#dark enough or the struggles i face isn't as bad as you've experience.

[veone]

also yall know that thing about how people with adhd will forget you exist if they don't see you, that is very true on my end.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 17

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 17: now what?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Holy Hell toots, you kissed the big scary Radio Demon?" Angel came bursting through the healer's front door.

I casted wind to slam it shut behind him and made myself bigger with my wings extended. "How the hell do you know?"

"I overheard Alastor and Husker arguing," he answered, slightly taken aback at my display.

I turned away from the white and pink Demon and ran my claws along my head, the tips clicking against my horns. Vivian was at my side with a hand on my back. She, Vilcin, and Althea had just managed to coax the same revelation out of me before Angel came in.

"Is this a bad thing?" he asked.

"Yes it's a bad thing!" I spun to face him again. "I got manipulated! I fell for it. I fell for his stupid trick. And I knew what he was doing and fell for it anyways."

"How do you know it was a trick?" He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, maybe he was actually serious."

"Because I saw his memory." I sat in one of the soft chairs and dropped my head in my hands. "I saw him talking to Rosie about how our connection was getting stronger. And how if it was strong enough then I could control my magic and he could feed off it."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence. I then stood up and paced in a circle at wicked speed. "I'm so angry! At him and at myself." I let out a struggled noise and pulled at my hair. "I thought I was getting better!"

"Was that the only memory you saw?" Althea asked. My trio of friends stood near each other still, unsure of how to help me. "Perhaps that was a memory that happened awhile back. Maybe he has had a change of heart since then."

"He's the fucking Radio Demon. He's not capable of loving anyone." I knew I spoke lies as soon as it had come out. I went silent and fell into the chair again. He loved his mother and sister dearly. Maybe after so many years of living without them, he had forgotten how to love someone.

"Hey." Althea knelt beside me, a gentle hand on my leg. Her green hair was a stark contrast with the dark flooring; it naturally drew my eyes to her. "Maybe anyone can learn. Even him."

"You learned how to love Reagan," Vivian chipped in. Her lamb ears swayed as she moved to kneel on the other side of me. "You were a brutal ring fighter. But now you love and dote on all the children."

"Maybe you should look further in his memories," Althea suggested, "see if there's any other conversations. Feel what he's feeling. It's the least he can let you do."

"I don't know."

There was a long moment of silence.

"So what'd it feel like?" Angel asked.

****

"This woman doesn't know how to stay off my nerves." Alastor rubbed his aching forehead. After my disappearance into the haven, he paid Rosie another visit.

"Love isn't trifling," she answered. "I must say though, I'm not sure why she's different than your other female acquaintances. You've never not hit it off with a lady before."

"She's not your typical woman, I suppose." He leaned his chin on the back of his hand and stared off at the window. "Her attitude has always been a problem. Perhaps it comes from her experience."

"She was a caged animal for most of her life," Rosie agreed, taking a sip of the hot tea she made. Alastor had yet to touch his.

"I have done what I can to show I enjoy her company. Why does she not believe me?"

"You two didn't have the greatest of relationships at first," she pointed out, "Not to mention everything she had to deal with when it came to mind magic and her curse."

"Yet our relationship has changed significantly in the past year. It's...annoying," he lifted a single claw from the armchair, "that she rejected my advance when she herself wasn't showing signs of distaste." He paused, eyes flickering up to Rosie's briefly before looking back at the window. "Perhaps my performance was lacking."

Rosie let out a laugh, causing him to pin his ears back in a growl. "Oh goodness, Alastor, I don't think that's the case. If it makes you feel any better, it doesn't seem like she has much experience in that field either."

It did make him feel slightly better. "I'm unsure how to move forward from here."

"She likes honesty." Rosie calmed her laughing and, putting her cup down, walked over to Alastor's chair. "Perhaps it's time you let her into that green mind of yours," she gently poked the side of his head and he leaned away. "Let her see how you truly feel."

He sank further into the chair. "This is stupid."

"This is love, darling."

"Surely this isn't how things typically go."

"You two aren't very typical, nor is your situation."

He tapped his claws. "Blast this woman," he mumbled.

****

By the time my cravings came back, I wasn't ready to deal with Alastor just yet. I had spent two days in Althea's healer hut just to avoid him. On the second day the cravings hit hard and I was curled in a ball for most of the day. Our deal had ensured that I wouldn't be able to live without his blood, without him. I had been tricked again.

Veins squeezing painfully tight, I trudged up the hill to the house. I felt his presence long before I touched the door and slammed it shut.

"Alastor!" I yelled for him. He manifested in the living room a moment later.

"You called." He wore his usual wicked smile.

"I'm still angry at you but the cravings came back," I stated, immediately getting down to business. I had a hand on my chest, nails digging painfully into my skin.

"I understand, darling." He leaned his cane against the fireplace and rolled up his jacket sleeve and the one underneath it. How many layers did he need? "Do accept my apology on the matter."

"Not yet." I buried the fear that was threatening to choke me as I crossed the room.

"I understand." He nodded, offering his exposed arm. He was being uncharacteristically cooperative, but maybe he was trying to make amends. My mouth began to water at the prospect of his sweet blood.

I slowly grabbed his wrist and summoned all the anger I could to bite down harshly. He let out a grunt as my teeth pierced his skin. His black blood soothed the itching in my throat and my veins slowly stopped seizing. My anger died as my body relaxed.

He grabbed my opposite shoulder and pulled so my back was against his chest. My teeth were still in his skin as he pressed that arm harder into my mouth, effectively pinning my head against him. His other arm was around my torso so my claws couldn't reach up to do any damage. I tried yelling but my jaw remained locked in place.

"Now that you're silent, it is my turn to speak." His voice was light but firm. "I understand you are angry with me because you believe I am manipulating you. To a degree, you were correct." I bit down harder and it caused him to wince. "But I understand now that I was merely fooling myself. I greatly enjoyed dancing with you that night. I find myself wanting to be around you all the time. And it infuriates me that Lucifer has permission to look through your mind while I am not allowed to do more than touch you. Even that one is debatable."

Without warning, his presence wrapped around mine and pulled me in his mind. Memories popped up in front of me. Memories of him watching me, close or from afar. I could see myself watching the children on the shore, tending to a crying child, talking with my friends, and reading by the fire after our afternoon sessions.

He also showed his actions that I never saw. Actions like soothing a nightmare after the soul shadow incident or attempting to touch my shoulder or back, but retracting it a second later. I saw the night we danced and felt a strange mix of nervousness and comfort. He looked briefly at my lips right before we kissed.

I blinked back to the dim living room. I had long stopped drinking his blood and now spit and blood were dripping off my chin.

"I am quite infatuated by you. I have grown accustomed to your presence, and dare I say I am not sure how to live comfortably without it. You send a thrill up my spine." He used magic to send warmth up my back as a visual. "I ask that you believe me when I say I want to be closer with you."

The confession left me dumbfounded. Everything was still and the only sound came from my breath on his skin. I could feel his chest rise and fall on the backside of my head. Did he always breathe that fast?

Eventually, I tugged my arm out and he finally released me. I took my teeth out of his skin and turned to face him. He grimaced at the sight of his spit covered arm and used magic to clean it up. I did the same with my chin.

"I don't know how to feel," I admitted, his ears quirked back. "I just...I don't..." I rubbed my arm and watched one of my foot claws scratch the carpet. Poor Niffty was always fixing the holes I was putting in it.

He bowed low like the night we danced. "Then I will allow you the time and space to think." His shadow melted with him and he slipped back up to his room. The room felt colder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Nooooo, but I want him to be closer not further away

[sidgeno-ficrecs]

this delicate place by @ljummen

sidgeno (2019, explicit, 32.8k) **content notes: mental illness, anxiety attacks, depression, trauma and its aftermath

“Are you?” Taylor asks unexpectedly. “Am I what?” Looking up from the stove, Sid finds her watching him with an odd look on her face. “Happy.” It should be an easy question to answer. Sid has escaped back to Canada after a career ending injury. It doesn’t dawn on him exactly how much early retirement has affected him, until Taylor introduces him to a YouTube channel where a firefighter talks about his own struggles with his mental health.

Hey Geno,

I just watched this video and realized that I’ve had several panic attacks over the course of a few months. I had one a few hours ago. I haven’t experienced anything traumatic, but anxiety (I assume, based on your description in this video) has been sneaking up on me. A week ago, I bought two plants, like you suggested in another video. Today’s panic attack was triggered by me noticing that they were dead (the plants, I mean).

I feel stupid for reacting to something so trivial. I haven’t watched that many of your videos, but from what I understood, you actually experienced something bad. So why am I broken for no reason?

this is a hard time of year.

it's dark, it's cold (if you're in the northern hemisphere), and for me at least, it always seems like the post-holiday winter stretch is when bad things happen. it's easy to get lost in your own head and spend hours dwelling on what's gone wrong, or what might go wrong, and get stuck in a negative feedback loop that can be so, so hard to break out of.

i've mentioned before that i don't love fics that diagnose sid (or geno, but it's usually sid) with certain neurodivergencies because in my experience it leads to people talking about him like he actually has x or y and it makes me uncomfortable, but i re-read this fic last night because i've been feeling down recently and i think it deserves a moment in the spotlight.

this story is a very raw, honest look at what it can be like to deal with depression and anxiety, from the perspective of someone who never has before and doesn't know what's going on and needs an extra push to see what's happening and get help.

depression is a lonely, isolating experience, and that's part of what makes it so dangerous. it's so easy to not notice that you're withdrawing and losing yourself until it's almost too much to climb out of, and on top of all that you've lost all motivation to take steps to get better. it's a vicious, evil little trick the brain can play on you, and @ljummen walks us through sidney's experience with it with care, honesty, and compassion.

this fic made me feel seen. it can be hard to read—sid has panic attacks and we as readers experience them right along with him, along with the other symptoms of depression—but if you're in a space where reading about it won't make you feel worse or trigger anything, i really recommend it. we see sid struggle, we see him be in denial of what he's dealing with—what does he have to be depressed over, after all? what trauma does he have to deal with?—and, crucially, we see him turn a corner and start to get better.

i think that's the magic of this story. sid manages to step outside of the black pit he's stuck in long enough to take steps to get help, and he meets someone who knows him and understands what he's going through, and they fall in love despite the obstacles in their way. it's a story about someone whose life isn't going the way they thought it would, but who manages to see that's not necessarily the end of the world, and for me at least reading this story gave me comfort and hope.

yes, it can be dark at times. life can be hard, so hard that it seems easier to just go back to bed and try and wait it out. but you also might meet someone who sees you, and knows you, and is there for you, and who you can see and know and support in return. there's light out there, if you can peek outside the curtain to look for it.

i hope you're all taking care of yourselves. be gentle with your own mind if you've been having a difficult time. reach out to the people who love you—they want to be there for you, even if you're hearing that little voice that says you're just a burden.

and if you're up to it, read this story, which will hopefully provide you a little comfort and escape and hope, like it does for me when i'm having bad days.

read it here on ao3!

and don't forget to leave a comment!

[petrichoraline]

how do you face failure? i've been trying to do this thing for two years now and it's just not working out, stopping now would feel like i just lost all this time and keep going would feel like i'm either completely delulu or afraid to go for something else... i'm struggling so bad i feel like i'm bad at everything and nothing will ever turn out good for me... this hopeless feeling is eating me alive i'm in my late 20s i have no idea what to do i'm sooooo useless lol

i want to start this off by sending you a warm hug and thanking for your patience <3 please proceed

you're not a failure for struggling. you're not a failure for things not going the way you wanted them to. whether you keep on this track or choose to try something else - you wouldn't be a failure.

your struggle is valid. fuck, who wouldn't struggle in your place? everybody goes through something like this, some deal with it better than other but a Big Choice is an inherent part of the adult human experience and it's hard, sometimes painful and we all Struggle through it.

right now you're in the fog. the fog prevents you from seeing where you begun - you don't clearly remember what was going on in your head when you set off on this path. you can't see anything in front of you either, you can only tell there are other paths on the side which you could take, have you the wish.

you have a map with you but what good is it when you can't see further from your nose? this is your resource and yet you can't make use of it, why? because there's the fog. there are circumstances outside of your control- your reality is created by both your inner self (motivation, attitude, wishes) and outside influences. you cannot blame yourself for everything that happens for even if you want things to stop happening they will keep doing so - something always happens and that is not something to keep yourself responsible for so why would you put all this shame onto yourself for yet another thing that Just Is and isn't your responsibility? your responsibility is to commit and exhaust your resources - you care about this goal you've set enough for it to tear you apart but is it tearing you apart so much that you put your all into it? if you decide to take on a different path one thing that will nag at you is the thought that you're a quitter. on top of all the fear and energy you have to put into starting anew you're going to have this new conviction added to the list of insecurities that you can't bring something to its finish. giving it your all does not mean sacrificing your well being - it means not trying new approaches because of self doubt, throwing glances at other possibilities or being paralyzed by fear. the one thing you do not want to leave this part of your life with is regrets. the thing is there will always be "what if"s, every single choice you make will leave the road untaken as a what if. the dark shadow that may follow you after is regret and a regret's existence is dependant on you. the possibility, the other scenarios, the what ifs are a part of life - the pain in your chest though? that can be avoided if you step into your new ventures with the proper attitude.

so, about giving up - that in itself is not a dirty act. and if you do it knowing you did your best you're not going to feel dirty because of it. giving up is just letting go of what no longer serves you and might even be hurting you instead. you can give up on something and still not feel like a quitter and like you're less than only if you have certainty. but in the fog you can't have certainty about anything aside from what's in your heart and that's exactly where you have to build the conviction that things are as they should be, that what youre doing is right. the certainty you seek should not be in any future that lies ahead - that does not exist for anyone. but the certainty of your own abilities the certainty that whatever shit comes your way you can handle it, the feeling that you're gonna be okay no matter what you choose. and for that you have to believe in yourself.

you are feeling helpless because things are not working out as you wished and that has put you in a position from which you cannot see how capable you truly are. you are not incompetent, what you are is not confident. you have a flashlight but what use it is if it's broken? and it broke from all of these unpredictable turns of events, all these pressures both from people close to you and the burden you put on yourself which is getting heavier because there is no one to tell you that you are enough and already have everything at your disposal. even if there is someone trying to do so, you probably can't hear them anymore from the constant voice in your head telling you you're failing because you lack. and that voice is lying but it's just a part of you now and you take all that bullshit for a fact when it's not. "nothing will work out for you" - thats the asshole talking. ignore it, that is not a fact of life either and never will be. you are not failing, you are not useless, the fact that you care so much and try so hard and it hurt so much means you're so full of heart and desire and life and all of that energy can go outwards and be put into something that helps you.

