#mostly just relieved that there are people that are WAY bigger assholes about it

[the-firebird69]

We have a few other things happening but the roof is now a big deal just say it all over town and all over Florida and they're evacuation is continuing they were at 23% this morning and then going down and they we have 2% moving and 2% up actually and it'll start moving more people shortly Ford isn't coming in foreigners are coming in and minority morlok. And they're moving it fast and you haven't already started taking their place minorities are taking their place and they're turning it up and it's the wrong thing to do it will bring more and they are the ones who used to stop them and they're stupid maybe not who knows that's pretty stupid it's going on now I have several other things happening, in town they are looking to fire all of the warlock including bja and they're at them and telling them to get out and they are going to fire them from several jobs powerful position and it's a town controller that's one position and they've been trying to get them out of there for a while and it is Brian and no he doesn't know what he's doing and he figured if I don't know what I'm doing it probably makes a problem even we want them out it's so lazy and it's it's moving now meaning there are people who are getting laid off and they're laying each other off just as expected and it is going fast and there's a lot of people thought it wouldn't happen and they thought they would keep it together by saying that we're all together in this and it's not working that way by noon we think that half the people who are in positions of power are going to be fired in Charlotte county and the rest of jobs will follow because they sent the new boss will fire them this group here is very small and have 15 houses in the neighborhood that's it they're trying to build more and they just slow as hell and they won't use fast methods and the roof seems to have slowed down a little and it is because two guys when elsewhere to get stuff no and they might be working I'm pulling out some plywood she doesn't see them the guy and his one guy we have a few other things to do one of them is to make sure things go well and we think that he is up there alone and it's just idiot neighbor who wants to go through the roof so I think the they're going to show up pretty soon.

-there's a few other things going on and we do understand what they are but these are things that are happening now there's a couple of things that we want taken care of and I will tell you one of them is this they're both assholes get some of the things going on around here and we're going to mention them they're firing people

-the firing people from City positions and city offices and you're finding a bunch of them it's a lot of people that they're getting rid of it's a decent size number and people are getting beat up 20% so far today and they're going at it with each other firing each other in the suck because of them firing each other and they know they suck and it's going on probably all day but they will be firing each other and it's a huge deal and they ain't coming back in town there there were Charlotte county positions in town positions alike in town there were about 40 positions that they released the top people from and a few underlings each and really in town it's only like 80 positions and they're going at it mostly trumpsters got fired and they're going to try and return that and everybody will see how they're doing it with a smaller group which is not that great but that's what they're doing it's proceeding now and it's starting to get ugly and it is getting bigger and bigger as the creep is threatening our son on the roof and he's a moron and the other guy's stupid he's going to get beat up and the others are going to beat him up foreigners in minority morelock are coming in and it is also other morlock but they don't have that much law and order in the lives and it's causing them a huge problem here right now we are going to start relieving people of their jobs ourselves too people like John remillard they don't need to be around it's too hard to do things right and he's trying to do things wrong and you never does he gets mad and stress bothering people like this guy is a major major disruption

Thor Freya

Olympus

We'll say Sundays it's got a little bit better we're experiencing some changes and they're not huge but it's going on

Hera

[ladyintree]

she starts to smile,  because while she didn't know back then what mikayla was going to mean to her someday,   it makes her happy knowing that she gave her some bit of comfort back then.   mikayla always did the same when tai felt alone and struggled to connect with anyone.    ❝  I didn't realize it meant something to you.  it meant something to me, too, ❞   she assures,  shrugging her shoulders.   ❝  you were one of the only people in our class who,  like,  I don't know--  talked to me back then. ❞   it's funny thinking about how their relationship turned out those following years,  but maybe this was always inevitable anyway,  ever since the game of spin the bottle.  her eyes roll and she lets out a soft laugh.  ❝  says you—   you were always a way bigger asshole than me,  ❞   she claims teasingly,  because she's not even sure if that's actually true.   her perception of mikayla has always been skewed for many different reasons.  she doesn't need her to finish to know what she's trying to say,  her head nodding slowly.   ❝  —  it's okay, ❞   she says quietly.   ❝  now,  I can give you whatever you want,  ❞   she says quietly,  rubbing her hand over her arm.  ❝  —  with limitations,  ❞  she adds,  quickly glancing to their surroundings,  because there's not much they actually can do here.   it's an attempt at a joke,  even if it's mostly empty,  because it's hard to stay lighthearted about their situation.

she lets out a sigh,  relieved to hear that mikayla's content.  she smiles again,  trying to focus only on her,  ignoring their surroundings no matter how hard it can be.   ❝  it's enough for me, too,  ❞   she says quietly.   it's a big part of her even choosing to keep fighting every single day,  because she's not sure how she'd keep going on without her,   no matter how determined she's always been.   she brings her closer,   pressing a long kiss to the side of her head.   ❝  good,  ❞  she whispers.   ❝  because one thing i'm always going to be sure of is that I love you,  mikayla,  ❞   she says,  just in time to pull back again for her eyes to meet hers,   showing her how much she means it.

her brows furrow as mikayla pulls back,  eyes following hers down to their hands.   she doesn't know what's on her mind,  but her hand gives her a small squeeze,  silently telling her it's okay,  whatever it is.  she's thrown off when she mentions marriage,   still unsure where this is going.  her eyes follow hers again as she looks up,  their eyes meeting once again,  and she tries to process what she's saying.  it almost threatens to make her panic —    not because she doesn't love her with everything,   not because she doesn't see a life with her,  not because she doesn't want to marry her,   but because it means submitting to the wilderness.  it means accepting their fate,  accepting that they're actually stuck here and the idea of going home may not even ever be a reality.   she's had to adapt to that way of thinking months ago,  when she first failed to rescue her team.  but this is different —  it feels like mikayla is accepting that this is their life.  and maybe she's not wrong to.  it's been almost a year of living this way,  almost a year of making this their home and learning how to live with that.  and mikayla's right to suggest it—   they would have never gone here at this age back at home,  but it's what they've come to be out here.   this is taissa's wife.  so she ignores the way it feels like admitting defeat,  ignores the fact that if they're ever brought back home,  things are bound to be different.  all she wants to think about right now is saying yes to her.   

❝  you want to be my wife?  ❞   she says quietly,  a small, shy smile tugging at her lips as she nods her head slowly.  there's a slightly hint of hesitation in her eyes,  but it's not about mikayla,  and she can feel it immediately,  so she tries to clarify before mikayla gets the wrong idea.  ❝ I don't want to believe this is all there is for us.  all of this—  I still want to believe we're going to make it home some day. ❞   she takes a deep breath before going on.   ❝  but I do know that I couldn't be in this place without you.  I—   I don't think I could ever be anywhere without you.  yeah,  mikayla.  i—   ❞   she cuts herself off,  a more teasing expression on her features as she tilts her head to the side.  ❝  —  wait,  that is a proposal, right?  ❞    she teases, unable to stop herself.

mikayla's not sure how much faith she could put in tai's words, not because she thinks tai will forget it, but because if they're still here in a year, she doubts the date will matter to any of them anymore. it's already started to not matter to her, losing track of the day, the month, because it feels meaningless now that every day just feels the same.

“ kind of hard to forget. ” again, not because of any feelings she might have had at the time, but because even just some handmade card was special to her, something completely unfamiliar to a girl who never received anything before. “ well— that was before you grew up to be an asshole. ” she knows it's the opposite, that she's the one who got meaner as they got older, especially toward her. mikayla shakes her head, because she would have never expected tai to give her anything before— if anything, it would have only made her feel suspicious, like it was some kind of joke for someone she assumed hated her to be the only one acknowledging her birthday. “ no, it's fine— probably better you didn't. my dad would've... ” she trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence, because he doesn't deserve to be thought about.

she doesn't think she'll ever get tired of hearing that from her, almost tempted to ask tai to say it again, but she stops herself, not wanting to come off as too desperate for validation. her brows furrow, hand squeezing hers. “ no, baby, this is— this is enough. just being with you is enough. i don't need anything else. ” that's not entirely true, because being back in civilization with her would be preferred, but mikayla can't let herself dwell on that, forcing herself to be grateful for what she has in the moment. mikayla closes her eyes, hating to think about the possibility that they might not be together some day, because it's the only thing that really keeps her going, but she chooses not to argue, to insist that she won't let that happen. “ i won't forget. i promise. ” it feels impossible to, anyway, knowing that this is the only good thing she's ever been sure of.

— that makes her consider something else, pulling back from tai just slightly, looking down at their intertwined hands. she opens her mouth, then closes it again, hesitant to say anything at all, because it feels stupid, bringing it up. but she loves her, and this might be all they ever get to have, so she ignores her nerves, forcing herself to speak before she could second guess herself. “ a few weeks ago, i think, akilah said something— about, like... um, marriage. ” she grimaces, afraid to look up at tai, afraid she sounds ridiculous. “ i didn't say anything about it then, because it felt... dumb. and it's not something i would've ever thought about at this age before all this, but— ” mikayla lets out a shaky sigh, steeling herself to finally lift her gaze and meet tai's eyes, trying to muster up all the confidence she has. “ but i don't know what's going to happen out here, if we're going to— you know. but i do know that i love you, and i'm always going to love you. so it's not... the worst thought in the world. marrying you. ”

[pisati]

I suppose it's a product of the society we live in, but I feel messed up in some ways for not wanting my own children. Not liking babies, not even really thinking they're cute. Being terrified of pregnancy. I almost wish I could be 'normal' about it, in the same way I sometimes wish I could be 'normal' about sexual attraction and drive. It would make things so much less complicated, feels like. I looked it up. Just a few scattered articles about women who don't want children (some of which say "it's perfectly normal!"). A lot of the justifications some of these women give are... honestly really pretentious. Some of these people just think babies are plain gross. And they can be; they're little poop machines, they puke, they blow mucus everywhere... but I saw one article that was like "they're gross and inconsiderate and selfish" like... fucking duh? They're infants. They don't know how to control their bodily functions quite yet and they don't know how else to communicate their needs. "You're a baby. You have nothing to do. If you're tired, just sleep instead of crying about it" like how fucking stupid are y'all? Have you ever tried falling asleep when you're tired but your brain just won't let you? Did it occur to you that infants have to learn things as basic as the concept of object permanence, and maybe they cry when they're tired because they just don't know what else to do about it? Being tired fucking sucks. Even at 25 I sometimes get so tired I want to cry. Fuck off. And "inconsiderate"?? As if babies have even the slightest concept of "considerate"? They are wired to survive. To need their parents to provide for them. That is what they know how to do. "Considerate" is learned. God. Those things are not an issue I really have with babies. I get kind of secondhand embarrassed when babies do stupid things, but I understand they're learning. I get super grossed out by the idea of diaper blowouts and spit-up and faces covered in snot and every food they try to ingest, but... I know if that were my child it'd be a little easier to deal with. I'm fine with my pets' bodily functions, I don't see why, if I loved something enough, it should really be a problem. Some people don't get that. But they say they love their pets in a way they don’t care for children; makes me wonder how they actually treat them. Some people think babies are life-ruiners, but of course they're going to be if they're not wanted, you absolute fucking morons. They are work. Some women love being a mom but hate motherhood, and that's understandable. Some people don't want to give up their careers, because honestly, raising children is a full-time job in itself. Babies maybe won't ruin your life's work, but they certainly can derail it and be a weight you have to carry around for a lifetime. Not everyone is ready to commit to that. But that's not an issue I seem to have with them either. If I wanted them, they'd be worked into my future plans. It wouldn't be ruining my life if that was the way I wanted my life to go, you know? The people that think it's the worst thing that could happen to their career... shouldn't have them, lmao. Those kids are going to grow up knowing they're resented. Knowing that you had things you wanted to do with your life, until they came along. They're going to feel like a burden on you, and you’ll probably take out your regret on them at some point. Your feeling like you "need" to have a child because of societal expectations doesn't trump the wellbeing of the child you're bringing into this world. There's the tantrums. The crying, the screaming, the not listening to reason. That's one thing I can actually agree with. I can't deal with babies crying. Some say that the cry of a baby draws people in; it makes mothers want to go to them and comfort them. I have the opposite reaction. I hear a baby crying, I want to get far away from it. I don't think I'd be very good at perceiving a baby's needs. They wouldn't stop crying, I'd get impatient and frustrated. You can't reason with a crying infant, you have to find the off switch by guessing at which needs aren't being met. I wouldn't be able to deal with tantrums or an indignant child, but I feel like any child of mine would know better than to give me the business. Who knows, though? Who knows what I'd end up with? I was a good kid. Afraid of consequences, sensitive, obedient, for the most part, if not a little stubborn (ok, very stubborn). What if my kid was the exact opposite? What if no matter how much love I gave them, no matter how attentive I tried to be towards their needs, no matter how many lessons I tried to teach them, they ended up a little brat? A gigantic asshole? God forbid, a white supremacist or some other horrible thing? Sometimes people really do their best and still it doesn't matter.

I just. I don’t have those instincts towards babies. I really don’t. I wish I did, sometimes. But that’s just not how I was wired. They scare me too, possibly because of unfamiliarity, but more because I don’t have the energy or the money to be as good of a parent as I’d want to be for an infant.  I do think I have maternal instincts though. I know I try to take good care of my rats and I love caring for them. Spoiling them, making sure they have what they need, making sure they're happy and healthy. I can't see myself ever not having pets. But by that same token... just thinking about it. I've been saying for a while now that I think my maternal instincts are misdirected towards animals instead of humans (ha ha), but I don't think that's actually true. My heart breaks for older children in the foster system-- older children being kids that aren't babies. Any child in the foster system, of course, but I’m more drawn personally to the older ones. Kids that have known abusive parents or never even knew who their parents were, kids that grew up in foster care, bouncing from place to place, knowing they don't really have a family. Children have a lot of needs growing up, and emotional needs are a big one that people sometimes overlook. Kids can get hurt, bad. They feel a lot of things, and deeply. I remember being a kid myself, and I was always one to feel things extraordinarily strongly. I remember dad got me two Polly Pocket sets for.. maybe my birthday one year. And I'd thrown out the little plastic insert that one of them was packaged with-- you know, just opening a box, discarding the packaging. And I realized later that the insert would've been perfect for keeping the little rubber doll pieces organized, and the regret over having thrown it out hurt so bad I cried. Like... kids are growing and they're complicated and I can't even imagine having that made harder by parents or lack thereof. Knowing that kids are growing up in those conditions makes me want to take them in. Like my friend’s family, who’s taken in a whole bunch of foster kids and adopted them all. I'd want to bring a child home, and let them know that this is their home and would always be their home. Give them some stability on a fundamental level. Show them love they may not have received yet. Do their hair, have little makeover days, movie nights, game nights, craft nights. Surprise them with things they like, watch their face light up knowing they're listened to and cared about. Listen to them talk about their interests, try to guide them towards things that make them happy; spark that interest and let them explore and grow; not try to mold them any way I think they should be. Help them with homework, work through problems together, because lord knows I'd probably struggle with some of them too. Hope they'd trust me enough to come to me with emotional issues-- not like how I could never talk to my mom about boys. Try to help them heal from whatever trauma they may have experienced. I don't know how I'd handle behavioral issues, if that were to happen, but I know the best course of action is educating myself and trying to be understanding. I do think I'd be a good mother. Just not to an infant, lmao When I was still in school, I'd let my rats run around my apartment during playtime. I'd leave my plastic shopping bags on the floor in the kitchen once I'd put groceries away, because I knew Jay liked to hoard them under my couch. And sometimes I'd take my phone flashlight and look around under there at the mess he made. I wouldn't touch it (until cleaning day came, usually, or unless there was a receipt I realized I needed). I'd just look at the organized chaos his little rat brain told him to create. I was witnessing the physical manifestation of his personality-- something he created himself. He put those bags right where he wanted them, and I could hear him rustling around down there sometimes, arranging them how he liked. He would grab mouthfuls of food and stash them in piles under the couch too, in specific places. I think I'd be the type of person to do the same for a child. I couldn't ever tell them what to do or how to be, necessarily. I'm sure I'd just marvel at anything they created; anything their mind produced. I'd want to know them for them, and love them just the same, even if they were nothing like me. Hell, I'd probably be happy if they were nothing like me (in some regards). Reminds me of that scene from Ladybird. I just. I wish that you liked me. Of course I love you. But do you like me? I want you to be the very best version of yourself that you can be. But what if this is the best version? Parks & Rec: I love you and I like you. One day I'll be able to say that. I hope.

[ukai-simp-services]

just tonight

oikawa tōru x fem!reader warnings: smoking weed, cursing, degrading/humiliating, nsfw and smut ofc, corruption kink, slight biblical references, y/n is kinda bitchy, voyeurism, temp/heat play, high during intercourse, choking, dumbdification. a/n: i literally don’t even like smoking or care for it at all BUT THIS FUCKING IDEA CAME TO MY HEAD AND OOOHH BOY. so here’s an alternate universe oikawa being a mf bad boy stoner with piercings and tattoos, and lowkey an asshole.

  fake friends, fake fucking friends, you thought to yourself. you were standing outside of the loud - practically vibrating - club. the one that your friends invited you to; yet here you were, alone while they were driving away with sloppy looking men that just wanted to hook up with them. 

  bass-boosted music rang through your ears, while the ground you walked on literally shook from the bouncing club. you felt a wave of goosebumps rise on your skin, the dress you were wearing was a little too short and it didn't help that the sleeves were spaghetti straps. it was only the beginning of summer, a late june night with a chilling breeze. not to mention, you were two fucking hours away from home, you had no car and a dead phone. the best you could hope for was that someone was kind enough to call a cab for you, or an uber - but there was no one around, except for the people inside the club that you could no longer enter.

  “someone looks lost~” a low, yet teasing voice came from behind you.

  you whipped your head around; taken aback by the sudden voice, but felt slightly relieved when you were greeted by the presence of a young man.

  “yeah, i guess you could say that...” your voice was timid as you trailed off, still nervous of this unknown man gracing your presence. 

  “’s not safe for a pretty girl like you to be walking around this area with that lost look on your face, you could attract some bad news.” he stepped closer and closer to you, almost hesitantly. 

  “like you?” you cocked an eyebrow back at him, gesturing to the array of large, black tattoos littering his arms.

  he clicked his tongue at you, ”should someone like you really be judging others by their looks?” the stranger got uncomfortably closer and you could see that his eyes resembled a warm brown color and his fluffy hair matched them. his face certainly didn't match the rest of his appearance. 

  “someone like me? i look exactly like what i am, a girl who's stranded with no phone or car and could use a nice person to call her a cab home. get lost, creep.” you practically spat back. 

  you spun on your heel and began walking away, you half expected him to chase after you and snatch you into the darkness of an ally, and half expected him to just give up and walk away. your speed-walking was put to a halt when he did neither of those things, when he started laughing hysterically. you spun around quickly out of curiosity to see him doubled over, crouched down on the ground trying to get a grip on himself. 

  “what's so funny?” you were both pissed and skeeved out, what the hell was this asshole creepy laughing at you for?

  he began wiping the tears from his eyes dramatically, “nothing, sorry. it’s just that girls like you are so stereotypical. always looking down on men like me, always thinking you're better than everyone else. it’s just kinda funny instead of insulting.” 

  you were at a loss for words, did you really come off that bitchy? and didn't you have a right to? he was the one lurking in the shadows.

  “i'd call you a cab, but i left my phone at home. i could go get it and come back?”

  somehow, you weren't convinced he’d let you go that easy. something about his tone when he first approached you, was just too teasing and insinuating. 

  “no thanks, i can find someone else to call one for me.” you nervously tugged at the chain on your purse, you knew that was a damn lie. the streets were empty, and this man was your only hope.

  he smirked, a knowing look planted on his face. he wouldn't push, but he knew you'd have to resort to his help in the end. 

  “suit your self.” he treaded away slowly, eagerly expecting your plea to come. 

  you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, he wasn't going to keep pushing you? was he not just saying how unsafe the streets were for a young girl like you?

  “actually- wait.” you stammered hesitantly, embarrassed that you needed his attention again. 

  he turned around swiftly, a small smirk gracing his lips - smugly trying to hold back a grin. 

  “i'm sorry, could you please call me a taxi?” you failed to notice his sly expression.

  “sure thing, but will you be safe here on your own while i get my phone?” he feigned the worry in his voice and the twinkle in his eyes. 

  you bit your lip, hesitant to pick your next words.

  “how long would you be?”

  “should be a 10 minute walk there, another 10 minutes back.”

  “so, 20 minutes?”

  “yes, around 20.” the mysterious man toyed with something between his long, slender fingers, barely giving you a glance. 

  “oh...” you looked around awkwardly, you thought 20 minutes might be too long. who knows what kind of person would approach you, plus it felt like the breeze against your so very exposed legs was getting colder by the minute.

  he looked up to catch your nervous gaze.

  “of course, you could join me on the walk, wait outside my house when we get there.” he pursed his lips, making it look like he had just thought up the idea with no further intentions. 

  no, no fucking way you would go with him.

  but in his gaze, you caught something. a glint in his eyes; trust, comfort. 

  your better judgement faltered as you lost yourself in the charm he held in his eyes, the start to many more risks you would take that night. 

  despite his eccentric look; piercings littering his ears, leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, obscene tattoos and all black attire - he had a deep warmth in his eyes. and you may have felt so stupid in the moment, but you found yourself trusting that warmth.

  “okay, can't be worse than staying here alone right?”

  he chuckled, “right.”

  but were you actually wrong?

  the walk to his apartment was quiet, mostly because you were nervous he was gonna snap and pull a knife out and murder you in an ally.

  “you know, you don't have to walk 10 feet away from me, right?” the guy looked over his shoulder and squinted his eyes at you. 

  you bit your lip, deciding to stride a little closer to him - making a more comfortable distance.

  “i don't even know your name, mystery man.” 

  he chuckled, stepping to the side a little to give you more room to walk.

  “neither do i, mystery woman.”

  “wouldn't you like to know, i asked first anyway.”

  you were now walking by his side, a little more confident than you were before. your fingers held themselves behind your back, purse still hooked over your shoulder.

  “it’s oikawa, tōru oikawa.” his eyes flickered up to yours, hopeful for you to open up and tell him your name too.

  “told me your full name huh, i guess i should too.” you rocked on your heels nervously. you were still uneasy about telling him your full name for some reason, but when you looked into his orbs of warm chocolate brown, you felt like you could trust this man with your life.

  “l/n y/n.”

  he smirked, looking up ahead at the road again, “pretty name, definitely suits a pretty girl.”

  you rolled your eyes at his sudden flattery, he seemed to do a lot of that - you noticed.

  the two of you continued walking for a few more minutes, casual conversation bouncing off each other. you noticed he began to slow down his faster walking pace when you both reached a tall apartment building.

  “we’re home.” he winked at you.

  “oh shut it, don’t take too long please. it’s so cold...” you hopped from foot to foot and rubbed your exposed biceps with your hands.

  oikawa thought for a moment - running his tongue over his teeth while contemplating how to make what he was about to say not sound creepy.

  “why don’t you come in with me? it’d only take a second and i don’t trust the people around this area to leave you alone out here.”

  you paused for a moment, you were usually very street smart and would know exactly how to avoid this situation. if he were any other guy, you’d just say ‘no thanks, i can handle myself’ and refuse his offer - but his eyes, why were you so allured by his eyes? what was it about him that you trusted? 

  “it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable, i’ll be quick and you can wait out here-“

  “no, wait. i'll come, just...don’t pull anything weird, kay?” you were readjusting your purse on your shoulder as you hesitantly stepped closer to the apartment door.

  “of course, i’d never.” there was a glint of mischief in his eye after the words left his lips, but you didn’t notice it.

  after oikawa let you into his apartment, you were greeted by the strongest smell of weed in your life - and a lot of loud talking and laughter. you were just about ready to turn on your heel and leave.

