#oh yeah round teeth also. too much gum

[1percentcharge]

I lowkey don’t like any of my physical traits lol there’s no aspect of my appearance I don’t have a big problem with

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things: chapter five

Aizawa x reader fic

cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)

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Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.

“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”

Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.

“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”

“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”

“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”

Both men give him identical deadpan stares.

“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”

“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.

“The what?”

“Some places use peanut o’l.”

“Say oil.”

Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”

“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”

You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.

“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”

“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”

You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.

Embarrassment.

Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.

“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”

You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.

“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.

A collective glance is shared between the group.

“Touya again?”

Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.

“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”

“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.

“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”

When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.

“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”

Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.

“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”

“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”

“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”

Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.

“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”

“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”

“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.

You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…

But it’s someone else’s.

“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.

“I think you should kill that fucker.”

You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.

“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.

Not helpful.

“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I’m the expert on being a cunt-”

“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.

“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”

Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”

“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”

The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.

“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”

“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”

“Kaminari!”

“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”

You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--

“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”

Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.

“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”

“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”

The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-

(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)

“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”

The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”

…

Be mean.

You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.

On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--

You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.

Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.

As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.

You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.

“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”

You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,

“That’s how it’s going to be?”

You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.

“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”

You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.

This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.

Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.

Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.

Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.

“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”

Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.

….This coffee, however, does not.

[sserpente]

A/N: Okay, so I had a dream about this and wanted to write it down. Then it sort of escalated to 5k words. Well then. Have fun reading!

Words: 5133 Warnings: smut, forced relationship, kind of (?), Neil + mentions of abuse

“Billy moved out, did you hear? Got himself a nice place in the apartment block down the road from Starcourt Mall,” Sally, one of your best friends, mentioned surrounded by the loud noises of the arcade machines around you two.

“You’re making it sound like I should give a shit?” You rolled your eyes, downing your drink. You’d had a shitty day at work, you were allowed to pout, especially because Billy Hargrove was a self-absorbed and arrogant womaniser collecting girls like Lego sets. Perhaps you would still be charmed by him to this day if he hadn’t managed to lure you into his bed all those nights ago. Since then… no phone calls, no hellos upon passing one another in Hawkins, no nothing.

“Oh, come on.”

“Please… admire him from afar if you must but stay away from him. You know he’s trouble.”

Your friend threw another plush basketball at the blinking arcade machine in front of her. She wasn’t even close to breaking the high score.

“Hello? Promise me you’ll stay away from him!” you insisted.

“Ugh, fine, I promise! Your turn.” The machine gave a disappointing sound, signalising the end of the round. Your friend handed you the last plush basketball.

You sighed, pressing the blinking button that was also shaped and painted like a basketball to start a new one.

“Don’t win without me, I need the bathroom.” And with that, she strolled off, leaving you to yourself. You sighed once more, attempting to break the high score in the meantime. The main prize was a portable record player with headphones that you really wanted.

But unfortunately, it seemed like the odds were not in your favour today. Most of your throws weren’t even remotely successful and the counter right above the basketball net remained low. Perhaps it was your anger towards Billy Hargrove that made your movements way too uncontrolled.

“Need some help?” Speak of the devil. Your eyes widened when Billy stepped into your field of view and gently pushed you out of the way. Your lips parted but by then, within a matter of moments, he was already throwing the plush basketballs into the net as if he’d never done anything else. A few more balls and then… artificial bells sounded from the arcade machine and spat out the paper voucher for your portable record player. That fucker had beaten the high score.

“I was doing perfectly fine, you know.”

Billy took the ticket and handed it to you, grinning cheekily in the process. The smell of his minty chewing gum filled your nostrils—he was way too close for your comfort right now, so you took a step back, glaring at him.

“What’s wrong, doll? Am I making you uncomfortable? Or perhaps a little too comfortable?”

“Oh, please,” you spat. “Get away from me before I get sick.”

“Careful, you’re almost making it sound like you didn’t enjoy our little get-together then.”

“Well, it wasn’t that special if that’s what you’re wondering,” you lied. “You’re so fucking full of yourself, Hargrove. Grow a spine.”

“That’s not what you told me when we were in bed.” Billy’s grin grew even wider as he chewed on his gum as if to emphasise his sneaky words.

“How much of a cliché could you possibly be? Fuck off already!”

“I propose a bet.”

You raised your eyebrows, teeth grinding. “Do you now?”

“Yeah. I happened to overhear your little conversation with your friend. Sally, is it, right? I wonder… I wonder if I could get her to go out with me.”

“Yeah, right. She trusts me, Hargrove. I told her in great detail what a big arsehole you are.”

“Listen to me. If you win, I’ll leave you both alone, alright?” He lifted his hands as if you were pointing a gun at him. “But if I win… you play my girlfriend this weekend.”

His girlfriend!? You must have been hard of hearing. “I’ll do what?”

“My dad is stressing me out about being unable to hold a girl once I’ve fucked her.”

“You aren’t,” you interrupted. Billy gnashed his teeth for a moment.

“So I want to prove to him that’s not the case and bring home a proper girlfriend for Valentine’s Day this weekend. You were the first person I could think of that…”

“That what?” you interrupted him yet again, bracing yourself for an insult.

“That I would actually consider under different circumstances,” he ended, almost a little reluctantly.

Oh. Well, you had certainly not expected that.

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, Billy. Besides, Sally will never agree to go out with you after how you treated me when we… met.” You had meant to say dated. But then again, that wasn’t quite right. He’d lured you into his bed after a nice dinner and that’d been the end of it.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Billy pointed at someone behind you with his chin. You spun around, trying to warn Sally but Billy was already strutting over as if he owned the place. He practically cornered her near one of the pillars, leaning against it with his right arm and towering above her like… oh, fuck, you despised the fact you were still attracted to him!

Any moment now, she would shake her head and push him out of the way. Content with that forecast, you watched her bat her eyelashes at him. Wait, what!?

She was not! Traitor! Your jaw dropped as you watched Sally tuck a strand of her hair behind her ears and mouth a wholehearted yes. You were seething by the time she returned to you with Billy right next to her.

“Looks like you’ll meet me for dinner at mine this weekend. Wear something pretty,” he mused as he walked past you, winking in the process. Fuming, you almost crumbled the paper voucher in your hands, even more so when Sally made it back over too and you started screaming bloody murder at her.

“You are so stupid, Hargrove.”

“You’ve had better insults, doll. I’ll see you on Valentine’s Day. I’ll pick you up at five.”

-

Friday came around a lot sooner than you would have liked. You hadn’t spoken to Sally since the Billy incident, only picked up your portable record player and left with a quick goodbye after your rant—and without letting her explain herself.

Granted, she hadn’t known about the bet but hadn’t you warned her about Billy only moments before he’d shown up?

You sighed when you heard the doorbell ring not a minute after five. Surprised that he was on time, you strutted downstairs. You would have been damned if you had decided to wear a dress for him. Instead, you had chosen a leather skirt with black tights and a red top matching the day.

When you opened the door for him, your lips parted. In his right hand, he was holding a massive rose bouquet.

“Wow. Cheesy, Hargrove.”

“I agree. But girls appear to like this shit, so…”

“Yeah, we do. If the guy actually means it.” Billy bit back a grin and handed you the roses before nodding toward his car.

“Let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes when you grabbed your bag and your jacket and followed after him, making sure to take some extra time to lock your door. He let you store the roses in the backseat for now but when you moved to get in his car, he suddenly stopped you.

“What? No kiss?”

“Excuse me? We’re not even near your dad’s house yet.”

“You see those kids over there?” You followed his glance while Billy’s travelled back to you. “They hang out with Max. I need them all to think it’s real, alright? That starts now.”

“You’re stupid, you know that?”

“Come on, doll. They’re looking over already.” Billy had you trapped against his car, making you swallow thickly. The scent of his aftershave was almost overwhelming and with his strong body pressing against yours, and you were reminded once again of what had driven you to get naked for him in the first place.

Grunting quietly, you looked at him, grabbing him by his leather jacket to pull him close. He took the reluctant invitation immediately, kissing you so ferociously that he left you breathless within a heartbeat. Billy’s tongue slipped into your mouth, battling yours for dominance, his impatient hands travelling all over your sides until they came to rest against your butt cheeks.

Your eyes fluttered shut, the sensation of his lips against yours sucking you into the memory of how eager and willing you had been the first time he had taken you out for dinner. He’d been charming, cocky, had known exactly what to say to make your knees buckle… you would be lying if you claimed you didn’t enjoy making out with him now, the way you dug your nails into his shoulders was solid proof of that.

Fuck, stop it. It’s pretense. Pulling yourself together, you eventually mustered the necessary composure to push him away. Max’s friends, whoever they were, turned away quickly as if to pretend they hadn’t just gawked at you two.

Billy smirked cheekily. “You stole my gum.”

You had indeed. You blew a bubble with it casually, shrugging your shoulders in the process. “So get a new one. Are we leaving or what?”

“As you wish, doll. The chariot’s waiting.”

You rolled your eyes once more. You sincerely doubted Billy Hargrove would ever love anything or anyone more than this damned car.

“So?” you asked once you were both sat and Billy had started the engine, now driving you towards his house.

He gave you a quick glance. “So what?”

“What do I tell your dad? How long have we been dating? How did we make things official? What drugs did you give me so I’d start calling a jerk like you my boyfriend?”

Billy took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The quiet metal music coming from his radio was oddly calming and the entire car was reeking of cigarette smoke… you didn’t hate it. And that bothered you.

“Say you couldn’t get me out of your head after our first date. Leave the rest to me and just nod and smile.”

“Ever the sexist arse,” you remarked with a sweet smile.

“How’s that sexist? I’ve planned the lie through, alright? Just play along, doll, can you do that for me?”

“You’re practically forcing me to do this, it’s still sexist.”

“You lost a bet. I’m a fair winner.” He grinned, making you gnash your teeth and cross your arms before your chest. He wasn’t even wrong. You didn’t know what Billy had told his dad about you—you only knew that the man was allegedly abusive.

It was a thought that made you slightly nauseous and uncomfortable, even more so when Billy finally pulled up in the driveway and stopped the engine.

“Right, we’re here.” He turned his head to you and for the first time, it almost seemed like there was fear glistening in his blue eyes. “You won’t screw this up for me, right? Please.” Your lips parted when he spoke your name so softly it made your heart jump.

His eyebrows rose when you sighed, remembering what your friend had told you about Billy’s reason for moving. What if it was true? What if there was an actual reason for this ridiculous little white lie he’d spun with you? “No. No, I won’t screw it up. I’m not an arse. Billy… before we go in there, I need to ask you something though.”

“What?”

“Is it… is it true your dad hit you? Is that why you left? Is that… why you’re trying to impress him so much and make him believe I’m your girlfriend?”

When he snorted, you were certain he couldn’t possibly have reacted in any other way. But then, when his eyes met yours again… there wasn’t just fear swimming in them. It was terror—and all of a sudden, you actually felt bad for him.

No one deserved that. It probably wasn’t short of a miracle Billy was such an arsehole, he didn’t know it any better and all those girls he lured into his bed… that boy was so desperate for love it baffled you that you had never seen it before.

You’d act out of human decency. At least, that’s what you’d tell yourself throughout this evening, you decided when you finally got out of the car and let Billy take you inside. You were greeted by Max’s mum as soon as you stepped over the threshold. She embraced you warmly, then held you an arm-length away from her to look you in the eye.

“Billy has told me so much about you already. I’m so glad he found someone for himself. You’re as beautiful as he was raving too,” she added with a wink. It was then you spotted Max behind her, rolling her eyes and giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah, what she said,” Billy’s father tossed in. You took a deep breath when he entered the hallway and offered you his hand. He almost squished your fingers when you took it.

“You actually do exist. He’s a little fuckboy, I was worried he’d made you up.”

“Oh… well, no, last time I checked I was real.”

Billy chuckled, pulling you close. Oddly enough, comfort flowed through you like a gushing wave of salt water when he did, calming your nerves that were all of a sudden competing at an imaginary race. You didn’t actually know if you were a good actress—and Max was already looking at you suspiciously but, with one single threatening look from Billy, she gave him a languid expression, rolled her eyes one more time, and made her way to the kitchen, presumably to help her mother finish dinner.

“Did you like the roses? I helped Billy pick them out for you,” Susan called out from over there when you took off your jacket and let Billy take it from you.

“Oh yes, they’re lovely, thank you.”

“So…” You shuddered when Neil spoke your name. It felt different. Whenever Billy said it, it felt like he was seducing you. “… how on Earth did my son pull you then? Don’t get me wrong, you seem proper enough, I just didn’t think he’d ever introduce an actual girlfriend to us. He fucks everything with boobs.”

Your eyes widened and you almost choked on the glass of water Max had handed you in the meantime.

“I… fell in love with him. I didn’t care about the girls before me because he didn’t either. I guess it just… happened.”

“Really…” Neil didn’t seem convinced—not because he thought you were lying, you were sure, but because he genuinely couldn’t believe a woman would fall for his son and give him a chance. Technically, you didn’t. And that made you feel even worse for him.

It was Susan who ended up resolving the tense situation by sticking her head through the open kitchen door. “Well… let’s eat, shall we? I made a rabbit stew for the occasion.”

You nodded gratefully, moving towards the set dining table that Neil pointed to.

“You’re quite a good actress, doll,” Billy whispered into your ear as he brushed past you, his hand sneaking around your waist. You shivered when you felt his warm breath against your earlobe. Damn him.

-

Sitting at the dinner table with Billy’s dad, Susan and Max was no less awkward than pretending to be Billy’s girlfriend. The conversations were forced and tense, almost as if every single one of them would have liked to be somewhere else.

Max excused herself as soon as she finished her plate, grabbed her skateboard and mumbled something about meeting up with Lucas, Mike, Dustin and Will to which Billy shot you an I-told-you-so-glare. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but when he grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tightly almost as if to calm you down, you instantly relaxed. Your entwined fingers… felt good. It felt right. You could almost get used to that.

Shit, snap out of it!

“Are you two staying the night, Billy?” Susan asked politely as she stood to collect the dirty plates. Neil, in the meantime, did not make a single move, instead sipped on his beer. You suppressed a snort. If it was Billy and you, you’d make him help you or so help him.