"lost all this time" - you didn't lose it. you were there, present, during those two years. you were gaining information about the field, yourself, what sets you off, what motivates you, what your limits are. you were developing soft and hard skills on top of the field specific ones (assuming we're talking about a study-work situation). you didn't lose that time, you spent it. and what you gain from it depends on how open you are to learning from the information already available to you from this experience. do not be afraid of letting go of this goal just because you spent time on it - its okay to not finish something. not every project deserves your devotion, whether they do or not relies on you. it's like relationships - not every person is going to stay with you forever, most don't but that doesn't make the time spent with them less valuable.

I cannot tell you what choice to make - not only because we are, well, quite distant to each other haha, but because I am not you. even your closest person cannot make a decision for you. the responsibility is all yours and that sounds terrifying but it's also so powerful, having something depend solely on you.

you can go down a new path, it's exciting and brings you new opportunities to learn. but you have got to close the previous chapter with confidence. you cannot bring all that baggage with you, you've got more fog to fight. if you start something new you need to understand how truly valuable and capable you are beforehand and that you are not seeing yourself objectively.

you can keep going down the same path- you are not delusional for assuming that what you've set out to do could actually work out, it's a very real possibility. if you want to stay on the same route, you have to keep your head up high and trust that your commitment and effort are worth it. two years are a relatively small period of time in the grand scheme of things and some ventures simply take more time. and again, see your self value. I am telling you with absolute confidence that you are so much more talented than you think and you are able of things you can't even imagine achieving right now.

you are afraid of moving forward, you are afraid of stepping sideways, you are afraid of letting others down and not meeting expectations. you are paralyzed by fear but you are not stuck. you have to move - you can't stay on that spot on the path forever. take your time, think things through, look inwards, catch your breath and then take a step. the unknown is exactly that - unknown. you cannot focus on all the bad that could happen, you have got to look forward to all the good that lies ahead because there must be some good in each choice. it's all going to be okay, you need some patience, some love towards yourself and a bit of faith. you've got it, trust me. at some point in the future (whichever future that is) the fog will dissipate and you'll realise how many of your worries and concerns were just a product of your fear and have no reflection on the real world. so please believe in yourself a bit more, I know I do, immensely.

[minthe-lover]

Chapter 221 Anaylsis

I'd admit that most of my problems with this chapter are art related, so I'm gonna just skip over like 80% of my critics of that so It doesn't get repetitive. It's mainly just creepy hades faces, and awkward proportions that make him look like a lego figure in stop motion. Like look at this guy... he looks so awkward and... god his ass is really tiny.

Now the big art thing that I am going to talk about is how the simplified one colour and one note backgrounds has caused rs to basically shoot herself in the foot. Cause in the first few chapters the backgrounds where detailed enough that we could really visuals all the important areas. Artemis's house, Hades house and the underworld corp while we aren't given like maps of them but we have a good idea of the layout and space...

with persephone new apartment.. we don't get that. It's all this dark blue, we get one shot of the outside and then a few undetailed shots of the inside. How many rooms does this have, is it big or small? hades says it looks rundown... but why aren't we shown that? They leave the apartment to eat on the roof almost immediately, is that cause persephone doesn't have a dining space in her apartment.. it just reallys annoy me.

Then the next shot in what I thought was the apartment... was actually hades, I think this chapter would really really benefit from a few shot focusing on persephones apartment. If needed remove the whole 'joke' of the billboard and instead show up persephone apartment and have them eat inside to better show Persephones kitchen. Side note with how last chapter went... how is she gonna treat her neighbors...

Now I've said this before that I'll say it again I do like persephone getting her own apartment. It's a good idea not to have hades and persephone immediately be a married couple.. but I really wish rs did more with this. Persephone has missed out on far more then just owning her own apartment.. she only did at most a month of collage it would really help to show more that persephone is trying to be independent.

Now I just want to draw attention to this line.. and just the massive amount of disrespect it levels at hecate, while yes she was not technically queen.. but like come on hades. She's been helping you since you stared at king, she did most of the research and work in the last few chapters. She may not have shared the title but it's clear she was doing a fuck ton of work.

Lets talk about the most annoying line in this whole chapter! Just to make one thing clear persephone you where not coddled, you where a CHILD. Demeter was making sure you had an education and a safe place to grow up first before making you work! that is a completely understandable thing.. and the moment you were over 18 demeter let you go... she was worried for your safety in a world that has repeatedly abuse her and you've proven yourself in the past that you put your trust in the wrong individualizes.

You then had one conversation in ten years where demter outwardly praised out about how great you were doing… You didn't even talk about what you could do in the mortal realm. Before then you didn't have any experience and again were a collage student .. not exactly someone fit to step up to a important job like that… Like from the few flashback to the punishment.. it's clear you were struggling.

Also this line and how much it annoys me in relationship to demeter, because it's constantly brought up terrible demeter is for hiding stuff like the fertility goddess power from persephone as how she is bad and irredeemable... and when I was first read it I thought that is what it was referring to. I read it as people hid stuff from persephone to protect her... but persephone admiting that she understands it's a struggle, and that hades isn't a bad guy for hiding shit from her but you know her own mother doing stuff to protect her is a terrible person.

Now I want to get these analysis out before the next chapter does... so yeah this isn't as detailed or longer but.. eh.

[hoodoo12]

Selfsame

"Beetlejuice in a dress" occupied a lot of the brain, it is simply too difficult to get these out. They creep around the edges, you see. Skulking. Lying in wait.

Ready to pounce.

I only regret this had been finished on Elliott Maddox's birthday, but 2 days late isn't too bad. Thanks to the fantabulous @turtlepated and @seddoesstuff for doing a collab. It rocked.

NSFW. Mattoxjuice x reader.

Enjoy!

You come home from work tired, irritated, later than usual. It's dark in your apartment when you walk in, but you're familiar with the layout of course so it's no trouble to make your way to the kitchen to deposit your bags on the counter. 

All you want now is to kick off your shoes, change into your PJs, order some food and just become one with the couch until bedtime. 

It's dark in your room as well, but there's light coming in through the window from the lampposts outside. You slide your feet out of your shoes, unbuttoning your pants and letting them drop to the floor while stripping your shirt off over your head. Stepping out of your pants and tossing your discarded shirt to the floor, you reach around to unhook your bra. 

No sooner have you divested yourself of it than the air behind you shifts as a solid form just . . . appears where moments before there was nothing. Before you even have time to gasp, let alone turn to see what's there, a body is pressed fully against your back, and the feeling of the clothing against your bare skin makes you shiver as arms come around you, chilly but dexterous hands unapologetically fondling your breasts as the something, the someone presses their face into the side of your neck and gives a lascivious and deep inhale, letting it out in a long sigh. 

"Hi, baby. Miss me?"

The unexpected touch and bodily press had your heart in your throat, too startled to even cry out. The voice from the darkness was just this side of familiar. So were the hands groping you. 

You wanted to be scared, should be scared, but you’d had enough past experience with that touch that it negates a scream, even if that was what he wanted.

One strong arm--a third, technically--drags your hips back, forming a bar that traps you against the figure behind you. Drawing quick breaths, your heart beating too fast against your ribs, your lungs fill with old scents, almost familiar scents, though they had never been so . . . saturated. 

Moss and freshly disturbed gravedirt. A certain brand of cigarette that hasn't been sold in this world for at least fifty years. Something that carries a hint of the darkest part of the night, and sandalwood. Frankincense. Incenses burned for remembrance. For funerals. For death. The scents are so strong they almost feel like a thick film over your tongue. 

But it's impossible. It's been years--years, and this is impossible. 

He's been gone for too long. Hasn't answered any calls, no séance, no summoning. You've met your share of demons trying to find him again. 

How is he here now? Now, long after you've given up any hope of seeing him again? How the hell is he here now? 

A greedy hand cups the mound between your legs, freezing, cold as the grave. Twisting in his grasp, wanting to lay eyes on the specter who’d disappeared out of your life just when you were getting used to the idea of maybe, possibly, having a real thing with him, just when the idea of agreeing to marry him didn’t seem so implausible. It had to have been more than just lust. Lust didn’t make you truly consider giving him what he wanted. Lust wouldn’t have hurt so bad when he skipped out. Neither the hands on you or the tepid mouth on your skin wanted to release their hold, but you struggled enough to loosen them. Well, reaching backwards to grab his ass in return made him chuckle, and that helped too. It took longest to peel the fingers out from between your legs. The light from outside filtering through the curtains dimmed everything. Once finally managing to turn to face him, he looked different. Maybe your memory played tricks on you; it had been some time, after all. His beard was patchy again, not like a growth of moss on his jaw. He looked younger, somehow, too. Softer. And hadn’t his eyes been dark? His expression, however, surprised you most of all. He looked like he did when you first met him, ready to pounce, wanting any attention he could get. Now he still looked ready to pounce, but with less desperation. He looked hungry. Your stunned vocal cords managed to allow a croak of a word passed. “Beetlejuice . . . ?”

If you'd needed any confirmation of the identity of your spectre, the shudder that ran through his body at those syllables was it. His hands, having refound their purchase on your hips as if he couldn't bear to let you go, gripped you tighter, tight enough that you feel the cracked edges of his nails bite into your skin. A growl rumbled from his chest, and those eyes gleamed like terror in the dark. 

You can't believe it. You can't, can't fathom this, cannot wrap your mind around it. You can't believe that he's back. 

Your hand trembled as you raised it, hesitant to brush your fingers down his cheek. Round. Softer, not as gaunt, and his beard prickly under your fingertips. Emboldened by the gesture you caught the side of his face against your palm, and then raised the other, caught his face between your hands so that you could stare into him. 

"Beej, fuck, what--" 

"S'the plan, babe. So why don't we--" He leered forward, avaricious hands all over you again, clutching at every curve as if he could consume you by touch. By scent, as he buried his face against your neck, sucked breath after breath of you into his lungs. By taste, his tongue laved against your pulse and up your jaw. 

You held one another in identical poses now, mirrored, each one's hands gripping the other's face as if neither of you could bear to let go. 

There was starvation in his eyes, as he stared into yours. He licked his lips. 

"Fuck," you say again, a whisper. "Fuck, Beej, I--" 

"--missed you so fucking much," you spoke over each other in rushed whispers, taut in the dimness of your apartment. 

The moment hung. Stretched, suspended between you, between the intensity in both your gazes. And then it broke, as with a quiet roar, Beetlejuice crashed his mouth into yours.

Despite the difference in appearance between the specter standing before you and the one in your memory, the eagerness spiked with a drop of frantic in the kiss was the same. Once upon a time you’d gotten him to understand that softer kisses offered an intimacy that, while soft, conveyed just as much as raunchy shoving-a-tongue-as-far-down-someone’s-throat that he thought everyone expected. He’d regressed; he did his best to lick your tonsils. 

No matter. You wanted the same: to consume him. Only your pesky need for air forced you to take breaks, but after sipping just enough oxygen to keep you going you gave as good as you got: licking, sucking, moaning, wanting answers but not wanting to stop for them. 

Eventually the tiny breaths you stole couldn’t keep up with Beetlejuice’s relentlessness and dizziness forced you to slow. You clutched at him to remain upright. 

He continued to nuzzle close, his lips and tongue unable to stop. He did seem to remember that you needed to catch your breath. 

“My little breather,” he chuckled. 

The old nickname sent a shiver through you that settled in your belly, fanning the flame that had nestled there, making it stronger. Although most of your clothing had been discarded and he was still dressed in his favorite threadbare suit, his arousal was much more obvious than the tightened pebbles your nipples had become. 

If you had your wits about you you’d make some comment about how horny he must be, with that broomstick in his pants and all, but you were afraid the words would jumble incorrectly and he’d just laugh and disappear, then you’d wake up. Like this was all a dream that then descended into a nightmare. 

Questions and explanations and words could come later. After you came. After he came. That was what you should say! Only laughter escaped made it out of your mouth, however. 

Beetlejuice cocked his head, looking more feral than he had in a long time. “Let’s see what other sounds I can make you make, baby.”

He could make you make any sounds he wanted. You knew that. Hell, you thought about saying it, but words? Words were hard, and they got in the way of your tongue in his mouth, and they took so much effort to put together. He knew, anyway--prided himself on it, on the variety of noises he'd dragged from you. He seemed to delight in that. In pulling out moans and groans, eliciting whimpers and needy little cries. Equally delightful were the more embarrassing sounds--the sloppy wet sucking noises of your mouth on his cock, the gagging when he went too deep, the snort you get sometimes laughing too hard when he tickles you--any noise he can get from you. 