  “sorry ‘bout that, my friends are really loud.” oikawa apologized and locked the door behind you.

  you waved him off, dismissing his apology. you didn’t care about his loud friends, you were just bothered by the disgusting scent of marijuana that hit your nostrils. you wouldn’t tell him that though, at least not yet.

  you followed oikawa into the living room; also known as the source of where the horrid smell was coming from. the room was dimly lit and felt bigger than it looked. there was an L-shaped brown couch in the center of the room being occupied by 3 men - seemingly the same age as oikawa and yourself.

  “hey guys, this is y/n. she got lost and needs me to call her a ride home. do you guys know where my phone is?” oikawa spoke to the men in front of you, they all seemed to immediately drop their conversation the second oikawa walked in.

  “nah man, i dunno.” a boy with short light brown hair spoke up while twiddling a blunt between his fingers.

  oikawa sighed and ran a hand through his hair, quickly scanning the room for his phone before looking back at you.

  “wait here for a sec while i go look in my room, kay?” he raised an eyebrow at you before hearing your response.

  you would’ve snorted at the tall man with tattoos and ripped jeans using the term “kay”, if it weren’t for the intimating group of men staring you down at the moment.

  “sure.” you forced a nod, signaling oikawa to exit the room.

  you looked around the room awkwardly, hands clasped together against your thighs. you weren’t sure how long he would take, and you certainly weren’t up for small talk with these ‘troublesome’ looking guys.

  “take a seat, we don’t bite.” the man with messy black hair and thick eyebrows chuckled at you.

  yeah right, “that’s ok, i-“

  “i insist.” his voice was deep and his eyes were burning holes into your own. you weren’t sure how someone so high could come off so serious.

  you swallowed down your nerves and took a seat on the far right of all the boys on the couch, plopping down next to one of the quieter men; he had spiky black hair and wore a denim jacket. 

  “so, ‘kawa’s picking up strangers off the street n bringing 'em into our apartment now, eh?” the man next to you spoke up, plucking the blunt from his friends fingers and placing it between his own lips. 

  the light-haired man laughed, following it with a cough from previously inhaling the smoke, “wouldn’t be much of a surprise, knowing him.”

  you wrinkled your nose at their laughter. you tried to be polite, you really did, but you simply didn't belong here; didn't belong in a room with these ‘delinquents’.

  “i am not, ‘from the streets’, for your information. i don't even live around here, i was just clubbing with my friends, but they-” 

  “yeah yeah, we get it. you're a typical stuck-up girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” the light-haired boy (it would really help if they told you their names) mocked you in a high-pitched voice.

  “i'm not stuck up, i just-” he kept cutting you off.

  “oh please, the second you walked in here, you were sticking up your nose at us, looking us up and down with a disapproving glare. you're just that kind of girl, face it.” 

  the messy-haired man chuckled lowly at his friend’s joke and added, “just oikawa’s type!”

  “that's enough, you two.” the quieter man next to you spoke up for a second time, giving the other two men a threatening glare. 

  you swallowed awkwardly as the room became quiet, only the soft sounds of sucking in smoke from the blunt being passed around were heard. 

  you were busy absentmindedly picking at the polish on your nails, a nervous habit, when a small orange glow next to your head caught your eye. 

  “you wanna hit?” the guy next to you was holding the blunt out for you to grab, the strong smell getting a little too close to your nostrils. 

  you scrunched your nose at his offer, shaking your head to further decline.

  “no thanks, i don't really do that stuff.”

  the spikey-haired male nodded - accepting your decision and taking an extra hit himself, when you heard a chuckle come from behind him.

  “god, she really is a prude.” the voice of the impudent light-haired man spoke again.

  you were just about ready to bite back a reply, but the man sat in-between the two men with the deeper voice beat you to it. 

  “makki, bet you 10 bucks she was only at that club for a half-hour before she was beggin’ her friends to go. that's probably why they ditched her stuck-up ass.” the boys cackled in unison at their stupid jokes. if they weren't pissing you off so much, you might even had found their cackles funny. 

  “makki, mattsun, shut your mouths.” the man next to you rose his voice slightly. you were thankful that he was sticking up for you, but there was no way you'd let it go without defending yourself.

  “ha, sorry that i actually have my life together and don't need a mind-altering drug to live my every day life. you guys are the pathetic ones, not me.” you laughed bitterly at them. what you were saying was only half true; you didn't have your life together and you couldn't care less if people that weren't you did mind-altering drugs, but you did think they were pathetic. 

  3 pairs of eyes widened in your direction in response your bitchy remark, they knew they had it coming - yet they were still surprised to hear it. 

  “please, humble yourself sweetheart. you aren't any better than us for not doing drugs.” the man with dark hair, presumably mattsun, laughed coldly at you whilst leaning further back into the cushion of the couch. 

  “yeah, you're only missing out.” the man called makki chimed in.

  “missing out? oh please, on what? a fried brain? smelly breath? black lungs? yeah, i think I'm doing just fine.” you leaned back against the couch, content with the newfound confidence you held. you weren't normally this snappy with people you first met, so this was quite a shift in your usual dynamic. 

  this time, all three boys laughed at you, this included the quieter man who's name you still did not know. 

  “oh darling, you're cracking me up. just say that you're a prude and go, you're honestly embarrassing yourself.” makki pushed your argument further. 

  “yeah, you shouldn't knock something before you try it. just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you have to act-” 

  “what makes you think that im a virgin? what does weed have to do with my sex life, like at all?” your voice was getting defensively higher and you were now leaning over the man in between you and makki and mattsun to get your point across. 

  “you're not a virgin because you don't smoke weed, but you don't smoke weed because you're a virgin.” makki put it bluntly, staring straight at you with a completely blank face. the two boys next to him chuckled at his stupidity. you were completely dumbfounded. 

  “you're joking right? this has to be a joke. you can't seriously think that i’m some prude who's never had sex before just because i've never smoked weed before - and never will.” you were crossing your right leg over your left now, lifting your posture significantly to get a better look at the men.

  “actually, sweetheart. that's exactly what we think.” mattsun glanced over at you, half-lidded eyes burning into your own. 

  you felt a shudder run through your body at the nickname, trying your hardest to push down the heat rising to your cheeks and somehow maintain your snarky persona. 

  “i-”

  “found my phone- what is going on here?” oikawa entering the living room interrupted your retaliation, suddenly becoming confused with the obvious tense atmosphere in the room. 

  “tch, your little prude of a friend over here just called us pathetic for smoking weed.” makki rolled his eyes before placing the blunt between his lips, it was now a quarter of the size it was before when you first entered the home. 

  “only because your asshole friends were calling me a prude and a virgin for not smoking.” you snapped back immediately, turning your body to face oikawa to make your point. 

  “asshole friends? that isn't very nice now is it, sweetheart?” mattsun teased you again, using the same nickname that you were shamefully flustered by before. 

  you opened your mouth to argue back, but oikawa interrupted your spiteful words with a long laugh.

  “i knew you were a stereotypical stuck-up girl the second i met you, didn't i y/n? this comes off as no surprise to me.” oikawa’s arms were now crossed and he was eyeing you down from his standing position above you.

  “oooh, her name is y/n. just sounds like a prude’s name.” makki proceeded to torment you. 

  “come on asswipes, be gentlemen.” the quieter man next to you spoke up again for the first time in quite a few minutes. 

  “sorry, iwa-chan, but i’m gonna have to side with makki and mattsun this time. if y/n wants to act like a little prudent brat, then she’ll just have to be treated like one.” oikawa stepped closer to your spot on the couch, a teasing lilt to his voice.

  you were flustered by how fast oikawa’s personality had shifted, he had alluded you to think he was a charming, trustworthy man not even 20 minutes ago. where was that energy now?

  “such a stuck-up brat, probably gonna live to be a perfect little virgin mary, yeah? never gonna compromise her health, never gonna sleep with a man, and never gonna commit a sin, isn't that right?” oikawa now stood directly in front of you, legs brushing against yours with your head at eye level with his crotch. 

  you hesitated for a moment, contemplating if your pride was really worth doing this. 

  of course it was.

  “pass me the fucking blunt.” your head whipped towards makki, holding your hand out towards him, praying to god that he couldn't see how much you were shaking.

  makki widened his reddened eyes at you while trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

  “are you deaf? let me take a fucking hit.” your eyes were dead and cold, boring into his surprised ones.

  “alright... now that's what i like to see.” makki’s lips curled up into a smirk as he passed you the medium-sized, glowing blunt. 

  everybody’s eyes were on you as your held the object between your thumb and your pointer finger, mimicking the movements you've seen others do so many times before.

  “you sure you can handle the smoke, darling?” oikawa’s voice was anything but caring and sweet, it held a mocking tone laced with faux sympathy. 

  no, you were very sure that you couldn't, but you were too stubborn to go back now. your pride was on the line and you would be damned if you didn't prove yourself to these four men.

  you looked up at oikawa through your thick lashes, placing the blunt between your lips at the slowest, most seductive speed. 

  “i'm a big girl. i think i'll be alright, kay?

  oikawa let a low chuckle out, still staring down at you from his tall position above you with his head slightly tilted to the side. 

  “we’ll see about that.” his voice came out deeper and smoother than it had before.

  you wanted so badly to prove to these assholes that you weren't as prudent as they made you out to be. sure, you were a little pretentious and always stuck your nose up in disapproval when your friends did similar actions that these boys did, but secretly, you always wished you could let yourself loose like everyone else. you were raised to be a perfect, well-behaved girl, so you've always kind of stuck by that title for as long as you knew. just going to clubs, like you did tonight, was totally out of your comfort zone. if tonight was going to be the one night where you let yourself loose, then there was no reason that you couldn't do this, right?

  you seemed to underestimate how many hits it would take for a lightweight like you to get even the slightest bit high, all you wanted was a little buzz - just to get these dickheads off your back. 

  it was only after coughing up an entire lung after your two first hits, that you realized that this might've not been such a good idea.

  you set down the glass of water that iwaizumi - the only nice guy out of the bunch - got you from the tap. you were four hits in and absolutely miserable. your entire chest felt on fire and to make matters worse, you didn't even feel high yet - not like you would know what that felt like, anyway. 

  “nuh-uh, that's enough for you.” oikawa quickly snatched the blunt from your fingers before you could react.

  you rolled your eyes, not wanting to back down from what felt like a competition. 

  “pft, look who's the pussy now.” you reached to grab for the small piece of blunt left in oikawa’s hand, but your slow reaction rate caused you to miss horribly. 

  “i’m not a pussy, i just know what'll happen to a light-weight like you. if you over-do it you're bound to get sick, and the last thing i need is some random girl who pushed her limits to lose her shit in front of me.” oikawa’s words were harsh, but a playful smirk was planted on his lips. 

  you weren't having it.

  he was right, you had pushed your limits - and oikawa didn't know the half of how stubborn you were. you weren't about to let the guy that was just making fun of you for being so prude, to change his mind and withhold you from proving yourself. 

  “thanks for the advice, but i promise you i can handle myself.” you spat back at the man hovering over you, proceeding to snatch the blunt back from his hand. 

  oikawa chuckled and shook his head at you, deciding to take a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

  “suit yourself.”

  you continued the assault on your lungs; taking long hits of the remainder of the blunt, coughing hysterically, drowning yourself in water, then repeating the process again. you'd think the group of boys would have some complaints about you hogging the last few hits of their weed, but they just sat back and reveled in the sight of you struggling to keep up your pride, entertained at the sight of your flushed cheeks. 

  it wasn't until you were sucking at practically nothing that you realized you'd finished the blunt, still unsatisfied with the lack of buzz you felt.

  “wow that was exactly what I thought it would be, a total waste of money and lung health.” you laughed dryly, leaning back onto the couch in discontent. 

  “not your money.” mattsun rolled his eyes at you.

  “just wait till it hits, she’ll be fucked.” makki laughed loudly at your expense, nodding his head in your direction at mattsun. 

  all the guys chuckled in unison, they seemed to do that a lot through out the night.

  “glad our weed was just a waste to you, maybe buy your own next time.” oikawa’s eyes held mischief in them as they glared at you, a playful scowl on his lips.

  “oh i’m sorry, did i waste your precious weed?” you jutted your bottom lip out in a faux pout, your eyes containing an unintentionally seductive glint in them. 

  oikawa narrowed his eyes back at you, feeding into the little game you were starting. 

  “yeah, I think you did. how ‘bout you pay up for it, hm sweetheart?” he leaned over his lap, forearms resting on the tops of his thighs and his face nearing closer to yours. 

  your mouth opened to retort something back, but words failed to come out as your vision started becoming hazy and an urge to laugh started sprouting in your stomach. you couldn't contain the laughter that spilled from your mouth, cheeks heating up and body beginning to feel numb. 

  “yeah...she’s gone.” iwaizumi chuckled. 

  oikawa smirked at you, his face still so close to yours that you could faintly feel the warmth of his breath on you. 

  “no i’m not...” you let out a few more giggles as you felt a numbing feeling take over your arms and legs. you slapped your legs in hopes to regain some feeling in them, giggling once again at how heightened your senses were becoming. 

  “oh god, wasn't expecting to have to babysit today.” makki groaned from the other side of the couch.

  “you literally aren't doing anything.” mattsun prodded back at him.

  “true, this is oikawa’s problem now.”

  the chesnut-haired man chuckled in front of you, pressing his hands to his knees as he pushed himself off the coffee table.

  “there's no way i’m letting you get in an uber tonight, come with me.” he held his hand out in front of your face.

  your mind was on a whole different level than his. your vision felt extremely clear, you couldn’t help how your eyes trailed over every tattoo and vein running down oikawa’s hand and forearm right in front of you - mouth unapologetically agape at the sight. 

  “come on, don't give me a hard time, yeah?” his voice sounded smoother than you ever heard it, it echoed in your brain and overstimulated your senses. you wanted to hear more. 

  “no.” you pouted, reddening eyes glancing up through your lashes to lock with his. 

  “no?”

  “no.” you were firm, or tried to be, another fit of giggles threatened to bubble out of your throat. 

  he cocked an eyebrow at you, clearly not following your message. 

  “want...oikawa...” you were unable to finish your sentence, your brain suddenly forgetting what words were supposed to come next.

  he leaned down to your height with his hands propped up against his knees, face merely inches from yours. he held a permanent smirk on his lips and his eyes teased you with faux seduction, oikawa almost always knew what he was doing. 

  “want me to do what?” his voice was lower than usual, softer too. 

  “need...” you knew you needed something, you just couldn't think of what.

  “yeah? keep going, baby.”

  you furrowed your brows in frustration, your brain was a little too hazy for your liking and the small bit of rationality that you still had inside you was getting fed up with how stupid you were acting. 

  “kiss.” you blurted out, then bit your lip and dropped your gaze as if you just exposed a secret that you weren't supposed to tell anymore. 

  “a kiss where?” he taunted you, bringing a finger underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his once more. 

  what felt like a few seconds to you - was almost a full minute in real time, of you staring up at oikawa; mouth agape, eyes hooded, not saying a word.

  “everywhere.” he almost couldn't hear you, because of how soft your words came out. 

  oikawa didn't show it, but his stomach erupted in warmth at your words, that same warmth flooding down to his crotch. he bit his tongue before responding to you, he knew damn well you were in no state of mind to be making these decisions. 

  but you just looked so pretty sitting below him like that; eyes lidded with the daze from your high mixed with lust, lips parted, and legs crossed to cover up the growing wetness coming from your core. 

  “mmm, tempting, but i don't particularly enjoy taking advantage of women while they're high.” he sighed, shaking his head in hopes it would get rid of his lewd thoughts.

  you pouted in return. sure, the buzz from your high was strong, strong enough to make you regret how bold you were acting when you woke up tomorrow, but not strong enough to have sex with someone you had no interest in. no, you had been looking him up and down all night long. you wanted this, the buzz just gave you the confidence you didn't have before - and who were you not to take this opportunity? 

  it wasn't just the lack of rationality from your high that made you want this from him, it was the heightened senses. every time you were close to him, everytime his eyes gazed over yours, you felt a million sparks burst through out your body. you were convinced that the second he touched you, your skin would ignite with flames. 

  you grabbed his hand, pulling him back in to destroy the distance he made between you two. 

  “i know what i want, and i've wanted this the whole night. despite what you think, i’m not some virgin mary. so are you gonna continue to act like a little pussy, or are you going to fuck mine?” 

  a gasp was heard from the right of you, makki. he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth after oikawa sent a glare his way. 

  “and what happens when you regret this tomorrow?” he raised an eyebrow down at you playfully.

  “something tells me that, that won't happen... unless, you're saying that it's short?” you questioned him with a gaze that fluttered down to his crotch, then back up to his eyes. 

  oikawa had to hold back the growl that threatened to escape his lips, and the hand that twitched in anticipation to squeeze your throat. 

  “oh, it’s most certainly not.”

  you had expected oikawa to take you back to his room, at least. 

  you didn't think he'd wrap his hand around your throat and push you up against the couch right there. 

  right in front of makki and mattsun.

  right next to iwaizumi. 

  you struggled against the strength of oikawa’s death grip around your neck, unsure if your hazy vision was from the loss of air you were getting or the impending high from the weed. 

  “you said you wanted to be fucked, right?” oikawa’s words were laced with a venom you hadn't heard from him before, his eyes sadistically glaring down into yours. 

  you opened your mouth to respond, but your words were cut off with a harsh cough from the painful position you were in. 

  “c’mon ‘kawa, at least loosen your grip a little.” iwaizumi’s voice of reason brought a warmth to your chest, suddenly grateful for his presence. 

  oikawa smirked above you, moving his hand from its grip on your throat to mindlessly caress the outside of your breasts, thumb pressing against the material of your dress where your nipples would be. 

 “fine, but only ‘cause iwa-chan said so.” you glared up at him, your competitive nature fighting the fear of him choking you again.

  you cleared your throat, well aware of the burning sensation still evident in your wind pipe, “i said i wanted to be fucked, yes, but not in front of your friends.” 

  that earned a chuckle from makki and mattsun - and a smirk from oikawa and iwaizumi. 

  “but i thought you wanted to prove you werent a little prude, i thought you would want to prove my friends wrong - or are you a coward like i predicted?” his thumb and middle finger were now pinching your nipple through the thin material of your dress and your bralette, making you squirm underneath him. 

  you could feel what you only assumed to be the peak of your high reaching, it was making every touch and every word from oikawa feel and sound 10 times better than it would've before. at this point you were willing to fuck him wherever he wanted. 

  cheeks flushed, and eyes averted to the side - away from oikawa’s face, you muttered a “fine.”

  “what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.”

  “i said fine.”

  makki joined in on the teasing, “wait, what did she say oikawa? i cant hear from all the way over here.” 

  god, you couldn’t stand these fuckers.

  “i said, it’s fucking fine. jesus chri-” your aggrivated screams at the men were soon cut off by oikawa’s tight grip on your jaw, a searing kiss pressed against your lips soon following.

  “enough talking, you need to take my dick now.” oikawa was breathless after engaging in the fiery kiss, he was soon found ripping off your dress.

  you felt it, you felt the peak of your high approaching. everything felt so fucking good; his hands grazing your body as he ripped your dress off, the burning stares of makki, mattsun, and iwaizumi, and the empty buzz in the back of your head - it all made you feel breathless. 

  oikawa noticed your dazed out face, he hadn't even fucked you yet and you already appeared to be full of bliss. 

  “no fair, she’s high out of her mind and i’m sober. do me a favor and roll me a blunt while i eat her out, makki.” oikawa pouted above you, continuing to discard your clothing while he waited for makki to prepare him a blunt.

  you may have been peaking, but your mind jumped at the thought of oikawa eating you out. you were suddenly becoming extremely aware of the situation at hand again. 

  “i- are you sure about-” you stuttered, shaky hands from the numbing feeling of your high came down to grip at the soft panties you wore that oikawa was attempting to rip off. 

  “‘s the matter? has our little virgin mary never had her pussy licked before?” oikawa smirked down at your burning body, both burning in embarrassment and in an immense amount of desire. 

  you decided to stay silent, gaze averting to the side once again.

  oikawa wasn't having it, he gripped your chin with his free hand - pulling your gaze back to his.

  “you were all bark before, where's the bite? don't disappoint me now, y/n” his gaze was intense, to say the least, and your body still felt like it was floating from the peak. 

  you swallowed the thickness inside your throat, building the small amount of courage you had left. 

  “i can bite, and i will.” you looked up at him with complete malice, and he mirrored your expression, adding his trademark smirk to his lips. 

  “we’ll see about that, little one.” 

  the unexpected nickname had your head spinning, you were quick to feel a familiar heartbeat thumping down towards your core. 

  you soon felt extremely aware of the way he was touching you, head lowering down towards your thighs, gently pushing your hand away from its grip on your panties. 

  it was true, you hadn't been eaten out before. you only had sex once and your boyfriend at the time finished in 30 seconds, tops - leaving you unsatisfied and humiliated. 

  but oikawa felt different, even though the sex was initiated to save your pride - a competitive desire to prove yourself to people you had just met - you could tell that behind his teasing, he cared about your pleasure. it showed in his small touches; the way he gently caressed your skin before ridiculing you, the way his eye flickered up to yours before dipping his head in-between your thighs. you sensed the emotions he held deep inside of him, the ones he kept hidden. maybe that's the reason you felt you could trust him, maybe that's why you didn't run out of his house the second you saw his sketchy friends.

  maybe that’s why you so badly wanted to prove yourself to him. 

  makki began to roll a blunt, as instructed by oikawa, as he began eating you out. mattsun and iwaizumi’s eyes burned holes into your skin as they watched.

  your body twitched after the first few licks from him, immediately becoming obsessed with the feeling. oikawa’s tongue felt warm and soft against your clit, the slow pace of the circles around the bud were driving your body crazy. your thighs instinctively went to close around his head, but he held them down with a firm grasp, only intensifying the pace of his tongue in disapproval of how your body misbehaved.

  “relax.” he drawled into your skin, continuing his assault on your clit.

  you bit your lip and nodded in response, trying to keep your calm as your body had never experienced such pleasure before. 

  oikawa expertly switched his tongue from your clit to your hole, replacing the stimulation on your clit with his thumb whilst fucking you slowly with his firm tongue. you unintentionally let out a loud whine, head thrusting back into the plush pillow of the couch and fingers going to thread in oikawa’s brown locks.

  “feels good?” the voice came from next to you, iwaizumi’s. 

  your eyes glazed over to his, lids becoming heavy and lips parting open as you panted out a “yes.”

  oikawa noticed your attention diverting over from him to his best friend, his brows furrowed in annoyance. to grasp your attention once more, he removed his tongue from your hole and replaced it on your clit again, then shoved his middle finger inside you with no warning - making sure to curl it all the way up. 

  his harsh actions against your cunt had you loudly moaning with your head thrown back in both pain and pleasure. just one of his fingers alone filled you up more than your exes entire cock ever did. 

  your eyes immediately squeezed shut at the feeling, toes curling from the sensation of his finger thrusting inside you, mixed with the feeling of his tongue swirling your clit. 

  oikawa lifted his head to click his tongue at you, “no baby, you’re gonna look at me while you cum, okay?” 

  his tone was sweet, but firm enough to make you quickly shoot your eyes open and nod at him obediently. 

  he mumbled a “good girl” before going back to licking up and down your cunt. he went through a routine of switching between circling your clit, swiping his tongue from side to side, sucking on your swollen bud, and rapidly lapping up your pussy - all while fucking you with his finger. 

  he didn't even get the chance to add a second finger before you felt your climax approaching. your head was still spacey from the high, so you weren't sure if this feeling was from oikawa or if it was just your hazy brain, but you found out sooner than later as you orgasm began to take over you. 

  oikawa got the idea that you were reaching your climax as your little hole pulsed around his finger and your legs shook around his head. as much as he wanted to tease and edge you, he decided he wanted to fuck you more.

  he helped you ride out your orgasm as his tongue prodded at your clit relentlessly, licking and sucking at the firm bud, finger curling further and further into the depths of your gummy walls, 

  euphoria took over you as you felt the numbing feeling from your high intertwine with the body-racking orgasm that oikawa was providing you. your entire body felt lighter than it ever had before; sweet, pure release exiting your body. 

  your head was spinning and your chest was heaving from the aftermath, your body began to feel extremely tired. the weight from the entire day you had came crashing over you, as the sweet release you once felt subsided. you felt good, but you needed a nap. 

  through eyes that were barely open, you watched as oikawa smirked down at your disheveled form and carefully grabbed something from makki’s outstretched hand. 

