#but recently I’ve really been leaning into it like I ordered a red wallet and a red bag AND red sunnies

[hella1975]

genuinely the moment you find an aesthetic you love and start owning it life gets better

[rxqueenotd]

The Girl Next Door (Sneak Peek)

Jeryd Mencken x original female character

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a while now and only recently got brave enough to post it after a slew of horny anons came along and talked me up. Once again, I am not proud to be writing about this man, but here we are. I have this really terrible habit of writing backwards and out of order, and I thought this would be a good little snippet to post and test the waters with. For reference, this fic takes place around 2010ish, which would make Mencken around 40, with OFC being around 22. I’m a sucker for the girl next door trope and couldn’t resist!

Warnings: drug use, age gap (that’s it… for now)

Of all the things that had changed in the time I had been away, the old wooden dock stayed the same, in its rightful place, bobbing directly in between the divide of property lines. I had imagined that when Ms. McGoven died, her children quickly went through her things. Auctioning off what they deemed unsuitable to their tastes, while quickly listing the house for sale. They seemed to be a covetous lot, so it came as a huge surprise to me when my mother informed me that the dock stayed in possession of my family and the new neighbors, The Menckens.

I had spent most of the day sprawled out on the dock, idling between sunbathing and getting lost amongst the tattered pages of an old novel. The sound of the waves lapping against the inlet across the way lulled me into a state of contentedness, so much so that I had failed to notice the bright sky change and shift above me, its cotton candy tone now reflecting against the shifting waves set out before me as the sun began its descent.

I was awestruck by the simplicity of the beauty around me. Flipping a tattered corner on the page, I snapped the book shut and deposited it down into my bag. I absentmindedly dug out my wallet, sliding my pointer finger along the ridges of the change section until I found the joint and lighter at the bottom of the compartment. I lit it up happily, lying flat down on my back for the optimal view of the ever changing sky. A few moments passed before I heard someone speak from the bank behind me.

“Are you smoking pot on my dock?”

I sat up in an instant, my cheeks flushing red as I thought of every possible lie I could float to him in an effort to get out of this.

“No,” I lied. A plume of smoke billowed from my mouth, effectively betraying me.

When I turned around, he didn’t look angry. He appeared amused. His hands were tucked in the pocket of his slacks as his simple white tee held snugly to his middle as the wind blew in our direction.

I bobbed along with the dock as he stepped down from the bank to stand beside where I was sitting. He looked down at me with a smirk.

“I think you are.” He crouched down beside me and plucked the joint from my fingers. When he brought it to his mouth and sharply inhaled, I stared at him with wonder.

“Tastes like pot.” His voice went up a few octaves as he inhaled as deeply as he could. He never took his eyes off me as he exhaled above my head. He observed the joint in his hands, hitting it again as he watched me.

I felt small under his gaze. Like he knew something I didn’t. And with the newfound intensity now occupying the space around us, I needed to move, to cut the tension I felt was due to my increasing paranoia. I surely hadn’t been this worked up a few days ago when I served him at The Marina. When he slid a twenty in my hand and asked for my name, ensuring he would be back to sit in my section again.

He watched me carefully as I leaned forward onto my knees, running my hands through the water. When he went to hand the joint back to me, I wiped my hands along the top of my swimsuit, finding myself gobsmacked when the material didn’t soak up the water on my hands the way I had intended for it to.

“I… can’t?” I held up my wet hands and shrugged. He laughed at me.

“Here,” he offered, and I watched as he puffed on the joint again. His free hand tilted my face upward towards his, gently cupping my jaw as he pursed his lips and blew the smoke gently at my mouth. It took me a second to register exactly what was happening and I was quick to settle on my knees in front of him, happily welcoming the smoke into my mouth.

When he did it again, I let my fingers dance across his cheek, making a home directly over his cheekbone as a way to ground myself as the dock moved back and forth with the waves.

The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on me as I opened my eyes to look into his. They were a violent shade of blue, the golden hour appearing to make them almost glow.

“It’s definitely pot.” He confirmed with a toothy grin, stubbing the joint out on the side of the dock. “I’m taking it with me.”

“What?!” I guffawed, mouth open wide at the audacity of this man. “You can’t just rob me like that!”

“I can and I did.” He turned around and began his trek back up the bank to his house.

“I’ll think of it as a housewarming gift.” He turned around and gave me a smirk.

I didn’t argue back, choosing to huff frustratedly instead, lying back down on the dock, thinking of how I could get even with him.

[x-reader-theater]

I wish for you to feel as I do

summary: Spencer Reid has been dating his boyfriend for six years, but what happens when he finds out you’re killing to make him happy?

pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!Reader 

details: Unsub Reader

category: Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

word count: 8488

warnings: Reader as Unsub, rapey reader, controlling and manipulative reader, unhealthy relationship

a/n: This literally starts with smut so be warned. This was suuuuper fun to write! It’s an addition to this very short oneshot with an unsub reader, but I wanted to expand it because I just had so many ideas! @luvofyourlifeliv this is for your 500 follow contest so I hope you like it! As always, this is edited by @mystic-writes and I will upload it to Ao3 :) Enjoy! 

Moodboard by Me

You kiss Spencer, leaning over him, over his book, pushing it down. You smirk into the kiss, but Spencer turns away from you. 

"Hey! Hey!" he exclaims, trying to push you away, but you take the book from his hands and drop it onto the floor, before latching your lips to his neck. "I have work to do!"

"You read… 20,000 words a minute…" you say between kisses. "You can… read it… later…" 

Spencer moans into your mouth, and reaches his hands up, placing them on your cheeks and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. You bracket his legs with yours, and he gasps as you rub up against his growing erection. You reach down and take his half hard cock from his pants, stroking it until it becomes fully hard. 

When Spencer goes to do the same for you, he stops. Because you're not hard at all. 

You push off him and clear your throat, tucking yourself back into your pants and zipping them up. 

"[Y/N], it's okay!" Spencer exclaims, but you ignore him, and the hand he puts on your shoulder. "It's totally normal!" 

"It's not though!" you exclaim, turning to face Spencer and shrugging his hand off your arm. "We've been together for six years and I've never once had trouble… getting it up." 

You huff and stand up, walking to grab your keys and your wallet, shoving them into your pockets as Spencer says from the couch, "The Cleveland Clinic estimates that it’s normal to have trouble getting or keeping an erection for up to 20 percent of sexual encounters. Having trouble getting an erection more than 50 percent of the time can indicate a medical issue." You stop and look at him, and he stands up, walking over to you, taking your hand, and kissing the knuckles. "It's too early to know if anything really is wrong. Just… take a breath."

You nod and take a deep breath in, kissing his own knuckles back, before saying, "Okay. I just… I need a drink." Spencer nods and you pull away. "I'll probably be back after midnight, so just go to sleep without me." 

Spencer nods again and you exit your shared apartment. 

You don't really know where you're going, your feet are just taking you somewhere. You walk past a bus station and nearly knock into a young blonde woman. You just stumble out of the way of her. 

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she exclaims, but you smile and shake your head. 

"It was my fault," you say, putting your hands up. She smiles at you. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She smiles and nods, and you stick your hand out, saying, "I'm [Y/N]. What's your name?" 

"Haley," she says with a smile, gripping your hand and shaking it. 

You smile at her. "You should be careful, Haley. A pretty woman, all alone. You could get hurt," you say, and she frowns. 

"That sounds like something my husband would say…" she trails off, but you're already walking away from her, a spring in your step as you walk into the first open bar you come across. 

It's dingy and musty, but it'll do the trick of getting you drunk enough to forget everything that happened with Spencer tonight. 

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," someone says next to you, and you turn and see a thin, pale man with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes. 

You gasp slightly at how much he looks like Spencer. "No, no I just kinda found my way here. I don't even know where I am," you admit as the bartender comes over. You order a beer and the Bartender nods and walks off.

"I come here a lot. It's my local, really," the man says and you nod, grabbing your freshly poured beer, and taking a long gulp, draining half of it before putting it down. "Maybe I could… show you why I like it so much?"

The man trails a finger along the lapel of your shirt, and you look over at him, eyebrows raised. You take out your wallet and pay for the beer, before being led out a back door, into an even dirtier alley. 

You could never hurt Spencer. You love him. You've loved him for years, and while you have no plans on getting married any time soon, you could see yourself being with him for the rest of your life. But, old habits are hard to break. 

The man pushes you into the brick wall and starts kissing you, but before anything can happen, you take out your knife from your pocket, flick it open, and stab it into the man currently trying to tongue fuck you. He gasps and steps back, and you stab him again, and again, and again, until you're sure he's dead. You step back, panting, your knife clenched in your hand, and you grin, flicking the knife closed and stuffing it back into your pants. You're very thankful, in that moment, that you're wearing all black. 

It is also at this point that it starts to rain. 

You grin as you walk away from the unknown man, and when you look down, you see there's a tent in your pants, and you start playing with it, moaning as you think of the body back there, of Spencer, your perfect little Spencer just waiting at home for you. 

You eventually find your way back to your apartment and step inside, taking off your soaked clothing and throwing it in a nearby hamper. You see your right thigh, where your knife was, and your chest, are stained slightly red. You take your wallet and phone out of your pockets and go into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Once you have the red scrubbed away, you dry off but don't put anything on. 

You're still fully hard, the images of the body and Spencer filling your head as you showered, and you stroked yourself languidly. 

When you get into bed, you smile at Spencer sleeping soundly, and you press yourself to his back, slotting your cock in between his ass cheeks, that are covered by TARDIS pajamas that you gave him for his twenty-eighth birthday. He moans and pushes back into you, not even fully awake yet, and you kiss the back of his neck, moving to his shoulder, where you suck a hickey into. 

Spencer moves his hands to your head as you buck up into his ass, and you know he's awake. He turns around in your hold and kisses you as you run your fingers through his long, wavy brown hair. You remember the way the man's brown hair looked splayed out on the stone floor of the alleyway, and you almost cum right there, groaning loudly into Spencer's open mouth. 

"What- what happened?" Spencer asks, reaching his hand down and grabbing your throbbing erection. You grunt and buck up into his hand, your hips moving of their own accord. 

You kiss him and say, "Just… needed to clear my head. Fuck, Spencer you're so hot." 

Spencer moans and grabs his own erection, slotting the two of yours together, and he pumps both of them in his fist. You kiss him, swallowing every grunt and moan that he makes, as well as his scream when he cums. You cum only seconds after him, but you're still hard in his grip. 

"I am going to fuck you all night, Spencer Reid." 

He only moans at that. 

–

"Hey, hey! Pretty Boy! Have a late night?" Morgan asks as he walks into the small office kitchen for the BAU. Spencer looks up at him, frowning as he adds more sugar to his coffee. 

"Yeah," Spencer says, his cheeks turning slightly pink, but he doesn't say anything more. 

"Let me guess, Star Trek marathon?" Morgan asks with a laugh and Spencer ducks his head as he goes even more red, remembering exactly what you marathoned with him last night. 

"Uh, ahem, something like that," Spencer says, clearing his throat, before stirring his sugary coffee and going back to his desk. 

"Hey- wait a minute!" Morgan exclaims, and Spencer tenses, getting ready for his friend's grilling, when JJ interrupts. 

"Hey! We have a case up in Syracuse. Hotch wants everyone in the Round Table Room in five," she says and Spencer lets out a breath of relief as he gets up and walks into said room, leaving a very confused Morgan behind. 

–

You groan as you get home, shedding your bloody, black clothes, and you smirk at your erection. You've had no problem getting it up for Spencer the last few months, just thinking about the man you killed making you hard on the spot. Recently though, it hasn't been enough. You found yourself having to imagine Spencer dead and that just won't do. You would never hurt the love of your life. Ever. 

You walk into the master bathroom and slip into the already-on shower, wrapping your arms around your lover, pressing your erection against his hole. 

"You're back," you say, rubbing yourself against him. 

Spencer hums and leans his head back onto your shoulder. "We just got in. I wanted to take a shower and see my amazing boyfriend," he says and you kiss him, on his neck, his shoulder, and all down his arm. You kiss his palm and the pads of each of his fingers. "Everyone else wanted to go out for drinks, but I told them I had to get home. I wanted to see you."

You moan into his skin as you suck on his shoulder, biting slightly. Spencer gasps and jumps and you lick over the wound, kissing it. You didn't break the skin, just bit gently. You would never hurt your baby. 

You pull back, looking at Spencer's back, the back of his head, his lithe body, his pert ass, and you think of the man you killed tonight. He also had brown hair and pale skin, but that's about where the similarities ended. He was shorter than Spencer, his hair shorter as well and less curly, but when you plunged your knife into his back, and felt his sides tighten, it felt like Spencer when he came. 

Your cock jumps against your boyfriend's ass, and you take the lube you have in your shower, sticking your fingers into his tight hole, pushing them in and scissoring him open. He pushes back onto your fingers and you hook them. He jumps and you have to hold his hip with your free hand so he doesn't slip and fall in the shower. 

You slick up your own cock and slam it in, causing Spencer to cry out in ecstasy as you pull out almost all the way, and slam back into him over and over. Spencer braces his arms on the shower wall, and the feeling of water cascading down your chest just makes it all even hotter. You think back to the first man you killed, how it rained right after you killed him, and how it's almost like it's raining now. Cleaning away your sins. Making you the perfect man for Spencer once again. 

You cum at that thought, shooting your load into Spencer's ass, who comes only seconds after, not having touched his cock once.

You pull out of him and turn him around, kissing him, and he's practically melting into you. 

"I love you," you say and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

"I love you too," he says back. 

–

"Another long night?" Morgan asks, and Spencer frowns. He already got his coffee and Morgan didn't even see him make it this time. 

"What are you talking about?" Spencer asks, and Morgan points to Spencer's neck. He takes out the small, two inch mirror from his top desk drawer and almost drops it when he sees the large, purple and black bruise on his neck. You told him to forego the tie, and to leave his shirt unbuttoned since it was going to be another hot summer day today, but now he knows why you really did it. 

Spencer yelps and slaps a hand over the bruise, turning a deep shade of red as Morgan cackles. 

He comes home that night and you laugh at Morgan's reaction, before soothing Spencer, kissing his temple and telling him that you just want people to know you're his. He blushes, admitting that he'd like that too, and you ask to mark him again, this time right underneath his jaw. 

Spencer doesn't hesitate when he says yes. 

"Woah, Pretty Boy. You okay?" Morgan asks the next morning when Spencer walks in. "Did you get mugged or something?" 

Spencer frowns and touches the dark purple mark under his chin. "What? No." 

"Did your girl do this to you? Because I swear to God if she hurts you…" Morgan says and Spencer's eyes go wide. 

"No! No one hit me. My boyfriend gave me what I believe is called a 'hickey'," he says. 

Morgan frowns before asking, "Boyfriend?" Spencer nods. "I didn't know you were gay."

"You never asked, and I didn't have a reason to tell you," Spencer says casually, shrugging as he gets some files out and starts working on them. 

"How long have you two been together?" Morgan asks. 

"Today's the 16th so 6 years, 9 months, 3 weeks and 6 days," Spencer says, and Morgan's jaw drops. 

"Six years?!" he exclaims and Spencer nods. "And you haven't told anyone?" 

Spencer shrugs. "We never felt the need." 

Morgan stares at Reid, dumbfounded, the rest of the day. 

–

"Hey, baby?" you call out into the apartment from the entryway. 

"In here!" you hear Spencer call back. 

You walk to the back of the apartment and open the door to Spencer's study. He's sitting at his desk, writing something down on a legal pad, before looking back at a book next to him. You walk over and start kissing the side of his neck, mouthing up and down, and he shivers underneath your touch. 

"I'm going to go out and grab something," you say, kissing right behind his ear, making Spencer moan. "I'll be back tonight. I expect you to be in bed, naked." 

Spencer shivers, and when you come back an hour later, you see he followed your instructions perfectly. 

–

There's no witty remark from Morgan this morning. No quip about having a good time or marathoning or whatever. Just a smirk that makes Spencer beet red. 

Spencer's about to say something when JJ calls out to the team, "We have a case!" 

They all file into the round table room and sit down, getting handed files. JJ stands at the front of the room and the television turns on. 

"Last night, Riley Heartwood was found stabbed to death in downtown DC," JJ says. 

Spencer's breath leaves him. The man looks almost exactly like him. 

"When was he killed?" Morgan asks, not noticing Spencer. 

"It says here around 10pm last night," Rossi interjects. 

Spencer feels his heart stop as he looks over the files. 

Fred Giles, killed three months ago on the 28th, the day you couldn't get hard, and left, is the exact day and time that Giles was murdered. Then there's Terrance Lake, murdered the day you joined him in the shower, cumming at your normal time instead of taking longer than normal like you had been the last few days. And now Riley Heartwood, murdered last night right before you came home from grabbing something at the grocery store, hard and aching, and fucking Spencer until he screamed and forgot his own name for six minutes and twelve seconds. 

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he grabs it, seeing it's a text from you. 

To; Spencie 😘

From; [Y/N] 😍

I can't wait until you get home!

There's a picture attached with you sitting at his desk, shirtless and winking. 

Once is a happening. Twice is a coincidence. Thrice is a pattern. 

Spencer sits up suddenly, standing and grabbing the folder. "I-I have to go. Family Emergency," he mutters before sprinting out of the room. He grabs his messenger bag and makes sure his gun is still on his hip. 

–

You're sitting at home when you hear a gun cocking. 

"Please tell me you didn't kill that man last night?" Spencer asks. 

You sigh and turn around slowly, standing up from your couch. "You don't like it when I lie to you, Spencer." 

You see his hand tighten on the gun, but he doesn't put his finger on the trigger. You take a step forward, but he doesn't move back. 

"You're-you're impotent, aren't you?" Spencer asks. 

You smirk. "I wasn't last night when I was fucking you into the mattress and had you screaming out my name as my hands touched you." 

Spencer gasps, and his grip falters slightly. You dash forward and grab the gun from his grip, before pulling your body against his. You groan as your groin brushes against his, leaning down to nip at the hickey you put on him last night. 

"I-I have to arrest you. Take you in," he says, stuttering and nervous. 

You smirk and kiss him behind his ear, making him moan. "You would never. Besides, you could never catch me before I got to your mom…" 

Spencer freezes, but doesn't say anything. 

You lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, saying, "Please don't hate me." Spencer sucks in a breath as you kiss his cheek again. "I did this for you. I couldn't stop imagining myself hurting you, and I can't do that to you. Ever. I love you, Spencer Reid, and I just wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you."

Spencer nods slowly. "They- they looked like me. The men you killed." 

You nod and turn Spencer around so he's facing you. "I don't want to ever hurt you, Spencer. I love you too much."

"You-you're a psychopath. How- you can't love me!" Spencer exclaims and you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"If I can't, how did I fool you, a seasoned profiler, for six years?" you ask. 

Spencer stops as he thinks about it. If you were faking it, Spencer would have known. He would have seen it. He's seen psychopaths fake love before. Frank comes to mind when he first thinks of it. But, you aren't killing these men for yourself. You're doing it for Spencer. For the man you love. 

And as much as Spencer wants to turn you in, he can't deny the adrenaline that courses through him when he thinks about how all of this is for him. To make him happy. To keep him satisfied. 

Spencer leans up and kisses you, feeling himself get hard against your thigh, and you are equally as hard. You set Spencer's gun down on his desk and wrap your arms around his waist, dipping your hands down to grab at his ass. He gasps and you take that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. 

Just as you're about to push him onto the comfortable sofa that's in the room for you to use when Spencer's working and you want to be near him, Spencer's phone rings. 

Spencer groans and pulls away, taking out his phone and answering it. He puts it on speaker but presses a finger to your lips to quiet you. You kiss his finger, but nod. 

"Reid? Everything okay?" Morgan asks on the other side of the phone. 

Spencer nods. "Yeah. My uh… my boyfriend… fell down the stairs at our apartment!" Spencer exclaims and you nod, silently telling him it was a good cover story. "He sprained his ankle and I had to help him back up the stairs and into bed."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Morgan says and Spencer lets out a silent sigh. You kiss him quietly. "You ran out of there so fast. I'll tell the others you'll be back in tomorrow," he says and Spencer nods. 

"Okay. I gotta go, but I'll see you tomorrow," he says, and he hangs up. He throws his phone onto the sofa and pulls you to him again, kissing you loudly, moaning and gasping at every swipe of your tongue, every tug of his hair. 

"I love you, Spencer Reid," you say. 

"I love you too, [Y/N] [L/N]."

–

"How long?" Spencer asks, tracing what seems like random shapes into your skin, but you know they have meaning to him. 

You shrug. "Ever since I was younger. I would purposefully get into fights with other kids so I could hit them. I never killed any animals, and I was never really a bedwetter. I did like to start fires. My parents would always let me light the candles at dinner," you say. "The first person I ever killed was my babysitter. I was nine and she was seventeen. She kept touching me, kissing me, trying to take my clothes off. I got her onto the third floor balcony and pushed her off. I called my parents crying and told them she fell when I was playing in the yard when I wasn't supposed to."

"Wow," Spencer says, his hands stilling for a moment before continuing. 

"The second person I killed was the first time I killed with a knife. It was my next door neighbor. He would bully me at school, shove me into lockers, take my clothes when I was changing so I'd have to run through the school naked after him to get my clothes back, hit me, things like that. He cornered me in my backyard one day, jumping our shared fence. He was going to kill me. I ran inside and grabbed a knife and when I ran back out, I crashed into him, stabbing him. I cut my side with the blade to make it look like self defense, and told the police he attacked me. I ran inside and got a kitchen knife, and he took it from me. I managed to get it back and he ran at me. I told them it was an accident. It was, but it felt so good, I didn't want to stop," you say. 

"So you didn't," Spencer says, and you shake your head. "But, you haven't killed anyone for over six years. 

You nod. "I met you," you say, running your hands through Spencer's hair and bringing his head up to kiss you. "I found everything I needed. But, those urges came back. And I wanted everything to be perfect for you. I wanted you to have everything you could ever want. And for you, that meant sex. I know how much you like it." Spencer nods and blushes, looking away, but you move his face so he's looking at you again, and you kiss him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. I need it to. And I would never, ever hurt you. But, I kept thinking about it. And it scared me." 

Spencer nods and curls up against you so his head is on your chest. You kiss his hair as he mutters, "I love you."

You smile. "I love you too, baby. Now, let's get some sleep."

–

Spencer wakes with a start, shaking and crying. You feel the bed moving and slowly wake up, only to see Spencer in distress. You sit up as well and hold him to your chest as he cries. 

"What have I done? What will everyone think of me? Why do I want to- I want- why-" 

"Spencer, Spencer," you say, and almost as if he forgot you lived with him, his head snaps to look at you. "Baby, what's going on?"

"I shouldn't like it. I should take you in. I shouldn't want to know what it feels like, but I do. I want to know," he mutters, almost to himself, but he's still looking directly at you. 

"You want to know what it feels like to kill someone?" you ask. Spencer nods. You smile and kiss him. "I can help arrange that." 

Spencer nods. "I know I shouldn't like you… killing people for me, but I can't help it. It makes me happy to know you want me to be happy."

"Oh, baby," you say, holding him even closer to your bare chest. Spencer wraps his arms around you. "I would do anything to make you happy." 

Spencer hums, contentedly. 

–

"Everything okay, Reid?" Hotch asks as the youngest profiler walks into the Round Table Room that morning, his bag still on his hip. 

Spencer smiles and nods. "Everything is fine." 

"Morgan told us you had a family emergency, but wouldn't say anything else," Rossi says and Spencer nods again, throwing a grateful look to Morgan. 

He sighs and takes his messenger bag off, setting it at the ground by his desk before he begins to talk. "My boyfriend fell down the stairs in our apartment yesterday. I had to go home and help him."

JJ just nods and Garcia "Aw’s” as Hotch, Prentiss, and Rossi all narrow their eyes at him. 

"You've never mentioned having a boyfriend," Prentiss says and Spencer sighs. 

"It was my business and neither he nor I wanted to share it. But, we want to now," Spencer says. 

"How long! How long!" Garcia asks, practically bouncing in her seat. 

"Baby girl, they've been together for over six years now," Morgan says. 

Garcia's jaw drops, as does everyone else's in the room. 

"Six years?" JJ asks and Spencer nods. "Why didn't you tell us?" 

Spencer shrugs. "Because we weren't ready. Can we get started on the briefing now?" 

The team nods and JJ turns back to the screen. 

"Spence, we weren't able to get to the briefing yesterday, so we know about as much as you do,"  JJ explains. Spencer nods. 

"I think the unsub might be impotent," Morgan says, looking at the files. "The stabbing could indicate that."

"But, there was no semen found on the body. Usually, men who are impotent get off on the dead body as well as the killing," Spencer explains. A few of his co-workers nod. 

"I want to find out more about where these men were before they were murdered," Hotch says. "Reid and Morgan, go to the bar where Giles was last seen, Rossi and Prentiss, Lake, and JJ and I will go to where Heartwood was last seen. We'll meet back here and discuss what we learned." 

–

Spencer walks into the bar you were in only six months before, where you killed Fred Giles. 

"Hey! What can I get you boys?" the bartender asks from behind the bar. 

Morgan walks over and takes out his badge, saying, "I'm Agent Morgan and this is Doctor Reid. We're here to ask about Fred Giles, the man who was murdered behind your bar six months ago."

The bartender nods and sighs. "Yeah. I knew him. Said he was a regular to all the attractive men who walked in. He never bought anything though," he says. "Always just came in for sex. When I confronted him about it, he said he needed it, that he couldn't live without it, and he was a nice enough guy so I let him. He never deterred people from coming back." 

The bartender shrugs and Spencer steps up, asking, "Did anyone talk to him that night?"

"Uh, yeah. Some bloke. Don't know his name. He's never come back, but we get a lot of that here. Had a beer and they left out the back. Never saw him again."

"Sir, can you describe him for us?" Morgan asks, taking off his sunglasses. 

"No, sorry," the bartender says, picking up some glasses and putting them away underneath the bar. "It was busy and we don't usually have a lot of lights on in here. I know he was handsome. Fred wouldn't've gone with him if he weren't. Sorry, boys." 

Spencer nods and smiles and Morgan walks off, going towards the back door that leads out into the alley. As soon as Spencer steps out of the bar, he can feel himself getting hard. 