“I don’t think so, Susan but thank you. I have an early shift tomorrow and my place is closer to the pool than yours.”

You were pretty certain that was a lie but even if it wasn’t, you appreciated Billy not trapping you here overnight too. You had to get away from him again as soon as you possibly could if you wanted to avoid catching actual feelings for him because with every passing minute… that got harder and harder.

Susan was surprisingly open-minded toward both him and you and Billy… talked. More than you had ever heard him talk. Turned out he was quite intelligent and took interest in the world of finance and various sports. He was quite good with geography, you figured, and he had only recently finished reading “The Name of the Rose” by Umberto Eco. If he had told you any of that… if he had told any girl any of that… he would have had no need to charm the pants off of everybody the way he did. Why did he always act like such an arsehole? Perhaps… perhaps because whatever he said, nothing was ever good enough for Neil. Perhaps… Billy had stopped bothering because he assumed he wouldn’t be able to impress girls with that either. Well… he’d certainly impressed you tonight without even knowing.

You caught yourself staring at him the moment your eyes met. Quickly, you snapped yourself out of it and cleared your throat.

“Would you like some dessert?” Susan’s voice tore through the sudden silence.

“I’m full, Susan, thank you,” Bill responded, not taking his gaze off of you. You swallowed.

“Me too. I won’t have to eat for three more days after this. It was delicious.”

Susan smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Let me take you home,” Billy continued then, getting up from his chair. You nodded, holding back a whine when he inevitably let go of your hand to retrieve your jacket for you. As soon as you joined him, he pressed his lips on yours as if to prove a point. Wait, no… he was proving a point. So why did you melt into that kiss? His hands on your cheeks felt good, even more so when his thumbs stroked over your cheekbones.

By the time he released you, both Neil and Susan were standing as well, ready to say goodbye.

“It was… nice to meet you, Neil. And you, Susan.”

“The pleasure was all mine, my dear. Come visit again soon, will you?” Max’s mum pulled you into a hug, Neil gave you another painful handshake.

“Take care of him. The boy really does need a woman in his life who’ll take care of his shit.” Sexist idiot.

You smiled sweetly at him to not provoke a fight, more than happy when Billy finally led you back outside and to his car. He lit himself a cigarette all the while you let out a relieved sigh as soon as the door closed behind you and inhaled the crisp cold air. It was dark out already.

“Thank you,” Billy broke the silence after a few heartbeats. “You saved my ass today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll take you home.”

And then what? We never speak of this again?

“Don’t you think they’ll find out eventually? That we’re not actually a couple?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I don’t live here anymore. My dad can go suck a dick, I won’t tell him shit about my relationships after tonight.”

“And what if Susan asks about me again?”

“What’s with the questions?” He barked with a start.

“Well, excuse me, Billy, you dragged me into this net of lies. What do I tell everybody else? The town is quite small in case you haven’t noticed.” And strangely, I wouldn’t be opposed to keeping up the act for a while longer, you added silently.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll figure something out. I’m taking you home, get in the car.” He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground and blew the smoke into the cold air before stomping it out with his shoe.

You did as you were told only barely managing not to mutter a quiet “arsehole”. You absolutely hated the effect he had on you and when for a split second, he wasn’t being insufferable… he was actually likeable. You’d seen it. Tonight, you had seen it and you wanted more of it. It gave your heart… and your pussy, god damn it, a reason to desire him and that fucking pissed you off, and hence…

Hence the car ride back to your place was quiet. Only that made you even angrier. With every passing second, the sexual tension between you grew more and more.

“So when are you taking Sally out, then?” you asked spitefully.

Billy smirked and shook his head. “I’m not taking her out. Well, I probably will now that I’ve told her I would but I won’t fuck her. She’s not my type.”

Your jaw dropped, head whipping in his direction. “So what, you just played her in order to get me to agree to this?”

“Would you rather I fucked her?” That shut you up. No. Of course not. First of all, you didn’t want Sally to experience the very same heartbreak you had gone through because of him. Second of all… the thought of it oddly made you jealous.

You gnashed your teeth, refusing to say another word to him until he stopped the car right in front of your house and you practically stormed out of his car.

“Hey!”

You spun around, prepared for another snarky comment. Billy had climbed out of the car, holding the bouquet he had gotten you.

“You forgot your roses.”

“Right. Thanks.” You rolled your eyes, treading back to retrieve them from him and staring him down in the process but Billy was unwilling to lose the stare-down contest. It was the moment his fingers brushed against yours that you lost it—that you both lost it.

The roses landed on the asphalt when he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you so ferociously he knocked all air from your body before he flipped you around and pressed you against the side of his car, his tongue invading your mouth to taste you all the while you dug your nails into his jacket.

Hastily, Billy opened the door to the backseat of his car without parting with your lips even once. He pushed you back inside impatiently, hovering above you with your feet dangling out.

“Climb in,” he breathed out in between a few more sloppy kisses. His saliva was all over your chin at this point and yet, you never wanted him to stop making out with you ever again. You’d missed this. You’d missed him. And you hadn’t realised just how much you missed having sex with him after that one night your subconscious had been holding on to so tightly it now made you dizzy.

You did as you were told so Billy could close the door, next thing you knew he was already tugging at your clothes to get you naked. You had to admit it wasn’t so easy to undress in a car and you were more than just grateful to your past you for wearing a skirt today. Billy ripped your knickers straight off of you, tossing them away.

“Ass! You’re… buying me… a new pair…” You managed to choke out in between his sloppy kisses. Fuck, that man really did know how to snog. As an apology, he dipped his right hand between your legs, cupping your pussy in a possessive manner before gently parting your lips and teasing your clit with this middle finger.

You arched your back, unable to hold back a moan and you were glad the engine was still running to drown out the noise you were making to any passers-by. Billy worked you up quickly, his other hand busying himself with your jacket, your top and your bra. You groaned once he had gotten them all off of you with your help.

Fuck, why were you naked already and he wasn’t?

“Saves time,” he responded. Wait, had you said that out loud? Was his delicious treatment already clouding your senses? Bucking your hips up to meet his delicious touches, you soon felt a familiar heat pooling between your legs. Billy had you wet within minutes and when he pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them to stimulate your g-spot, you were putty in his hands.

The slick noises of him fucking you with his digits filled the car along with your panting, his thumb never ceasing to play with your clit. More kisses, more tongue, more teeth.

He soon left a wet trail from your jaw down to your neck, tasting his way all over your upper body. You whimpered when he found that one sensitive spot right below your eyes and began to suck on it with relish until your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were sure he’d leave a hickey. Now that was going to be fun explaining this to Sally tomorrow—but right now, you couldn’t care less.

Eventually, Billy withdrew visibly reluctant, leaning over to the passenger seat to open the glove compartment to snatch a condom. You sat up, giving him more space. He was quick to fumble with his belt and the buttons and zipper of his jeans and you watched with your mouth practically watering how with but a few skilled and quick movements of his hands, he rolled the condom over his erect member. The light in the car was gloomy, you couldn’t make out all of his features but it was enough to give his hard cock a moment of appreciation. You licked your lips, imagining what it would feel like to suck him like a popsicle. But maybe not in the car.

Billy sat back then, his hands wrapping around your wrists to pull you towards him. You climbed on his lap, careful not to bang your head on the roof of the car and held on to his shoulders all the while he guided his length into your dripping cunt.

Slowly, you sat down on him, impaling yourself on his cock until he was fully sheathed inside of you, pressing against your cervix. The slight pain was bittersweet, even more so when he cupped your arse under your skirt and began to move you for him. You fell into a fast and greedy rhythm soon enough, riding him eagerly on the hunt for your release.

Your foreheads were touching, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. Soon, you were fucking vigorously, a moaning and lustful mess turning the windows around you foggy. The smell of sex filled the entire car, the slick noises of your pussy and skin slapping against skin heightening your arousal even further.

You were done for when he sneaked his hands between your legs again, right to where your bodies met to give that sensitive bundle of nerves some more attention. You stopped lifting your hips up and down for a second, grinding on him to intensify the sensation and then, just like that, you fell.

Just like the first time you’d slept together, Billy was one of the very few men who’d ever accomplished to make you cum—the fact that he was insanely attractive obviously helped but it was his skilled fingers that knew exactly what to do with you, playing you like an instrument.

Your orgasm rippled through you uncontrollably, your cunt squeezing his cock, demanding his seed. You were almost annoyed by the thin layer of latex separating the two of you when he too came, thrusting up into you a few more times before grabbing a hold of your arse again and pressing you down on him all the while your pulsing walls were still milking his jerking dick for all he was worth.

Your legs were shaking by the time you both came down from your high. Letting your head fall on his shoulder, your heavy breathing was the only sound echoing through the car for a few moments.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift tomorrow,” he suddenly said.

“For… what?” you panted.

“I’m taking you out. Without pretending this time.” You whined when he lifted you off of him to remove the condom from his softening cock. To busy yourself, you gathered your clothes in the meantime.

“And…” Hesitant, you put your bra back on, struggling with the clasp a little. Your hands were still trembling from your orgasm. “What’s the endgame?”

Billy stared at you, almost as if he was outraged you’d dare ask him to speak it out loud. With your heart in your mouth, part of you was way too excited about the fact that maybe… maybe whatever there was between you could be more.

“I don’t know, okay? Fuck, I like… I do like the idea of you being my girlfriend. There. Happy?”

You grinned, biting your lower lip after adjusting your skirt and pulling your shirt back over your head, not bothering to put your jacket back on for the few metres to your door.

“Yeah. Very much so, actually.”

Billy shook his head. “Great.”

“I should… head inside now.”

“Don’t forget those cheesy flowers, they were goddamn expensive.”

You chuckled, picking them up from the ground when you got out of the car. They’d survived the fall, luckily, with only a few petals now decorating the cold asphalt. This time, the cold air hit you like a blow in the face, your sweaty skin much more vulnerable to the cool temperatures. Billy followed suit after adjusting his trousers, pulling you close to him yet again.

“Good night, Billy.”

“Good night. Dream of me.” He winked, kissing you gently one last time. “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You scoffed. “Happy Valentine’s Day, you arse.”

You could still feel his hot gaze on you until you’d disappeared inside your house and locked the door behind you. Fuck. You’d dream of him tonight indeed.

-

A/N: Come say Hi on my blog if you enjoyed this Imagine! There’s so many more on there! ♥

PS: I totally stole one line from this Billy Hargrove POV on Youtube. I believe it’s called “The Hawkins lifeguard notices you staring”, go check it out, I really recommend it! ;-)

[subspencer]

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

.

.

.

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

[mypersonmyg]

private checkout, girl | jhs

pairing: store owner!(selective stripper??)!hoseok x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg15

wc: 1.4k

warnings: swearing,  a little bit of suggestive language but nothing too out there

summary: you get an invite to the party OR the employees here suck

a/n: drabble of the day, I’m back and better than ever even tho this banner (like all of my banners) is ugly. i was thinking of making this a drabble series,,,thoughts?

[drabble masterlist]

“Just go in and hand the list to whoever is behind the counter. I think the owner is in today, he’ll take really good care of you.” Namjoon drags the words in a chuckle, your eyes narrowing at the sign that reads Blue Side Liquor in spritely neon. 

“What does that mean?” Your eyes scan the list, liquors you could never dream, let alone pronounce, filtering through your lens and the quick pick of your brain before it’s out of sight without a second thought. You almost question the lengthy contract and Namjoon’s insistence that brought you to the sidewalk of the fancy store, the clientele worth more than the stringy crossbody clutched to your chest. “And why couldn’t you come and pick up the alcohol? Everyone is gonna think I’m insane.” 

“It was either that or the adult party store, you’re lucky I like you. Besides, you know how Jin loves his alcohol and you want him to have a good time, right?”

“I also know that Jin has an entire line-up of groomsmen and I’m not even invited to the party,” You tut, feet skipping against the concrete uneven and cracked, as you push through the door. The air is cool and crisp and it smells like sanitizer, a wider selection than the local store you frequent with Namjoon and certainly more welcoming. You have no further questions about his lack of appearance, the shatter of a single bottle likely more than a month’s worth of bills. “Why couldn’t Yoongi do it?”

“You aren’t invited because you would ruin the vibes—”

“I would not ruin the vibes, how rude.”

“—Yoongi is busy at the adult party store, keep up.” 

“Okay, what are you doing then?” 

“I’m managing. Now could you please just do what I’m asking? Jin is counting on you.” 

The line clicks dead and your hand shoves to the recesses of your purse, dropping your phone and pulling free a stick of gum which you oh-so-slowly feed past your teeth on your way to the counter. You don’t miss odd looks or the hushed whispers of patrons debating the riches of bourbon that you could only hope to decipher with your mushed brains, savanted in areas other than the shine of a bottle housing liquid gold.

The counter is void, no one to be seen bored and scrolling through a phone or showing off the impressive selection on chic display. You lean against surprising marble, cool along skin kissed by mid summer heat, and glance around for an inkling of service. 

“Man, the service here stinks.” You startle, a voice over your shoulder drawing you to face warmth. You immediately duck, too blinded by the swift smile and radiant complexion to engage head on. 

His cheeks are well crafted, one of the most beautifully constructed you’ve ever seen. Your hands ache to trace the lines of his jaw to the perfect positioning of apple cheeks that frame eyes of hazelnut, forehead exposed by the brush of hair much the same if not darker.

“Oh, yeah, you would think such a fancy place would have decent employees. Win some, lose some I guess.”

“Ooh, ouch. Well, on behalf of my wonderful employees, I apologize for my poor time management skills.” You shrink inward, that smile a contagion lacking sick when his body glides past yours, hands sure to grip quick to your hips to avoid collision as he rounds the counter. He seems unoffended but the mortification must paint your face if his laughter is any indication of the hilarity he finds in your sudden situation. “I’m Hoseok, and yes, this poor establishment is all mine.” 

“Oh my—I’m so sorry. You’re the owner and I just totally insulted your business.” He lets you ramble, arms perching atop the counter to cradle his delicate structure in his hands, hands that draw your eyes with immediate interest where they curl at the tips with a graceful precision. . “If it makes you feel any better, the store I usually go to doesn’t even have really good stuff like this place, but I don’t even know anything about alcohol which I didn’t need to tell you but I can’t seem to stop talking so I would appreciate it if you could tell me how I’m doing with this apology right about now.”