  “glad you enjoyed that, princess, but it’s my turn now.” oikawa stealthily unbuttoned his pants after placing his blunt in-between his lips, strategically sucking in the smoke and blowing it out without having to remove the object from his lips. 

  you nodded at him, half-understanding what he meant. you were by no means sober, but you definitely felt the strong buzz dying down. 

  “i’m gonna need verbal responses, sweetheart.” he leaned down just above your face, breathing out smoke as he got closer. the strong scent filled up your nostrils.

  you couldn't help but scrunch your nose up at the strong smell, you may have been sucking down a blunt yourself not even 30 minutes ago, but you would never get used to the grotesque odor. 

  oikawa noticed, and raised a curious brow at you. 

  ���ah, so we still think weed is gross? after you smoked almost an entire blunt by yourself?” his tone seemed amusing, but his eyes told a whole different story.

  “god, first she wastes our weed and now she acts like she didn't even like it?” mattsun crossed his arms over his chest while facing you, eyes giving your naked body a once over. 

  you were too blissed out to even fight them this time, you just desperately wanted a nap, 

  “hey, all i said was that i’d prove to you guys i’m not a prude, and i did. doesn't mean i have to like the smell of your stinky weed.” your words were mumbled from your tired state, but still not wanting to accept defeat.

  “nah, i don't think you’ve proved yourself at all yet.” makki chuckled dryly at you.

  “yeah, all you've done is get high and be a fucking pillow princess for oikawa.” mattsun chimed in.

  “and a brat too.” makki added on to mattsun’s sentence. 

  oikawa raised his chin cockily, clearly satisfied with his friend’s insolent words. 

  then, an idea clicked in his mischievous mind. he narrowed his eyes down at your pathetic figure sprawled out underneath him as he thought about it. 

  “oh please, don't be sore losers. i smoked your fucking weed and let oikawa eat me out, just admit i’m not a prude like you thought i was.” you tried to regain the similar confident composure that you held before, glaring over at makki and mattsun. 

  “hmm, maybe you aren't a prude, but you're still a pretentious brat, and brats deserve to be tamed. don't you think?” oikawa’s voice was smooth and easy-going, but his words were dripping with malice.

  you found the courage to narrow your eyes back up at oikawa, despite the internal feeling of your heart hammering against your chest.

  “and how do you plan on doing that?” you tested him.

  he chuckled lowly at your obviously feigned confidence, he could just tell by your flushed cheeks.

  he lowered his face to hover above yours for the nth time that night, placing the blunt in-between his lips and sucking the smoke into his mouth. before even inhaling, he pulled your bottom lip down with his thumb and put his lips on yours, releasing the thick smoke into your mouth. 

  your once lidded eyes were now widened, your hand quickly came up to grab at oikawa’s arm. he pulled away quickly, chuckling at how you choked on the smoke - eyes watering up again just as they had done before. 

  “you-” you choked out another cough, “asshole.”

  oikawa raised an eyebrow at you, reveling in the way his best friends laughed from the sidelines at your expense.

  “mmm, i don't think you're in any position to be calling me names.”

  you glared up at him, quickly blinking away the stray tears that remained in-between your lashes.

  “oh, and what position would that be?” the fire you held before was coming back, and this time it wasn't because you wanted to prove yourself.

  no, you just wanted to see how far you could push him. 

  a familiar large hand came up instinctively to wrap around your throat, pushing you against the couch once again as he tauntingly held the burning blunt inches away from your face. 

  “i wouldn't test me, darling. clearly, you aren't aware of how far i'll go to put a bitch like you in your place.” he spat down at you, his eyes were dark and he was still holding the glowing blunt way too close to your face for your liking.

  but you couldn't stop yourself, you kept pushing and pushing. 

  “show me then. i’m not getting any younger here, am i?” 

  a laugh was heard from your right, it was quickly muffled as mattsun slapped a hand over the mouth of its carrier: makki, of course.

  oikawa clicked his tongue at your confidence, knowing damn well that you'd regret it later. 

  “sure, i’ll show you.” he spoke in a low voice as he brought the hand holding his blunt down your body, stopping when he reached your thigh. you sucked in a nervous breath in anticipation, the burning bud was only a centimeter away from the smooth skin of your exposed thigh. your heartbeat was increasing and you felt your blood running cold, you opened your mouth to protest at the last moment, but the sadistic man beat you to it.

  you felt a burning sensation press into the outside of your thigh, causing you to immediately grab at oikawa’s arm with a shrill scream escaping your mouth. the man only laughed above you, nudging your death grip on his arm off with ease.

  “what’s the matter? i thought you could handle it.” he jutted his bottom lip out to feign a sorrowful expression, you wanted to kill him. 

  “you just- you just fucking burned me.” your chest was heaving and you felt yourself slowly getting terrified at what would come next.

  the boys next to you were silent as they watched the scene unfold, oikawa could only smirk down at you. 

  he pulled another hit out of the blunt and dipped his head in-between the crevice of your neck and shoulder. you tensed at the feeling of his lips being so close to your skin, then relaxed when you felt him blow the warm smoke into your skin. the subtle feeling of the warmth from the smoke ghosting over your skin almost made you moan out loud. instead, your body betrayed you with a shudder.

  “mmm, something tells me you liked that. don't act so innocent, little slut.” your breath hitched at his words.

  “just because i may have liked that, doesn't mean i enjoyed being used as an ashtray.” you gestured towards your scorned thigh.  

  he chuckled lowly at you, then brought his free hand down towards the burn mark left in your skin and pressed his thumb against it slowly. this time, the painful feeling of a sting in your skin forced a guttural moan out of your throat, instead of a screech. you instinctively brought your hand up to cover your mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment. 

  “really? ‘cause i think you do.” oikawa laughed at your obvious humiliation and pulled your hand away from your mouth, rolling his eyes in the process.  

  “c’mon, quit acting like a damn prude still, darling. admit you're enjoying this shit.” mattsun spoke from his spot on the couch, now resting his right arm over the side of the couch to get a better look at you. 

  you scoffed at him, cocking your head towards him in response. 

  “i thought i was a brat, not a prude anymore.” 

  makki chuckled at your rebuttal.

  “’kawa, i think she’s getting a little too feisty again, you might wanna smoke her out again.” 

  you almost choked at his words, quickly whipping your head back to face oikawa. you felt your stomach drop at the devilish smirk he gave you. 

  you were just beginning to sober up, and they already wanted you dumbed down again? 

  “fair point, makki. i can't fuck her while she’s running her mouth like this, right?”

  before you knew it, your mouth was being filled with smoke again. oikawa restarted his method of sucking on the blunt before pressing his lips to yours again. your mind was entering a similar haze as before once again, body also being filled with warmth and pleasure as oikawa began rubbing his bare cock against your pussy. 

  before sliding in, he pressed his shortening blunt against your skin once more - this time, on the fat of your right hip. you pleasantly moaned at both the pain and pleasure from the sensation this time, and oikawa couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your walls visibly crashing down. 

  he didn't even give you a second to adjust to the searing pain you felt on your skin before he was thrusting into you, causing you to practically scream at the feeling of his cock stretching you out. 

  “oh, f-fuck.” your nails made their home on the skin of his back, sinking into his smooth flesh in response to the pain you felt in your core. to your dismay, the numbing feeling that spread across your body from your high didn't help at all to prevent the newfound pain from oikawa’s cock entering you. 

  “god, look at her. our little virgin mary is being corrupted.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from across the couch. you were surprised to look over and see him fisting his own girthy cock while staring down at you, makki and iwa were doing the exact same thing. 

  oikawa chuckled breathlessly at his comment, earning your attention back to him. 

  “shit, you're tighter than i expected, princess.” his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his eyes were slightly hooded from his approaching high, and his tattoo littered arms were flexed in front of you for support - you decided you had never been more turned in your entire life. 

  “move, please.” you begged breathlessly, head feeling hazy and numb, while your body felt extremely sensitive to the touch. your senses were heightened once again and it had you craving an orgasm more than ever. 

   “since you asked so politely.” oikawa’s hips began snapping at that moment, hard thrusts sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

  next to you, the three boys began pumping their cocks with more fervor, pace quickening in time with oikawa’s. 

  oikawa didn't cease his antics of blowing smoke into your mouth either. with his cock slamming into you at such an ungodly speed, your lips were constantly parted open - leaving him easy access to fill up your lungs with the same smoke you disdained so much. 

  your body was betraying your mind. physically, you felt fucking amazing - but mentally, you wanted to yell at oikawa to quit his abuse on your lungs. 

  “q-quit it with the smoke. i think i’m high enough.” you stumbled over your words.

  oikawa bit down on your neck in response to your distaste, hot breath fanning over your ear to whisper lowly, “quit being a fucking brat first, and take what i give you.” 

  you shut your mouth obediently, until makki chimed in.

  “you should be grateful that oikawa is being so generous as to blow his weed into your mouth without making you do a damn thing. say thank you, slut.” his words were harsh and gritted through his clenched teeth as he pumped his cock harder, eyes burning into your skin. 

  you whimpered at his pitiless words and at the feeling of oikawa thrusting into you with more power, clearly encouraged by his friends praise.

  “i-” your remark was cut off by oikawa’s firm hand around your throat once more.

  “what do you have to say to me?” his eyes burned into yours, telling you that his question was not actually a question, but a demand. 

  “t-thank you, oikawa.” your eyes were brimming with tears from the lack of oxygen circulating towards your brain. 

  he only squeezed harder.

  “what's my fucking name.” his lips were ghosting over yours now, his hot breath only added to the heat that was already evident on your face. 

  your bottom lip wobbled, you had no idea what kind of name he would like. if you guessed wrong, what would he do?

  “thank you, sir.” you silently prayed you chose the right one, and your prayer was granted as oikawa removed his tight grip from your throat and smashed his lips onto yours - practically growling into the kiss. 

  you moaned into his mouth as you felt the pleasure in your stomach building up at an increasingly fast speed. your head was spinning and your body was on fire, you never felt better in your life.

  “feels...so fucking good.” your words came out in pants. you could barely think straight anymore; your mind was only filled with oikawa’s cock and the impending numbness from weed. 

  your attention was snatched from oikawa as you heard a deep guttral moan come from the side of you, it was iwaizumi’s. the once quiet man was becoming more vocal as his own orgasm was approaching.

  “yeah, you like getting high and getting fucked in front of random strangers you just met, huh?” your face burned at his surprising words, never did you expect to hear such a sentence come from (what you thought was) such a polite man’s mouth. 

  then again, you never even expected you would ever be in a situation like this before either. 

  “y-yes, i do.” your walls had broken down and they could all see it. there was no more sticking your nose up at them anymore, no more bratty comments at the expense of their drug of choice, and no more pretending like you weren't enjoying yourself tonight - because you clearly were. 

  the boys chuckled all at once at your sudden submission, but oikawa wasn't surprised. 

  there was only a small bud left of what was the blunt in oikawa’s hand, but he manage to suck one more hit out of it. you parted your lips with expectations of him to release the puff of smoke into your mouth, but to your surprise, he ducked his head above your left breast and let out the smoke slowly over your perked nipple. the subtle sensation left goosebumps all over your body, causing you to moan under his soft touch.

  see, unbeknownst to you, oikawa was a man of observation - and he couldn't help but become blatantly aware of your body’s hypersensitivity to the small, subtle actions he went about. whether it be from the weed or from your inexperience in sexual situations, oikawa didn't know. he just knew he was extremely fascinated and infatuated with the way your body reacted to him. 

  he bored down into your lidded, reddening eyes, your lips were parted as you panted out his name and the look on your face only told him that you were gone.

  he swore he had never fucked somebody prettier than you, he silently hoped one day he'd get to see you with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

  unable to help himself, oikawa stuck his thumb into your mouth, pushing the digit as far in as it would go. 

  you were taken aback by the action at first, but your mind was quickly put at ease by the warm feeling of being filled by him in two different places at once. you swirled your tongue around his finger, both sucking on it and licking it.

  the sight in front of him had his knees practically buckling above you, he couldn't fight the approaching feeling of his orgasm unraveling before him. 

  “you're gonna be a good little girl and let me cum inside you, yeah?” his voice was hoarse, moans and grunts beginning to spill from his lips more while he looked down at you with complete darkness in his eyes. 

  god, you weren't thinking straight.

  but you really didn't care. 

  you nodded as best as you could with the spinning feeling inside your head, body filling to the brim with pleasure as you felt your own orgasm approaching you. oikawa quickened his pace as he felt your cunt squeezing his girth, almost like your body had a mind of its own to suck him dry. 

  “such a little slut, letting you fill her up with smoke and cum.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from beside iwaizumi. his eyes were still glued to your form and the head of his cock was a bright red, begging for release. 

  “let’s see you try and act fucking innocent again after this.” makki added with a chuckle, he was just as close to finishing as his friend. 

  you moaned helplessly at their ridicules, feeling your coil so close to snapping.

  “god, you fucking revel in the attention don't you? you're literally getting off from being watched like this, so exposed and vulnerable.” mattsun spoke up again.

  yours and oikawa’s labored breathing harmonized as you both got closer and closer to your releases. 

  “they're right, you're such a little fucking attention whore. sucking in my cock like that while my friends watch. you're so desperate, it’s pathetic.” oikawa was internally amazed at himself for being able to muster a complete sentence out while his cock was so close to being practically milked. 

  you whined in response, your cheeks heating up. you didn't care about anything else, you just wanted to cum. 

  “p-please, i'm so close.” you cried out, tears beginning to brim at your eyes. 

  “fuck. cum, cum princess.” the voice came from your right side, your eyes trailed over to the source, being iwaizumi. 

  oikawa scoffed, “you don't listen to anyone else, got that? just me, sweetheart.” he shot daggers with his eyes towards iwaizumi, and he shot them right back at oikawa. 

  you blinked your eyes at oikawa, not realizing the competitive banter between them until now.

  “let her fucking cum already, ‘kawa.” iwa growled at his best friend, his cock was an angry red. you could tell he just wanted to finish, as well as makki and mattsun. 

  oikawa gritted his teeth, knowing damn well that his orgasm was approaching too. 

  “alright, cum for me, slut. squeeze my fucking cock with that pretty little cunt of yours, okay?” 

  his wish was your command, and it’s not like you were able to hold back anymore, anyway.

  you felt the coil snap inside you; already fuzzy mind going completely blank, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, and thighs shaking around oikawa’s torso. he felt your cunt pulse around his cock and he couldn't help how quick his orgasm followed after yours, teeth instinctively latching onto your shoulder as he pumped you full of his semen. 

  oikawa helped you ride out your high as he slowed down his thrusts, eventually ceasing them. your orgasm combined with oikawa’s was so intense, that you failed to even acknowledge that the three boys next to you were coming too, fists beginning to slow down their movements. 

  after a few minutes of collective panting heard throughout the room, makki broke the silence.

  “holy shit.”

  you agreed, holy shit was right. 

  after passing out on oikawa’s couch from pure exhaustion, the sobering-up man carried you, with some effort, to his room to spend the night. being the gentleman he was, he tucked you in carefully under the covers of his bed and set up a somewhat comfortable sleeping arrangement for himself on the living room couch. 

  before retreating to his makeshift bed to crash on for the night, he peaked into his room once more - eyes scanning over your sleeping figure as you slept soundly. he noticed that while you slept, all the worry and pouting that was usually so evident on your face seemed to fade away. you look relaxed, at ease even. he thought maybe you just needed to loosen up more, to let your worries fade away every so often, while you lose yourself in the late hours of the night.

  he thought that maybe, he could be the one to teach you how. 

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 4

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

The three of you gathered around the kitchen island and ate the pizza.  Well, more like Steve and Bucky inhaled a whole pizza each while you ate two slices.  The pizza was delicious, probably the best you’d ever had and your stomach was grateful for the yumminess.

“Why don’t you tell us a little about yourself Y/N?” Bucky asked as he licked the grease off his lips.

“What do you want to know?” you replied.  

“Let’s start with your family and where you grew up.”

You shrugged as you wiped your fingers with a napkin.  “There isn’t really much to say.  I grew up in a small town in the Midwest.  Both my parents died when I was a teenager.  I never knew my grandparents and I was an only child, same with my parents, so I don’t have any other family.  I moved here when I was 20,” you stated honestly.  Well, mostly at least.  Yes, it was true both of your parents died, but how they died was tragic.  They both committed suicide.  First your mother, then your father one year later.  As far back as you could research, mental health issues unfortunately ran in your family and that was including you.  But you weren’t ready to open up that old wound yet. You were on medication to help it and that was that.  Luckily the dosing you were on worked well and you could only hope you wouldn’t need to adjust your medications anytime soon.  

“We know how you feel doll. Obviously all of our family is gone too. But we can make a new family with the three of us,” Bucky stated as he wrapped his metal arm around your shoulders. You liked the sound of that.  The three of you becoming your own family. It sounded nice.  

You gave Bucky a wide smile, mirroring his.  “What have your past relationships looked like?” Steve announced from the other side of you.  

This was something you had been debating on bringing up.  If you weren’t going to tell them about your mental health issues just yet, you didn’t want to lie and be dishonest about John as well.  Taking a deep breath, you held it in for five seconds before releasing it.  “I’ve only been in one relationship before.  His name was John, John Smith.  He’s in prison right now.”

From the corner of your eye you could see Steve clench his fist; his knuckles cracking in the process.   “What happened?” he growled out.    

“He…he umm.  Well, he hit me,” you said, almost as quiet as a mouse but you knew both men had super hearing and they damn well heard you.  

Steve slammed his fist on the granite countertop making you flinch.  

“Steve!” Bucky barked at him in anger.  “You’re not making this situation any better right now.  Calm the fuck down and let her talk.”  Bucky soothed his arm up and down your back.  “Go ahead doll.   We’re listening.”

Nodding, you began to speak again.  “Things were great in the beginning.  He seemed like everything I could have ever asked for in a man.  I didn’t know if or when I would ever meet the two of you so I decided to live my life and date him.   The first six months were a whirlwind of romance.  He was the most charming man I had ever met.  But then things took a turn when I moved in with him. I was ready to have sex yet, but he was sick of waiting.  That first night I moved in, he…he raped me.”

This time you saw Bucky’s right hand clench on the table in front of you while Steve knocked his chair over as he stood up, pacing the kitchen.  “Go on doll,” Bucky urged, trying to keep the anger out of his voice as best he could for you.

“That was just the first time.  He umm, he did it again for weeks.  I wanted to leave, I really did.  But he was rich and he had security around the house.  I knew I couldn’t just up and leave.  Finally, when he demanded I quit my job, I stood up to him and told him no. That was the first time he hit me. That continued for months.  I was ready to give up on myself.”

“What happened next huh? How did he end up in prison?” Steve demanded as he leaned over the counter, staring at you with those piercing eyes.  

“I got lucky,” you replied. “We were out shopping one day.  He felt bad for the wrist he broke the night before so he took me shopping.  One of the sales ladies escorted me into a fitting room and I slipped her a note letting her know what was going on.  I stayed in the fitting room for as long as possible.  And then I heard them.  The police. The sales lady called the police for me and they took him away.  He’s been locked up ever since.”

Closing your eyes, you let the tears slip down your cheek.  “You were so brave,” Bucky cooed as you felt his lips on the top of your head.

“Look at me Y/N,” Steve demanded yet again and that deep feeling to please him was happening again. You snapped your head up and looked directly into his eyes.  “That will never happen in this relationship. Do you understand me?”  You simply nodded.  “Bucky and I would never hurt you like that.  Ever.  You have our word.”  As soon as he finished talking, he stormed out of the kitchen and down the hallway to where you only assumed was his room.  

“Just give him a minute to cool off sweetheart,” Bucky spoke in your ear.  “Stevie gets pent up sometimes and he has a lot on his plate. He may seem like it, but he’s not mad at you.  I promise.”

You collapsed into Bucky’s chest and softy sobbed.  It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and you were relieved to have told them about John.  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that doll.  That will never happen to you again.  We won’t let anything like that happen.”

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes later when Steve emerged from his room.  “How about we go down and show you the communal kitchen and living room.  Give you a little tour.  What do you say?”

A small smile broke across your face.  “I’d like that very much.”

As the elevators opened to the communal floor, you jaw dropped.  If you thought Steve and Bucky’s apartment was big, this was ten times the size. Not only were there ample more couches, the television was bigger and there was a large dining table big enough to sit at least twenty people.  

“Holy crap,” you exclaimed in awe.  

“Yeah, Tony likes to go big if you couldn’t already tell,” Steve joked.  

“You think?” you quipped back, earning a smirk from Steve.  

The entire space was void of anyone except the three of you as Steve pulled you further into the living room.  He explained that the group tries to do a movie night at least once a week.  “To make things as fair as possible, Tony pulls a name out of a hat to see who gets to pick the movie that night,” Bucky said.

“Yeah but it doesn’t really work.  There is still always complaining and bitching from everyone else.  Mainly Clint,” Steve chimed in.  

It made you giggle, genuinely giggle and it felt good.  That hadn’t happened in quite some time.  

Steve and Bucky guided you towards the hallway, explaining that these were the ‘hobby rooms’ of everyone and their soulmates.  Steve opened the door to the one at the end of the all on right left side.  

“This will be your room. You can make it anything you want. But I’m going to guess this will be your game room where you work.”

“That would be correct,” you answered as you turned on the light.  The room was very decent sized and you would have no problem fitting all of your gamer stuff in here.  Hell, there would be a lot of room left over and you were quickly trying to think what else you could fit in here.  

“C’mon.  Let’s go back to our floor and we can show you your room up there.”

On the elevator ride back to their apartment, Steve and Bucky explained who all lived in the tower and who their soulmates were.  Tony and Pepper were soulmates together, along with Bruce.  Bruce was best friends with Tony and more of a brother figure to Pepper. Then there was Natasha, Clint and Darcy Lewis and they were all in an intimate relationship together.  Lastly, there was Thor and Jane but they didn’t stay in the tower too much as they spent most of their time on Asgard.  

Steve stopped in front of your door.  It was across the hall from Bucky’s and right next door to Steve’s.  

“Go ahead and open it,” Steve said with a smile.  “Just place your hand over the screen.”

Taking a deep breath, you did as he said and placed your hand, palm down, on the digital screen where there would normally have been a doorknob.  With a soft click, the door opened for you and you walked into your new place.  It was nothing like what you were thinking. You were honestly just guessing it would be a bedroom, but no, this was an entire apartment.  

Straight ahead was a decent sized kitchen.   There was dark cherry wood cabinet with black granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.  To the left is what you would assume would be the living room, however it was completely bare of any furniture.  As you continued to move through the apartment you found that the bedroom was all the way in the back.  It was a very nice sized master bedroom with the biggest walk in closet and on suite bathroom you had ever seen.  

“What do you think?” Bucky asked as he came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders.  

“It’s big,” you replied with a chuckle.  

“I’m going to have Tony’s interior designer email you.  Give him examples and ideas of what you would like and she will make it happen.  Don’t worry about prices.  This is Tony’s gift to you.”