Spencer's never gotten hard at the thought of a dead body, except when he first started. He was young and beautiful sitting in the slab in the morgue, naked and displayed for him to assess. He had never seen a body so beautiful, so peaceful, and he had gotten an erection while looking at it. 

Now though, just the thought that you had killed this man to make Spencer feel good has his heart racing and adrenaline coursing through his stomach. He shifts his messenger bag over his groin to hide his growing erection. He flushes and looks down at the ground, trying to will away the thoughts of you murdering someone, and him finding it erotic. 

"Hey," Morgan says, and Spencer looks up at him, eyes wide. "Do you know if Garcia got the footage from the camera here?" Spencer shakes his head and Morgan pulls out his phone, pressing a button before holding it up to his ear. "Hey pretty mama, there's a CCTV camera in the alley behind the bar where Fred Giles was murdered. Can you see if that footage is anywhere?" 

There's a few moments of silence, and Spencer looks around, trying to see if there's anything the CSI missed, but it doesn't look like it. 

"Are you sure? Damn. Okay, thanks mama." Morgan flips the phone shut and sighs. "CCTV's fake, used to deter thieves most likely," he says and Spencer nods. "We should head back." 

–

"Reid. Morgan. Find anything?" Rossi asks as the two step into the bullpen. 

Morgan scoffs. "Nah. Nothing. He's handsome, but we figured that out already. Bartender didn't see anything and the CCTV in the back was fake so we got nothing."

Rossi nods. "Us as well. Maybe we should wait for Hotch. Maybe he found someone."

The rest of the team nods and Spencer takes out his phone, texting you.

To: [Y/N] 😍

From: Spencie 😘

Team hasn't found anything. Keep you updated. 

You message back just as quickly. 

To: Spencie 😘

From: [Y/N] 😍

Okay! I love you. Hurry back home quickly! I want to show you something! 

Spencer grins as he looks at his phone, before Morgan clears his throat. He quickly shuts it off and slides it into his back pocket, before following Morgan into the round table room. 

"Why are you so happy?" Prentiss asks, and Spencer schools his expression, clearing his throat. 

"My, uh, ahem, my boyfriend texted me," Spencer says and Prentiss nods, seeming to accept that answer. Spencer lets out a sigh of relief. 

–

"[Y/N]? Are you home?" Spencer calls out into the apartment, and you walk out of the study in a pair of black skinny jeans and a black button down, heavy black work boots already on your feet. You walk over to your boyfriend and put your arms around him, leaning your forehead against his. 

"Go get dressed. We're going out tonight," you say, but Spencer groans. 

"Do we have to?" he whines and you frown. 

"You wanted to know what it was like, Spence. So, I'm going to show you," you say, and that gets Spencer's attention. 

He looks at you, wide eyed, and asks, "Really?" 

You nod and kiss him. "Really. Now, get dressed. We don't want you to ruin your good clothes," you say and he nods, giving you one, last, chaste, kiss before running into the bedroom. 

He comes out a few minutes later, and you almost take him right there. He's wearing a pair of black skinny jeans you bought him years ago, and a tight black t-shirt. 

You walk over and take him in a searing kiss, putting your hand down his pants and groping him. You realize then that he's not wearing underwear and you have to restrain yourself from fucking him on the floor. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," you mutter against his lips before pulling away. Spencer whines but you just pay his ass and motion for him to grab his stuff. 

Thirty minutes later you find yourself and Spencer in a club. When asked why you were coming here instead of a bar, you answer that no one would suspect him being here. 

He admits that it's actually very smart. 

You sit down in a booth and pull him onto your lap, making sure everyone around you knows who this gorgeous man belongs to. He tilts his head to the side to give you access to his neck, to kiss and lick and nip to your heart's desire. 

"I want to dance," you say to Spencer after a few minutes of indulging in your boyfriend. 

Spencer nods and gets up off your lap before grabbing your hand and letting you lead him out onto the busy dance floor. You can feel Spencer shaking underneath you, and you pull him towards you, putting your hands in his back pockets. You kiss him deeply, letting your bodies sway to the music, your groins rubbing against each other. You can feel eyes on the two of you, but you don't care. 

Spencer moans into your mouth and you pull away, nipping at Spencer's bottom lip. The man moans deliciously and you kiss him again, trying to drink every sound. You pull away again and Spencer is staring at you with a goofy smile on his face. 

"See?" you ask, loudly, over the music. "That wasn't so bad." 

Spencer nods and places his head in your neck, swaying to the music that you should be jumping to, but you don't care. You lock eyes with a young man with curly brown hair and pale white skin, and the man sitting next to him. You nod at them before turning to look down at Spencer, who still has his face buried in your neck. 

"Baby," you say to him, nudging him with your shoulder. He looks up at you so innocently, and you have to lean down and kiss him again, showing all your love in the single kiss, prying open his lips with yours and letting your tongues explore each other for the millionth time. Well, you know it's probably not the millionth, and Spencer could absolutely tell you the accurate number, but you're too distracted by his mouth to ask. 

You pull away again and say, "Let's go sit down. I want to find someone."

Spencer nods and you lead him back to the booth you were at before, sitting down before Spencer settles on your lap. You shift your hand from his hip to underneath his button up, resting it on his stomach. Spencer gasps and you feel his stomach flatten even more. You grind your hips up into his ass, already half hard at the thought of killing a pretty little brunette. He groans as that pretty brunette from before sits across from you with his friend next to him. 

"Hi!" the brunette says, grinning wildly, and you're struck by how much he looks like Spencer. Even more than the first. "I'm Daniel! This is my boyfriend, Gary!" 

The man next to him raises a hand, but doesn't say anything. You raise an eyebrow at that, but don't say anything about it. 

You smile at them. "It's nice to meet you both. My boyfriend and I were looking to meet some couples around here."

"You were magnetic! I couldn't take my eyes off you! I think Gary here was a little jealous…" Daniel says, and Gary glares at him, but doesn't say anything. 

You smirk and nuzzle Spencer's neck, who tilts his head to give you a better angle. "Isn't he just?" 

You lock eyes Daniel, who shudders. "Come join us out back. We've been looking for some fun…" 

Daniel grins, turning to look at Gary, who nods, before the two get up. "We're going to go to the bathroom, but I know that no one will bother us out back…" Daniel says and you nod, watching the two walk away. 

You kiss Spencer's cheek, who hasn't said anything for a few minutes. "What do you think?"

"Daniel looks like me," Spencer whispers and you nod against his throat. "Is he yours?" 

"If I could," you say, and Spencer nods. "He looks so much like you baby. But no one could ever be you." You kiss his cheek before leaning back and grabbing something from your back pocket, before placing it in Spencer's hand, underneath the table. "Gary's big, but he'll squeal like a stuck pig if you stab him. You need strength, but once the blade gets past the epidermis, it'll be easy." 

Spencer whines, grinding down onto your lap, and you lick right under his jaw. "I know."

You smirk. "Reading about it and doing it are two very different things. Don't be afraid to ask for help." 

Spencer nods again and you squeeze his thigh, before pushing him up and making him pocket the knife. You grab him by the hand and lead him out back, where Daniel and Gary are already waiting. You grin and let go of Spencer, walking over to Daniel before pinning him to the wall of the alley. He moans underneath you, and you reach into your back pocket, grabbing your knife. You tilt your head and Daniel latches his lips to your neck, and you look over at Spencer. 

He's also pressed against the wall behind him, and he's being petted by Gary ever so gently. When the man turns to look at his partner, you lock eyes with Spencer and nod miniscule-y, before turning back to Daniel. You wait until Gary's eyes are off you, before grabbing your knife, and flicking it open, before stabbing it right underneath the young man's solar plexus. 

You feel that rush and shiver as you look over, and see Spencer doing the same thing. Gary looks like he's about to cry as he looks over at Daniel, but you grin, your cock starting to harden in your pants. You pull the knife out and drive it in again, and again, and again, and soon, Daniel can't hold himself up anymore, and you let him fall to the ground. 

Looking at Spencer, you see he still hasn't moved, has kept his knife right where he first stabbed it, and you notice Gary starting to get angry. You walk over and lean in so your lips are right next to Spencer's ear, and you whisper, "What do you think?" 

That seems to break Spencer from his spell and he moans beautifully, before pulling the knife out and plunging it in again. You reach down and grab his already hard cock through his pants, groping him through the thick jeans, and Spencer bucks up into your hand, stabbing Gary again. 

After three, the man is dead weight and he falls to the ground. You step around his body and put your knife away, before pressing Spencer into the wall and kissing him, flicking your tongue into his mouth as he ruts up against you. You slip your hand into his pants and start stroking his cock, he groans, but pushes you away. 

"We- oh yes! We can't leave any evidence," he says and you sigh, taking your hand from his pants. 

You kiss him before saying, "You're right. You're so smart. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Spencer says and you grin, holding out your hand. 

He puts his knife away and takes yours before you lead him out of the alley, leaving two dead bodies behind. 

–

"He's accelerating," Morgan says the next morning at the debrief. 

There was no talk from Morgan this morning about Spencer getting some. As much as you wanted to mark his neck, Spencer talked you down, stating that if he caught onto what you were doing, the others would notice by the hickeys alone. You conceded and just marked him below the collar. 

As Spencer thinks about this he presses his fingers into one of the bruises and has to bite his lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy. 

"Yeah, he is," Rossi says. "Could be he's devolving."

Hotch shakes his head. "If that were the case, the bodies would probably be more roughed up. Gary Jenkins and Daniel Espinoza knew each other. They were dating. If one saw the other go down, there would be a lot of defensive wounds."

"What are you sayin', Hotch?" Morgan asks. 

Before Hotch can reply, Spencer interrupts and says, "He's saying he thinks the unsub has a partner." 

Hotch nods and Rossi and Prentiss look at each other. "I can see that being a possibility, but we can't rule out that he's just that good," Prentiss says and everyone nods. 

"Here's a thought," Spencer says, and everyone looks over at him. "The unsub could be a woman. Usually stabbing creates a sexual response in men who can't normally get an erection, being able to penetrate a body without using the penis, but there's been no semen found at any of the crime scenes. The first one it rained after, but the others it didn't, and there should have been some evidence." 

Morgan and Rossi nod but Hotch frowns. "Could be, but we shouldn't scrap what we have now for that," Hotch says and Spencer sighs. 

"I think I have something!" Garcia exclaims, running into the conference room. 

–

"I want to kill my father," Spencer says that night as you are making dinner for him. 

You freeze in your movements before continuing, asking hesitantly, "Are you sure? If you do, you probably won't be able to go back to the BAU. We may have to run."

You hear Spencer get up and walk over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning his chin on your shoulder. 

"Garcia found something, a surveillance camera at the end of the alley, the end we didn't walk through. But, they know there's two unsubs, and that one's Caucasian. They couldn't get a good read on you, but it's only a matter of time before you're found- before we're found out," Spencer explains and you nod, turning to lock your arms around his waist and kiss him deeply. 

"Okay, baby," you say, kissing him again. "Whatever you want, I'll provide. Anything."

Spencer grins and kisses you again.You feel him shiver as you move a hand from his hip to his lower back and you pull him in closer. "We'll get on the first flight out of here if that's what you want. Just you and me." 

Spencer nods. "We should do some planning, but I want that. I want to see the country, and not because some murder happened there." 

You grin. "I've always wanted to do a road trip of the country!" you exclaim and Spencer grins back, kissing you. 

"Me too." 

–

A week later sees you and Spencer on a cross country flight to Las Vegas, your apartment, car, and stuff all sold and liquidated into cash. You took as much money as you possibly could from your accounts and Spencer did the same. You both took your vacation time off from work. 

The rest of the BAU had been angry at Spencer, but understood his need to have his boyfriend meet his mother. There also haven't been any more murders in DC, which means their current back alley ripper case was currently cold. Hotch had approved it before he told the rest of the team. Spencer just didn't tell Hotch that you had already met his mother five years ago. 

The flight is long and cramped, but you and Spencer have each other, and that makes it worth it. You get to Vegas and as soon as you check into your motel, you fuck Spencer every way you can, wanting to feel every part of him, and needing to stretch after the long flight. Spencer wasn't complaining. 

But today was the day. 

Spencer's leg wouldn't stop bouncing in the taxi as you both made your way to his father's law firm. You don't know exactly what he did to Spencer as a child, but you know it was bad enough that he's still with you, willing to kill his own father to stay with you forever. You place a hand on his thigh and he looks over at you, nervousness written across his face like the headline of a newspaper. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek. "It will be okay. You can do this. And if you can't, I'll do it for you." 

He nods and you grin, kissing his cheek again before leaning back over into your seat, but you don't remove your hand from his leg. 

You arrive in front of the building and thank the cabbie, paying the fare and giving a tip before exiting the vehicle. You grab Spencer's hand and drag him into the brown brick building before he can turn around. You squeeze his hand and walk in, looking at the receptionist with a smile. 

He smiles at you, a large, fake smile that you know he practiced. "Hi! What can I do for you today?" 

You pull Spencer forward so he's standing next to you, and you ask sweetly, "Can you please tell Mr. William Reid that Doctor Spencer Reid, his son, is here to see him?" 

The man's eyes widen and he nods, picking up his phone and telling the man exactly that. You smile as he tells you what floor and room to go to, and Spencer is the one to drag you this time, going to the elevators. As soon as the door closes, you push him against the wall and kiss him. 

"We're so close, baby," you say, kissing him. 

He nods against your mouth before pulling back. "I love you." 

You grin. "I love you."

You give him a chaste kiss before pulling away right as the doors open, showing a long stretch of doors along a brown hallway. You and Spencer walk side by side to his father's door, and you knock. You grab Spencer's hand once more and the man squeezes your fingers, making you smile. 

The door opens, and William Reid is standing in front of you, eyes wide and mouth open. "So, you're the one who fucked up my baby for life," you say, and William blinks at you. It's just enough time for Spencer to draw his knife, and plunge it into his father's stomach, pushing him back into his office. The man lets out a strangled groan, and you walk into the office after Spencer, closing the door behind you. You look around and when you don't see a camera, you walk over to the desk, turning the laptop so it's pointing at Spencer and his father, and you hit record. 

Spencer brings both his hands up and slams them back down, plunging the knife into his father over and over, screaming out, "That's for telling me it's normal! That's for telling me to deal with it! That's for locking me in that dark room with nothing!" 

You flinch at that. Spencer can't be alone in the dark. You used to have a night light in every room so he wouldn't be scared. That makes your own anger flare up, and you walk over to the two men. Spencer is kneeling beside his father's chest, plunging the knife into him over and over again, drawing more and more blood. When he finally stops, panting heavily and leaning back on his feet, you grab his shirt and pull him to you, kissing him soundly, not caring about your pants being soaked through by the blood pooling around Spencer's father. 

You pull back before getting up, dragging Spencer with you, and you push everything but the laptop off the desk. You push Spencer face first onto it, freeing his cock from his pants and stroking him. It doesn't take long for Spencer to go from half hard to fully hard, and you pull down his pants, fishing a bottle of lube out of your coat. You make eye contact with the computer, and you coat your fingers in lube. You lean in and kiss Spencer's neck, still not breaking contact, as you insert one finger inside of Spencer, quickly adding another. Spencer moans loudly as you bite down on his pulse point, adding a third finger. You scissor him open, before opening your pants and taking out your cock, and slicking it up as well. You pull him to the edge of the desk, and slam into him in one go. 

He throws his head back and screams loudly, before leaning in and kissing you soundly. You move your eyes from the computer and close them, moaning at the feeling of Spencer's tight heat enveloped around your hard cock, and your hips stutter as you get closer to your release.

"Touch me! [Y/N] I need you to touch me," Spencer exclaims and you do as asked, using your already lubed hand to wrap it around Spencer's prick and start stroking him. He gasps and moans loudly into your mouth. 

"Spencer, baby I love you. So much," you say, and Spencer cries out, his body tightening, and his cum splashes on your hand and his shirt. 

When you feel Spencer clench around you, you cry out as well, making eye contact once again with the computer camera before you cum, filling Spencer with your seed. 

You pant and kiss him before slowly pulling out, your dick over sensitive and aching. You lean over Spencer, give the computer a wink, and end the recording, saving it to the desktop. 

"Baby," you pant, putting yourself back in your pants. "I want to see the Grand Canyon."

Spencer grins. "Have you never been?" he asks and you shake your head. His grin gets wider and he stands up, situating himself as well, before grabbing your hand. "Come on! We can take William's car!" You look in his desk drawer and grin, holding up his keys when you find them. 

That night, on a blanket next to the grand canyon, you and Spencer make love. 

–

Morgan and Prentiss walk into the crime scene, cringing at the amount of blood that has soaked into the white carpet. They walk over to the desk and look at the open laptop, clicking on the file in the middle of the screen. 

"😘.mov"

Prentiss throws up into the bin by the desk, and honestly, Derek wants to throw up too. 

[kikis-writing-world]

Sunflowers and Pink Roses

A/N: Full disclosure: I’ve never seen The Mentalist. Anything I know about Marcus is from y’all on here. So I know he’s sweet, romantic and deserved better™. I dunno, I had this fluffy idea and it just seemed him... apologies if I got his characterization way off since this is basically the fic version of broken telephone.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Rating/Warnings: PG - It’s super tame, I only even say PG because I think there’s one F-bomb in it. Also not thoroughly edited as usual.

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re still painfully single. Marcus happens to notice.

It was February.

More specifically, the second week of February.

February 14th to be exact.

Valentine’s Day.

You wouldn’t say you hated the holiday, but there weren’t a lot of days that strived to remind you just how single you were. You didn’t mind being single most of the time. You were a strong independent woman raised on Charlie’s Angels, Princess Leia, Miss Piggy. Like Destiny’s Child sang, “I depend on me!” You didn’t need a man to depend on for your happiness.

All of that didn’t stop you from watching those stupid Hallmark Romcoms with glossy eyes and an open yet slightly broken heart. You selfishly wanted someone who would look at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Someone who would send you good morning and good night texts, buy you little trinkets just because. Not to mention you wanted someone to do the same for. Someone you would think about during the day with a secret smile. You had all the love to give, just nowhere to direct it. At least not yet.

So on February 14th, you plastered the smile on your face with a little more force than usually needed. The water cooler gossip was mostly about who had what reservations where, what lovely things they had planned for the evening. You ignored the red and pink hearts hanging festively along the walls, trying to focus instead on the fact that tomorrow there would be a massive sale on candy and chocolates. Just keep your head down and make it through this one day.

The first bouquet arrived with a ding of the elevator, barely past ten in the morning. It was a modest bouquet of whites and reds. All eyes watched it as the delivery was carried through the office and placed on a coworker’s desk. A gift from her husband. The women fawned over the bouquet and you even offered a polite smile to Jenna, but ultimately turned back to work to tune it out.

The next gift was barely 30 minutes later: a white teddy bear carrying a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a balloon tied around it’s waist deposited on Petra’s desk.

Then chocolates for Selena.

Roses for Anton.

Bouquet for Rhonda.

Cookies for Tanya.

You lost count, but you couldn’t help but watch with envy as each gift was carried past, giggles and chatter following it. Maybe next year.

~☆*☆*☆~

Marcus loved Valentine’s day. He loved it more when he had someone to share it with, someone to dote on, but he still loved the sentiment behind it nonetheless. He watched from his office with a smile each time a new gift was deposited on someone’s desk. The happiness he felt carried a small sting, a reminder of the relationships of the past, but it faded fairly quickly as he shared in the happiness of his coworkers.

He had thought about trying to find a date for the night, trying out one of those dating apps he always heard about, but it felt forced. He wanted that romance but he wanted it organically. He wanted to meet someone at his local coffee shop or at a museum. In a library or at the park. Shy conversations while he worked up the nerve to ask for her number. Wondering how long to wait until he called. Worrying about how many dates until it was acceptable to kiss her. Despite the pain of past heartbreak, he knew when the time was right he’d find the one.

He watched with another grin as a massive, bright bouquet of pink, red and orange flowers was carried through the office. It was a little much for his tastes, he preferred something small that made a statement. He held pride in finding out his partner’s favorite flower or colour, using that information to personalize a gift like that.

As he watched the bouquet cross the floor to Indira’s desk, his eyes fell to your face. Your desk was opposite the windows to his office, so it wasn’t uncommon for his eyes to fall on you as he worked. Even through the window and across the 10 feet or so to your desk, he could read your expression like a book. You watched the flowers pass with a wistful envy before offering Indira a tight smile. You turned back to your work, smile falling and a crease appearing on your brow. Marcus was familiar with that expression because he had definitely made it before.

He leaned up in his chair, trying to sneak a look at your desk. He didn’t see flowers, stuffed animals, chocolates. Nothing left there by a loved one to brighten your day. He leaned back, trying to think if any of the office gossip he’d heard recently mentioned if you had a partner. He knew you weren’t married, not that he’d ever admit to subtly checking your hand for a wedding ring. He was technically your boss, your direct superior, and he knew first hand how messy dating a coworker could get. Yes, he thought you were pretty. And funny. And charming. And had a smile that could light up the room- He’d convinced himself plenty of times not to pursue it further, not wanting to get tangled in another workplace romance.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but as the elevator dinged with another delivery he watched the resigned envy cross your face once more.

~☆*☆*☆~

The end of the day was nearing. You’d been wondering earlier this morning if you could get away with sneaking out a little early. Luckily the deliveries had slowed down around 2:00, along with the fanfare that came with them. You just had to get through the next 30 minutes and you could head home, put on sweats, and eat the cookie dough that was waiting in the fridge.

A ding from the elevator had you look up, yet another beautiful bouquet walking through the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the ones that had come through today, but it had an understated elegance to it. The sunflowers seemed to glow around the delicate pink roses, a beautiful combination sitting in a clear vase with a white ribbon tied around it. You weren’t sure who they were for, it seemed most of the desks in the office already had flowers or gifts of some kind on it. You were shocked when you heard the young delivery boy say your name. Mary Ellen smiled brightly and pointed your way.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you noticed everyone’s eyes on you, a few of the women bold enough to follow the teen over to your desk. You nodded dumbly as he confirmed your name, setting the flowers down with a mumbled “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” Selena cooed, brushing her hand lightly against the flowers.

“I-I’m not.” You shook your head, staring at the beautiful flowers.

“A secret admirer?” Mary Ellen gasped, holding her hands under her chin. “That’s so romantic.”

“Is there a card?” Rhonda asked.

“Here!” Selena had found the little piece of cardstock among the stems, handing it over.

You bit your lip as you opened it, having no idea what to expect. You didn’t recognize the penmanship, but it could have easily been written by the florist.

~☆*☆*☆~

“Are you for real?” The guy on the phone laughed, his thick accent mocking Marcus. “It’s the second busiest day of the year and you wanna place an order now? You must be really stupid if you forgot Valentine’s Day.” The man continued to laugh.

“Look, I need it delivered before 5:00.” This was the fourth place he’d called, most of them laughing and hanging up on him. “Is that something you can do?”

“Oooh, that’s gonna cost ya. Big.”

“That’s fine.” Marcus sighed, leaning over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Okay, we don’t got much left-”

“Sunflowers?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to that flower at first, the request was out of his mouth before he really thought about it.

“Gimme a sec.” The man told him, gruff voice fading as Marcus heard him yell. “Hey Martha! We got any sunflowers left?”

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the back and forth on the other end of the line.

“Martha’s got sunflowers. Says she’s got a few extra pink roses she can throw in with ‘em. That work?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

“Whatd’ya want on the card?”

“The card?” Marcus parroted. He hadn’t thought about writing anything.

“You’re orderin’ a last minute bouquet, you better become Shakespeare real fuckin’ quick if you wanna stay out of the doghouse, loverboy.”

“Uhh…” He stuttered trying to find the right words.

“I ain’t got all day.” The man huffed. “Second busiest day of the year.” He reminded him.

“Uh, make it say… uh…”

~☆*☆*☆~

“Some may be intimidated by your shine But someone will come along and make you shine even brighter And they will be worth the wait”

“Wow.” Rhonda swooned. “That’s so sweet.”

“Is it signed from anyone?” Selena asked.

“No. That’s it.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It was beautiful.

“Oooh, secret admirer! Mary Ellen, you were right!” Rhonda sang. “This is so exciting.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anton leaned over from his desk to ask. You hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

“I-I have no idea.” You stuttered. It was true. “I wish I knew, so I could thank them or something.”

“Something alright.” Selena purred, making everyone shriek and giggle as you flushed.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” The voice cut through the giggles, making everyone sober up. Marcus was standing just outside his office door, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing. Just some Valentine’s Day magic.” Rhonda trilled. The giggles resumed, much quieter this time, as everyone fluttered back to their own desks to return to work.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, embarrassed that the excitement had disrupted your boss.

“It’s okay.” Marcus chuckled, toeing at the carpet of the office for a moment. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He teased with a grin, putting you at ease.

“Yessir, Special Agent Pike.” You mock saluted, making him chuckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too.”

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​

[cutegirlmayra]

I know you did a prompt a while ago about Amy having a fan and Sonic told him to basically get lost. So could you do something like that but make the guy feel more entitled to Amy and she owes him her love. And when she rejects him he gets really aggressive so it justifies Sonic being more aggressive in turn? I love how your depict protective Sonic soooo cute!

So, I have MANY jealous and protective Sonamy stories XD Shifting through them, I think you meant this one? (x) For future reference, if any of you lovely Anons want to maybe just... link?... the actual prompt I would be very much appreciative since I have over 900+ lol

(Preview prompt image provided by ArtsyAnnieRose (x) Please support the artist :)b)

As I mentioned when reviewing this Prompt on my youtube --> Pajama Blogs Ep. 1 Prompt Requests (x) Timecode: - 54:21 - I try and not do the same prompt twice, which means I like to rewrite things so that I don’t just keep making the same stories for different requests. So with this one, I’ve thought a lot about how to present it, and I think this will be fun! (Also, side note: I’m not making this cute and parody-like, I’ve changed my mind XD I have the right to do that! lol)

***TRIGGER WARNING***: (now you know it’s gonna get good.) I have subtly littered red flags throughout this story, if you have experienced stalking or manipulation strategies in your life please be aware they will be showing up in this fic. Due to the subtle nature of these traits, please be informed that I am in no way trying to downplay the danger of these situations, but showing that to the main character currently in these situations, her view of them is naïve and she sees no danger. Therefore, the gravity of the situation seems friendly and kind, but in no form am I saying these techniques are alright or acceptable. The ‘stranger’ character in this story is a creep, no matter how ‘charming’ or ‘sweet’ he may be portrayed in the innocent main character’s view. (If I write this correctly, hopefully, that message will be more clearer towards the end of the story.) I encourage any who recognize these toxic behaviors to please question your relationship with that individual and find safe, healthy relationships to pursue/keep instead. Whether your relationship with these kinds of people are platonic, friendship, or romantic in nature--please keep yourselves, families, friends, and other such loved ones safe. I will not be listing or detailing all occurrences of these moments within the story; however, with some psychology basics or google searching, you can find these common red flags or complexed manipulation strategies and how to better identify them.