Reminders, for him, that you're alive--alive, and his, and you chose him. 

Too much thinking. Not enough thrusting. You grabbed him by the tattered lapels of his jacket and dragged him with you as you stepped backwards. You were angling for your bed, but you misjudged and wound up pressed against the wall instead. That's fine. That was more than fine.

He took the invitation without any encouragement, his hands at your hips to lift you up so that when his hips met yours, your legs wrapped easily around his waist, and his cloth-covered cock pressed against your needy core. You moaned out loud at this, and again when he ground into you, messily pressing you into the wall. You saw sparks each time the undulation of his hips into yours brought the rough edge of his fly against your clit. You tried to pull him even closer, dipping your head clumsily to kiss him. You missed the first time, landing against his cheek, the rough scratch of his beard a delightful new sensation against your lips. 

When you missed again, it was on purpose. You peppered kisses down his jaw as you forked your hands through his hair, anchoring his head and adjusting him as needed as you kissed every inch of his face. His hair flickered between pink and magenta now, the colors visible even in your grey-toned room, the wild locks knotted around your fingers an uneven gradient of colour. He nuzzled into the kisses, seeming to settle down, the edge smoothing off of his eagerness--until you shifted your hips and then he flared all prickly lust and frantic need. 

"Baby, babes, baby--please, s'been so long, c'mon, quit teasin', need you--" he babbled, the raspy edge to his voice rougher than usual, his hips jerking in little needy movements against yours.

You pulled his hair again so that you could kiss him, rough, hard--and he shuddered with a wild cry as you did, his entire body stiffening. 

He didn't stop. In fact, coming seemed to only drive his need higher, cranked the dial a bit more, made him that much more desperate. Interesting. 

Beetlejuice kissed you messily as he ground into you, his cock not even remotely softening as his teeth scraped across your lower lip. His hands on your hips moved you with him, dragged him into the rhythm he wanted. 

He ground himself in long smooth strokes, rubbing the length of himself against you, and then he would pause, to rub tiny teasing circles, smirking as you panted and writhed under him, as you arched your back trying to get him exactly where you wanted. He couldn't hide the trembling, though. The way he shook to have you so close, so near, in his arms, overwhelming him with your warmth, your scent, the sweet slickness soaking your panties and leaving an even bigger damp spot on the front of his pants. It was too much and he needed more. 

He stepped back, chuckled when you protested with a half-whine and a clumsy clutch at his shirt. 

"Easy, baby," he said like he wasn't the one salivating and twitching like an over-eager puppy.

"Easy," he repeated, and then he dropped to his knees. He held you up with ease, one hand on each thigh, spreading your legs almost uncomfortably wide. When he licked his lips, it was loud, a noisy smacking sound. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark as he consumed you first with his eager, greedy gaze. You wanted to squirm, but couldn't--not with the grip he had on you.

He hadn’t lost his unnatural strength, holding you off the floor in a position any living person would have struggled with. As it were, he looked up your body as if it were an altar, as if he worshipped you, even if the glint in his eyes was a touch more feral than would be considered safe. Maybe not a worshiper. Maybe more like a junkie looking for his next fix-- In the next moment, however, he proved how devoted he was as he shoved his face against your pussy. The thin satin of your panties was no deterrent. Beetlejuice sucked at your pussy through them, instantly turning them into a soggy mess. Each press of his tongue, as if doing his best to eat through them to get to you directly--not that you wanted to give him any ideas--translated into sparks of pleasure that radiated up from your groin. When he gave up trying to tongue-fuck you, he shifted his focus to finding your clit. That sent up fireworks through your gut. Realizing that the choked cry you made meant he’d found his target, he doubled down his efforts to suck and flick that nub of pure nerves. The combination of wet fabric and his determination made you writhe in his grasp. If you’d had the ability, you’d have trapped his head between your thighs, His grip spread you too widely, however. Bucking uselessly against his hands, not caring that his ragged fingernails dug into your skin, you lost balance. Only by catching yourself on his shoulders did you prevent this whole almost-impossible position from tumbling over. Now bent almost double with his face still at your pussy, you keened into his hair. “Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck fuck fuck--”“That’s the end goal, baby,” Beetlejuice replied from somewhere near your ear. His voice was as strained as yours. “But I want you to come for me first. Come on my mouth, I wanna taste you--I’ve missed eating you out--I want your pussy hot an’ wet when I fill you up--” Although he didn’t sound exactly the same as you remembered, the dirty intention matched. Somehow through the sodden fabric of your panties he managed to latch on to your clit, and the solid pressure on it undid you. Clutching his shoulders as tightly as he held your legs, you cried out wordlessly as you came. 

Beej groaned through every tremor and tremble with you. His breathing was as ragged as yours, for all that it was completely unnecessary. He littered praise across your skin, some of it too distorted to make out, if it was even English at all. Knowing him, it was equally likely he had slipped into some Underdark or Eldritch tongue. So long as he kept that tongue on your skin, it didn't matter. And he was quite keen to oblige. Too keen. 

It didn't take long at all until you were overestimated, half-sobbing and nails scratching at his scalp as you tried to arch your hips: into him, away from him, whatever it took to find relief from the relentless onslaught of his greedy lapping at your clit. 

"Beej, Beetlejjj-- stop, stahp--" 

You gasped and twitched. Each stroke and curl of his tongue sent another jolt of pleasure-pain through you, and your cheeks were streaked with tears. You could barely think, but you felt him shake his head. Despite his apparent denial, he did give you a break, changing tactics to long slow licks along your slit. He traced the flushed petals of your labia with the tip of his tongue, following each lovely curve as best he could through the sodden fabric of your ruined underwear.

The change was a relief, letting you sag back and catch your breath, though it still left you shuddering. It was a better stimulation now, building that heat up in your belly like the patient kindling of a fire. It gave you time to breathe, to whimper and moan and slowly begin to roll your hips against his face. 

You can feel his grin as much as you can hear it, as he gives a happy rumble. Self-satisfied, you'd call it had you the wherewithal to remember any kind of vocabulary.

"S'right, that's right baby, you just let ol' BJ take care of you." He never seemed to start talking, kept a running commentary through every lick and suck. His voice wasn't quite familiar to your ear, but the content hadn't changed even if the quality had and it was a comfortable feeling. 

You'd missed this. Missed him more than you wanted to admit. More than you cared to think about. Even if he wasn't exactly the same--and yeah, you were going to have to ask about that, among other things like where he'd been and why he'd been gone so long--it was still him, somehow. Still him, still so much the same despite how much he'd changed . . . 

"You're thinkin' too much," there was an edge to his voice that lingered somewhere between amusement and disapproval, and suddenly you couldn't think at all because he'd torn through your panties with his teeth and fixed every ounce of his attention to seemingly trying to suck your clit right out of your body.

It wasn't altogether pleasant, but again--in that pleasure-pain realm that left you hazy and shuddering. 

Your fingers tore at his hair, and it only seemed to encourage him. He left off your clit to lick and suck along the newly exposed skin of your pussy, not seeming to care about the shreds of material caught in his teeth. 

You were almost there, nearly over that thin cusp, tottering so close to a second climax . . . when he stopped. You cried out in disappointment, feeling that edge slip just out of reach when he pulled back, and gave him your best wounded look--or, tried. You thought that you probably looked more dumbfounded than pouty. 

Beetlejuice winked at you, and scooped you against him as he turned towards your bed.

"Sorry, babes, but I kinda wanna feel you around my cock when you come again." He didn't sound even remotely apologetic.

That ceased to matter when he laid you out on your bed, as careful as an artist laying down strokes on canvas. His hands roamed your naked body, stroked each curve and valley, with deliberate devotion. Kisses followed after, and you felt that lost orgasm building up again all too quickly.

He'd forgotten nothing: he seemed to have an uncanny sense for when you were right on that perfect tipping point, on the precipice of climax, and then the infuriating bastard would stop. Slow down. Move. Denying you release, until you felt nearly as desperate as he'd seemed before.

"Please, please, baby, I need--" you sobbed, and he swallowed it with relish, kissing you roughly and grinding his still-fucking-clothed cock against your hot core. It wasn't enough. It was not enough and he fucking knew it. You could have happily strangled him.

"Beetlejuice!" you cried out, frustrated and wanting. With the use of his full name, he stopped completely. “That’s twice now,” he rumbled in warning. Some part of your brain remained cognizant. You shot back in a sing-songy way, “Three times in a row, it must be spoken unbroken. Or did the rule change?” Beetlejuice stared down at your body splayed under him, pinned in place by his weight on your lower half. His eyes flashed--literally, a silver glimmer--and maybe you’d pushed back too hard, maybe with his physical change his attitude towards your sarcasm changed-- “You remembered.” His voice had softened. It contained a bit of wonderment, like he couldn’t quite believe someone cared enough to recall the particulars about that aspect of his personal hell, even if it was something that he told everyone all the time. “Yes . . . ?” you replied, puzzlement creeping in. The high he’d brought you too began to decline; you worried that you’d done something wrong--first by saying his name and now because for some reason knowing his rule . . . you didn’t know, broke something in him? He hadn’t stopped staring at you and a sudden jolt of fear raced through you. He was going to leave again! He was going to step into the ether, leaving your legs to drop to the floor and the only evidence that this wasn’t some kind of elaborate, explicit wet dream would be the destroyed panties still hanging in rags around your hips. Loathe to let that happen, scared that even thinking it would make it true, you locked your legs over his back and grabbed his arms. As if he couldn’t just fade at will. Your sudden movement, your octopus-like grappling him, chased whatever moment he was having away. “You’re the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cooed as if that was the sweetest endearment in the world. Giving himself a tiny shake, he returned to his lecherous self. This time he finally shredded your bra and latched on to a nipple that had softened. He teased it back to a peak with just the right amount of suction and direct pressure from his teeth. When you forced him off because it jumped the line of being too much, he left it spit-slick and aching, and then went for the other one. Although not quite as rough, he did keep the first stimulated by rolling it between his thumb and first finger, until you arched bodily and your throat was raw. He hadn’t neglected between your legs. The rough fabric of his pants rasped against your pussy; both helped and hindered by his still trapped cock. If he wasn’t careful, his demand that your next orgasm be while he was balls’ deep inside you wouldn’t happen. Keening wildly, you chased that feeling. His request wasn’t yours! He’d pushed you too far and you wanted to drop off the edge so you could free-fall in pleasure once more-- He stopped again, the bastard. 

The sharp curve of his toothy grin held an edge that you couldn't identify, almost like a warning--like he knew you'd been seeking to defy him. It made you flush unexpectedly, though whether it was a fresh rush of arousal or some kind of guilt was beyond your ken at the moment. 

You wriggled your hips to distract him, and gave him an arched brow. 

"I thought the plan here was to fuck me . . . did you forget where it goes while you were gone?" 

Beetlejuice snorted. 

"Not likely," he retorted as his hands caught the curve of your ass and pulled your hips up, off of the bed, and towards his. "Like I could forget a pussy as pretty as this--look't you, all sloppy sweet for me. For me." 

He echoed himself more softly, that wondering look creeping back into his face.

You wondered again, what he'd been doing all this time. Where'd he been. What had he been through? 

"Beej . . . ?" 

He shook himself, and when he flashed a grin at you this time, it was reckless and rushed. Impatient.

"How about we get you screamin' my name, huh?" 

He'd shifted gears again so quickly, you weren't prepared for the rapid zip of his fly and the suddenness with which he slammed his tepid cock into your scorching depths. 

"Fuckinghell!" You'd forgotten how cold he was, especially when he got you revved up this much before getting into you. He'd warm up quickly, dead flesh leeching the heat from your body, but that first stroke was a shock. 

Especially when he didn't take any time about it and bottomed out with that first stroke. He moaned louder than you did. You didn't realize it at first, your focus zeroed in as it was, but then his deep rough groan was impossible to ignore. It filled your skull, sent a shudder rolling through your body, and he moaned even louder as your cunt clenched around him in response.

Beetlejuice trembled all over, and you thought that maybe he would savor this, indulge in finally finally having his cock in you, relish this the way you wanted to--

--you thought wrong. 

He jerked, pulling his hips back just enough to that he could thrust forward again, seating himself deeply. Fast, hard, short strokes that kept him buried, that let him keep your slick heat wrapped around him, that left you keening and clawing at his back as the movement kept the head of his cock rubbing roughly against your inner walls. 

Your climax seized you completely and with no warning, ripping your voice from your throat and causing your body to clench around him hard, fast, and inexorable. You'd swear that your vision flickered, though it could have been the shitty lights in your apartment, and your ears were filled with a dull roar. Your head felt staticky and too tight, and heat fizzled through each of your nerves in steady waves. 

When you could open your eyes again, you opened them to the sight of him watching you, his face a mixture of fondness and awe.

A shaky smile managed to make its way onto your face inbetween your working for to catch your breath. Held up on rigid arms, the expression on his face was mostly lost in shadow. That would never do. He looked different, and you wanted to see him more clearly. Wiggling to dislodge him, knowing he’d never allow it if he truly didn’t want to, you promised you only wanted to return the favor; that you had so much pent-up arousal and you’d missed him so much that it would only be fair for you to do some of the work. Anything that you could think of, anything he wanted to hear just. He responded with a shit-eating grin, a “a’course, baby--you think I’m gonna miss out on the opportunity t’watch you ride my cock?” and a final thrust just because he could. Then he let you roll him over to his back. For a second you considered stripping him. To be able to see his face while you were on top of him plus the sheer debauchery of one of you being naked while the other clothed plus the incessent demand from your groin to be filled again equaled just climbing him like a striped tree to get into position. Taking his cock, slick from your pussy, you held him steady before dropping down onto him just as quickly as he’d filled you. The groan of pleasure that erupted from you rivaled his. Taking a moment just to savor the new position, you clenched his cock rhythmically just to pull more sounds from him. You then took your time to learn the limits of being atop him, using small movements. He opened his mouth to protest, starting with, “Jesus, just fuck me already--”You shoved the fingers covered with your own wet from his cock into his mouth. “Suck them,” you ordered. His eyes went wide. Even in the dim light now you could definitely tell they were a different color. No longer dark like an abyss, they were lighter. That gave you a different kind of shiver; light eyes could look just as menacing as dark, you discovered. As Beetlejuice eagerly complied with your command, licking and sucking your fingers like he’d been offered candy, you lifted yourself upward before dropping back down. This position reignited your nerve endings again, and with his cock stimulating your pussy while his tongue alighted ones in your digits, you fucked him hard and fast, just as he’d done with you.

Every rough jerk of your hips, every time you dropped down onto his cock, each tiny roll and gyration pulled a breathless sound from your throat. A whine. A moan. A full-throated groan and your head tossed backward, hair falling across your shoulders as you barreled recklessly towards climax.

Beej was torn between holding still under you, letting you use him for your pleasure, and chasing his own pleasure, jerking up into you like he couldn't hold still. Couldn't make up his mind. He sucked your fingers expertly, hungrily, coating them with his thick saliva, licking at each digit and swirling his tongue around them. You had the stray, random thought that he had to be amazing at sucking cock. Something to think about later. 

You eventually pulled your slick fingers from his mouth, thickly coated and sloppy, and you ran your fingers over your own nipple. His spit left your skin slippery as you teased yourself, pinched and rolled your nipple between thumb and forefinger as Beetlejuice watched hungrily. His face was an open book, a desperate want to replace your fingers with his mouth nakedly written across the pages.

"Fuck, babes, baby--fuck me, you're so hot, got me so close, are you close? Are you gonna come for me, baby, c'mon just tell me what you need, wanna see you comin' all over my cock, just soak me baby," he rambled through panted breaths, his hands clutching your hips to help you find just the right angle, the one that let him hit that place deep in you while you ground your clit into his pelvic bone. The way that made you burn hot, hot, hotter, until you were gasping, sucking in breath after ragged breath and your eyes were rolling into the back of your skull. Until you were coming so hard that you screamed, damn what the neighbours would think, your ears ringing and your nipples so tight they ached, your whole body clenching and rippling with each wave of blinding pleasure. 

By the time it settled to aftershocks, tremors and shivers of residual pleasure sneaking through each limb, you were a sweaty, sopping mess, sagged against his chest and struggling to catch your breath. He held you loosely, his own breathing shaky, and a loose tremor running through his fingers. 

"Goddamn baby . . . you . . . you still got it." He laughed, soft and rough against your ear, as his arms tightened around you.

You managed a chuckle that rasped in your throat. At least the chill of his body had stayed the same, even if he seemed a close facsimile of the specter you knew. Not a twin, not a clone. Beetlejuice, but different. 

Good different, since he still had all the tricks and dirty talk to get you--and keep you--going until you did just as he’d asked: drenched him in your orgasm. You could feel the wet coating your own thighs and knew from past experience he’d be dripping too. 

A sudden start jerked you out of your residual bliss. You looked down at him with eyes now fully adjusted to the dark. His features were still this side of unfamiliar, but actions speak louder than words. Or bone structure. 

"We aren't done yet," you purred in your sultriest voice, like he cared about that. You knew he did care, however, about the subtle gyration you made with your pelvis, keeping his cock deep inside you. "It’s your turn to come and I want it to be so good for you--" 

"You think it wasn’t, sugar?" he interrupted with a grin lifting the corners of his mouth. 

" . . . What?" You felt slow. Beetlejuice tugged you back down onto his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple. 

"Being back here with you, watching you above me, your sweet pussy so tight . . . baby, I already came," he replied. The eager expression on your face melted to ashamed embarrassment. Once again you pulled back enough to look him in the face.

“Oh my god. Are you serious? You're serious. You came and I didn't know?! Beej, oh my god--I'm so sorry!" He looked genuinely puzzled. "What for, baby? I loved that you were so gone you didn't notice. It was so fucking hot, you taking exactly what you wanted from me." In the dark, you searched his eyes for any inkling that was just word service. He continued with a chuckle, "I mean, not to brag or anything, but did you think all that sloppy wetness down there was from you? I busted a nut so hard I think my balls shrunk." Snorting a laugh and shaking your head, you settled back down on him. “I just like to feel you come in me, is all,” you admitted quietly. “And I didn’t get to see your face do that thing when you come.” “What thing?” “You know. It kind of wrinkles up because your eyes close so tight. And your lip always pulls up off your teeth but your jaw’s always loose.” “Sounds like something the Maitlands woulda considered a scary face.” “Yeah, they’d certainly think your ‘O’ face was terrifying.” “Hey now!” You took a chunk of his bare chest between your teeth lightly to soften the tease but you knew he wasn’t insulted when he said, 

“You’ll get plenty of chances to see that again, baby. Soon, actually, if you’re gonna be ready for another go round.” That would be fun. You were tired, however. Just laying here in the dark, sweat slowly evaporating from you, your groin a sticky mess and a pleasant ache in your pussy, was more than enough at the moment.

His arms wrapped over you to keep you exactly where you were draped over him, and every now and then he kissed you. This was the perfect moment to ask where he’d been and why he’d left, and that you missed him. Eventually you'd remember you were hungry and would need to washup, but for now it was nice to just lay here. You'd stay till his cock slipped out of you, then make decisions about what was next.

fin!

[dabilove27]

How Far We've Come

Paring: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Smut (female-receiving oral), A Cocky Dabi, Cussing, A lot of Pet Names

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile Apocalypse Collab! If you have the time check out some of the other amazing pieces! Everyone has worked so hard to make some beautiful fics!

Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading, encouraging, brainstorming, and helping me the whole way from start to finish. I have said it before but I will say it again. You are absolutely amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without you! 💜 Also thank you @/deathcab4daddy (not sure if you want to be tagged) for taking the time to read through and for your advice!

You've seen all those movies, the decaying zombie hoards, the massive explosions that wipe out nations, or an unexpected illness that mysteriously kills off the population. But you had never really expected for any of those apocalyptic things to become true in your own world.  They were just fiction, never something that could actually occur. Yet here you are faced with the reality of a hoard of rotting zombies. Like you have been thrown into one of the many movies or TV shows yourself.

People aren't even sure how it happened, especially in a world full of quirks where this should be somewhat controlled, right? Wrong, whatever caused this zombie apocalypse also seemed to nullify quirks over time. There was so much speculation whether it came into the water supply or passed through the air. But none of that really seems to matter anymore when you are fighting for your life every day.

And as the mass of decaying, walking corpses steps closer and closer to you, it seems like your end is near too. The smell of organs exposed to the air and sun stink up the room.  You can see the blank, milky white eyes of the undead that somehow can still find you even though they can't really see.  You've had a partner, at least—the man who has stood with you during this entire shit show.

He stands close to you, a single rusted knife covered in stagnant blood, not nearly enough even combined with whatever you could find for fighting off the seemingly endless mindless bodies coming your way. He's covered in burn scars and rusted staples that pull at his healthy skin. People used to jab at him for looking like the walking dead before all this went down.  His firepower from before would have solved this problem in an instant. This rotting mob wouldn't have stood a chance.

But instead, it looks like it's the conclusion for the two of you. Memories flash through your mind. A memory of escaping the daily struggle of your mundane life by sharing take-out on your old couch.  Or how his kisses always felt like burning flames against your lips.  Your regular life consisted of trying to numb the pain of the past with alcohol or working endless hours.  Even though you didn’t have a traditional relationship where you could go on public dates, being in a relationship with a well-known villain was worlds better than this. But if you were going to die, at least it was together. Solidarity in times like this seems to help the never-ending dread that the Reaper looming around every corner ready to take you.  Every moment in this new hell had you wished you had more time to develop your romance with him instead of the tragedy that was about to befall you. You wished you had more time with this romance and that it wouldn't end in tragedy. It's hard to believe that there was ever a time when you couldn't stand this man, but even now, that's a fond memory for you.  You would give anything to return to that old bar where the two of you met and relive all of these memories.

It really isn't a surprise that you met Dabi in a dark, run-down bar near Kamino.  No, not the "bar" run by Kurogiri; everyone who lived in this area knew that it was just a setup. This bar is a tiny little hole in the wall with paint chipping off the walls and where the seats were hardly held together anymore, but that didn't really matter to people who lived in this area. You didn't come to this bar for a luxury experience.

The main reason people came to this bar was its location.  It sat deep in a seedy area which meant no police patrolling nearby so you wouldn’t need to look over your shoulder constantly.  Plus, the cheap liquor was enticing enough.

Every Friday night, you were perched on one of the worn-out bar stools as you nursed your gin and tonic.  This was your place to unwind after another hellish week of your mundane job.  It was still early enough in the evening that the bar wasn't thoroughly packed with bodies trying to get their drink.  The music was still soft,  later it would blare whatever song was currently sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. You were able to turn your brain off and listen to other patrons' mindless chatter in the background.  You could just sip your drink, maybe take a shot or two if you felt like, and then head home to pass out.

You relished this little getaway, an oasis in the slums that made up your small world.  The bartender and regular patrons didn't bother you, so you could have your own peace.  But your Eden got interrupted by a cocky, fire-wielding asshole who had set his sights on you.

You didn't stir when said asshole plopped himself down in the barstool next to you with a thump.  It wasn't until the jerk actually spoke to you that you were brought out of your mindless daydreaming.

"Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing in a place like this?"  He said with a smooth tone.  You didn't even have to look at him to know he had an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is? The irritated thought instantly pops into your head.  Anyone who frequented this bar knew you were from around here.  You weren't some soft, delicate flower that wasn't supposed to be "on this side of town."  Preparing yourself by putting on your best "I'm not interested face," you maneuvered your body to face him, ready to tell him off.

Your words caught in your throat as your eyes met his two endless pools of cerulean.  Your gaze shifted to take in the burnt skin clinging onto the shining staples that were rooted in his healthy skin. A familiar black coat spread across his frame that was even more recognizable than those eyes, and the patronizing smile that you wanted to slap off his face. As much as you wanted to throw up your middle finger at him and tell him off, you knew who this was. Hell, everyone knew who this was.

The League of Villains didn't necessarily keep quiet around here. They didn't have to. This is the area where they recruited people to join them. You didn't just flick off and ignore a LOV member. Especially the infamous Dabi, who wasn't really known for his kindness or compassion. More for his ability to burn anyone who defied The League to a crumbling crisp.

But still, who did this asshole think he is? Waltzing in here like he owned it and saddling down into your escape from the world only to tell you that you don't look like you should be here?  Fuck that nonsense, League member or not.

You swallow down a bit of the initial anger as your eyes narrow into a glare at the cocky asshole.  "Thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in being involved with the League. So if you don't mind going somewhere else to scout, that would be great." You try to say without a tremble in your voice as you wave your hand in a "shoo" motion.

You aren't sure what you expect Dabi to do next., burn down the whole bar you included? Tell you that you have no choice but to join, and you're coming with him? Rip you out of your seat and reprimand you for disrespecting The League? But instead, none of those things happen.  Instead, he does something you don't expect, and his grin grows a little wider as the staples begin to pull more at his healthy flesh.

You can feel your anxiety rising. Get out, get out, get out, this asshole will kill you, leave NOW, your mind is practically sending off every warning signal it can.

Your chest tightens when Dabi lets out a low chuckle. "Oh no, sweetheart, you've got it all wrong."  He says with a dark tone. "I'm not recruiting you for work. My interest in you is personal."  Dabi points at you and then at himself and finishes with an infuriating smirk that seems to be mocking you.  He's moved his hand and placed it on your forearm that was resting on the smooth bar top.

A shiver runs through you as the mismatched textures of his skin and the cool metal of the staples.  You feel your anger bubbling up again.  How dare this jerk think that you will just fall for him like a desperate fangirl.  You are livid at this point, frustration coursing through your veins, fuck the niceties and preservation. He needed to be put in his place.

"I know you think you are some big shot because The League is doing so well right now but fuck off asshole.  I'm not a League groupie that will just kneel down and suck your dick just because you want it." You spit out at him while shrugging off his hand and moving your body to face the way you were initially sitting. Grasping your drink and lifting it to your lips, you try and down what was left so you could leave immediately, any extra moment around Dabi was a moment you didn't want to have.

You were sure Dabi would have given up or at least killed you by now. You can't imagine that he is used to being rejected by women.  He's handsome in a way that doesn't fit with the norm.  He fills in that bad boy check-list like it's his job, which it practically is given his profession.  Again though, Dabi surprises you with his response. He doesn't yell, he doesn't use his quirk, and he doesn't kill you. He lets out another dark chuckle like he's enjoying this and continues the conversation you had tried to cut off.

"I didn't say anything about sucking dick, but if you're offering, who am I to turn down a gift?"  That smooth tone is back as he moves his hand to your hair and runs it through his fingers.

Bewilderment overcomes you, and you can't even stop yourself before you are turned towards him again, glass in your hand, ready to throw what's left of your drink on him.

As if he anticipated the response, Dabi moves quickly and grabs your wrist in a tight grip.  "Now, why would you want to waste what you have left, doll? That's not a very smart choice." His grip tightens a little more around your wrist, and you can feel the staples begin to dig into your skin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He moves your hand back down to the bar but doesn't let go even after your glass has left your hand.  "There we go, good girl.  Now let's talk just a bit." He says sweetly, loosening his grip just a bit, but not enough for you to move your hand.