Your eyes grew wide at his statement.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes sweetheart,” Steve replied as he slipped his hand in yours.  “We want the best for you.  Whatever you want this new home of yours to look like, then so be it.  We will make it happen for you.”

~~~

That night as you lay in bed after spending time with Steve and Bucky, you couldn’t help but frown. Things had seemed to be going much better tonight than they did when you first met them two days ago.  Now, you had to pack up your apartment and move. You weren’t really nervous about that part, hell, you were looking forward to it.  But then it meant things were starting to get real.  When things start to get intimate with them, would you be able to let yourself go and do that?  Would things be vanilla in the bedroom? Would you be able to tell them that because the only sexual experiences you’ve ever had was being raped, that you could now only get yourself off on violent fantasies of being raped, or tied up, or choked?  Fuck, what was wrong with you?

[mangodestroyer]

I would totally be okay with writing a fanfic like that. Only problem is that I am currently working on so many other fics at the moment and really need to pick up the pace if I ever hope to complete any of them. I really like the ideas you are sharing. I must confess. I don't actually know much about muckbang or its community. I just thought it might be something Crowley would be into. Whether it be for a fetish or for the ASMR aspect of it. I also think he might also enjoy the fact that Aziraphale is fat. In the canonverse, he is a snake demon, and in my experience, snakes are actually very cuddly because they like warmth. Aziraphale is probably very soft and warm. Of course he would like a soft and warm boyfriend who likes to eat a lot. And who is also delightfully Aziraphale.

Interestingly, I am currently working on a human AU where it is implied that Crowley has issues with eating. He doesn't have an ED or anything. He's just anxious, impatient, and tends to ignore his needs. He's the kind of guy who will quickly microwave cup ramen in the styrofoam container, take of few bites of it, and toss it. And this is after maybe only eating a few snacks throughout the day with no real meals. Okay, so he might sometimes sit down and enjoy a meal, but the point is, he starves himself without meaning too and probably lives off caffeinated beverages. And I hope no one minds, but there will also be the use of weed involved here. It somewhat helps because it can relieve anxiety and cause the munchies. And, well, he's kinda supposed to be a bit of a mess in my AU, lol.

While I can understand the appeal of Aziraphale being self-conscious about his weight (especially because of all the fat shaming our society practices and people wanting to project onto the character), I personally want to believe that he's proud of his body and doesn't care when people call him fat. If it bothered him, couldn't he miracle himself into being thin? Does he have control over this? Either way, he's fat and he owns it. It's a part of who he is. It's a sign of how much he enjoys food. And again, warm and soft!

If anything, I want to see Crowley feeling insecure about being thin. After all, while I do believe he could be genderfluid, he is a mostly male presenting character. Some men are insecure about being too thin and want to be more muscular. In canon, Crowley tries to come off as a tough, mean demon. He doesn't want to be seen as "soft." And wouldn't he feel bad about being thin because it's seen as a "weakness?" Demons aren't supposed to be weak.

And a little off topic, but one thing I do want to see explored more in canon are his dynamics with Hell. I find it very interesting how the two new snake characters are female presenting. Seeing as female snakes are bigger than male snakes. And one of those ladies looks MEAN. Is it possible that they are also snake demons just like Crowley and are bigger and stronger than him? To me, this would kind of explain part of why he's insecure about being seen as nice or soft (outside of it just being stigmatized in Hell). Although I'm not really sure if this is an element that would be included in canon, as angels and demons are sexless unless they make an effort. So idk if gender identity would have any impact. Hastur did call him a runt though. It is possible he could just be small and weak for the type of demon he is (especially his snake form). Idk if this is a concept that will be included, but I personally like the idea a lot.

Anyway, I could see so many stories coming from the whole muckbang thing. And of course, if we're going to include elements of body insecurities (if that is something the author wishes to include for either Aziraphale or Crowley), then of course we should include Gabriel: the body shaming asshole. You think he'd just pick on Aziraphale for his gut? He'd probably joke about Crowley being scrawny too.

If Crowley likes watching Aziraphale eat, would that mean he's into muckbang?

I've got a feeling there exists a fanfic about this.

[eurhyic]

Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship

Over the years, I have been apart of many, many fandoms. Each of those fandoms has had its flaws, and each has had its strengths. However, I feel that it is important to not only focus on the amazingly good stuff but also acknowledge the not-so-good stuff. In the Good Omens fandom, there is an overwhelming amount of good fandom stuff, but I also feel that there are some misunderstood things that we believe as a fandom. And there is no bigger misunderstanding that I’ve seen than of Aziraphale and Crowley themselves.

There have been having endless debates on twitter that are completely pointless in my opinion. I feel that these arguments start because people interpret Aziraphale, Crowley, and their relationship in completely different ways, and today, I just simply wanted to come on here and reinstate what is canon and what is sort of… changed or twisted… in fics and fandom.

Just as a disclaimer, I don’t actually care what you do. If you want to write fics with soft and insecure Crowley or Aziraphale comforting a crying Crowley after the Apocalypse, go ahead. This is the internet and I can’t stop you from creating. Hell, I would love to see some of those tropes! I simply want to remind everyone what is actually canon for my own wellbeing. Just to say quickly, I will specifically be referring to the TV adaptation of Good Omens in this analysis(?). If you don’t care to read this or you think you won’t be able to hold back from commenting something rude, you are completely free to click away right now. I am not responsible for your reactions to this post and I will not appreciate someone attacking me because I call Crowley an asshole. Don’t leave rude messages on the internet when no one is asking for them. Grow up.

Now, back to the matter at hand.

Aziraphale and Crowley both suffer so so much throughout the entire story. They overcome so much, together and on their own. However, I feel that their characters have been warped in some ways. I am simply here to reinstate in everyone’s minds that these things do exist and are canon.

What I came here to say is that people in the Good Omens fandom seem to forget that Aziraphale is a literal victim of abuse and that Crowley isn’t actually a “good person”.

I would first like to discuss the brainwashing and abuse that Aziraphale has had to go through on the regular when he associated with Heaven.

Aziraphale is led to believe that anything that he does is wrong and should be second-guessed. We are meant to understand this even in the first scene we see him. He is worried about getting reprimanded by his superiors for giving his sword to Adam and Eve, and when Crowley comes up on the wall, he teases Aziraphale, all of which fly right over his head. Aziraphale just simply cannot stop thinking about what he did, and from my interpretation, I assume that his body language and nervous responses, him stuttering and looking up and wringing his hands together, means that. But then when Crowley gives him a sarcastic compliment, not even a real one, we see Aziraphale so relieved that at least someone thinks the way he does. He is so relieved he doesn’t even pick up the ever-present sarcasm.

Later, throughout history especially, we see Aziraphale relishing in his time on earth. If we go by the scenes when Aziraphale and Crowley go to head office in around the early 2010s and we assume that Aziraphale has been going for regular check-ups unlike his Radio and Book counterparts, then we get more insight into his official relationship with Heaven.

I’m just going to say this now because I don’t wish to drag this post out. Gabriel is an abuser.

Gabriel brainwashes Aziraphale and puts him down constantly. It isn’t him just telling Aziraphale that he needs to "lose the gut", it's the canonical way that he tells Aziraphale that his ideas aren't worth anything and that he’ll fail at anything he tries (we see this when Aziraphale tries to report on the antichrist). Or telling Aziraphale just how he should feel about a situation (we see this in the deleted bookshop scene).

If Aziraphale is constantly and constantly hearing these things, it makes sense that he would be scared and insecure of anything that he would see as “stepping out of line”. He wants to be good. Aziraphale is a rule follower at his core, and the way that he is constantly put down hurts over so long.

The only way that Aziraphale is able to rebel in his own little way, is through Crowley and his spending time on earth.

The earth is something that he genuinely loves. It is a comfort to him throughout his nervousness and his situation with Heaven. And Crowley is the same. Crowley is associated with the earth to Aziraphale, and because of that, he simply cannot not love Crowley. Completely and wholeheartedly.

I have seen quite a few people saying that every time Aziraphale cut Crowley off, or “bit back” (ex. Saint James, the bandstand, and final breakup in front of the bookshop), is selfish. I think that is so far from the truth. He does all that to protect Crowley.

Aziraphale does so much for Crowley throughout their time together. While Crowley is jumping for opportunities to be with Aziraphale, Aziraphale is the one that takes a step back to see what the consequences could be (ex. the Globe).

I can assume that the main reason he does this is because he is afraid that something will happen to both himself and Crowley. Even in the Saint James and the Globe scenes, he is frantically looking around and at one point, softly utters that “…they [Hell] won’t just be angry, they’ll destroy you”.

After the Apocalypse, these habits would still be hard to break. He would hardly be in the mental state to comfort Crowley. He will still be looking around and making sure he isn’t being watched for ages. Not because a part of him thinks that Heaven is going to come for himself and Crowley, but because it has been wired into him to practice those behaviors over millennia.

Aziraphale acts like a victim of abuse, constantly overthinking every scenario and decidedly going with the one that he believes will have the least amount of repercussions.

Crowley on the other hand doesn’t.

I just want to start off by saying that Crowley is a bad person. He is a complete asshole. He is mean, and while he is meant to be likable, he is still a literal demon.

Yes, he is “just a little bit, a good person”, but the keyword is right there. “A little bit”.

Throughout the show we see Crowley doing terrible things. Now, he isn’t the type of person to think that genocide is a good idea, etc. Most demons, canonically don’t have an imagination. Crowley is the only one we know of who does, and even he admits that some of the things that the humans think up could never be thought up by a demon.

He mentions this in the book and in the first episode where he states “..the humans beat me to it”.

But besides that, I feel that so much of that fandom forget that he actually does not give a single shit about humans.

Yes, he thinks that humanity and their inventions are so fun and nifty, but I feel that so many people in the fandom forget that he isn’t nice to others and that he’s only nice to Aziraphale.

He gives people guns to kill each other in episode two, he hypnotizes Sister Mary a few minutes later, and he genuinely goes out of his way to make people’s lives harder just for funsies.

He is even mean to Aziraphale on multiple occasions. He asks Aziraphale to kill a child. And while he does so much good for Aziraphale too, stopping time for him, driving through fucking fire for him, and everything in between, he still is a nuisance to Aziraphale.

Crowley isn’t a good person, he is a demon. He is meant to be like that. He is from Hell and he knows what he’s dealing with — to an extent. Crowley has been treated terribly, but the worst we see from his ‘employers' are vague threats and raised voices, and while that could be a form of abuse, it isn’t exactly what Aziraphale has had to go through over his years with Heaven.

However, throughout all of this, one thing that I think mostly everyone can agree on is that Aziraphale and Crowley know these things about the other, and they’re still completely in love with each other. Their relationship is the first relationship in the world alongside Adam and Eve, and I just feel that it’s so wonderful how that is portrayed through the wonderful little love story that we have.

[heartslogos]

the declassified texts of the inquisition's elite [183]

(785): She’s the kind of asshole whose face I want to put on a T-shirt just so I can go outside and burn it.

-

“Well. At least we know Sera’s channeling her energy appropriately. Or at least, attempting to,” Evelyn concludes. She shuffles together files of casework and tosses them into a pile to be read and indexed later.

“Burning effigies is appropriate?”

Evelyn quickly glances at Mahanon. He sounds too interested for this to be a sarcastic question.

“More appropriate than buildings,” Evelyn says, “Do not go around burning effigies of people to terrify them into having a mental break. I’m saying this out loud in as clear and concise terms as I possibly can. Sera’s voicing an urge she most likely isn’t going to act on, but it’s to relieve stress and frustration. She is not going around burning effigies as psychological warfare in order to get people we don’t like to slip up and get caught. The Inquisition utilizes several dubious and incredibly unethical tactics. But we aren’t going to use that one.”

“Yet.”

Evelyn can’t say anything to that qualifier because there’s a lot of things Evelyn would’ve sworn the Inquisition doesn’t do until the exact moment where she had to admit that said specific action would be necessary and crucial to some sort of plot.

There was a time where Evelyn would have been deeply uncomfortable with this. In truth she still is. But most of that has been overridden by the loud and very demanding needs of the present. It’s terrible reasoning and could be picked apart by a dozen theologians and philosophers with ease. But Evelyn’s had to permit terrible things in order to prevent even worse things from happening, or in order to drag the roots of corruption out.

It doesn’t help that Evelyn seems to have surrounded herself in morally gray people who have very little qualms with doing things in an underhanded, borderline evil way.

The Inquisition is a terrible beast and Evelyn hopes that someday she’s able to dismantle it herself before it’s torn asunder by others. For now Evelyn just hopes she’s reigning it in and channeling its focus enough to prevent the worst from happening.

“What’s the progress on finding out the loose ends in the laundering and fraudulent claim case down in Val Royeaux?” Evelyn asks. It’s not her best redirect, but Mahanon’s never cared for such a thing.

Mahanon reaches over and pulls out an envelope from one of the stacks of documents, passing it to her.

“Ready to tie up. The workers are ready to unionize. Or at the very least, blackmail their boss into giving them better working conditions. I don’t know how much they know is going on, or if they even realize that they’re part of a much bigger picture. But they sent us enough evidence to authorize a raid,” Mahanon says, smirk tilting his lips into a lopsided slash. “Sera’s sent Jennies to investigate if this is a trap. The workers are going behind management’s back in order to gather evidence to extort them. They want their boss out and they want him out now.”

Evelyn laughs, “We’ve been trying to find the missing piece for that particular puzzle for months and it just mails itself to our doorstep? Handy. Who flagged this? Whoever they are get them some kind of reward. Being a mail sorter for the Inquisition is a mostly thankless job, but whoever red flagged this and got it up through the intelligence network for verification has a good eye.” Evelyn slowly skims through the documents. They’re very well organized and Evelyn can see that while many important details were sent there’s even more that were not. This is just the tip of the iceberg. She sees how the pieces of the puzzle they’ve been working on for months would fit with the information summarized here.

“They must have been working very hard to gather this much,” Evelyn mutters, clicking her pen. She glances at Mahanon.

“We have copies,” he says, “Mark away.”

Evelyn immediately begins to jot down her preliminary notes; circling and underlining and drawing arrows all over the pages. Take the scholar and professor out of the school, but you can’t take them out of her.

She suspects that she’ll one day rise from the grave to edit her own obituary.

“How soon can we move in?” Evelyn asks. “What’s the time table?”

“Before the employees launch their move, which should be happening any day now. With this amount of evidence direct from the source combined with the strings we’ve already found we should have the necessary permits within the next day,” Mahanon replies. “All that’s left is to determine who’s going and who’s going to handle the investigation.”

“Are you volunteering?”

Mahanon hums, “It’s interesting, but no. Office intrigue is not my area of expertise. I’m sure the end report will be fascinating night reading. You could send Edric, but I expect that you won’t be.”

“And why’s that?”

“You’ve been bored lately,” Mahanon spins his pen between his fingers. “You haven’t done anything worth talking about in almost a whole week. Your’e going yourself.”

Evelyn had considered it. “You sound so sure of yourself.”

Mahanon raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to tell me you were’t going?”

She shrugs. “I had considered it. I wasn’t sure yet, though.”

“You’re going. You’ve been bored and this is the final piece to a very large puzzle that the Inquisition has been attempting to solve for months. You’ll want to see this come together first hand. That’s just how you are. I would consider this a trap to lure you out, but that seems like a stretch.” Mahanon shrugs. “Who do you think you’ll take with you?”

“I’d say Sera, but white collar crime isn’t something she’s particularly good at handling. Not when it’s sensitive. She might offend someone by accident. Or on purpose. I’ll take Harding. She’s very good at organizing these kind of things. And she’s got such a good touch with the interviews. People just like talking to her. Next thing you know you’ve told her your entire life story. We’ll have their biographies in our hands by the end of the day.” Evelyn nods to herself. “Right. I’m taking point, Harding as second. Mahanon deliver this to Harding and get a status on authorizations from Josephine. Tell Cullen I’m going to need some soldiers to move in and secure the building. Aside from Harding I don’t think I’ll need anyone from our intelligence division on scene. Do have a team monitoring outgoing communications from the area though. Just in case we catch something trying to escape.”

“As you say,” Mahanon nods, sweeping the marked up file into his hands. “I’m sure that everyone is going to be deeply relieved to hear that this is coming to a close. It should finally free up some of the budget for the rest of us. And it’ll get you out of Skyhold. Thank the gods.”

“Am I really that unbearable to have around?”

“When you get bored? Absolutely.”

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Can you do 184 with Arthur and a female chubby reader?

So I know that this one was from the NSFT writing prompts, but it turned out to be SFT, so no smut ahead. Also the ending took a very different turn from what I was expecting. 

Read my works on AO3! 

You stand on the edge of camp, not wanting to be around anyone else. You’d been out riding your horse alone earlier today. You’re used to riding alone, even capable of taking care of yourself. You and the others are all like that. It’s one of the requirements of running with the Van der Linde gang. Living the outlaw life comes with a lot of risks. Today, you faced one of them. 

You’d been riding back to the gang, your horse’s back draped in pelts and your satchel heavy with stolen goods, including a fancy watch you’d found in an empty cabin. On your way back to Horseshoe Overlook, you’d been stopped by four other riders. They tried to rob you, but seemed rather new to the whole process as they weren’t frightening at all. 

The leader of the four demanded you surrender your goods. “Fellas, you don’t wanna rob me. Trust me, nothing good will come of that. If you value your lives, you’ll let me be.” 

“What threat could you be to us, you fat pig!” one of them hollered back. 

The insult stung, of course. You’ve always been self-conscious about your weight, but you tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you. “I’m not going to warn you fellas again. Turn around and let me pass.” 

“We got four guns on you, you goddamn whale!” he yelled again. “You’d be smart to just give us what ya got, you’re much more likely to survive.” 

“Fine,” you sighed and put your arms up. The man came over to ruffle through your pockets. Just as he reached towards you, you grabbed him, wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed. You then planted his back to your front and pulled out your revolver. 

“Back off, assholes!” you scream at the other three who point their guns at you. The man in your grasp claws at your arm, trying to relieve the pressure around his neck. “Put your damn guns away and leave, otherwise your buddy’s gonna get a bullet in his brain!” 

The other three trade frightened glances. “Shit, she ain’t worth this,” one of them says. He holsters his gun and runs off, followed by the other two. The man in your arm is gurgling, his face turning purple. When his friends are out of sight, you release him and shove him down into the dirt. 

“I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to slit your throat!” you growl at him as he gasps for breath. You mount up and ride off, not looking back. 

The attempted robbery hadn’t shaken you up, and you’re not quite sure why the man’s comments about your weight bothered you so much. You went to Valentine afterwards to get a drink to simmer down, but when you were in the saloon, you felt like everyone was staring at you, judging your weight. You got a single shot of whiskey and then went back to camp. 

You’re at the cliff overlooking the river below, wanting to be alone. Of course, you know the others in camp don’t judge you for your weight. They’ve got bigger problems to worry about and it’s not like you don’t do your share of work. You always have. In fact, you’ve tried to lose weight. You certainly live an active enough life to lose it, but you just can’t seem to get rid of it. 

As you stand here, you don’t notice Arthur coming up from behind. He’s been your best friend for many years and the only reason he hadn’t been on the ride with you this morning was because he was hunting some bison with Charles. He’s one of the few people you trust with your deepest secrets as you’re secretly in love with him. You’ve been in love with him for a long time but have refused to let him know in order to protect your friendship. 

“There she is,” he says in his way of greeting you. 

You turn and smile at him. “Hi, Arthur. How was your hunt?” 

Arthur tells you about the poached bison and how he and Charles found the hunters. Charles killed one of them but Arthur let the other one go to spread the word that to poach bison and frame their work on the natives would result in their deaths. 

“Well, I’m glad you let him off easy,” you say with a soft smile. 

“It weren’t an easy decision. Charles wanted me to kill him and I kinda wanted to. I might be a bad man but at least I ain’t takin’ money to frame the Indians.” 

You smile again and then look back out to the river. You’re still not really in the mood to be around people, not even Arthur. He shuffles his feet for a moment. 

“You doin’ a’right? Ya seem a little down.” 

“I’m fine, Arthur. Don’t worry about me.” 

He sighs. “Ya know ya can tell me anythin’, right?” 

You look up at him. You feel silly for how you’re feeling about the whole thing. Why the hell should you care what some asshole who tried to rob you? 

“It’s nothing. Just somethin’ stupid.” 

He tilts his head a little. “Stupid or not, will you tell me?” 

You sigh and nod. Maybe it will be nice to have someone else’s input. You tell him about the attempted robbery and the rude things the man said. You also tell him how you sent the men running off with their tails between their legs. 

“I don’t know why it’s bothering me,” you say, not omitting the things the guy said. “It shouldn’t, he was obviously trying to scare me.” 

He sighs. “He was, and sounds like you certainly gave him the scare of his life. I imagine he won’t be keen to try robbin’ anyone anytime soon.” 

You smile a bit but you still feel down. “I don’t know why I care so much, Arthur,” you finally admit. “I mean, I know I never been pretty or even decent enough looking for people to want me around. I… I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” 

Arthur looks at you, his eyes soft. “I think you’re pretty,” he says. 

Your stomach clenches tightly. “Arthur, you don’t have to lie.” 

“I ain’t lyin’. Can… can I touch ya, darlin’?” 

He’s called you “darlin’” on a few occasions, mostly during tender moments like this when you’ve needed a boost. It always gives you butterflies when he does. Not only that, he’s never asked to touch you before. You’re not the most touchy person, in fact you’re more averted to it. However, you know he’s touch-starved but is good at hiding it. 

“Why do you want to touch me, Arthur?” you ask softly, not able to look at him. 

“Because it sounds like ya need it. Here.” He holds out his arms and approaches you slowly. You let him come close and then go into his arms; he folds them around you. It’s a bit awkward at first as you’re not used to being held, but after a moment you start to relax. You press your face into his chest and his left hand starts rubbing your back while his right holds your head to him. He’s warm and he smells good, smells like home. You hear his heart pounding in your ear. 

“Yeah, you’re okay, sweetheart,” he says softly in your ear. 

You look up at him and he smiles at you and then places the softest kiss on our head, making your chest swell. 

“Arthur?” you say so softly you almost don’t hear yourself. 

He smiles and leans down, pressing his lips to yours. After a few seconds, he leans back. “Sorry, darlin’. I… I been wantin’ to do that for years.” 

“Really? Arthur, I’ve… I’ve had a crush on you for years!” 

He chuckles. “Me too.” He leans down and kisses you again. 

“About time you both finally admitted how you feel about each other!” Sean laughs, coming over to you both. You and Arthur break apart, your faces red. Sean stands between the two of you and drapes an arm over your shoulders. 

“I cannot tell ya, if I had to hear ol’ Morgan say how much he wanted ya t’know how he felt, I was gonna shoot meself!” Sean says with a laugh. 

“Maybe ya should go ahead and do that anyways, save us all the trouble!” Arthur growls. 

Sean laughs, joining the onlooking crowd. You put your hand over your eyes, but you’re laughing too. You take Arthur’s hand and pull him down close. 

“What say you we go somewhere else and try that kiss again?” you ask. 

He squeezes your hand and then leads you off. You giggle again as he takes you, looking forward to kissing him. You don’t even care that you might get carried away and end up having sex with him. You certainly won’t end up regretting it. In fact, that’s exactly what happens. 

However a month after you and Arthur finally got together, you make a life-changing discovery. It terrifies and excites you. That night, you pull Arthur into the tent you now share with him, telling him you have important news. He looks worried as he comes into the tent. 

“What is it? Is somethin’ wrong?” 

“No, at least I don’t think so.” You wring your hands for a moment, terrified of telling him. Finally, you swallow hard. “Arthur, I’m pregnant.”

[spidercakes]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Peter is underage, mentions of abusive relationships.

*