Prompts are on shutdown! Do not send in any prompt requests at this time. Thank you!

Okay... let’s dive right in.

                                                 DIVE, DIVE, DIVE.

Note: This is another unconventional, more mature-themed story that I- well...

But my hope is that it’s still a story worth telling, so if you choose to, please enjoy.

Prompt:

Upon a rather dark and greying sky, as though the mentions of brief rainfall and storm weren’t apparent, many citizens in this bustling city were making their usual rounds around the mall. Carrying a thin jacket with an umbrella’s strap swinging at her side, Amy light-heartedly mused over a recent magazine’s article on the most eligible men, and read the chatty writer’s remarks on how Sonic The Hedgehog seemed to be away when the interviews for them were called.

She thought that so like Sonic, always away, but secretly just close enough to still keep tabs on what’s going on with the many locations in the world.

Eggman seemed to have a base everywhere, and while things had been pretty quiet as of late, she looked up from her magazine and once again wondered where in the wide, blue world he could be.

Was he bored? Off on another adventure? ... Napping? Eating? Was he eating enough?

She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, lost in her thoughts before a stranger flicked his wrist as he approached her, and a charging wind blasted in her direction. Blowing her back, it swiftly hit against her loosely closed umbrella, since Amy wanted to be prepared for any sudden downpour, and triggered it’s spring to further yank her back.

“Ah!” Amy tried to turn around to catch herself, the strap around her wrist forcing the sudden about-face as she grabbed her umbrella’s long steel pole to try and counter the pull.

“Woah!” the stranger that was passing her from the front suddenly stumbled at the sight and quickly rushed behind her, leaning over and grabbing where her hand was on the open umbrella as the wind suddenly stopped. His hand lingered by her side as though to brace with her and help, before noticing the wind stop and looking dumbfounded at the umbrella.

There was a silence as Amy felt the stranger was almost holding her, and turned to him with blinks, “Heh-heh... umm... Thank you.” her body was bent as she tried to use her heels against the pavement to counter-force the sudden rush of heavy wind, but with it’s immediate halt, she stepped forward and away from the strange, intimate moment to close her umbrella.

He stood more straighter, fixing himself up too before smiling kindly to her, “Does this happen to you often? Sudden, emmmm...” He swirled his palm-facing upwards hands around as he held the long, hummed note. “Bursts of photo-aesthetic air through your hair?”

Amy chuckled lightly, briefly looking back at him before continuing to fix her umbrella, worried it may be broken as the spring wasn’t going down well enough. Realizing it was probably jammed, she blew up some air to her bangs, figuring the worst, “Yeah, real convenient for a photoshoot. Maybe the photographer will settle for a water effect?” she gestured humorously up to the clouds, “All I need is a chair,” she teased, “Thanks again for the help. Really! You came out of nowhere!”

“Much like wind.” He joked back, putting his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to her. “You... wouldn’t mind if I take in the view of that shot, would you?”

“Huh?” she didn’t quite understand what he was making reference to.

He smiled as if realizing she didn’t get it and shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m clearly wasting your time,” he took out his own umbrella, looked at her a moment, then back to it. His long, brown and heavy jacket then flopped back to his side as he offered her it, “No offense, but I did just meet you. I would offer you my umbrella, but I’m worried I may never see it again. However, I have a solution,” He opened the umbrella and then gestured his hand to a restaurant near him. “So that we’re not strangers anymore, and I can trust you with something so dearly precious to me as an old, fifty cent umbrella I literally picked up from a second-hand store... might I entreat you to a meal?”

Amy smiled, relieved he was being so gentlemanly. “I wouldn’t mind at all!” she cheerily perked up, looking at her umbrella and tossing it in a garbage can. “I’m Amy,” She took his hand, curtseying. “Amy Rose.”

She did notice he was probably older than her, but he did a little bow and she realized she hadn’t notice his real height until his eyes matched her level. He held his eyes with her sights... and she wondered why he was pausing so long, “I know...” He finally whispered out, tilting his umbrella over her head, “You’re pretty famous, you know. Anyone would be lucky to help you out in a pinch. I’m Oscar, I work around here.”

Guiding her into the outdoor restaurant, he sat her at one of the white tables with it’s own umbrella on it and closed his, settling down on the opposite side of her. “Well, then! Do you mind this spot?”

“Oh, it’s my favorite, actually!” Amy chimed, knowing the location very well.

“Really?” He seemed a little less intrigued at that than Amy would have normally supposed someone would, but then after putting his umbrella away, leaned forward as though very attentive and putting his fingers together, his elbows on the wooden round table of white and letting his nose press down against his hands. He had gotten comfortable, and Amy, thinking this was his way of showing interest in what she meant, continued to sweetly respond.

“This is so funny, but I come here almost every Thursday and Friday for the new deals at my favorite store! I usually order the same thing too,... I really love ice cream.” Amy felt a strange new energy at meeting someone for the first time, and continued to feel refresh at this new-found friendship.

“Ice cream? No way! That’s my favorite too!” Oscar parted his fingers as though excited to hear this. “I have a sweet tooth. I know, I know, so silly of a man like me.”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Amy waved her hands out, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Well,...” He thought a moment, before smiling back to her and holding a wink, “I have an idea, you tell me yours first. I bet it’s probably very different.”

“I’m a simple girl, Vanilla is mostly my cup of tea. But... whenever I’m feeling adventurous, I go for it! Scoops of Vanilla and Chocolate with some random new flavor of mint or cookie flavored and then I top it with all sorts of stuff!”

He coughed as though shocked, “...That’s literally my favorite too!”

“What!?” Amy was excited to hear this, “I thought I was the only one that eccentric!”

“I know! That’s why I thought your answer would be completely different!” As Oscar continued to review Amy’s interests, he kept nodding along and reaffirming that they shared many similar interest and hobbies before the waiter appeared. “I love to chase certain thrills and excitements. I’m sure, being an adventurer, I figured that may be the reason why you place yourself in such perilous circumstances as well.”

“Your orders, lady? Sir?” The waiter asked, trying to kindly cut in as Oscar pulled out his wallet.

“Strawberry sunday with a hint of vanilla, you?” he looked back to her.

“Ha! That’s my Thursday order!” she giggled into her hand, “Same here, please!”

He shook his head, a little theatrically, “It’s almost like... where have you been all my life?”

“I mean, I know, right!? And you work around here! That’s so weird that I’ve never seen you before... where-”

“Ah, there’s really nothing interesting about me. I’m much more fascinated in the adventures you take. What with your friends always weighing you down and everything.” He basically ignored the waiter as he tried to ask any follow-up questions, and Amy just looked between the two and then smiled politely to the waiter, showing that that was all they were going to have.

“Weighing me down..? Oh no, without Sonic and the others, I couldn’t do anything as big as saving the world! We all need each other, you know?” She happily confirmed before he spoke again, sighing.

“I guess they would have you think that way, huh?” a offhanded comment that made Amy’s eyebrows furrow, but she just continued to speak about the wonderful traits and abilities of her friends, in which case, he kept shaking his head as though she was wrong.

“What?” She finally asked, “You don’t seem to like Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles...”

“I just think you could do with some different friends.” He shrugged, “Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.” In that moment, the waiter came back to place down their orders.

“U-undergrade..?” She looked down a moment, “N-no, no one’s holding me back or anything. I choose how I help out, I can’t always keep up with Sonic and the others so-” she stopped a second and shook her head, getting frustrated, “I-I mean, I can go with them whenever I want!” she retorted, and noticing her shift in demeanor, he took some ice cream and then held out his hand.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t keep up. I meant that you’re invaluable and they don’t treat you as such. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’ll show you how a true heroine should be treated. This meal is on me.” he gestured to her ice cream, “After this, I’ll show you some places that you probably haven’t been to before.”

“O-oh... T-That does sounds exciting!”

For a few weeks after that, Amy began to hang out with Oscar frequently. They would text back and forth, and she couldn’t help but smile when he always called her beautiful and made her feel so special. However, although the places they first went to weren’t so bad... he started showing her back alleyways with clubs and other ‘themed’ places that made her slightly uneasy.

She knew he was older than her, but would decline any invitation if he stated, “But I know a guy, he’ll let you in.” and continued to protest and remind him of her age.

That being said, the parks were lovely though!

He would often bring her little gifts and flowers too, stating that the next time she came with him, he’d bring some home-made food and had a habit of patting her head or brushing something off her hair if it landed on her. Though, Amy never noticed the ‘leaf’ that had fallen on her shoulder, or the ‘bug’ that was buzzing around her headband.

He also would usually lead her when they walked and talked, if they came to a corner, he would lightly put his hand to her back, until one time she mentioned his hand went just slightly lower than normal and he apologized profusely.

All was going very well, he even carried her bags and offered to take them home with her, but she insisted she would take the train and that he needn’t worry.

Finally, on a Friday when she was heading down for her sale, texting Oscar, a familiar wind picked up and almost brought up her dress.

“Oh, look out!” Oscar appeared and grabbed her dress, pushing it down. “Phew! Close one, aye?”

“W-where did you come from?” Amy adjusted her dress as he held his hands to the rim of her dress still, but when she looked up at him, he immediately released them.

“I suppose I just naturally come when you need me.” he scratched the back of his head, looking away as though shy. “I don’t know... sometimes, I can’t sit still, I get this feeling like you need me, and lo and behold!” He gestured to her, “You really do need someone looking after you twenty-four seven, huh?” he squatted down to look up at her, then his face turned to concern. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone to look after you... especially in moments like this.”

“W-what are you talking about? I have Sonic!” Amy placed her Miles-Electric away and gestured for him to stand upright, but instead, he took her hands and placed them on his cheeks, acting cute but a lot younger than he actually was.

“But he didn’t save you, I did~” he whined, squishing her hands to his cheeks and rotating them around as she thought him slightly weird and took them away, pushing him back as he stumbled. “H-hey!”

“Oh, you! Sonic is just the same way! He can’t sit still when he senses someone needs him... hey, that reminds me of my article...” Amy remembered the magazine she was subscribed too, and looked over to see that within his usual trench coat, was a page of that article sticking out. “Ah!” She pointed to it, amazed, “You read ‘Famous Quips’ too!?!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he seemed to speak quickly, before shoving the magazine back in deeper. “Ehem, kinda a girlie magazine... promise not to tell anyone? I don’t wanna lose my street-cred!”

She laughed, “You are like Sonic! Always acting so cool...” she shook her head and took his arm, what she had started doing since he offered it so many times, and they walked down the street.

He bought anything her eye rested on, which made her beg him to at least let her pay for food, as he mentioned a concert happening at the club he kept trying to get her to go to.

“Come on, you’ll love this band! We adore the same music too! I know a perfect spot in the back where no one will see us and the bouncer is my friend!” his voice was enthusiastic, nudging her every now and then with his elbow as she looked away and rolled her eyes. “You’re not a babe anymore, Amy! You’re gonna end up going to clubs eventually, might as well be with someone you know, right?”

“I don’t know...” Amy looked down,... and he gently stopped walking to look away from her.

“...Do you not trust me?”

“W-what?” Amy let go of his arm, “What do you mean? Of course I do!” she was very hurt by his accusation, “I mean, we’ve hung out so much, I just don’t really think clubbing is my thing...”

“You never want to do what I suggest.” He looked down, “I go to your favorite store with you and help you bargain hunt, I take you around the park... I’m just saying, the one time I want to go and do something, you keep saying no.” he folded his arms, and Amy began to panic that he was really offended by her.

“T-that’s not true, Oscar! I...” she looked away a moment, and he looked back at her.

“...Ah, I can’t stay mad at you.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her there. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, hey, let’s go get ice cream and talk about it later, okay? I’ll pay again.”

Her eyes shifted about, not sure what that was all about. “N-no, I’ll pay.” she tried to move away but kept an arm around her and led her on.

“I wouldn’t be considered a man if I let the woman pay!” he insisted, and ended up paying for the meal.

As it got late, he offered to carry her bags home again, and whined in a goofy way when she kept saying it was too late to have guests over, but maybe sometime.

“If you won’t see the concert with me, at least take me to your place sometime. It’s the least you could do for me.” He gave her the bags, then stroked her hair again, “You really shouldn’t be taking the train at night, you never know what sicko might be on it. You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.” he laughed, but that stung Amy’s pride a bit.

She held her bags and looked away a moment, “...Is that... how I come off to people?”

“Oh sure!” he then continued to stroke her head, “...You ... didn’t notice?”

“...That I look weak?” Amy shook her head and he instinctively removed his hand.

He held it in the air a moment, before letting it rest on Amy’s head again, as though realizing she wasn’t doing that to make him stop.

“No... the part where I... gave you a new nickname.” He smiled, tenderly and squatted down to her level again, keeping his hand on her head. “Amy dear. I think it’s cute!”

“...O-oh, I mean, I don’t really like how it could appear though.” Amy had a bead of sweat form and he abruptly got up, looking upset.

“Don’t like how it could appear!? What does that mean!?” He snapped.

She flinched at his sudden uproar, as he grabbed a bag from her, “I’ve been wanting to introduce the nickname to you all day! And that’s how you think about it!?” he looked as though he was going to either smash or rip the bag, but just looked furiously away from her, “I thought about it a lot, you know! It was suppose to mean something!”

Amy grew slightly afraid, but not taking this sudden mood-swing again, she opened her mouth to say something.

He interjected and looked dead in her face, “You really don’t trust me, do you, Amy?”

Thinking she didn’t want to hurt him, she shook her head, “I-I never said that!”

“Don’t yell at me,” he looked downhearted suddenly, even though she wasn’t raising her voice that much, not like he was.

“I’m not-”

“You are, and it’s really making me feel like you’re just... you don’t consider me a friend. I told you people usually reject me,... I was vulnerable to you!”

“Oscar, calm down a moment and-”

“You’re the one who’s not ‘calming down’ you can’t do a single thing I want to do! You’re being... selfish!” he flopped the bag down in front of her, startling her as he took off stomps and a hissy-fit.

Not able to process that sudden shift in behavior, Amy was lost to her thoughts and... slowly... proceeded to get the bag and head to the train station.

Numerous texts came flooding in that week as she hadn’t gone back to the plaza and mall, and she kept wondering how he knew she wasn’t there. They had hung out multiple times, maybe he was just expecting another hang out without actually asking this time...

Still, she felt somewhat obliged to text back: Sorry, I’ll see you Friday. This Thursday, I just felt sick.

Oscar: Do you need anything? Send me your address, I’ll bring you medicine and make you some food! I really am sorry if I scared you, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re beautiful and I’m just insecure. You know how I can be, just like you, I get really attached to people and just want to be accepted. I’m really sorry, please don’t not see me again! I promise I’ll get myself under control, we’ll do whatever you want to do this time! Honest!

Amy didn’t text back...

Oscar: The concert is next Friday, I won’t mention it again but... it would be really awesome if we could see Pop Pinkies together... I know it’s my favorite band and our favorite music is what they play so... just think about it at least, alright?

That Friday, Amy was wearing something that made her almost blend in with the crowd. Unlike her usual bubbly skip in the streets, she was hiding beneath her umbrella and coat, as though not wanting to be spotted.

A sudden burst of wind and she panicked, darting behind a corner and putting her umbrella away. “Dumb wind.” she mumbled, looking around to make sure Oscar wasn’t there...

The wind suddenly shifted as she poked her head out, “That’s odd, wind doesn’t usually change direction unless...” she turned and gasped as she saw Sonic, leaning his head towards her and looking confused.

“...Since when did you start taking the back-alley ways? Don’t you know that’s dangerous, Amy?” He blinked, furrowing his brow as he straightened up and folded his arms, “Heh, long time no-”

Amy’s mind was suddenly triggered by something Oscar had said, and she tuned out Sonic completely, her world going dark...

“I just think you could do with some different friends. Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.”

“You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

“Is that... really how I appear to you?” Amy’s voice quaked as she spoke it, “Do I really look weak... even to you?”

Sonic was taken aback by the tears forming in her eyes, and immediately dropped the friendly banter, “Amy? What’s wrong? Weak?” he didn’t know where she got that notion from. “N-no, I-... Amy, is something wrong?” he moved forward to reach for her but pulled away, something Amy wasn’t used to as she really did--for a brief moment--think he was going to place his hand on her head.

Almost as if expecting that, she leaned her head in a strange way and then back, not sure why she did that.

He didn’t notice the action though, but she hugged herself, also remembering that after the light head pats was usually a strong and forceful embrace...

“...Amy?” she hadn’t responded to him, and now, Sonic was noticing a very clear change in Amy.

“N-no, of course you wouldn’t think that... I’m sorry, I really don’t... I don’t want to be around people right now.” she looked away, “I... I made someone feel really bad and I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? What did you do?” Sonic lifted his hand and she immediately looked at it, which made him pause. “...Umm... I was just gesturing... Amy...” His ears bent back, not sure why she looked so squarely at his hand. “Is everything okay?”

She really thought he was offering her hand, but she didn’t want to take it... not this time.

“I made a new friend, and he’s mad at me. I’m worried... if I hurt him again, he’ll really be in a bad emotional state, and it’ll be all my fault.” Amy put her umbrella up and started to walk away from Sonic, “I want to take a new route, I didn’t even want to come out today...”

“...Amy, you don’t control this new friend’s behavior, they do.” Sonic corrected her and walked beside her, focusing heavily on the signs of uncomfortability Amy was showing. “...What happened with this ‘new friend’ of yours?” He directly asked, and Amy relayed to him how she met him, then how he liked all the things she liked and agreed with everything in the beginning, how charming he was before the more time she spent with him, he seemed to change and start acting funny... but not in the good way.

“...He likes everything you like?” Sonic lowered his head a little, honing in on some things Amy briefly mentioned.

“Yeah, isn’t that crazy? He’s a guy but he totally loves sweet things and a popular girl’s magazine I enjoy.” Amy smiled, closing her eyes as though cheering up when thinking about it.

“...And he knew your order before you even made it?” Sonic folded his arms, putting two and two together.

“Yeah...” Amy suddenly slowed down in her steps, her eyes widening.

Sonic closed his eyes, matching her speed as he began to help her focus on the more important parts of her story, “And this... strange wind that passes by here... only comes at you and blows your dress up or opens your umbrella?”

She stopped.

He continued to walk, “And you say he works around here... which means he may have seen you come and go multiple times... and probably watched you ordered and heard what you liked, and saw what you read, and knew about you from the news and press... he disliked your friends and took you places and then entitled himself to being in charge over your Thursday and Friday venues... then, to really top it all off with the icing on the cake and all that jazz... he’s been insisting you go to a adult-themed club with him and throws a tissy-fit when you say no?”

Sonic stopped, his fists had already tightened into such hard balls of fury that he had to take silent deep breaths just to contain himself.

“And worst of all... he’s tried to copy me and put it in your mind that your friends don’t respect you the way we should... isolating you,” He put out a finger, “Grooming and manipulating you... Amy, you should have written this guy the moment he snapped at you... and probably sooner, but I’ll take that as you were just seeing the best sides of him... and not the dirty kind.” he didn’t turn around, but he felt Amy lingering behind him and knew if he said anymore, she may just start crying. “...Where do you think this creep is now?”

“He... He’s not a creep.” Amy lied, feeling in her heart that she just did lie, for Oscar’s sake...

Sonic tsk’ed and turned around, “How can you stand there and defend him!? Do you even know what Grooming is!?”

“...I... I don’t.” she wiped her eyes, “I don’t think I know anything...”

The manipulation had really set in on Amy, she was denying something she knew was true and didn’t know why. She was defending a man who clearly was up to no good, and yet... she cared about him still.

“Sonic... I think... I think I’m sick.” she held her stomach, the realization setting in. “You don’t think... he wanted me to take him to my house to..?”

“He wanted to what!?” Sonic lunged forward, holding his fists back and to his sides as he tried to remain level-headed, pulling away from her. “Amy, you know the truth now, it’s time to end this... ‘friendship’ you two have.”

Amy fell to her knees, “That’ll kill him!”

Sonic immediately looked behind him, Amy almost begging him not to make her do it as Sonic couldn’t stand to see her this broken and twisted up from Oscar’s scheming.

“Amy...” he wanted to say so many things..! But instead, just turned around and held a strong look, “You have to face this... but you won’t be alone.” He offered her his hand, “I won’t leave your side, and I’ll be there the whole way through. You deserve to go out and have fun without someone telling you that it can only be ‘their’ way of fun.” He looked so serious... but she felt a peace wash over her at how she knew his words were never lies or deceits for something devious. His words were for her and her well-being... not once did Sonic ever yell or enforce his way about things at all. He listened to her, even though she knew he must be raging inside at his friend’s predicament... it’s not like she purposefully got herself into this mess.

“You know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

She placed her hands up against her eyes, crying. “Am I... being a burden to my friends, Sonic?”

He immediately scooped her up into a bridal-style hold, “Which store did you want to visit today, Amy? Or do you want to just go home?”

“Please, I want to go home.” Amy held onto him as without a second word, he zoomed off.

The next few days, Sonic instructed that Amy block the number, but text messages seemed to not be the only thing Oscar knew... He called her home number, which surprised both of them, and the phone never stopped ringing.

That next Thursday, Sonic accompanied Amy everywhere she went, and they didn’t spot Oscar anywhere. But come that Friday...

Sonic was carrying some of Amy’s bags, she didn’t look fully recovered from anything, but at least she was wearing brighter colors in her coat she wore that day, and a nice sun hat as Sonic held the umbrella up for her.

He looked a little bored, but kept his eyes peeled when a sudden wind shoved him to the pavement.

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy turned around but was immediately grabbed around the waist, pulled back. “Gah!”

“I can’t believe you let him back into your life!!!”

Amy’s ears rang with Oscar’s voice, before shoving him back and falling down beside Sonic, who quickly shook off the wind blast and spun around to pick up Amy’s things, placing the bags by the store’s window.

“So, this is the wind-manipulator, eh?” Sonic rotated his shoulder out, having landed on it pretty roughly, “Look, I don’t know anything about you, and neither does Amy, really! So either get the hint and quit bothering Amy, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands!” he hunkered down, getting ready for a fight, but... he also seemed not to be putting on airs or a show.

Sonic... although smiling a bit as he spoke to him, suddenly took a darker and more focused attention on how Oscar was holding himself.

Oscar looked to Amy, not even talking to Sonic, “I told you everything about me... What does that lying Sonic know about you!? I’m the one that’s been with you this whole time while he’s been off, probably with some other girl!”

Amy thought that ridiculous, and seeing him in a new light, she was able to at last come to fact with this pervert in front of her. “You... you were never my friend... were you, Oscar?”

He bit his teeth down, “Is that what he made you think?!”

“No, that’s what he made he realize!” She threw up her hammer and blasted wind at her.

She was forced to slide against the concrete, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Amy dear!” he cried out, “We’ll settle this when he isn’t around!”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, Oz!” Sonic, seeing that his hands controlled the wind, kicked it away from Amy’s direction and then spun in a rotation within the air to punch him down.

He stumbled, as though not used to physical fighting and tumbled all the way over into the street.

“I’ve known Amy much longer and deeper than you have! You’re just some creep who takes advantage of little girls!” Sonic’s fists was shaking, clearly, he didn’t want to just leave it at one blow. “Amy, get behind me!” He gestured out his hand and Amy immediately got up and moved behind him.

“I can... I think I can fight him!” She tried to state, but Sonic looked behind his shoulder and she put her head down. “I... I want to but...”

“...You still care about me, don’t you, Amy dear?”

“Quit calling me that!” Amy threw her arms down, “You used me! You weren’t my friend! I can’t believe I trusted you!”

Sonic turned to the man, “Why are you even answering him, Amy? He’s not talking to you, he’s talking to some Amy Dear girl he’s been building in his mind. You were never anything to him... it was the girl he was crafting that he was interested in.” Sonic slowly walked towards him as the man started to scoot back, clearly not able to fight Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Let’s play a new game...” Sonic suddenly lifted up a device, “Is your real name Warner Windstrom? You’ve got a bounty on your head that the cops are just dying to claim...” he pressed the button as suddenly an alarm went out, and from around the corners, police vehicles blocked his way of escape. “Oh, and that club? A typical place where your old ‘hostages’ claimed they were drugged. Trust me, pal, I’ll personally make sure you don’t get out of jail again.” Sonic let the police start moving in but Warner immediately shoved air beneath him and flew into the sky, shocking everyone as Sonic held up a arm over his eyes and moved back to Amy, shielding her as well.

She was in shock, that kind man she knew was suddenly a criminal and had previously hurt and abused other women... She didn’t know Sonic set this all up, but she probably wouldn’t have let him if she had known.

“I thought we were just gonna talk to him!” she cried out, putting her hand on his shoulder before shaking her head, “I’m defending him again... aren’t I?”

“Amy shouldn’t be with a loser like you, Sonic!” Warner cried out, “You can’t always save her! You can’t always be around to-!”

Before he could finish, a hammer slammed into his gut.

“Nice one, Amy.” Sonic complimented, as Amy stood up beside him.

She didn’t say anything, but judging from the neutral expression... and tears streaming down her eyes...

He just looked back at Warner, “I know this is a lot to take in... but trust me on this one... You’ll be alright.”

Amy summoned another hammer, “Want to give me a lift?”

“Certainly.” Sonic spun into a ball that lifted him up into the wind, then uncurled to reach out for Amy as she jumped, “Hit him hard!” he encouraged as he threw her up the rest of the length.