“Tell me how handsome I am and we’ll call it even.” You’re lost for words, but he picks up the slack, his cheeks now tinted with a blush to account for his sudden bashfulness, hands held up in a mock defense to your sputtering. “I’m kidding, I’m sure I couldn’t take it from someone as beautiful as yourself.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” You mutter, compliment heating your palms, your neck, and up to your cheeks. You seem to recall the nature of your occupation at the counter, not blind to the small line forming behind you, customers with more bottles than you can count making your purchase just a little less extreme. You hold the list between your fingers, “I was told that you could help me with this?” 

“I may not know how to run a store,” He teases, slipping the notes from your grasp, fingers kissing your own for just a moment, filled with warmth nonetheless. He scans it before regarding you with a satisfied grin. “But I’m damn good with my alcohol. Looks like someone is having a party.” 

“A bachelor party.”

“Oh, congratulations. He’s a very lucky guy.” His smile drops just a tad, eyes returning to the list with a renewed interest. You fiddle with a package of playing cards, tongue tracing the dry of your lips to conceal your dazzled gaze. 

“Actually I’m not the bride, I’m just in charge of the liquor.” 

“Hm, what about the entertainment?” 

“Ha, I’m not sure I wanna know what they have planned.” You refuse to imagine the bags that will weigh Yoongi when he’s made it past check-out, silently cursing Namjoon for forcing his hand to save face in front of faces who will remember him for no more than ten seconds after his departure from the store. 

“I don’t normally do this, but I would be willing to provide some entertainment if you’re gonna be there.” You almost ask him his brand until he turns back, depositing an armful of bottles to the counter. You note the promiscuous lack of buttons done on his shirt, the material teasing against his flesh, tan skin peeking from a tantalizing tightness of silk. You feel the natural bulge of your eyes, pupils in resolute dilation. 

“Oh.Um…I’m not actually gonna be there, I’m just the errand girl so you’d be wasting your time. Apparently, I would ruin the vibes. Thank you though” You almost wish you were the bride, the mere image of perfection taped to your lids damning you and the sudden quake in your knees.

“Funny,” His head tilts, lip sliding between glistening pearls. “I was just thinking the exact opposite. A private show sometime then...and I wouldn’t mind if there was dinner involved.” 

“You’re asking me out.” You state dumbly, taken aback by the whole exchange, wondering if the two men, middle aged and still rambling about the presence or lack thereof of a nutty taste to the bottles in their grasp have taken notice of the slight flirtation.

“I’m just saying that the drinks are on the house and you should take my card. That is if you’re comfortable and my horrible customer service hasn’t completely ruined my chances.” You nod, his hands quick tearing a scrap from one of the flyers hanging on the near bulletin to scribble a succession. He slides it over the counter and lifts your bag, a sturdy recyclable rivaling the paper of your usual haunt, in his hands. 

“Hobi?” You decipher his scrawl above the summation of numbers in jet black. 

“That’s my name, wear it out as much as you want. Let me walk you to your car.” You glance at the line behind you, then to Hoseok who’s appeared at your side without a second thought.  

“Shouldn’t you help your other customers?” 

“Eh, the employees here suck anyways.” 

“Hobi!”

“Oh, I could get used to that.” He closes his eyes, reveling in the sound of his name dropping from your lips. He opens them to your less enthused look, gesturing to the flow of people and he sighs. “I’m just kidding. Jeongguk!”

The spill of someone from the back of the store is immediate, a dough eyed employee taking station behind the counter. “Was he back there the whole time?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why wasn’t he oh...I don’t know, working?” 

“If you saw you walk into the store you wouldn’t let him out here either.” 

[infernalshadowtheif]

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?"  Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side. 

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. 

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be." 

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to  use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human. 

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week. 

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again. 

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline. 

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides. 

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.” 

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.” 

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage. 

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone. 

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't. 

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?” 

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?" 

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of. 

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why." 

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment. 

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over,  making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound. 

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s  worth anything.” 

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now." 

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please  bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??" 

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back." 

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now." 

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body. 

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

[crystalwillow]

The Pregnancy, Part One

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Tagging: @kiteplayschoices @brycelahelalover @obsessedheehee @eleanorbloom @fuseboxmusebox @princesslahela @vibrantlyjaz @kaavyaethanramsey @queencarb @schnitzelbutterfingers @ramseysno1rookie @caseyvalentineramsey @ethanramseyswhore @whippedforethanfreakingramsey

=================================

It was two weeks after Ethan and Casey had returned from their honeymoon and they were now back at work. Casey sat at the briefing table in the diagnostics room zoned out on a piece of paper as she focused on trying to keep her nauseous feeling at bay. But it was no use, suddenly she snapped back to reality as she rose to her feet and bolted out of the door to the nearest toilet. This wasn't the first time she had had to bolt to a bathroom to puke like this. This was about the 4th time it was happening this week. Casey flung open the bathroom door bursting in before leaning over the sink and puking out everything that was in her stomach. A knock on the door was followed by a voice asking if she was alright, "I'm fine! she shouted back before spitting out what was left in her mouth and cleaning the bathroom sink and herself up. Once she was done, she opened the door and was surprised to see Baz standing there, a concerned look on his face "Is everything okay?" he asked, Casey nodded "yeah it's fine" she smiled. "Ethan would have come but he's kin-" Baz started to explain but stopped when fast footsteps and a frantic voice came towards them. "Baz. what's taking so long? is she okay? I asked you to report back on the status of my wife ime-" Ethan rumbled but stopped as he rounded the corner, nearly crashing right into both. He took a step back and adjusted his gaze onto Casey, his brow creasing with worry as he looked closely and saw her clammy with sweat. "You're going home" he stated, "What?? Honey, I'm fine. I must have just had a dodgy croissant with my coffee this morning or something." Casey argued calmly, "Or the milk in the coffee was dodgy" Baz chimed in. Casey nodded in agreement. "Nope. Your skin is clammy, you just threw up in the sink, and, you have bags under your eyes. I am not having a member of my team, much less my wife, at work when they are ill. Get your bag and go home." He ordered trying to hide the worry he was feeling, before turning on his heel and walking back to the diagnostics room. Baz followed mouthing a quick "I'm sorry" to Casey.

Sighing, Casey collected her bag, slipping off her white coat and headed towards the elevators, pressing the button and waiting to get in. Once it arrived at her floor, she stepped and punched the button for the ground floor. She had quite a way to go down, so she occupied herself by pulling out her phone and headphones to get them ready for her journey home on the bus. Halfway down to the ground floor, the elevator stopped, and someone stepped in, also punching the button for the ground floor. "Hey" the person said, making Casey jump. She looked up to see her bright-eyed friend Bryce standing in the elevator with her, "hey" she said back with a small smile. "What's up?" he asked as he took in her glum expression. "Ethan's sending me home because I was just sick in the sink upstairs. I honestly don't think it's anything serious, but he doesn't want 'a tired and sick member of his team. much less his wife.' at work. I mean he didn't even allow me to use mouth wash or one of those chewy toothbrush things. he just demanded I got my bag and go ho-"Casey rambled on but stopped as Bryce put a gentle hand on her shoulder holding out half a pack of gum with a smile, "Take it. I have two more packs in my locker" he said softly. Casey gave a thankful smile and took it. The two hugged goodbye and went their separate ways.

Later that day, Casey was feeling tons better as she sat on the couch at home bored. She's done everything she could have. She'd watered the house plants, walked their dog, Bleu. She's even gone round the whole house cleaning and anti-bacterialising every surface that she could. So now, she was sat staring out the window at the garden with nothing to do. Suddenly, the house phone rang making her jump but she sprinted to answer it, desperate for human interaction. "Yes! Hello! This is Casey Ramsey speaking. How may I help you??!" she shouted down the phone excitedly waiting for an answer from the person on the other end, but instead was met with a familiar deep, rich chuckle "How are you?" Ethan asked. "ugh. it's you" she replied in a teasing tone, with a smirk on her lips. "oh. charming!" Ethan said back, sounding a little taken aback and offended. Casey just laughed. They spoke for the remainder of Ethan's lunch break before hanging up and going back to what they needed to do. When Ethan got home late that night, he found Casey asleep in bed, with Bleu snuggled next to her on his side of the bed. "Charming. I've been replaced by a puppy" he mumbled to himself amusingly. He cleaned up the left-over takeout containers and snapped a picture of Casey and Bleu, before then grabbing the spare blanket, taking he couch for the night, not wanting to disturb the cute situation in the bedroom.

The next morning, he woke up to the sound of Casey yet again in the bathroom puking. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled to the bathroom, his heart breaking in his chest when he turned to go into the bathroom at the sight of his wife hunched over the toilet crying and throwing her guts up uncontrollably. He walked in and crouched down beside her, holding her hair back and rubbing soothing circles on her back. Once the nausea spell was over Casey stood up and brushed her teeth, Ethan leaning on the door frame, looking at his wife, his brow was creased with concern. "What's going on babe? this is about the 5th day in a row this has happened" He asked with a voice full of worry. She didn't know what it was she felt, but the next thing she knew, Casey was slamming her toothbrush on the counter and snapping at her husband. She felt bad but somehow her outburst felt justified. "Why don't you think about what we've been trying to do for months. what we no longer use when we're intimate together. Why don't you just stop being such a stupid, dumb ass excuse of a man and THINK!" she screamed in his face before stomping past him back to the bedroom and slamming the door. Ethan stood there for a moment trying to process what just happened. Childhood memories came flooding back. He started to think Casey was going to start treating him the same as his mother did before she left him and his father all those years ago, but he knew his wife. and random outbursts for no reason were not her thing. Then suddenly it dawned on him. A child. They had been trying to conceive a child for almost 7 months now. Suddenly he felt what Casey must be feeling. Pure fear. she was scared, and rightly so. He knew they had been trying for a while but for it to have possibly happened after only almost 7 months of trying was quicker than either had anticipated. He went downstairs and got her a glass of water and some toast, went back upstairs gently knocking on the bedroom door before entering with the tray. "Hey. Um, I got you some breakfast. Nothing too heavy, just some lightly buttered toast and water" He said cautiously as he held the tray out. Casey sat up and took it from him. Not daring to look him in the eyes, with the guilt she felt for her unjustified, but in her mind at the time completely justified, outburst. Ethan sat down beside her, pulling her close to him to show her it was okay. "i love you" he reassured her as he kissed a deep meaningful kiss to her temple, whilst she took a bite of the toast. After she had finished breakfast, she apologized to Ethan and the two took a warm shower together, washing each other and sharing gentle hugs with tender kisses. Soon it was time for them to head to work. They planned to leave a bit earlier so that when they got there Casey could do a pregnancy test before her shift started.

Once they got to work, Casey kissed Ethan goodbye for the time being as he was starting an hour before her. She made her way to the nearest toilet and took the test. Her stomach grumbled so she put the test back in the box wrapped in tissue before shoving it back in her bag. She washed her hands then made her way to the cafeteria, where she purchased a yogurt and an apple juice. Soon 25 minutes had past, and she was nervous to look at her results. She was walking the hallways to a bathroom when she saw Tia. Bryce's girlfriend. "Tia!" she called out. Tia looked up and smiled at her "Hey Casey. What's up?" she asked friendlily "Could you check something for me? I'm a bit nervous" She confessed. "Sure" Tia answered politely, with a smile. Casey reached in her bag and passed her the test. "I took this. I need to know what it says" She told her. Tia nodded and went into the nearby storeroom. Casey followed her and faced in the opposite direction once they were inside. Tia opened the box and unwrapped the tissue. She stared at the test, a warm happiness spreading through her as a smile grew on her face. "well?" Casey asked nervously as she turned around. Tia shrugged as if she was going to say what Casey was dreading. The test is negative. But was taken by surprise when Tia turned the test to face her and it read a strong positive result. "omg." she gasped happily, stumbling back into the shelves, hand going to her stomach. "I... I'm" she was so speechless she dropped her bag and hugged Tia extremely tight as tears streamed from her eyes. Suddenly she pulled back with realization, "I've got to tell Ethan!" she exclaimed quietly, Snatching the test from Tia in excitement. Forgetting about her bag as she sprinted out of the storage room and to the elevators. Punching the button, impatiently waiting. "come on. come on." she pleaded. Soon the doors went ping and she sprinted in punch the button for hers and Ethan's floor. As it made it's way up it felt like it was taking an eternity to get to her husband. When she finally reached the floor, she sprinted out of the elevator and straight around the corner into another doctor. "so sorry. I'll make it up to you later!" She shouted as she sprinted to the diagnostics room. Looking through the glass windows as she approached, she was glad to see Ethan alone and she burst through the doors. Startled by the crash he looked up from his computer, seeing his wife standing there out of breath, then back at the time on his screen. "You don't start for another 23 minutes Casey why're yo-" he started to talk but Casey cut him off, "No. Babe, be quiet. come here. and kiss me. now" she demanded. Perplexed by what she just said, Ethan saved the files he was working on and walked over to her. Once he was close enough she grabbed the sides of his face and kissed him with the type of passion and love he had never felt before. It made him lightheaded. As much as he enjoyed, he pulled away and searched his wife's eyes trying to find an answer, but he couldn't. They were too lit up and wild with emotion. Then Casey placed the test in his hand. He looked down at it and almost fainted when he saw the result. Staggering to sit in a chair he looked at his wife with a newfound love. It was one that was deeper than the kind of love they normally shared. "we... we.... we're having a child" he said breathlessly as he felt himself tearing up. Casey sat next to him. "Yeah. We're going to be parents" she whispered happily. Leaping up suddenly, Ethan pulled Casey up with him sweeping her into another passion and emotion-built kiss. He couldn't describe this feeling. It was like happy had taken a drug, and the drug had taken a drug before happy took the drug it took. The two stood in the middle of the room sharing their moment of happiness. They knew they were at work, but everything felt like it was a million miles away. In that moment it felt like it was just them and their child.

From that moment on Ethan knew that he would do everything in his power to keep his child and love of his life safe. He said till death do us part two months prior to this moment, and he intended to carry through on that promise. Because even though he didn't know much outside of the medical world. He knew one thing. That he loves his family and will forever.