Its not like class is boring, its not exactly, its just that Peter keeps sending him pictures and Tony has a small attention span, okay? He can be the bigger man and admit that he’s got less of an attention span than a very stupid goat and he doesn’t even like pastel pink but he very much likes the idea of Peter using those pretty pink cuffs on him. Rhodey, maybe because he senses Tony’s distraction, looks over at his phone and squints, giving Tony a funny look. Tony shrugs because he’s not about to be repentant about the stuff he’s into. Rhodey rolls his eyes at him and that’s rude, hurtful even.

He’s quickly distracted by another picture and where is all of this coming from? Okay, so like, Tony isn’t complaining exactly but also he wouldn’t have taken Peter for they type to want to gag people. He didn't take himself for someone who wanted to be gagged. Not that he’s complaining. Rhodey looks over again and this time he gets an even more what the fuck look and Tony rolls his eyes. “You don’t have a right to say shit after Camilla!” Tony hisses and Rhodey sinks in his seat.

“It was one time,” he mumbles.

“Bullshit, we both know that’s not true so get that look off your face,” Tony tells him.

Carol half turns in her seat, “tell me what weird shit Rhodey was into that’s less weird than the weird shit you’re into,” she says. “Vanko makes me want to die.”

Vanko makes everyone want to die but Tony doesn’t says that. “Tell me what’s more normal, cuffs and gags or pretending to be dead turning sex,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

The look on Carol’s face is so worth outting Rhodey like that and he doesn’t even care that Rhodey kicks him under their shared table. “Bro what the fuck? Are you a Brooklyn Nine Nine skit? Obviously Tony is more normal than you, you fucking freak,” she tells him.

“It was one time and and Tony is the one being tied up,” he says like that matters.

Carol squints, “the fuck is the implication here? That omegas tying up alphas is somehow less normal than fake corpse fucking? Because its so not and also what’s the problem if Tony’s into it?” she asks.

Rhodey rolls his eyes, “you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbles and Carol snorts.

“Yeah, I don’t get weird macho alpha attitude. I don’t see why you guys need to think you should be like that and-” her words are cut off by Vanko.

“Something to share with the class, Danvers?” he asks and Carol, because she has just as little shame as Tony, whips around.

“Votes, what’s weirder- an omega tying an alpha up or pretending to be dead durning sex?” she asks and the class collectively makes a disgusted noise. “There you have it Rhodes, you’re wrong according to everyone in this room.”

“Bro what the fuck?” someone says from the front of the room and Tony has never talked to him before but he looks damn confused.

“It was one time!” Rhodey says, “don’t act like y’all have never done it.”

Everyone, but especially Vanko, looks confused. “That is perhaps the boldest claim I have every had anyone make in this classroom and I once had a student tell me the earth was flat. What, pray tell, led to this being brought up in theoretical physics?”

“Oh, this class makes me want to kill myself so I was sexting my boyfriend,” Tony says, absolutely shameless. Carol lets out a sharp snort and starts laughing and Tony grins while the rest of the class dissolves into giggles too, though slightly uncomfortable.

*

Tony knows he’s not really any good at this and he’s like ninety percent sure May hates him. Not that he hasn’t given her good reason to, but still. So he takes a deep breath and knocks on her door hoping she doesn’t immediately kick him out or something. When she answers the door she mostly looks annoyed and confused, which is better than outright pissed so he figures he’ll take it. “Peter isn’t home,” she says like he wouldn’t know that.

“Yeah, he’s at school um. I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he says awkwardly. God, he hates this. He should have just bypassed this stupid step and went straight to Peter because he’s the one who’s opinion matters anyway.

May squints at him like maybe she thinks he’s stupid or something and he will give her that, he’s not smart for a genius. Not when it comes to people anyway, or at least not this kind of thing. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?” she asks, clearly baffled.

He doesn’t know if he should be offended or not or... well, he doesn’t know what the hell to expect. “Uh... Peter,” he says slowly, which mostly results in an even more confused look.

“I’m sure Peter is fine,” she says and she’d know, Tony supposes, she lives with him.

“Not what I- you know what, I’m just going to get to the point. I um. Want to court him, formally,” he says. When she looks confused he wonders if maybe this is another one of those rich people holding onto old traditions for way too long as some sort of stupid status symbol type thing like omega balls but May decides to clear things up before he has to ask.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” she says and oh, great, he already figured she didn’t approve. “And you look... relieved?” she asks more than states, clearly confused.

“I’m pretty used to people not liking me much, can’t say I blame you in this case uh- Point is I actually really like Peter. And I mean normally I think asking for permission to date someone is antiquated at best and insulting at worst given that you know, this is Peter’s choice, not either of ours and asking your permission like that matters more than his is bananas offensive on account of it kind of strips him of his ability to speak for himself but uh. The point, yeah, is that you’re the only one he’s got left. His parents are dead, his uncle is dead, and yeah, normally I’d bypass the whole asking permission thing because its kind of bullshit but in Peter’s case I know how much it would mean to him, if you actually gave me permission. You know, on account of everyone else is dead.”

Its not until he gets all that out that he realizes it kind of sounds like a dick move to rub all May’s dead relatives in her face so he’s a little confused when she looks surprised. “That’s... surprisingly well thought out,” she says.

Tony shrugs, “I mean, sure. Just seemed like something Peter would appreciate.”

May considers him for a moment, clearly unsure what to make of this before she crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s Peter’s favorite color?” she asks and that has to be some kind of joke.

“Is... is that a real question?” he asks, confused.

“Well apparently Quentin didn’t know what his favorite color was, so yes,” she says.

Tony blinks rapidly, confused. “He didn’t guess that they guy who wears a freakish amount of baby pink, with his room painted baby pink, who actively goes out of his way to buy things that are baby pink’s favorite color is baby pink? What a fucking dildo,” he says, absolutely baffled at how a person couldn’t know that. Even Rhodey could have passed that test and he’s met Peter like seven times.

“You don’t happen to know more about their relationship, do you?” May asks and no, not exactly but that doesn’t mean Tony knows nothing either.

“I don’t think so but let me tell you Peter has asked permission to do some strange shit. Like I don’t give a damn what he posts to his social media accounts, that’s his business. And I don’t care what he does with his friends, and why the fuck would he need my permission to do that anyway? Every time he says or does something weird like that I’m just a little bit more glad I broke that asshole’s nose. Even if it was an accident,” he says.

May frowns, “how do you do that by accident?” she asks and Tony sighs.

“Spend enough time with me and you’ll learn to do all sorts of things by accident that wouldn’t normally seem like things you can do by accident,” he says. “But I maintain that he had it coming.”

*

When Peter gets home he’s ready to have a five day nap but the moment he sees May and Tony sitting at their small kitchen table he goes into panic mode instead. “Hey Tony, what are you doing here?” he asks nervously, eyeing May and she doesn’t look impressed. Oh god he can only imagine what kind of information Tony let loose out of nervousness. He’s a nervous babbler and Peter doesn’t want May to know anything. Or more accurately more than she already knows.

Tony turns around looking just as irritated as May and that doesn’t say anything good. “We’re bonding over how much we hate your ex,” he says and Peter relaxes.

“Oh thank god, yeah, Quent sucks,” he says, deciding to use his newfound energy to get a drink. He’d been worried there, for a moment but with the knowledge that they’re not annoyed with each other Peter figures he’s fine.

“You’re okay, right, Peter?” May asks as he rummages around in the fridge. That... hurts to hear so he takes a few moments before locating a Redbull and pulling it from its hiding spot behind an old can of peas.

“I’m fine, May,” he says honestly. “I got tired of his garbage eventually.” Well, more like Tony in comparison was like a billion times better and he wasn’t even trying. Still, point still stands, he learned that Quent was maybe totally shit for him and he should move on. Its not like he was much better, mostly they just brought out the worst in each other.

“Not tired enough, I know he still texts you all the time,” Tony says.

So he does, but he’s been learning to keep his distance. Peter wonders if maybe its a calm before the storm type thing but he hopes not. he hopes Quent gets over himself and moves on and leaves him alone. He’s happy with Tony despite everyone’s worries and they’ve been together for awhile. He thinks they’ll do okay.

“He’ll get bored eventually,” Peter says and he can see that both May and Tony have their doubts, they actively exchange a look about it and that floors Peter honestly, but neither of them say anything. Peter maintains that Quent will eventually get bored, its just that he’s like a dog with a bone until he knows for sure he’s not getting his way. Maybe it should have sunk in by now but Peter knows it will, eventually.

Tony and May turn back to each other and May gives him a small nod that leaves Tony looking weirdly excited. Peter is going to need at least one more Redbull to deal with this cryptic shit.

*

Peter kind of wants to know who freaks out the most, Ned or Liz. MJ will keep her cool because she’s not a crazy person but Liz and Ned are dramatic and romantic at heart so he’s curious as to who will do what. The few people that see him walk in give him a double take but he ignores that as he makes his way to his and Ned’s locker. Ned should probably already be there, more than likely having hitched a ride with Liz, so he figures he’ll get his answer soon enough.

He’s surprised to see MJ there also given that she usually takes the bus and the bus takes eight hundred years to get to school but maybe Liz picked her up too. When they look over he’s excited, almost as excited as he was when Tony gave him the collar to begin with. He’s managed to keep this a secret all weekend so he could get a proper reaction out of them today, unaffected by previous knowledge and bad phone pictures.

Ned and Liz look shocked and he’s sure either one of them would have said something but MJ shoves them both out of the way to walk over to him first. Liz ends up in the middle of the hallway and Ned ends up halfway in their locker as MJ tilts his head to the side. “Okay, eat the rich and all that but that’s a fucking nice collar,” she says. “When the hell did you get that?”

“Friday,” he says excitedly.

MJ, Ned, and Liz all make an offended noise. “And you just said something?” Ned asks, betrayal face on.

“I wanted you guys to have a better view than a cell phone camera picture,” he says. “He asked May if he could give me the collar,” he adds.

MJ wrinkles her nose and he figured she’d do that. “Kinda gross,” she says and Peter sighs.

“He didn’t ask like that. He said he thought I might like if my only living relative actually approved of my relationship. Otherwise he said he thought asking for someone else’s permission for a decision that’s mine is an asshole thing to do because it says he cares more about their opinion on my relationship than my opinion on my relationship.” And Peter thought that was sweet, and he’d had a nice conversation with May afterward. He knows she’s worried about him still but she shouldn’t be because Tony is really sweet and supportive. And he lets Peter experiment with things that interest him not that he’s about to tell May about his interest in bondage, that’d be like... way too much information.

“Alright, back in my good graces but he’s on thin fucking ice,” she says. “And he has good taste,” she adds, nodding at the thin rose gold metal collar around his neck. Peter loves it, loves that it matches most of what he owns for outfits too and he knows Tony did that purposefully. Especially since if Tony had his way he’d wear a hell of a lot more red. Peter doesn’t see his obsession with the color but Tony doesn’t get his thing with pink either so they’re even.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he gave you a collar until today,” Ned says. “We’ve been bamboozled,” he adds dramatically. Liz nods along in agreement and MJ rolls her eyes.

“Dramatic sea goblins,” she accuses.

*

Peter doesn’t really mean for Tony to find the cuffs, he knows the picture he took of them was nice enough to pass for a stock photo so its not like Tony knew he had them but he finds them nonetheless. Peter’s about to tell him they don’t really mean much, he got them forever ago and Quent threw a fit about it and that led to their first breakup though he came crawling back the next day after one of his teammates decided to hit on Peter but still.

Tony doesn’t throw a fit though, or break up with him. Instead he looks at them kind of like he’s located the holy grail and that’s... well, Peter has wanted to use them on someone since he got them not that he had a willing partner until recently. “So you’re like... actually okay with those?” he asks and Tony frowns at him.

“At what point did I indicate I wasn’t?” he asks and Peter pauses for a moment, biting his lip. Tony rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to know what Quentin did about it,” he mumbles, accurately guessing the problem here. Peter has found that a good number of his problems boil down to Quent.

“I mean, text messages are one thing, real life is another,” he points out. Obviously the distinction doesn’t matter to Tony with the way he’s eyeing the cuffs in his hands.

He considers them for a moment before turning to Peter. “We’re all going on a vacation of sorts to Malibu and you’re done school by the time we’re leaving. Want to come?” he asks.

That’s... a change in subject. “If May lets me, sure. Who counts as ‘we’?” he asks.

“Carol, Maria, Rhodey, and me. And you too, if you can. And bring the cuffs. And that ball gag, if you’ve got that lingering around somewhere too,” he says, looking around like Peter keeps that kind of thing lingering around for May to find.

He smiles a little, reaching under his bed and pulling out a box. He hands it to Tony, who takes that as an opportunity to snoop through it, finding that ball gag fast. He finds the rest of the set too and his reaction is pretty much the same as when he found the cuffs. Peter feels a little flush of excitement at the possibility that Tony might actually let him try some of this stuff out and he’s got like a million ideas and he really, really wants to put them to the test.

Tony sets the box aside and all but drags Peter into his lap, “please tell me you have more of that stuff,” he says.

Peter wrinkles his nose a little, “I don’t, it took me forever to get all that as it was.” That stuff isn’t cheap and Peter did his research, he got nice stuff not that it amounted to anything. He’s not entirely sure why he got more stuff after Quent lost it about cuffs of all things. He thinks the flogger is more worthy of freaking out over, not that its that bad, but no. Cuffs.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to all but shove a card into his hand, “buy whatever you want,” he tells him and Peter raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” he asks and Tony nods. Wow, okay. “Do I um. Have a budget?”

Tony squints for a moment, like the idea is foreign to him and Peter figures maybe it is. He looked up the price of his collar and almost had a heart attack at the ripe old age of seventeen. Well, almost eighteen but still. “Uh. I don’t know, what’s a small number to poor people? Like five thousand dollars?” he says and Peter can’t help the wheeze he lets out.

“What the fuck? How is that a small number?” he asks, mind absolutely boggled.

“That’s not a very large number, Peter,” Tony says and Peter snorts.

“Oh, as I poor person I know that’s not a lot of money, that’s like... half of what most poor people make in a year,” he says and at least Tony looks baffled now.

“How does anyone live off that?” he asks and Peter rolls his eyes.

“They don’t, babe. Hence being poor. Five thousand dollars, that’s the lowest number you could pull out of your ass?” he asks, shaking his head.

Tony looks like he’s trying to figure out poor people bills for a half a moment before he shakes his head and leaves it be. “Whatever, doesn’t matter at the moment. Spend whatever you want. Replenish that lingerie stock I’m sad I never got to see,” he says.

Peter snorts, “you would want me to do that,” he says.

Tony shrugs, unrepentant. “I mean, yeah. I got like, a small taste before May decided to ruin my fun before I even got to really experience it,” he says, pouting.

Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, sure. I’ll get whatever I want,” he says like he won’t feel guilty immediately after buying anything.

[meganshinsou-tm]

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter five: murderers are getting prettier every day

❧ genre:  tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima 

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: blood, violence, torture, screaming/yelling

❧ chapter song: Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day by Marilyn Manson

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Oh, so you're also art dealers?"

Shouto nodded, "Yes. Mostly me and Izuku here handle the big deals and trades, we've pretty much covered every inch of Japan now. Even a few states in America. It was my father's business before it was passed onto me. I've gathered this crew of artists throughout my years and asked each and every one of them to be a part of it with me. All of us have some sort of connection with each other, be it art or our upbringing."

You pursed your lips and nodded. It made sense you guessed, why not open a tattoo shop on the side to always have a steady flow of business. Your brow quirked when you realized that this also meant that all these men had to be filthy rich. Art dealers and the market for such items was a very lavish and expensive market, most pieces just started out at the millions. It being a shared business among them all, there was no doubt they each got some sort of commission, especially since Bakugou, Sero and Kirishima ran this tattoo shop while Shouto and Deku were on business trips.

"So, you're all kind of like this big art mafia huh?"

Izuku choked on his tea, causing you to whip your head in his direction and immediately locate some napkins from one of the counters before going back to sit by his side. You gently wiped his lips dry as you softly pat his back.

"Sorry, that was just uh – funny," Izuku replied with a cough.

You smirked and ruffled his green hair after handing over the napkins and crossed your leg to look at Shouto. He rose a brow towards you and walked from his spot on the wall and towards the rolling stool that sat by his tattoo chair. His foot kicked it your way and he followed it, you watched the angelic man lower and sit on the black cushion before you. Once Shouto's heterochromatic eyes looked up to meet yours, you felt your heart stop briefly from how powerful they were but you still managed a soft smile.

"I like to refer to us as a 'family'. We all watch after and take care of each other, everyone has their place and their role in this shop, even you."

You placed your hand to your chest, motioning to yourself and chuckled. 

"Me? I've only been here a month Shouto, I just run errands, clean, make appointments and bring some femininity to the place. I don't place works of art onto people's skin, adorn them with pretty metal and crystals, or have the balls to deal with the likes of the art trading market. I'm just – (Y/N)."

Deku chuckled next to you and grabbed your hand from your chest, holding it on his knee and squeezing it. You had literally just met the man maybe twenty minutes ago and you were showing affection like you've known each other for years. 

This shop was so strange to you sometimes, these beautifully tattooed men all just connected with you almost instantly and you with them. It felt like somehow you had some connection already to this shop but you didn't know how. 

A smile crossed your face as Deku brushed your skin with his thumb.

"Kacchan insisted that you work here (Y/N), Kacchan! He's not the easiest person to win over, at all."

A laugh left your lips and you clicked your tongue, "I think you mean that red-headed asshole down the hall isn't the easiest to win over. Kacchan was nothing."

Shouto and Deku looked at each other, both slightly confused. The Kirishima they knew wasn't what you'd call an 'asshole', he was rough sometimes but never did he meet a stranger that he couldn't befriend. From the looks of it earlier, Kiri actually seemed quiet taken with you as you healed him, only confusing Shouto even further. 

Maybe there is something Bakugou didn't mention that caused you to form such an opinion? 

The two-toned man brushed it out of his mind for now though, who liked each other or not wasn't the topic he was on.

"What Izuku means is that Bakugou doesn't just let people in within a flash, especially when it comes to this shop. When I'm away, you can say that Bakugou is in charge around here. He takes pride in this shop, in his friends. To tell you the truth, when Kirishima first brought up the idea of hiring someone for this position you have, Bakugou was the one 100% against it. He doesn't like just random people coming into our shop and becoming this very important part of it. So when he practically threatened to 'blow my fucking face off into oblivion and beyond' over you, a random girl, I found it odd."

(E/c) eyes blinked at Shouto, you were sort of dumbfounded right now and confused. Bakugou was shoving this job down your throat the moment he saw you, he went as far as to send two of his very own men to beg that you come back. If he was against it in the first place, why did he suddenly go all out for it when he met you?

"We like to say that Kacchan has like a sixth sense or a third eye," Deku finally spoke and broke your sea of thoughts. "He can sense these strange things, like when something good or bad is about to happen, or if someone he meets is of value or not, if that makes sense. Bottom line is, he saw something in you, something that told him that not only the shop needed you but we needed you."

You smirked and pinched Deku's freckled cheek as he took it upon himself to try and help you see things clearly. You sort of got it, but it still boggled your mind as to why? 

"Maybe it's my quirk, he did say that it would be perfect for this place," you thought while biting at your lip. 

You turned your head to look at Shouto when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, he looked at you with a subtle smile.

"You're a lot more than you think (Y/N). You help this shop run, you also help heal people, I've heard and I saw it with my own eyes. You are special and you are part of this 'art mafia', family, whatever you want to call it. That means every single one of us are watching out for you and have your back, so if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask or to talk with one of us."

Sighing, you looked from Shouto and back to Deku who gave you the cutest smile. You placed a hand on his cheek and pinched before letting him go. Looking to Shouto you smiled and placed your hand over his on your shoulder, squeezing it and nodding.

"Thank you Shouto and Deku. That really means a lot."

You and Shouto removed your hands and you sat there, a relieved breath leaving you as you looked around the studio. 

"So, do either of you tattoo?"

"Oh – Shouto here tattoos, I actually just help with the finances and stuff, all the paper work and numbers. I used to do your job when we were in town."

"I'm guessing you're a hard artist to get an appointment with then," you asked looking at Shouto.

He smiled and rose from his stool and walked over to the desk in the corner going to answer a text he received on his phone that sat on it, "Sometimes. I also just have my certain loyal customers and don't take many new ones. Why are you inquiring?"

Your shoulders shrugged and you hummed, you kind of were, maybe not right now but eventually you wanted to have something done by everyone in the shop, even by Bakugou. You wanted something to keep forever that reminded you of this wonderful little shop and these amazing men, life was very uncertain for you right now. You didn't exactly know whether you were staying or going.

"One day I'd love to! Actually, do either of you have your own tattoos? I haven't seen anything yet, but – you're also covered in clothes."

Deku chuckled and removed the hoodie he wore, revealing a loose over-sized grey shirt that hung from his body. On his forearm you immediately spotted a tattoo, it was of a green oni mask with a samurai helmet and swords crisscrossing behind it. You smiled at the color and looked to see that Deku's arms and hands were littered with scars. How you didn't see the ones on his hands before blew your mind, maybe because now you saw so many.

"Oh my god, Deku, what happened to you," you blurted out and grabbed his tattooed arm, fingers running over his scars gently.

The male had to take a second from the sudden contact of your skin to his so intimately. His free hand came up to tousle his hair and he forced down the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

"Oh uh – that's just from growing up and getting used to my quirk, among other things. I pushed myself and my limits too hard sometimes."

You pouted and counted scar after scar, you could tell he was only telling a fraction of the truth, some of the scars looked fresh probably by a few weeks. If he didn't want to delve into it though you didn't want to push it. 

He asked if you wanted to see his other tattoos and you nodded with a smile before letting go of his arm. Seconds later your eyes widened when his hands gathered the fabric of his loose shirt and started to pull it up his body. You really did try to look everywhere except his body but it was so difficult.

A sheepish chuckle came out of you as you brushed back a lock of hair, "I uh – don't have any cash on me right now Deku or else I'd make it rain. Like how are you so built?"

The male laughed as his shirt was removed from his body and bunched up on his forearms. Even if you called Deku a 'small' green bean, he was in actuality much bigger than you, in height and bulk. He was very muscular but a lean muscular, very attractive and handsome. Honestly you just wanted to stare all day and possibly touch him. Even more scars littered his chest, one very large scar started at his shoulder and went down to his elbow. 

Deku turned around and you gasped when he gave you his back. A beautiful and extremely detailed samurai warrior with sword in hand was inked into his skin, a Japanese temple was in the background and there was lots of shading to bring a dark and dreary tone to the piece. It looked as if someone took a poster and just plastered it on Deku's sculpted back, it was that perfect.

"I still think that's some of my best work," Shouto finally spoke for the first time during all of this.

Jaw dropping and looking back and forth from the tattoo to Shouto you pointed at the ink, "You did this? Are you serious?"

The man in question nodded and smirked, standing from the desk and ducking his cell into his pocket, Shouto walked over next to you and looked. 

"It definitely wasn't a one day thing, this piece took a few months to finish, you know to let everything breathe and heal properly and also between our business ventures."

Deku gasped when your cold fingers ran all over his back, tracing out the imagery and leaning close to really take it all in. His heart started to pound as you curiously felt on his skin, fingers feather-light. You 'oh'd' and 'ah'd' as Shouto explained the shading and lines and what spots were a bitch to do.

"Wow, it's really stunning Shouto, great job! Do you all just tattoo each other?"

Both men nodded and Deku put his shirt back on and turned around to face you and Shouto. 

"Shouto did the back piece, Kirishima did my forearm and Kirishima did Shouto's pieces."