She pushed her dress down as he extended his arms to her, “Amy, please! You know me! I love-!”

She just growled and let out a piercing war-cry, slamming her hammer down on his face, “I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything, buzz off!!!!”

He slammed to the ground, and as the wind ceased, Sonic landed and caught her immediately, and the two watched as the police immediately took him.

He kept trying to call out to Amy but she didn’t say anything back, just ducking her head into Sonic’s shoulder.

Sonic’s eyes never left Warner’s face... but leaving the scattered bags around, he took her to the park near by and sat her down.

He waited there... as Amy was just frozen in her thoughts... unable to speak.

After some time, she got up and walked to stand beside him, “What about the bags?”

“Not concerned.” Sonic stated, then looked back to her, “You okay?”

“No,” Amy admitted, “You were right. It’s gonna take time... but I wish it would all just go away now.” she placed her hands on the side of her arms, “How... how did you know? When I was telling you about him... how did you know he was no good?”

Sonic tilted his head back and forth, then tapped his head. “When you’ve been around the block a few times... helping justice here and there... you learn a thing or two about red flags, Amy... you don’t have a lot of dating experience--or just knowing bad dudes are like that--in general! I don’t blame you... but I do think that you should be careful who your friends are.”

She scooted closer to him... then tilted her head to his shoulder.

“..Can you help me get better?”

“No,” he lightly tilted his head to hers, “But I can be with you while you figure it out.”

There was a long moment of silence as they held that comforting moment...

“Will I ever be me again?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“...No,” He responded, tenderly, as though a whisper as he looked up at the rain being to slowly drop all around them. “But I can be with you as you learn to accept her.”

Amy closed her eyes, feeling the small drops of rain before it all at once, speedily came down on them.

“...Will you still love me? At the end of it all?”

Silence...

“I already do.”

Rain scattered as Sonic held his eyes straight up into the clouds... the storm in his heart subsiding as Amy cried and her shoulder’s bounced beside him.

[babydollmarauders]

Can I please request a imagine for Luke from Julia and the plantoms with 4 and 7 where the reader is tutoring a guy and he kiss the reader and before she can push him off Luke see it and feel hurt and won’t talk to you?? Please with happy ending!!!thanks!

Silent Treatment (ALIVE! Luke Patterson x Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: After catching them in a predicament, Luke gives reader the silent treatment.

Pairing: ALIVE! Luke Patterson x Reader

Prompts: 4. “Why are you lying to me?” and 7. “Do you even still love me?”

Warnings: Mild language.

------------------------------------------

You were sat at one of the long wooden tables in the library, the chair you were in, broken on one leg. Across from you sat a boy with medium blonde hair and brown eyes, freckles adorned his face and he had a small beauty mark on his left cheekbone, Thomas. Thomas was in your Advanced Placement U.S History class, which you happened to have the best grade in, and he wasn’t doing very well, so of course you were dragged in to help him. Currently you were about half an hour into an hour long tutoring session, the fourth of many to come.

“What is a common law that established the birthright of the eldest son to inherit the estate?” You asked, left hand clasped tightly on the flashcard, your left grasping a pastel pink highlighter.

“Law of primogeniture?” Thomas’ voice was deep, yet soft. His arms were folded on the table in front of him, his head lying on top of them. A small smile grew across your face.

“Yeah! See, you’re getting better already! You’ll have a B in no time.” You reached out to lightly touch his arm, attempting to cheer him up. You were glad when you saw him smile, the pink tint to his cheeks going unnoticed by you. “Only about 20 minutes left.”

“You know, I can’t thank you enough for helping me.” Thomas inched his chair closer to yours. “You’re really sweet.”

“Oh. Thank you, Thomas.”

“You know, I’ve always thought you were really pretty. And now that I’ve gotten to know you and found out how amazing you are, it’s only made me like you more.” He slowly leant in, which in turn made you lean back.

“Oh. Thank you, Thomas. But you know, I have a boyfriend.” You attempted to let him down gently, but it hadn’t seemed to have worked, as all instead of backing away, he scooped his hand behind your neck and crashed his lips against yours. Your hands immediately made way to his chest, pushing against it to try and free you of him.

At this moment Luke walked in the entrance of the library. Weaving his way through the isles of books, searching the empty tables for his girlfriend, to let her know he was here to pick her up. But when he finally found you, there you were, lips locked with Thomas’. Tears sprung to his hazel eyes, his breath caught in his throat. He turned on his heel, briskly making his way back through the library and out the entrance, leaving you.

Once you finally succeeded in pulling away from Thomas, you stood abruptly, your chair skidding away as it hit the back of your legs. You hurriedly gathered your textbook and notes, shoving them haphazardly into your bag.

“I tried to let you down gently, but since that didn’t seem to sink into your thick skull, let me try a different approach.” You pushed in your chair and flung your bag over your shoulder, backing away a few feet to give yourself some room. “I am not interested in dating a stupid, egotistical, asshole like you. I’m not interested in guys who go around kissing other people’s girlfriends and thinking its okay. Because it isn’t, and one day, that will come back to bite you in the ass. So, tell Mrs. Kelly that she has to find you a new tutor, because you sexually harassed your other one.”

You rushed through the shelves of books, and through the entrance of the library. Your feet scurried across the linoleum floors of the hallways, narrowly missing lockers as you turned, until you pushed through the doors of the school. Your eyes wondered the parking lot, searching for your boyfriend’s car. When you didn’t see it, you pulled out your phone and pulled up the messages app, quickly tapping on the most recent conversation, which happened to be Luke.

‘Hey, are you almost here? Done a few minutes early.’

After a few minutes go by and he doesn’t reply, you decide to message again

‘Babe? You on your way?’

After another 15 minutes go by and its officially been 20 minutes since you were supposed to be done, you finally came to the conclusion that he forgot and was at band practice instead. So, you started the walk to Julie’s house, figuring it was closer than yours, and that was most likely where your boyfriend and his best friends were. In about 12 minutes, you arrived and your suspicions were proved to be correct when you saw Luke’s car parked in the driveway. Making your way towards the garage/studio, you could hear the band practicing a new song. A smile spreading across your face, you opened the door to the garage and stepped inside, the band glancing up to look at you, they all gave you a quick smile before harnessing all their focus back on the song. Well, all except for Luke. Your boyfriend didn’t even glance your way, which made your eyebrows furrow and a pout to adorn your lips. You chose to take a seat on the black faux-leather couch, dropping your bag on the floor next to it and scrunching your legs up to let you hug your knees. You watched the band practice song after song until they finally decided they had enough for the day. The band took care of their instruments before exiting the garage in order to go to Julie’s house to get snacks. You stood from the couch, following behind your group of friends, but halting in your tracks when you noticed Luke was still standing by the piano.

“Hey babe. I texted you, but I’m guessing you didn’t see them since you guys were practicing.” Your feet shuffled against the concrete floor of the studio, bringing you closer to your boyfriend. But a frown adorned your face when you watched him take a step back. “Luke? Is everything okay?”

He made no move to reassure you that everything was okay between the two of you. Making your worries grow.

“Luke, please just tell if I did something wrong.” When the boy continued not to pay you any mind and instead exited the studio, you knew something had to be wrong, but if he didn’t want to talk to you about it right now, you would accept that and give him space. You picked your bag up off the floor, and left the studio as well, walking down the driveway, and slowly to your house 10 minutes away.

________________________________

It had been 3 days since the tutoring session, and it was now Saturday. Luke had still yet to speak to you and at this point you knew it was time for you to force him to speak to you. You grabbed your bike from your garage, setting your phone and wallet in the basket in front. You pedaled your way to Luke’s house, leaning you bike against the side of his house and knocking on the door. The door opened to his mother, smiling back at you. You two had always gotten along, she was like the mother that you never had, since yours left when you were very young.

“Hello Y/N, I hadn’t seen you in a few days! I was getting worried that you and Luke broke up!” She opened the door farther and stepped aside to let you in.

“No ma’am! Or at least I would hope not, considering he didn’t tell me!” You let out a light chuckle, but secretly you had really meant what you said.

“Luke’s in his room, Love.” You made way to his room, your knuckle rapping gently against the door. When the door opened slightly, you pushed it open fully before closing it behind you. You turned to look at your boyfriend laying on his bed, seeing his eyes roll lightly before he turns on his side, his back facing you.

“Luke, what is wrong? You haven’t spoken to me in 3 days, and it’s making me scared.” Your voice wavered slightly, and you took a seat at the end of his bed, next to his feet.  “Luke, please, say something.”

“Do you even still love me?” His voice was raspy, as if he had been sleeping or crying, you figured the former.

“What? Why would you ask me that? Of course I do. Or else I wouldn’t be here right now.” Tears pricked at the back of your (e/c) eyes, not believing that he would think that you don’t love him anymore.

“I saw you. In the library. With Thomas.” Yours eyes grew large, your breath getting caught in your chest. Of course you had planned on telling him what happened, but you hadn’t had the chance, considering he hadn’t spoken to you since the incident.

“I can explain. I didn’t kiss him. I promise.” By now your voice was shaking.

“Why are you lying to me?” He flipped over to face you, his eyes red and puffy.

“I’m not! I swear!” Your hand reached out to grasp his, but as soon as they brushed against each other, his pulled back. “He kissed me! I was trying to push him off. I told him I have a boyfriend, but he didn’t listen. And after, I told him to get a new tutor. I promise, I would never do that to you. I love you, Luke. I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I would never cheat on you.”

“You swear?” You could see the glint of hope in his eyes, he sat up and scooted to sit next to you.

“I swear. You can even ask Thomas. I was gonna tell you afterwards, but then you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, I should’ve let you explain. I also probably shouldn’t have left you there.” He grasped your hand in his, you laying you head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t even think of the fact that you left me on purpose.” You chuckled and pushed his shoulder and joked; “Asshole.”

Luke grabs your wrists to keep you from pushing him again. Pulling you flush against him and pushing his lips against yours. Your lips moved in sync with his for a full 30-seconds before you both pulled away to catch your breath.

“You still owe me for making me walk a full 22 minutes by myself.”

---------------------------------------

Taglist: @starkeysgirl @meangirlsx @whyisquill @walkingonshunshine @sunsetcurve-h @aunicornmademedoit @solophantoms @noncannonships @chennyetomlinson @dpaccione @lolychu @carleywhittaker @pinkflowercassy @marinettepotterandplagg @cth-lover @talksoprettyjjx

[bittybattybunny]

Good day it’s a new au time cuz BRAIN ROT BRRRRR

Anyhow it’s a “MCU” but not kinda au

big thanks to @doodleimprovement for dealing with my word vomit over this au lol iamsosorry

Ru is a tech company CEO giant with his daughter Harriet (his business partner is his former wife who wants nothing to do with their kid) and adopted the recently orphaned Kaya Solaria after she helped stop a mugger in the alley way (well. Spider King did but her mask got hit off by a bullet and Ru saw it was just a kid and stepped in)

Working on running a company, raising his 6 year old as well as a super powered 15 year old (Kaya actually has Spiderman’s powers, King came after the fact and is tied to how she lost her dad) he ends up getting injured on a business trip after he was taken captive. Upon return he decides to try and ‘be a hero’ as a means to get his eldest to stop sneaking out (she has guilt over her dad dying so tries to be a hero to make up for it despite Ru asking her to wait until she’s 18 at least)  he figures if he can get the world (or at least their city) safer, she can rest at ease (cuz he’s a good dad and just wants her to... be a kid. not try to be more than a kid) he uses the Alias “Thorned Snatcher” (as his last name is Thatcher)

Vanessa however wants his new tech as she thinks its the key to a new weapons future and nearly kills Ru when she rips the reactor from his chest. Thankfully he had his old model still and his secretary (Eclipse) and daughters get home in time to help him. he knows if he doesn’t stop Vanessa things will be even worse for his family.

During their fight, he’s knocked down and nearly stops there to tired, but hears his daughters crying for him, specifically for the first time since he adopted her Kaya calls him “Dad”. He knows he needs to keep to his goal and if Vanessa is left free he failed a father.

He manages to get up with the Help of Eclipse who joined the fight, having stalled Vanessa hand to hand despite Vanessa’s weapon suit (sus eclipse is sus) and he’s able to fight again and put an end to her.

he gives Kaya a stipulation when they are waiting on the cops, he’ll let her fight crime, but only when he’s with her.

and thats the first part of this au eve (second bit deals with miss secretary past. A woman who is able to give Kaya a sore hand with a high five despite kaya can stop some extensive things (likepeterstoppingbucky’sfist) and went toy to toy with Vanessa with just a hub cap. Hrm. Cap. Cap. Captain...?)

I actually wrote up when Ru met Kaya. It’s a lil fast pace but I did it on purpose.

“If ya just hand ova ya wallet and yer valuables, you and yers can get out of here with a scar on your little faces.”

Arulius sighed as he heard the mugger and moved an arm to push his 6 year old behind his back. He gently gestured to his watch with a finger, to which she tapped a button on to call their bodyguard, Florence. 

“I’m afraid I really don’t have time for this. Harriet has a dance recit--” Arulius clicked his tongue when the gun was pressed up into his neck.

“I’m bein generous, man.” he pressed it further, pulling the hammer back.

“That’s not very polite! Did your dad never tell you not to stick your shooter in people’s faces?” Came a laughing voice. The mugger gasped when black webbing stuck to his back and pulled him to the ground. 

Standing perpendicular to the wall was the dark-suited figure, glowing white eyes and jagged smile laughing.

“D-Dad! Dad, it’s Spider King!” Harriet giggled as she hung onto her dad’s leg. He scowled and went to step back.

“YA FREAK!” The mugger tried to fight against the restraints, the primed gun going off in the hero’s direction.

There was a hiss as the masked figure fell off the wall with a solid thud. Arulius scooped Harriet up, only stopping when he saw the vigilante's face, the bullet having knocked her mask off.

“A… A kid?” he grimaced. Why was a CHILD attacking a mugger? Before he could open his mouth to speak there was a hissing.

“N-No King don’t! I’m fine! I’m fine!” the teenager gasped as the black claws she had tore off in slimy chunks, lunging at the mugger. She winced with the crunch as his hands were removed and she paled some, shaking.

Arulius shielded his daughter’s eyes.

“BOSS!” The red head came barreling down the alley, a bit too late when Spider King tried to grab her mask. 

“Stop.” Arulius ordered her. She looked up with frightened gold eyes. The tentacles retracting up her sleeves, “wait a moment.”

“Oh gross!” Florence shuddered as she moved to get the mugger up, the man an incoherent mess, “you do this?” she asked the teenager whose temple was bleeding.

She said nothing and gripped her arms as she tried to process. She blinked when tiny hands went to her cheeks.

“BIG SIS IS SO COOL!” Harriet giggled. Her father was talking on his phone.

“I-I’m.. No…” she looked away ashamed, “Y-You… I’m… I just… wanted to help…” she began to sniffle, “I-I didn’t mean for king to…”

“He hurt Sol. Bite back.” The snake-like creature peeked from the girl’s collar.

“I-I told you no biting h---” she placed her hands over her mouth and scurried to her feet, violently vomiting into a trash can. She panted some. Tensing when a hand rubbed her back gently.

“Yes. yes. He shot his own hands off in his confusion. Must be high.” Arulius was standing near her now as he spoke on the phone, “My guard was able to restrain him. Yes. yes I’m fine as is my daughter and the teen he was attacking. Mmhm.”

She flinched when he scowled and tilted her head up, “scratch that, looks like the teen got a bit hurt, but we’ll treat her. Yes. yes. I’ll leave my guard here.” hanging up he shifted his phone to his pocket before licking his thumb and wiping the blood away. She winced.

“O-Ow don’t! That stings!” she whined as tears pooled in her eyes.

King hissed and went to bite him but stopped when the girl sniffled. He nuzzled her cheek as Arulius let go. 

“Come on.” he pointed towards the black car that pulled around, “let’s go and then I’m calling your parents.”

She gripped her arms and stood firm, “T-Thanks for calling the police b-but you better f-forget you saw me, Mr. Thatcher.” she chuckled nervously, brushing black hair from her face.

“You know who I am?”

“O-Of course I do! Who wouldn’t?! Thatcher tech is my dream job!” she gasped, “I-I was a-at your summer program--” she covered her mouth.

He clicked his tongue, “the one for highschoolers?” he asked. She whined and moved to run but bumped into Florence who huffed.

“Give me your parent’s number.” Arulius sighed.

“I… I don’t…” she chewed her lip. She was quiet.

“Where do you live at least? I’ll drop you off.” he shook his head.

“PARK!” King chirped.

“Hush!” She fretted.

“The park? You live in the park?” Harriet asked as she stood near the teenager’s legs, “That’s not fun!”

“W-well i-I couldn’t stay at m-my apartment…” The teen frowned. She winced when she was pushed towards the car. Whining and trying to deflect she found herself sitting in the back. Harriet crawled in and grinned as Arulius sat in the passenger’s seat.

“No parents. No house. Now I get why a damn kid is running at muggers.” he rubbed his temples with a groan, “name?”

She was quiet.

“I’m not calling you ‘spider king’ name.” he asked a bit firmer.

“S-Solaria…” she mumbled, “K-Kaya Solaria…” she wiped the tears with the back of her gloves, “A-Are you going to turn me in?? I-I don’t mean any harm Mr. Thatcher! I-I promise! I-I normally do fine!!!”

“How old are you?” He opened the window and put a cigarette in his mouth and leaned out as he lit it up. “Under 18 if you were at the company summer program.”

“I… I turned 15 last month…” she admitted ashamed. 

“You’re a few years older than me!” Harriet beamed, “I’m 6!” she grinned.

“I’m more like a decade older…” Kaya chuckled nervously. She looked at the tech company CEO. he had pulled a laptop out and made another annoyed click with his tongue. She winced.

“Your father…. Gabriel Solaria?” he leaned back, “the journalist?”

She nodded.

“Damn shame. He was a decent guy. His stories were interesting.” he flicked through the news reports as Florence got in the driver’s seat.

“Done with the cops?” he asked, “stop by the courthouse.”

“Huh?” she started the engine, “courthouse.”

“P-Please! D-Don’t turn me in! I-I’ll b---”

“I need to grab some adoption papers.” he gave a smirk and looked back at the crying teen, “Since it seems Harriet's getting an older sister. But no more crime fighting.” he shifted to cross his arms and put his feet on the dash. “15… fucking 15. You know what I did at 15??”

“Built a rocket engine that was able to lift a treadmill?” she stated with a small smile.

He blinked and snickered, “okay, yes but I was also just. Going to sch--- do you go to school?”

“I-I’ve been attending school still.” she scratched her cheek, “Um… Subcon Public high…” she sank back in the seat. She jumped when Harriet sat on her and protectively put her arms around the younger girl. She shifted her seat belt around her as well when Florence pulled into traffic.

“Well you’ll have to transfer. Is that an issue?”

She shook her head, “U-Um mr. Thatcher… what… are you planning?” she asked softly.

“Adopting a lost child, and making sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.” he snickered, “Any school you want to attend?”

“I… i you can’t! Y-You just met me!” she gasped in shock, “I-I’m a freak! I’m an accident! I-I have an alien!”

“Meeee” king stated proudly with a cackle.

“Yes but you know what I see? I see a scared kid who’s trying a little too hard.” he scoffed as she stared, “and we’re going to grab adoption papers, then I’m ordering pizza. Any allergies?”

“EAT EVERYTHING,” King laughed.

“Perfect then.” Arulius huffed, “and you can call me Arulius. Since I guess calling me dad off the bat would be weird.” he began to type on his laptop.

She sat there in confusion. She’d simply gone to help someone. And now her idol was adopting her. Her. a mutant spider freak with a parasitic alien.

She reached and pinched her cheek and whined.

Arulius caught this in the rear view and began to cackle loudly.

“Sorry kiddo. You’re awake.”

“B-But why are you just adopting me and not turning me into a lab or something?!” she asked fearfully.

“Dad’s nicer than he looks~!” Harriet giggled, “Can you shoot webs?”

“Mmhm.” Kaya shifted her gloves off and removed the cuff under her sleeve, “its um. An artificial webbing actually, unless King is the one shooting it. He has a gooey webbing.” 

Arulius peeked and reached a hand back. She frowned before handing the cuff to him.

He turned it over in his hands with an impressed whistle, “you construct this?”

She nodded, “I-I like engineering and I figured it’d be useful when king’s tired, i-it’s bio degradable too! But really strong!”

��That's how you swing around right?” Harriet asked with sparkling eyes, “What else can you do?!”

“Well I can walk on walls.” Kaya sighed, “I’m pretty strong too? I can lift a car if I focus. I can move fast?” she frowned, “I’ve never really… tho-- STOP THE CAR!” She gasped.

Florence slammed on the brakes as the truck at the intersection sped by.

“There’s um that. Normally I can semi tell something can happen.” Kaya frowned, “s-sorry for yelling.”

“No, by all means!” Florence laughed, “So. Spider King huh?”

“W-well it’s cuz I’m spider-esque and then King.” she pet the alien who chirped.

“What’s his deal?” Arulius asked but got silence, “alright another day then.” 

Florence parked the car as Arulius got out.

“Wait here,” he stated and Kaya just gave a nod. He threw her web shooter back and she caught it with wide eyes, “You’re grounded from crime fighting until you’re 18, but I won’t take your web shooters.”

“Ah… okay…?” she blinked as he shut the door and headed up. She leaned into the seat and just sat there. Very confused.

“Can I call you big sis? Or kai??” Harriet asked the older girl.

“Oh… um… I guess you can call me whatever….”

“Kaya’s a cute name.” Florence chuckled, “Crime fighting though. What a hobby.”

“I… I just wanted to help people…” she admitted softly, “I have these abilities so I thought I needed to…”

“Can you swing with me when we get home? We have a big tree in the yard!” Harriet giggled, “can you sign my daily bugle of you??”

“I’d rather not…” Kaya chuckled.

“Sleepy.” King huffed.

“Exhausted,” Kaya admitted as she shut her eyes. She barely registered she’d fallen asleep.

After a bit Arulius returned with the needed paperwork. He blinked and smiled as he looked in the back seat. The superhero passed out, his daughter sleeping against her.

Kaya’s arm rested around Harriet, and even King was putting his head on the girl.

“Well, not the oddest thing I’ve ever dealt with.” he spoke softly as Florence started the car once more. He flipped through the papers, “seems people had no idea she was on her own. Thought her uncle had her but turns out he lied and was just taking the financial support.” he grumbled, “there’s some messy hearings but I think I can just. Pay it off.” he looked back and gave a smile, “hey free babysitter.” he snickered.

------

He tapped his foot as he crossed his arms with a huff.

“Kaya.”

She looked away ashamed.

“What did I say?”

“No webbing in the house unless you’re watching.” she mumbled.

“And then why is the house covered in webs?” he asked with a twitch of his eyebrow.

“I-I was just playing with Hattie!” she defended. She huffed and he smirked. She seemed a bit more settled in if she was copping an attitude, “I-I’ll clean it up! I promise Mr. Thatcher!”

“Arulius. I told you, use my first name. You’re my kid now you know.” he sighed and headed inside.

She stepped aside and rubbed her neck, looking at the floor, “I-I can’t just… call you your name… that’s rude…”

“You’re my kid now, it’s weirder if you keep calling me “Mr. Thatcher” I’m not asking you to call me dad but.” he chuckled.

“THOT!” king sang loudly as the teen’s face turned red.

“I-I didn’t teach him that! I swear!”

[snelbz]

Shot to the Heart {Rowaelin AU Fluff}

Tag Team with @tacmc aka the BDavis to myPSawyer.

Once a month, everyone took a night to spend time together, outside of a bar, and just have fun. Oftentimes, that meant a game night at someone’s house, a nice dinner or ice skating, in the winter. But sometimes, they liked to get out and do more fun things. They’d been zip lining, kayaking, played putt putt, you name it. There were times where things got a little competitive between them all, especially when they decided to compete between the sexes.

They were still banned from the Strike & Spare from the last boys and girls night.

So when it was Elide and Lorcan’s turn to choose, they decided to do something a little more conducive to their violent behavior.

“Where exactly are we going?” Aelin asked as she climbed into Rowan’s truck.

He glanced at his watch. “No clue, Lorcan just said to meet at Rita’s at eight.”

“That’s dangerous,” Aelin muttered, but her grin told him that she approved.

He pulled onto the road and began their drive, only the radio playing in the background. He kept trying not to stare, even though she looked beautiful and he wanted to tell her as much. They’d been best friends for years, always teasing that fine line between best friends and so much more.

Their friends constantly teased them about it, as they all began to settle down one by one.

You already spend as much time together as a couple does.

They’d always had reasons not to though. In high school, there was Sam and Lyria, though the four of them were always together. Makes sense that they ended up together, after they both went away to Fennharrow for college. Rowan and Aelin couldn’t be happier for them. The break ups had been amicable and they were going to Fennharrow together for their wedding next Spring.

In college, Aelin had met Chaol and Rowan had Remelle. Chaol was a permanent figure for a while, but Remelle was more of a time to time thing. They’d both been single for a while, but nothing had ever happened. There were many glances and accidental brushes between them, more so when the two of them had a movie night.

Then, the next time they saw one another, they pretended like nothing had happened.

Rowan didn’t mind it, though. He preferred to have Aelin as a best friend then not have her at all. Even if he did make a move one day, he didn’t know how she would take it.

When Rowan pulled into Rita’s, the others were already there, on the patio, drinks on their hands. Aelin was out before he was, hurrying over to throw her arms around Lysandra and Elide. Rowan watched her before grabbing his wallet, his phone, and his keys and joining them there.

Lorcan was watching him suspiciously.

He sat next to him, motioning to their regular server for his regular drink. He looked over and found Lorcan still looking at him.

“What?” He asked.

Lorcan raises his beer to his lips. “This a date?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “No, I offered to drive her because it was on the way and she can’t hold her liquor.”

The two looked up and found the trio of girls tossing back a shot of amber liquid.

Lorcan took his drink, setting the bottle on the table top and crossing his ankle over his knee. “It’s reasonable, as far as your excuses go. Both are valid and make sense.”

Two dark bottles appeared in front of them and their server slipped away like she’d never been there.