[marvelfansince08love]

The Pleasure is all mine  Chapter 2

Word count: 2616 

Pairing: Lou Miller x Fem!Reader, Background Platonic friendship Debbie Ocean x Lou Miller. 

Setting: Three weeks after their initial meeting, they finally meet again but does the reader assume things to quickly...  (of course she does because I wrote it and I’m an over-thinker)

A/N: I am so sorry for the late update, I was going to do it yesterday but I just needed to add a couple of things to it before uploading. Also I skimmed through this... does that count as proof-reading?

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome​ @natasha-danvers​ @5aftermidnight​

P.S: Your comments puts fuel/gas in my car, much appreciated x

I do not own the gif below! ♥

Chapter 2 

Erin is a sweet five year old girl with the cutest blonde curls and crystal blue eyes reminding me of a certain hot knight in shining armour.

"See you around Y/N from Y/H/T"

"Miss Nurse do you have any fish?"

I shake the thoughts of Lou out of my head before focusing on the important question asked by my patient.

"No, but I did have when I was younger. He was a clown fish"

"Just like Nemo!" She squeals excitedly.

I grin softly at the innocent statement.

"Just like Nemo"

"Do you think if I ask mummy real nicely, she will get me Nemo once I'm better" she asked sweetly with a hint of sadness. I frown slightly thinking about the treatment that she's currently going through before quickly masking it behind a sweet smile.

"Well there's no harm in asking hey, my little munchkin?" I stroke my thumb across her cheek softly offering some comfort.

"Miss Nurse do you think I'll get any better?"

I fumble slightly trying to gather my thoughts. This has always been the most difficult part of the job but somehow, I wouldn't change it for the world.

"I sure hope so kid! But just know that me and your parents are going to be right here, with you, all the way" I reassure her before standing up and letting her know that she's due her medication.

 Leaving the room, I sigh gently before rubbing my tired eyes. After working three twelve-hour shifts in a row a girl could use a nap. I straighten myself up again and turn towards the nurse’s station, on my way over I see Erin's parents coming through the door and towards her room. They glance over and offer a polite smile and wave before entering. I turn back towards the nurse's station and see Rachel standing behind the desk going through medical files. She quickly glances my way before returning to her task with a mischievous grin.

"Someone looks like shit today; you want to borrow some of my concealer"

" Ha.Ha. very funny Rach, for that you can go on the next medication round"

She pokes her tongue out playfully before abandoning her task and turning her full attention to me. She places her face in the palms of her hands innocently before asking:

"Wanna come out tonight? Please, pretty please?" With a pout for good measure. I groan before rolling my eyes in displeasure.

"The last time I ended up out with you, I almost fractured my ankle" I complain. She scoffs and waves her hand in dismissal.

"Oh please! you were fine after a week besides you got rescued by some hot blonde, if anything you should be thanking me!" She teases. I roll my eyes in good nature before taking the medical file from her pile and walking away.

"I take that as a yes!" She states loudly, leaning over the desk. I turn my head to face her with a grin.

"Of course" with a quick playful wink before heading off to my next patient. I hear a loud "Yes!" from behind me before walking into the patients room.

................................................................................

The club is hot and dark with lightly dimmed blue lights. My tight black dress already clinging to my body like second skin from the heat. If I squint hard enough I can make out the sea of people dancing within the thick smoke on the dance floor.

"Okay before we hit the bar I need to dance the stress of work out of me" I state before being led by Rachel towards the dance floor in the middle of the room.

My hips sway in time with the beat of the song, warm bodies pressed close all around the busy dance floor. I can feel the floor vibrate beneath my feet. Rachel grabs my hand and twirls me around with Lucas our fellow paediatric nurse cheering us on. After half an hour of dancing I can feel my throat becoming drier indicating the need for a drink.

"You guys wanna get a round in" Rachel shouts to the both of us while gesturing to the packed bar in the middle of the room. We all cheer in agreement before grabbing onto each other and making our way through the crowd to the bar.

She waves over the bartender like greeting an old friend. She smiles charmingly at Rachel while leaning over the bar counter.

"There's my favourite girl! What can I get cha tonight Rach?" She says flirtatiously as she eyes Rachel's outfit. She's also opted for a tight-fitting dress in red. She giggles and places her hand on top of the flirty bartender's.

"Can we get a tray of vodka shots please?" She bats her eyelashes for extra measure. The bartender winks cheekily before turning around and preparing our tray

.

"You are such a flirt Rachel" Lucas says from beside me. I laugh in agreement as she pretends to be outraged by the accusation before grabbing the tray from the bartender and handing us both two each.

I bring the shot to my mouth and let the burning liquid travel down my throat. I splutter slightly from the first shot before downing my next one; this time going down a little easier - almost a little too easy. I grab another one from the tray that's still in Rachel's hand and down my third.

"Is it me or is the vodka a little weak?" I say loudly to the pair. They both chuckle and roll their eyes at me.

"Oh the big mighty Y/N thinks she can handle her drinks better than us Rach" Lucas mocks in good nature. I roll my eyes before giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry the vodka isn't to your likening"

That voice

Oh how I've dreamt of that voice.

I turn around with wide eyes my mouth opening in shock to see her stood with such confidence and beauty.

Lou

She's got the same signature smirk on her face just like that night in the food truck. I quickly close my gaping mouth and throw Lou a shy smile.

"Just point me in the direction of the club manager because there's no way that's just vodka" I awkwardly tease. I hear Rachel gasp next to me and with a quick glance her way she shakes her head as if indicating for me to stop talking, her eyes wide with slight fear and amusement.

"There's no need to take you to her when she's right here, love" she teases with her deep Australian accent. There's that damn smirk again.

Shit!

"Oh my god Lou, I am so sorry I didn't mean it in a bad way. I guess I can just handle stronger vodka" I ramble feeling embarrassed that I've managed to make a fool of myself TWICE in front of this woman.

She walks slowly up to me so we are in closer proximity and leans towards my ear, her breath smells of mint and is warm against my cheek. I close my eyes at the feeling of it – feeling intoxicated by it.

Maybe the vodka is a bit stronger than I thought.

"If you want something stronger all you gotta do is ask my darling" she pulls back and winks while chewing lazily on a piece of gum.

I shake the dirty thoughts out of my head before straightening up and quickly glancing at the two spectators in this flirtatious game. Their eyes moving back and forth between the two of us, Rach clashes her eyes with mine and winks before mouth "go for it". I quickly look back to Lou and notice that she's still staring at me waiting for a response her crystal blues look dark under the dimmed lights.

"Okay"

Her lips twitch in amusement before replying:

"Okay"

I smile wide at the similar exchange from our first meeting.

I turn back towards my friends to see them subtly giving me approval and making whipping noises.

I am so not whipped.

I feel her arm circle around my waist and her mouth close to my ear - barely touching.

"I hope you don't mind but I'd hate to lose you in the crowd after I've just found you again" she says loudly into my ear before escorting me through the crowds, her arm never loosening its hold around me.

As we come to a flight of stairs, I tense and turn towards her in confusion which effectively removes her arm.

"My office is up here and it's quiet, I'd like to talk to you. I know it sounds crazy, but I've not been able to get you out of my head" she looks deep into my eyes with slight insecurity. I smile gently before gently taking hold of her hand and heading for the steps. I look over my shoulder at her and see that her eyes are glued to one place only:

"I hope you weren't looking at my ass, Aussie" I say cheekily with a smirk. She quickly looks away and smirks; as if she's not ashamed of being caught. Just like that the insecurity is gone.

"I wouldn't dream of objectifying you like that darling"

 The cheek of this woman!

 You secretly love it though

 I blush at the nickname as well as my thoughts before hiding it by turning back around and continuing up the stairs.

We finally reach her office space and gestures for me to seat down on a very expensive black plush sofa.

This is place is huge!

Lou moves over to a small bar in the corner of the room and pours two small glasses of vodka. She walks over with confidence and hands me a glass before taking a seat next to me - hip brushing against hip. She leans her forearms onto her thighs and turns to look at me with those crystal blue eyes.

"Thanks for coming up here it gets a bit much downstairs, how are you? How's that ankle of yours?" She asks softly with some concern.

I smile and feel my heart beating faster at our proximity.

"Uh yeah I'm doing okay. I've managed to see more of New York and made a few friends, plus my ankle is a hundred times better now thanks to you" I say with a teasing undertone. I gently bump my shoulder against hers and grin.

She laughs, mouth wide showing her perfect white teeth.

"So I see you run your own little kingdom around these parts huh. First the burger truck and now a nightclub you must be pretty busy" I state jokingly, she shifts uncomfortably before masking her discomfort with a smug smirk.

"I'm a woman of many talents Y/N" I raise an eyebrow in question to her diverting away from the statement. Her shoulders drop before taking a sip of her drink.

"Growing up... I didn't have a lot. My father worked two jobs trying to provide for us, we moved constantly, never staying in the same place longer than six months. I guess it made me more determined to not have that constant worry of where my next meal was coming from or if I had a roof over my head. So eventually I moved to New York starting working a few highly paying jobs and managed to afford this place.... 5 years later I'm running one of the busiest nightclubs in New York" She stares at me with a soft expression.

"Your amazing" I whisper my eyes taking her in, trying to piece this beautiful woman together. Maybe there's a softness to the mysterious confident Lou. She reaches over and takes my hand into hers, her thumb brushing softly against my skin.

"Listen Y/N...

"Hey Lou baby, we need talk about this plan because I've been up all night thinking about and honestly I need a listening ear... oh you have company"

Lou quickly let's go of my hand and stands briskly, her eyes widen as if being caught doing something she shouldn't be doing.

"Debs I uh, this is Y/N you know the woman I helped a few weeks ago" her voice tight and rushed; as if trying to justify my presence. I reel off all the possibilities as to why she's retreating in this woman's presence until a cold realisation dawn's on me as I stare at them both.

She has a girlfriend

A hot girlfriend

Fuck!

I stand quickly and both women turn and look towards me. Lou seems to realise my conclusion and steps forward, mouth opening as if to reel off an explanation. I sidestep out of her reach and look at her crestfallen face.

"I uh, I should go. My friends will be wondering where I am, it was nice meeting you" I stutter as I clumsily make my way to the door. The hot brunette seems to raise an eyebrow, silently questioning my sudden departure.

"Wait Y/N stay please" Lou asks desperately. My eyes widen at her tone of voice and I can see the brunette is also surprised by her desperation.

"I really can't do this. I'm sorry" I whisper before fleeing the room and down back to the club floor. I quickly find my friends through the sea of people. I grab onto Rachel's arm and lean my mouth to her ear:

"I gotta go I'm not feeling well"

She wiggles her eyebrows playfully.

"Oh yeah I bet you are, how was she?"

There's that sick feeling again; or is it the vodka.

"No seriously I'm gonna head home I'm tired and think I'm coming down with something"

She looks at me with a frown noticing the serious tone of my voice.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?"

"No its okay, I'll grab a cab from outside and text you in the morning"

I blow a kiss over to Lucas who seems to be too busy with a tall handsome god of a man and quickly leave. As I get to the door a look up towards the office and see Lou looking down scanning the crowd; for me.

It's like a magnet charging between us because in a second her eyes turn to me. She looks pissed and, on a mission, as she quickly takes to the stairs. I turn around and head out of the door and take a deep breath in the cold New York air before heading for a cab. I feel a hand wrap around my elbow desperately.

"Wait Y/N there's been a misunderstanding somewhere, I thought we were getting along"

"Look Lou, I think you're great but this, whatever it is, needs to stop"

She let's go of my arm and stands still, her eyes boring into mine before scanning every inch of my face.

"If that's what you want, I won't pursue anything but I want to at least be your friend Y/N. I know it sounds crazy even I can't believe it but there is something about you Y/N from Y/H/T and I can't get you out of my head. I shouldn't want this but fuck! I need you around... your presence grounds me" she sighs in defeat looking lost her crystal blue eyes pleading for me to understanding.

"Lou I... can't do this. I will not be that girl who gets involved with someone who's already taken, I'm sorry" I whisper before taking a step back - away from her and fleeing before she can explain further.

Once in the cab I look out of the window to see Lou running her hands through her blonde hair in frustration before storming back inside.

What have I gotten myself into.

[diyunho]

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

***************

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

************

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.  

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

***************

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!” 

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.  

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

****************

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

*************

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster 

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here: 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

The next time they see each other is that night. 

Dean spent the whole day avoiding the monster he welcomed into his house like a fucking pro, if he says so himself. He watched three different 80s action movies (because he needed some familiar blood and gore and explosion to distract from his own need to crush something), and he only left his room to play a few rounds of chess with Eileen while she took a break from research (he only won once after begging her to go easy on him), and now he is back in his room, after making one of the frozen pizzas he found in the fridge just for himself. 

He stuffs another big bite of a 4-cheese slice as the credits roll on the movie he’d paused earlier and just came back to finish now. It was past 10:30 at night. He hears a knock on his door. 

“‘Ome ‘n” he yells around a mouthful of cheese. He almost chokes on it when the door opens to reveal Castiel. He looks like a scared little child, but that’s not what made Dean choke. Castiel is wearing normal clothing. 

Whoa. 

That’s Dean’s flannel. His black, navy, and sky blue colored one that makes up the patterns on the cloth in a way that matches Castiel way better than it does Dean. He’s also wearing jeans, only socks on his feet. 

Dean balks because there’s no way this guy is half-abomination. He’s too cozy. 

“I apologize,” Castiel looks down, folds his hands together in front of him. “I didn’t think you were busy, I can--” 

“No, no I’m not busy--” 

“--come back tomorrow, I’m sorry--” 

“Cas.” 

“Yes, Dean?” 

“Stay.” 

Castiel blinks, shyly looks down and then nods. He closes the door behind him, and just stays there. Dean wipes his hands on a napkin and swings his legs off the bed. 

“What’s up?” 

“I wanted to let you know Sam allowed me to borrow some clothes,” Castiel looks down at himself sheepishly, tugs at the bottom of the flannel he’s wearing. “I will return them after tomorrow.” 

Dean’s nodding so fast his neck cracks a little. “Yeah. That’s—Cas, that’s fine. Wha-what’s tomorrow?” 

At that, Castiel actually smiles. Dean’s never seen this before. Granted, he’s known the guy for less than a day, and has been actively avoiding him, but anyways. Castiel’s smile shows gums and square little teeth. Dean feels his entire chest glow looking at it. 