Before you could even ask what Shouto had as his tattoo's or even become lucky enough to have him strip before you, the door to his studio slammed open and there stood Bakugou. His eyes scanned the room looking for something, stopping when they found you. For some reason you froze before smirking at him, gaining a cocky smile in return.

"I hope you aren't trading me in for these fucking extra's already princess, I haven't even had my fun with you yet," he commented while brushing past Deku and towards you.

Your hand flattened on the blonde's chest stopping him before you, his face still leaned close and you could smell his intoxicating sweet scent as you locked eyes with each other. 

"I haven't traded any one in for anything because I don't belong to any of you. And if you or anyone wants to 'have fun with me' then all you have to do is let me know a time and a place ... Kacchan!"

The growing smile on Bakugou's face quickly turned sour. 

"The fuck did you just call me," he asked with a husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled and walked your fingers up the blonde's chest and neck to his face as you repeated yourself and spaced out your syllables. 

"I. Said. Kacchan."

Deku let out a squeak making the blonde turn his face and glare thus giving you a window to hurry and escape your death with a scream. Your feet bolted for the door and around the corner to run down the hall, you heard small popping noises and a "die" following fast after you. Tears streamed from your face from how hard you laughed, looking back you stuck out your tongue and flipped Bakugou two middle fingers, only making him accelerate faster. When you turned your head back forward you gasped upon seeing Denki in the way and tried to stop but collided into him with a hard thud. He grunted but stood his ground and quirked a brow.

"Don't you fucking let her go Pikachu, keep her right there!"

Your eyes widened looking back at Bakugou and you tried to run but Denki grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, pulling your back into his chest, doing as Bakugou instructed.

"Denki you fucking traitor, I thought you loved me!"

A laugh came from the golden-haired man, "I do love you lil'mama, but I kind of love living more."

Whining, your eyes squeezed shut as Bakugou zeroed in on you, his boots literally squeaking as he came to a stop before you. He leaned forward real close to where his lips touched the shell of your ear, you physically shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath and let out a curse that made him chuckle.

"Got the balls to repeat that princess?"

You smirked and chuckled yourself before making a bold move and licking up the blondes cheek, "Did I fucking stutter, Kacchan?"

Behind you Denki was shaking with laughter, "Ooh!"

"Kaminari, hold her still," were the last words you heard before strong and merciless fingers were at your sides and under your arms violently tickling you.

Denki kept a strong grip on your arms and placed the front of his feet over yours to keep you from kicking. Cries and sheer laughter erupted from within you, Bakugou mentioned that all you had to do was beg and ask nicely for him to stop and he would. You were too prideful though and refused to bow down to him.

"Never you fucking pomeranian!

The torture ensued tenfold. Your abdomen contracted as you tried to hunch over and hide your body but neither of the boys let up.

"The longer you drag this out the longer you go without food!"

Your lips pouted between laughing and you tried to bat your lashes, "Katsu that's not fair, I'm starving and this moron almost killed me today!"

Bakugou smiled at the little nickname you spoke for him, it had his blood pumping even more and he wanted to hear it again. 

"Fine then, don't beg or ask nicely. Just same my name like that one more time and I'll stop."

Trying to catch your breath between squeals and giggles you smirked at the blonde before you and rolled your eyes. 

"Fine. Please Katsu," you whined with pouty lips.

The blonde stopped and snapped his fingers, making Denki release you. Off balance you almost fell to the floor but Bakugou helped and caught you, his massive hands grabbing the side of your shoulders and bringing you close to his chest, your hands balled up against your own and you smiled and panted looking at him. 

"What, does that float your boat?"

"That wasn't even my name but I’m turned on," Denki interrupted.

You snorted and Bakugou couldn't help to crack his own laugh at the idiot you each called your friend. Before Bakugou could even get a word out or try to snap back at you a voice caught your ear.

"What the hell is going on?"

You looked to see Kirishima walking into the kitchen from the hall and suddenly felt like you were caught doing something wrong. Bakugou smirked and quickly grabbed your hips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder, earning a yelp as you squirmed. His hand landed a firm smack on your ass for the second time that day. You growled and punched his own ass but failed from the lack of force behind your swing.

"We were just rounding everyone up to eat," Bakugou replied with a shit eating grin and turned to walk you into the front lobby area.

You were now facing Kiri as the blonde carried you away, a smile crossed your face and you waved at the red-head. Unlike earlier, he didn't smile back, only looked severely agitated and rolled his eyes. Your head hung low at this and you just went along with the ride.

After eating lunch together in the front of the shop, Kirishima's tattoo appointment arrived causing him to leave the small talk that was going on. Shouto's phone rang and he excused himself to his studio to take it, leaving you, Bakugou, Deku and Denki alone. You sat between Deku and Bakugou on the nice black couch crisscrossed, one knee bouncing and hitting Deku’s. You talked about random things to pass the time until one idea came into your head.

"Hey, Bakugou," you called out turning to the blonde next to you.

He quirked a brow while drinking from his water bottle and wiped his mouth when he was done. "Drop that shit."

"Hah?"

"The fucking name, just use my given one, it's shorter for you to say."

A smile crossed your face and you leaned over placing your head on Bakugou's arm. "Aww, okay Katsuki! Anyway, would you ever pierce me?"

"With fucking pleasure!"

Sitting back up straight you turned more to fully face him, "What would you suggest? I don't really want a cliché belly button piercing."

Bakugou turned his head to look at you, he focused mainly on your face. His hand came up and grabbed your chin, the pad of his thumb ran across your bottom lip and he smiled. 

"You have these really fucking nice lips, I wouldn't want to ruin them with any snake bites or some shit but a little Monroe right here," he poked at the skin on your upper lip, "would really bring more focus to them."

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your face side to side gently, "If you wanted another, I'd say a simple nose ring. Your face is too pretty to fuck up with anything more than that."

You smiled and grabbed Bakugou's wrist, brushing his skin with your thumb, "Aww Katsu, are you just trying to get into my pants?"

The blonde smirked and brushed your own skin, "Obviously – but I'm also not a liar, I wouldn't say mushy shit like that if I didn't mean it, so be grateful!"

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek and sat back again. The thought of either piercing intrigued you. The more time you spent at the shop the more you wanted another tattoo or piercing. You felt naked when all the guys were around you, covered heavily in ink of their own and you were just - plain.

As you thought more, Shouto happened to walk back in and he rubbed the side of his neck when everyone but you looked at him. He subtly brushed the tip of his nose with his thumb, causing the three men before him to look at each other. You finally looked around and to Shouto and smiled. Bakugou sighed and stood from the couch, stretching and cracking the bones in his neck. Deku stood up next and you looked between them both.

"What's up guys?"

A hand gripped your knee and you looked to see Bakugou leaning down and close with a smile. 

"We have to go handle some business really quick, I'll pierce you next time princess."

You couldn't even get a word out before Bakugou placed a quick peck to your cheek and walked away. A weird feeling came over you and you grabbed Deku's hand when he went to follow, he grunted as you stopped him and turned around.

"Uh – be careful okay? It's getting late and the weather gets worse, so drive safely."

The green-haired man smiled before leaning over and placing a kiss to your head, "We'll be fine (Y/N), no worries!"

It had been a good two hours since Shouto, Deku and Bakugou left. The shop was slow and quiet with only one artist in who was currently finishing up the client he had. To curb your boredom, you and Denki decided to watch some anime at the counter together. You learned that most of the boys for the majority were nerds just like you, especially Denki. The golden-haired man was definitely one of your closest friends now and the two of you literally did everything together.

"I'll go beyond the limit break! The universe is mine to take! I have no fear, AH! I think it's clear, AH! Let's take it up into high gear! Oh this is Dragon Ball Super, we got the skills to blow them all away," you and Denki screamed singed on your stools, punching the air and each other.

Around that time Kirishima's client had walked out and to the counter to pay for their tattoo, catching all your hype. Of course neither you nor Denki were ashamed and you proceeded to take the gentlemen's payment . After he was taken care of and left, you followed behind to close and lock the door and flip the open sign over to signal the shop was now closed. Your feet skipped back behind the counter to watch the show with Denki, a few minutes later Kirishima appeared running a hand through his red thick spiky locks.

"What the fuck are you two screaming about up here?"

"Just some Dragon Ball, wanna watch Kiri," you questioned with a smile.

He quirked a brow and shook his head. 

An excited knock on the door broke all of your attention, making you jump as you looked up to see Sero outside with a massive smile. You immediately yelled out his name with excitement and left your stool to go let him in. Red eyes watching in envy at your adoration for the black-haired man. 

When Sero entered you hugged each other close and kissed cheeks. With an arm draped over your shoulder the two of you walked back to the counter and you helped to brush off a few snow flakes from his coat.

"How has your day off been Sero," you asked with a smile.

"It was boring to say the least, got a few errands done and just chilled. How was your day beautiful?"

At that moment you and Denki zeroed in on each other, eyes squinting and jaws clenching. Your fingers flew up to point at each other and in unison you both replied. 

"He/She set the kitchen on fire!"

Thus ensued the fight between the two of you as he tried to pin the whole situation on you. Sero knew better though, he even mentioned how Denki was technically banned from using the toaster anyway because of his dangerous ways of cooking. This only infuriated you more and caused you to shake his shoulders and make him have whiplash all over again. 

Sero laughed his ass off as he watched and Kirishima also chuckled. It humored him to see you all worked up, eyes wild and nonsense spewing from your lips. He pictured you as a little puppy trying to show how big and bad they were, it was quite adorable.

Finally, Sero stepped in and pried away your hands that were now on Denki's throat. 

"Alright, alright, so I take it today has been a day huh? I heard that Shouto and Deku are back, you met them?"

"Tch, did she ever, she was practically suffocating poor Izuku with her tits," Denki replied.

You went to kick at him but he dodged and stuck a pierced tongue out at you, Sero contained you, holding your back to his chest in a hug.

"You're just jealous Denki because now that little green bean is going to get all my attention."

"You're damn right I'm jealous! Until he showed up back, I was the shop heart throb!"

Kirishima and Sero snorted with laughter and Sero placed his hands on your shoulders, one going to ruffle your hair, "I'm sorry bro, but I think she stole that title from you."

You smiled with pride and thanked Sero for the compliment.

Suddenly Denki fell to his knees and crawled until he was hugging yours and fake crying. 

"I defended your honor though, don't let some freckles and green hair make you forget about your first true love! I can share you!"

You rolled your eyes and ran a hand through the golden hair, gripping and pulling the groveling man's head back. "I could never forget you Denki, trust me!"

"So does that mean I get to suffocate in your perfect boobs too?"

Before you could even reply both Sero and Kirishima took it upon themselves to smack the shit out of Denki. 

"You're fucking gross sometimes man," Kirishima growled.

You couldn't help but chuckle as the two men gave Denki what he deserved, you honestly weren't really offended, it's just how Denki was but it was nice to have Kirishima stand up for you for once. 

Holding up your hands you called off your two guard dogs and helped Denki back up to his feet. He pouted and laid his head on your shoulder, making you awe and hug him.

"I'm sorry cutie, that was shitty of me to say."

A sweet giggle rung in his ear and you patted his back. "It's okay Denki, I could never stay mad at you. You do know you're pretty much friend-zoned though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I still want love too; these assholes aren't nice to me like you."

Sero and Kirishima groaned and threw their hands up while Denki started to gripe and whine, telling his sob story of being the shop bitch. You laughed and continued to coddle the man in your arms, listening to his fake cries while he hugged you back.

"You guys should be ashamed of yourself tearing down this man's pride and dignity, look at him, how could you be so mean to such a cute face," you cooed and took Denki's face in your hands squishing his cheeks.

"Tch, what little pride and dignity he had to start off with," Kirishima chuckled with Sero.

As the two continued to tease their friend, you continued to comfort him, trying to hide your own giggles. Denki was smiling and eating it up though, giving his two younger peers a middle finger. Finally all of you calmed down and you got around to asking why Sero even showed up so late.

"Well I was coming to pick up this fool, I also wanted to see if everyone wanted to come and hangout at our place tonight. We can get some pizza and drinks. Since you started working here, we haven't all really hung out much outside of work you know."

You smiled and nodded with excitement, "Oh that sounds fun, I'd love to!"

Sero grinned and nudged Kirishima, "You in too?"

The red-head rubbed the side of his neck and thought it over, his eyes met yours and he froze from you staring at him as if silently pleading that he agreed. He was groaning on the inside but he sighed and nodded.

"Sure, I gotta get my shit cleaned up first though, so one of you come help please," he requested, turning to walk back down the hall.

"I'll go help him," you chimed.

Denki and Sero nodded, "Okay then, I think we're gonna leave and go get the food and drinks. You can catch a ride to our place with him, if he tries to say anything about it just tell him to suck it up and call me if he really wants to be an ass about it."

After gifting each other kisses on the cheek and hugs, Denki and Sero left the shop and you locked the door behind them. Turning around and leaning against it you took a deep breath before walking off towards the hall and to Kirishima's studio. When you entered he was tossing out his used ink cups and looked up at you before looking away. You swallowed thickly and went to help him out by grabbing the disinfectant spray and spraying down his tattoo chair.

"Uh – the guys left to get a few things and said I could just catch a ride with you, you know since I decided to walk today," you softly spoke and gritted your teeth, body tensing up and waiting on some type of cold and harsh reply.

"That's fine little one."

"So, art dealers, that's what you fucking told her?"

Shouto nodded at Bakugou's question, removing the charred sweater from his body and tossed it into the large drum that sat next to a table full of blades and saws, even an electric one.

"That's all I could tell her, she's only been here a month Bakugou, give it some time before we really reveal who we truly are. I know you see something in her, but I still need to evaluate her myself before we tell her anything."

Bakugou rolled his eyes and examined the tools of torture on the table before him. Sobs and screams of pure agony mixed with the heavy music playing in the background making him smirk. He turned to see Deku grinning as he slowly peeled off the fingernails of the man bolted to a chair. Blood staining his grey over-sized shirt, small splatters dusted across his freckled face while he screamed with the man manically. Once Deku tore off the last nail he tossed it into a pile of the others and stood back to enjoy his handy-work.

"No one is going to hear you way out here you fucking animal, keep screaming, I bet I can scream louder," Deku challenged.

The blonde appeared next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm guessing that lead you two followed didn't turn up shit huh?"

Deku shook his head and scratched his temple with the bloody pliers in his hands, leg swinging out to kick the chair, making the victim in it cry out more.

"No, it was a bust. We tracked down this petty little gang for nearly a month only to find out they just sell dope on the side. They weren't exactly killers so we just dropped it. Now we're back where we started, I feel like we're never going to find the bastard that killed Yagi."

"We'll find them, we just need a break for now and time to gather new intel," Shouto spoke and walked up with a butchering saw propped on his shoulder.

He stood there with his other hand on his hip, the broken and bleeding man before him took in the tattoos that covered his arms and chest. 

It was all brushwork, like Japanese calligraphy that danced from Shouto's elbows and up his arms to his shoulders and chest. But on each side the brushwork morphed into different colored oni mask's once you looked at his pectorals. An elegant yet still intimidating white mask was inked on his right one, what looked like crystals of ice dripped from it. On the right, a fierce red one engulfed in a beautiful flame stared back at him. 

All three men looked terrifying and were terrifying. The blonde looked smug in his black tank that dipped low in the front to reveal grenades and roses among explosions. The green-haired male at first looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly but so far, he was the most sadistic of the three.

"W-Who are you, what do you want with me!"

Bakugou clicked his tongue and tilted his head. 

"We're the fuckers that are going to end your miserable life, the same way you ended those two young ladies who were just walking home from dinner. My pal Deku here is going to peel off your toe-nails next, then we'll start disassembling you finger by finger, toe by toe, limb by limb until your shitty body fills up this bin over here and we dispose of you properly. Anymore questions?"

[benevolentcalamity]

Nobody  in your life had truly dared call you confrontational. Maybe even slightly passive, but you preferred to follow rules and not cause trouble, lest you and your folks give each other grief. So even in a setting full of people - and provided you’re not half-dead from just having toast and cold brew coffee before school -  you’re able to carry yourself more calmly and coolly. Quite frankly you’re much calmer than you expect under stress, to get it all straight.

Being someone who makes friends a bit more easily, you’re never without someone at your side, and as a result you’re quite popular in comparison to the unlucky girls in dramas. So, your school life isn’t at all terrible aside from the mundane lessons and the mostly colorless walls of the buildings.

Aoba Johsai high, known for not a clean building, not great lessons or a high rate of graduates, but of all things - the volleyball team. You’ve seen the boys themselves here and there, given they’re regular students, but you haven’t bothered talking to them.

Most popular among them is the setter: Tooru Oikawa. Known for his crazy jump serve on the court, known for being a practical womanizer in the school. There’s always what feels like a cloud of girls around him, fangirling over him while he tastes their sweets. It feels very pointless to you, him leading them on while not even seeming interested in a real relationship, but you hope he enjoys it while he can.

Yes, you have been a target of him for a time, but he surprisingly has it in him to back off when it’s clear you’re not interested. So he’s respectable in that right, but the flock of girls still bothers you.

But then, not your circus, not your monkeys.

... “[Name]!” You’re brought from your musings from your friend’s voice.

“Kuri, what’s up?” You ask, putting your pens and pencils in the case and putting it in your bag.

“There’s this dessert place that popped up just yesterday. S’got mochi - you wanna stop by?” Her grin, though crooked, is the most adorable thing.

With a nod, you smile, standing and putting the strap over your shoulder. “Sure.”

“Yay!”

As if on cue, the bell tolls, and the two of you head outside the classroom, when something catches your eye.

There’s some students gathering, muttering amongst themselves. Given fast colors past them, they’re either egging on some chaos or watching to see what happens. Not too inclined to let it be lest something terrible happens, you softly excuse yourself from Kuri’s side, pushing through the students and biting your lip with each gentle push.

“Excuse me, please.” You nudge past some third-years. “I have to get over there.”

The sight awaiting you is shaking.

There’s a first-year boy on the floor, for one thing, staring fearfully up at a figure in the standard volleyball uniform. He looks on the verge of wetting his pants, and his face is coated in sweat. Efforts of trying to get up only result in his legs and arms shaking.

Realizing the immediate danger, you’re quick to step forward. “H-hey, what’s going on here?”

The one wearing the volleyball uniform - a delinquent, surely, with his buzzed head and crazed eyes - half-turns his head toward you. “Buzz off.”

Meanwhile, the first-year stares fearfully at you, silently begging to be rescued but expecting you to abandon him.

Pursing your lips, you step forward again until you’re between them, facing the volleyball player and putting your hand up to create a sort of barrier.

“Hey, knock it off,” You practically command. “Don’t you know you can’t treat first years that way? Or anyone, for that matter.”

He just growls at you, snarling slightly in a clear attempt to intimidate you. Though your stomach churns at this tennis ball headed, rabid dog of a guy, you don’t back down.

“The hell is wrong with you?” You hiss. “You know better than that, right?”

He about looms over you now. “Go away.”

“You first,” You growl, then make a gesture behind your back, hearing the first-year gathering his bearings. “You wanna be angry, take it out on volleyballs, not other students.”

His eyebrow twitches, and you notice a student piping up.

“S-someone get a teacher-!” She squeaks. “He’s gonna kill her! He’ll take off her head-!”

The first-year eventually scuttles away, prompting him to attempt to shove past you. Quickly, you put up both hands, harshly shoving him and maneuvering so you’re blocking him again.

A cacophony of gasps, and the students back up, sensing an imminent brawl. You’re not afraid, even if being aware he’s bigger than you and realistically you won’t stand a chance. You’d be on the ground in seconds.

But still, you stick to your guns. “Leave. The guy. Alone,” you warn.

His lips curl into a full on snarl, and his almost hairless brows furrow together until what you’re looking at is a wild dog ready to eat you.

“Rrrrgh... Hmpf!” He stands correctly, unclenching his fists. “Little pig...”

“Mad Dog-chan!”

Both of your heads turn towards a familiar figure pushing through the crowd.

You blink. “Oikawa.”

The Grand King sighs, exasperated, scratching the back of his head. With an upward not at you in acknowledgement, he turns to... Mad Dog-chan?

“Come on, Mad Dog. Gone picking on pretty girls now?” He asks, then another figure - Iwaizumi - pushes past him, prompting Mad Dog to turn to him completely.

“Mad Dog, let’s go. Don’t screw up practice again this time,” He commands, then glancing at you. “Is he bothering you?”

“Ask the first years, Iwaizumi.” You know him, casually so. Not that you’re friends, but acquaintances. “I just made him stop.”

Now the exasperated one, he massages his temples. “Sorry ‘bout that. Now let’s go, Mad Dog.”

Mad Dog huffs, at first beginning to follow Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s retreating backs, but at the aisle of students, he stops, turning back to you. Raising his hand, he points at you, lips still curled.

“I’m not finished with you,” He warns, before he follows.

A silence in the air, the prying eyes of the students back on you, before suddenly you’re applauded.

“[Name]...” Kuri pushes through to you. “That was amazing...”

You swallow. “Who was that?”

She glances in the direction Mad Dog disappeared into. “That was Mad Dog... Kentaro Kyotani, actually. He hasn’t been on the team much - he’s really aggressive and uncooperative,” She explains, being knowledgeable enough about the subject. “I’m surprised he backed off you.”

“Yea, me too...” You shake your head. “Ramen and dessert? My treat.”

___

The next day is wrought with strange emotions, swinging like a pendulum between a sense of liberation and an odd, unexplainable anxiety that won’t go away no matter how much strawberry milk you gulp down.

However, the first-year you rescued, a skittish boy named Taka Josuke, thanked you just this morning, explaining what had happened. To make the long story short, he was trying out for the team, but made an enemy of Mad Dog upon criticizing his attitude toward the team and suggesting he, and you paraphrase, “not be such an asshole.”

Taka lacks a spine outside the gym, so it’s no surprise.

Since that incident, however, his name’s been dropped from the list - not because of him starting trouble with Mad Dog, but because he lacks the muscle and jumping power to play properly. After asking the coach about it (purely out of curiosity) he said they’d reconsider should he practice, practice, practice, and build up his mass. He also made a point to commend you, hearing from Iwaizumi how you’d stopped Mad Dog from going too far.

“You’d be a good team manager,” He mentioned. “Let me know if you’re interested - someone with spine like yours could be just what we need.”

It’s tempting, so you did say you’d think it over, and you still are.

“[Name], it’s still incredible how you managed to chase him off,” Kuri mentions, walking with you through the halls to have lunch outside. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

“I just did the right thing.” You tug your bento out of your bag. “Don’t get how a guy like him is even here if he acts like that.”

“They probably put him in volleyball for anger management,” She chuckles. “He needs a leash.”

“He is ‘Mad Dog’ after all, huh...” You trail off, noticing something odd.

Just when you do, a voice rings out, “[NAME] [LAST NAME]!”

There’s a chill through your body, gluing your feet to the floor as not only does Kuri back up, but literally all the students in front of you and down the hall do to make an aisle.

And at the end is him - Mad Dog, standing with that same stance as yesterday. Surely he and the other students are expecting you to put up your dukes. But, you won’t do such a thing. If he wants to get himself expelled for assaulting a student, so be it.

Your bravado all but cracks, however, as he advances, and it’s not until he’s right in front of you that you feel... minuscule.

Still, you clench your fists. “You wanna fight, I will.” You’re still aware of his muscles.

His hand shoots out, and you flinch as he yanks it towards him and up so your now clenched fingers aren’t too far from his face. Then his other hand comes up, prying your hand open and gripping it tight for a moment. An odd sensation, then it’s gone.

Almost seeming to sneer, he then turns away, leaving you be, confused face and hand up and all.

The other students stare, dumbfounded, as Mad Dog disappears again, eventually (reluctantly) continuing with their business, visibly relieved you haven’t gotten beaten up.

Biting your lip, you bring your hand back, staring at your palm, seeing a paper in it outlined by red sore marks.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

You’ve got guts.

“[Name]?” Kuri asks.

You swallow.

Mad Dog...

[jaxl-road]

Scar Tissue, chapter 8

One step forward...

Pairings: Slash/Duff, side Axl/Izzy, side Steven/Vince

Warnings: ((not in this chapter)) Implied/discussed past abuse (non-explicit)