“It’s not an excuse,” Rowan muttered, taking a sip from his glass. “It’s a fact.”

“Whatever you say,” Lorcan mumbled, but it was blatantly obvious that he thought Rowan was full of shit. “But when you two get married, Elide has called Maid of Honor.”

It took everything in Rowan’s power not to roll his eyes. “Don’t you two have anything better to talk about when you’re alone?”

“We’ve been together for five years,” Lorcan said, as if it was an appropriate answer. “So...no. We talk about bills, who’s going to do the dishes, and when the hell the two of you are going to fuck.”

Rowan choked on his drink.

“I never thought I’d have to ask this, but please don’t discuss my sex life with your fiancée.”

“Excuse you?”

Rowan and Lorcan looked up and found Elide and Aelin standing at the end of the table.

Rowan stammered but Lorcan laughed quietly.

“Okay,” Aelin said, awkwardly, “Is everyone here?”

Elide sat down next to Lorcan and said, “Fenrys, Asterin, and Manon are meeting us at the...place. Dorian is already there.”

“So, that’s a yes?” Aelin laughed.

“That’s a yes,” Elide confirmed, snuggling up close to Lorcan’s massive frame. “So, let’s get tipsy and go get banned from yet another family-friendly establishment.”

Lorcan snorted and raised his glass.

Rowan raised his glass to Aelin’s and met it with a clink.

“Our friends are ridiculous,” Aelin said, underneath her breath.

“Sometimes I wonder why I keep coming back,” Rowan replied, before chugging half his glass and setting it down on the table. When he met her humored gaze, he was reminded exactly why he kept coming back.

They finished their drinks and Rowan and Aelin packed themselves back up into Rowan’s truck so that they could follow Lorcan and Elide to the surprise location. Aedion and Lysandra stayed to order food and would join them shortly.

“So what conversation did I walk in on back there?” Aelin asked once they were on the way.

Rowan cleared his throat and said, “What conversation?”

Without even looking, he knew she had an eyebrow raised. “Really, Rowan. The conversation about your sex life.”

“Just Lorcan being an asshole,” he said, trying to wave her off the conversation.

Aelin was looking at him, and he was trying so hard not to look back

“I have no sex life,” Rowan blurted, after her silence had gone on a few seconds too long. “Not that I’ve never had sex, or don’t have opportunities to...Gods. Nevermind.”

Aelin was laughing quietly. “Holy shit, you’re flustered.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, gripping the wheel a little bit tighter. “I’m just...very personal.”

“Even with me?” She asked, humored.

Especially with you, he thought. Instead, he said, “Yes.”

Her grin only widened. “When’s the last time you got laid, Ro?”

His cheeks were on fire. His ears were on fire. The back of his neck was on fire. Everything was on fire. He cleared his throat again. “That’s none of your business.”

“Just tell me if it was recent or not,” she turned in her seatbelt to face him.

“No,” he laughed. “I’m not telling you that.”

Aelin said, “Why not, we tell each other everything. I’ll tell you.”

“Please, please don’t,” he blurted.

She lifted a brow, then began to nod, slowly, recognition showing in her eyes. Rowan suddenly felt like an idiot, but then Aelin said, quietly, “It’s been a long ass time, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I don’t- it doesn’t-.” His words broke off as he sighed, and Aelin laughed quietly. “You go get some if you wanna get some… I just…don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“How very kind of you,” Aelin crooned, but he was sure he ruined it all now, was certain she knew that he was full of bullshit.

“As your best friend, that’s my job,” Rowan said, trying to make himself sound convincing.

As he pulled up to a red light, she leaned over and patted his cheek. “And you’ve done a wonderful job.”

Unable to stop himself, he turned and pressed his lips to her palm, locking eyes with her. It was the ballsiest thing he’d ever done and he felt hot and cold all over as he waited for her to react. She swallowed hard, tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip and-.

A horn honked behind them, as the light had been green for longer than two seconds, and Rowan turned his head forward as quickly as Aelin withdrew her arm back to her own side of the cab. He hit the gas and they took off, and Aelin flipped the bird behind them.

“Ace,” he laughed, “you can’t do that. He had every right to honk at me.”

She crossed her arms and sat up a little higher. “Yeah, well he didn’t have to lay on his horn like an asshole. A simple beep beep would have sufficed. Stupid, impatient fucker.”

The truck got quiet for a second and then they both dissolved into laughter, the tension from the moment before fading into near obscurity.

Two minutes later they followed Lorcan’s car into the parking lot of a laser tag facility, and Rowan swore under his breath.

Aelin laughed. “What? You don’t like laser tag?”

“The last time I played laser tag, I was twelve and ate too much shitty pizza,” he muttered, parking and turning off the engine. “Let’s just say they had to stop the game, turn the lights on, and call for the janitor to come in with a mop.”

“Aw,” Aelin said, her grin suggesting that she felt no pity. “Well, it’s a decade later, and you’ve had no shitty pizza. So, get out and let me kick your ass.”

Before Rowan could reply, she was out of the truck and closing the door behind her.

He groaned and laughed quietly as he had a feeling he was in for a hell of a night.

He got out of the truck and slipped his hands in his pockets as he walked over to where everyone was grouping up.

“I want to be up front and say that I feel like the girls cheated,” Rowan said to Lorcan as he leaned against the rail next to him.

“And why is that?” Elide asked, outrage written across her face.

“Because every single one of you are wearing black.” Lorcan tossed a pointed glance at his fiancée.

Elide held up her hands. “I said nothing.”

Manon’s man-eating grin said otherwise.

Rowan looked down at his light gray t-shirt. At least it wouldn’t glow when they got inside, unlike Dorian’s pure white v-neck.

“If Aedion and Lys don’t get here soon, we’re starting without them,” Manon announced, already growing impatient.

“Agreed,” Lorcan said.

They waited thirty more seconds before the impatience grew unbearable, then their group of eight was walking in.

Girls vs. boys.

Rowan was unprepared. He needed another drink.

Thankfully, it seemed Lorcan was in agreement because the first place he went was to the snack bar and ordered two pitchers of beer. Rowan reached for one of the glasses but Lorcan pulled them back.

“Nope, these are part of the game.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow as Elide began to explain the rules.

For the most part, it was the regular run of the laser tag - hit your opponents’ targets with your point-and-shoot laser pointer and get the most points for your team. There was one caveat though.

“Both pitchers have to be empty by the end of the round,” Lorcan announced. “If your team doesn’t finish your pitcher, you automatically lose.”

“It doesn’t have to be drunk equally. If Aelin doesn’t feel like drinking,” Lorcan mumbled Like that would ever happen, and Aelin glared at him, “she doesn’t have to drink. Just as long as its empty at the end.”

They all voiced their agreement, put on their vests and gathered their guns, then they were tossed into the room.

Rowan was met with darkness and neon, glowing lights as he hurried into a tower. It was his go to. Get to the highest point, and see everyone. Then he paused, as he noticed a lock of his hair falling down in front of his face.

He had silver hair, in a room full of blacklights.

He was instantly a target.

After cursing his hair, he was on the move. He spotted Manon from the other side of the room, took aim, and hit her target.

She yelled a curse at him before he was moving, once more.

He headed for the predetermined boys base, and filled a cup with beer. It seemed he was the first to do so, but Fenrys soon jogged up, muttering about how it was unfair for a marksman like Manon to even be playing this game. His chest target was lit up red and he had a good ten seconds left before he could get back in the game. He saw Rowan and said, “That your first?”

He nodded and began drinking. “Drink two every time we stop?”

Fen nodded. “Quickest way to kill it.”

They both took a minute to chug before Rowan asked, “Seen Aelin?”

Fenrys shook his head. “She’s got a good spot, I’m sure. She has the mind for these things. Strategic.”

Rowan agreed. She was that.

After setting his plastic cup down, Rowan was back on the move.

He crept around a few different corners before he caught sight of her golden ponytail. He followed her, slowly, fully aware that he didn’t have the same graceful, quiet movements that she did. He knew there was straightaway up ahead and if he could stay back long enough, he could get a clean shot on her as she fled to the other side.

He crept along the final corner, pausing to peek behind him-.

He felt a hand on his chest and looked back to find Aelin gazing up at him. He didn’t even fumble for his gun as she pushed slightly and he backed up a few steps. His back hit the wall with a quiet thump and Aelin said, quietly, “Would you like to do what you did in the truck one more time?”

He hesitated, unsure if he was understanding her correctly. She took his bewildered look as acceptance, though, because her smile softened as she leaned up on her toes and pulled his face closer to hers with her hand on the back of his head.

Their lips met softly in the middle, once, twice, slowly, gently.

She tasted bitterly sweet, her peach chapstick mixed with the tequila shots she had earlier and the beer she was downing now. Rowan wanted the moment to last forever, but it was soon broken as Aelin leaned back, her eyes bright.

He smiled and leaned down, wanting to capture her lips against his one more time, closing his eyes.

There was a loud buzzing and then his best began to vibrate. His eyes shot open and Aelin was running away, a devilish glint in her eyes.

He blinked, watching her run away.

She had shot him.

She had kissed him.

Then she had shot him.

He stood, completely frozen, utterly dumbfounded.

Lorcan came around the corner, saw that he’d been shot, and shook his head. “You suck at this, Whitethorn.”

Rowan couldn’t even remember how to form words for a sarcastic reply. Instead, he just turned and walked back toward the pitcher of beer, where he downed two more glasses before deciding to hunt Aelin down as the alcohol warmed his body.

He knew the girls couldn’t be as close to finishing as they were, especially seeing Dorian heading back to their base with maybe one full cup and a half left in their pitcher. Rowan successfully snuck around to where the girls had named their base and found a perfect wall to crouch behind and lie in wait. The pitcher was directly in his line of sight, and it was still over half full.

Elide ran right past his hiding place without noticing him and he knew he could get a free shot out of it, but he’d give away his position. So he waited and he bided his time.

Rowan had just begun scoping out the alley behind his when a flash of white to his left distracted him. Manon ran by putting the pitcher directly to her lips and drinking. His eyebrows raised as she took down a sizable amount of their beer at once, but Aelin appeared beside her. They spoke animatedly and Aelin laughed as Manon ran back down the middle lane, hunting for another victim.

Holding his breath, he threw the empty plastic cup he’d been holding down the empty alley beside him.

Aelin heard it immediately, turning and staring in his direction. He was obscured by the half wall and as soon as she crept by, her gun aimed down the alley, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, pinning it - and her gun - to the wall.

Her eyes were bright with excitement and he couldn’t stop his gaze from dipping down and watching intently as she bit her bottom lip.

He didn’t know why his voice had dropped so low, why it sounded like he’d been gargling nails, but he leaned down by her ear and breathed, “Was that just so you could distract me?”

He was almost worried for her reply, but then she asked, “Is this just so you can distract me?”

He glanced down, not even realizing he’d been using his body to press her into the wall, hadn’t realized how close their faces had gotten.

He shook his head, slowly, the tip of his nose brushing hers ever so lightly.

Aelin sucked in a breath as she whispered, ���Good.”

He kissed her then, much harder than she had kissed him. He slowly dropped her arms that were pinned to the wall, only so he could drop his gun and cup her face. Those delicate, steady arms of hers wrapped around his waist and she held his body close up against hers.

Aelin brushed her tongue along the seam of Rowan’s lips, asking permission, not just taking as she’d done before. But there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman, nothing he wouldn’t give to her if it was in his power. He opened for her and let his tongue brush against hers softly. She groaned quietly.

Rowan pulled back, catching his breath, and rested his forehead against hers. He took the moment to gaze at her in the darkness. She was the most beautiful damn thing he’d ever seen.

She breathed, “I’ve wanted to do that for a really, really long time.”

“Me too,” he whispered, laughing quietly. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as he kissed her, once again, damning the game and forgetting about their friends.

For a moment, it was just the two of them, and that was all he cared about.

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (kmart’s haunted)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company. (part 2) - Missouri 1     (part 3)

Warnings: swearing, very light spooky?

Word Count: 2245

A/N: so we’ve established that Doux wasn’t the one who burnt the bookstore, but they don’t know that. look, have you been in a Kmart recently? its apocalyptic. also, you know that post about people repeating their default work greetings by accident? yeah

“Do you want me to split the bill or?” The waitress asked, not sure if the group at the table was a young couple and their child or just three college kids hanging out. It was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, that one kid was so small, wearing a little deer costume, and had been helped to order. The other two radiated the energy of an old married couple and talked mainly to each other. But on the other hand, college kids are just like that sometimes.

“Nah, I got it.”

“What? No. I’m paying for us.” Douxie insisted.

“I have the cash, Doux.” (Name) turned to the waitress. She put some honey in her voice. “Just bring us one bill, please.” The waitress nodded nervously before heading off.

“No. I don’t want you paying for too many things while we’re traveling. You’re unemployed.”

“And who’s fault is that Mr. Mephits-Are-Vulnerable-To-Fire? You fucking burned down the store and put us both out of work here.” Nari was squirming at the negative vibes going on. It helped that she didn’t exactly understand what was going on.

“It was magic fire!” Douxie interjected in outrage. He looked so cute when he got defensive.

“Yeah, okay, sure.” (Name) shook her head, looking up to the ceiling. She let out a huff, “look, I invited myself onto this trip, Douxie. I want to pull my own weight. You’re going to have to let me pay for something eventually.”

“We’ll see about that, Love,” he said as he grabbed the ticket from the waitress’s hands as quick as lightning, tucked his card in and gave it right back before (Name) could further protest.

“Ugh! FINE! Then I’m getting the tip.” She pulled out a tenner and slapped it onto the table. She glared right back into Douxie’s hazel eyes. He glared right back into hers with a matched intensity. Nari looked back and forth between the two and whimpered. (Name) broke the standoff to assure Nari that they weren’t actually angry at each other so she shouldn’t be worried. That seemed to ease the forest child a bit but not by too much. She could still feel the weird aura they were putting off.

“Okay! So here’s your check back and here’s that lox bagel you ordered to go.” The waitress handed (Name) a doggy bag.

(Name) took the bag gingerly. A big fake smile spread across her face as she was momentarily possessed by that good spirit of customer service. “Thank you! I hope your experience was spellbinding! Have a magical day!” (Name) said on autopilot in that high-pitched voice and winked exaggeratedly. It was like she was an NPC and her talk button had been accidentally pushed. The waitress laughed forcibly and scurried away to the kitchen. Douxie cracked up.

“You do know that when I told you to say all that stuff after ringing people up, I was hazing you, right?”

“Oh yes, I am completely aware, Doux. Did you think I’d not pick up on how ridiculous that sounds? But I still say it to spite you.”

He shook his head. “Of course.”

***

Archie scarfed down his bagel sandwich with almost disturbing speed. It was like watching the void consume, well, a bagel sandwich. It just disappeared. Down his furry maw and out of existence. Being a dragon works up an appetite, after all. (Name) was a bit baffled and asked him if she should go get him another bagel. He assured her that the one was just fine and said something about trying to catch some birds later. She leaned back on her elbows against the boat’s railing, trying and failing to not think about the details of that.

Douxie cleared his throat. “So,” He folded his hands together for emphasis, “Since the subject of money came up earlier, I think we should also discuss the topic of our accommodations.”

“Well, you two obviously cannot afford lodging every night.” Archie snarked, flicking his tail.

“Thank you, for that, Arch. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a tent.”

“A tent?” the cat asked incredulously.

“Oh, that could work.” (Name) pointed at Douxie animatedly, “keep us close to nature for Nari. And also could keep our possible property damage bills down. Good idea, Doux.”

“Thank you,” Douxie puffed up, “see Arch? Someone appreciates my ideas-”

“Wait. That’ll be a short-term solution. We’re just barely into September. It’s going to be much, much colder in about a month. By October it’ll be too cold to bear. Even if we all huddle together like penguins.”

Doux looked away to hide his blush at the suggestion. “That is a problem. Okay, um-”

“Maybe we could just cross that bridge when we get there? Who knows what could happen between now and then. We could find so temp work in a little town somewhere.” (Name) shrugged, smirking at Doux. She didn’t want to admit that ‘we could be dead by then’ was also definitely a possibility on the table, so she tried to further distract from that thought. “Maybe we’ll find a creepy abandoned cabin in the woods we can squat in. Maybe some nice trolls will take us in as novelty pets. Maybe my rich Aunty Josie could just suddenly die under some ‘mysterious circumstances’ and leave her lavish fortune to her beloved niece,” she smirked at Doux, “I dunno, just spit ballin’ here.”

“I’m electing to ignore that you just suggested we ice your aunt because you were onto something there.”

“I was?” Her tone was a mixture of sarcasm and disbelief.

“Yes! New Jersey!

“New Jersey?” The wheels turned. “Oh! New Jersey!”

Nari looked confused. “What is special about this ‘New Jersey’?” she asked

Both Douxie and (Name) turned to her, “Trolls.” They said in sync.

***

(Name) stood there with her hands in her pockets. Somehow this Kmart was still standing, out here in The-Middle-Of-Fucking-Nowhere, Missouri. She was standing here, in a Kmart. It might as well have been 1986. There was barely anything on the shelves. Half the shelves themselves were missing. The floor had a layer of grime to it, in spite of the wet floor sign along with the shiny patches that said that it had clearly been mopped recently. The air smelled like something (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nostalgic. A strange scent that took her back to her childhood. Or at least she thought it was her childhood. It had to have been. Taking deep breaths, she couldn’t quite get enough of it.

Continuing that vibe, a muzak 80’s tune played over the speakers. Funny enough, despite (Name)’s brain seeming to recognize that it was playing a song from the 80’s, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it as to which. Every time she thought she’d figured it out, she’d hear a few notes that would somehow change her mind. It was a pop song at least, to narrow it down. It’d been going on for about six minutes now. Must be one of those extended tracks.

She’d ask Douxie what he thought the song was. She turned her attention to him and noticed he was still just staring at that same shelf like he had been for, what, ten minutes now? Even though this fucking Kmart barely had any shelving in it, by some miracle it not only had exactly what they were looking for but an entire aisle of them. How lucky was that.

Douxie was taking very careful consideration into this tent purchase. This was going to be their new home, after all. He just couldn’t decide which one was best. They all had fancy camping terms on the packages that meant nothing to him. He’d been trying to decipher the code. The secret outdoorsman code. Nari shifted uncomfortably in the basket.

“Hisirdoux, you should maybe, hurry this along?” She sounded strained.

But she was right. He should just pick one already. It’s all a gamble anyway. He decided on a dark green one that boasted a water-proof material. Good natural color, not easily spotted, and it wouldn’t soak through with rain. That should work well enough, he figured.

“I’ve hurried along. Sorry Nari.” He casually tossed the box into the cart next to her. She sniffed the box and nodded to him.

Now that they had their goal item, the quest party started for the checkouts. Douxie could have sworn that it had been on the side of the store they were in. They had passed it when they came in. Now it was completely across by the other door. Did he get turned around? Or maybe they did come in from that side of the store. He actually couldn’t remember.

As they walked, a few things caught (Name)’s eye. They passed a display of dark leafy plants in oddly shaped pots, a table stacked high with various books and a clearance sign, a knife case that had been left open, a candle display with a few that had already been lit and were dripping wax, a bargain bin of CDs, and lastly a sad box of no-longer-in-season pool noodles. There was a sale on bloodmeal apparently. Perfect for perking up those roses after the summer heat.

They arrived at the checkout after what felt like an endless journey. (Name) hadn’t noticed any other customers the entire time they had been there, and yet the line for the only check open had seven people in it. She grabbed a couple bags of red licorice from the impulse shelf to add to their cart while waiting.

Nari was really interested in that checker. (Name) took her in. The teen was taller than most and had very, very long blonde hair that cascaded down her back like a shiny golden waterfall. Her cheeks were slightly sunken in. Must be going through a diet phase. Poor girl.

The young woman was obviously not one for small talk. Name couldn’t blame her. Retail sucks. Her perfect red fingernails clicked against the keys of the register in a practiced beat. She turned around and told them their total in a bored monotone. As Douxie fiddled with his wallet and payed, (Name) found herself staring right into the cashier’s eyes. They were such a light icy blue, they were almost white. It was striking. (Name) was almost in a trance. It was broken as the cashier turned around swiftly to rip off the receipt off the machine, and, in an uncharacteristically cheery voice, told them to have a nice night. Night?

They returned the cart back to the stack, grabbing their one singular shopping bag and helping Nari out. Of course Nari could easily just jump out herself, but that wouldn’t be something a human child could do. They didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves here. They made their way to the automatic sliding doors that lagged so that they didn’t open until you were standing right in front of them. This allowed Douxie time to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the glass. The reflection of the store was completely devoid of people. Not even the checker was at her station. He sucked in a breath. After walking through those first doors, he stopped. He took a moment to turn back. There she was, right where she should be, checking out another customer with three more in the line.

Douxie hurried along the doorway to catch up to (Name) and Nari. It was darker outside than he expected, and he was taken aback. He found them right outside the store, waiting for him. In one hand, (Name) was holding Nari’s, in the other, the plastic shopping bag. Her head was tipped up to the sky, transfixed by the moon. He came over, grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her along, in an attempt to urge her away from this place. She looked back at him, eyes wide with distress. He tried to convey that he understood with his eyes. All three of them instinctually knew not to say anything more why they were still in this parking lot.

It had barely been half past noon when they had started this little Kmart side quest. It was now at least seven by the looks of it. They had spent six and a half hours in a Kmart? How had they spent six and a half hours in a Kmart. There went their entire travel day. But no time to dwell on this, they needed to get back to Archie and the boat as soon as possible.

As they walked back towards the ship, (Name) and Douxie both took one of Nari’s hands so that she was in the middle, like how those couples walk with their children. The streetlights glared up at them in the slick pavement. Apparently, it had rained while they were in shopping limbo. Poor Arch. (Name) let out a puff of air.

“Well. That sure was something.”

Douxie nervously chuckled, “If we had stayed in there any longer, I think we might have died.” (Name) mirrored that nervous chuckle.

“Oh, no, dying would be much simpler than what would have happened to us.” Nari said sweetly, like what she was saying was somehow better. Nari liked being helpful. (Name) put on her best fake smile.

“Thank you, Nari.” She tried her best to sound as sincere as possible to spare the veggie lady’s feelings.

[loversamongus]

Coffee, Chills, and Closeness | modern!Zuko x reader

a/n: I was really happy with the way Friends, Fevers, and Family Movies came out so I decided to write a sequel to it in which you now have to take care of a sick, grumpy, little Zuko. I just really love good ol’ fluff.

warnings: characters sick with the flu; some language

words: 2.2k

After a few more days of bed rest and bowls of Katara’s special flu season homemade soup, you were starting to feel much better. The color reappeared in your face, the bounce returned to your step, and clarity chased out the dizziness in your head. Your best friends noticed your change in health and mood almost immediately.

“Must be my soup,” Katara said as you bounced past her in the kitchen to reach your cereal. You couldn’t help but question a knowing look in her eye. You raised an eyebrow in response.

“Or maybe just some good nights of sleep,” she continued. “You’ve had a smile plastered on your sleepy face for a couple nights now.”

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you’ve been watching me sleep and eat my breakfast now, if you don’t mind.”

But what Katara said couldn’t be completely ignored, no. You don’t often remember your dreams, but recently you’ve been able to remember one recurring image that has appeared in your subconscious for the last few nights in a row. A certain shaggy haired, golden eyed someone kissing your forehead, just the remembrance of the sensation is enough to give you the chills again. Of course, there were cowboy dolls and astronaut action figures dancing in the background so the mushiness of the dream didn’t last too long.

It’s funny how the nostalgia of your childhood could wiggle its way into any dream, conversation, or movie night decision. You didn’t have a particularly cushy childhood but it was stable enough compared to your friends. While little you sat on the floor of your living room rewatching The Lion King for the umpteenth time, Sokka and Katara were mourning the loss of their mother, Aang was shouldering enormous responsibility that isolated him from his grammar school friends, Toph was being sheltered and completely restricted from most activities by her parents, and Zuko. Well Zuko hasn’t shared much about his childhood with you but the parts he did definitely weren’t filled with faith, trust, and pixie dust.

Your thoughtful reminiscing was quickly interrupted by Sokka barging through the front door, carrying three cups of Jasmine Dragon tea. While handing one cup to his sister and one cup to you, a devilish smirk grew on his face.

“You got your boyfriend sick.”

“My what?”

“You heard me. Iroh told me he came in for his shift all wheezing and hacking and snivelly and had to send him home. Sounds a lot like someone I know.”

“I- Sokka, Zuko isn’t my boyfriend. “

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m not the funniest, sexiest, strongest, most talented man on the planet.”

You heard Katara nearly choke on her orange juice and you reached to pat her on the back before grabbing your wallet and house keys.

“Okay well, I don’t have time to unpack all of that with you. I have to get to the diner.”

At this point, Sokka had already made his bowl of cereal and with a very full mouth, he seemed to be talking to his spoon more so than you. “That’s because you know it’s Zuko.”

“What?”

“I said tell Suki I love her!”

With a roll of your eyes, you headed out the door. For a few moments, you grumbled to yourself over the annoyance of Sokka’s teasing. But very quickly into your walk to the diner, a wave of guilt rushed over you. Zuko is sick with the flu. You knew you shouldn’t have snuggled up to him or cried on his shoulder while watching Toy Story 2!

“Okay but it’s not all my fault. He’s the one that kissed me on my feverish forehead. That was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself.

Once at the diner, you headed to the workroom to get your apron but before starting the breakfast shift, you took out your phone to send a quick text.

hey heard you were sick :( how ya doing?

Not a minute goes by before you get a response.

Uncle exaggerates. I’m completely fine.

Letting out a sigh, you wonder how you could have met anyone as stubborn as you. The small smile forming on your lips is quickly erased by the sound of your manager calling for you to get on the floor. Your sick friend would have to wait.

The morning shift started out the same as it always had, and you were grateful for the routine after being out sick for the past week. A couple of the regulars welcomed you back with warm smiles and kind tips, while you still made sure to avoid small talk with some of the other diner patrons. Seriously, what was up with that cabbage obsessed man? The morning hours seemed to fly by with ease. Just as you were refilling a coffee pot, however, your calm routine was shattered when you noticed a very pale, black-haired man slouched over one of your tables.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper-yelled at him before passing his table to refill one of your other table’s coffee mugs.

“Getting some breakfast,” he whispered back, propping his droopy head up on his hand.

“Well it’s almost lunch now, you idiot.”

“Getting some brunch then.” A dopey smile appeared on his face but you could see in his eyes that he must not have slept well last night.

“Zuko,” you said, almost scolding. “You shouldn’t be here. You have the flu.”

“I do not. I’m just tired. Can I have some coffee, please?”

“If you’re just tired, why do you sound all congested?” you asked as you poured some coffee for him.

“Allergies,” he replied simply but unconvincingly.

“Oh my god, Zuko,” you began to raise your voice but immediately regretted it when you saw your friend raise his hands to his head. A migraine no doubt, the memory of those still fresh in your head from your own bout with the flu. Lowering your voice, you spoke to him again.

“Why did you come here when you’re sick?”

“It’s Tuesday. I always come in for breakfast on Tuesdays to see you.”

Goddamnit. After being out for a week, you completely lost track of what day it was. Also goddamnit again. Zuko really dragged himself out just to keep up this little ritual even though he looks AWFUL. Okay, not completely awful because somehow even when he’s sick, the way he looks at you could give you chills and suddenly you’re remembering that forehead kiss again and--

“Excuse me, miss? Can I get some more orange juice?”

“Yes, of course. One moment please,” you snap out of your thoughts and reply to your waiting tables.

Before going over to satisfy your customer’s request, however, you turn back to Zuko with a gentle smile. “I’ll bring you some toast and some fruit. I’m sure that’s all you’ll be able to keep down anyways.”

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to fill Zuko’s order and once it was complete, you headed back over to his direction. You had to stop right in your tracks for a moment though and take in the picture before you. In the booth sat a sleepy little Zuko still perched up on his hand but his eyes have fluttered shut. Noiselessly, you place down his plate of toast and fruit in front of him and gently nudge his shoulder to wake him up.

“Hey, sleepyhead. Eat as much as you can. I’ve got one more table to take care of before my shift ends. Then you can drive me home. If you can stay awake, that is.”

“Mmmmmm thanks,” he muttered into his hand. 

You left him to pick at his food while you finished up with your last table. When you returned to Zuko about twenty minutes later, you jokingly congratulated him on eating half of his toast and a couple pieces of cantaloupe-- probably more than you had eaten when you had the flu yourself. As you started taking away his plate, you caught Zuko reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet. Knowing what little you actually served him, you stopped him before he could take out more bills than was necessary.

“No, stop. We talked about this. I don’t take tips from friends.”

“It’s only fair and it’s the right thing to do.”

“No. You took care of me when I was sick, that covers it fine.”

“How ‘bout another tip? You should wear your hair up more often. It looks nice like that.”

“Here’s one for you. You’re delirious. Give me your keys, I’m driving.”

With that, your shift was over and you were gathering your things to go home. Zuko did manage to put up a little bit of a fight over letting you drive but once you shot him your “I’m serious, mister” look, he finally gave in. It was a short drive back home but you couldn’t help but glance over at your passenger every now and again. It was rare to see Zuko in such a state as he is always the put-together one in the friend group. That wave of guilt rushes over you again since you were the one that got him sick in the first place.

“No, it was the forehead kiss. His own fault,” you mumble to yourself.

“What?”

“NOTHING. Uh, Katara still has some leftover soup. Why don’t you come up and have some? OH! And we can finish Toy Story 2 since someone didn’t let me finish it last time.”

“I’ll come for the soup but not for the movie.”

“ZUKO. I was cured by the nostalgic joy of my childhood, it can cure you, too!!”

“I don’t have any ‘nostalgic joy from my childhood’ in case you forgot. My mother left, my father scarred my face, and my sister hates me.”

Thankful you had come to a red light, you looked over to Zuko with concern. But he did not look back. His head was leaning on the window and with his arms folded, he avoided your gaze and continued to stare out the window.

“Well, all the more reason to finish the movie,” you tried to say lightheartedly, but the rest of the drive was silent.

Once you’ve reached the apartment, you ordered Zuko to make himself comfy on the couch while you threw some soup in the microwave. You spy a note on the kitchen counter from Katara explaining that she’s out to lunch with Aang and Sokka went to the gym with Suki. You smiled, happy that you could avoid good-natured sibling teasing for the time being. When the soup was ready, you turned to find Zuko sitting on the couch under a pile of blankets and holding the remote for the DVD player.

“I thought you didn’t want to finish the movie,” you questioned, handing him the bowl of soup.

“But you do.”

Your grinned ecstatically, quickly moving to sit next to him on the couch.

“You shouldn’t get too close. You’ll get sick again.”

“I’m immune now, it’s fine,” you said as you reached to share one of his blankets.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works. At all,” he replied, but his protests ended there as the movie started back up.

As you were getting yourself comfortable on the couch, your arm grazed Zuko’s and your body shook, chilled from the cold skin. Zuko noticed immediately and looked over at you questioningly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, you’re just cold. Eat your soup, it’ll warm you up.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Um, I had to take those pills when you watched me so the least you can do is eat some soup.”

With a small smirk, Zuko obliged and ate a few spoonfuls of soup before laying back against the couch. You cuddled up closer to him, figuring if the soup doesn’t warm him up, you definitely could. Once you rested your head on his shoulder, his head gently tilted to rest on yours, a much familiar scene from the time you were sick. Although the roles have been reversed this time around, the warmth of happiness bursting through your chest from this closeness is unchanged. You felt his left arm wrap around you before settling at your waist, and you reach up with your right hand to hold onto his. Sure, Toy Story 2 isn’t a romantic movie by any means, but it makes you happy. Just like Zuko does.

The movie ends with Wheezy singing his rendition of “You’ve Got a Friend in Me” and you looked up at Zuko as if to say, “See? I told you Wheezy comes back. I love this part,” but he’s already asleep. It seems like you’ll never be able to get him to watch the whole movie, but you sighed contently anyways. Then, in a fit of sudden boldness, you sat up to inch closer to Zuko and kiss his cheek softly. 

He stirred and looked at you through drowsy, half-closed eyes.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “I can’t kiss you back properly while I’m sick.”

You smiled and leaned in closer.

“I’ll settle for a forehead kiss for now.”

“Deal.” After giving to you what you asked for, he gazed admiringly at you for a few moments before falling back to sleep. You could have sworn he had a dopey grin on his face, too, and you wondered if this is what Katara saw on you the past few nights. You settle back against Zuko’s chest and let his breathing lull you to sleep. The two of you fell into such a deep sleep, while in each other’s arms, that not even the sound of Katara and Sokka double hi-fiving after spotting you both on the couch woke you up.

[i-write-newsies]

(A/N): I decided to do some really simple and classic fluff after all the stuff in the last Oneshot. Hopefully, this one won't take me a literal MONTH. Hope y'all like it!! <33

AUs:

- Modern

- Coffee Shop

- College

Jack POV:

Jack is a hopeless romantic. A hidden one for the most part, but a hopeless romantic nonetheless.

Truth be told, he's never been in too many relationships, at least not ones that lasted long. He's liked a few girls before, boys too, and even dated a few. But they lasted 3 months, tops. His record for the quickest breakup was after 5 hours when the person found another person to dote on.

Despite bad experiences like that, Jack remains infatuated with love and the idea of soulmates. He listens to romantic songs on repeat, would always be ready to lend you a romcom, and daydreams about perfect dates with some fill-in-the-blank person when he's supposed to be studying Art History.

But lately, that blank template has been gaining more qualities of a certain boy from school. A certain boy with dark brown curly hair, with an adorable hooked nose, with olive-green eyes and a shy smile.

The moment his mind finally puts the pieces of the person together, he shoots up from laying down in his bed. He quickly pauses the music and struggles to unlock his phone out of a mix of confusion and excitement.

He scrolls through his contacts to the K section, clicking on Katherine's contact and pressing the facetime button. "Pick up, Kath..." he nervously mutters.

Suddenly, her face appears on the screen, "Hey, Jack! What's up?" she then notices the half vacant, half nervous expression his face is showing.

"You doin' okay?" Kath asks, brows furrowed.

"Huh? Yeah! I uhhhh..." Kath waits patiently, knowing his ADHD makes him lose his train of thought all too easily.

"Right! So, you're the only one who knows about me bein' kind of a hopeless romantic..." Jack looks down slightly, and Katherine giggles, knowing his embarrassment around loving love.

"What? Does big ole Jack Kelly have a crush?"

"I don't know!" he gives an exasperated sigh, "Maybe!"

"Okay, okay, calm down cowboy. Now which lucky person has caught your eye this time?" Jack mutters something incoherent below his breath. "What? I can't hear ya."

"Davey Jacobs."

Davey POV:

Davey sighs, taking a look at his computer.

A 2000 word essay on a topic of his choice for History due in 1 month. He knows how much time he has to finish this, and he knows that he could wait until a week until it's due to start it and still finish it on time perfectly, but no matter the assignment, there would always be a thought gnawing at the back of his brain telling him he NEEDS to get it done right now. And so he does. But he knows he needs coffee to do so.

Davey carefully slips his computer into his crammed backpack, as well as his wallet. He plans on going to his favorite cafe. The coffee there tastes like shit (though he would never admit it), but he knows the staff, and some of the baristas even attend his school. There was one that stood out to him, a certain Jack Kelly

Davey isn't sure what's so interesting about the creative student. It could be his heavy 'Hatten accent, or maybe it's his enthusiastic puppy dog energy about anything. It's kind of... adorable, I guess. He looks down at the ground while walking, trying his best to hide his red face. Davey doesn't swear much, but fuuuuuck.

He likes Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly of all people. The guy who accidentally SHARPENED HIS FINGER IN A PENCIL SHARPENER ONCE. Davey sighs, Jack may be an idiot, but no one can deny that it's charming in a way. He has tons of golden retriever energy.

Davey doesn't know what to do.

He sits down in a corner booth to avoid as much human contact as possible. He opens up his laptop and opens the tabs needed for his project. He slips on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and attempts to block out the thoughts of Jack Kelly. The essay is number one priority right now. Suddenly, Davey sees a looming figure out of the corner of his eye. He snaps his neck up to see...

Oh no.

Fudge.

"What can I get for ya, darlin'"

Jack POV:

Davey's face heats up. I don't really consider this a win, considering that's the way most people react when I call them darling. What can I say? It's a habit of mine.

"U-uhm..maybe-" he stutters quietly.

I speak up to help him out a bit, "I've seen you here before. You always order the hot chocolate with 2 pumps of espresso, right?" He squeaks out a yes.

"Comin right up, doll" his face lights up a bright red again.

Shit. Did I mess it up? Is he uncomfortable with those terms? I come from southern roots, which has pros and cons. The pros are: I'm really resilient, my tea is sweetened to PERFECTION, and I can smell when it's going to rain. Cons: The situation that just unfolded.

As I enter the kitchen area, I sigh. I come on way too strong. I quickly make Davey's order, after all, I did memorize it. I look at the plain hot chocolate. Needs a little something. He seems like the spicy sweet kinda guy, so I carefully add a good amount of whipped cream, and sprinkle some cinnamon on top. I really shouldn't be bringing favoritism into my work, but Dave should be an exception.

Being careful not to spill my masterpiece built out of hot chocolate and whipped cream, I bring it to Davey, who seems very deep in thought, staring at his computer. Trying not to disturb him, I set the drink gently down, then I lift one of his headphones.

"Whatcha doin' Dave?"

He jumps, turning red once AGAIN. "Jesus Christ, bud, got some sorta skin reddening condition?"

"Wh- I- You-" He sputters before regaining his composure, "One, none of your business, two, none of your business."

I feign a wound and put my hand over my chest, "Davey Jacobs! So rude!" I put my arm over my forehead and sigh dramatically, then sneak a peek at him. He's laughing a little. I grin, so he doesn't hate me! Whew!

A few hours,10 drink orders and slightly too loud joking and laughing later, Davey's still here, working on some big project. At this point I've stopped charging him and have just been paying for them myself. I make my way to his table once more.

I notice his cup is empty, "Refill?" I ask, he nods. That's when I notice the bags under his red eyes. I walk back a bit and lean on his table. "You need to sleep, Dave." He shakes his head as a response and I sigh.

I make my way to the kitchen and decide to not add caffeine in this. He needs it. My hands go on autopilot as I start to think about him. He's just so... pretty.

I bite my lip. Should I...? Ah, fuck it, I'm almost done with my shift. I grab a scrap of paper and a pen and scrawl my number, with the message

'Call me ;P'

Beside it. I take a deep breath and carefully balance the cup all the way to Davey's corner booth. The sight is adorable. Davey is laying down on the table, asleep, head tilted to one side, face illuminated by the computer screen. I smile gently.

All I think about for the rest of the night is that sight. As I sit in bed, drawing the scene, I hear a ding from my phone. I open texts and see from an unknown number:

Hey, Jack?

It's Davey.

The student from the coffee shop.

I grin.

Hey Dave :P

I quickly change his contact to <3 Dave <3 with my recent drawing of him as the profile picture.

Before I know it, we're talking about everything. It's honestly so much easier texting than actually interacting with people. My brain decides to peace out for a long minute, and my hands automatically do the typing. Bad decision. Why? Because I barely even notice when I hit send.

Do you wanna go on a date with me? I was thinking about getting froyo, and maybe watching a cheesy romcom. Whaddya say, Dave?

I can only watch, petrified, as I see...

<3 Dave <3 is typing...

~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~

(A/N):

Hope y'all like this! Pt. 2 will be their date!! btw no one has really interacted or requested fanfics, so if you could vote for this or request something, that would really make me happy.

~ Race

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟒

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟖𝟕𝟐

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟒:

Yuki tapped on the chalkboard as most of the classroom swooned over his appearance. You stood by his side since you were the vice representative of the class, only a few points behind Yuki. You wanted to yawn as he asked the classroom for suggestions. Tohru waved at you from across the classroom when you both made eye contact, you gave her a small smile to acknowledge her wave.

The other girls in the class were insistent on creating some sort of maid-butler service cafe, to which Yuki had to write down on the board despite his protests. Tohru raised her hand to suggest selling onigiris, causing some of the girls to openly mock her. Your eyebrow twitched and before Yuki could say anything, you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Quit your god damn yapping.” You snarled at them, causing all of them to flinch at your cold voice, “unless you have something other than a Sohma advertisement, you’re better off keeping your mouth shut.”

“S-She has spoken!” While Yuki has his fair of fangirls in the school, you were yet again a close second with the boys. You sighed as Yuki only sweatdropped at the number of boys commenting about you. You almost forgot you even had any sort of followers considering how unlikable you thought you were.

Although you were unsure of how you felt about the behavior of them, you found that they were much more tolerable than the other girls who swooned over Yuki. If you asked the boys what they liked about you, they might just rant about your academic achievements and appearance. But, admiration stops here. Many of them choose to respect your own privacy and dare not to overstep their boundaries, it was a simple crush and nothing more. However, you had to say that you were glad that the boys had more dignity than the fan girls. 

“Selling onigiris would be good, it’s easy to make a variety and eat.” You turned to Yuki, slightly motioning to confirm Tohru’s ideas.

“An Onigiri Battle Royale!” Kyo shouted. “Winner will get the onigiri after a bloody battle.”

“No one will be conducting violence here.” You easily shut him down, causing him to sulk in his chair.

One of your female classmates stood up from her chair, “since we are going with the onigiri idea,” You could even hear the girl’s distaste in her voice, “we’re going to need an advertisement obviously!”

“An advertisement. . . ?” You mumbled, you assumed she is going to beg Yuki into doing something uncomfortable. You wanted to openly frown at her next suggestion but you remained straight-faced. 

“We want Yuki to dress up with this dress we recently bought!”

I knew it! You thought, sweating bullets as you turned to Yuki who was already growing pale. You started to feel extremely bad having the boy next you being forced into gender-opposite clothes. 

“Then, (L/n)-san should wear an apron too!”

“No! She should wear a princely outfit! Look at her cold stare within those (e/c) eyes! So fitting!” Someone argued.

“What if she is also a princess?! Two princesses!” 

“Since they’re both representing our class, they should wear something matching!” The blond-haired student called out. You believe her name was Uotani, she seemed to be quite close to Tohru as they hung out together a lot during school.

“Yuki-kun is already going to wear our dress! We aren’t buying (L/n)-san her own!”

“We’ll pay for it!” The boys whipped out their own wallets and presented it into the air. 

“Everyone vote for (L/n)-san’s outfit then!” Uotani announced. 

Your eyebrows twitched again in annoyance but you sighed. This was possibly the best way to get the most people at your classroom for the festival. You turned to Yuki who was still pale from thinking about the horror which will arrive. 

You mouthed to him if he was okay, to which he responded with a nod and a smile to you. You both would have to suffer for the success of the festival then. You wanted to groan as your classmates bickered.

In the end, it seems as if the boys in the class voted for a princely outfit for you. You covered your face with your hands as you tried to catch your breath at this strange class. You wouldn’t even be able to know what outfit you would be wearing until the day of the festival. How embarrassing. 

“Can we set some guidelines first of all?” You asked, many of the boys nodding as you took the chalk from Yuki’s hands with your bandaged fingers.

“Please nothing revealing and it has to follow the school dress code still. Keep the capes at a decent length, it would be a hazard having other students and myself trip over it.” You quickly wrote on the board your specifications, “I will also specify that I do not like the color red.”

“Furthermore,” you continued to write, “for Sohma-san’s sake, ask permission to take photos of him. Do not harass him during his breaks or force him into certain actions.”

“Question!” A male student raised his hand high into the air, “if the students pay for five onigiris, can we make special requests for photos?!”

They were asking for a lot this year, you sweatdropped, “as long as it’s nothing inappropriate I guess that should be fine. . .” You turned to Yuki for his approval, while he isn’t keen on being used for advertisement, he was still on the same boat as you: you both wanted your classroom festival to succeed.

“Then, five onigiris for a special request picture.” He smiled while the girls continued to squeal in joy.

You sighed before taking out your journal to document this classroom conversation.

“Oh! (L/n)-san, can you get this table’s orders?” Your coworker called out, holding out a tray and a notebook. “It’s a table for two!” 

You scanned the notebook, seeing that they wanted a variety of drinks and food. One of which was a couples parfait. 

“Yes, right away.” You began to sift through the matcha powder into the warm water and continued to stir with your wooden whisk. 

You begin to notice the ever-growing presence of Yuki in your life, even remembering the way you made tea for him that day. You wondered how easy it was for him to simply slip his way into your life. It must have been a very fateful day. You thought back to your first encounter with him, was it really fate which brought you two together? It seemed so unlikely that the Gods would ever want anything to be within your favor.

As you decorated the parfait with various toppings your coworker, whom you often referred to as Shimada-san, came over to say that she needed you to serve table number 4. You nodded before placing all the cups and food onto the tray before making your way to the table.

You approached the table and gave them a closed smile, “thank you for waiting, here is your order.”

“Oh? So the class rep works here? Cute apron you’re wearing.” You flinched as you snapped your eyes open.

Uotani stared at you with her still wearing the school uniform with Hanajima at the other side of the table. Crap! When did they get here?! You could feel yourself getting nervous as you tried to keep a smile on your face.

“U-Uotani-san, Hanajima-san, it’s nice to see you outside of school.” You nervously responded. “What brings you out here?”

“We heard there was a special edition couples parfait that we had to try.” Hanajima immediately dug into the ice cream with her spoon and started to eat away at it. “It’s very delicious, it has the perfect amount of chocolate to strawberry ratio, and it’s even better with the number of toppings.”

“I’m surprised you even work class rep, most of the students who work usually don’t have a lot of duties for school.” Uotani leaned her head against her propped up hand.

“Is that so? I live alone so I have to work to pay off the rent.” You noticed the way Uotani’s eyes seemingly softened at your reason. You wondered if she too understood the struggle of housing.

“Oh, I see. I also work at a convenience store pretty close by here. Why don’t you sit here and talk with us?”

“A-Ah,” You checked behind the counter to see if Shimada-san was okay with it and it doesn’t seem like there were a lot of customers, “I guess I can stay for a little.”

Hanajima pulled up another chair and you thanked her before sitting down. You neatly folded your skirt to keep a modest appearance. From the corner of your eye, you can see her grin widen even more.

“How long have you been working here for, class rep?” Uotani began to eat the parfait, noting that the strawberries were especially sweet today. “Did you burn yourself or something while working the other day?” She pointed at your hands. 

“A-Ah, yes I did.” You gave her a half-lie, “you can just call me (L/n)-san. I’ve been working here since the start of high school. You’re friends of Tohru-kun aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Uotani reached out to Hanajima to bring her into a side hug, “Tohru is always our best friend.”

“Speaking of Tohru, she told us you also went over to her house. Are you also her friend as well?” Hanajima asked.

“Oh, yes, I guess so. She invited me to dinner a couple of days ago. Tohru-kun is very kind and generous.”

“Right?! She always seems so cheerful and happy it brightens everyone’s moods.” Uotani poked at the ice cream.

“She always had that effect on people,” Hanajima added, “(L/n)-san, we never see you outside of classes even during lunch breaks, do you simply eat alone?” 

Your ears perked up at the sound of your name, “O-Ah. . . Yes. Tohru-kun did ask me to sit with her during lunch but I was afraid I might be intruding.”

Uotani slapped your shoulder playfully while laughing, “you should come! We don’t bite after all. You can always hang out with us and Tohru.”

“I see, I’ll take up that offer next time then.” You responded.

“Did you make these yourself (L/n)-san?” Hanajima pointed at the neatly decorated latte that had a foam cat sitting in the middle.

“Yes, is it to your liking?” You scratched your cheek awkwardly.

“It’s very cute, we always thought you had the best grade in home economics since you often made really nice dishes.” Hanajima complimented, almost finishing the rest of the parfait and beginning to eat at the fluffy pancakes on the side.

You cracked a small smile, “They aren’t that great, thank you for your compliments Hanajima-san.”

“You’re always trying to be so humble and polite (L/n)-san, we’re not even at school.” Uotani started to cut into the pancakes, “you should try to loosen up, here.”

She brought over a cut piece of the fluffy dish up to your face, motioning for you to eat some.

“Is it okay? It’s your food Uotani-san.”

She waved the food around in front of your face, “cmon it’s totally fine! We’re sharing with you anyway!”

Your eyes widened for a bit before you decided to tuck a few strands behind your ear, “then, if you don’t mind.” You leaned forward and carefully took the piece of food without sullying the fork with your germs.

“Oh? You eat pretty politely too.” Hanajima said.

You slowly chewed on the food while nodding in response. “Sorry, was that okay?”

“Maaan~ You class representatives always have pretty faces y'know? Look at Yuki Sohma, the girls go nuts over him.” Uotani dug into another piece of the pancake and continued to chew, “do you both have a secret beauty routine you’re not telling anyone?”

You stifle a chuckle, “not really, I don’t think there's much of a secret to Sohma-san’s beauty, but I do wash my face every hour.”

“Woow, does washing your face make that much of a difference?” Uotani asked.

“Hmm. . . It does keep my face from being constantly oily so maybe.”

“I should try that too then. . .” She mumbled.

Hanajima turned towards you, “are you and Yuki Sohma-san close?”

“N-Not really. We’re just friends.” You tried to brush off the fact that he visited your house yesterday and made an effort to keep a straight face.

Hanajima only nodded in response, “it seems like you guys were close. He stares at you in class a lot.”

E-Eh?! He was staring?! While you kept a straight face in front of Uotani and Hanajima, you were blowing up with steam on the inside. Did I do something embarrassing in class?! Your brain halted to a screeching stop.

“Oh. I see.” You deadpanned. “That is nice.”

“Is that your only reaction. . . ?” Uotani sweatdropped.

“I almost forgot, (L/n)-san, does the rest of the class know you work here?” Hanajima asked.

“N-No,” you diverted your eyes somewhere else, “it would be embarrassing to have them see me in my work uniform.”

“Why not? You’ll get a lot more customers.”

“T-That’s true but. . . I just don’t want my personal life being mixed in with school.” You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, “the only other people who know are Tohru-kun and some of the Sohmas.”

“Hmm. . . I guess so. You’re already dressing up for the festival, it must be hard having a fan club.” She added.

“They’re all nice people, I’m just a bit glad that mine aren’t as vocal as Sohma-san’s.”

You wanted to sigh at this very moment. It was very tough handling even one person from his fan club, you couldn’t even imagine having most of the school head over heels over you. With that much admiration and idolization, you wondered if Yuki ever felt as if he had to keep up his own public image.

He must have felt lonely.

He always had this distant look in his eyes that were shrouded in what seems to be a facade of a prince. Even when talking to other people, it feels as if he too was forcing himself to make a conversation. He would tightly grasp onto the sleeve of his arm whenever he felt stressed, similarly to your own coping habits. 

“I find that. . .” Uotani and Hanajima’s ears perked up at the sound of your voice, “Sohma-san feels outcasted in a way. . .”

“He doesn’t want to show people the real him.” You mumbled, almost inaudible to the other two.

You stood up from your seat and patted down your skirt. “It seems as if my break is over. It was nice meeting you both.” You bowed down to them before repositioning your seat back to the other table.

Uotani only stared at you with a blank stare before giving you a smile, “alright you busy bee, go back to working~”

Hanajima waved you goodbye as they both continued their own conversations with each other. You looked over your shoulder to see them starting to laugh and joke around while you opened the door to the employee’s room. You sat onto the bench and pulled your knees to your chest, resting your head against them.

“We’re similar, Sohma-san.”

You tightened your fists as your nails dug into your bandaged fingers.

You felt so lonely.

Being surrounded by so many people and yet not a single one of them understood anything about yourself. It was so. . . Difficult. It was difficult communicating your inner frustrations and desires, it was difficult even trying to hold conversations with people like Uotani and Hanajima.

You can’t understand how hard it is to simply talk. To just talk to other people and say the things you truly mean. You don’t understand it at all.

“Why do you keep looking at me? Go away.” She tightened her hands together as she prayed in front of the altar.

“You hate me, don’t you? I can see in your eyes. You want me to suffer. . .” She mumbled. “You’re simply a figment of my precious daughter. . .”