If looks could kill, Dabi would have died a cruel death by now. You are seething at this point.  But instead, you're stuck there as he continues to do whatever it is that he’s trying to accomplish.  "What were you drinking?  I'll buy you another one and then leave, okay doll?"  He says playfully and with a cunning grin on his face as you mumble out your drink order.  You just want him to leave, and you really hope he plans on keeping his word.

Dabi motions for the bartender's attention, gives your drink order and plops a few bills on the bartop. He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and each and every moment he is even touching you, you can feel your annoyance continuing to build.  You want to ask him if he's done yet and will kindly get the fuck out, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes the cat and mouse game, which would just lengthen the amount of time he sticks around.

The bartender finally delivers your drink, and it takes everything in you not to rip your wrist out of his grasp and grab the new glass to pour over Dabi's head.  "Okay, one last question, and then I'll leave."  He drawls out as you put all your focus into the condensation forming on your glass.  You stay silent, waiting for his stupid question so you can move on and never see him again.  Dabi continues with that condesending tone that is starting to cause your head to ache, "How often do you come here? I'd love to see you again."

Your heartbeat picks up, and little shots of adrenaline start to flow through you as you contemplate how to respond. Of course, you don't want this asshole to know when you come here. This is your escape from the world. You never want to even see Dabi again,  but something from this interaction tells you Dabi isn't going to give up easily. So you tell him your regular time that you show up at the bar every Friday.

Dabi squeezes your wrist a little bit before letting out another "Good girl, sounds like a date.  I'll see you then." You never want him to know how those few words send a shiver down your spine. He saunters out of the bar without having a single drink himself. Patrons stare dumbfounded between you and the doorway that Dabi just exited, trying to comprehend what just happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh before leaning your head down into your folded arms.  The bar top isn't necessarily the cleanest of places to lay your head, but it’s pounding and racing with thoughts, and you can't really bring yourself to care right now.  You try to formulate a plan so you won't ever see him. You'll just move your regular day to Saturday instead of Fridays.  But then that stubborn anger flares inside of you again, and you sit up straight, glancing at your newly unwanted drink as the ice slowly melts, lifting the remaining liquid in the cup.  No, I'm not going to let that asshole ruin my spot for me.  He can come around here every Friday, but I'll turn that jerk down a million times. You think a little smugly to yourself.  We will see how the big bad Dabi feels being turned down over and over.  Maybe that will sting his ego.

And so you and Dabi play this game of cat and mouse. He comes every Friday when you are there without fail, buying you a drink, chatting to you with sentences filled with pet names, and planning another "date" each time.  And every time you tell him you aren't interested or to go away, or really anything to try and get that stupid fucking smirk off his face.  But it always remains cemented there as he watches you get fired up.  And what you don't realize is the two of you are getting to know each other.  Dabi adds in little questions, "what's your favorite food, least favorite, what do you do for work?"  And the questions go on and on.  You don't realize your walls coming down as the two of you find similarities in each other.  And if there is one thing anyone who sees these frequent interactions between the two of you can say, it is that Dabi is determined.

You are so used to Dabi's Friday visits that they don't bring headaches anymore, and you realize something more has developed when he doesn't show up one week.  A mixture of feelings rests in you, anxiety, confusion, anger.  You wonder if he's okay, or has he finally given up.  And then anger if he has.  You don't want to admit it, but you miss his company, and you don't even have a number to reach out to him.  You feel a sense of loss in your chest.  How could he just give up?  He's been trying for months!  You think as tears begin to sting for a moment in your eyes.

You leave the bar that night not feeling uplifted or relaxed but sad and angry.  And you aren't necessarily looking forward to returning the week after, but you do come back to your regular spot and hope Dabi will show.  Your heart almost stops in your chest when you see him walk through the entrance of the bar, and before you can contain the words, they tumble out in a frantic sound, "where were you last week?"  You are standing in front of him now, looking up at that little grin he always has on his face whenever you get annoyed with him.  You cross your arms over your chest and exclaim, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Aw, did you miss me, baby girl?"  His poker face never falls, but his grin grows a tiny bit wider as he stares into your fiery eyes.  And without warning, he wraps one of his long arms around you, pulling you into a tight side hug.

A small eep escapes you at the movement, and you move to push him off.  "What the hell are you doing? Answer my question, you jerk!" You practically yell as you push away from him.  He doesn't let go and just pulls you tighter to him, and you find yourself not struggling anymore as you take in the weathered texture of his coat pressed against your arm and the smell of cigarettes on him.  You feel your walls starting to fall entirely, "I was really concerned about you." You let out in a whisper, not really wanting to admit it to him, but you weren't sure how you would feel if something like this happened again.

"Aw, babe, you did miss me."  The delight in his voice makes you shiver a little.  He gestures you over to your regular spot at the bar, and the two of you sit down in the weathered chairs.  He puts a calloused finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his.  You stare into his cerulean depths that you used to hate and find yourself softening a bit.  "I had to do something for The League, but I don't have your number, love.  So I couldn't call and let you know I wouldn't make our date."  His face relaxes a bit as he watches your frown turn into a bit of pout.

"Okay, well fine, I'll give you my number.  But don't just text me randomly, okay?"  You huff as you lay your palm flat and motion for his phone.  Dabi chuckles and shakes his head before handing you the phone without another word.  Lifting the phone, you type your number into the cracked screen and hand it back to him.  "Okay, now text me, so I have yours. " You say, moving to grab your phone to wait for his upcoming text.

"Hmmm, I don't think so, doll,"  Dabi says, taking in your furrowed brow and then relishing in the way you roll your eyes at his taunting.

"Fine, whatever, Dabi.  Just text me next time you can't make it."  You say sourly while searching for the bartender to order your drink.  You don't want Dabi to see the slight sting of hurt in your eyes because he won't give you his.  The rest of the night goes as expected, drinking and talking, and you find yourself laughing more, not realizing how much you truly enjoyed this time with him.

The two of you depart with another hug, this one much shorter than the first, but you find yourself leaning into the warmth that radiates from him instead of wanting to push him off.  As you begin walking down the street home, you feel a buzz in your pocket.  Pulling out your phone, you unlock it to the message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey babe, see you same time next week - D

A small smile comes to your face as you type a response back.

The following year you grow in your relationship with Dabi.  There are never really any titles between the two of you.  Just that the two of you are together.  You never meet The League. Dabi is insistent you aren't involved with them in case things go awry.  But you spend a lot of time together when work or villain work doesn't take up the time.

Your relationship together comes to a head at the very start of the apocalypse.  The two of you sit snuggled together on your worn-out couch watching the news as a young reporter stands in front of a local research building in town and goes through the facts of citizens becoming "mindless and violent in a matter of hours."  And how they have people under lockdown who are experiencing symptoms of this "mysterious illness."

A slight shiver goes through you as the reporter goes on.  "That's really scary. No one knows what's causing it,"  you reflect aloud while you lean in closer into Dabi's outstretched arm that is resting around your shoulders.

"Aw, babe, don't be scared.  Those mindless fools wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to lay a hand on you while I'm there,"  Dabi says with a glint of amusement in his voice.  He always sounds so condescending, but you know it's the truth.  Remembering a time at the bar when a guy wouldn't take no for an answer-not that Dabi really followed that either- but Dabi didn't hesitate to let the guy know you were already taken.  He flirts and likes to jab a lot, but there’s a complete shift in the atmosphere when he's serious.

"Ugh, Dabi, you know I don't mean them attacking us. It's whatever is causing it that worries me. What happens if one of us gets it?  There's no cure right now,"  You say and worry your lower lip between your teeth.

Dabi picks up on your anxious state, and his cocky facade fades.  He pulls you on his lap so that you are fully facing him with legs pressed on either side of his.  Dabi holds one large hand on your waist, and the other he presses to your cheek.  Leaning your cheek further into his hand, Dabi moves his thumb to trace over the slight marks in your lip where your teeth were just placed.  "Hey, listen to me, nothing is going to happen, okay?  I won't let any of these maniacs hurt you, and we won't catch whatever they have,"  Dabi says tenderly as he gives you a small smile.

It's nice to see him like this- when his mask of superiority disappears, and he's focused on encouraging you.  It doesn't happen often because you like to keep walls.  Comfort from Dabi doesn’t need to happen often but you can’t say you don’t like it when he does.  You enjoy these softer moments with him that only you get to see.

You pull Dabi into a light kiss.  The gentle pressure of his mismatched lips fit seamlessly against yours.  You pull away after a moment to look into his deep blue eyes that now captivate you.  Dabi has that coy smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet your in that moment, it's like the horrible events of the world aren't happening anymore.  All that seems to exist is the two of you, not the TV still prattling in the background or even the noises outside your city window.

Dabi lightly caresses your cheek down to the length of your neck and finally ending near where your collarbones sit.  Everywhere he touches leaves behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin.  Even with these simple touches, you can feel yourself starting moving against him, trying to create a bit of friction.  Dabi knew how easily he could rile you up with simple touches.  It was frustrating at times, and you wished you could have the same effect on him.

"I love you, babe.  And no matter what, I won't let anything hurt you,"  Dabi tells you, and you swear his voice seems to be cracking, but the moment is gone before you can think about it.  Dabi lives on being mysterious most of the time, and you rarely get to see this vulnerable side of him.  Even if he doesn't say it behind that mask of cockiness, you can feel that there is fear of what's happening right now.  Or at least that's what you think the fear is from, but Dabi will never admit the fear is from losing you to whatever this is.  He isn't sure he could survive this hell of a life he's been given without you.

Your heart aches at his sincere words from earlier, and you whisper back, "I love you too, Dabi."  Drawing him into a more intense kiss.  Dabi begins to run his fingers along the hem of your t-shirt and delicately brushes the skin right under with his fingertips.  You feel a moan bubble up inside of you, but his mouth moving against yours swallows the sound.

"I want you so bad, doll.  Let's just forget what's going on right now, let the world fall away,"  he says in a husky voice after breaking away from the kiss.

You nod to him before letting out a content sigh and letting your eyes fall shut while Dabi continues to trace his hands over your body.  Dabi trails his massive heated hands under the thin shirt you are wearing and down to your hips.  You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as it begins to press against your clothed core.

Opening your eyes, you meet Dabi's half-lidded lustful eyes and bite your bottom lip and allow yourself to give into Dabi taking over you.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster, watching Dabi drink in every ounce of you.  Dabi is one of the only men you have ever trusted like this.  To have you so totally vulnerable.  It's strange how someone you didn't want anything to do with for months has become someone you rely on for everything- love, comfort, pleasure.

Dabi places open-mouthed kisses along your neck that leave you breathless.  "Fuck, I'm obsessed with every inch of you,"  Dabi growls out before returning to kissing and sucking your neck and exposed collar bone.

You grip Dabi's shoulder to ground you back from floating away into complete bliss and tip your head out to give him more access to your neck.  Dabi's mouth is like a flame that licks at your sensitive skin as he continues to trail his mouth all over.  You could be trapped in this pleasure forever.

Dabi grasps the back of your head and roughly brings your lips back to his.  With your mouths slotted against each other, you moan as Dabi finesses you to where you are lying on your back on the old couch, and he is hovering over you.

You break the kiss to quickly pull off his jacket and expose Dabi's scarred arms.  And just as you have only trusted Dabi fully with yourself, he has done the same.  Of course, the two of you have had sex with other people, mostly with lights off clothing still left on to hide the imperfections.  But with each other, there is no more hiding.

Heat begins to pool in your belly as you watch Dabi pull off your shorts and slide his warm hands all the way back up your leg and massage the plush skin of your thighs.  Once your shorts are removed, Dabi brings himself back to your face and, with a lustful sigh, traces kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Just relax and let me take you away from all of this, love.  I want to hear every sound you make." He growls as he moves down towards your pussy and lays himself between your spread legs.  Dabi lifts your thighs to rest on his shoulder as you let out a little gasp.  You can feel the excitement and heat rising in you.

Dabi kisses down the inside of your soft thighs and stops to suck at certain spots, leaving minor marks in their place.  He stops for a moment until you are looking directly into his captivating gaze, and then he licks a stripe up your pussy over the cotton of your underwear.  You let out a breathy moan at the sensation.   That jerk knows precisely what he's doing.

Dabi then grabs the thin material of your underwear and rips them away from your body with a tear. Groaning, you are about to curse at him for ruining another pair but are cut short when he sleekly licks up your folds. A delicate, playful moan leaves your separated lips.  Your eyes close, and you cling onto his white shirt to ground yourself.

"Baby girl, you're soaking wet," Dabi teases as if you weren't aware but cuts off any retort again with a quick suck to your aching clit. You can't hold back the loud moan that bubbles up in your throat.

Dabi smiles against your lower lips and continues his ministrations.   His mouth is open wide, so he can move back and forth from quickly licking up and down your sensitive pussy as well as suck softly on your clit.   You feel light-headed at the extended sensations, little whimpers and moans falling through your lips.  Dabi has always been able to leave you speechless with just his mouth.

"Dabi please," Your breathing hitches, and you moan out as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your small bud. You can feel that hot pressure building in your stomach as Dabi continues. He laps at you like you are holding the only source of liquid left in this world, his tongue working wonders on your dripping hole.

Dabi pulls back and looks up at you as you eagerly meet his blue eyes, begging him to continue.  He smirks before lowering his mouth back down and laps at your sopping core teasingly.  Fucking bastard.  Always a tease from day one.

Dabi licks his lips before returning to eating you out even faster as a series of cries and obscenities continue to fall out of your mouth.  You can't hold them back.  His mouth is so hot and wet against your core.

With another curse, you tell him you are close. A sigh escapes your lips, and your head tosses back onto the cushy arm of the couch.  Dabi pulls away but inserts two fingers inside of you in place of his mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me,  I want to taste you right now."  Dabi lets out with a rough voice filled with desire.  You whimper as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.  He smirks at your blissed-out face and then returns his mouth to your pussy.  His tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly as whines and cries continue to be let out of your mouth.  Back arching, you bite at your lip, barely able to even process the words that came out of Dabi just a moment ago.

"Oh, fuck, Dabi, please. Please, I'm gonna cum soon." The words fall from your lips, and your mind feels numb to everything except the feeling of Dabi's tongue on your pussy.

Dabi grunts and gives another hard suck to your clit before pulling away just a bit.  "Hell yeah, babe, come all over my face."

Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens with another cry as your legs begin to tremble as the tension starts to rise in your stomach. One more lick, and you know you'd come. Dabi's continued suckling of your clit sends you careening over the edge. Your cries fill the room, and your back arches as your legs try to squeeze around his head.  Dabi continues to suck and lick as you orgasm.  Panting and with your eyes twisted shut, you cling to his shirt as you start to come down.  A final curse gently leaves your mouth as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.  Dabi takes one last long slow lick before sitting back and wiping his face with the back of his hand.  You can't bring yourself to move from the couch, still panting and weak.

Your mind starts slowly coming back to you as the bliss begins to leave.  The realization of everything happening in the world washes over you.  But you were thankful Dabi took the time to distract you from the horrors of what's going on.  You move over so Dabi can cuddle with you on the couch.  It isn't much room, but it feels good to be this close with him, wrapped in each other's arms.  You both slowly start to drift off to sleep, but you don't miss Dabi's final words mumbled into your hair, "I'll never let anything happen to you."

Shortly after that, the world seems to descend into madness.  The illness grows more and more rampant.  People are getting infected every day.  Whether it's through the original source of contamination or by those contaminated biting or scratching someone.  Panic spreads throughout the country.  But through all of it, you and Dabi stick together.

From the moment it was declared an emergency Dabi was banging at your door, insisting the two of you find somewhere safer than your run-down apartment.  Because while the two of you needed sleep, whatever these things are could go non-stop, and your apartment was not fortified.

You and Dabi lost your quirks a month after the emergency declaration, along with the rest of the population. People couldn't fight these zombie-like creatures off anymore.  Like all the movies and TV shows, the bodies became more zombies than actual living people.

After a while of jumping around from a destroyed place to another, the two of you found yourself in an apartment building that had a sturdy enough entrance that the zombies couldn't break through.  The daily struggles were still hard, though. Finding food and water to survive became a daily task for the two of you.  Through all of this, he never left your side. He always insisted the two of you stay together.  And so you did.  Fighting the living dead, but sometimes the living too when things got even more terrible, and scavenging was your everyday routine now.

You lost track of time and could only follow when the seasons changed.  But Dabi was really the only thing getting you through this.  Seeing people destroy one another for food or shelter destroyed you inside.  Never knowing if these zombies you were killing were someone you had known at one point, or just another faceless dead person tore at every corner of your brain.  Dabi stayed strong for the two of you.  Holding you every night on the ripped blankets, you could gather for the strange bed the two of you slept in.  You would sob into his muscled chest about how you couldn't live in this world anymore, how you couldn't kill another person, alive or dead.

But Dabi would never let go.  He would hold you close and let your never-ending tears stain the only shirt he had now.  He would rub your back with his warm hands; even though his rusting staples would catch on your shirt and rip from his skin, he still did it.  He would hold you until you fell asleep, whispering how strong you were and how he could never do this without you.  And after all the tears, you were thankful too.  Because without him, you'd be dead or alone.  You knew that without Dabi, you would have never survived this long.

But you could see Dabi was hurting too.  You couldn't find supplies to treat his decaying skin.  He hid his daily pain from you, but when Dabi thought you weren't looking or listening, he would hiss at the pain of another staple pulling at his burnt skin or let out a huge sigh when he would try to put it back together, but it wouldn't cooperate.

The only hope the two of you held onto was each other and that possibly a cure would come soon.  Not that either you could really access that information with no electricity; there wasn't any way to get information other than hearsay.  You survived the best you could in this world.

And as much as this wasn't what you would have picked for either of you, at least you had each other.  You tried not to think of a time when you wouldn't be together, even though the chances of that happening were high- it hurt too much. To survive in this world without Dabi would be too fucking much.

It's almost as if fate chose to play a cruel game with the two of you.  It seemed like a "normal" trip out to scavenge for food and water.  The two of you had to expand your search area since places closer were mainly empty.

This time you found yourself outside of a convenience store, a reasonable distance away from your home.  It hadn't been completely destroyed by some miracle and was not overrun by the zombified people.  Still, in a state of decay, though, Dabi was quickly able to kick his heavy boots through the door and get the two of you in.

Sauntering through the gas station, you quickly begin to pick up canned food and stale bags of chips and shove them in your worn backpack.  Dabi is doing the same on other aisles until he lets out a chuckle.  "Hey babe, look what I found."  He says with a cocky voice holding up a few boxes of wrapped condoms above the aisle for you to see.

You roll your eyes.  "Thanks, Dabi. Is sex really what we want to be thinking about right now? Let's just get this shit and get out."  You let out with an annoyed huff and continue to push the limits of how much your bag can hold.

Dabi comes over to your aisle and snakes his arms around your waist with your back pressed to his chest.  He places his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear.  "Yes, all I can think about is getting your beautiful body back home and finally being able to finish in you, and with these, I can."  He lets out a dark chuckle as he pulls you closer against him and bucks  his hips playfully.

"Okay, horn dog, let's get this shit done, and then we can do whatever you want back home."  You let out with an eye roll.  It's hard to stay mad at him. You know he's trying to keep things light for you, to keep you happy because he can see how hard this is.  And his regular teasing is one way he knows will bring a smile to your face.

As you are finishing up trying to take inventory of anything else in the store that you can take back, you spot the clear plastic that holds the cartons of cigarettes behind the cashier counter.  While you didn't necessarily want Dabi smoking, you knew he missed the vice. Cigarettes were just as hard to find as medicine in this new world.  Smiling to yourself, you move behind the counter and reach for the plastic flap to lift it up.

As you try to lift the latch, it doesn't budge. You look around for what might be blocking it before seeing the tiny silver keyhole to one side of the compartment.  Crap, of course, it's locked.    You really wanted to surprise Dabi with this.  Maybe you still could. The key had to be here somewhere, right? You think while scanning around the counter.  You try searching through the counters for a hidden key but no luck.  Letting out a heavy sigh, you call Dabi over.

Dabi wanders over to your annoyed face and can't help but smile at your slight pout.  "I wanted to surprise you! But I can't open it. Can you get it, please?"  It comes out almost like a whine as you gesture to the cigarettes.

Dabi's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he pats the top of your head before saying, "My sweet doll.  Thank you for thinking of me. Let me help you out."  You could smack him, but instead, you watch as he hastily rips the plastic covering away and slips his hand below it to grab one of the wrapped cartons.

At that moment, everything changes.  The fun times the two of you were having shatters as a loud alarm rings through the store.  Panic floods your system as you stare at Dabi wide-eyed.  "There is no electricity. What's happening? There shouldn't be an alarm."  Horror is laced in your voice as words spill out of you.  Every walking corpse within miles will be here soon with the sound.

"Fuck, must have had a battery attachment. Come on, let's go."  Dabi's usual playfulness is gone as he abandons the cigarettes and grabs your hand.  He's grave now.  Getting the two of you out of here safely is his only goal.

You follow Dabi quickly, a hand grasped tightly in his as he runs towards the broken-down front door.   And that's when even more terror settles into you.  Zombies are pushing their way through the open door.  Their rotting bodies and white eyes focused on the area where the alarm is coming from.  There weren't many around when you broke in, but now it seems like they are multiplying by the moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Dabi curses under his breath, quickly turning around and pulling you towards the building's back exit.  You follow behind adrenaline surging through your veins fueled by your flight response.  Dabi grasps at the metal handle to the back door and shakes it only to find it locked.  "Damnit!"  he shouts before kicking the door violently.

Your heart is pounding, and you feel helpless as you stare at Dabi while he continues to slam himself at the door.  While the front door was glass and flimsier, this door was only budging slightly.  With all your focus on the door, you don't notice the continuously growing herd filtering into the gas station.  Not until you feel one brush against your shoulder.

Your eyes widen as you feel a scream bubbling in your throat.  This is it.   This is where the two of you die and either become fodder for a herd of living dead or turn into one yourself.   Your brain is pure panic as thoughts fly through faster than you can catch them.  You don't even realize you have screamed out Dabi's name until you see his face turn towards yours.

His typically blue eyes are almost entirely covered by his dark pupils as he takes in the monstrosities behind you.  But unlike you, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls out a knife he keeps in one of his pockets and slams it into the decaying skull of the zombie that is right behind you.  Splurts of dark blood hit your cheek as he pulls out the knife, and the creature behind you crumples to the floor.

"Keep trying the door! I'll keep them off you."  Dabi shouts, pulling you into the spot he previously stood.  Your heartbeat is so loud you can feel it in your head, and you can't even make a coherent response as you begin to slam your body against the solid surface.  You can feel it give a little more with each push of your body, and everything in you is screaming not to give up.  Doing your best not to glance at Dabi's grunting and movements as he continues to try and put down zombie after zombie.

You can't give up; this can't be the end . Desperately your brain is screaming as you continue to feel the door give more and more.  Your shoulder hurts from the continued impact, but you aren't letting it slow you down.  You can feel it; it's almost there.

Suddenly the door gives, and you can see the sun shining through on the other side.  You cry out in  relief and turn back to tell Dabi to come with you.  But as your eyes meet, fear fills every ounce of you.

He's still fighting them off, but there is a gaping bite wound on his right arm— rows of teeth marks embedded in his skin.  You feel like you're going to be sick. There is no coming back from this; there's no known cure.  At any point within the next twenty-four hours, he would be another one of the walking dead, no sense, no logic, and looking to consume others. This can't be happening, this can't be happening.  Your heart is sinking with every second that ticks by.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out! Get out!"  Dabi screams at you as he embeds his knife in another zombie.

"No, no, I can't leave without you!  I-we can find something.  I'll find something, please! Come on, Dabi, I can't do this without you!"  You are sobbing now, hot tears streaming through the dirt and blood mixed on your face.  An ache in your heart starts to form.  You know you don't know how to help him, but you'll do anything to not leave him behind.

Dabi lets out a grin despite the feral dead people closing in on him.  And gives you a wink before saying in a voice that seems too calm for the situation, "Come on, doll, you are the most intelligent person I know.  You have to go.  Live for us, babe.  Look at how far we've come.  Go show this world that it won't ever break you down. I love you, and I'll come to find you wherever you are in the afterlife and annoy the shit out of you.  Now go!"

It's like your heart is being ripped into a thousand pieces. Your breath comes out in short huffs, moving towards hyperventilating.  You want to go back to Dabi and cling on for dear life, but you won't let him die in vain.  Not after that speech.  That would be an insult to everything the two of you have overcome.  So with all your strength, you give your lover, the man who has come so far with you, the last look before letting out a final "I love you too" and burst out the door.

You don't look back, aching feet propelling you forward as tears continue to stream and fall off your face.  When you first met Dabi, you would have never thought you'd miss him.  But you will , you'll miss every snarky comment, every flirty glance, and the tender way only he has loved you.  The man that you were sure was just some asshole trying to get laid became the love of your life and sacrificed himself so you could live.  And you could never let that go to waste.

[vespertineart]

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'𝓫𝓪𝓭 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓲𝓽'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗."

Jotaro kujo x Fem! reader

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★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Life moves so fast. Too fast, for your liking. Maybe it's because your childhood wasn't the nicest, so you have wallowed in the sadness it brought you too much that you weren't aware of time, or the fact that you were so wrapped up in one future, you thought your life depended on nothing but academic purpose. At least then. Or maybe it's because you never realized how much you've wanted to do in your life until three years ago. You're still young, though a young adult, and you shouldn't be worried about the consequences of things you never did. Though, maybe they would affect you later on.

It's always been overwhelmingly depressing when you realize you can't relate to that flurrery feeling every one of your classmates told you about when bungee jumping or simply touching a manta ray. Never have you had the chance to visit a very famous amusement park because of how expensive it was. All of that would make you the odd one out in any friend group, which is why you never bothered to start a close friendship with someone.

However, this year was different. Let aside the fact that you missed out on all your school year's material, you experienced something far more exciting than anyone's ever had. Your mind still finds itself boggled by the sudden event. One second you're with your classmate who you knew nothing about at the time, and the next he's in jail, and you're with his grandfather trying nag get him out.

You can't even bring yourself to comprehend how you even got a grip on the whole situation, how you managed to have yourself thrown into the formula, from going to Egypt and saving Miss Holly, to fighting Dio and even almost dying with Kakyoin and Avdol who are currently in different hospitals. It all still feels so surreal.

Unconsciously, as you reminisce, your fingers brush the large scar that lays unveiled on the surface of your forearm, reaching from your wrist to your cheek, a few scabs still blanketing random edges on it. Soon, your hands found themselves reaching your currently broken and cast ankle. Your crutches lay limp on your leg. Your skin is cold, and so is the wind hitting it. For May, this is probably the longest it has taken to become warm.

"Oi, yn." You're snapped out of your daze when a certain deep voice calls out to you, a coherent tinge of worry trailing at the end of the person's greeting.

The all-familiar, stinging scent of cologne immediately assures you of who this person is. You let out a sigh, dipping your head down, eyes closed, a delightful sense of relief washing over you.

"Hey, Jojo. Thanks," you greet as you take a weak hold of the beer can your companion bought you. After a while of shuffling, both of you got your backs comfortable on the strong walls of the school's roof, taking in the cool wind as it brushes through your hair. The sun is set, but there is still a bit of sunlight left, it mixes beautifully with the soft white streetlights and spots of yellow, red and blue in the far distance which homes and billboards emit. If you focus enough, you can see a light silhouette of hills.

Jojo. Jotaro kujo. You recite that name on your tongue every night, sometimes in fear you might forget it. Some of his admirers despise you for it. For having the advantage of calling out to him whenever you want and he'd answer you, and only you. Your classmates say you're extremely lucky, like you've won a million-dollar bet for being his first and closest female friend. He's never down to open up, but from your experience, he's desperate for any type of companionship. However, the so-called advantages were never what this was all about for you. If it was, you'd know barely anything about each other, and you're glad you could become more than just classmates after the whole Egypt thing. To you, his friendship depended and revolved more around trust and means of comfort than just mainly using him for safety and assumed attention. The fact that he's truly a hard to crack shell of a man—that you somehow managed to turn into ash the moment you told him to 'get the fuck out of the jail room, you look ridiculous' —never mattered to you more than how closer you wish to get to him. Focusing in front of you again you watch the colors of the clouds merge with the dark purple of the sky. The stars are already out, and a beautiful half-moon is shining brighter than ever. You pout, disappointed of the incoming inability to see it in full display due to the sky's current cloudy state.

"Old man called me yesterday." You turned your head to Jotaro, eyes immediately locking with his. Just the simple fact that both of you go out of your ways to fully focus on each other makes your relationship all the more mutual. Jotaro, especially, he's never felt as easy with anyone as he has with you, and kakyoin, too, but he'd never say it directly to any of you . At night, when he's lost in his thought, he finds himself thinking of you. How kind you are and how you never seem to see the bad in anything despite having a bad past. He'd never admit it let alone say it with his tongue but he tries to take advantage of that kindness, in a way to make sure nothing will happen to you. He can't afford to lose anyone else. He also doesn't know if the fact that he thinks of you is more embarrassing, or the fact that he secretly wants to let his walls down in front of you one day. The thought comforts him, but, as usual, he's too meek about it, since there were many times his 'kindness' would be misunderstood as romantic intent. Well, he's doubting that, anyways, specifically with you.

"hm?" you reply, taking a sip of the refreshing drink in your hand. Your fingers wrap around each other, holding the can in a tight and secure grip. You're prone to dropping your drinks now and then, so you found this to be the most practical way of 'protecting them'. Yes, you look stupid when you end up dropping them either way. You two always get a good laugh from it, so at least there isn't any embarrassment happening.

"He was wondering if you wanted to stay with us for a couple more weeks. Mom misses you already." Jotaro exhales, smoke filling the air around you and mixing with his musky cologne to create an unbearable scent you never wanted to forget. The mention of Mr. Joestar for the third time this month makes your eyes widen. It was all for the same reason too. You lived alone for a long time now, and you've gotten very used to the lonely and eerie feeling of your dark home at night. However, of course, after meeting the Joestars, Joseph couldn't possibly leave you without pampering you so much, especially after helping with saving his precious daughter. You were grateful. You always are for what he does for you, but just enough for him to make you basically live with him is something you can't quite afford. Not money-wise, it's just that you don't have anything to give them in return, and offering your life also meant living with them. The cycle goes on.

With a grunt, you twist your form to face Jotaro, your hands pushing hard on the floor to support your frail physique.

"Jojo...I really appreciate it, but I have things to do at my house. I need to clean it, take care of the food that's been in the fridge for almost a month now. Maybe another time, but I really don't want to trouble you guys like this. You've done way too much for me already," you excuse, trying your best to scoot closer to your friend. As a final task for the day, you set yourself up on your knees and wrap your arms around the much larger man, patting him on the back a couple of times before planting a heavy peck on his forehead. "And you can stop worrying about me so much now, Joot. I'm really fine, thanks to you." A warm smile graces your lips as you speak your soft words to Jotaro, seeing his panicked eyes slowly close as he scoffs, pushing you away and hiding his rose-tinted face with the shadow of his hat.

"I'm still walking you home."

As much as you want to, you can't complain with a broken ankle. Who knows what might happen if you're too slow with walking? Over his dead body will Jotaro Kujo let anyone lay a finger on you...

~~~~~~~~~

The slow crunching of pebble and dust under heavy boots and the repetitive melody of crickets in the grass is enough to get you woozy in the freezing weather of tonight. The wind started picking up a long while ago, and you fear it might get worse before you reach your home. Clouds are grey and dull as they sway in a quick pace in the blue-black sky. The vigorous rustling of trees makes your ears tingle. Your pores are open with sweat, the droplets slowly trickling down your face and quickly drying out. Your arms over your crutches, your stomach hurting from excessive contraction, your breath becomes heavy, and your chest begins to hurt. It's been well over 20 minutes since you guys have been walking, and you're starting to hate yourself for letting Jotaro deal with your snail-paced struggle on a day like this.

Without a word, you sigh, then slowly crouch down to reach the floor. However, from how your ankle is positioned, the momentum you pushed yourself down with was faster than you anticipated, and you gasp. Bracing yourself for impact, you let go of your crutches hastily, spreading your arms in front of you to prepare support. Your eyes close tightly and you clench your stomach, a second away from hitting the concrete before feeling a soft barrier holding you up. Slowly, you open your eyes again, to find none other than Jotaro, encasing you in his large, jacket-cushioned arms. Without a chance to react, you feel yourself getting pulled up, hoisted up a millimeter high and huddled in your friend's arms again only this time in a better position for him to be able to swing your legs over to the side.

"Good grief, woman. What the hell were you doing?!" At this position, you can clearly hear the growl in Jotaro's voice. Heck, his breath is right in your ear. Inevitably, you shiver, letting out a huff of air. You feel yourself blush out of embarrassment when he gives you a side eye and you prepare to find a good answer to his question.

"Sorry, I wanted to sit down a bit...I uh..wasnt expecting to...fall-"

"Whatever, just stop talking or you'll die. And you're freezing ," Jotaro interrupts, leaning down to grab your crutches, still holding onto you. His head rests on your shoulder as he bends down, his fingers curling with ease around the handles.

Still shocked from the sudden ordeal, you start shuffling in Jotaro's arms, earning a grunt from him.

"Stay still, yn, for fuck's sake!"

"I-I can still walk on my own, JoJo!"

Annoyingly, or rather, smugly, Jotaro ignores your comment, only dragging his disagreement further by hoisting you up further so your figure is tucked snuggly between his arms. This proves his previous comment of how cold you actually are, seeing as you immediately melt into his arms, eyes almost instantly closing as you sigh, taking in the comfortable warmth of the thick fabric of his clothes.

when you look back at him, you decide not to complain any more when he raises an eyebrow at you and lets out chuckle. You just stare at the fading stars, keeping the image of his rare smile in your head along your little journey.

As you space out, your eyes having no place to stay still as the clouds move endlessly, you shake your head, feeling the pain in the back of your head from how dizzy you've become. This world is too big for even eyes to bear. you let out a mall sigh, the incoming comfort quickly cut off as you gasp. A wet droplet found its way on your nose uninvited. You look at Jotaro, expecting to see his face dotted with a bit if sweat, but that wasn't the case. Another droplet, and a third, and soon you see one slip off from Jotaro's hat. Oh... Ooooh...

Oh shit.

You gasp once more, suddenly sitting up and causing Jotaro to retract his head with a grunt.

"What the hell?!"

"Jojo it's raining!"

"And..?! Jeez you overreact."

With a pout, you hit the top of your friend's head, earning a stutter from him.

"C-can you walk a bit faster..? I can't have you getting sick, " you complain, clutching onto the chain dangling from JoJo's collar as a way to nudge him into agreeing to your order.

"That's not happening, y/n just sit back down-" As if to mock him, the clouds let out a loud clap of thunder, The rain quickly picking up with the wind. As fast as this happened, you and Jotaro are now almost drenched in water. You cross your arms, looking up at Mcedgy with a smug expression on your face.

He sighs heavily, tugging the brim of his hat and letting out his famous

"Good grief..." before wrapping his jacket around you like a stolen package and trudging quickly. A few moments pass before he starts to run.

Surprisingly, your house isn't that far away anymore. You'd expect that from someone twice your height running. Currently, your friend is huffing, occasionally spitting excess water away from his mouth.

"We're here."

He stops running, just jogging his way around a building before setting you down on the floor, waiting until you regained balance to give you your crutches back. You hiss at how cold the air is, your body quickly shivering.

You quickly find your keys from your pocket before limping to your front door and opening it with a satisfying click, taking your single wet shoe off and stepping into your house, again, cringing because of how cold the floor has gotten. As you manage to trudge to pull a shawl you found hanging on a chair, you turn back to the door, facing Jotaro again.

"Thanks for walking me here JoJo. It was definitely a pain, I'm sorry," you apologize, a wide smile on your face, rubbing the back of your neck.

"It's fine," says Jojo, already lighting his third cigarette of the day and placing it between his lips.

There's a long silence between the two of you, the heavy sound of rain and occasional thunder being the only thing breaking it. Your breaths are heavy because of the weather, and you do nothing but stare at each other. It seems none of you want to turn away for some reason. both of you are worried for each other. It takes another while before any of you finally move, Jotaro shuffling off of the steps in front of your door and turning around with a small farewell.

You, knocked out of your trance, call out to him again, making him stop. Now in your garden, completely soaked, Jotaro turns his head to you. His cigarette is barely lit anymore.

"Umm...I just realized your house is too far away," you start, catching your friend's attention. He slowly walks back to you, shoving his hands in his pockets. He only hums in response.

"Uh...I just...don't want you walking all that way again, and further so why-"

"I'm not coming inside your house," Jotaro cuts you off, causing you to stutter and blink a couple of times. However, you've already made up your mind and there's no way you're turning back now.

"No, JoJo, you are, and I'm serious right now!," you protest, trying your best to sound strict as you walk to take a hold of Jotaro's arm with your free one and pulling him under the dry safety of your door. When he realized he stepped in with his shoes, he quickly retreats, pulling on his hat and looking away.

"JoJo...!"

Jeez, you're so naïve. Little do you know, Jotaro is only concerned about causing you any harm. He'd rather shrivel up and die from hypothermia than have you affected by him. But...refusing is never an option with you at this point. If anything, he doubts you won't end up following him until he's already at his own house, still trying to nag him further. He grunts, shaking his head then looking back to you.

"Jesus, fine."

Your face quickly lights up with a smile, and you drag Jotaro inside your house —with a limp—and make him take his jacket off. As much as he somewhat doesn't want to be here, Jotaro sighs in relief, shuddering at the warmth of your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

{2901 words}

This is just something to start writing here. I'm not sure how to feel about it but I hope you like it lol, you can imagine what happens next. this seems very random and messy, which it is but I promise I'll come back with better content lmfao.

--Poppie

[toomanyfandoms02]

Love at First Sight

This is NOT my usual content, and I'm sorry about that. But for my followers who are possibly interested in my personal life, I have a little background for you in the romantic department. I'm to a point where I think I need to just put this out there and let the universe take care of it for me so, here goes nothing.

I'm convinced that I met the real-life version of JJ Maybank (but this means much less of a man hoe). A traveling, weed-smoking, understanding gentleman that happened to be within arms reach this while time. My very own JJ Maybank was RIGHT THERE IN MY BEST FRIENDS FAMILY FOREVER.

I didn't believe in love at first sight, I really didn't. My love life is kind of a struggle. For a while, I blamed it on commitment issues. Then decided maybe I was just *scared*.

The first (and only) boy I ever fell in love with was a year above me. Every girl in theatre (and out of theatre) swooned over him. He was the definition of perfection.

6'1, thick dark hair, dark green eyes with an absolutely sculpted body. He had the voice of an angel and dance moves to get any sad-spirited person moving.

That's not particularly what I cared about, but this story isn't about him.

The next boy I was romantically involved with was a good friend of mine. We had an obvious connection (though I didn't realize it was a *friend* kind of connection). I dated him for 4 days and dumped him ( broke his little heart) because I realized he was manipulative and possessive.

Mr. Rockstar is next, a year younger than me. He was the only guy I've ever done actual 'couple' things with. He seemed to be a gentleman. He always asked when doing things, took me on nice dates, played the guitar for me. But I should have taken our difference in religious and political opinion as a red flag. Soon enough he was going off to college, and that was something I didn't mind. Though I guess the whole 'long distance' thing was a problem for him. And he wanted the "full college experience". This tore me a little bit, but I soon recovered.

My most ambitious quest for a guy was my ex-boss. Now I know how bad that sounds, it is. We also had lots of differences in opinion. But he was *so* funny and didn't stand up for shitty men. So I saw him as a great guy. He, unfortunately, saw us on different paths (and also got my age wrong, showed how much he cared.)

After him I kind of gave up, I talked to a few guys, even went back to some old guys I talked to minorly. But, just as it was before, I wasn't interested enough. I knew I had to be all in for a guy if I wanted it to last any amount of time. So I saw this time as a time for myself.

Not too long ago my best friend was going through an extremely hard time. Of course, I was there for her every step of the way. After the whole *event* she went through, I decided I wanted us to have a night out. Just us. I asked her where she wanted to go, saying I'd take her anywhere.

"The Bistro! It's new downtown, my cousin works there. It's kind of expensive but-"

"I don't care, I'm taking you, sounds good." She smiled, just nodding.

It was a mere hour before we were standing outside of the restaurant. It was a small place between a brokerage and a tobacco store.

"It's not a very busy place because no one knows about it yet." She said pushing the door open. I was fiddling with my keys, shoving them in my pocket, then looking up. I immediately made eye contact with a waiter. My heart was pounding in my chest in an instant.

*Woah, what is this feeling?*

It was a mixture of anxiety and a feeling I'm still not sure of, but I knew it wasn't something I felt before. I couldn't even see this guy's face, it was covered by a mask, and he was giving me major butterflies. He then came up, hugging my friend.

*Oh you've got to be shitting me. **that's** her cousin?*

Now I had met this kid before, about 5 years ago. And I would say *met* very loosely. I happened to be sitting in his house and he happened to walk through.

My friend spoke to him for a moment as we were led to our seats by our waitress. All while this is happening *I'm* trying to figure out what I just felt. We ordered our food and he came over to talk to us again. He talked to her about how he dealt with his emotions, meditation and a little bit of shweed if you know what I mean. He talked about how relaxing it was traveling all over the country and just having fun. The more he talked the more I thought.

*Maybe those feelings I was having? Was intuition that this guy was my type to a T.*

I left the restaurant with my friend *knowing* that I had to get this guy in my life, whether that meant he was just a friend or not.

Days later I told her about it, being extremely nervous, considering she was pretty close to him. That's like telling someone you like their sister. Mind you this is my best friend, I don't want her angry with me.

But she was quite the opposite.

"Oh! This is so exciting!"

"What?" I asked, looking up from my feet.

"I would rather you date him than almost anyone. You would be cute together!" I breathed a sigh of relief, metaphorically wiping sweat off of my forehead.

Days later my friend needed me to take her to a doctor's appointment.

"Do you wanna go see your aunt? Since she got that surgery recently?" I asked as we headed to the office.

"You just wanna see him, don't you?" She gave me a sly look, I kept my eyes on the road.

"No, I want to check on your aunt." This was true, her aunt loved me. Said I could hold an intelligent conversation well and she found it admirable. Though my friend was also right, I was hoping he would be there.

"Yeah, okay." She laughed, shoving my shoulder. "We can go see her." And so we did, afterward.

We had long conversations with her aunt, her cousin walking out in the middle of one after we had been there for an hour. My friend looked at me with a smirk and I just rolled my eyes.

"You know, I would love it if you guys just moved in. I think it would be good for my mental health." She said. Before I could even process that sentence, her son was intervening.

"Yeah! And I can make you guys breakfast in the morning and dinner at night. I need more people to cook for." On the outside, I was cool calm, and collect. But on the *inside* I was screaming. This is too good to be true, what is even happening.

I set my drink down after taking the last sip. No more than 2 minutes later, mid-conversation the boy walks up and grabs my cup.

"You know that's hers right." She said, pointing to me.

"Yes mom, I know who's it is." He laughed, pouring more water into it and setting it in front of me. *Men like this actually exist, like actually exist!!!*

I thanked him and took another sip of water to cover my totally behooved face.

Soon enough we were on the topic of cooking and this really excited the man. He whipped out 4 spoons and two different quarts of olive oil.

"Now one of these is from Walmart and the other is from a healthy organic store. I want you to guess which ones which." He poured some on the spoons, handing them to me one by one. I swallowed the first one, making my face scrunch up.

"Well, that one tastes like plastic." He smiled, handing me the next one. This one was smooth. "That one actually kind of tastes good, on its own." His smile grew.

"Yes!" He then went on with a detailed explanation of different olive oils and why some of them taste so bad. He cooks real, fancy food.

I can't explain how much I like this guy. Not only is he all these chivalrous and kind things. He was also raised by a family who helped him work through his emotions properly. He listens when you talk about how you feel and tries to understand. He's gone through hardships and he isn't an asshole, he just learned from them. His spirit is free and fun and I just can't get over it. I'm really hoping this is the one thing in my life that works out for me, because before this my luck was pretty slim (not just my love life).

So I'm personally asking the universe, please. Please don't pull this rug out from under me. Just let me be happy for a little while, even if it's temporary.

[cellard0ors]

Ficlet: Beneath The Blue

Mermay isn't over and people enjoyed Part 1, so here's some more...

Rhett has a bit of a gambling problem.

No, that's not quite right. More like a gaming problem. He likes games. He likes the rush of winning and it's not so much about money as the thrill of nailing a dart on a bullseye or getting a hole in one or - well - being right.

He really loves that one. Trivia, guessing games, riddles - lucking out on the right answer or just knowing it, always makes him feel fantastic. He's had marginal luck in his life. With basketball, with singing, and now - with his new current career - fishing, but games?

Rhett's always mastered those, rarely ever a loser. But the thing is, to do those things, he tends to have to use cash as an entry to play, thus - a sort-of-not-really gambling problem.

And winning in those kind of situations is also a problem, because, after some time - it tends to attract...attention. And usually the bad kind. Recently it was very much the bad kind, because he was at The 101, engaging in his normal play only to be snatched up by some very rough looking characters.

Ones who took him into a backroom and decided to skip right over the 'broken knuckles' threat and jump right into the 'you're going to go sleep with the fishes' threat.

To be fair, they probably went quickly into the decision once he started fighting back. Rhett's not much of a brawler, but he's a big guy and that in and of itself can create...issues. Especially if his temper is up.

Long story short - Rhett's bit of a gambling problem led him to being clonked over the head (more than once, matter of fact) and taken out to sea. His last real memory before hitting the water was that he'd been amazed at the boulder they'd found to attach him to - where had they gotten such a huge rock from? A landfill?

Not that it mattered - rock, rope, and Rhett all went overboard and into the deep. Rhett tried not to hold his breath, to struggle enough just to get loose, but, in the end - he'd been lost.

Except he hadn't been.

He'd awoken to find the setting sun bathing him in golden light and, above him, an angel. Because only an angel could have such eyes. Eyes as blue and deep and mysterious as the sea he was supposed to have died in.

His throat ached from damn near drowning but he'd still managed to ask the angel for his name. And he'd gotten it.

Link.

But then the angel had turned, vanished, and Rhett had seen that - while he was right about his mythical savior - he was not at all right about what kind.

Because Link had a tail.

A fish tail.

One as sparkling blue and captivating as his eyes and he'd disappeared into the surf so fast, Rhett began to question his sanity.

Had he imagined it all? The entire experience had been traumatic as heck - maybe it was just a coping mechanism for his mind? But then, far out, he'd seen a head appear above the waters.

Seen it and a shy wave and he'd waved back, because what else could he do? He wasn't dead and he wasn't crazy. He'd been saved. Saved...by a mermaid (merman?) named Link.

Which leads to now and his camping out full time on this small rocky stretch of lonely beach. Rhett made sure to check in with the local marina, see if it was okay for him to dock his tiny fishing boat, The Bluegrass, nearby. And 'nearby' was about a mile or so away, because this bit of land is pretty unoccupied and small.

...the perfect place for a merman (mermaid?) to drop off someone they saved. And, hopefully, return to? Rhett's not sure - honestly, this whole thing might be a fool's errand, but either way - he has a tent pitched and is waiting.

Waiting to see if Link returns.

Night after night seems like a failure. Still, Rhett doesn't mind. He can be patient. His last haul (fish-wise, not gambling-wise) earned him a considerable amount, so there's no harm in waiting.

Still, as he sits here now, the sky a lovely lilac as the sun dips low beneath the horizon, he can't help but feel like time's running out. Honestly, what did he expect? For Link to return and want to...what? Be best friends?

The person...creature...per-creature? Did what he could and Rhett should just be grateful and move on. But there was something about him...and those eyes...and that voice...

Rhett cracks open another can of soda, takes a deep sip when he hears it. The water's waves have become almost a white noise at this point, so consistent, but this...this is different. Just a little splish. Or splash. Or whatever.

And it's close. He puts the can down and quickly surges to his feet, looking out intently over the water and then he sees it. Just the top of someone's head. His head. Dark wet hair and blue eyes behind...are those glasses? And Rhett can't see his nose or anything else, but he can see enough to cry out, "Hey!"

The head rears back, sinks some, and Rhett feels a surge of panic, not wanting to lose this opportunity, "No! Wait, wait! Link! I-!"

The head stops, goes still. Rhett continues on, desperate for this to continue, "Please...don't go."

He doesn't.

Bolstered, Rhett continues, hoping he's heard, understood, "I...I just-? You saved me."

Link simply blinks.

"Thank you."

There's a bobbing in the water around him and Rhett's pretty sure Link nodded. Rhett edges just that little bit closer, "I...I'd hoped you'd come back. Not only so I could thank you, but so...um...maybe-? Maybe we could-? Could talk-?"

Link sinks a little more again, but Rhett can still see his eyes and, as long as he can see those, he feels okay, "I mean...you-you came back. Right? So-so maybe you'd-? You'd like to talk too?"

Link's head disappears.

Rhett feels his heart break. But then he notices that the water is moving. There's a rippling, the kind he sees when fish swim close to the surface. As if to punctuate that thought, the broad tip of a blue tail rises up and out, pushing against the waves.

He's swimming closer!

Rhett resists the urge to hoot in delight, to pumping his arms in victory, as Link pushes forward and, on the next movement of water, he surges upwards - his whole head visible now.

Link's entire face is nice.

A strong jaw, a good nose, a very fine mouth and yeaaaah, Rhett doesn't want Link to swim off, so he's going to do his very best not to focus on that mouth too much as he says, "I'm-I'm Rhett."

Link licks his lips, dips his head shyly, "I'm Link."

"Y-Yeah, you-you said..."

They both just sort of eyeball one another, both clearly unsure of what to make of the other. Of how to proceed. Eventually Rhett does, "So, ah, you're-? You're a mermaid?"

Link's eyebrows rise.

"Merman?"

"Just Mer," Link clarifies, "Our kind doesn't really attach those bits on the end there."

"Really?"

Link nods, "Humans came up with that one."

"Oh? We-we did?"

Another nod, "Back when we first used to come across one another."

"...take it that doesn't really happen now?"

"Not really. No."

Another awkward silence falls. Rhett scratches at one cheek, struggling for something else to say when Link blurts, "You're hairy."

Rhett lowers his hand and - much to his own surprise - he bursts out laughing. Link colors some and he gives a bashful smile and okay, Rhett said he wasn't going to pay too much attention to that mouth, but it's hard when it's so danged cute, "Yeah, yeah I am, brother."

"Bro-ther?" Link repeats and it's clearly a word he's unfamiliar with. Rhett beams, "'Brother'. We use it for family members. Y'know, the boys born from the same Momma and such. Can be a term of endearment too."

"Oh..." Link seems pleased with this and Rhett grins, "You got one?"

Link's eyebrows knit together and Rhett explains, "A brother? Or-or some other family or-?"

"I was spawned from another Mer. She came to shore to give birth to me."

Rhett's eyes grow wide, "You-? You were born on land?"

Link nods, "Most of us are. Mers walk between both worlds more often than not."

Rhett lets that one wash over him even as Link comes closer. Rhett can see his tail better now. It's amazing. Glossy and sparkling blue, the scales tightly knit. Rhett's first reaction is wanting to touch it but he quickly shutters that idea - recognizing it as beyond rude. They've just started talking to one another, for goodness sake!

Still, seeing it rest against the wet sand of the shoreline is tempting and seeing it move, more so. It slides and slithers, but in such an enticing way. Rhett moves a little closer, foam teasing at his toes as Link looks up (and up) at him, "Hard to talk at this level..."

Rhett realizes he probably looks like a giant at Link's angle, the Mer practically lying at his feet, so he lowers himself down until his butt hits the sand, crossing his legs at the ankles, "Better?"

Link nods and Rhett does a bit of a wiggle backward to avoid getting his khaki cargo shorts wet. There's an amused smirk around Link that says he recognizes that action. But of course he does - Mers, apparently, can traverse between land and sea.

So, Link is probably aware of how clothing works. Has he ever worn clothing? Come to the shore? Rhett wants to ask so many questions, but isn't sure what's appropriate and what isn't, but Link beats him to the questioning, "Are you a fisherman?"

Rhett lets out a strained 'Ah-?' as he immediately realizes that the true answer will no doubt insult his new acquaintance, but, again, Link beats him to the punch, "You've got the attire for it. Flannel shirt, baseball cap..."

Rhett frowns, "You think fisherman have a particular attire?"

"To my recollection..." The remark makes Rhett chuckle again, unable to help himself, "'Recollection' - you sound so danged southern. Just like me. I was born and raised in North Carolina."

Link beams, "That's where I was spawned! My sire came from the same location. Not all Mers are from the sea. Some reside in lakes, rivers - any water deep enough to conceal us, but a lot of us return to the ocean, considering its the biggest body of water."

Rhett lets that sink in even as Link again asks, "So, you are a fisherman, right?"

"Um-?"

"It's okay if you are," Link assures him, folding his arms and resting his chin there, "It's not really a proud profession amongst my kind, but it's understandable."

Rhett's lips twitch from side to side, "So I'm not, like, catching up your friends or something?"

Link snorts, "What - you think we talk to them?"

"Heck, man - I don't know how it works," Rhett lets out a peal of nervous giggles, getting the idea that Link is teasing him. Link returns the laugh and Rhett relaxes as a realization settles in.

Whether or not Rhett wants to admit it, he did want Link to return. He wanted him to return and be his friend and it appears that that is indeed what is happening.

It's happening and Rhett couldn't be any happier.

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.