~~~~~~~~

The next three weeks were… interesting.

Don’t get him wrong, Slash was over the moon. He no longer had to restrain himself around Duff, was finally allowed to run his hands through his hair and hold him and kiss him and lace their fingers together anytime he was in arms reach. It had been years since his last serious relationship, but he knows it didn’t feel like this.

On top of that, Guns N’ Roses was making waves again. With each show they played the crowds seemed to get bigger and wilder, and they were starting to snag better dates and times at the bigger venues. They were starting to actually make a decent amount of money from their shows. At night, as he fell asleep with Duff in his arms, he felt like everything was falling into place.

But…

At the same time, Slash couldn’t help but feel a little lost. Because something didn’t feel right.

Duff seemed happy, smiling into their kisses and playing with Slash’s curls and bursting with energy on stage. But he was also drinking even more than usual- bottle always in reach, almost never anywhere near sober- and he still jolted awake from nightmares, and there always seemed to be an apology on his lips.

And then there was the other thing…

“You guys haven’t fucked yet??” Steven gaped, slamming his beer down loudly on the table.

Slash groaned, putting his head in his hands. He and Steven had the house to themselves that night, and had decided that they were overdue for a hangout. As they drank and smoked and laughed, sitting next to each other on their beat up couch, the conversation inevitably veered towards their love lives, the two friends rambling about their boys happily. That is, until Steven joked about his and Vince’s bedroom activities, and then asked about Duff and Slash with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Slash could only stutter out a “well, actually-”

Steven shook his head in disbelief, “How? It’s been weeks, and you’ve been wanting to climb that boy like a tree since day one.”

“I know, I know,” Slash sighed, “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Looking over at the drummer, Slash saw that his friend actually had a look of concern on his face, frowning thoughtfully. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steven was more than just the sunshine goofball he appeared. He and Slash had been best friends since their childhood, and if there was anyone Slash could talk to about this, it was him.

So, taking another swig of his beer, Slash started talking, “It’s like… most of the time, we’re fine, right? Like, other than getting kinda blushy, he doesn’t mind PDA or anything that much. But when we’re alone, he just… doesn’t seem that into it, I guess?” He sighed, “And that’s not even getting into the fact that he’s almost always wasted by the time I get him alone, and that just makes me feel… gross, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Steven nodded sympathetically.

“Uuuuuuugh,” Slash dropped his head onto the coffee table in front of them, “Maybe he doesn’t really like me. Or thinks I’m unattractive. Oh my God, Steven, Duff thinks I’m ugly-”

“Oh, shut up you idiot,” Steven rolled his eyes, even as he reached out to pat Slash on the back, “Maybe he’s a virgin or something,” he shrugged.

Slash sat up, frowning in consideration, “Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Yeah, just because we had a promiscuous youth doesn’t mean he did.”

“But he’s had a boyfriend before,” Slash pointed out.

“Yeah, but wasn’t he an asshole?” Steven argued, “Maybe they never got to that point. Duff definitely likes you a lot, but he’s also a nervous fucking dude, so, y’know,” he shrugged.

“That’s… actually a good point,” blinking in surprise, Slash leaned back as he thought more about it.

Meanwhile, Steven grinned, “See? You just needed some wisdom from your much smarter friend.”

“Oh fuck off,” Slash laughed. But he did feel better. After all, he didn’t mind taking things slow (what’s a few more weeks of long showers? He’d live), he had just been feeling insecure. With this new theory in mind, he felt like he could relax a little.

For that reason, he was in especially high spirits when he pulled Duff against his chest the next morning, “Hey, you have today off, right?” The bassist hummed and nodded, so Slash grinned, “Then we’re definitely due for a date. We need some time away from all the other couples,” he joked. Not that he didn’t love his friends, but Axl and Nikki especially always seemed to get a kick out of fucking with them. (Or rather, fucking with him.)

Duff grinned, “Sounds good to me,” he kissed Slash lazily, “What did you have in mind?”

Up until now, their dates were pretty standard- usually bar hopping, grabbing cheap food, seeing a movie or a show or something like that. “Not that I don’t love our usual outings,” Slash drawled, “but let’s do something different.”

“Like what?”

“Uuuuh,” Slash blinked at the ceiling, “I have no idea,” he smiled as Duff laughed. He tried to think of something, Duff burying his face in the crook of Slash’s neck, seemingly unconcerned with Slash’s dilemma. He poked at the blonde’s shoulder, “You have any ideas?”

The only response was silence, which Slash had learned meant that Duff definitely had an idea, he just didn’t want to say it. Sitting up swiftly, Duff rolled to the side with a soft “oof”, allowing Slash to look down at him with a grin.

“What do you want to do?”

Blushing, Duff scoffed, “I don’t know, whatever you want to-”

“No, no, no,” Slash interrupted, “You have an idea, I know it. Come on, pleeeease?” he whined.

Duff bit his lip lightly, hesitating for a minute before finally admitting, “It’s supposed to be nice today, and… I’ve always wanted to go up to the Hollywood sign,” he was quick to add on, “But seriously, it’s just a thought, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

While that was certainly not the suggestion Slash had expected, it only made him grin wider, “No way, let’s do it!” He hopped out of bed enthusiastically, “Y’know, I’ve lived in Hollywood most of my life and I’ve never been up there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess when you live in a place long enough you kind of forget to do the touristy stuff.”

Sitting up, Duff stared down at his lap, “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s probably stupid, I just-”

“No, no!” Slash cut in, “I meant that that’s why it’s a cool idea,” he clarified.

He hated that after all this time, Duff still looked surprised when Slash showed any sort of approval towards him. He hated it, and he didn’t understand it, and he didn’t know how to ask about it. As such, he was a little relieved when Duff quickly shook off the surprise and gave him a sly grin.

“Not to mention I doubt there will be anyone around to bust us if we have a couple open containers.”

“I like the way you think,” Slash laughed.

Before long, they were both pulling on some boots and shoving a variety of bottles and a few joints into a beat up backpack. It wasn’t exactly early by the time they left, nearing noon, but still early enough that the rest of their housemates were still confined to their own rooms, allowing them for a clean getaway.

Duff was right that it was a nice day outside. The sun was shining, but there was a cool autumn breeze, and the odd hour on a weekday meant the bus was practically empty when they hopped on. That didn’t stop them from sitting in the very back, stretching their legs out across multiple seats and talking shit about random people they would see on the sidewalk and occasionally sneaking sips from a bottle of whiskey.

Needless to say, the bus driver was happy to see them exit when they reached their stop. When they reached the start of the trail through Griffith Park, Duff turned to Slash with a grin.

“We should think of a drinking game.”

Slash snorted, “What, like, take a shot every time we see a lizard or some shit?”

“You would go straight for lizards,” Duff laughed, elbowing him playfully.

“Alright then,” Slash continued, “One shot every time we see a lizard, but THREE shots if I can catch one,” he grinned deviously.

Duff hummed in consideration, “...Fine. BUT, you can’t take it home with you,” he bargained, giggling when Slash whined.

“Where’s the fun in that? Tell me you wouldn’t kill to put a lizard in Axl and Izzy’s bed.”

“I think they would kill you.”

“Hm, it’d be worth it though.”

Starting their trek, they were happy to find that the off-season left the trail open and empty, and wasted no time in passing a joint back and forth as they expanded the rules of their drinking game. Pointing at random things mostly as an excuse to take a swig from the bottles held in their hands.

“Shot every time you see a broken bottle!”

“Shot every time a plane goes by!”

“Everytime you hear a crow!”

“Everytime you see a rock with graffiti!”

“Everytime-”

“LIZARD!”

Duff jumped at Slash’s exclamation, the guitarist leaping forward drunkenly and diving to the ground in a clumsy attempt to catch the small reptile that had crossed their path. The whiskey left him uncoordinated though, and he landed roughly on the ground, the lizard scurrying away into the brush.

Laughing heartily, Duff nearly dropped his vodka as he staggered forward, tugging at Slash’s arm to help him back to his feet, “I thought you were good with reptiles?” he teased.

“Yeah, well, it’s an inverse correlation to my sobriety,” he replied sheepishly, dusting off his clothes and picking up his whiskey bottle from the ground where it had fallen. Luckily only a little had spilled, the bottle being half empty anyway, so he wiped the dirt from the top and declared it good enough.

As they continued their journey, Slash reached out to lace their fingers together, swaying their arms between them as they continued up and up the hillside, Duff ducking his head with a shy smile. They took their time, the alcohol and weed keeping their pace leisurely as they laughed and giggled at practically everything, stumbling when they tried to walk as Slash pulled Duff closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nearly tangling their legs together mid step.

Before they knew it, they were standing at the end of the trail, looking down at the Hollywood sign and the expanse of the city below them.

“Wow…”

The view was gorgeous, but Slash only looked for a moment, too distracted by Duff’s wide eyes, awe and alcohol blending as he smiled excitedly down at the landscape. Tugging the bassist’s hand, they carefully made their way through the brush down the hill. Once they were in the shade of the ‘H’, they slid to sit on the ground, and Slash wasted no time pulling Duff into a kiss, feeling like he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of them today. Duff smiled against his mouth, leaning against the sign behind them as Slash pressed against him.

They lazily exchanged whiskey and vodka kisses, hidden in their own little world behind their city’s landmark. Eventually they broke away when Slash’s stomach growled loudly, Duff laughing as Slash ducked his head in embarrassment. Pulling a handful of granola bars from their backpack, they ate quietly, enjoying the companionable silence while Slash rested his head against Duff’s shoulder.

Eventually, they felt rested enough to start making their way back down, abandoning their games in favor of simply drinking and smoking leisurely while Slash rambled about all the parties he’d been to with his parents across the freeway on Mulholland Drive. By the time they were getting onto the bus again, the sun was beginning to set, and while they were both tired and half drunk-half high, they agreed that junk food was in order.

Hopping off at a stop near a diner they both liked, Slash grabbed Duff’s hand again, grinning happily as they chatted. The blonde was smiling easily, his body relaxed, and while he wasn’t sober, he wasn’t as wasted as he had been the past few weeks. Maybe Slash had been overthinking it, worrying about nothing. Duff seemed fine now. Maybe he had just been overreacting like Steven said.

But then, just feet away from the diner, someone approached the two musicians. And Duff sucked in a breath, freezing in place as a voice called out behind them.

“Michael?”

[ramblinganthropologist]

Aftershock

Summary: Joker finds it hard to adjust to a new Normandy, and it’s not just because of the leather seats. What the fuck do you even say to the guy you got killed because you wouldn’t abandon ship?

---

Alright. He had this.

Joker was doing his best not to fidget as he sat there, waiting. On the other side of the door, he could hear the conversation. His new boss was introducing the newest member of the team to what they had been working on while he was out. For most people, that was normal.

Problem was, his boss was the Illusive Man and the other guy in the room had died two years ago.

Honestly, he still couldn't believe it. Even when the man had come to him to swipe him from the Alliance, it sounded like a fantasy. After all, even the best scientists couldn't bring back the dead – fuck, they couldn't even fix his bones. The fact he was insisting that somehow he managed to...

It still hurt to think about. Joker had tried to avoid thinking about it over the last two years, but there was no denying the fact he had gotten the first human Spectre killed in his attempt to go down with the Normandy. It was impossible to – whenever he saw any of the old crew, it was there in their eyes.

Like he needed reminding.  Every time he closed his eyes he could still see the commander drifting further into space.  

Speaking of the commander... he could hear footsteps. Shepard had always been a light walker – he was pretty sure Chakwas had said he walked on his toes too damn much. Something about arthritis or something; maybe Cerberus reinforced his toe joints. That's what he would've done anyway if he was in charge of putting the man back together.

That, and maybe throwing a dick in. The commander deserved that much.

“The fuck is going on...”

A soft, Irish-accented voice sent a shiver up Joker's spine. It was a voice he would have never expected to hear again, at least not live. There were already a few Shepard VI's out there, but they never got the accent right. This one was right on the money.

He got to watch as the man of the hour entered the room, his back to him. Joker felt his heart stop, then restart at the sight of Shepard walking through the door like two years hadn't just passed.  He looked... whole. Alive. Not being sucked into the vacuum of space.

“Hey, Commander. Just like old times, huh?”

Joker's mouth worked before his brain did. It was a common affliction he was often used to dealing with. Honestly, he had wanted to at least, you know, apologize for getting the guy killed and all. That was going to have to wait for later, because the man of the hour turned to face him.

They'd fixed his eye.

“Joker?” Two blue eyes blinked – he probably wasn't used to seeing out of both. Couldn't exactly blame the guy if he was adjusting to double vision all over again. He looked weird without the scar cutting through the right side of his face.

Luckily, he had plenty of open wounds glowing bright fucking red to make up for it.

Joker's stomach flopped. Shepard's face had a long cut along his jaw and across his right eye. You could almost see under the skin, to the glowing implants that hadn't finished healing over just yet. Maybe a few more months under would have closed that up, but they hadn't had the time. Now they were just big gaping slices.

His weak knees shook, but he stayed firm as the commander walked through the door. At least he was still the same shrimpy height – came up to about his jaw in the heavy boots he wore. Joker braced for anything. Hell, he'd probably deserve getting biotic blasted into a wall at this point. Hopefully they had a medic on hand for all the bones he was about to break.

“Wasn't expecting to see you here.”

Shepard's eyes and voice were as calm as ever as they started walking, Joker just a half step behind. With the bigger guys – like their old XO – he'd be almost two. Shepard was slowing down for him probably, given they both dealt with the same issue of having to run after bigger people. He was a good guy that way.

“Look whose talking, I saw you get spaced.”

Open mouth, insert broken foot into shattered jaw. Joker regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. Immediately he braced for the biotics, or at least to be told to fuck off. Neither of those came. In the end, it wasn't this Shepard's style.

Instead, he offered an awkward grin that didn't quite reach his repaired eye. “Yeah... well, I got better. Mostly.”

His hand twitched towards the gaping open wound on his jaw, but stopped somewhere around his shoulder. Then it went back to his side, looping into the empty holster where a little red pistol should have been.

Last Joker had heard, his sister had that. It was one of the few things  they had found from the commander, and it had been in so many pieces it looked like somebody had smashed it with a hammer. Probably would've matched its owner now.

A lump formed in Joker's throat. “Look-”

“Hopefully the implants heal up. I really don't enjoy walking around like a living light display.” Another awkward grin. “Besides, I've been told red makes me look too ruddy. Think I could hack them to blue without breaking anything?”

Sometimes, it was hard to understand Shepard. Joker chalked it up to a biotic thing, or maybe it was brain damage from one of those N7 training missions. It was one of those moments where he just couldn't get what was going on under that mop of red hair.

He would've been mad. Shepard should have been ready to fucking kill him... he would've deserved it, after all.

“Just don't turn your pancreas off, it barely functions now.” He fell back on jokes as they started to walk towards the window. Their new ride was waiting for them – all it needed was a name. At least this helped him feel better, even as the guilt ate at his stomach.

“You think they would've replaced that.” Shepard shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, you're supposed to show me something? I hope it's a new hamster cage, I need something small and furry in my life again.”

Leave it to the commander to fall back on his husbandry. Still, it allowed Joker to grin a little as he approached the window. Below them, the SR-2 slowly cruised into view. Thanks to the angle, the pilot got a perfect view of his CO's face. Both of Shepard's eyes widened as he braced against the glass as if he was seeing his lover at the spaceport again.

“It's good to be home, huh commander?”

Even through everything, Joker had to smile as they started their descent towards the docking bay. In a matter of hours, they would be in the air again. It would be like it was before... or at least that's what he hoped for as he limped behind his commanding officer.

But... he still couldn't shake the feeling in his stomach.

---

“You seem upset, Mr. Moreau.”

Yeah, anyone would be with fucking EDI in the cockpit.

Joker shot a glare over his left shoulder as he leaned back in his seat. “I'm fine, EDI. Don't try to play any AI mind games on me.”

“That is not in my programming.” A likely story. It was built by the Illusive Man, therefore it got his asshole personality. “A data scan shows elevated heart rate and - “

He tuned the AI out as it rambled off his symptoms. Instead, he kept his eyes on the glass in front of him. Right then, they were in a holding pattern at a docking bay. The shore party had left about two hours ago, and the lack of echoing gunfire gave him the feeling things were going pretty well. Shepard could be the model of ammo conservation for how he tried to use his words over a pistol. It would have been admirable, but it stopped being so when people tried to shoot him anyway.

Still, he tried. A for effort.

“- decreased serotonin. Your focus is off.”

EDI's voice drew him back to reality. He glanced over at the blue orb to his left. It was flashing, probably waiting for his input. So Joker turned his chair around so he could ignore the damn thing and its blue light. Let it wait, it wasn't its business anyway.

“The shore party is returning from their mission and heading to decontamination.”

That made him sit up in his seat. He could see them now, off to the left and heading for the docking bay. Apart from some dirty armor, the trio looked pretty good. Even better, he was getting a call to Alliance command. Guess they had gotten the guys out after all.

“Leave it to Shepard to talk his way out of shit.” He turned in his chair, towards the Normandy's entrance. It would open with a slight hiss once decontamination was complete and everyone was safe. After that, Garrus would head to the battery to calibrate the stick up his ass, Mordin would go play god in a lab, and...

He frowned as he watched the door hiss. The three stepped into the small hallway, weapons holstered. Mordin was talking about three hundred miles a minute about something, with the other two party members giving their tech input. Leave it to a bunch of nerds to come up with something like that.

“Commander Shepard has returned to the ship. XO Shepard stands relieved.”

Joker watched as the only human in the party nodded towards EDI. He held his breath, watching as the man's eyes started to slide towards him. Just as they started, they stopped dead. Then his shoulders sagged under his black armor and he turned on his heel to walk to the nearest terminal to send off a message.

“Right... good talk.”

The words died under his breath as he turned in his chair back to facing out to space. Once Shepard gave the order, they'd be back in FTL drive to the next planet that needed his special touch. Another mission where he wouldn't look at him.

There were 7 of those now.

“Mr. Moreau, your-”

Man, he wished that damn thing had a mute button.

Joker shot the blue orb a dirty look as his fingers found the controls. Might as well be ready for when his commanding officer needed him to do his job or something. Better yet, it made it less likely for EDI to want to continue the conversation. He might not like the AI, but he was learning how to fuck with it.

“I'm fine, EDI.” Even he had to wince at his tone. With any luck, the AI wouldn't pick it up. Of course, its damn orb surface was flashing like a Mass Relay on red sand, so it was working through something big. Whatever it was, it could shove it up its nonexistent ass.

Where would that be on an AI anyway? In the central core? He'd go down there and shove it in himself if it kept him from having to hear it.

“Your stress levels suggest otherwise.” Something about that even, pleasant voice really pissed him off. Sadly, it wasn't work breaking another finger trying to find a mute button. All Joker could do was sit there and scowl at the damn thing. No matter what he did, EDI just kept flashing away with that metaphorical dose of red sand.

He was pretty sure the Illusive Man had set that port up in the cockpit just to fuck with him. What a nice guy.

“We've got the Collectors on our ass, anyone would be stressed.”

“Your stress spikes whenever Commander Shepard returns from a mission. Most evidence would suggest the opposite.”

Well, EDI could shove that up their nonexistent ass too. Hopefully it was big enough to fit all that. Maybe with a little pushing, he could make it work.

“The guy gives people ulcers, what can I say.” He shrugged, carefully, to avoid breaking something. “Never know when he's going to bring some new alien in as a friend.”

Speaking of – his com channel was blinking in the way it did when Shepard was trying to call him. This button he definitely risked breaking a finger on as he pounded it. Judging from the lack of static, he was out of uniform.

“Joker? We're going to need to head back to the Citadel. The council wants to see me.”

Normally, it was hard to tell how Shepard felt about things. As long as he had his meds, he was pretty calm and even tempered. Even off them, it wasn't that bad. This, though? Joker had to wince as the pure annoyance leaked through like never before. Hell, he sounded like he was gritting his teeth as he spoke. That... was new.

“The Citadel? That's a bit of a jump. They can't do it over a vid?”

He swore he heard Shepard growl, but that was just impossible – he was pretty sure the man's voice didn't get that low. “Believe me, I asked. I guess they want to bother me into my second grave.”

That made Joker's stomach drop even further as he primed the Normandy to go. The ship was humming to life around him, and he felt it through his chair as he went through the motions. Normally, this was one of the best parts of his day. When he was in space, with FTL drive in high speed, it felt like he was floating.

Now, though? He felt like a rock lodged in cement at the bottom of the Marianas Trench.

“We'll be there in about 12 hours.”

“Great. I'm going to...” Shepard paused, voice faltering. When he spoke again, it was calmer in the way he got when he was painfully aware of how in control he had to be. Joker hated that. “I'm going to get some work done. Thanks, Joker.”

The line cut after that, leaving the helmsman alone with his thoughts and a growing sense of anxiety deep in the pit of his stomach. Jumping to FTL drive didn't exactly make it easier. They said that feeling motion sick was just psychosomatic, but damn if his gut didn't roll through the first few pulses and waves as they hit the relay. Normally the blue light and tingle that rang through his aching bones did wonders for that, but now he just felt cold.

Cold and needing to be anywhere else but in that cockpit. Damn it all...

---

Everything hurt, and that was saying something.

Joker wasn't having the best day as he limped away from the cockpit. All he wanted right then was to go to bed and maybe try to shove something down his throat in the way of food. Of course, the doc would insist he take his meds before any of that. She got all frowny when he didn't, and there was the whole bone breaking thing he had to worry about, so thus the limping towards anywhere but a place to sleep.

Why did the medbay have to be so fucking far?

The ride down the elevator made his insides rattle, especially as it hit the floor and opened up. He was probably lucky he hadn't broken something as he made his way out. There was plenty of noise here, but none of it could really distract him as he limped away from the elevator towards the waiting medbay and his pills.

How big was it going to be today? Fuck...

Normally, when he got in this kind of mood Joker didn't notice much around him unless he was about to walk into it. There could have been naked dancing krogan as far as he was concerned, it just didn't register. Unless four testicles hit him in the face, he had tunnel vision. Yet, there they were metaphorically tea-bagging him.

What was Shepard doing in the observation area?

Joker cocked an eyebrow as he crept a little closer. No doubt about it, the person sitting there was Shepard – he was the only one with hair that red on the Normandy. He wasn't moving either, just... sitting there, facing the open window.

He should have just kept walking on to take his pills. After all, biotics were weird. Maybe it was some space meditation technique to keep their brains from frying over. Yet he kept walking towards his commanding officer in a perfect example of curiosity killing the cat.

Oof... even thinking that hurt.

“Commander?”

Shepard didn't respond as he entered the observation room. With his back to the door, he was just sitting there, staring out the window. Joker was practically on top of him, but he never broke his sight on what was in front of him.

“Hey, you ok there, Shepard?”

With his words, Joker broke a spell. Shepard snapped to life, and sweat trickled down his brow as he rounded on the man. His skin was practically white, and his eyes were as wide as softballs as his breathing began to slow. Before that, it was like he hadn't been breathing at all.

“Shepard are you-”

“Close the window.” He added a “please” at the last second as he shut his eyes tightly. The pilot didn't need to be told twice. In fact, he almost broke a fist hitting the button. The window shut closed on them both, and the room dimmed slightly before the lights had time to adjust.

Then it was just him and humanity's fist Spectre, sitting like two idiots in a dark room.

Joker felt the sweat trickle down his brow as he settled in. “Am I interrupting some biotic thing? You're not going to take a wall out, are you?”

Shepard let out an uneasy laugh as he ran a hand down his sweaty face. “No... just trying some self administered exposure therapy. I don't think it's working very well unfortunately.”

He opened his eyes – they were smaller now. “Don't you have a date with Dr. Chakwas in the medbay right about now?”

Yeah, but that was before the universe stopped moving.

Joker felt as though he had been hit by a bolt of lightning as he stared at his commanding officer, and then to the closed window. Details were streaming in at about a thousand kilometers a second, and he was about to hit the mass relay at “I'm a fucking moron” station. He tended to visit that one a lot – it was his favorite those days.

It was hard to make his mouth move, but Shepard was expecting something. “Well, had to make sure you were keeping on your weird biotic regimen.”

“Don't worry, I am.” Shepard smiled and his stomach flopped. The man stood, attempting to stretch casually. His form was far too stiff for that – it just came off looking painful. “Come on, I had to talk to her about something anyway. Might as well get it over with, right?”

He was doing it again – the biotic always cared way too damn much about other people. He looked like he was about to keel over, but Shepard was trying to put him at ease. It made Joker's stomach flop uncomfortably as he stood as well, bones creaking at the effort. Nothing but his heart was breaking right then.

Damn it all...

“Commander... I'm sorry.”

Shepard smiled at him again as he waved it off. “Nothing to apologize for, like I said I have to stop by there. She wanted to take a look at my implants and make sure I hadn't tried to hack them yet. You make a joke once about trying to match your aesthetic...”

He chuckled to himself as the door opened on them both. The pilot wanted to say more, but he realized as they made it through the mess that there was no point. He might have blamed himself – and plenty of others did too – but Shepard never would.

God, he wish he would...

All he could do was stare at the man's back as he threaded his way towards the medbay. Whatever else he wanted to say died in his throat as he watched a risen Spectre act as though this was Tuesday for him. Hell, he was fucking glowing thanks to those implants!

Glowing because of him...

“Joker, you ok back there?”

The man stopped – blue eyes were focused on him. Words were born and died in the space between the two, in what felt like a lifetime to the pilot. In the end, he swallowed them down. None of them would do him any good anyway.

“Just keeping up. Got a little stiff making sure we don't crash into shit.”

Shepard smiled and nodded. His footsteps slowed ever so slightly – how could a man's pace make him feel worse? “Yeah, that whole not crashing into shit thing is pretty important. Planets get mad when we make our own docking bay.”

They both laughed over that, but it was anyone's guess if that was genuine. After all, they were headed to the medbay with a mountain of weight between them. The best Joker could do was have his commander's back, like he should have that day.

Maybe it would've been easier if Shepard hated him... then again, he was pretty good at doing that himself those days.

Fuck....

[the-real-anywolf]

Destiel Advent Calendar 2019

Title: So, This is Christmas

Tags: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Original Characters, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Season/Series 15, This Fic Ain’t What You Think It’s Gonna Be, Angst, A Little Too Real, and Not a Smut in Sight, happy holidays, i guess,

Summary: Dean, and the angel Castiel, spend Christmas Eve serving food at a local soup kitchen.

Written by: @queerwolfsstuff​​ (queerwerewolf)

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21641707

Notes: I bet y'all were expecting a lovey, mushy, schmoopy floofy, fluff fest for this Destiel advent calendar? What have we been telling you guys all along?

Day 2 - So, This is Christmas

Things weren’t great. Were they better? Sure, but they weren’t great. Sam had convinced Cas to move back to the bunker. There was planning to do, and the odds of survival were higher together. Cas hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to Dean since he got back, and they were usually, “I’m running errands.”

Dean had gotten into a habit he couldn’t break, demanding where Cas was going, to be met with those clipped words before Cas stormed out. Dean never expected Cas to come back, and every time the angel did… He hated how conflicted he was about it.

The anger was easier, it was easier than addressing any of the other emotions the angel caused. And while it was easier, it was also forcing them into this stalemate, neither one moving forward to finish the game.

These so-called errands happened a couple times a week. Dean knew there were no errands. Cas was up to something, and whether good or bad, Dean didn’t know. But when  Dean didn’t know, shit usually went sideways. So he brought his concerns up to Sam, and got bitched out and told to drop it in return. So sneaking around was out of the question.

Instead, Dean decided to try something a little different… directness.

It was Christmas Eve, and Cas was purposely looking straight ahead as he walked through the library, passing Dean, who had his legs kicked up on a table, spinning a beer in his palm. “Where are you going?” It was almost robotic now.

Without missing a beat, Cas said, “Running errands.”

Dean swung his legs down, followed by the sound of the metal chair legs colliding with the concrete. “Bullshit.”

Cas spun around, brow quirked as he regarded Dean for the first time in over a week. “Excuse me?”

Dean moved to stand up, crossing his arms over his chest as he approached. “I said, ‘bullshit.’ Bullshit you’re running errands. What possible errands could you be running on Christmas Eve?”

That was met with an eye roll before Cas turned his back to Dean. Cas silently made his way to the stairwell, so Dean grabbed his jacket and followed him.

Cas sighed as he grabbed the railing. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, I need to run errands too. Figured I could tag along.”

Cas was halfway up the stairs and huffed out a soft, “No.”

Dean caught up to him and gripped his forearm. “Why not?”

“Because,” he started as he whipped around to face Dean, twisting his arm out of Dean’s grasp. “I am not actually ‘running errands,’” he said, complete with air quotes.

He knew it! Now Dean needed to figure out what Cas was up to. “Then what are you doing?”

Cas regarded Dean for a moment, face expressionless as he appeared to evaluate the situation. “Does it mean that much to you to know where I’ve been going?”

Far from backing down now, Dean straightened his posture and said, “Yes.”

Cas shrugged and turned back around before ascending the stairs. When he reached the landing, he looked down at Dean expectantly. “Are you coming?”

…. :::: :::: ….

The ride over, in Cas’s newly acquired VW bus, was painfully silent. Dean realized early on they were headed into town, but refrained from asking. He kept sliding his thumb over the handle of his Sig.

When they pulled up to a building near the church, Dean furrowed his brow. The lights were bright on the mostly dark, closed down street. Large windows with fake snow painted along the edges gave a view of dozens of people, more people than he thought this town had, standing in line in, what looked like, a makeshift cafeteria.

Cas slamming the door shut shook Dean out of his bemused haze as he unbuckled the lap belt and slipped out of the hippie van. Before Dean could say anything, a young woman with curly black hair and a bright smile approached Cas and pulled him in for a hug.

“Clarence! We could really use your help tonight.”

Cas laughed, a genuine and appreciative sound Dean hadn’t heard in way too damn long. “Kristianna, is everything alright?”

She shook her head. “Two of the volunteers ended up sick with the flu, so we had to send them home.”

That was met with a serious nod as he pointed to Dean. “I brought my friend. We can put him on dishes and pull Erica to the serving line.”

Kristianna appeared relieved as she nodded. “Awesome. Can you show him around real quick, I’ll go grab him an apron and gloves from storage.”

Cas flashed her an affirmative smile and nodded for Dean to follow him inside. As Cas played tour guide, it finally clicked where they were. Shit. Dean didn’t realize just how many homeless people lived in this little county.

When they reached the back kitchen, Kristianna was waiting for them, holding out an apron for Dean. “It’s pretty simple,” she said as she began to go over each step of the process. Load the rack. Rinse the big gunk off. Place in the industrial washer. Rinse and repeat.

Dean was listening, but he found himself a little mesmerized by Cas. He was chatting with another volunteer, a taller woman with long red hair pulled back in a ponytail. She laughed at whatever Cas said while he pulled off his trenchcoat and started rolling up his shirt sleeves.

When he looked up again, their eyes met. Cas flashed him a small smile before he turned and left the back kitchen. Kristianna handed Dean the hose and patted his shoulder before departing with an encouraging smile. Dean let out a soft, mirthless laugh and shook his head.

The guilt wasn’t an instant avalanche, it was more of a slow methodical build up as he spent his time alone washing and drying dozens and dozens of dishes. The work kept him focused, while he berated himself for… hell… everything. Berating and admitting that maybe… maybe Dean clung to the anger because Cas still hadn’t acknowledged what Dean prayed to him.

The anger was because he was hurt. Was because he told Cas what he felt… how he felt, how Cas had changed everything for Dean and he didn’t know how to cope with that change. How to process an emotion he’d buried for many years. And then Cas came back, and didn’t say a damn thing. The longer he ignored Dean, the worse it got.

Dean scoffed as he pulled the clean rack of dishes out. Maybe he was pissed over something that never happened. Maybe Cas never got the prayer. Maybe Dean had been treating his best friend like crap for too damn long.

Because that best friend was apparently the kind of guy that, while there was a pissed off fanboy playing puppeteer with them, still gave his time to people in need. To people who were impacted by the cruelty of this world long before Chuck threw in zombies, and ghosts, and all the other cliche crap.

Cas spent his free time here, making a positive difference in his own little corner of the world, and Dean had never felt like a bigger asshole in his life.

…. :::: :::: ….

Kristianna let out a huff of laughter as she locked up the door, yanking on the chain. “I’m so glad we were able to give people seconds and left overs.”

Cas hummed in agreement. “I appreciate the generosity of this time of year. We haven’t run out of food all month.”

As the murmurings of agreement turned into hugs and departures with a, “Merry Christmas,” and, “Happy Holidays,” on everyone’s lips, Cas faced Dean and gave him a small smile.

“Thank you for your help tonight.”

Dean shook his head in amazement. “Why didn’t you just tell me this was what you were doing?”

Cas let out a soft sigh and shook his head as he started walking to his car. “Can we call a truce, just for tonight?”

Dean gently halted him with a grasp on his wrist. “Did you hear me?”

Cas furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”

Did you hear me when I prayed to you?

The flash of understanding was answer enough. Cas turned from Dean and let out a soft sigh. “A truce, please,” Cas urged as he made no attempt to get away.

And despite the urge to demand answers, Dean released his grip on Cas’s wrist. With a soft sigh, Dean took a step back. “Okay. Truce.”

Cas looked up, expression clearly surprised that Dean agreed. He caught the small twitch of Cas’s lips before his expression was serious again. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean nodded and followed him back to the stoner van. As Cas pulled out his keys, they locked eyes through the windows of each side. Dean exhaled his breath to fog up his window and used his finger to write,

“saC, samtsirhC yrreM”

That got him a broad smile and audible laugh before Cas exhaled on his window and wrote,

“It’s backwards”

When they met again on the inside, Dean clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder and said, “Merry Christmas, Cas.”

Cas looked down at the placement of Dean’s hand for a moment before he braced his own over Dean’s. With a gentle squeeze, Cas returned a soft, “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

war is over if you want it, war is over

[keanubot]

I Love You Like The Sun Came Out (Keanu Reeves/Reader) Chapter 4

o hello there. new chapter? new chapter.

warnings for this chapter: none

Carrying out your housekeeping duties at Keanu’s house certainly becomes much easier once you’ve settled in. You love being able to just wake up, walk down a hallway, and open the doors to the koi pond without even having to get dressed. It’s so quiet and peaceful in the house, cozy despite being so large, and you somehow feel as if you’re truly meant to be there.

Being a full-on guest in the house means you finally feel comfortable in all the rooms – except for his bedroom, which you’ve still only been in once – and it’s nice to be able to go anywhere you please. You don’t feel like you have to immediately leave the library after watering the bonsai tree – you can stay and settle on the couch with a good book. Same with the music room, you literally spent your entire Saturday going through his record collection and listening to every genre under the sun until suddenly it was 6pm and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything all day (and had barely gotten halfway through the collection).

Admittedly you’ve taken the Audi out for a few spins around the block, and of course on some Starbucks runs, but other than that it hasn’t gotten as much action as Keanu probably hoped it would. Growing up in New York City probably should have prepared you for LA drivers and traffic, but you never really drove when you lived there; you mainly took the subway to get everywhere you needed to go. So driving has never really been your thing, but you’re still incredibly grateful for Keanu’s thoughtfulness.

And the very best part of living in Keanu’s house?

Not having to talk to your roommates.

This is especially good for when you’re rehearsing, which has become quite often – there’s something about being in an actor’s house that really just brings the acting chops out of you, which you’re not complaining about. There’s a big mirror near the entrance of Keanu’s house, surrounded by bright green plants in the sitting area, and you’ve taken to standing in front of it to go over your lines.

Jay, the gardener, stops by at the beginning of your second week living in the house, and unfortunately happens to pass by the front window when you’re standing there talking to the mirror. You don’t see him until you notice some movement in the corner of your eye, and when you turn you see that he’s standing there with a giant pair of lawn cutters in his hand – grinning at you. He waves as soon as you make eye contact.

God, please don’t come in.

He comes in.

“So, how’s everything going?” he asks, resting the lawn cutters against the front door, “Bored to death yet?”

“Bored?”

He laughs, “Cooped up in this house all by yourself? It has to get a little boring.”

You shake your head, “No, I love it, actually. I like being alone.” You assert the last word but he doesn’t seem to notice, just nodding and smiling.

“Wish I was like that,” he says with another laugh, “I can’t go very long without talking to someone.”

Doesn’t surprise me. “Yeah, I don’t really mind it.” The conversation has only just started but you’re already trying to end it.

“What were you doing in the mirror, then?” he asks, pointing at it, “Could have sworn you were talking to yourself.”

You feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment – and a little bit of frustration, “Oh, no, I was rehearsing.”

“Rehearsing?”

“I’m an actress.”

His eyes widen, “An actress? What are you doing cleaning houses?”

You have absolutely no idea if Jay realizes how tactless he is but at this point you don’t really care; this is only the second time you’ve talked to him and he’s already annoying the hell out of you. Usually you’re pretty good at deflecting guys, but since you both work here you can’t really tell him to go away.

Instead, you count to three in your mind and calmly reply, “It’s a tough business. Gotta make money somehow, right?” you nod to his lawn cutters, “Housekeeping, gardening, whatever gets you there.”

He looks at the lawn cutters and then back to you, his face falling slightly, “I worded that completely wrong, didn’t I?”

Your lips tighten, “Little bit.”

He’s about to start apologizing – you can tell – but his phone suddenly goes off. He gives you an apologetic smile and brings it to his ear, “Hello? Oh hey, Candice, what’s up?”

Keanu’s assistant. You stand there awkwardly while he talks to her, his replies mostly consisting of “yeah”, “of course”, and “you got it”. That is until –

“She’s actually standing right in front of me,” he winks at you, “Hell of a girl.”

Hell of a girl? He barely even knows you and he’s already giving an opinion to Candice – it makes you uncomfortable. You wonder if Keanu knows how flirty this guy is – although probably not, seeing as Jay is probably the straightest dude you’ve ever encountered.

“Yeah, I’ll let her know,” he says, then hangs up, “Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, I know it’s a tough business. I actually used to do commercials but I stopped because, well, commercials.”

Well that puts a bit of a crack into your ego, your forgiving smile faltering slightly. “Commercials?” you say with a false laugh, “Wow, yeah, uh, been there.”

“A nightmare,” he says, shaking his head, “I remember I did this one for Pepto Bismol and I never lived it down, it followed me everywhere for like six years. Pretty much the reason I quit.”

You nod slowly, pretending to empathize when in reality you’re having a bit of an internal breakdown, “Mm hm,” you nod, “A nightmare.”

After a few more apologies from Jay you manage to get him out the door and back to work. You sit on the couch in the living room for what feels like no time at all, just staring into space and calculating your life choices up until this point with Jay’s words echoing in your mind. Before you know it, an hour has passed and Jay is long gone.

It’s only then that you realize Jay had said “Yeah, I’ll let her know” to Candice, and that he hadn’t actually told you what she’d said.

Oh well, you shrug, if it’s important she’ll tell me herself.

-----

The next morning you drive to your audition in the Audi, feeling a little self conscious but also hoping someone might see you driving it and decide to take you more seriously. You know it’s superficial but that’s Hollywood for you.

There’s a bunch of the same people you see all the time sitting in the chairs outside the audition room, some of which you’ve actually gone out for drinks with before. You’d actually met your roommates in this fashion, but all three of them feel they’re better than commercials at this point. You wish you could relate.

“Y/N!” a girl named Aubrey who you’ve talked to a few times before waves you over, motioning for you to sit beside her. You sit down and she smiles at you excitedly, “Karen from casting said you’re doing the whole housekeeping thing too! Who do you have?”

You swallow, noticing that every girl in the room seems to suddenly be paying attention to you, “Um, I’d rather not say.”

Aubrey nods, looking empathetic, “An asshole, huh? That’s too bad. Hopefully you get something good soon and you won’t have to do it anymore.”

You’re a little curious as to who Aubrey works for but not enough to ask. Instead, you take out your script and start silently mouthing the words to yourself just as the audition room door opens and the first girl gets called.

After about ten minutes of rehearsing, your phone rings. You pull it out of your bag to see who’s calling and your eyes widen when you see Keanu’s name lit up on the screen. You quickly turn it off and shove it back in your purse, hoping no one saw.

“Keanu?” Aubrey says, excited all over again, “Oh my god, are you working for Keanu Reeves?”

All the heads turn toward you again, and you feel yourself turn bright red.

“Uh, yeah,” you say awkwardly, smoothing out the script in your lap, “But it’s really not a big deal.”

“How is that not a big deal?! It’s Keanu Reeves! He’s like, the nicest guy in Hollywood!”

You wish she’d stop saying his name like that. You wish everyone would stop saying his name like that. The more people talk about him the way they do, the more and more nervous you get to actually meet him in person, and you hate that.

“I haven’t even met him yet,” you reply, shaking your head, “He’s shooting a movie, I don’t even know him.”

“He knows you enough to call you,” Aubrey says, not deterred at all, “You have him as Keanu in your phone, that’s so cute.”

Your eyebrows scrunch, “That’s his name?”

“Yeah but just the first name, no last name. Very casual,” she winks, “So what did –”

She’s unable to finish her question because the audition room door opens and one of the girls comes out, looking quite happy with whatever performance she gave. The woman holding the door looks down at a piece of paper and says your name.

“I’ll see you later, Aubrey.” You’ve never been so relieved to be called into an audition in your life.

-----

The audition doesn’t go well. The conversation with Aubrey gave you a nervous energy that you couldn’t shake, and the first thing said to you when you entered the room was, “Hey, you’re the girl from the Tampax commercial aren’t you?” which just made it worse because all you could think about was Jay and his Pepto Bismol nightmare.

You’d left the room without even looking at Aubrey, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you as you exited the building and climbed into the expensive car that you certainly didn’t feel very worthy of driving.

As soon as you get back to Keanu’s house you settle in front of the koi pond with some lunch and try not to feel sorry for yourself. Instead, you watch Cosmo fight over his food with a white and orange fish that seems to be bigger than the rest.

“Calm down, Godzilla, there’s more than enough for everyone.” you grab some more fish treats and toss them into the water to make them disperse.

Great, now three of them have names. You worry for a moment if Keanu will be bothered by that, but who are you kidding? According to literally everyone Keanu is the nicest guy in Hollywood; you can’t imagine he’d care that you liked his fish enough to give them names.

You’re suddenly reminded of the phone call at the audition, and you take out your phone to call him back. After a few rings with no answer, his voice is suddenly in your ear – you’re unsure why the sound of it makes you so nervous.

“Hey, it’s Keanu. Leave a message.”

“Hi, Keanu, it’s Y/N. I’m just returning your call, sorry I missed it,” you bite your lip, wondering if you should share where you were – I mean, he did say he wanted to know about it, “I was, uh, at that audition we were talking about last week. Didn’t go that great but whatever,” you cringe, “I mean, obviously it’s not whatever, I just mean… you know, it’s out of my hands, I guess.” Stop talking. “Anyway, I’ll be home for the rest of the day so – I mean, I’ll be at your house for the rest of the day,” STOP TALKING. “So just call me back when you get a chance. Okay, bye.” Idiot.

You shake your head at yourself and tear off a piece of lettuce from your sandwich, tossing it into the water and watching Godzilla gobble it up.

-----

You spend your evening lying on the floor of Keanu’s music room, resuming where you’d left off in his music collection. He really has got a bit of everything, but you can tell his tastes lie with punk rock and – surprisingly – jazz music, which couldn’t be more different. He’s got a framed photo of John Coltrane hanging on the wall, and someone has written “THE MAN!” in bright green sharpie along the bottom.

In fact, there’s a number of items in the music room that have been vandalized by a green sharpie, and you wonder if it was done by Keanu himself or someone he knows.

After listening to a few albums on his incredible sound system – and drifting in and out of sleep towards the end – you turn everything off and head to the guest room to get in bed. Music can solve problems temporarily, but as soon as your head hits the pillow your mind is flooded with anxious thoughts about what Jay had said this morning. Do you really want your legacy to be commercials? You came to LA to be a serious actor, not a housekeeper who sells tampons.

And it’s not that you hate being a housekeeper – because surprisingly it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had – but living in this house is just a constant reminder of the success you still have yet to achieve.

But Keanu’s been working at this for over 30 years, you tell yourself, trying to calm your brain down, he didn’t get this house overnight.

You wish you could ask him for some advice, but he’s an ocean away – and besides, you barely know the man. Even the so-called nicest man in Hollywood can’t possibly be going around giving advice willy nilly to struggling actresses. He has more important things to do, like actually work.

Still, you can’t help but anticipate finally meeting him and getting to talk to him face to face. Maybe once he actually knows who you are he’ll be able to give you some words of wisdom.

Or maybe he’ll hate you.

You shove your pillow over your head.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, there’s something different. You’re initially not sure what it is because you’re so groggy, untangling yourself from the blankets and slowly sitting up in bed. You take a few deep breaths, eyes hooded and tired – you didn’t sleep very well, your thoughts keeping you up for most of the night. You reach over and unlock your phone, blinking down at the screen and staring at it for a few seconds: 5:13 AM.

Your eyebrows scrunch. 5:13? That’s almost an hour earlier than what your alarm was set for. Why the hell are you awake at 5:13?

And that’s when you hear it.

First, it’s just a faint shuffling sound, but it’s enough to make you freeze.

Then, a thud. Clear and distinct – definitely coming from another part of the house.

You’re suddenly wide awake, heart pounding in your chest as you spring up from the bed and stand still for a few moments, hand coming up to push your hair back as you stare at the floor and try and figure out what the fuck to do.

Maybe it’s someone he knows, you think to yourself, a friend who has a key. Or Jay, maybe it’s Jay.

Your mind is suddenly flooded with a news headline you remember reading when you’d done a bit of research a few weeks ago. You’d already known a lot about him, but you’d still done a quick google search to see if there was anything pressing you should know before taking the job. You remember it now, your stomach churning: Keanu Reeves’ Home Invaded Twice Within Three Days.

As far as you can recall it had been stalkers, and they hadn’t been violent. But they’d still broken into his house. The idea of some random person rifling through Keanu’s house at this very moment while you’re literally a room away makes your stomach turn.

You unlock your phone and bite your lip, deliberating on whether or not you should call the police. What if you’re wrong and it really is just someone he knows? What if it’s the grocery people again? The concept of having police come to Keanu’s house over something completely harmless already has you feeling embarrassed beyond belief.

You decide to quietly take a peek before you make any rash decisions. Tiptoeing to the door, you slowly open it and silently thank the universe that it doesn’t make any noise. You slide through the opening and walk slowly and precisely down the hall, your socked feet barely making a sound against the floor. As you get further down the hallway, the noises get closer, and you’re able to recognize that they’re coming from the kitchen.

The sun is already rising so luckily you can see where you’re walking, and once you reach the end of the hall you press yourself against the wall and take a steadying breath. It’s okay, just take a peek. Easy peasy.

You slowly peek your head out past the wall to look into the kitchen, unsure what exactly you’re expecting to see. The moment you do this, your eyes lock onto the person standing in front of the kitchen island. The person pouring milk into a bowl of cereal. The person with long dark hair and scruff covering half of his face.

The person whose deep brown eyes are suddenly locked onto yours.

-----

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