“That’s the second piece of news I came to tell you. Sam and I have found something. He needs the day to acquire the correct ingredients for it, and we want to try it tomorrow. We think it will work.” It’s impossible, but it’s like his smile is growing even more with every word he says. Dean finds himself smiling too. 

“Man,” Dean clasps his hands together; a quiet clap. “That’s… I mean. That’s something, Cas. You’re-you’ve-how long have you waited for this?” 

Castiel’s smile falters, crooks and falls. He says quietly, “All my life.” 

Then he’s walking forward and sitting at the edge of Dean’s bed. Dean’s hand on the mattress is the only thing that separates them. 

“I need to tell you something else.” 

“A third thing?” 

“Yes,” Castiel looks down at his hand on the bed. He takes a moment while Dean holds his breath. 

Castiel puts one of his hands on top of Dean’s, covering it. Dean glances down, and this close, he can clearly see the scar on the back of Castiel’s hand. All the breath in Dean’s lungs rushes out at once. 

“Dean. After your father saved me, and I decided on what I was to do, I grew up with you. I followed you. I learned from you. I even saved you a few times. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if he’d killed me too, or if he hadn’t killed my father at all, what would have become of me—”

“Cas,” Dean interrupts hoarsely, spinning his hand around to grasp his fingers gently at Castiel’s wrist. “Whatever you think you know about my dad, it’s not true,” he shakes his head. “I’m absolutely sure the only good thing my dad ever did was accidentally let you live.” 

Castiel averts his eyes, frowns. “On some days, I disagree.” 

“Is today one of them?” Dean tilts his head to catch Castiel’s eyesight again. He shivers when blue meets green. 

“No,” Castiel answers softly. “Not today.” 

“Good. Because if there’s one thing you need to learn about being human is that you gotta learn to forgive yourself, man.” 

Castiel’s smile looks sad. “After all these years, I am still learning from you, Dean Winchester.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Castiel hesitates. “With how savagely my father was raising me, to kill and feast on others, on innocents, I kept my humanity in check by watching you live Dean. You taught me to be human.” 

Dean can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. 

As the seconds pass in silence, he can feel them inching closer, like tectonic plates moving after centuries. Their noses brush together and their lips are practically touching. Dean vision is reduced to alluring blue and widening pupils. He’s so afraid of what will happen if they collide. 

Dean tilts his head down, leaning their foreheads together, avoiding the kiss. 

“Cas.” His whisper is broken and defeated. 

“I understand, Dean. If I had never told you, would you—”

Dean interrupts him, pulling his head away and covering it with his hands. “I can’t answer that. I-I don’t know. That was before I knew. Before I knew what you were and how that relates to me. Damn it, Cas. I’m going against everything I stand for, everything I am, for you. And there’s no guarantee.” 

“How is that different than if I was a human you met at a bar?” 

Dean swallows. “It just is,” he argues gruffly. “You’d just be a human. But you’re not, you’re someone who knows too much about me. I don’t know you at all, Cas. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know if I should have killed you already or not.” 

Dean sucks in a breath then, regretting the words immediately. His throat feels thick. When he tentatively looks at Castiel, he sees he is taken aback, mouth agape. 

Castiel blinks. He stands up and makes his way to the door, his steps almost silent. Dean wants to reach out but his arms are frozen and still, and there’s something burning in his veins. 

“I felt for you.” Castiel whispers, hand on the doorknob. 

Dean looks up, meeting his eyes, feeling too much and not at all. He’s numb and exploding inside. He misses Castiel’s hand on top of his. He wants to feel his palm encase his hand again. Dean’s throat clogs up when he realizes, whoever he is, whatever he is, Dean wants Castiel. 

Castiel is staring at him, jaw clenched, and posture too tight. “If I may… ask you for another favor?” 

Dean can’t speak. 

Nonetheless, Castiel continues. “If tomorrow doesn’t yield the best results, I’d like you to make sure I’m gone, Dean. For good.” 

****

Sam is an organization freak. He has a whole corner of the basement scrubbed down and set up for the spell he’s going to try on Castiel. He has bowls (organized by size), and the vials of blood from the day before (organized by size). He also has extra needles (organized by size), some weed looking plants (organized by color), and other instruments for smashing and mixing (say it with me, organized by size). Dean stuff his hands in his jean pockets, fearing being yelled at because he might accidentally touch something he’s not supposed to. 

Dean doesn’t know this stuff. All he knows are his gun, his machete, and his beloved rocket launcher. All he knows is the thrill of the final swing, the force of the punch, the blood on his knuckles, the cuts on his temple, and the last drop of the beer at the end of the night. He’s been a hunter all his life. John used to joke with him that he “fell out of the womb hunting.” Eventually, Dean taught himself to laugh at that. Meanwhile, Sam got to play around with his magic, or whatever. 

Dean couldn’t complain, though. Because of Sam’s dedication and practice and knowledge they had saved many people over the years. People Dean wouldn’t think twice about shooting first and asking questions later. Sam had a talent for it, a knack. And Dean could see he thoroughly enjoyed it too, which was always a plus. You don’t want your younger sibling being unhappy because you dragged him back into something  he tried to run away from. Ultimately, Sam was practically the only family Dean had left. He’d do anything to keep him content. 

Thus why some of their hunting trips weren’t hunting trips at all. They were more like Dean-so-get-this-there’s-this-crystal-from-Colorado-that’s-supposed-to-heal-wounds-with-the-right-spell-could-we-go-find-it road trips. Dean grumbles for show, but he is always happy to be the Designated Driver. 

Looking around the basement, Dean furrows his eyebrows as he spies two notebooks, sitting atop one another on the table. Eileen appears from behind him, and Dean nods at her. 

She follows his eyesight, chuckles and then says, “He filled them with notes last night.” 

Dean can’t hide his surprise. “He had a lot to say, then.” 

Eileen shrugs. “He was trying to get all he learned from Cas somewhere concrete. Just in case.” 

“In case of what?” Dean turns to her, leaning down a bit. 

Eileen sighs, seeming a bit hesitant. “Sam told me the spell is for erasing memories. But he’s going to try and incorporate some additional spells to sort of… erase his monster side?” she scrunches her nose. She ends up mouthing and signing her suggestion,You should ask him, because Sam is in the room with them, meticulously drawing something in his corner. 

Dean frowns, but nods anyways. He doesn’t want to talk to Sam. Not right now, anyways, because Castiel is right there too, right next to him, sitting almost daintily in his dentist chair from the day before. His hands are wound together over his stomach (he’s still wearing Dean’s flannel), and his foot is tapping lightly on the air, like he’s impatient. 

He’s definitely avoiding Dean’s eyes. 

Dean does feel bad about how it went down with them last night. He doesn’t want to admit, not even to himself, really, that he wants to try something with Cas too. The history is too complicated, too filled with gaps, and secrets, and when he really looks at it objectively, it just doesn’t seem worth it. 

But, god. The way Cas looks at him, and the way he feels when he’s around. That’s not something he’s felt for a while now. It goes deeper than the night they were at the bar. That was lust filled, and drink dazed. Now, Dean is aware that Castiel knows him, has been with him all along, since the very first night they met. Dean is aware he doesn’t know this half-man, half-monster who knows him, but he is aware he wants to know. How fucked up is that? He’s pushing it down, deeper into the crevices of his chest, but he wants to know Castiel. He knows he does. 

He needs to make sure he can. Dean is still appalled at Castiel’s request. He is the best hunter in history, he knows his worth in the game, but he doesn’t think he can follow through with what Castiel wants. He just feels it in his bones. Dean can’t kill him. 

When Sam starts the spell, it takes all of Dean’s muscles working to make him keep still; make him wait. 

Sam has drawn a bunch of symbols on various pieces of paper. Perfect circles and diagonal lines and swirls and cross-looking things that come together in loopy images. He sets the pieces of paper down one by one on the table in a specific order to form a circle. Then he picks up the biggest bowl and puts it in the middle of the circle, within the paper circumference. He puts the rest of the smaller old wooden bowls around the bigger bowl, forming its own circle. 

With careful, practiced hands, he picks up the colorful weeds, undoes the string that holds the thin branches of leaves together, and drops them in their rightful smaller bowls, spreading them out. He picks up a sleek wooden smasher and flattens each weed in its own bowl, one by one. Dean holds his breath as he watches Sam do the next step. 

Sam picks up the smaller vials of blood, rips away the seal, and drizzles the contents over each small bowl, on top of the smushed weeds. Eileen probably senses Dean’s stress, because she hooks her hand under his forearm and holds him. He starts breathing again after the gesture. Sam finishes off with dumping the entire largest vial of blood into the main greater center bowl, covering ¼ of it. 

Sam pushes the extra instruments to the side, giving him more room on the table, and then he takes a small match box out of his back pocket. 

He turns to Castiel and looks him directly in the eyes. “It’s ready. Are you sure you want to go through with this?” 

“More than anything,” Castiel assures him, jaw set, chest puffed out. 

Sam sighs and nods. “Right. Okay. If this goes wrong, I suspect the worst that can happen is you losing your memory, which is what the notes we took yesterday are for. Unfortunately, that’ll be irreversible, but you’ll still be… you.” 

Castiel’s eyes flash to Dean’s for a second. “It’s worth a try. I have contingency plans, Sam. Do it, please.” 

Sam’s lips turn downwards in a frown, but he still nods. He wraps Castiel’s wrist with leather, tying him to the chair. Dean can see the stark contrast between the almost white scar on the back of his hand, and the dark brown leather. 

Sam steps away and fishes out a single match. He’s poised over the table where the spell is set up. He rolls his shoulders back, stands up straighter, closes his eyes and tilts his head up, mentally preparing himself. 

Dean admires how he’s in his element, and then Castiel speaks: “At any rate, I wanted to apologize for my inappropriate behavior during your lives, and to say that I am glad I met you all. Thank you for helping me, truly.” He’s looking at Dean as he finishes, and all Dean can do is swallow his feelings down. He’s fearing for Cas. For himself, too. 

“We’ll see you on the other side, Cas,” Sam grins, then strikes the match. Dean’s worldview is reduced to that flame. 

Sam starts quietly chanting, “Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

The papers start glowing immediately. As in, the drawings themselves start to shine a muted orange color, growing in reach upwards as Sam continues chanting, “Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

When the light is shining about at Sam’s chest, he drops the lit match in the center bowl. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

Castiel’s blood ignites in the bowl, red-orange. The temperature in the basement escalates. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

The center bowl is aflame. It catches onto the smaller bowls that surround it. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

Each small bowl lights up with the color of the weeds Sam smushed earlier. There’s a red, a green, a yellow, a blue, a purple, a white, and a black fire surrounding the main orange flame. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

The lights of the illuminated drawings start to move, curve to the center, closer to the main bowl. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

They connect to the orange fire in the middle, making a sort of cone shape; pointy end at the top. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

The colors start to darken, looking more pronounced. They are trapped inside the confines of the orange cone. Dean takes Eileen’s hand in his. 

“Dedisco. Dono. Dissulto.” 

It’s then that Castiel sucks in a gasping wheezing breath. His veins, visible on his head and neck and hands light up in orange hues from under his skin. He pinches his eyes shut and throws his head back, groaning. Dean wants to run to him, but Eileen keeps him grounded by squeezing his hand. 

“Dedisco! Dono! Dissulto!” Sam yells, then drives his palm straight down into the pointy end of the cone, like he’s stabbing his hand with it. It shatters the structure completely. 

Castiel gives out a last cry, his skin glows brighter than ever, and then he’s falling limp in the chair. The flames are doused out at the table, like Sam threw water at them. 

The room is cold again, and when Dean finally takes his eyes off Castiel, he sees Sam is smiling like he just heard the ice cream truck pass by. 

**** 

Castiel wakes up almost a week later. Of course, it’s exactly within the hour that Dean leaves his bedside to go make some mid-afternoon pancakes for himself. 

He’s in the kitchen, dripping a shit-ton of syrup on top of the large thick stack (he likes them fluffy) when he sees Eileen run in from the hallway. 

She signs, He’s awake. 

Dean is too tired to understand for a few seconds, and then she signs it again and points behind her, smiling. The lightbulb goes off in Dean’s head and then he’s running with the plate of pancakes and the syrup bottle still in his hands, giving Eileen a kiss on the cheek as he passes her. He hears her giggle. 

When Dean bursts into his room (he insisted they put Castiel in his room), he sees Sam standing next to the bed, hands on his hips, frowning down at Castiel who is sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed, head hung low and tucked in his chest. 

Dean doesn’t know what the fuck is happening, but he knows it shouldn’t be. He goes into Mom Mode. 

“Cas! Welcome back to the world of the living!” He sets the plate of pancakes and the syrup bottle on his desk, and then walks over to crouch in front of Castiel’s legs. Dean tries to catch his eyes, “Hey, man. What are you doing sitting up? Sam told me this spell should have killed you, take a breather, rest for a bit more. You deserve it, dude.” 

Sam shuffles next to him, silent, but Dean is not paying attention to him. When Castiel finally looks up, he squints and tilts his head at Dean. Dean beams. It’s so familiar, and he didn’t know he missed it so much. He’s smiling so hard it hurts. 

Then Castiel says, “Who are you?”

Dean’s stomach drops like an anvil. His head floats for a second, and when it attaches back, all he can think of is how he’s lost Castiel. Fuck, he’s lost him. Forever. 

Dean is feeling the burn in the back of his eyes, and he thinks he’s going to cry, but then he hears Sam from above him. Dean stands up and turns to his brother, who has one hand covering his mouth, and he’s… snickering. He is. Sam is laughing! 

Dean whips his head to Castiel, who’s switched his confused squint to a warm gummy smile. He’s chuckling. His eyes are bright and blue and shining. They recognize him. Dean breathes again. 

“Fuckin’ assholes!” Dean turns to punch Sam in the arm lightly, crossing his own with an angry huff. “I can’t believe you pulled that with me!” 

Sam is still chuckling, dimples showing. “I’m sorry, dude! It was too good not to.” 

“It was purely Sam’s idea,” Castiel defends himself. 

Dean puts his whole body behind his eye roll. “Don’t go having anymore of those, Samuel. They suck.” 

Sam claps him on the shoulder, and Dean irritably shrugs him off, making his brother smile even wider. “It’s Sam, and you love me anyways.” He turns to look down at Castiel. “Well, Cas--can I call you Cas?” 

Castiel nods, grinning. “Of course, Sam.” 

Sam is an excited puppy. “Welcome to humanity, Cas! We’re lucky to have you.” He saunters out of the room, still smirking to himself, leaving Dean with a wink. 

After Sam closes the door behind him, Dean sits down in the chair right next to his bed, the one he’d been occupying for the last week, watching Cas sleep, like he was perching over his shoulder. He’s right in front of Castiel, still sitting on his bed, hands clasped around his kneecaps. 

“So, it really worked? Sam cleared you? You-you’re…” Dean can’t finish the thought. His brain is racing. 

Castiel looks proud, maybe a little emotional. “I am. I am human now.” 

They meet eyes, and the world is suspended again. Castiel looks soft, and a little tired, but strangely, he looks the same. Dean knows he won’t be able to lift heavy things, knows he won’t crave humans anymore, but he also knows Castiel is still going to make tea and gently hand him the warm mug. He knows Castiel will still tug on the hem of his clothes, and he’s probably still going to wear that trenchcoat. Something in Dean’s heart breaks as he realizes Castiel is the same, apart from the blood running in his veins. Dean feels a little ashamed. 

Castiel breaks the stare, and clears his throat. “Thank you for helping me, Dean. You’ve saved my life, but I won’t say I am forever in your debt, because I now realize that it’s the same toxic sentiment that has dictated my life for the last 15 years. I won’t bother you anymore, but I offer my services, if you ever come to need them.” 

“Cas--” 

Castiel holds him in a serious stare. “I’ll go, Dean. As promised.” 

Dean grabs Castiel’s hand, the one with the scar, when Castiel stands up to leave. He forces himself to say, “I don’t want you to.” 

Castiel furrows his eyebrows, and after a moment, he sits down on the bed again. He lets Dean hold his hand. 

“I was wrong. Cas, I was so wrong.” 

“In what way?” 

Dean swallows. “We’re all monsters.” 

Castiel huffs. “Dean--” 

“We are,” Dean doesn’t let him speak, he needs to get it out before he gets too scared. “You may have literally been one your whole life, but you fought against it. You forced yourself to be better, and you were of service to people. You fuckin’... gave up your life to watch me! To protect me, and Sam! But you don’t actually know us. Especially me. I’m not who you’ve been seeing from a distance. I’m not who my father made you think I am.” 

Castiel nods, pursing his lips, eyes turning down at the corners. “Of course not, Dean.” 

Dean takes a shuddering breath. “I’ve done things in the past because I wanted to be violent. That’s all. They might have been monsters but I just wanted to be violent, and I shouldn’t be thought of as a hero because of that. In my own way, I’m just as much of a monster as you. Maybe I’m worse. I gave into it,” he mumbles.  

 Castiel squeezes his hand. “You were never a monster to me. And you were never a perfect hero. And you were never what your father made you seem. You are just a man, Dean. Just a human. That’s what I admired about you. That’s what I wanted to be. Imperfect, but pure of heart. And now, thanks to you, I am,” he smiles. 

“Cas, I’m sorry. I really am.” Dean doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, but he thinks Cas understands. He always seems to. 

“I know, Dean. I am sorry as well. I should have contacted you sooner. I’ve lived in the shadows for too long. I almost forgot my human side.” 

Dean grins. “Now you don’t even have a human side. You’re all human.” 

“I am.” 

“Maybe you always were, Cas. Thanks for not killing me 15 years ago.”

Castiel chuckles. “Anytime.” 

“So, what now?” 

“Now… I guess I make something of myself,” Castiel sighs. 

Dean smiles, feeling once again like he’s on leveled ground with Castiel. Feeling like they’re leaning against a wall at the bar again. Feeling like the moment Castiel hesitated to kill him. Feeling hopeful. 

“Well, you can’t do that on an empty stomach.” Dean lets go of Castiel’s hand, stands up and goes over to the plate of pancakes and syrup. He brings it back and puts the plate on Castiel’s lap. “You must be starving. Here, I made pancakes, I hope you like syrup,” he says sheepishly. 

“I don’t know if I do,” Castiel says slowly, shyly. Dean realizes what he said and almost facepalms, feeling his ears burn with embarrassment. 

“Right. Right. Sorry, yeah, duh—um. Why don’t you-uh. Just try it.” 

Castiel cuts a small piece, soaked in syrup, and pops it in his mouth. Dean bites his lower lip, watching as he chews, and he’s wondering if he put too much butter or flour and that’s why Cas doesn’t like it, but then Castiel’s face lights up. He blinks at Dean, reaches over and takes the syrup from his hand, and dumps more on top of the pancakes. 

Castiel looks into Dean’s soul when he says, “I love it.”

[imtryingthisout]

Of Flames and Fire: Prologue

[If you hate me for writing this, just remember I hate myself more and that this began because of a joke.]

Warnings: Ask to Tag

Word Count: 3627

Fandom: Disney Descendants

*************************************************

Dirt clung to the fringes of Maleficent’s robes as she descended deeper into the cavernous warren. Once upon a time her presence would have struck such fear that not even the dust mites would have dared come near her, but such a time was over now, and now the endings of her black cloak grew more and more soiled with every step she took.

She held a twisted candelabra in one hand and her faithful staff in the other. The small flame burned a deep rouge color, more red than yellow, with how thick and low the air had become. Maleficent was surprised it still burned at all. She was thankful for the candle’s valiant effort. Gone were the days where she could summon a ball of hellfire to illuminate the room, and with all the dust and filth in the air she wasn't sure her darkvision would be of any use.

A drop of hot wax struck her fingers.

Maleficent continued onwards.

As she ventured closer and closer to her destination, the sound of barking began to ring in her ears. Viscous growls, the sound of teeth hitting teeth, shrieks and yelps and oh so much barking. Were she a lesser soul it might have frightened her, or at the very least given her a pause, but she knew that no dog (three headed or otherwise) lived down here, just a lonely master trying to cope with the sound of silence.

(Out of everything her new prison tormented her with, Maleficent never thought she would grow to loathe the quiet. The silence. Even on the Forbidden Mountain she would hear the rustling of wind, the roaring cacophony of her minion’s delight, the sound of Diablo’s deep cawing. But here, even with the tumult of the budding city of thieves and villains, her thoughts screamed louder than any noise. Here she felt more alone than she ever did atop her ruined castle.)

No door was mounted to the cave’s wall, it would be far too impractical to do so, so Maleficent raised a curved fist and knocked thrice on a wooden post instead. “Who is it?” a voice called out from lower in the room, it sounded irritated and gruff, good. Maleficent smiled “Just a passing visitor Lord Hades”.

Quicker than she thought possible, the exiled Monarch of the Underworld stood leaning against the doorframe, one arm draped over the rotten wood and his head tilted with a school boy smile (if a school boy had eyes of glowing brimstone and thorny rows of sharp teeth protruding from his gums). “Why Miss Maleficent, what brings you to my little.. home away from home?”

She took a moment to drink in his sight, he looked more or less the same as he did when they first met, a little more tired, maybe, a little less put together, thick silver-colored cuffs bound round his wrists to drain his godly might. Still something about him seemed different, she couldn't quite place her finger on it, then she met his gaze. “Kohl around the eyes, Lord Hades? I do hope you aren't going Egyptain on me”

He snorted and rolled his- yes, black lined- eyes “Nah those guys are great, but they sure as Me don’t need another Death God. Besides- Blue Hair? Blue Skin? It’s already confusing enough for mortals to get us mixed up at parties, and don't even get me started on the Ptolemaic Pantheon menagerie, cultural syncretism is fun and all but all that rewriting and re-rewriting and who’s who even got my head more turned around than the gordian knot!”

Here Hades stood taller than Maleficent, even with his slumped posture and hunched back. The slope of the floor was curved in his favor. Her horns were a brandished crown growing, twisting, above her head and barely scraping the stone above her.

She let the humor linger in the air for a breath before speaking. “I have a proposition for you, my lord” she said while dismissing the candle and setting it down on a rock ledge. The light from Hades’ hair and lair would suffice to brighten her vision. Maleficent raised a free arm “Shall we continue our conversation inside? I feel it would be awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” Hades’ smile grew wider, almost splitting his face in two.

“My dearest disgrace to all things dignified, it would be my pleasure” He said, taking her arm and leading her inside. Despite herself she snorted. “My lord I am always dignified, it is deferential which I am not”

Hades’s new domain lay deep underground in the heart of the Isle. Despite his many years of hatred of being saddled with the burden of the Underworld, the room appeared very similar to his old home. ‘Perhaps that is the point’, Maleficent thought, wondering if his new dwelling was really of Hades’ choosing, or did he simply wake up on the Isle in a room modeled after his old kingdom, swapping an old prison for a new one. She wasn’t sure if Zeus had it in him...but Zeus wasn't the only one hurt by Hades’ failed machinations, and she knew that Hera certainitly did, fondness for her older brother or not- the Queen of Gods would not have hesitated to rub salt in any wounds of her child’s stealer. Especially when such irony would have been involved.

In another life, perhaps it would have been Hera who Maleficent would be conversing with, she did always have a healthy respect for the Golden Throned Goddess,like draws to like afterall, and there is nothing more similar yet individual than women with power.

Then again, in another life she wouldn't need to bargain, in another life she would have crushed Prince Phillip’s sword between her teeth and swallowed him whole, in another life she would have blessed the infant Princess with a gift of her own, something clever and far more powerful than any of the Three Sisters trivial delights. In another life---

Hades leads her to a sitting area, long tatham benches set interlocking with one another, made of dark ebony wood. Maleficent gathers the excess of her robe in her grip and takes a seat, then slowly lets the fabric flow down and unfurl on the clean gray floor. The Lord of the Dead seats himself next to her, and after a moment’s pause, she allows him to wrap one of his hands around her waist.

“I have come to reclaim my debt, Your Majesty” she begins, he laughs and jokes “I’m not a accountant dollface, you’ll have to be more specific. I think I still got some styx-water sloshing around in my skull” but she can see the tightness around his eyes, the stiffness in his fingers as he cleans his ear and flicks a droplet of water over his shoulder, he knows exactly what she is referring to. He also knows that his newfound lack of power might have put him in a very precarious situation. Maleficent smiles sharply.

The grip on her waist tightens.

“Then let me help to restart your memory, years ago you needed an elixir that would turn anything, even a God, mortal. I concocted such a potion on the clause that you would… how did you say it? ‘Owe me one bigtime mama '’” she said drolling her words and making air quotations with her slender fingers. The God of The Dead had the decency to look sheepish, a bright blue blush blooming under his siltstone skin. “Okay yeah might’ve been a bit drunk on success when I said that…”

“Mmhmm” Maleficent hummed, raising a single eyebrow.

“....sorry”

“In any case, a deal is a deal, and now I see to collect my end of our bargain”

“It would be my pleasure my lovely lady of labilzation--” “that one was better” “Thank you I do try, --- however I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that, unlike before, I no longer have the Underworld and all its resources at my disposal to grant your dark heart’s deepest desire-- “Lord Hades are you implying I ever had a heart to begin with?” “ Ha ha no. But you do have desires that our current predicament might limit me from fulfilling”

“And you do hate to leave your women unfulfilled, don’t you Hades?”

“Yes I- HEY” Hades began with his usual smooth inflection, not even really looking at her, before cutting himself on and standing up in outrage. Face pinched and flushed. He started pacing back and forth in front of her while Maleficent looked on in cruel delight. He was yammering about something, going on about respect and proper dues and getting wonderfully worked up about himself. It almost made her nostalgic.

“I mean I know I’m no roving casanova like dear little Zeus-y, Persphone would gut me for even trying that and--”

Then his body stilled and he turned to face her, running his hands through his hair to gather his thoughts. Pity, she was enjoying she show. “Alright I get it, playtimes over. What do you want Maleficent? What under this damned barrier could be so important that you need to cash in on?”

“You and I both know Lord Hades that there are forces far older and far more powerful than this Godmother’s little trick. Deals, oaths, dept, magic sworn by magic will be repaid in turn. ” Maleficent raised herself slowly, taking small measured steps to where Hades stood shadowed by the cavern’s light. “As for what I want? That's simple, I want your name”

Name, she hissed out the word, the word that had churned and boiled somewhere deeper than her stomach and rose up her throat, that fell down her tongue and turned sharp and low against her teeth. The word that made her eyes flash with a power that no well intentioned Godmother or once cursed King could contain.

The word that made the Lord of the Dead, Hades himself, fall stumbling backwards to his knees. The shadow wrenched away from him in haste, revealing his wide eyes and- oh how she missed this- positively wreaked expression. If she was someone else she would say he was nervous, his face too numb to be fearful, but Maleficent knew better. He was terrified.

Pleas spilt from his lips like ambrosia in a clumsy hand. He was almost begging her now, with more fervor than he ever begged before--

( In times of old when the earth was freshly taken and the sky still red with titan’s blood, three brothers gathered to divide the cosmos between themselves. The youngest made his claim to the sky and took it’s child, the mighty thunderbolt, as his symbol. He gifted the sea to the middle brother who accepted it glady, but to the oldest he gave no pearl-rich land or magnificent heaven, but the burden of the damned and dead. The darkest corners of the world, where no light reached and the wild souls wandered aimlessly in the eternal darkness. His older brother objected, of course, and perhaps he even set aside his pride to grovel, but the youngest was unyielding. )

“Please Mali, don’t, not that I’ll do anything--”

( Once Ra fell sick from a clay snake bite, and called a council of every man and women and God to come and aid him, but they could do nothing. Then he called for Isis, for surely she would have the answers to his prayers. “What ever you need, I will provide” And so Isis said to the sun god Ra, ‘Great king of The Heavens and all we hold dear, the venom in your blood is much too strong, the only way I can heal you is with the knowledge of your Name’. So Ra listed off all of his titles and epithets, of which he had many, but Isis was not deterred. ‘My Lord and King, though those names are as grand and great as you are, they are not the one of which I refer to. If you wish to continue as yourself, ruler of the Gods, I will need your Rem to cure you’ said Isis and Ra knew she spoke the truth. Banishing the other medicine men and healers from the room he took Isis into his wings and bared to her the fifth of his soul, the name in which all his power sprang from. Isis took the name and healed Ra, feeling the universe realign with her at its helm, Goddess above Gods, of life and moon and medicine and magic. The fruits of her cunning rewarded hundredfold. And she smiled.)

“-- you don't want that old thing, I mean, what would you even do with my name anyway? It’s not like it would be of any use to you here”

“That, Your Majesty, is where you are wrong.” Maleficent slammed the end of her staff on top of the end of Hades’ robe, catching him in place as he tried to flinch backwards. She knelt before him, his back arched so completely he resembled more of a semicircle than a fallen God, his body so small here compared to hers. The long tendrils of her cloak sprawled themselves across the floor, their edges slithering like snakes, writhing and engulfing them, Hades was a cold star trapped amidst a sea of dark fabric.

“You asked me what could be so important to me that I would risk claiming my due of our agreement here, under this hell forsaken barrier. Why would I step into the limelight after years of isolation to rule an island of filth and trash” she pressed a single nail to his face tilting it up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Because here is where my child will be born, and no blood of mine will be powerless while I still live to conquer and provide”

Her child, who was barely an weight in her arms, hungry for magic where there was none, hungry for food unrotten and drink unspoiled. If Maleficent was kinder she would crush it’s skull beneath her feet and spare it from a life full of pain and longing. Years of torment and clawing at it’s own skin spared in a moment’s decision.

(Her child, who could one day release their Mother from her prison, if they had will to do so.)

Maleficent had never been a kind person.

She did, however, on the seldom occlusion, know mercy and how to manipulate the unwilling. She could just rip his name from his chest, leave him broken and shivering on the cold stone floor. The thought was tempting, it really had been too long since she last had the chance to destroy someone so thoroughly, but she knew it would be better in the long run if she could get Hades to cooperate. Never let it be said she wasn’t a patient Mistress.

Leaning her weight forward she gingerly took one of Hades’ wrists in her hand, turning it over and carefully inspecting the thick band that now encircled it . This close she could feel the way it softly vibrated under her touch, the binding sigils carved so delicately and deep into the metal.

Her skin burned on contact, but you would never tell by her expression, eyes trained on the way Hades’ life force flowed. Faint traces of his magic traveling down his veins and funneling into the band, which would pulse slightly and constrict, the sigils would glow and hold, before loosening its too tight grip on its host. Then the cycle would continue anew.

It was one of the most brilliantly constructed and horrid devices Maleficent had ever laid her eyes on.

It was a work of art.

And as she read the runes she began to recognize what artist could have made such a beautiful thing.

“Do you know just how luck you are Lord Hades? While the rest of us villains must serve a penance that will span the rest of our days, you sit here with shackles holding only until you meet their requirements. I always wondered why Auradon would risk the order of the world just to fulfill their pallid sense of morality, and here my questions are answered. It seems the true nature of your punishment is far more poetic than a measly imprisonment, no, the true keys to your freedom lay in siring a child,”

A cold sense of realization dawned on Hades, “Hera” he whispered.

“How does the saying go again? An eye for an eye.” Maleficent pushed her nail deeper into the skin of his arm “A lost babe for a lost babe.”

Something inside Hades’ eyes broke at her words, and he begun laughing, freely, manic not maniacal, the laugh of a man who knew the entire cosmos was a joke and now he finally got the punchline. “Oh Hera!” He cried out, gathering the shattered pieces of himself and pulling them together.

He stood up from underneath her, fluid as smoke escaping from her grasp, as if his body was still atmos and ichor- not confined to rigid flesh and blood. ( A distant part of Maleficent imagines Hades, stumbling and impaling his head against a stalagmite as he has to relearn how to walk again, learn how to live in a body so forign yet familiar.) He did not offer to help her, and she made no move to rise, instead she remained sitting, her back ramrod straight and hands folded across her staff which rested on her lap.

Over the sounds of running water and the everpresent barking, Maleficent could hear the sounds of his brain work. Spinning gears within gears furiously trying to take in the new information and generate a more beneficial outcome for himself. “Alright, you want my name, you want power, you want little Maleficent Junior to grow up with magic, which I can’t blame you for. I want to get out of here and I want my wife not to kill me on my arrival, so I propose a solution that just might work for us both”

“Go on”

“ gift part of my name to the little tyke, giving them- and by extension you- power that not even this blasted barrier can suppress. That means that in the eyes of magic, I’m basically your baby’s daddy”

“And are you willing to uphold that responsibility? I have no need for a husband nor a housekeeper, but both dragons and fae are known for their possessiveness and of them I am both”

Hades didn't miss a blink, shark toothed smiled fixed back in place on his face “My magnificent Mistress of Misery from now until my chains are unfettered and I am called away to return to my Iron throne, I do swear to treat your little demonspawn as if they were born from the rotten fruit of my loins. Now, do we have an agreement?” Now he looked down at her, hand extended for her to shake. “Going once… going twice..”

Maleficent leapt forward, her hand digging deep into the weak flesh of his arm, she used to movementum to pull herself close to him, nose to nose, sharpened teeth to sharpened teeth, her horns haloing her head- two blackened crests protruding from her skull that reflected the dull blue light of the room. “Its a deal” she declared. Smiling viscously as she felt her eyes flare, not gold, but green, green as burning hellflame, fire in its purest form.

If this were anywhere else but The Isle of The Lost, thunder would crack at their declaration, a ring of light would maifest around their grip sealing their oath in color and magic. The air would ignite at their words. However, this was The Isle, and so the only illumination of fate’s rearrangement came from the flicker of light on Hades’ wrists as the runes surged, the taste of copper under Maleficent’s tongue, and the deep bone-seated feeling that something big will come. This was the stone whose ripple will cause the wave years down the line.

Maleficent hoped it would rise and drown the whole world.

She almost smiled at the thought.

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

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

“Huh”

“What?”

“You know when you said you had a baby, I kinda pictured- you know- a baby”

“I do hope you aren't talking bad about our child, it hasn't even hatched yet”

“Maleficent thats not a child, thats an egg”

“You think I would birth a infant mammal? Don’t be so crude, egg laying is a much more civilized method of reproduction”

“Wait does that make you a reptile? Oh sweet Zeus don’t tell me you are? What can you unhinge your jaw? Do you have a hemi--”

“Silence your tongue Lord Hades before I cut it out myself”

“Sorry sweetcheeks I couldn't resist”

“....”

“...sorry”

“Now traditionally Mother and Daughter would pass on a portion of their name until the time came where the Daughter earned to full title of Maleficent, usually by slaying their Mother and taking her name for herself. Until that day a middle name would serve as a placeholder to help differentiate them, a Mal Bertha or Mal Lamia or something of the sort. If you are giving up one of your titles, perhaps Mal Aidoneus would suffice?”

“Yeah, no”

“No?”

“Listen, Fairy G’s little parasite pocket is going to hone in on quote the name of the “The Mistress of All Evil” like a cyclopes at a half-off everything sunglass sale. You want this kid to have even a smidgen of a chance we gotta change it up a bit.”

“Well then Your Majesty I don’t suppose you have any better Ideas”

“........Malenthea”

“Hm?”

“Her name, it will be Malenthea”

“Then so mote it be”

“....”

“....”

“HOLY RHEA YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE EGG WOULD EXPLODE--”

[corpsentry]

LAUNCHING MERRILY DOWN THE PATH OF SIN AGAIN

ao3 mirror pairing: atsumu/hinata rating: teens featuring: post-timeskip, side bokuaka, black jackals dynamics, sakusa suffering, author’s weird oral fixation

Hell yeah. Miya Atsumu is in love.

“Shit. I think I cut my gum.”

They’re having dinner together for some reason. Bokuto probably roped them all into it to stave off his boredom, but he offered to pay, so Sakusa went along with it, and because Sakusa went along with it, Hinata went along with it, and because Hinata went along with it, Atsumu went along with it. He suspects Hinata would’ve said yes from the start, but Sakusa started lecturing them on the perils of Korean BBQ restaurants, so Bokuto staved him off too with the cash thing. Sakusa is a practical person. Sometimes.

Anyway, Hinata winces as he says shit I think I cut my gum. Then he smiles like he’s really happy about it and Bokuto’s eyes go all round like volleyballs and he slams his hands on the table. Sakusa tells him not to put his hands on the table. Bokuto ignores him.

“Are you okay?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah,” Hinata says, making a weird face while he feels around in his mouth with his tongue.

Atsumu tries to think of something intelligent to say and draws a blank. “Let me see,” he says instead. He’s sitting next to Hinata because Sakusa doesn’t trust Bokuto to share a grill with him. Bokuto is sitting next to Sakusa because he can’t share a grill with him but he wants to either try to get to know him better or piss him off. If nothing else he’s definitely succeeded at the latter.

“Huh?” Sakusa stares at Atsumu like he thinks he’s stupid, which he probably is. “The fuck are you trying to see?”

“The, uh,” Atsumu begins, but Hinata opens his mouth for him for some reason and he forgets to finish his sentence.

“I can taste blood on the right side of my mouth,” he offers.

“Uh,” Atsumu says again.

Bokuto stands up and leans over the table because Bokuto is immortal and will not be wounded by the likes of a Korean BBQ grill. “Do you need a flashlight? My phone has a flashlight.”

“Who the fuck doesn’t have a flashlight on their phone,” Sakusa says, staring at Bokuto like he thinks he’s stupid.

“Me,” Hinata offers. Hinata is using an iPhone model from the Stone Age.

“Stop talking and let me look at your gums,” Atsumu says, looking at his teeth. He has made a discovery: Hinata has very nice teeth. This aligns nicely with the other nice things he has noticed about Hinata’s face, like his eyebrows and the softness of his mouth. Hell yeah. Atsumu is in love.

“You’ve been looking at his gums for over a minute, Atsumu. Have you found anything.” Sakusa.

“Yeah,” Atsumu confirms. “There’s a cut.”

“Shit, where?”

“There.”

“Can you show me?”

“Oh, no.” Sakusa pushes his chair away from the table. “Atsumu. Don’t do it.”

Atsumu is really fucking confused. “What am I supposed to not do?” He’s still thinking about Hinata’s face. You have to get really close to someone to look inside their mouth. Close enough to kiss them. Is this what intimacy looks like?

“Are you gonna put your fingers in his mouth?” Bokuto, in a moment of clairvoyance, has caught onto the source of Sakusa’s terror. He sounds proud of himself.

“Are you?” Hinata looks at him innocently.

Atsumu puts his fingers in his mouth.

    ::

    Sakusa Kiyoomi followed Inarizaki’s match against Karasuno in his second year of high school from a livestream on his phone because he wanted to minimize contact with the crowds in the gymnasium as much as possible. The match being an Inarizaki match, had attracted an especially large and diverse crowd of spectators. Nonetheless, they were united by the fact that they were all screaming. At first they were screaming because the Miya brothers were winning. Later they were screaming because the Miya brothers were losing. Then they finished losing, and Kiyoomi scoffed at them behind his mask while he wondered how Miya Atsumu was taking the fact that he had blown his first match at the Spring High.

Later he would recall the way Atsumu had looked at Karasuno’s orange-headed number ten. Kiyoomi, being the calm and logical person he is, would detect the complex twist of fascination and admiration that lay behind the twins’ duplicate of the freak quick. He might even begin to form a coherent thought about Atsumu’s motivation for executing such a shaky attack. This would involve a careful perusal of the few years of friendship between them and an evaluation of Atsumu’s taste in sports, men, and sportsmen. Then someone would cough in his direction from thirteen meters away, and he would get so mad at them he would forget all about it until he met the two of them again as teammates in the MSBY Black Jackals and Atsumu put his fingers in Hinata’s mouth.

    ::

    “Dude you have to tell me why you did that,” Bokuto says. He’s leaning on Atsumu’s shoulder because he’s drunk and it’s a Friday. Bokuto only drinks on Fridays. This is a fact of life. If he could have it his way he would apparently drink on several days but Akaashi the shounen manga editor vows to wipe out seven generations of his family if he does. Therefore he abstains.

Atsumu wishes he would abstain from leaning on his shoulder. “I do?” he wonders aloud. He is drunk as well. Luckily Bokuto is more drunk so Bokuto cannot admonish him. Atsumu holds all the power in this situation.

“Yeah dude you were blushing like crazy.” Drunk Bokuto doesn’t use punctuation. It does not register on his list of things that exist in the universe. One time Atsumu made a bad life decision and crashed at his apartment; that night he overheard Bokuto talking to Akaashi the shounen manga editor on the phone, sounding like a bullet train with a caffeine addiction. Every once in a while Bokuto would fall silent. Then he would make an abrupt sound like a deflating balloon, presumably interrupting whatever Akaashi was saying, and there would be no more silence to be had for the next thirteen minutes. Atsumu felt very sorry for himself all night. He also felt very sorry for Akaashi, but less so since he had chosen to saddle himself permanently with Bokuto unlike the rest of them.

“Dude.” Drunk Bokuto says dude a lot.

“No,” Atsumu says.

They have almost reached the train station. Atsumu can see it blinking in the distance with its glowing signs and other artificial shit and he is so fucking glad for it. He manhandles Bokuto into the station and props him up against a pillar once they reach the platform. Bokuto’s coat is slipping off his shoulders. Atsumu pulls it back up.

“Do you think he was weirded out?” he asks later on the train. The soju he chugged after sticking his fingers in Hinata’s mouth is wearing off and primal fear is starting to set in. Suddenly he finds himself deeply regretting everything he has done since Hinata joined the Black Jackals. Spending so much time practicing that quick attack with him was a mistake. Buying him chocolate as a joke for Valentine’s Day was a mistake. Walking back to the train station alone with him after spending too much time practicing that quick attack, watching the way Hinata had laughed at his dumb jokes as they moved through the neon blur of the city was a mistake. Now he's in love and Sakusa's going to make fun of him. Sakusa has alien-like sensors installed in the back of his head which allow him to notice everything important in life before Atsumu does. Ah, Atsumu’s drowning in regret. He’s going to die.

“Nope,” Bokuto says cheerfully. “Hinata’s a good guy.”

Atsumu broods. “Good guys can be weirded out too, y’know.”

“Nah. He likes you.”

“What are you, psychic?”

“Hell yeah I’m psychic.”

    ::

    Bokuto is not psychic. He’s just a fundamentally nice human being who gets an endorphin kick out of supporting every single person who comes within a hundred-meter-radius of him. Okay, Atsumu wants to say. Okay, so you want to support your teammates and your friends and shit. That’s great. But what if two of those teammates are At Odds with each other. What if you have to pick one.

Atsumu and Hinata are At Odds with each other. On the bright side, they’re both old enough to draw the line between work shit and personal shit so it doesn’t spill over into their professional lives. They are alarmingly civil during practice. The Black Jackals continue to get their ass handed to them by the Adlers. On the dark side, Hinata won’t so much as breathe in his direction off the court, which is pretty fucking miserable.

The best part is Atsumu doesn’t even realize he’s being ignored until Sakusa points it out to him. He’s spent the last week in denial and is actually growing kind of comfortable with this new lifestyle. He doesn’t have to deal with the fact that he has feelings for the guy who pissed him off in his second year of high school; he also doesn’t have to deal with the fact that he stuck his fingers in his mouth last Friday. Maybe Atsumu should just end his friendship with Hinata Shouyou. They can start over as business partners. Make a joint venture.

But of course, Sakusa points it out to him. “I know you think you’re being really fucking slick by ignoring Hinata all the time, but I must sadly inform you that he’s actually ignoring you as well,” he says, examining his nails absently. “Plus I think he’s trying harder at it.”

Sakusa smells like eighty-five different brands of shampoo. “I hate you,” Atsumu says.

“Your hatred means nothing to me,” Sakusa replies, unfazed.

    ::

    The first time he and Hinata played together in an official match, Atsumu remembers thinking that he was glad he let Osamu set up his onigiri shop and pushed ahead with volleyball alone after all.

He figures he’ll always be a little bitter about how his high school volleyball career ended. It’s like how he still hates the everloving shit out of spicy food but has developed a tolerance for it due to his teammates’ dietary preferences. The sensation will never be pleasant, but he gets through it. He drinks a shit ton of water. After their meal he treats himself to dessert from a nearby convenience store and makes someone else pay for it out of spite. Sometimes they agree. Other times he winds up paying for his souffle cheesecake himself. But fuck it, whatever, it’s sweet.

The first time he and Hinata played together in an official match they unleashed their new freak quick in front of Kageyama Tobio and like half of Japan’s previous high school volleyball circuit. At the moment in which the ball he set went up in the air and Hinata made contact with it, Atsumu had the distinct sensation that the rules of the world had been quietly rewritten. It was akin to having a fully-grown deer ram its antlers into your chest, shattering your ribcage instantly. He couldn't hear himself anymore. Just the crowd.

Take that, he said with his eyes after Hinata scored that first sweet, sweet point, smiling at Kageyama like a switchblade. Hinata’s ours now.

Upon closer examination, what Atsumu actually meant to say was: he’s mine.

    ::

    Why didn’t he say that, you ask? Because he’s a fucking idiot, of course. By this point Sakusa had already caught on to his feelings. If you had looked carefully at the background you would have noticed him squinting at Atsumu at various points throughout the match with three percent more intensity than usual. The rest of his attention was reserved for the ball, but he devoted three percent to Atsumu. This is Sakusa we’re talking about. Three percent is significant.

    ::

    There is a boring romantic subplot in one of the manga that Akaashi’s magazine serializes. Unfortunately it’s about a boy and a girl, so it was probably destined to be boring from the start. But the brilliant thing about it is both the girl and the boy realize they have feelings for each other in chapter thirty and then proceed to make zero progress in their relationship for the next two hundred chapters.

“Why don’t they just get together?” he asked Akaashi once. They were having hotpot in Bokuto’s apartment. Because it was Bokuto’s apartment they got Akaashi as a freebie. Akaashi had brought wagyu beef.

“The author doesn’t feel like it.” Akaashi’s glasses kept getting fogged up by the steam. He looked like a character from a detective movie.

“Oh. Is the author single?” asked Atsumu, who was single.

“Yes,” said Akaashi, who was not single.

“Are you hitting on my boyfriend?” Bokuto called from the bathroom. They ignored him.

“Aha,” Atsumu said triumphantly. “I knew it. The author clearly has no experience. It pisses me off that they keep hinting at their feelings without getting to the point.”

“That is fair.” Akaashi had decided to take off his glasses at risk of stabbing someone in the face with his chopsticks.

“Alternatively, you could remove the romantic subplot altogether. I doubt much would change.”

Alternatively he could chase Hinata down after practice on the way to the train station. It would be snowing, because snow is pretty and makes everything look soft and cinematic. Atsumu would call out Hinata’s name as he approached him from two hundred meters away. He would be out of breath because everyone’s constantly out of breath in romantic cinema. Hinata would telepathically know that Atsumu was here to confess his undying love for him and hide his blushing face in his scarf.

Alternatively, they could have dinner together at a stuffy candle-lit restaurant. Only this isn’t a manga, and Akaashi isn’t the editor, so Hinata is still practicing serves in the gym when Atsumu appears in the doorway, still reeling at the realization that he’s been ignored for a week.

Well then. He scrolls through Instagram to pass the time.

    ::

      When he’s done, Atsumu offers to help Hinata with clean-up. “Thank you,” says Hinata rather reluctantly, still not breathing in his direction.

“You know,” Atsumu says, feeling very tired. He’s too tired to beat around the bush. He has decided to eat the bush. “I can tell you’re ignoring me.”

Hinata creates distance under the guise of picking up loose balls. “Mm.”

“Why?”

Hinata squats down in front of a ball. Atsumu walks over and squats down beside him. The ceiling lights are fierce and bright above them, and Hinata’s face is tilted away from it. Atsumu can’t read his expression but he can see his ears, which are pink, and the side of his neck, which is pink as well. In this position, from this angle, Hinata’s musculature is even more stunning than usual; biceps, shoulders, back. This shouldn’t be a surprise given that they’re all adults now instead of petty high school kids with grudges as big as clenched fists. But if asked right now what the prototypical volleyball player should look like, Atsumu would point at Hinata and say: that guy.

“Sorry about sticking my fingers in your mouth,” he says quietly, folding his arms together over his knees and resting his chin on top. And then, in a flash of inspiration: “Also, I’m in love with you. I hope your cut healed properly?”

Hinata finally lifts his face up into the light, and Atsumu is reminded of watching the rising sun spill across the surface of the sea in a NatGeo documentary. For a second he looks absolutely lost. Then he knits his brow, stares hard at Atsumu like he’s trying to do calculus in his head or something.

“About the cut,” he says, hesitating. “Why don’t you find out for yourself.”

Atsumu chokes.

    ::

    It’s not like he hasn’t been in love before. In high school he had a crush on Kita Shinsuke that was so debilitatingly bad, he never even told Osamu about it. But Kita Shinsuke didn’t have a debilitating crush on him and he never went pro. They didn’t wind up as teammates again several years later when Atsumu finally figured out how to style his hair properly with gel. Kita vanished off the radar after high school with that unnerving smile of his. They haven’t seen each other since.

Anyway, Atsumu has a lot of complicated feelings for Hinata. At first he was pissed at him for teleporting off to Brazil for two years, and thinking that he could still brute force his way into a Division One team immediately upon his return. Then Hinata actually did that, and Atsumu spent several weeks sulking about their new teammate by refusing to so much as breathe in his direction. Eventually Sakusa sat him down in the empty locker room one morning and looked him straight in the eye from two meters away and said you want to set for him don’t you. After thinking about it for a while he realized that Sakusa was right. He wanted to set for Hinata Shouyou. Back in high school the feeling had arisen mainly out of spite and childish frustration. Now it was genuine.

So fine, maybe he likes Hinata a little more than he should.

They’re not high schoolers anymore. They’re old enough to know where to draw the lines between work shit and personal shit and risk-taking and stupidity. They’re supposed to know themselves better by this point. Like what’s your favorite alcoholic drink. What’s your taste in men and sports and sportsmen. Do you believe in miracles.

Do you believe in—?

“—This,” Hinata says. Atsumu realizes belatedly that he had missed the first part of his sentence but before he can try to figure it out Hinata fists a hand in his shirt and yanks him forward.

Oh no, Atsumu thinks. Hinata’s smiling. All crooked like a semicircle of sun. All pretty-like.

“Since that’s out of the way,” he says brilliantly, warm breath fanning out over Atsumu’s cheeks, moving closer still. “I hope you don’t mind if I just—”

Atsumu closes his eyes and lets Hinata pull him in. He’s old enough to know where this leads.

    ::

    They’re having dinner together again for some reason. Bokuto roped them all into it to stave off his boredom because Akaashi the shounen manga editor is in Hokkaido on a business trip, but he offered to pay, so Sakusa went along with it, and Sakusa went along with it, so Atsumu went along with it, and Atsumu went along with it, so Hinata went along with it. The truth is they almost always go along with Bokuto’s whims because Bokuto’s a fundamentally nice human being and Akaashi brings the fanciest ingredients to their hotpot parties. It doesn’t actually matter if Bokuto offers to pay. Someone will start the reluctant-yes-train and then the rest will join in and before they know it, they’re all ducking into the doorway of a restaurant together.

“So was anyone gonna tell me that two of my teammates are dating,” Bokuto says, waving his chopsticks around grandly while Sakusa attempts to shield his risotto from the onslaught of loose rice grains. “Or was I just supposed to find out from Omi-kun here?”

Hinata’s eyes go wide. Atsumu, who had been chewing on a fry, doubles over coughing.

“ATSUMU. ARE YOU OKAY.” Bokuto’s feet are on the table. Sakusa is seeing God.

“Shit.” Atsumu winces, feeling around in his mouth with his tongue. “I think I cut my gum.”

“Let me see.”

“Uh, Hinata, you don’t have to do that, actually—”

“Are you going to do that thing again?” God bless Bokuto and his endless store of curiosity towards all things chaotic and doomed in the world. God bless Sakusa who has ascended to the next dimension. God bless Atsumu's poor gums.

Hinata beams at Bokuto. “No,” he says slowly, bright as a bonfire. “I’m going to kiss him.”

God bless them all.

[c-atm]

Proudful Anniversary

"Hmm?"  Connie droned in concentration, looking at the assortment of choices in front of her, laid across her bed, arms crossed and head slightly hanging to the left."What would get him really, really rev him up?" 

She picked up a small black mesh teddy with a lacy ribbon before sighing and putting it back down. Her eyes caught an Icy blue babydoll with pink tanga panty.  "Hmm..No."

Maybe the green and blue corset, No. She turned, and her eyes broadened at the red ribbon bra and panty set. "Oh... That was a good time...The body painting, touching...So fun, but...This is a holiday special." She placed it down, fondly looking at it... 

It was one of her favorites...

"Dizzy? Jacko, maybe?" she'd put both costumes into consideration…"Doesn't feel right without him being Ky or Sol...or a camera." 

Connie groaned. He has been gone for a whole month and was coming back tonight...Hell, he might be on his way now, and she couldn't decide on what sexy thing she could put on go tease and please the love of this and every other one of her lives. 

"I know Mister won't care. I could be coming out of work at R&D...Wearing work from R&D, and he'd still see me as desirable... It's only right that I live up to it." She sighed as she fell back on their bed before turning to the closet...

Her eyes widened as she saw it. "That's it.."

It was sexy on her; it made her feel good when she wore it; it drove him batty with loving lust, and..it meant something to them both—one of their most precious remembrances. She smiled as said memory hit her and made her heart and pelvis warm. With a giddy smile, she bounced and from the bed to get the outfit.

Steven walked in a few hours later, finished making his rounds around LHW. Smile on his face as he saw the candlelit arrangement with strawberries on the living room table. 

"What is all this about?" He pondered, popping a strawberry into his mouth.  As he was about to pick another when warm palms blinded him, and another feminine warmth pressed his back.

"Guess who?"

Steven smirked as he heard the teasing sing-song voice of Connie. "Well, either a luscious lioness, a mischievous minx, or my naughty, playful Heartberry. It's a 20-20-60 chance that it is Heartberry, though."

"Congrats," She kissed the back of his head gently and snuggled into his broad back. "Welcome home, Mister."

"It's good to be home," He responded with a smirk. "So what's all this bout, Heart?" He pointed towards the setup. "And what are you hiding by the by…" He reached to remove her hands from obstructing his view.

"Wait!" Connie ordered as she removed her hands before holding him by the chest. "Don't turn around, not yet. I want it to be a surprise for you, Bisky."

"Oh. What's the occasion, Nini?" He popped another berry into his mouth.

She giggled. "Don't you know the date, or has all that traveling made you lost to time?"  She kissed his trapezoid tenderly, getting a bit of a shiver from him. 

"October 21st?"

"It's midnight," she kissed his spine, getting another shiver and sigh. "You were out all day, giving everyone your attention."

"So? it's October 22nd." 

She laughed into his back when the date left his mouth, feeling the shock and excitement run through her Mister. 

"The anniversary of our war game." His voice was full of fondness and admiration as he held her hands in his, kissing the palms. 

"Also, the anniversary of our time at Empire City." She added, holding him by the waist. "Been a year since then. We've done so much."

"True, we certainly have...We've gotten more intimate with each other." 

Connie gave him a bit of a nip on his tail bone due to his pervy tone, making him yelp " That's true," she chuckled. "Gave you a great birthday."

"Yeah, you certainly did. Kept me on my toes, running all over, playing your mad game. Like some birthday Riddler, or Joker."

"I prefer birthday dungeon master." She teased, "Besides, you got some cool gifts, and you loved it all. I got video proof." She retorted with a sigh, "Plus, you gave me one first. Cosplays, photoshoots, parades, chases through the city, meeting Wanda and Alex... "her grip tightened as her voice got a little more sensual, and her lips came close to his ear " The time in our hotel room... The night in our hotel room ."

"Which one?"

"Both."

The two laughed in quiet devotion.

"Well,you did ask me to sink it in."  His voice smug and relaxed, getting a slightly tighter grip from her.

"I did, and you certainly delivered...Cocky."

"And you love it."

She sighed, "Stars know I do…" She admitted, 

"Provocative Minx." He teased, getting a laugh from the researcher.

"I prefer Lubricious Lioness, thank you. