expecting.

you're almost a year into your relationship. he's working all the time. it's hard for you, even harder on him to be away from you. his days off are few and far between, which he cherishes every chance he gets. while he's not the utmost affectionate person in the world, he tries. and he tries so hard for you.

"oh my god," you whine quietly as he takes you from behind, your back arched with your faced pressed into the mattress. this was meant to be quick- you have errands to run and a job to go to, all within the span of two hours. he's thrusting into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, soft groans and breathy moans leaving him, too.

you're stupidly close, especially with how he's rubbing your clit. your cunt flutters before clamping down on his dick, a loud moan leaving you.

"fuck, chris, oh my god!" you whimper as you finish.

albert has never been an angry man.

"what?" he's pulling out and tucking himself away. it settles in just exactly what you've said. just how much you've revealed within a matter of mere seconds. you turn over and sit up against the headboard.

"why did you- what is going on? tell me. tell me right now." he sits down on the bed, his hands clasped in front of him on his lap.

"nothing is going on." you're a bad liar. you always have been.

"then what was that? why?" he's nauseated. upset. betrayed. he loved you, let you in when he swore he wouldn't, kissed your scars and told you that you're the only thing he lives for.

"i-i don't- you- it's not what you think, honestly." it's too late. he's getting off the bed, running his hand through his hair as he paces. this is his karma for living. you. agonized, he leans against the doorframe to the ensuite bathroom and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you're sleeping with him, then. that's it. that's all it is, right? just sex, not- not love, is that right?" he can't bring himself to look at you.

"he- chris keeps me company, al. you're always so busy, and it's not my fault-"

"not your fault? what, so it's my fault?"

"i didn't say that,"

"you didn't have to. i knew something was going on from the start- you always liked him more than me, so why am i even here?" he might cry.

you're grimacing.

"can't i love you at the same time i love him?"

"no! why can't you love me!? did you ever love me? was i even on your radar?" he throws his glasses on the bed and covers his eyes, trying to will away the tears.

you approach him and he stumbles back against the bathroom door.

"don't do this to us." he whispers, taking his hand away. his gaze lingers on the floor.

"it's too late."

[valya-kingoftherats]

Bills would've been better

Mia brings Jane the letters. All from the fanclub you've somehow amalgamated. The one that you wish didn't exist.

And being the idiot that you are, you read them.

You're lying on the floor in your base, cold concrete doing wonders for your migraine. Sprawled out on your back with a little stack of loose papers beside you. One held up above your face.

They're more or less all the same. Glorified thank you notes. But reading them doesn't fill you with any sense or pride. They just make you feel hollow. More than before.

You are a pathetic excuse of a villain for one. What exactly have you done so far? Had a temper tantrum about an exhibit about your past at a museum. Stood at some protests and fought the LDPD to keep them back and put them in their place. Harassed government officials to improve the living standards in low-income communities. Picked away at removing corrupt politicians from power. Which will never work. There will always be another to replace. An endless cycle you are ultimately powerless against.

Worthless.

Why did you ever think you could stand a chance against the farm? It's completely unobtainable. Out of your league. Pathetic. What's one stupid telepathic regene with power armour versus an entire establishment? You are a fool if you ever really thought you stood a chance.

The next letter is from a kid. Pink glittery pen scrawl that hurts your eyes in the low light. You don't want to move so straining your eyes to read it is.

Another thank you note. For how Entropy mysteriously got the construction company to leave his neighbourhood alone. The project terminated and the houses and families that live in them safe and undisplaced. The CEO paid off everyone's mortgage as consolation for the stress and an apology for thinking them so easy to toss aside. Entropy is his hero.

Hero. That's not what you are. Aren't supposed to be. Never was.

None of them know what they're idolizing. You are nobody's hero. You're done with that. Ended horribly. But no matter what you try, you seem to be bound to fail time and time again at playing the villain. All you've done is hurt Julia.

Maybe that's enough to make you the bad guy. It feels like it.

The next five letters are from employees from a local grocery store. They're unionized now. Thanks to Entropy.

Fucking hell, you hardly even pass for anything more then a glorified crosswalk guard. Holding people's hands and leading them from point A to point B.

They would've got there eventually, with or without you. You're sure of it.

If any of them knew the truth about what you are, they wouldn't be quick to attach themselves to you. How many would turn you in? Send you back?

The good life is only meant for real people. Which — you yank the sleeve of your hoodie back up over your wrists — you are more than well aware that you aren't.

Two more letters. More of the same. Work you don't need armour for. You could've done that with street clothing and sunglasses. Show up, adjust some minds, problem solved. Anonymous neighbourhood watchdog.

Four official letters from the charities you last hit up. Donated thousands, stolen from real villains. They're grateful. One of them wants to meet in person. Thank you. It isn't happening. You are not something to be shown off.

Too many people looking up to you. It makes you feel sick. You are the last person who deserves that. Nobody's hero. You couldn't save people you cared about when it counted.

You can't even find reason to even attempt to save yourself.

Look at you. Reading a dozen painfully heartfelt letters, and what does that make you feel? Like everyone would be better if you never came back from the dead. Were never here at all.

Maybe that makes you the villain. Because you must truly be awful to think the things you do. To do the things to yourself that you do in response. Because nobody in their right mind would want to kill themselves after hearing about how beloved they are. How many lives they've changed.

Selfish and pathetic.

A successful failed career. You switched sides only to do more good than you ever did as a hero. And none of it is even remotely useful to achieve your goals.

Not goals. Pipedream. Because there really is no way you can take down the farm. Not continuing on like this.

Right now, not continuing on sounds like the best course of action.

You let the last letter fall from your grasp. Watch it flutter down and land beside you. You don't know what it says. It doesn't matter. More false admiration for someone who doesn't deserve it. Someone who only tangentially exists.

Jane needs to get rid of the letters next time Mia hands them to you. And Entropy needs to toughen up and be the fucking bad guy. And Valya needs to take down that stupid fanclub website.

But none of that will get done. Because it's so much easier to construct new and creative ways to hurt yourself. Even just mentally. Remind you of what you are. Of how you will never be one of them. Never fit in. Never be truly deserving of being the hero everyone writes letters to thank.

You're more likely to actually take down the farm than to become a person deserving of that.

[mrsnancywheeler]

Billy & Muse in the early days are so 'Superman' coded... I never realized that before.

"He puts papers in his briefcase and drives away / To save the world or go to work / It's the same thing to me"

It's his muse in the beginning before all the whole 'I hate you, we break up, you call me, I love you' shenanigans that ensue throughout the early days of the situationship (if you wanna even call it that/whatever ***That*** situation is called)

"I wonder if he knows how much that I miss him / I hang on every word you say"

Need I say more?

"Come back, I'll be with you someday / I'll be right here on the ground / When you come back down"

I feel like this can be taken as either when Billy leaves on tour and Muse stays behind for whatever reason.. or when Billy goes on a bender and the two fight, he tells her to leave, and eventually gets her to come back around when he's sober; gives 'when you come back down' a different meaning.

"He's complicated, he's irrational"

Poor tortured artist Billy :( (sarcasm) but since he has that duel complex of thinking he's some tortured artist but also the best fucking thing since sliced bread... and toss in his short fuse and well... complicated and irrational is he.

"'He's not all bad like his reputation' / And I can't hear one single word they say"

... so 'they' being Eddie... maybe Daisy too. But mainly Eddie. Mainly Eddie trying to convince her that Billy's no good for her (but simultaneously not being the best choice for her either—)

"And I watch you fly around the world / And I hope you don't save some other girl"

The heartbreak when Billy tells her for the first time that 'she's just some groupie' and that 'he has a lineup of girls who would be fine with just the bare minimum' and 'he's billy fucking dunne and she's just... a groupie'

And just that horrible horrible feeling Muse gets when she's away from him after he says those things to her because what if he really does 'save' some other girl after he kicks her out for a day or two...

But then here he comes with flowers and sweets and a half-assed verbal apology followed by make-up sex and...

Well, we know how the rest goes.

wait, you're so right

whatever is that he's doing is life altering for her, his music is life changing, he's an icon, so far above, and she's lost in the daze of it all. his songwriting, him playing the guitar, driving off to the studio before she started coming too. and he totally just starts consuming her thoughts from day one and then once she's got a taste she can't let go. every sweet thing he's ever said is engraved in her brain which is what makes it hurt so much more when he starts switching up.

yes!! he comes back down to reality, he sobers up and comes crawling back to her because he cares about her, he loves her, and he knows that when he's not letting the fame, the fear, take over. and it makes her realize he's much more than the rockstar she became infatuated with because he was endearing but also kind of an ass sometimes, but he can also fluctuate between being so caring to falling into a pit of ego. songs about not being enough (well thanks to daisy encouraging him to write that way) but then he's the shit and nobody can compare.

eddie, daisy, karen, her dad, I'm sure so many people have things to say about being in some sort of situationship with billy dunne. but she can't hear it when she knows at his best it just feels so right, so perfect.

okay and eventually she realizes there will always be groupies, but they're just sex to him (which makes the comments about that being her hurt more) but anyways when she's putting that aside it makes her feel more confident about her place, it's more than just physical. but god, when it's one of those rare times he's kicked her out instead of her leaving and then the thoughts of, 'what if he finds a new me? finds a new girl and then he won't need me anymore' and it's almost enough to make her call first (don't get me wrong there's a time or two when she does but that's for me to write about not in this blurb lmao) but then there's billy at her door and all those thoughts are shaken away because he's so sweet now. and the makeup sex would always be so good-

but we know the drill

[strega-scripts]

“What the hell is a plus 4?”

a random fic i had the urge to write after being given the idea in a strega discord

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The sound of rain droplets hitting the hotel room windows replaced anything that would be silence otherwise. It wasn't much different from their usual nights, but somehow, it felt more awkward tonight.

If you listened closely, the sound of Chidori's pencil going across her paper could be faintly heard, as she had been sat down against the wall of the room, sketching away without a word. She still never let the other two see what she drew even while they were in the room.

There was also the faint sound of keyboard clicking as Jin typed away on his laptop, him being sat down on one of the beds while he looked through their website for requests. Sometimes his face scrunched up as he reads a few of them.

Takaya, however, was entirely silent, having been sat down on the other bed while leaned back, book in hand while he read through with a flat, neutral expression. Sometimes it seemed as though his eyes would glow as it got darker in the room.

All of a sudden, a groan erupted from Jin as he clicked off the site and slammed the laptop shut, although not with much force. He wasn't about to damage that thing, after all.

“That's it, can we please do something else?”

His small outburst confused the other two, of whom looked at him with incredibly lost expressions. Sure, Jin was the most expressive out of them, but still, seeing him antsy was always a surprise.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Takaya questioned him without much understanding, he even seemed a little displeased at his reading being interrupted, though he made a mental note of where he was last.

Chidori didn't say anything, she only stared up at Jin with a confused yet still almost flat expression. Sometimes, it annoyed him, and today was one of those times.

With a huff, Jin slid his laptop off to the side, and opened the drawer of the bedside table closest to him, as he grabbed a deck of cards and closed the drawer back.

“Let's play something.”

He avoided Takaya's question, never being one much for emotions, although that was basically all of them, he was just more prominent this night with it.

“But...”

Chidori began to speak some sort of disagreement, before slowly trailing off and eventually coming to a complete stop with a small sigh. She wanted to get this done, and she wasn't sure why it was such a problem.

“Jin. What troubles you?”

Takaya rephrasing his question got Jin to stop for a moment, he always enjoyed when his leader said his name, because to him, it felt like such a high honor coming from Takaya.

“I just... I don't wanna just sit around. I want to do something, and not in complete silence. Just this once.”

He always hated the rainy days, the ones where it was too heavy for them to be able to go out to do anything or complete any requests. Often it felt like the shadows were more aggressive those nights, too.

With a small sigh, Takaya closed his book and set it off to the side, before moving over to the bed Jin was sat on, and sat across from him with a small nod. That was enough for Jin.

Shortly, Chidori followed suit, as she closed her sketchbook and set it aside where she was sat, then moved over to the bed and sat down in a way that she was sort of beside the both of them.

“Let's play, then.”

Such a simple response from Takaya elicited a small sigh of relief from Jin as he shuffled the deck of cards, if you looked closely, you could almost seem him smiling ever so slightly.

“Thank you both...”

Jin spoke in a more relaxed tone as he tossed out the correct amount of cards to the other two as well as himself. All things considered, this wasn't anything abnormal— them playing games, it was something they did anyways.

But tonight felt different, somehow. Somehow it felt different. Like something bad was going to happen soon and they'd never get this chance again. It was a feeling Jin got often, and though he always brushed it off, he couldn't tonight.

He had a feeling Takaya knew. That scared him a little, but he wasn't about to try and bring it up if his leader didn't. It would save him a conversation he didn't really want to have.

“How do we play this game...?”

Chidori's question snapped him out of his thoughts, it made him realize he never explained what was going on and sort of just tossed cards at them like they had any idea what was going on.

“I'll explain. So...”

The explanation went by smoothly, and so did the game. If anything, it was rather uneventful, but the way Jin's demeaner changed and became more relaxed as time went by was enough to please the other two.

Surprisingly enough, it even seemed as though the other two relaxed as they played as well, it made Jin happy to see even the slightest of smiles on their faces, considering that was something very rare to see.

As the game went by, the rain continued to pour down, but Jin was soon enough able to calmly tune it out just by hearing their voices.

Soon enough, the game would end, with Jin placing first, Chidori second, and Takaya third. It was funny to see him watch as the two played against one another once he lost.

“Good game!”

Jin exclaimed, although he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been trying not to laugh at how confused Takaya seemed to be throughout the entire game. Although, at least he seemed to have fun.

“Nice job.”

Chidori complimented him quietly, she'd like to think she did decently well to at least place second, even if she still lost against Jin in the end, too.

“Good game... although, I do have one question.”

Jin's head perked up at Takaya's question, and while collecting up the loose cards, he looked up at him curiously. He enjoyed this game, so, he had no issue with talking about it more.

“Shoot. What is it?”

Jin smiled at him at he slid the deck back into the pack, and dropped it into the drawer that he took it out from. He wanted to at least stay somewhat organized despite all else.

“What the hell is a plus 4?”

[pennywaltzy]

Desert Race (1/?)

So this is a WIP I started...oh, fifteen years ago? But I ran across it and I definitely want to finish it (maybe for the 2024 round of WIPBB). It's a CSI/CSI: NY crossover with an eventual Nick/Lindsay ship. Enjoy!

Desert Race - It's on between the Vegas labs and the NYPD teams in the Law Enforcement Desert Relay, but unexpected sparks fly between Nick and Lindsay that puts a kink in both Sara and Danny's plans for winning the event.

READ CHAPTER 1

"Don't look at me." Catherine shook her head. "Last time I tried to do it, Grissom found a dead body. I don't want to risk it."

"Come on, Cath," Warrick said, smirking at her. "I heard that the LAPD team isn't holding grudges." In response, she balled up a piece of paper and threw it at him.

"Seriously, though," Sara said. "Someone from the lab has to do it."

"I would, but running and I just don't get along," Greg said. "Surfing would be one thing, but..."

"I already volunteered to be the driver of the poll vehicle," Nick said. "So I'm out."

Sara turned on Warrick, but he shook his head. "Just out of curiosity, is there any reason you want to win but don't want to have to run?" he asked.

"I just...I want to win."

"Then why don't you run?"

"Because if I do I can guarantee we'll lose."

"I don't know," Nick said. "I've seen you out jogging before. We may not place high, but I can assure you if you run we wouldn't lose."

"Besides, this year the only team we really have to worry about is the NYPD team," Catherine said. Everyone looked at her. "What? Just because I'm not participating doesn't mean I don't keep up with the competition."

"Why would we have to worry about them?" Sara asked.

"They've got some really fit runners. Must be all those chases through Manhattan," Catherine said. She turned to the laptop Greg was using in the break room. "Mind if I borrow that for a minute?"

"You break it, you buy me a new one," he said before moving out of the way.

Catherine sat down, tapped in a few keys and a website came up. She scrolled down a bit and stopped. "Okay, some of the teams who have already registered have a list of their participants and poll drivers. I went up against most of these guys, and they're good."

"Any of them you don't know?" Nick asked.

Catherine read through the list. "Just two, from the NYPD team. One's the poll driver, Detective Lindsay Monroe. The other's one of the runners... Detective Daniel Messer."

Nick's head snapped up. "Danny's running?" Everyone's eyes turned towards him. "What?"

"You know him?" Catherine asked. Then she shook her head. "Course you do. He's listed as Daniel, you called him Danny..."

"Knew him back in the college ball days. Didn't know he was a cop." He got off the table he'd been sitting on and walked over to the laptop, looking at the screen. He saw Danny's picture and grinned. "Yep, same guy."

"How well did you know him?" Greg asked.

"He and I tried out for the same minor league team. He got hurt so he dropped, but we hung out a bit. He wasn't a bad guy. A little cocky, but not bad." He shook his head, grinning. "A cop. Never would have seen that one coming."

Sara thought for a moment. "I think I feel my competitive edge coming on... Nick, if you'd help me train, I think I might just do this."

"You're on."

"Then I guess we have a complete team," Catherine said. "Good. I really didn't want to have to run this year..."

---

Danny tossed the baseball up in the air and caught it on the way back down. "Relax, Montana. It's not like we're going to Vegas to get married or something." He heard her choke on her coffee and he turned to look at her. "Okay, that probably wasn't the best time for me to say that..."

"Danny! Don't joke like that."

"What? Flack was ragging on you about it and you just grinned. I do it and I damn near kill you."

Lindsay just looked at him before shaking her head. "Danny, everyone's going to think that we planned this."

"Not my fault you were a last-minute replacement for Stella. We weren't expecting the case to get dragged out so long." He threw the baseball up again. "Got a surprise call from someone I met years ago when I played ball. He's a CSI in Vegas now." He caught it and looked at Lindsay. "Apparently, the Vegas team is making it their personal mission to beat us."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I get the feeling he wasn't supposed to be calling me." Danny grinned. "Nick's a pretty nice guy, doing that. Gives me more incentive to train."

"His name's Nick?"

"Yeah. Nick Stokes." He looked at her. "You'd probably like him. He's a real easygoing guy."

"It'd be nice to meet someone easygoing in this whole mess." She got up and looked at the screen he was looking at. "So what are you looking at?"

"Info on Vegas. Trying to figure out places to go to eat and stuff."

"Ah," she replied. "That would be a good thing to know."

"See, Montana? I'm good for some things other than running my mouth off."

She grinned at him. "Messer...just shut up and find places to eat."

"Yes ma'am."

[littlewalken]

mar 28

That thing where you wonder if you did or didn't need to use a specific something altho the use became sort of redundant but you tell yourself that by using the specific thing you made the inventor happy you used the product in its intended way.

The feeling shall pass.

But honestly is you have ideas for something to do in a fancy notebook but feel unsure about it get one of those reusable notebooks that take a Frixon pen. You can do what ever you want on the pages and if it's good copy it over to your fancy notebook and if not literally wash it away.

I'd also recommend them for people who start a few sentences or paragraphs then end up tossing the paper away when it's not working. You'll end up copying the good stuff to paper or the computer but in the meantime the not so good stuff will never be seen by anyone else.

To give myself enough pages I ended up buying 2 more notebooks and putting them all together. It's a fear I'll run out of pages in a notebook that's too thin bad childhood memories thing. And with the latest use I would have tun out of pages in just one book.

Going out today, where we used to live this destination would be considered a most of the day trip so anything else that needed doing would have to be done in that area. The idea we live a good hour or so down the highway and closer to that place still hasn't sunk in. It's quite literally down the main street we're off of. Still a good 20 minutes or so down that street but still, it's just down that street.

Something about the middle of the night depressive thoughts I eventually have to get on a waiting list to something something.

Then how to explain it's the dyspraxia that I've always had but you never really noticed because paying attention to me hasn't been on your mind for 40+ years. And girls don't get autism. And altho I was in dance class I was purposefully 'doing bad' in gym class because I'm 'lazy' not because of the wiring in my gross motor skills.

Dyspraxia people often display the inability to catch a ball but can do amazing things with their fine motor skills, thus the wonder of the noggin pudding.

[ftb-writes]

And here's the fill! I have more of it, to eventually continue it to, because Ganymede's one of my favorite Dragonborns I've made. As for the next post, I have a bit of a surprise one. I'll explain next Sunday when its ready!

Ganymede comes too in a pile of filth.

He did not know why he was regaining consciousness in such disgusting places these days, but he had a feeling it was just a natural occurrence for the occupants of Skyrim. It had only begun happening to him after coming to the new country (thanks, General Tullius) and the Nords here never bat an eye when they all pass out drunk in the cowpens, so perhaps there is some strange spatial anomaly going on. He should bring it up to Tolfdir.

"You alright there, friend?" A dark elf leans over him. Ganymede thinks he recognizes him from that corner club here in Windhelm -- the proprietor, he thinks, or was the other man the proprietor? The man's name eludes him at the moment, especially with the rapidly developing pounding in his skull. Something with an 'A'?

The man is beginning to give Ganymede an odd look, and it occurs to Ganymede that the elf is perhaps checking he has not received brain damage of some kind.

"Yes," he rasps, gazing up at the snow falling toward him. "This one is just waiting for the ringing to stop."

The elf chuckles humorlessly. "Looks like you lost a fight with the guards, Khajiit. Don't mind them. They like to rough us non-nords up, sure, but that's about all they're really good for. Have you come alone to Windhelm?"

Ganymede sits up (with immediate regrets at moving) to take the elf's offered hand. "Ah, no, friend," he explains with a wince, "this one came to Windhelm with a… business partner. He went and got lost in this maze of a city while this one wasn't looking. And that's when the guards showed up."

"What's he look like? I'll send someone out to find him while we get some healing potions in you." The elf carefully helps Ganymede across the snowy road, and looks up, back over his shoulder. The Khajiit had been hurled from the parapets above, a nearly three-story fall, and was walking away. Just who is this cat?

"This one thanks you," Ganymede assures, "but it will not be needed. He will find us, it just may take a bit."

Ambarys and Malthyr are behind the counter of the corner club, discussing the strange Khajiit they have boarding upstairs, when a Nord with bright red hair and a black and red jester's outfit bursts through the door, waving a paper frantically at them.

"Have you seen the Listener, Cicero's lost him, Cicero needs him back, poor Mother needs the Listener, she's going to be so angry with poor Cicero, please tell Cicero he's here, Cicero has been all over the city looking for him!" He says all this very fast, practically in the same breath. Like a whirlwind, he spins on his heels to take in the dining room and then turns back to them, a crazed desperation in his eyes.

"I--" Ambarys starts to ask, reeling, before the Nord slaps the paper (a rather bad drawing of the Khajiit upstairs) onto the counter loudly.

"He's a cat and he's very friendly, but not too friendly in that perfect just-the-right-amount-of-friendly kind of way, which is why he makes such a good Listener, and he's got gray fur and black eye spots and he's got a big scar on his nose from a bear, and it's very important Cicero brings him home in one piece, please tell poor Cicero you've seen him." The Nord (Cicero, Ambarys supposes) is almost crying, pulling anxiously at his hat's points.

"Up the stairs, third bed on the left," Malthyr cuts in before the newcomer can get going again. The Nord tosses a handful of gold onto the counter hastily and bolts through the backdoor and up the stairs. They can hear him cross the second floor in a flurry of footsteps.

"Oh Listener, thank Sithis," they hear the Nord gasp, followed by a thump and creak from the bed and a soft laugh from the Khajiit.

"What took you so long, my Cicero? This one was beginning to worry."

"You? You? What about Cicero?! Cicero thought the Listener was dead, Cicero couldn't find the Listener anywhere, and then that damned guard said he'd beat you, and Cicero saw red. Cicero's only just escaped that rat's nest of a jail."

There is a very pregnant pause, and then the Khajiit and the Nord begin chuckling together. "Oh, my Cicero," the Khajiit says, "never change."

Ganymede wakes again to a finger poking him in the arm.

"Mister Ganymede," Malthyr whispers, setting a candle on the table by the bed. "There's a member of the Thieves' Guild here looking for you two. And he's also ginger."

Ganymede can hear the hidden laughter in Malthyr's voice, and rolls his eyes. "So, this one has a type," he grumbles. "It's probably Brynjolf. Let him up."

Cicero mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and curls closer as Malthyr leaves, chasing the warmth trapped in Ganymede's fur. The jester cracks an eye open when they hear boots on the stairs. "Cicero is cold," he complains quiet.

"Well, lad," Brynjolf's voice, smooth as honey, comes from the doorway. "Best get you warmed up."

"Brynie," Cicero mumbles happily, reaching over Ganymede to wiggle his fingers into the gloom. The light through the cracks in the walls is faint, and it is silent as a grave outside. Ganymede realizes it must be very late, and that Brynjolf would have ridden into the night to get here now.

The thief himself steps into the candlelight, grinning, and scoops Cicero out of bed to settle next to Ganymede, depositing the very sleepy jester into the small space between them.

"Cicero, Brynjolf murmurs, "I hear you got arrested, naughty little thing. Stop causing so much trouble for us, attacking guards."

"He said he hurt the Listener," Cicero whines. "Brynjolf, you'd have punched him too if you heard what that bastard said about Listener."

"If you two wouldn't mind, could we discuss this later?" Ganymede wraps an arm over the two Nords beside him and yawns. "It's just, this one just got the headache to stop."

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," Brynjolf orders.

"Yes, Brynie," Cicero grumbles, before cuddling into him and falling right back to sleep.

Nords, Ganymede sighs to himself.

Markarth is a sprawling city of roughly a hundred, and Ganymede knows from experience that the phrase, 'blood and silver flow through Markarth' is terrifyingly true.

"Are you alright, lad?" Brynjolf and Cicero flank him as he gazes up at the front gates of the city. The thief had insisted on coming after the Windhelm incident to help keep Cicero better behaved.

"Listener has been awfully quiet," Cicero agrees, leaning into Ganymede's space to blink owlishly at him.

"This one," Ganymede starts, but the words stick in his throat. He swallows, and starts again. "This one did not think he would ever be back here."

"I've heard Cidna Mine is the worst prison in all of Skyrim," Brynjolf murmurs. "And you spent nearly a month there, right?" The Nords loop protective arms through the Khajiit's, ready as always to support Ganymede in all his endeavors, but they are surprised when Ganymede smiles and shakes his head.

"This one had it pretty easy in the Mine," he chuckles. "Had a few associates on the inside who helped this one. It's something else." Ganymede's smile fades. "Something worse."

"Champion," a gruff voice interrupts from behind them and the trio turn to see Markarth's resident dog breeder, who is smiling genially at Ganymede.

"Oh, Banning," Ganymede nervously returns. "How's everything been?"

"Business is good, but the table has been lonely without you," Banning grunts, not unkindly. "You'll be coming to dinner tonight, won't you? Our Lady would be happy to have you, and I'm sure your friends here would enjoy the meal." The smiles he directs between Cicero and Brynjolf are slightly less friendly and more unnerving, and both the Nords are shocked when they feel goosebumps rising along their skin. Something is distinctly off about this man, though he clearly means no harm to Ganymede.

"Ah, sorry, Banning," Ganymede is saying, and they watch Banning's face fall. "This one is on urgent business. For, ah, for our Lady, really, so she understands already!" The Khajiit has a shaky smile on his face, obviously uncomfortable but with no easy way of backing out of this conversation. "You understand, old friend?"

"Of course, Champion," the dog breeder mumbles. "Our Lady's dinner comes first."

As he walks back to the stable, the redheads beside Ganymede hurry Ganymede into Markarth and into an abandoned building Ganymede motions to. The Khajiit almost collapses, knees giving way beneath him, and the cat sinks into a dusty chair and begins loosing rattling breaths.

"You are part of the Coven of Namira, Listener," Cicero asks gently, setting a cautious hand on Ganymede's knee.

"It just sort of happened, all too fast," Ganymede murmurs, eyes far away. "This one didn't realize what was really happening until it was too late to stop."

"I've heard whispers," Brynjolf says. "What is it, exactly? I've never seen our dragonborn so shaken, Cicero."

"A coven of cannibals," Ganymede breathes, suddenly hoarse. He won't look at either of them, instead turning his gaze between the floorboards and a ring he pulls from his pocket. It's got a magical green tint to the gold metal.

"This one ate a man's heart for this," he whispers, closing his fingers around it. For a moment, his fist reels back, like he wants to throw it further into the abandoned house. He doesn't, tucking it away again with a sigh. "Namira speaks to this one through it. This one… wishes to be rid of the thing, but everytime, this one remembers--"

Ganymede abruptly stands. "We should go," he mumbles. "Let's get our business over with and get out of this cursed city."

Brynjolf and Cicero follow him out, and silently agree to not pry any further.

[joachimnapoleon]

Doomed to Be Our Bane - Excerpt [Caroline's POV]

(NaNoWriMo 2021 - Day 29)

(An exhausted and ill Murat has just returned to Naples after leaving the remnants of the Grande Armée under Eugène's command; he reunites with Caroline at Caserta on 31 January 1813. Awaiting him are some letters from Napoleon...)

***

"I don't want to talk to you of the displeasure I feel at your course of conduct since my departure from the army, for that is the result of your weakness of character. However, I have thought it right to give my opinion of it frankly to your wife, the Queen of Naples. You are a good soldier on the field of battle, but elsewhere you have neither energy nor character. I presume you are not one of those who think the lion is dead. If you count on this you make a mistake. Since my departure from Vilna you have done me all the harm you could. The title of king has turned your head. If you want to keep that title you must conduct yourself differently from what you have so far done. The opportunity for reinstating yourself in my good opinion will not be long before it presents itself."

Joachim crumpled the paper up and tossed it into the fire.

"An opportunity to reinstate myself in his good opinion," he said dryly. "How very generous of him. I wonder when he might be able to reinstate himself in mine."

Caroline was silent.

"Well, out with it then," Joachim pressed. "He says he gave you his frank opinion of me. You might as well show it to me. I'm sure it could hardly be worse than this letter combined with his public humiliation of me in the Moniteur on the 27th."

But, Caroline knew, it was worse. She had intentionally concealed the letter from him since his return, knowing full well the effect it would have on him.

"I would... really prefer that you don't read it," she said. "At least not right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that bad?"

"It is. And I don't want you to be so angry, especially when your health is as delicate as it is at the moment.”

She had been shocked at the sight of him upon his return to Caserta at the end of January. He was thinner than she had ever seen him, even in the wake of his illness in Spain; his complexion was jaundiced, his eyes dark. Every spark of joy that had ever existed in him seemed to have been snuffed out, and when they embraced in the first moments of their reunion, she felt nothing in him but relief and a weariness that seemed to come from the depths of his soul. He slept for fourteen hours uninterrupted his first night back with her, but it had not refreshed him as she had expected it to. He had shown no interest so far in discussing the affairs of the kingdom.

Nor would he talk about the war. For as long as she had known him, he had loved telling war stories, regaling her with his exploits in battle, and those of his comrades-in-arms. He had never even shied away from giving her the most shocking details of the past campaigns, not because he had wanted to horrify her, but because she had always insisted on it. She could never go into the field with him, could never share this one thing--war--that had been so central to his life, to his very being, for his entire adult life. But unlike so many of her female friends, who were content to remain detached from this aspect of their soldier-husbands' lives, it troubled her to think that she could never fully understand him as long as this subject remained so abstract, so opaque. It took some coaxing before he was willing to indulge her desire to know the full, unvarnished truth of his experiences, but eventually he had come to confide in her easily, and it had strengthened their bond.

This time it was different. He had told her only: It was terrible. Terrible beyond anything you can possibly imagine. And so far, he had refused to elaborate any further.

"Show me the letter," he insisted, holding out his hand. "We might as well just get it all out of the way at once."

"But Joachim..."

"It'll be worse for me to have the suspense hanging over my head than to just read it now and be done with it."

She reluctantly retrieved the letter and handed it to him. He unfolded it and read it aloud.

"Your husband, the King of Naples, deserted the army on the 16th. He is a brave man on the battlefield, but he is--" he stopped, his eyes widening as they scanned the words. His cheeks reddened.

Caroline held her breath.

"He is weaker than a woman or a monk when he is not in sight of the enemy," Joachim's voice quavered. "He has no moral courage. I leave it to you to express to him all the displeasure I have felt at his conduct in this matter."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why? You didn't write it," he snapped. He tore the paper into shreds and consigned them to the fire along with the blackened remnants of the first letter. "Damn him."

"You know how he can be," she said in a soothing tone. "And I'm sure he must be under a great deal of str--"

"Don't make excuses for his despicable treatment of me," he said. "Yes, I know how he can be. He can be a rank hypocrite, accusing me of ingratitude while he repeatedly insults me in the most vile manner after I sacrificed eight months away from my family on his behalf, suffering through cold and starvation and horrors the likes of which you cannot possibly begin to fathom. And how many years of sacrifices before that? All for him! And this--" he gestured at the burning letters, "--is the thanks I get. He can abandon the army and all is fine and well; I do the same thing and I am weaker than a woman and a monk; and Paris gets to read in the Moniteur how much more capable Eugène is than me!"

"Please, my love, you must calm yourself. You are already very ill and if you keep up like this, you will be bedridden with a fever in no time. I tried to tell you--"

"One day, Caroline," and there was a sudden calm in his tone, "that man is going to regret the way he's treated me. One day very soon."

"What do you mean? Joachim?"

He regarded her in silence for a moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as if he were on the brink of divulging something to her; whatever it was, he seemed to decide against it.

"Nevermind, my dear. I think I'm going to lay down for a while."

"Yes. Yes, please get some rest." She drew him towards her and kissed him; his cheek was unnaturally warm. She sighed. They would be returning to the capital tomorrow, but she doubted he would be in any condition to meet with his ministers and resume handling the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom for some time.

But at least he would finally be able to see the children again.

[libraryofloveletters]

Ok awesome so I kinda want an angsty young to present thing with hotch and the reader? (If that even makes sense) Like hotch was a bit older than her but they went to law school together? And she was always sorta bratty and sneaky but he loved her anyway? And like a past scene with him bailing her out of jail because she got in a fight and then present she gets mad at the unsub and he has to 🌌discipline🌌 her? Sorry if you don't understand or don't want to do it, and thank you for your time!

Let’s Do It Again  

Aaron Hotchner x Reader 

Warnings: Fem!reader, cursing, use of the word “slut”, mentions of prostitution, being in jail, illusions of sex/hooking up, a little steamy making out.

Category: Angst

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Hopefully I've written it the way you liked hun! 

*Bolded Italics are flashbacks*

----

15 years ago. 

That’s when you met Aaron Hotchner. He only had a year left of law school while you had just started that year. He was the TA in your ethics of justice class, he always left snarky remarks on your papers even if you got an A. You were tired of his sarcasm so you went to go see him. 

“Come in” he called from the other side of the door. You walked in and shut the door behind you, 

“Y/n, what can I-” 

“What’s your problem ?” 

He looked up and nodded towards the chair in front of his desk, you sat down. “Is something wrong?” he asked, tapping his pen on the inside of his palm. “What’s with the comments on my papers? There’s literally nothing wrong with them. You give me an A and then write about how I haven't figured out how to write it properly. How does that make sense?” Aaron laughed. 

Is this guy seriously fucking laughing right now ? 

“I wondered how long it would take for you to come see me. The first time was a mistake, I thought your paper was Mr. Shelby’s and I meant to scribble it out but I forgot. When I saw your face, I had to keep doing it. It was too funny not too” He told you. You weren't sure if you should laugh or be embarrassed, you just yelled at your TA because he made a mistake.

“Okay well.. stop that shit” you picked up your bag and walked out before he could say anything else to you. 

From that day on, you and Aaron developed a strange friendship. You fought constantly but you supported and helped each other whenever you could. 

The two of you worked together at the BAU. He was the unit chief and your name was up for a position on the team. You had forgotten that you applied, but when you got the call, you accepted the position without even questioning it or asking for details. 

You walked in on your first day to be greeted by a brightly dressed woman. “Oh! You must be y/n! I've heard so much about you!” She gushed as she walked you up to the unit chief’s office. She introduced herself as Penelope, you automatically knew you’d like her.

“Really ?” you looked at her, “from who?” you asked. 

“Well, the boss man of course!” She walked you to the door, knocking on it before opening it. The name on the door read Aaron Hotchner 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Aaron was going to be your new boss ? You’re in for a hell of a ride. 

“Sir, the new agent is here” she smiled, letting you step in before stepping out herself. “Y/n, good to see you again” He smiled at you from his desk. “Aaron” you nodded before sitting on his desk. “Still hate chairs huh?” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes. 

You were in his office watching him mark papers. You wanted to see your mark before you left for the holidays so he told you to come with him and that he would mark yours first. You paced back and forth in his office, moving things around and flipping through the other papers. 

“These suck major balls. I feel bad that you’ve got to mark these” 

“Yeah, yours is the worst.” 

The two of you chuckled. “Can you sit down? I can’t focus with you moving around constantly” you rolled your eyes at him “yeah whatever” 

You moved your bag off the chair and went to sit down

“y/n! not there!” 

Your ass had already hit the floor, “WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!” 

“Yeah, that chair is broken” he said, trying to hold back his laughter. “Fuck you Aaron” you rolled your eyes, laying back on the floor. “I know you want too but this isn't the time darling” 

His eyes were on the paper, he couldn't see the blush his words brought to your face.

----- 

3 weeks into your job at the BAU and you’re undercover at the bar. You just happened to fit the unsub’s type and somehow Hotch convinced you to go undercover. You’re sitting at the bar flirting with the unsub when he asks you to join him in the bathroom. You mentally groaned, you glanced over at Derek who gave you a nod before you walked off. 

You were in the hallway with him, he walked past the bathroom door. “Hey, you passed the bathroom” you shouted to him, he tugged on your arm and pulled you out the backdoor. You really hoped that Derek and Aaron were out there. 

“F.BI! Put your hands up!” Aaron shouted as Derek tackled him. You stepped over to Spencer who had a jacket waiting for you, “thank you bubba” you smiled at him as he held the jacket for you to put on. Aaron glanced over to you when you called Spencer bubba

Back at the station, you were sitting at the desk as Derek pushed the unsub into the interrogation room. 

“You’re up” Aaron looked at you, 

“Didn’t I do enough tonight ?” you got up and walked to the room. 

“Hello beautiful” the unsub smiled at you, you pushed back the urge to throw up. “It’s actually agent l/n” you said as you sat down, he nodded. “Yeah, makes sense. You're too pretty to go to a bar dressed like a slut” 

“Tell me something” you looked over at him

“Anything darling” he leaned forward. 

“Why’d you do it? They were innocent” he sat there for a minute, taking in what you said. “They were worth nothing, selling their bodies and for what? They’re nothing but a bunch of sluts” he spat. You nodded and chuckled, “what’s so funny agent?” he looked up at you. 

“Just like your momma right?” you asked him, he looked at you confused. 

“Oh you didn’t know? All those nights where she left you to go to work, she was, what did you say? oh yes “selling their bodies and worth nothing” Do you know what I think ? I think that you’re just a sexist son of a bitch that isn’t worth the air he breathes” you smiled at him sweetly before getting up. His face was expressionless, “You’re just like them too agent l/n, a slut that’s worth nothing. I’m sure you only got your position by sleeping with someone” 

You were tired and angry, you weren’t in the mood for his shit. “Shut up” you mumbled. “Oh did I hit a nerve agent ? Why don’t you go relieve some stress with agent Hotchner ?” You looked up at him. 

“What did you say?” 

“You heard me agent” 

You couldn’t handle his attitude, you picked up the chair and threw it at him. Aaron walked in “enough. y/n, get out” you rolled your eyes and pushed passed Aaron. 

You had been helping Spencer pack up the evidence boxes. “I’ve got it bubba, go get something to eat. I’ll put these away and come join you.” you picked up the box from the table, “are you sure?” Spencer asked you before picking up his jacket, you nodded and walked out of the conference room and into the storage room. 

“Y/n, what the hell was that?” Aaron asked you as he walked into the storage room, shutting the door behind him. “What the hell was what?” you asked, pushing the boxes up onto the shelf, “you know exactly what I'm talking about, this is exactly why I had to bail you out years ago” 

---

“I want my phone call!” you shouted at the cops, “I know my rights! I’m a lawyer!” They didn’t listen to you, so you did the logical thing and kept yelling. Eventually, they got fed up of your yelling so they let you have your phone call. You called Aaron even though you knew he’d be pissed. You were sitting in the holding cell for what felt like eternity, “L/n! bail’s been posted” the cop called as you stood up. 

“Hey Hotch” you smiled at him, your heels were in your hands and your hair was a mess. To be completely honest, you were still kinda tipsy but you weren’t going to tell him that. “Stop smiling, let’s go y/n” he took your shoes from you and walked towards the door, opening it for you. 

“Okay grumpy pants, I'm going” you walked to his car, getting in and making yourself comfortable, not before grabbing the sweater he had on his backseat. He tossed your shoes into the back of the car

“Hey! Those are red bottoms, be careful!” 

“I don’t care” he grumbled as he started driving. 

“Who pissed in your cereal?” you asked him 

“Y/n, it’s 4:36 in the fucking morning and I had to come bail you out of jail because you threw a chair at someone. I’m sorry if I'm not in the mood to talk” 

You glanced at the clock in his car, you didn’t realize that it was already morning. “How much was bail?” you mumbled, looking out the window. 

“2 grand” he kept driving.

“WHAT! I DIDN’T EVEN HIT HIM!” you shouted, your head whipping around so fast you probably gave yourself whiplash. 

“Stop yelling. I only paid a grand. I pulled some strings so you own me.” 

----

You chuckled when he brought up that he bailed you out all those years ago. 

“If I remember correctly, I paired you back didn't I?”

“That isn’t the point y/n. What you did in there was wrong, you can’t lose your cool like that.”

You rolled your eyes again. Aaron always had that effect on you, a constant state of eye rolling. “Stop that” he stepped closer to you, you took a step back, your back was against the shelves. “Stop what?” you knew he was talking about your eye rolling, he had always hated it. You love to do it whenever he filled in for the professor, you hated when he taught. He took forever and never let you leave early. 

“Don’t roll your eyes,” he whispered. His lips pressed right to your ear, his cheek against yours. 

“Make me stop”  you challenged him.

He just chuckled “you really don't want to see what I can make you do” 

“Maybe I do” your hands made their way to his hair, tugging on the back of it. 

He kissed you, it was rough and needy. His hands were all over you, the two of you wanted this, you needed this but you were both too stubborn to say anything. He grabbed your ass and squeezed hard enough to leave a small bruise, his lips attached to your neck sucking on your sweet spot. 

You and Aaron had always had a connection between you guys, it was more than sexual. You genuinely cared about each other, the sexual attraction was just a plus. 

30 minutes had passed and the two of you were still in there. The top button of your shirt had come off with Aaron’s tugging, you could see all the hickeys Aaron left on your neck down to your breast. His hair was a mess with a few hickeys on his neck too. There was no denying that you two had just had sex, it was so obvious. Even if you came out at separate times, the team would figure it out. 

“Well, that was fun” you ran your hand through his hair, trying to settle it from all your pulling. 

“It was” he gave you a small kiss. 

“Let’s do it again sometime ?” You smiled at him before walking out and shutting the door. 

----

tagging: @iconicc cause she was super excited 

[impalas-r-important]

Branch Out - Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N left everything she's ever known, and Dean just wants to be left alone. With both of them trying to heal from heartache, they might just end up finding what they need in the last place they'd ever look.

Word Count: 6550

Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually, maybe?)

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter, but if you think i should add one, feel free to let me know!

Read Chapter 1

Branch Out Masterlist

My Masterlist

Saturday was a welcome break from work, but there was no sleeping in. A delivery truck brought your bed frame, a small kitchen table, and a coffee table early in the morning and you were over the moon about not having to sleep on the cold floor anymore. You figured the tables would be fairly easy to put together, so you left those for last. You emptied the box with the bedframe and did your best to carefully lay out all the pieces so they would be easy to find as you went along. Before you started, you grabbed your radio and shuffled through your CDs, deciding on The Eagles to be today’s soundtrack.

You threw half of your hair up in a bun to pull the small pieces from your face, rolled up your sleeves, and looked around for the instructions. You couldn’t actually remember seeing any kind of paper as you unpacked the pieces, so you dumped out the box. Nothing. You looked under every piece of wood, and in every corner of your tiny house, but came up empty handed.

“Fan-friggin-tastic…” You grumbled and stared down the lumber and hardware, trying to make sense of this now seemingly impossible puzzle.

Hours had passed, and you had only managed to put together a pathetic amount of the bedframe. The stupid bits and pieces that were strewn across the floor taunted you with every wrong part you picked up. Before any vital pieces ended up getting thrown into the fireplace out of frustration, you decided it would be best to take a break and make some lunch. You needed to make a run to the grocery store and stock your fridge and shelves, but you’d need to wait until you got your truck back, so you kept your fingers were crossed that Bobby would be able to get to it today.

You settled on a protein shake and a banana for your meal and were sitting on the kitchen counter when two quick knocks at the door interrupted your thoughts. You turned the music down a notch and wove your way through the maze of wood that had taken over your living room. You were expecting to see Sarah standing on the other side of your front door but were surprised to find Dean. One hand was slipped into his coat pocket and his shoulders were slightly rounded, showing that he didn’t really want to be here right now.

“Oh,” you did your best to not sound massively surprised but did a bang-up job, “hi.”

“Hey,” he cleared his throat, and a tuft of breath flew from his mouth in the cold air, “I just wanted to say sorry for being kind of a dick last night. I’m not really a people person and I’m definitely not used to having neighbors.” His eyes, which were glued to the ground made their way up to meet yours. “The bars were good though. I ate them all last night. I figured you’d want this back.” He extended his arm holding the plate you had placed the treats on to take over to him.

You tried your hardest to stop the smug smirk that was pulling at the corners of your mouth. “That’s actually a disposable plate.”

“Oh,” he looked down at it, “it’s one of the fancy plastic ones though, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted it back or not…” It was definitely not fancy, but the thought of him scrubbing the sticky blueberry mess off of a cheap plate was completely endearing.

“Well, good as new then.” You smiled and took the plate back from him, making a mental note to only give him paper plates from here on out if the situation arose. You stepped just inside the door and tossed the plastic onto the kitchen counter.

Dean raised an eyebrow as he snuck a peek at the mess that was you house at the moment. “Whoa, did a bomb go off in here?”

You looked around with a sigh. “No, but I’m about ready to blow the whole place up and just start over.” Stepping out of the way, you signaled for Dean to come in out of the freezing cold. He stomped his boots off on the front porch and stepped inside. “I didn’t bring any furniture with me when I moved, so I ordered some online. This mess,” you motioned vaguely around the room, “is supposed to be a bedframe but some genius forgot to put the instructions in the box.”

“How long have you been at it?” Dean stepped closer to the junk yard that had become your living room.

You really didn’t want to answer that question because you figured he’d just tell you what you were doing wrong. “Not that long.” Lying had never been something you were good at. Dean took one look at the guilty look on your face and saw right through it.

“So, all morning?”

“All morning.” You admitted and crossed your arms in shame. For a short second, you could have sworn that you saw a hint of a smile on Dean’s face. He was probably laughing at your miserable handy work.

“Well, for starters, you should put the bedframe together in the bedroom. Not the living room.” He walked around the wood pieces and began organizing them into piles.

“The bedroom is really small, so I figured it would be easier to put the big pieces together out here and then put the whole thing together in the bedroom.” You watched with some distain as he easily began to piece together the headboard. “You don’t have to do that, you know…”

“Do what?” He asked but didn’t look up from his crouched position on the floor.

“Help.” You shrugged. “I heard you loud and clear last night that you aren’t looking for friends.”

Dean paused for a moment. “Maybe I’m just staying for the good music.”

“You like The Eagles?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“One of my dad’s rules to live by is that you should never trust people who wear socks to bed or people who hate The Eagles.”

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.” There it was again, an elusive smile from the self-proclaimed loner. You were sure you saw it this time. “But I do have to say that no one beats the mighty Zep.”

You could respect a guy who loved the classics. “Wow, the good taste in music almost makes up for the crabby attitude.”

Dean knew you were teasing and gave you a fed-up look. “Do you have a drill?” He asked.

You picked up a screwdriver from the counter and held it up. Dean shook his head. “No, an actual drill.”

“I have a hammer…”

A chuckle escaped from Dean’s chest. “You were planning on hammering these screws into your new furniture?”

“I was working with what I had. Don’t judge me.”

Dean stood and amusedly shook his head as he made his way to the door, leaving it open while he walked to his truck and pulled a drill from the toolbox that was in the bed. As you watched, you noticed that your driveway had been cleared of the snow from last night’s flurry and couldn’t help but find that odd. You didn’t hear a truck outside your house this morning.

Dean skipped a few steps up the stairs and hurried inside, taking off his coat once he had shut the door after him. “Can I put this here?” He laid his it over the back of a chair that had been here when you moved in.

“Yeah.” You took one more peek out the window at the plowed path to your house from the road. “Hey, weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to know how my driveway got cleared, would you?”

“You ever heard of a snowplow?” His words dripped with sarcasm, but you were well versed in the language as well.

“A snowplow? Hmm, doesn’t ring a bell. What’s that?” You exaggerated every word, but Dean still looked up at you with furrowed brows before realizing that you were joking.

“I just didn’t realize the plows would come this far up the mountain. I promise I’m not as dumb as I look.” Kneeling a few feet away from him on the floor, you held the piece of wood his was trying to secure in place steady.

“The driver is a buddy of mine, He’s a good guy so he probably just wanted to help out the new girl.” Dean explained. You couldn’t help but feel lucky that you had found a place that was full of kind folks. The headboard was put together in a matter of minutes and Dean carried it into your bedroom with ease before picking out the pieces for the footboard.

“Thank you, Dean. I know this is probably not how you wanted to spend your Saturday afternoon.”

“I like to build things. I built my cabin, so a bedframe is a piece of cake.”

“I guess that’s pretty impressive.” Casually playing that off made Dean slightly smile again. You could tell he was feeling a little more comfortable.

“What are you doing up here all by yourself anyway?” He quickly wiped any traces of emotion from his face.

You shrugged. “I just needed a new start and this place fell in my lap, so I jumped. I might be a little in over my head, but I have to start somewhere, right?”

“Why’d you move?” You thought it bold of him to ask the hard-hitting questions but admired his straightforwardness.

You took a moment to carefully word your response. “Sometimes you just need to take yourself out of an unhealthy situation even if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.”

Dean was surely picking up on your lack of details. “I can respect that.” His eyes fell to the bruise on your arm that he had first noticed a few days before. You self-consciously rubbed the sore spot and felt grateful for the phone ringing that stopped the conversation from progressing any further.

You looked to see that Bobby’s shop was calling and brought the phone to your ear. “Hey, Bobby.”

Dean watched as you slowly paced back and forth by the window. He had felt ridiculous this morning for washing a stupid plastic plate just so he could have an excuse to come over and apologize, but he was glad that risk paid off, even if you did think he was clueless.

As he put the last few screws in the footboard, Dean couldn’t help but overhear the conversation you were having on the phone. You sounded a little disappointed and Dean assumed that Bobby had called with bad news.

“How’s the truck?” Dean asked once you had joined him on the floor and began picking up the spare screws.

“Apparently my truck is an ‘old piece of crap’, and the only battery Bobby had that would fit ended up being a dud. He ordered a new one, but it won’t be in until Monday.”

While Dean agreed that your truck should probably be retired, he felt empathetic that you’d had so many problems with it since moving in. “I’ll give you a ride to work.” The words flew from his mouth before he really thought about what he was saying. That wasn’t normally something he’d offer to do. “If you want, that is.”

“Dean, I can’t ask you to do that…” You were sure at this point that he thought you were just some helpless stupid girl that didn’t know how to do anything for yourself.

“Well, you didn’t ask. I volunteered.”

“Still, you’ve done so much for me in the short time that I’ve been here, I feel like I’m just mooching off of you at this point.”

“I’ve barely done anything.” Dean brushed your statement off, but you knew you were right.

“You gave me a ride on my first day, fixed my battery, you’re here wasting your Saturday helping me put together furniture, and now you’re going to give me another ride to work on Monday. That sounds like mooching to me.”

“Your house and City Hall are both on my way to work. I haven’t been the most welcoming person in the world, so let’s just call it even.”

You could tell that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you got up and went into the kitchen. You opened the cabinet and pulled out another plate of blueberry pie bars and took them to Dean. He gladly accepted.

After pulling back the plastic wrap and shoving a whole bar in his mouth, he mumbled, “Now we’re definitely even.” He rubbed his hands together to brush the crumbs off and finished his bite. “You had these the whole time and you weren’t going to share?”

“That recipe makes a lot. I figured I’d take half to you last night and the other half to work on Monday, but my co-workers aren’t here helping me put together furniture, so bon appetite.”

He put another in his mouth and nodded in approval. “You can keep the plate this time.” You couldn’t help but tease Dean. He stopped midchew and gave you a jaded glare which you did your best to ignore and instead focused on suppressing your laughter. Dean was still trying to hide his smiles, but you caught a glance anyway.

“It’s not a waste, by the way.”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“You said I was wasting my Saturday by helping you out. But I don’t mind.” He briefly looked up at you but continued before could say anything else. “Help me move these.”

After carrying all the pieces into the bedroom and putting them together, Dean helped you lift your mattress onto the frame, and you threw yourself onto the bed.

“So. Much. Better.” You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose before giving a comfortable sigh. You knew your back would appreciate the little bit of give that the frame allowed. Dean was leaning against the door and you caught his eyes as you sat up. He quickly looked away when you noticed him staring.

“I saw two other boxes out there. Do they need to be put together too?” Dean almost seemed excited to dig into the next project.

“Yes, but if you have somewhere you need to be, I think I can handle it.”

Dean checked his watch. “It’d give me a good excuse to not go to Jo’s party tonight.”

“Jo, that’s Bobby and Ellen’s daughter, right?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, parties aren’t really my scene.”

“I’m with you on that one.” You were quite the introvert yourself and could relate to the feeling of social dread. “Well, if you’re sure, then be my guest.”

You followed Dean into the living room, and he dragged the bigger of the two boxes over and began to pull out the contents. A growl from your stomach and a glance at the clock told you that it was dinner time.

“Are you hungry?”

Dean shrugged. “A little.”

You opened your cabinets and fridge as if there would be more food than there was earlier. “I’m low on supplies, but I’ve got stuff for turkey sandwiches. Is that okay?”

“Sounds great.”

You threw together two sandwiches and Dean already had half the table put together by the time you were done. You handed his plate to him and sat down on the floor against the wall next to the fireplace. Dean shook the wood dust from his pants and joined you.

“So, accounting, huh? Was that always the dream job?” All of Dean’s questions were posed as if he was only making nonchalant small talk, but the way he intently listened told you that he actually cared about your answers.

“No, but it pays the bills, and I don’t mind numbers. I don’t always love it, but I really like the people I work with here.” Dean was still working on a mouthful of food and you figured it was your turn to ask the questions. “Did you always want to be a lumberjack?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not a lumberjack!”

“That’s debatable. Sarah said you work at the sawmill, I’ve only ever seen you wear plaid, and apparently you’re the wood whisperer.” You motioned to the almost completed table.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t go prancing around the woods with an axe on my shoulder.”

“Whatever you say.” You figured if he wanted to share more details with you, he would.

“I don’t just work at the sawmill, I run it.”

“How is it being the head-honcho?” Although you did a lot of paperwork for you job, you didn’t envy the workload of a CEO.

“Awful.” His answer was blunt and straightforward. “My dad pulled me into the family business a few years ago and I took over when he got sick.”

“I heard about that. How is he doing now?”

“He’s good. I think he and my mom are hoping to move back soon.”

“What would you be doing if you weren’t working at the sawmill?”

Dean was a little caught off guard by your question. “Why does it matter?”

“Because you can’t go through life hating most of it. That’s just going to make you miserable.” You were speaking from experience.

Dean’s eyes examined yours as if he was trying to find an ulterior motive behind your questions. “I worked as a mechanic for a long time and loved it. I always thought I’d take over for Bobby when he retired down at the shop.”

“Maybe when your dad gets back you can switch over?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean’s hesitancy to open up when his dad was brought up told you to drop the subject.

After you both were finished eating, he stood and offered a hand to help you up. “Let’s get this thing finished so you don’t have to keep eating on the floor.”

You spent the rest of the evening handing Dean the hardware he asked for and listening to oldies. Maybe he wasn’t the most talkative guy in the world, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence that fell between you two. It was actually nice to be in the company of someone who wasn’t going to push for every detail of your life story.

After breaking down the empty carboard boxes that were the remnants of a long afternoon’s work, Dean pulled on his coat.

“Thank you for all your help today. The place is finally starting to come together.” Although you were still without a couch, your home started to look more livable.

“Don’t mention it. So, I’ll see you Monday morning then?” He asked before he reached for the door handle.

You nodded with a smile and handed him the plate of blueberry bars. He excitedly took it from you and gave a soft smile.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Dean.”

Monday morning slowly crept up after a Sunday spent mostly in bed. It had snowed most of the day and night so you bundled up as much as you could. A peek out the window showed that your small driveway had been plowed again. You put a reminder in your phone to get a thank you gift for the plow driver who was a guardian angel in disguise. Dean pulled up just a few seconds later and you hurried out to his truck.

“Mornin’.” He greeted.

“Hey yourself.” You buckled your seatbelt and extended your hands towards the vent like you had done the last time Dean gave you a ride. His truck was much newer than yours and the heater worked like a charm.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” He asked as he backed out onto the road.

“Expense reports. They’re as thrilling as they sound. And also, I’m covering the front desk solo. Sarah texted and said she woke up with a fever, so she’s taking a sick day.”

“I’ll have to ask Sam how she’s doing.” A few minutes passed as you slowly made your way down the slick road. “So, listen, it’s supposed to snow all day. I’ll come and grab you after work and take you down to Bobby’s place.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. It’s like a ten-minute walk.”

“It’s a good excuse to make sure I don’t get pulled into some long boring meeting at the end of the day.”

“Well then in that case you’re welcome.” You gave a cheeky grin which was returned.

Thankfully, the ride to work was short. Driving in the snow gave you serious anxiety so the sight of City Hall was a welcomed one.

“What time should I come pick you up?”

“I’m off at four, but I can stay later if you can’t get out that early.”

“Four is great. One of the perks of being the boss is that I can make my own hours.”

Ellen waved to you as she walked in, so you quickly said goodbye to Dean and joined her. Dean waited to make sure you got inside okay before taking off.

“Did Dean give you a ride today?” Ellen looked at you skeptically.

“Yeah, my truck is still in the shop, so he volunteered to drop me off on his way to work.”

“Hmm. That’s weird.” She took her hat off and shook the snow from it. “It’s been years since I’ve seen Dean socializing with anyone that’s not in his little circle.”

“Honestly, I think he just pities me because I’m new and clueless when it comes to snow.” Shrugging your coat off, you set it on the back of your chair and placed your bag underneath your desk.

“I never thought I’d see him speak to another girl after what Cassie did to him.” Ellen shook her head and raised her eyebrows.

“Cassie?” This was the first you’d heard of her.

“Yeah, she broke his heart pretty bad a few years back.”

Garth appeared from around the corner and called Ellen back to his office. You knew that Dean had a rough few years but hadn’t heard many details aside from his dad getting cancer, which was a hard enough situation on its own. While you wanted to know more, you didn’t want to dig for info where it was none of your business. If Dean wanted to tell you about Cassie, he would do it on his own time and you would just have to respect that.

Dean arrived at the sawmill and made his way to his office on the upper level of the plant. Not ten minutes after he began his day’s work, Sam entered and sat down in one of the chairs across from Dean’s desk.

“Where were you Saturday night? I thought you said you were going to Jo’s party.”

Dean shrugged. “I got busy and didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Busy with what? I’m sure there’s not that much to do up that mountain of yours.”

“Just busy.”

Sam was used to his brother’s antics at this point and knew it was futile to push for details.

“How’s Sarah doing?” Dean asked, hoping to delay the morning managers meeting as long as possible.

“She’s alright. Woke up with a fever, so she’s just going to sleep it off.” A lightbulb went off for Sam and he frowned. “Wait, how did you know that Sarah’s sick?”

“Crap…” Dean thought to himself. He knew he was busted. “I don’t know. I just heard it through the grapevine.”

“I didn’t tell anyone about her and I’m pretty sure the only people she told were the people at work…” Sam thought long and hard for a few seconds until he realized what must have happened. “Y/N?”

Sam had always been too smart for his own good and Dean had always hated it. “I gave her a ride to work while Bobby has her truck. That’s all.”

“Is that what you were busy with on Saturday too?”

Dean sent messages to Benny and Cas, instructing them to quickly come up to his office to start the morning meeting and hopefully get Sam off his back.

Sam took Dean’s silence as a yes. “What did you guys do all night then?”

“We had a pillow fight and painted each other’s nails.”

Sam had a special bitch-face reserved for Dean and was throwing it his way now.

“We put together furniture and ate sandwiches on the floor. There, now you know. Happy?”

Cas and Benny walked in together.

“Hey fellas, what’s the news?” Benny greeted.

Dean knew from Sam’s devious grin that the end of this conversation was nowhere in sight. “Dean wasn’t at Jo’s party because he was with the new girl in town.”

Cas quickly turned his head and looked at Dean as if he had lobsters crawling out his ears. “This Dean? Our Dean?”

Sam nodded and Benny laughed as he took a seat. “I heard she’s real pretty! It’s about time you find a good one. Nice job, brother.”

Dean groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “Listen, I helped her out with one thing. I barely know her, so cut the crap or I will fire all of you asses.”

Cas, Benny and Sam all exchanged mischievous looks but dropped the subject to avoid Dean’s angry side coming out for the rest of the day.

The day was slow for you, but it gave you plenty of time to finish verifying payroll hours for everyone. Sarah’s energetic personality was definitely being missed as you began to feel drowsy around two thirty. The bell to the front door dinged so you stood to find Sheriff Mills and her son.

“Mom, you promised that you wouldn’t have to work today.” The little boy moaned.

“I’m sorry, honey. The Mayor just has to meet with me for a few minutes and then I promise I’m all yours, okay?”

“Hey guys! Can I help with anything?” You greeted.

“Y/N, hey. How are you settling in?” Jody gave a warm smile and did her best to ignore her son who was tugging at her sleeve.

“I’m finally getting everything set up, so I’d say pretty well. Who’s this handsome fella with you?”

The little boy blushed a little as you leaned on the counter and smiled down at him.

“This is my son, Owen. It’s technically my day off, but do I ever really get a day off as a Sheriff?”

Owen continued to pull at Jody’s sleeve and beg to leave.

“Hey Owen, do you happen to like hot chocolate?” You had always been good with kids and figured you try to help Jody out while she met with Garth. You were pretty much done with your work for the day anyway.

Owen nodded shyly. “Well, I don’t want to brag, but I make a mean breakroom hot chocolate. You want to help me make some while your mom meets with the Mayor? If that’s okay with her, that is.”

Owen looked to his mom for approval and she nodded. He ran behind the front desk and Jody mouthed a silent, “Thank you,” to which you smiled and led Owen back to the breakroom.

After making two steaming cups of hot chocolate, you took pushed together two empty desks and taught Owen how to play paper football. After showing him how to fold the paper and a few practice rounds, you began to keep track of points. The winner would take home a medal that you made from paperclips and an eraser.

Time flew by and before you knew it, over an hour had passed. You heard someone come in the door and looked over to see Dean. He had arrived a few minutes early and decided to wait for you inside rather than in the cold car.

“Am I crashing the party?” Dean leaned on the front desk.

“Dean!” Owen side-stepped the desk and ran to wrap his arms around Dean’s waist.

“You’re just in time for the final round of paper football. You in?” You held up the small piece of folded paper with a playful grin.

“Step aside, let the master show you how it’s done.” Dean ripped off his coat and set it on your desk. “What do I get when I win?”

You held up the eraser necklace and Owen excitedly added that he helped make it.

You and Owen were neck in neck in the first round, but you scuffed your last shot on purpose and made a big stink about it. Dean ruffled Owen’s hair as he knelt down at the end of the desk and lined up his shot perfectly. Owen held his own but missed his last shot and Dean knew that he could win if he made the next one. He set his paper up perfectly and you couldn’t help but giggle at the exaggerated sigh of concentration that he let out. Dean’s eyeline moved from the game quickly up to you as he gave a quick wink and under-shot his chance on purpose, giving the win to Owen if he made his next shot, which he did.

Jody paused before entering the room and watched from just out of sight as Owen jumped up and down in triumph. Ellen joined and leaned on the wall, watching as you helped Owen up onto the desk and presented him with the make-shift medal that you had thrown together. Dean put Owen on his shoulders and did a victory lap around the desks while squeals of delight filled the air.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Dean Winchester acting like he’s been properly socialized?” Jody tilted her head to look at Ellen who was smiling knowingly.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this. Ever since a little bird flew into town, he’s seems to be a little less crotchety.”

Jody and Ellen watched the smile that you and Dean shared once he put Owen down.

“Mom!” Owen ran over and proudly showed off his medal.

“That’s great, hon!” Jody looked up as you and Dean approached. “You guys are lifesavers; I really owe you one.”

“We had fun, huh?” You nudged Owen with your arm causing him to blush and avert his eyes. You smirked and turned to Dean. “I’ll go grab my stuff and then we can head out.”

Dean knelt down and held his hand out for a high-five. “Good game, kid. That’s well-deserved.” He pointed at the eraser hanging around Owen’s neck.

“I like Y/N. She’s fun… and pretty.” Owen whispered to Dean. Jody instructed her son to grab his coat and said goodbye to everyone.

Dean was leaning against your desk when you came out from the back.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” You smiled in response.

Once you were in Dean’s truck, you asked, “how do you know Owen so well?”

“When my parents moved away, Jody kind of took me and Sam under her wing and made sure we were taken care of. We were over at her house for dinner a fair amount, so Owen and I are pretty good buddies.”

“Jody seems sweet. I like her.”

“She’s one of the good ones. A lot of people here are. Ellen has always been a surrogate mom to me as well. My dad and I don’t always get along, so Bobby and Ellen kind of adopted me when I was pretty young.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Don’t be. We all have our issues.”

Dean pulled up outside Bobby’s shop just a few short minutes later. “I’ll come in with you and make sure everything’s working okay. I gotta talk to Bobby anyway.”

You and Dean rushed inside out of the cold and Jo looked up from the front desk. “Hey Dean!”

“Hey, Jo. Your dad around?”

“He’s on the phone but should be done soon.” She turned her gaze to you. “You must be the new girl.”

“Yeah, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you.” You offered a smile to Jo, which was not returned.

“We’re just here for her truck. You got the keys?” Dean picked up on Jo’s attitude and tried to hurry the conversation along.

She shuffled through the box of keys that was on the desk and pulled one out, reading the tag to make sure it was the right one before tossing it to you. You caught it easily and thanked her.

“What do I owe you?”

“We’ll send you the bill.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I’ll just head out then.” You turned to Dean. “See you around. Thanks again for the ride.”

Dean nodded with a shy smile and watched as you got in your truck and left. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him was hoping that the truck wouldn’t start up, so you’d have to ride back with him, but he knew Bobby was too good of a mechanic for that. The rumble of your engine starting up signaled your official exit and Dean hastily made his way back to Bobby’s office to avoid Jo’s impending interrogation on why he had ditched out on her party.

You had gotten to work a little early the next day and were at your desk when Sarah came in.

“Hey, how you feeling?” You had texted her the night before to see if she needed anything, but she said Sam was doing a great job at playing nurse.

“Much better. I think it was just one of those twenty-four-hour bugs. How was yesterday?”

“Slow and quiet. It was weird without you here. Jody brought Owen in and we had a paper football tournament, which was pretty fun though.”

“I’m sorry I missed out!”

Ellen walked out from her office and sat at an empty desk next to you and Sarah. “Are you still good for Thursday, Y/N?”

“You bet!”

“What’s Thursday?” Sarah wondered.

“Ellen, Garth and I are heading to Baker for a convention on the new tax regulations for this year. We’ll head down Thursday morning and come back up on Saturday night.”

Sarah’s face dropped. “No, not this weekend! Saturday is Dean’s birthday and we’re throwing him a surprise party down at The Salty Hunter. I was going to invite you both today!”

“Oh, shoot…” You felt bad that you’d miss Dean’s birthday when he’d been so helpful to you lately.

“Well, maybe we can try to be back for the party?” Ellen suggested. “We’ll head out as soon as we can.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Sarah pointed a finger at you both.

“What’s The Salty Hunter?” You wondered.

“That’s the bar on main street. Rufus, who owns it, used to be a hunter so he named it after himself. He’s a character but a good guy.” Ellen explained.

That night after work you went grocery shopping and then headed home to make some dinner and watch something stupid to unwind before bed. You changed into pajamas and a t-shirt and settled down at your new table. Before you could take a bite of your pasta, someone knocked on your door. You peeked through the curtains to see who it was and saw Dean standing outside, shaking his leg to try and stay warm.

You unlocked the door and the wind helped it open. “Get in here, it’s freezing!” You ordered and Dean gladly complied.

“How’s the truck working?” He rubbed his hands together to thaw his fingers.

“Like a charm. Bobby really knows his stuff.” You grabbed the blanket that was slung over the back of a chair and wrapped it around yourself as you sat and offered Dean the other chair at the table.

“So, uh,” he traced the woodgrain pattern on the floor with his eyes as if he was afraid to look at you, “I don’t know if you have any plans on Saturday, but some friends and I are getting together down at the bar if you want to get to know a few more people. It’s nothing big.”

“This little gathering wouldn’t happen to be for your birthday, would it?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. “Sarah told me about it today.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s not really a party or anything. I just thought it would be good for you to get out of this tiny cabin. I’m not even supposed to know about it, but Sam told me.”

You were surprised that Dean went out of his way to invite you, and the gesture made you feel even worse that you might not be there.

“I’m going to try my absolute hardest to be there. Ellen, Garth and I are actually going to be at a tax thing from Thursday until Saturday but we’re making it our goal to be back in time.”

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal, so don’t stress about it.”

“Birthdays are a big deal, so don’t play it off all casual. Plus, I already have the perfect present picked out for you, so it would be a shame if you didn’t get it.”

An inquisitive look lit up Dean’s emerald eyes. “The perfect present, huh? You sure you know me that well?”

“I am one hundred percent sure it will be the best present you’ve ever gotten from me.” Considering that you’d never given him a present before, you weren’t wrong.

Dean pushed his jaw slightly to one side and pressed his tongue to his canine while fighting a grin. “You’re funny, you know that?”

You scrunched you nose and stood from your chair. “Have you eaten? I’ve got extra.” Before he answered, you were already dishing him up a plate of spaghetti.

“No, I just got off work. Late day at the office.” He dug right into his food when you set it down on the table. “Are you planning on getting a couch or something?” He looked out into the barren room.

“No, I think I like empty, minimalistic look. It’s very modern.”

At this point, Dean had a pretty firm grasp on your dry sense of humor and just shook his head. He scarfed down his food and went back for a second plate while you cleaned up the kitchen a bit. He washed his own plate when he was done and placed it in the drying rack.

“Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your night. I would have just texted you to invite you, but I don’t have your number.”

You held out your hand and Dean reached into his pocket and gave you his phone. It was an old, sturdy Nokia flip phone and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Look at this dinosaur. I haven’t seen one of these since… I don’t know, middle school?”

“It’s not that old.” Dean tried to defend himself. “I tried the fancy smart phones, but I hated them. Who needs a phone for more than just calling and texting?”

You flipped it open dramatically and saved your number before handing it back to him right as it began to ring. “It’s Sam, I should probably get this. Thanks again for dinner. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t. I always make way too much pasta anyway.”

Dean gave a grateful smile and a small wave as he answered the phone and left.

Chapter 3

[fiveisnumber1]

I love the idea of the Hidden Seven throwing a party at the mansion instead of taking Five along for his first college party. I think it would be very considerate of them since he probably would not like so much social interaction at once so the familiar environment and the fact he can kick everyone out the minute he's uncomfortable would give him some semblance of control over the situation. I'm imagining the Hidden Seven in a huddle, maybe while Reader and Five are on a date, and deciding this among themselves cuz they care about him and they've been to High School parties but college parties are on another level and Five has never been to ANY party. He's part of their little group now too so they take care of him in the little ways.

Additionally, as part of the "how to summon the H7", Five discovers eventually that it's not just memes that grab their attention but if he dares say anything slightly self-loathing about himself or says he's hungry/refers to his past trauma of any type, he can summon them as fast as if they have his power too, Usually along with a Hargreeve, notably Allison and Vanya as well. (there's a tumblr chat post used for fandom characters for this exact scenario or I'd type it out but I just can't remember it exactly rn D:)

Also would Five participate on the Hidden Seven's missions as well when not trapped by Big Bad Evil Guys? I can see him mostly taking a backseat with the fighting, acting as a distraction more than anything else but definitely getting used to the H7s antics and participating in these menial conversations unless he's in an agitated mood in which case he takes a more hands on approach as well.

Five (flashing in front of a robber so he doesn't realize Dean is about to shoot him in the back): Can we PLEASE go get a decent cup of coffee after this. I've been in class since 8 AM and now this?

Addison: Do you ever stop thinking about coffee? Sonata and I brought you some on our way to class! We thought it would tide you over til 3 at least!

Reader (melting someone's brains): He spilled half when someone bumped into his desk. I had to keep him from committing murder. Our Physics professor was not amused.

*Five kills someone in his peripheral with nothing but a paper weight*

Lucas (throws a guy against a wall): Ohh so that's why he's so murdery today... Normally he just distracts people for us.

Bren (using his whips to hold someone in place): Is that also why you asked to borrow my extra shirt?

Everyone looks and Five is indeed wearing one of Bren's usual shirts.

Kenny (punching the guy being held in place) : Hey! I offered too!

Bren: Yeah but none of us would be caught dead in your clothes after you bought your neon atrocity.

Kenny (gasps): You take that back! My jacket is the height of fashion!

Five (doing his stapler trick): Cool stapler, my guy. *kills him* Anyway can we get back to the point. COFFEE! I can't take Professor Snotty's class without it or I won't need paradox psychosis to feel homicidal rage... (flashes to reader's side) Hey, mon amour, need some assist? *holds guy in place so reader can do her thing*

Viktoria (pauses bad viola playing to say over the sound system): You call a Professor as Snotty?

Reader (taking her time with the destruction of the bad guy): His names Snitty so it's not any better. The entire phys-chem departments calls him that.

Kenny: I would like to meet this professor Snotty.

Reader and Five pause and consider it... The bad guy tries to sneak away.

Dean: Anyway so... Coffee after this? I have like 2 hours before my next class (impales sneaking away bad guy with an arrow) and I really don't wanna do my homework.

Kenny: Ooh! I want a unicorn milkshake!

Lucas (roughing up a bad guy): That sweetened monstrosity? Really?

Bren (slashing a guy): I am NOT babysitting Necrotic if he gets a unicorn milkshake. He's all yours.

Meanwhile, the bad guys are all dead and the H8 then go and get their well earned smoothies, milkshakes and coffees.

(Sorry for the long message, I almost sent three asks with all three topics separately but then combined them into one for ease after I caught up on the discussion this morning xD do you think it's all accurate to your vision?)

Oh yeah, they definitely take his lack of party experience into consideration. Giving him as much control as possible will make it such a better time for him. I think when the party actually occurs at first Five is a little hesitant just because it’s a lot of people he’s never met and it’s a new experience but which a couple of shots that Kenny definitely offered him he starts to loosen up and enjoy himself more. He would absolutely be by the readers side the whole time tipsily telling her about all the stuff he admires about her and pulling her on to the dance floor with him the more comfortable he gets. He would be having a hell of a time and would totally tell his siblings to leave if they showed up early.

Because of how much they care for Five if he ever said something negative about himself you would hear a chorus of “Nooooooo!” coming from across the house as all the rest of them ran from different directions to get to him. They’d immediately go into helping mode because even though they themselves would say similar things because they’re Gen Z so of course they wouldn’t want their friend to feel upset.

And yes, Five would definitely join them to fight criminals because it’s a very casual bonding activity for all of them. They just get notifications about stuff that is going down and they will all collectively drop what they’re doing and go there because it’s probably better than whatever they were doing before. And to the bad guys it is so infuriating that not only that they’re being beat by such young people but that they won’t even focus on the fight. They’re just that good together. Also:

Five: (spatial jumping around aggressively taking out people)

Kenny: (knocking someone out) Jeez he’s aggressive today. What happened?

Reader: (Throwing knives at some guys) Oh our physics professor was just well snotty today, as always.

Five: (snapping a criminal’s neck) JUST SNOTTY? HE WAS A FULL ON ASSHOLE. HE SAID SHE WAS WRONG WHEN SHE HAD THE RIGHT ANSWER AND WHEN I SAID THE ANSWER HE SAID I WAS RIGHT.

Viktoria: (making some criminals ears bleed) Oh god...is your professor still alive?

Reader: Yes

Five: UNFORTUNATELY. SOMEONE DECIDED TO STOP ME FROM PUTTING HIM IN HIS PLACE

Dean: (releasing an arrow into a guy) Five you would’ve put him in the grave.

Five: It’s where he belongs

Addison: (kicking a gun out of a criminal’s hand and across the room) Ringmaster, what did you do to stop him?

Reader: (disintegrating someone’s stomach) I had to use my powers to make him so dense he couldn’t jump. Believe me it took a lot to stop him.

Bren: (catching someone running away with his whip) Damn that’s crazy.

Lucas: (tossing a guy down a staircase) If it makes you feel better Five I would’ve done the same thing for Spotlight.