She continued to kneel over the altar, your figure hiding within the dark corner as you watched her offer God another worthless gift. You stared at her with wide eyes, your irises never leaving her figure as you watched her every single movement. She fumbled around with the incense and tried to light the tip up with a small portable lighter. She continued to flick at the object, trying to create a small spark of flame.

“It’s all your fault that God isn’t here.” She said, standing up from her position and walking towards the door, shutting it and locking it from the outside. “You worthless spirit.”

You just wanted to cry.

You gripped onto your clothes as you shut your eyes, feeling the cold, wet sensation dripping down your cheeks as you stifled your whimpers.

[maemi324]

Black Coffee

Hey there friends! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Today i come at you with a new piece for a new My Hero character! Well new to me writing him.  Here we have....Villain Deku! Inspired by this tiktok! https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJUywn9t/ it just screamed Villain Deku to me. This is my first time writing him, so if he seems a little OOC, that’s probably it.  Here are some songs I listened to while writing this 1. headless waltz- Voltaire 2. Don’t go by the river- Voltaire 3.House of Myth, Such horrible things, Gorey Demise, Grave Robber, Greatest Show Unearthed, Aim for the head, Buried Alive- Creature Feature 4. Spooky Halloween Mashup, Syndicate: Underground- Cover by Peter Hollens. Warnings: Robbery, Guns, violence, let me know if theres more I need to tag please! Only edited by me, so I’ve probably missed some stuff! With that! Let’s get into it!

Dawning light streamed in through the windows, the scent of coffee heavy in the air, steam from the hot drink you made rising softly. Soft music flowed through the room, other employees taking the chairs off the tables and whipping them down. 

You sipped your drink, your eyes barely staying open as you leaned against the counter.  It was far too early to be awake. Pain flashed through your mouth as you reluctantly swallow, your tongue protesting not only being burned but the now cool air that touched it. 

It was too early for your own nonsense. 

As the sun rose in the sky customers began their daily migration to the bean and leaf juice they all craved. Thankfully it was still rather early, only a handful showing up, and even fewer deciding to take a seat and enjoy their purchases. 

“I can help whoever’s next?” you call out, closing the cash register and looking up to the new customer with a bright smile. 

Bright viridian eyes stared back into your (e/c) colored ones, ones that you hadn’t seen in a very long time, since middle school in fact, his green hair cementing just who he was. Recognition dawned in his eyes. 

“Y/N?” “Midoriya?” 

A surprised laugh bubbled up, catching you by surprise, “I haven’t seen you in months- years even!” a short glare from your manager got you ready to enter in his order. Taking a peek behind him you saw that the line had lengthened considerably. “Y-yeah, it has been quite a while hasn’t it?” He stated his order, as you typed it in and gave him the total amount. He must have been pretty tired still as he stared into your eyes. You waved a hand in front of him, snapping him out of his daze as his face flushed a deep red, frantically digging his hand into his pockets to fish out his wallet- where had the damn thing gone- oh it was in his hand already. 

Even after all these years, Midoriya was still just as much of a spaz as he’d always been. He moves to the drink pick up location, leaning against the counter as you made his drink. “I wish I had more time to talk, but with the line growing…” 

“Well What if I came back later today? Or tomorrow?”  You prepped the cup, adding a drizzle of caramel to the sides, offering him a kind smile

“Yeah, I’d like that,” 

You handed him his drink and sent him off with a wave. A disgruntled Karen decided to ring the service bell as you hadn’t jumped back to take her order. 

Why did it have to be a Karen?

Unfortunately you were unable to see him later on that day.

However, just as you turned the sign from closed to open that next morning, you were surprised to see those same bright eyes aimed at you. 

“Well, you’re here quite early” you teased, opening the door for him as you walked in. It would be a while yet before people came into the little shop. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes looking tired with circles under his eyes, “It’s been a long night,” He laughed off your look of concern, “Just work, nothing too terrible! I just thought I’d swing by earlier before I had to get back to it” 

Your coworkers paid no mind as the two of you walked to the counter as you made him and yourself a drink, taking a seat at one of the tables. No one was here and wouldn’t be here for a good half an hour. 

“So tell me, how have things been? Is your mom alright?” 

“Huh? Oh! Yeah she’s doing fine, still at the same place! She’s retired now actually” “Oh, good for her! I hope she’s enjoying it” you sipped at your coffee, thanking just about everything that you didn’t burn your tongue in front of him. 

“But what about you Midoriya? Last I checked you were wanting to become a hero?” While it would have been hard to be a quirkless hero, It wasn’t impossible. It probably wouldn’t get you ranked in the top five or even the top twenty, but so long as you were a good hero, what did rank matter? 

His eyes shifted from contentment to something a bit more sad, a deep sadness that surprised you. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, a hesitant laugh served as a cover. “Well, I did try, but eventually I just gave up. It just hit me that no matter how much I worked, I’d just be in the way of the pros. I could do some things sure, but...it’s not...it wasn’t enough. So I took a step back and found myself getting into computers, fixing them up, making sure they’re running properly. It’s...It’s nice” 

You place a hand over his, an overwhelming urge to comfort him raced down your bloodstream. His hand jolts at the sudden touch, but he doesn’t bat your hand away. “I always believed you’d make an incredible hero” it made you feel guilty that you hadn’t been there for him when he clearly needed someone, anyone even just to listen to as his one and only dream crashed around him. 

“I know you did, I appreciate it (Y/N),” he offers you a more content smile, “But I’m happy where I am now, really! Plus if I was a hero, I might not have met up with you again” 

You let go of his hand, though not before he gives it a gentle squeeze, picking up your drink and taking another sip. 

“I’m glad to see you're happy though, you said you were fixing computers?”

“Yeah! It’s not a big thing really, just a little repair shop. Clients bring me their various electronics, I clean them and fix them up! It can be really challenging sometimes, especially when it’s an older model! I swear I’ve seen some that I could have sworn were from the early nineties!” 

You listened as he rattled on about his clients, his eyes lit up, a subtle blush on his cheeks as he talked with his hands. More than once you had to back away from getting a straw to the eye, but you hardly minded. 

It became a regular thing, He’d come to the shop at various hours of the day, typically right at opening, on your break, or right as the last customer shifted out the door. You always had his favorite drink ready for him, though you had to fight him to keep him from paying. You didn’t mind after all, paying for his drink. He somehow always managed to sneak in the exact amount into your pockets or purse before he left, leaving you to discover it when he was far and unable to take it back.

The ass.

The more you met up the more open he became, you both talked about work and your grievances there. Now you were talking about anything and everything, TV shows you’d recently watched, movies you were excited to see, stupid stories about Karen's getting owned was a personal favorite. 

However His favorite happened to be the news. He was still hero obsessed as he’d always been. However, there was a more...critical insight into it. 

“Ugh” he huffed out, turning his attention from the TV, though muted, the subtitles were still on. It was currently showcasing Endeavor, how he rescued some civilians from a collapsing apartment building, from a disgruntled worker who had turned to villainy when kicked out of their apartment. They decided to take revenge on the landlord, though it quickly turned to chaos as the entire complex crumbled.

“What is it?” You paused from chewing on the straw to take a sip, “ is it Endeavor?” You knew damn well it was, but it was better to let him process through his words. “Yes! Look at him, smug as can be. He doesn’t even care about those people he rescued, He’s shown no comfort towards them, not even a glance to the children he’d saved. He acts as if he’s too good for them. A real hero would be reassuring, give a sense of calm to everyone involved in a rather tragic turn of events”  he sipped at his drink angrily, nearly choking on it as you patted his back.

“ You mean a hero like All Might?” you offered, knowing that the hero had a special place in his heart. 

Instead of the perky response you would have expected, his lips turned to a thin line, staring into a far off place beyond the TV.

“Yes....just like All Might” 

Figuring he was still going through the appalled emotions from Endeavor, you didn’t press the matter, turning to focus on something else, his latest client, or even a Karen you had encountered earlier that morning. He took your bait readily, eager to listen.

It took you awhile to notice, but during your lunch breaks, on the days he didn’t come in early, he would always be watching the news. He’d rip them to pieces with a barely concealed snarl. He’d rant and rave, while keeping in mind the other customers. He talked about the villains even, and how they were people as well, forced into unfortunate situations, where were the heroes then?

As much as you would have liked to stay in the hero worshiping normalcy, the more he went on the more you began to realize, heroes were actually rather corrupt. You could feel yourself becoming angry alongside him. Why did they do that? What about the people they were rescuing? What about these so-called villains?

You shook your head from your thoughts, looking down to see your next customer that afternoon, a young girl no more than ten years old just out of school and looking to buy a snack and a small drink. 

You sent her off on her merry way, happily sitting down at a table and munching on her snack. Checking your watch, you realized it was time to take your lunch. You sat down at your usual booth and waited for Izuku, sipping at your own drink.

The bell by the door went off, your eyes instinctively looking to see who had entered. Time slowed down as three men came in, guns at the ready and masks pulled over their faces. The first had a black mask, the second having a red one, and the third having a white one.

“Alright! Nobody moves, and no one gets hurt!” the first one shouted, as horrified shrieks went off in the small shop. “Put your hands up and go over there!” he motioned with his gun to collectively gather in a corner. You obeyed along with everyone else in the shop.

The second one aimed his gun steadily at the barista at the register, “No! Not you, you’re going to fill this with all the money you have!” He threw a bag over at the barista who shakily picked up the bag where it had landed, tears running down her cheeks. 

The third held out a bag to the gathered group, “ Put anything valuable in here! Watches, Jewelry, Money, Phones, all of it!” He shouted, an elderly woman shakily began taking off her earrings, another gentleman taking his wallet out. 

The young girl stared with wide eyes, tears falling rapidly down her cheeks, face red as she tried to be quiet, but her hiccups would not allow her. When red looked over at the little girl, her wails increased tenfold.

“Hey! Shut up before I give you a real reason to cry about. You don’t want that do you?!” he shouted, taking a step forward the girl took an extra step back as she put her arms out in front of her to protect herself.

“I said QUIET!” he raised his hand.

Your body moved on it’s own. 

You took the hit for the young girl, your cheek stinging from the impact. That didn’t matter, not over the safety of the little girl, the roar of your heartbeat thumping against your cheek.

“What the hell?!” “Just leave her alone! She’s a little girl, she’s just scared!” You held your arms out, effectively blocking her from view. The elderly woman took the girl to her side, watching for the slightest movement from the robbers.

“ So you want to take her punishment? Is that it brat? Fine,” He shoved you down to the ground easily, glancing over to the young girl, “Take this as an example of what happens when you disobey me!” 

You couldn’t hear anything, your sight blinded as well as his foot collided with your stomach, sending you rolling across the ground. He pinned you down as he punched you, over and over again, arms, stomach and your face, seeing stars as your head hit the ground.

Izuku...Izuku please....

You didn’t know what you wanted from him, whether it was to save you from the pain somehow, or to not show up at all in fear he’d try something heroic like you did. 

The shop doors burst open, a cloth or tape like substance shooting out from someone you couldn’t see, wrapping quickly around the robbers, dragging them to ram into one another, the shock of it making them let go of the guns they held so tightly onto. You faded in and out of consciousness, even though the sounds of battle continued on.

It was all a blur as you slowly came back into reality, sitting in an ambulance being checked over by a nurse. The other heroes who had arrived stood before you, scolding you for your actions.

“What were you thinking?! You put yourself and the girl at risk! They could have made you watch as they hurt her!” 

What was I supposed to do, let her be beaten?

“There were so many other things you could have done! Next time think through your actions before you do anything!”

What could I have done? You fail to mention what else I could exactly do. I didn’t even know what I was doing.

But you didn’t say that. You took the abuse as the nurse began to shoo them off, proclaiming that they’d made their point, nothing more could be said. It wasn’t long before the nurse gave you your results. You were a bit battered but otherwise alright, you’d bruise like hell but you amazingly didn’t have a concussion. Once you were home you were to Ice the bruising spots. With that they sent you with your things back home.

Upon entering your home you changed out of your clothes, something bubbling under your skin. It felt so up close and in your face you couldn’t decipher it. You changed into some incredibly soft shorts and tank top, wincing as you moved to change. 

The silence was too much in your apartment, with shaking fingers you called the only person you could.

“(Y/N)?” “Izuku..” something in you snapped as you heard his voice, a sharp gasp turning into a sob. “(Y/N)? What is it, what’s wrong?”  “I...Can...can you come over? Please? I...I don’t think I can over the phone”  “What? Yeah, Yeah of course, I’ll be right there!”  You gave him your address and hung up after that, flopping onto your couch and hugging a pillow.

It only took him twenty minutes to arrive, but it felt like forever and a second simultaneously. The swift knock at your door startled you out of your blank and racing thoughts. He was dressed in casual clothing, some jeans and some random white button up, a thin green vest over top. Your vision blurred as he stepped in at your allowance, going head first into his chest as you sobbed. He grunted from the impact, but wrapped his strong arms around you regardless. “ Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, I’m here. I’m here” he cooed softly into your ear, “ Here, let’s go to the couch alright?” You nodded but didn’t let go. You shuffled your way to sit on the couch with him, only parting to readjust his hold.

“There was an attempted robbery at the shop today,” you sniffed, resting your head on his shoulder, “ There was a little girl there...she was so scared, she was crying. The...one of the robbers got angry at her, which made her more scared. So I...I took the hit for her”

He lifted your face gently, examining the forming bruise. His frown showed his worry, but he didn’t comment on why you ran to this girls side, “ I was wondering about this black eye I see” You nodded, continuing your story, “Yeah...He didn’t like that I’d taken the hit for the girl...so as an example he beat me up. I don’t remember too much after the ‘heroes’ arrived.” you spat.

“But the heroes arrived and saved everyone, that’s good right?” he prodded. If you had been more aware, you would have heard the underlying tone in his voice. He didn’t really believe the heroes had done well, not with how you spat their name as if it was venom. 

“They told me i was stupid for putting myself in front of the girl, that I should have done something else! What else was I supposed to do? My body moved on it’s own! They could have tortured the girl to get a rise out of me, or hurt the both of us…” As you said those words, another sob tore from your core. “Maybe they were right, maybe I should have just...I don’t know. I’m so sorry I didn’t think of anything faster.”

Izuku cut you off gently cupping your face in his hands, thumbs softly brushing away stray tears. Your eyes refused to meet his.

“Oh darling, look at me,” hesitantly you looked into his eyes, filled with concern, determination and...something else you couldn’t quite place, but it was so soft...so powerful. “You’ve done nothing wrong, you are perfect darling. Without you, that girl could have ended up beaten, or worse!” 

The endearment was new, but not unwelcome, his words wrapping you in a soft blanket of safety.

“You did nothing wrong, you are perfect, everything about you, you’ve done nothing wrong. So please, don’t apologize” You leaned forward to hide in his chest as his words brought a fresh wave of tears. He gently rubbed your back, taking care if you so much as winced to move his comforting circles. 

“It isn’t right that they lectured you. You had just gone through a traumatic event, you needed reassurance, kindness. You aren’t trained to be a hero, you acted on instinct. An instinct that hardly anyone else in that room had. They acted so wrong to you” he whispered, “Those ‘heroes’ are what's wrong with the hero society as a whole. Things need to change”

“But I don’t know how to do that, or where to even start” you whined, your hiccups slowly dispersing. 

“Join me” 

Wait...what?

“Join you...I don’t...I don’t understand…” You look up at him, searching for any hint that it was a badly timed joke. You found none. 

“When I told you I worked with computers....I wasn’t lying, but only technically. You see, I work with this group, as a hacker. We’re going to show the world what these heroes really are, and the need to fix them. The roaches will have nowhere to hide, not from the public, and certainly not by the hero commission”

That was...quite a bit to process. He was a Villain?! All this time?! 

You were shocked, your heart sinking to your stomach. “Why...why didn’t you tell me?” You knew why the second you said the words...but you needed to hear if those were the same words he’d say back. 

“If I’m being honest darling...I was scared. You were always so kind, so soft hearted, to learn you were talking with a villain? Plus, it wasn’t like I could just...tell you in the shop right?” the corner of his mouth lifted up into a slight smirk, though it quickly vanished.

You thought back to today, how angry the heroes had made you. How many others did they tell the same thing when they were just trying to help? How many children paid the price? How many people? 

But the feeling of fists landing on you echoed back in your rapidly increasing heartbeat. You couldn’t do that again, not against a villain, not against heroes, not against anyone!

“I...I’m not cut out for villain work Izuku, you see what happened to me! I...I couldn’t go through that again...I don’t want to go through that again”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, warmth blossoming from the spot. “You don’t have to, just...supporting me is enough, more than enough” he took your hands in his, gentle circles rubbed into them. “You wouldn’t have to quit your job, or move, or anything, just knowing you support me? It fires me up, I have to do this, for you, for everyone, to right the wrongs that have been done. What do you say?” his green eyes were lit up in hope.

Your hands squeezed his, “I do.”

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

uh idk if this is the request box but just found your blog and so happy that requests are open. i was wondering if you could do a shinsou x female reader, where shinsou finds out that the reader likes him and he takes her out on a date and teases her about her liking him. And the reader is just straight out cluless and just goes along with the day. And at the endof the day he confesses to her and its just all fluffy (T-T). ok hopefully that made sense. THank you and stay safe!!!

Thank you, and I hope you stay safe too! This was an adorable ask, I love Shinsou (he be my 3rd hubby) and ugh, just yes. I tried to make this fluffy! 2nd Anon, I hope you don’t mind me adding your request in here, this was fluffy, and you didn’t specify, so I hope you like it!Length: 2.1k wordsPronouns used: She/her

Full Name: (y/f/n)Quirk: (y/q)Age: 16

Cafe Confessions

Shinsou was an extremely observant student. He was quiet, minding his own business, but he always kept an eye out for something- anything. He’d finally been placed into the hero course in his second year and he was even more quiet than usual.

Now, (f/n) had an enormous crush on Shinsou, it happened ever since she saw him at the Sports Festival. His quirk was amazing and Midoriya almost lost within the first ten seconds. Even though he ended up breaking free of Shinsou’s quirk and won, (f/n) couldn’t get him off of her mind.

She soon found out that he was in General Education and even had a chance to fight with him during the joint training session classes A and B had. He was cold and stoic, he barely talked to her and even if he did, it was all relating to the training. He outright refused to answer any other questions.

Shinsou had made it clearer than day that he wasn’t in the hero course to make friends and that was something that seriously hurt (f/n)’s feelings. She tried her best to get over it and it hurt even more when she saw Shinsou actually talking to the others and not her.

None of that helped her feelings which felt like a runaway roller coaster that no one could stop. No matter how hard she tried to give up on him, her stupid heart wouldn’t let her. Every time he’d talk to her, she’d blush or fidget (she definitely stumbled over her words), and she always tried to be near him. Simple things like sitting next to him or standing next to him in a line or something.

Shinsou caught on pretty fast, he wasn’t an idiot. (f/n) barely tried to hide her feelings and at first, he scoffed at the thought. Him dating her? It wouldn’t happen because he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was trying to become a hero, something that required intense focus, training, and time. There was no mention of a girlfriend.

However, the more Shinsou took notice of (f/n)’s crush on him, the more he started to notice her.

(f/n) was a very beautiful girl in his eyes. He really liked her (h/c) hair. Her (long/short) locks looked soft and he often found himself wondering what they felt like. Her bright (e/c) eyes would light up every time she got an answer right or if someone complimented her. The way she’d giggle when Kaminari would say or do something stupid was cute. She’d cover her face, sometimes she’d try to hold back her laughter but it wouldn’t work.

Things like that always brought a smile to Shinsou’s face. She was adorable and he wasn’t going to lie about it. However, over time, Shinsou learned the error of his ways. He started to like (f/n) too.

He was in denial at first. How could he like her? He was too busy, he didn’t need this. But… she was a really nice girl. She was caring, considerate, joyful, determined, and her quirk was amazing, especially the way she used it. It only took about a month for Shinsou to go from not wanting a single friend to contemplating whether he’d ask (f/n) out.

He chose the latter.

***

“Wh-what?” (f/n) asked, her eyes widening a bit.

“You heard me, let’s go out. I know there’s an ice cream parlor that opened up nearby. Want to go?” He was asking her out? Why? (f/n)’s cheeks were a bright red and her head was a fuzzy mess.

“Wh-why?”

“Why not?”

“Ok… sure.” Shinsou gave her an innocent smile and she wasn’t able to see past it. The two started walking towards the shop, making small talk, nothing concerning.

“How are your classes coming along, (l/n)?” Shinsou inquired, peering down at the girl next to him.

“F-fine. I-I’ve been having trouble with Modern History though.” She commented, looking away from him a little.

“Oh? I can help you with that, if you’d like.” She turned to him with wide, hopeful eyes and nodded.

“Yes, please! That would be amazing!” Seeing the hope in her eyes made him feel… good. He wanted to see more of that because it made him happy when she gave him that bright smile of hers.

Yep. He liked her.

The two arrived at the ice cream parlor and stood in line. (f/n) stood in front of Shinsou, her eyes glancing at the menu to pick something that she liked. They had a variety of flavors and toppings which made (f/n) want to try something new.

She was so busy looking at the menu, she hadn’t even realized Shinsou was much closer to her now with his head on her shoulder. He almost laughed at how clueless she was.

“I really like that mango ice cream, what do you think?” She asked, her eyes not leaving the menu.

“Mango sounds good. There’s also grape pineapple.” Shinsou commented, making (f/n) giggle.

“I’m surprised you still like grapes after…” Shinsou backed up, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around.

“You did not.” She giggled at his shocked look and nodded, her hand covering her mouth. “Yeah well, I’m replacing that stupid grape now.”

“I think we all prefer you anyway,” She giggled but slowly stopped when she realized what she’d said. Her eyes widened a little as her cheeks turned red, making Shinsou smirk and lean down.

“Wow, cute blush you got there, (f/n).” Her blush darkened at the way he used her first name and at how close he’d gotten. She was frozen, which made him chuckle as he turned her around, making her break out of her trance.

The woman at the register smiled at her little antics, clearly thinking the two were just an adorable couple.

“How may I help you?” (f/n) approached the counter first with a shy smile.

“Y-yes, h-hi. I-I would like (ice cream flavor) please!”

“Any toppings?”

“(Yes, (insert topping)/No thanks).”

“And you, sir?”

“I’ll have Neapolitan please, with just sprinkles on top.” The woman nodded and typed in their orders, giving them their total afterward. (f/n) reached for her (purse/wallet), but was stopped by Shinsou. “I got it.”

The two found a small booth and sat across from each other with (f/n) thanking Shinsou for paying.

“Of course, cutie. This is a date after all.” (f/n) froze and almost seemed as if she hadn’t been able to comprehend what he had just said.

“A… wh-what?”

“I asked you out on a date, (f/n).” He repeated not even bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. (f/n) fell silent for a moment as her mind went off on a tangent, trying to piece together everything that had happened. He had been a bit flirty. He did ask her out, completely out of the blue, and he didn’t specify if it was a friendly hangout or… a date.

“This is… a date? Why?” He smirked.

“You like me, right?”

“I-I don’t.” She lied, looking away with a frown.

“That’s a lie,” He chuckled, his lilac eyes gazing at her. “You don’t really bother hiding it, do you? You’re always blushing, you’re always around me, you always try to talk to me. Except you stopped recently, I’m not sure why.”

(f/n)’s frown only deepened at his words. Yeah, she stopped because she thought she was just bothering him. At first, that was true. Shinsou didn’t want to make friends so everyone was bothering him, but after a while, that changed. He found himself liking his new companions and especially the cute girl that always said hello to him, not an ounce of worry about his quirk.

That was another thing. (f/n) always willingly started conversations with him and no matter what, she’d always respond to him without any hesitance. It warmed his heart that someone looked passed his quirk, someone who wouldn’t let it scare them, even though he came off so harsh.

“I can’t help it,” She whispered, looking up at him, “you’re amazing. Your determination is impressive and kinda scary too, but in a good way. You didn’t let what others say bring you down, you’re always looking to better yourself and it’s amazing.” He only nodded, taking in her words. Before she could continue, their orders were ready. Shinsou quickly got them and returned to (f/n) who happily took a bite, trying to relieve the awkwardness.

“Hmm, I like this. The strawberry tastes good.” Shinsou stated, letting the ice cream melt on his tongue. With a mischievous giggle, (f/n) reached out with her spoon and took a small scoop before eating it.

“Ooh, you’re right.”

“Hey!” He tried to pretend he was upset, however, he wasn’t able to keep his laughter in. He broke and stole some of hers.

“Hey!” She giggled, leaning closer, “that’s mine!”

“Oh? It doesn’t have your name on it.” He teased, making her lean closer as she stole another bite of his ice cream. “You haven’t learned, have you?”

“Two can play at this game, Shinsou!” She giggled, making him raise an eyebrow.

“You’re blushing, (f/n).” She quieted, with a shy smile and looked down fueling his need to tease her.

“Shut up.”

“Could you… I don’t know, like me?” (f/n) almost choked on her treat, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

“Wh-what?”

“I think you do.”

“I-I don-”

“You can’t deny it with that huge blush on your face. Oh? And now you’re shying away. How cute.”

“Shut up, Shinsou!” (f/n) grumbled, pouting.

“Wow, even that pout is cute of yours.”

“Stop teasing me!” She mumbled, “I’ll fight you and I’ll kick your butt! I’ll do it!”

“Oh yeah? Don’t tempt me to use my quirk.” He said with a smirk.

“You wouldn’t,” She declared with a confident smile, “I trust you and I know you wouldn’t.”

“Say I won’t.” He challenged her.

“You won’t.” She responded without hesitance, making him smile a little. Even now, as he threatened to use his mind control quirk on her, she was still trusting. She still willingly answered him instead of backing away.

“Ah, guess you called my bluff.” He answered, taking another bite of his ice cream. “You’re a brave one.”

“Brave? Hmm… I think I just know you a bit better.”

“Know me?”

“I know you don’t exactly like using your quirk. Especially when the situation doesn’t call for it. You don’t trick people unless it’s necessary either.” Damn. She was right, but she was also special and held a soft spot in his heart, so of course, he wasn’t going to tease her like that. Well… maybe.

“Do you trust me, (f/n)?” He asked, abruptly, making her eyes widen. However, she hardly wasted a second before nodding.

“I do.”

“You barely know me.”

“You’re a hero, right? That means you only want to do good. I trust you as a hero, Hitoshi Shinsou.” Those were words he longed to hear, he’d always wanted someone to say something like that to him.

Shinsou was at a loss of words, his lilac eyes studied every inch of (f/n)’s face trying to find any little trace of deception. His eyes followed (f/n) as she took another bite of her ice cream, her eyes landing on the frozen treat as her spoon picked up another scoop. A hero. She saw him as a hero, something he’d begged everyone for, but never had to ask her.

***

Both (f/n) and Shinsou were walking back to the dorms when he gently grabbed her hand. Her cheeks flushed red again as she looked back and forth between her hand and Shinsou’s eyes.

“Wh-what a-are you do-doing?”

“There’s something I have to tell you, (f/n). And it seems like you haven’t been able to catch on.”

“Wh-what?” Shinsou’s arm gently snaked around (f/n)’s waist as he tugged her closer. Her hands landed on his shoulders as he held her in place.

“I like you, (f/n). I really, really like you.” (f/n) had no response except for a little squeak that escaped her lips.

“Y-you do?” He nodded, his fingers brushing against her jaw.

“I do.” (f/n) swallowed, her eyes meeting Shinsou as the two leaned in. After a few long seconds, their lips finally met. It was brief, a quick brush against each other and they pulled apart.

“I-I like you too.” She confessed, which made him chuckle and hug her.

“I know, oh now, don’t pout like that. You’re absolutely adorable.”

“Whatever, Shinsou!”

“Hey, (f/n)?” The girl looked at him and watched as his cheeks flushed red.

“Call me Hitoshi.”

“Ok, Hitoshi.” He loved the way his name sounded on her lips. Yeah, his classmates were annoying and it was a challenge for Shinsou to get along with them, but with (f/n) at his side, it seemed easier. He’d achieve his goal of being a better hero than everyone, with her right next to him.

[icecream-and-gadreel]

Chapter 1: Family ties

Series Summary: Jack goes missing days after his father betrays their family by joining another syndicate. Everyone suspects Lucifer but instead of sitting around wondering, Castiel goes to the best detective he knows: Dean Winchester. The cynical detective has lost his lust for life and doesn't want to make his miserable days anymore miserable by being caught between the two biggest crime families in the country. Ever persuasive, Castiel is able to recruit him and start a relationship that neither of them expected.

Summary: Castiel can't bite his tongue around his family anymore. Meanwhile, Dean thinks about retirement up until he finds that his agency has been broken in to.

Pairing: Destiel

Other characters: Samandriel, Sam, Gabriel, Jack(Mentioned), Lucifer(Mentioned) Max, Cassie(Mentioned) Charlie (Mentioned)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, guns, smoking, death mention, threats

Word count: 2800+

A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @cajunquandry, I appreciate you making this fic sparkle! Anyways I am obsessed with Noir films and bamf!Castiel, so why not feed into both? Enjoy!

Masterlist

Three days missing

Castiel

Cigarette smoke fogs the room, the sound of jazz music combatting the chattering crowd. Sitting in the corner of the bar is Castiel, swirling his beer mindlessly.

It's driving him insane.

His family, all crowded around him, celebrates some meaningless victory and pretend like nothing is wrong. The absolute disregard for Jack's disappearance is enough to make him want to snap. But he doesn't. Instead, he swirls his beer and avoids the looks from his brothers. Samandriel stares at him from across the bar, babysitting a glass of water. He seems to be the only other person that gives a damn. Castiel begins raising to his feet, halting when Sam sits next to him. Sighing, Castiel sinks back into his seat.

“Hey,” Sam says, rolling his sleeves up. Castiel grunts in response, setting his beer down and leaning back in his seat.

“You came.”

“Yeah, uh Gabriel wouldn't stop calling the office so...” Sam shrugs, gesturing for the bartender. He orders a shot of vodka, clearing his throat. “You ok?” he asks, patting Castiel's back.

“Far from it,” he retorts, flicking his eyes to the other man. “He's gone. No trace, no signs, just vanished. I'd feel better if there was a body.”

Sam nods, downing his shot with a huff. “I get it –”

“Do you?,” he snaps, glancing over his shoulder before continuing. “All they talk about is 'loyalty' and 'putting the family first', but the moment it really counts they're nowhere to be seen,” he growls.

Sam nods. “No, I get it, I do,” he says, nodding once more. Before Castiel can respond, Gabriel is throwing his arms around them.

“Stop being a fucking buzz kill!” Gabriel whines, tssking his younger brother. Castiel shakes out of his grasp, whirling around toward the crowd. Gabriel offers him a bottle of whiskey, wiggling his eyebrows. “Live a little, baby bro.”

Snatching the bottle away, Castiel stands from his seat, gaining whoops and hollers from his family.

“Castiel –”

“My nephew,” he begins, cutting Sam off. The crowd goes quiet. “Our nephew has disappeared from the face of the earth.” Castiel swigs from the bottle, a river of liquor running down his neck. “Could be dead or worse.” He smashes the bottle against the ground and Sam flinches back, a look of concern crossing his face. “Excuse me if I'm not 'chipper',” he adds, a faux-smile on his face. The room is silent, even the music has stopped. Castiel stares around at the sea of shocked faces, his chest heaving as the anger bubbles inside of him. “You're all full of shit. Being with family only matters to you when it's fun!”

Sam stands from his seat, patting Castiel's back. “I think we should go,” he whispers, flinching when Gabriel clears his throat.

“Look, we all know Lucifer has him, can't take him from his dad now can we?” Gabriel asks.

They could. All they'd have to do is find the bastard, tell him to give Jack up, and take him home. Castiel considers telling Gabriel this, but heads for the door instead. He ignores the protests from his family, tucking his hands into his pockets and making his way down the road. He pulls a lighter from his pocket with a huff. He looks over his shoulder at the sounds of a car approaching, rolling his eyes. 

“Need a ride?” Sam asks, easing the car to a stop. Silently, Castiel leans against the hood of the car, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Come on, get in.”

“No, get out.” Sighing, Sam pulls his keys out of the ignition, sulking over to him with a cocked smile. “The detective,” he says, flicking his eyes up to Sam.

“My...brother?” Sam asks, shaking his head when Castiel nods. “It's not gonna happen.”

“He was able to get to Michael. I still don't know how he got close enough,” he says, resting a hand on Sam's arm. “What I do know is if anyone could find Jack, it's him.”

“It's not gonna happen,” he repeats, stiffening as Castiel squeezes his shoulder. “Dean doesn't deal with the mafia,” he adds.

“Please. It's like I'm the only one who gives a damn,” he says, gently rubbing Sam's arm. “I can't do this alone,” he adds. Sam melts under the touch, as he always does, and darts his eyes away.

“It's not that easy,” he mumbles. Castiel flicks his cigarette away before bracing Sam's other arm, a stone look on his face.

“An address. That's all I need. If he says no, then I'll leave,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes and gently urges Castiel's hands away.

“Only if you go back to the bar with me.” Sam points behind himself. “You owe me a shot.” Castiel hums, shrugging.

“Fine.”

–

Four days missing

Castiel stares down at the sloppily written address, squinting his eyes. The ink is smudged thanks to Gabriel spilling a drink all over the napkin, but he thinks he has the right place. He rubs a hand over his eye, trying to shake away his hangover. Never again will he challenge his overgrown lawyer to a drinking contest. He stares down at the address once more, glancing up when he hears humming. A man with caramel skin makes his way to the building, pulling out a set of keys. After opening the door, he disappears into the building. 

Glancing around, Castiel draws his gun, jogging across the street and ducking into a nearby crevice. Minutes later the delivery man is reemerging. He sets down his sack of packages and sorts through the keys once more. Castiel creeps up behind him, pressing his gun into the other man's back.

“Don't scream,” he says, voice calm. The man obliges, slowly raising his hands up. “What's your name?”

“Max,” he grunts, looking over his shoulder with a sigh. “I don't carry my wallet, but I think someone ordered a blender,” he says dryly, nodding to the bag.

“I need to get into this building,” he says in a near whisper.

“You couldn't just ask?”

“Would you have let me in?” he retorts. Max shakes his head, sorting through the keys once more and opening the door. He leads Castiel inside, hands still in the air. “Come with me.”

“Why?” Max grows, shooting him a glare. Castiel opens the door to the detective's office, pushing Max in first. The room feels claustrophobic; the mess on the floor and desk isn't helping. It smells faintly of cigarettes and warm cologne. Castiel looks at each corner, noting that there aren't any cameras. He sinks down into the spinning chair behind the desk, gesturing at Max with his gun.

“I'm a very good shot,” he begins, opening a drawer and digging around. “But if I happen to miss, I will find you, and if I find you, things will be much less pleasant than they are now.”

“Wow, you're a blast to deal with,” Max says, leaning against the wall.

Castiel grabs a picture of a stoic man and a curly haired woman from the desk, his gun still aimed at Max. “I've been told recently that I'm not,” he says, furrowing his brow. They both share a solemn look. Dean, he assumes, looks far more intense than Sam described him. He flips the photo over, chuckling under his breath. 'The wife and I try to be serious for once. Didn't work. September '48'. he turns the picture once more, observing Dean before getting back to his main mission. Cameras. Bugs. Recorders. Anything a cop could use to get him caught up. He squats down, running his hand underneath the desk.

“...flies in.”

Castiel frowns, looking up at the source of the voice. His throat runs dry as he trails his eyes over the man before him. Black pants that cling to his bow-legs. A button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing freckle kissed skin. His face falls into a frown, his cherry red lips parted. Castiel forces himself to look away, glancing down at the picture.

Dean.

Dean

Dean tosses a burger on Sam's desk, a toothy grin on his face.

“Mornin' sunshine,” he cooes, gaining a groan from Sam. “Come on, grease is the hangover miracle cure.”

“I just need sleep and...copious amounts of coffee,” the younger Winchester groans, slowly rising from his desk. “...And to never drink again,” he adds, eyeing the burger.

“Yeah, leave it to the professionals buddy,” Dean says, shooting him a wink. Sam furrows his brow and unwraps his burger as he leaves his office.

“Any new cases?”

Dean hums, following Sam out and staring at the sky. The last case had ended with him locking one of the Novak brothers up, and sending another one running for the hills. The months to follow have been almost stagnant. “I think it's time,” he says. Sam bites into his burger, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You know, retirement. No more catching politicians in motels, just me and Baby.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, ok.”

“What? I'm serious!” Dean says, gesturing to the air. “Look at this, Sammy,” he says. The sky is blue with few clouds painting the sky. Cars are racing down the street, along with many people hustling on the sidewalks. “I don't get to enjoy this beautiful city anymore.”

Sam chuckles, glancing around. “Someone peed on this 'beautiful' sidewalk,” he says, pointing to a spot on the ground. Dean hops over it, staring at the stain as he passes. “But yeah, you're missing out,” Sam chuckles.

“Ha. I think it'll be good for me, though,” Dean says, stroking a finger along his jaw. “Solving crimes, angry convicts just waiting to catch me in a dark alley. I don't like it anymore.” Sam frowns, tossing the last bite of his burger into his mouth.

“All you've ever talked about is helping people.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean pauses, darting his tongue over his lip. “Just doesn't get me out of bed like it used to,” he says, glancing at his brother. The younger Winchester gives him his trademark puppy dog eyes, making him huff. “What?”

“Being cooped up in the house all day thinking of Cassie isn't healthy, Dean.” He speaks slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. “Neither is drinking yourself to sleep and waking up next to random strippers. The agency is the only thing that kept you sane,” he adds. Dean chuckles, his chest tightening at the mention of her. At the office. Sitting at home. It doesn't matter, the only person on his mind will always be her. He twists the wedding ring around on his finger, forcing out a laugh.

“You'd make a better shrink than a lawyer.”

“Fine, let's say you quit, what about Charlie? She needs the job and you know it,” Sam says. Dean purses his lips with a shrug. As he approaches his agency, his face sinks. The door is wide open, and on the side of the door sits Max's parcel bag.

“Wait here,” Dean grunts, gaining a perplexed look in return. Slowly, he pokes his head into the door, scanning his eyes over the room. Nothing seems disturbed, save for his door being left open. He scratches his scruff, eyeing the door to his office. Cracked open. “Max, you left the door open,” he yells, making his way toward his office. “Gonna let flies in...” his voice trails away at the scene before him. Max, standing in the corner with his hands up. A vaguely familiar man digging in his desk with a gun aimed at the delivery man. The man stares at Dean silently, blue eyes dancing.

“Go,” the man says, waving his gun at Max. He reluctantly walks out of the room, hands still in the air. “Are there any bugs?” he asks, voice rasping. Dean slowly makes his way to a bottle of whiskey sitting on the window seal, shaking his head.

“Had a couple roaches a while back, other than that, no,” he says, grabbing two glasses. He sets them on his desk, filling the glasses half-way with the liquor. “Dean Winchester. Am I looking at a new client?”

“I hope so,” he says, reluctantly tucking his gun into the back of his pants. Dean offers the man a cup of whiskey, sipping from his own. “This isn't how I imagined this interaction going.”

“I figure either you shoot me, or you pay me. Neither sounds bad these days,” he says, chuckling. The other man remains silent. “So...wife's cheating? Boss stealing from the company? What's the case?”

“A missing person, my nephew,” he says, making his way around the desk. Dean grabs a pen and a piece of crumpled paper, leaning on his desk.

“Fun. What's he look like?” Dean asks.

“Brown hair. About 5'10''. Twenty-two. Blue eyes...” He gulps down his whiskey, wiping his mouth afterward. “I just need to know that Jack is alive.”

Dean jots down a few notes, nodding to himself. “Right, and what's your name?” he asks. The other man pauses, looking to the ground. Dean stares at him silently, rolling his wrist when the man doesn't say anything. “You know, like the thing people call you?”

“Castiel,” he says, biting his lip. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean tosses the pen and paper, clasping his hands together. “There it is. I don't work with murderers. If you need a lawyer, my brother's always taking new clients,” he says, gesturing to the door. “Have a good one.”

Castiel takes a step closer. “Sam is the reason I'm here. I'm out of options.”

“Look, I feel for you, I really do but I'll be damned if I get involved with the mafia,” he says, holding his hands up and shaking his head.

“Who said anything about the mafia?”

“You do realize that I locked up Michael, right?” Dean asks. Castiel clenches his jaw, huffing. 

“Jack doesn't deserve to be ignored because of what his family is 'allegedly' involved in,” he says,taking a step closer to Dean. “Name a number, any ridiculous price and it's yours.”

Chuckling, the Winchester crosses his arms over. “I don't take blood money.” He nods to the door. “See ya,” he adds. Sam jogs into the room, staring between the two men with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, what's up with Max?” Sam asks, frowning when his eyes land on Castiel. “Oh, you've met.”

“Yup. We met and now he’s on his way out,” Dean says, sipping his liquor before setting the cup down. Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, chest heaving. Wordlessly, he pulls his gun out, aiming it at Dean.

“I don't think you understand the position you're in.”

“Woah, hey,” Sam says, holding his hands up to Castiel. “Let's calm down.”

“I don't have time for this. I need help, Dean.”

Dean cracks a grin, tilting his head. “I already told you my answer. Burn down my business, shoot me, whatever. I've got nothing to lose.”

“Yeah?” Castiel returns his smile, turning the gun on Sam. “Well, You've got him,” he says. Dean stands from his desk, his smile being replaced with a grimace. “Lay his life on the line, and I'll know you stand for nothing.”

“Castiel,” Sam says, hurt apparent in his tone.

“You love pointing that thing around, huh?” Dean asks, voice wavering. Castiel stares at him blankly, cocking his gun.

“Might I remind you that I've been accused of allegedly killing men for much less. Imagine what I'd hypothetically do to him to gain your cooperation, Detective,” he says. A look of hurt crosses Sam's face, and he turns his eyes to the elder Winchester, letting out a heaving breath. Castiel raises his eyebrows, turning his gun to the ceiling and firing off a round. “In case you thought it wasn't loaded.”

Dean looks between both men, swiping a hand over his face. When Castiel points the gun at Sam, Dean holds his hands out to him. “I'll do it,” he blurts, heart pounding in his chest. Smiling, Castiel de-cocks his gun, looking between both men.

“Thank you, I'll be here first thing tomorrow.”

Eternity squad: @sheinthatfandom​​ @greenshinigamieyes @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @bcarolinablr @mrswhozeewhatsis @mssunnyone

[tearsofgrace]

The King of Hearts

read below or find on archive!

“Soulmates? You’re kidding, right? You believe in that shit?” Dean set down the glass he was washing and turned to face his most recent pain-in-the-ass.

“I do.” Castiel’s bright blue eyes shone from underneath his glasses, and part of Dean was tempted to rip them off and pin him to the wall. Not that he thought they were soulmates or anything. The guy was cute. It wasn’t Dean’s fault. 

“So, what? You think there’s some guy out there who you’re destined to be with. Who’ll sweep you off your feet and make you his? Sorry, Cas, but I just don’t see it.” 

Cas shrugged and pulled a small card from his wallet. 

“Well, if you change your mind,” he slid the card across the counter and smiled, “let me know.” 

Cas turned and walked out the door, the small bell ringing on his way out. 

He picked up the card and couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. It had a number written on it with neat, precise writing. Across the bottom it said “Castiel” with a halo over the “I” instead of a dot. 

Dean had met Cas about a month ago when he walked into the diner looking lost. He said his boyfriend wanted a burger and fries but he was vegetarian and didn’t know where to go. Which was frankly adorable. They’d got to talking, and Cas had come in every day since. He never ordered a burger again, though. Just fries and milkshakes. 

Dean found out later that Cas had gone home that night and broken up with his boyfriend. Something about not being right for each other and the guy taking him for granted. 

They’d gotten pretty close, but Cas had never asked to see him outside of work. And he’d never really made it seem like he was interested until today. He’d ordered a strawberry milkshake and fries and sat at the bar, staring at Dean as he wrapped his lips around the oversized straw. 

Dean had blushed and looked away, waiting tables until there was nothing left to do and he had to get back behind the counter. Then Cas had started talking about soulmates. 

He tucked the number in his shorts and went back to work. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. And Cas was cute in a nerdy and awkward sort of way. So when he got off work he texted him and asked if he wanted to get drinks. 

He actually felt nervous when he was getting ready. Which hadn’t really happened in a long time. He didn’t get nervous for dates; he was Dean Winchester. Dates always went his way. But something felt different about this one. 

So he’d gone through his entire closet, trying on about six outfits before he decided on a black leather jacket and a plain grey shirt with a pair of simple jeans. He still thought he looked stupid, but he was going to be late so he just left it. 

When he walked into the bar, his eyes tracked through the dim light til he found Cas sitting at the bar, still wearing his sweater. 

“Hey,” he said, sitting down and ordering a beer. 

“Hey, Dean.” They lapsed into silence for a few moments and Dean cleared his throat, waiting awkwardly for the beer.

“How’s the pet shelter going?” Cas’ whole face lit up and he took a sip from his cosmo. 

“We got three new dogs in today. They were on the streets, starving, and we rescued them. And we already have an adoption lined up for one of them.” Dean studied his face and smiled. This guy was so different from the guys he dated. So much sweeter, so much more animated. 

“And the cat I told you about last week that management was going to…” he paused and Dean could see the anger rising on his face, “Well, anyway, a little girl is going to adopt him next week, so he’s safe.”

Dean smiled and took a drink of his beer, content to let Cas go on about every single animal in the shelter. After a few minutes, Cas seemed to realize Dean hadn’t said anything in a few minutes and he pulled up short in the middle of a story about a parrot with an affinity for cursing.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to go on like this. I don’t really know that much about you, Dean. How long have you worked at the diner?” 

Dean finished his beer and ran a hand through his hair. “Damn, I guess like seven years now.” Cas stared at him expectantly and reluctantly he went on. “I spent a lot of time there in high school, and I got to know Ellen pretty well. So she offered me a job.” 

“Right out of school?” 

Dean bit his lip and ordered another beer. 

“C’mon. I want to know you, Dean.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why? Cause you think we’re soulmates? Cas, look, I like you, okay? You aren’t the kind of guy I would normally go for… but for some reason I do. But that doesn’t make us soulmates.” 

Cas just shrugged and Dean sighed.

“I dropped out of college because my dad stopped paying and I couldn’t get a loan. So Ellen offered me the job, and I never really looked back.”

“Why’d your dad stop paying?” Cas finished his drink and set the glass delicately on the table, propping his hand under his chin. 

“Because he found out I was gay.” He didn’t know where it’d come from. Ellen was the only other person who knew that, and he hadn’t even told her, she’d guessed. 

“His loss.” Dean snorted and took another drink.

“You seem pretty out and proud though,” Cas said.

“Well, I am now. I wasn’t really.” He finished his second beer and ran his hand anxiously through his hair again. 

“You ready to go?” Cas asked, handing his credit card to the bartender. 

“Uh, go where?” Dean blushed and cursed himself silently. This wasn’t him on dates. He was always in control. What was it with this guy?

“Relax,” Cas smirked and took his card back, “It’s a surprise.” 

They walked out of the bar and Cas crossed the street. He walked up to a small door that was tucked in between a small office and a pizza place. 

Dean jogged across to follow him and stood in the cold with his hands in his pockets. He glanced nervously at Cas.

“If you’re gonna murder me, at least tell me now.” 

Cas laughed and turned back to the door. A young boy answered, glancing between them. 

“You found him?” 

Yep, I’m getting murdered tonight, Dean thought. 

Cas nodded and turned to face Dean. “This is Logan, he’s a psychic.”

“He’s like,” Dean looked at the boy again, “thirteen.”

“Well, he’s also my little brother. But trust me, he’s the real thing.” Cas walked through the door, following Logan and turned back to wait for Dean.

“I’m not going in there.” Dean backed up and looked up and down the street, but he didn’t leave. He felt himself being pulled inside, being pulled toward Cas. 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Dean shrugged and followed him through the door. Tonight was as good a night as any to get murdered, and Cas wasn’t a bad person to do it anyway. 

The hallway was brightly lit, but he couldn’t tell exactly where the light was coming from. There weren’t any lightbulbs on the ceiling, and there were no shadows either. The entire hallway was just bathed in a ghostly white light. 

Logan walked to the back into a small room, Cas closely in tow. Dean lingered in the hallway for a minute then followed them into the room. The only furniture in the room was a small table close to the ground. Logan and Cas kneeled at it and Dean joined them. 

Sitting in the middle of the table was a deck of playing cards.

“We gonna play some poker, or…” Dean gulped nervously and Logan laughed, picking up the cards.

“No, I use these to read you.”

“No tarot then?” He shifted on his knees.

“Nope.” 

Logan shuffled the cards and Dean glanced at Cas. His glasses reflected the light in the room, and his face was completely blank. 

With slender fingers, Logan dealt two cards face down, one in front of Dean and one in front of Cas. 

“Flip it,” Cas said, reaching for his card. 

Dean flipped his card over and saw the king of hearts, whatever that meant. Cas slid his card over to rest next to his. King of diamonds. So, the cards were both kings and both red. Dean yawned and looked at Cas and Logan with what he hoped was a skeptical scowl. 

“There you go. I told you,” Logan said, idly fanning the rest of the cards in front of him. 

“See, Dean? Soulmates are real.” Dean laughed and pulled his knees from under him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“Right. Because your brother pulled two random cards from a deck and they happened to be similar, I’m supposed to buy that you and I are soulmates.”

“You’re saying there isn’t even a small part of you that believes it?” Dean made an effort to not run his hand through his hair, and shrugged. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to ignore this. Sure, Cas was weird. But he could actually see something here. Something real. 

Then he stood up and turned to leave. 

“What, you aren’t gonna stay for poker?” Logan called after him. 

He walked from the room without a word, but as he went, he heard Logan say in a hushed voice, “Don’t worry, he’ll be back.” 

The next morning, he went to work and tried to forget it all. He got there before anyone else and scrubbed all the tables and counters with a little more gusto than necessary. 

“How’d your date go last night?” He turned to see Ellen leaning against the register, a mischievous grin on her face. 

“It was fine.”

“That good, huh?” 

“Drop it, Ellen.” She held up her hands in surrender and he went back to wiping down tables. 

They opened at 9. At 9:03 Cas walked through the door in a different sweater. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen it before. Not that he paid any attention to what sweaters Cas wore. This one was navy blue with a criss cross weave across the front. It looked good on him. 

Cas sat at the bar and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Dean was across the diner and he considered making a dash for the door when Cas waved him over. 

“Hey, Cas.” 

“Good morning, Dean. Can I talk to you outside?” Dean looked up at Ellen and she nodded with the same grin she’d been wearing earlier. 

They walked into the alleyway and Dean felt his nerves rattling. 

“Sorry if I freaked you out last night,” Cas started.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve dated some weird guys.” Cas raised an eyebrow and Dean fumbled to correct himself. 

“Not that I think you’re weird or anything, I just-”

“It’s fine, Dean. Look, I really like you. And I don’t want to mess this up, okay? So if you want to forget that whole thing ever happened, that’s totally fine. But I want to see you again.” 

Dean smiled and impulsively reached a hand out to play with the weave on Cas’ sweater.

“I’d like that. But we don’t have to forget. Do you really think we’re soulmates, Cas?” Cas’s eyes were fixed on his hand, watching it roam over his chest. 

“I do.” Dean pulled his hand from the sweater and instead put it on Cas’ chin, lifting his eyes to meet his own. He cupped the man’s face and took a deep breath. 

“Then I guess I can get behind that,” he said with a small smile. 

Cas smiled back and took a step closer, standing on his tiptoes and gently pressing his lips into Dean’s. He tasted like strawberry milkshake. Dean wrapped his hands around Cas’ waist and drew him further into him. 

When they broke apart, Cas reached into his pocket and pulled out two cards. 

“Here, this one’s yours,” he said, handing him the king of hearts. Dean pocketed it and looked into Cas’ blue eyes, getting lost in them. 

He still wasn't quite sure what the hell he was doing here. But maybe that didn't matter; maybe he didn't have to know. Something about Cas- something about the way their lips fit together- made him forget the craziness. And maybe that was enough.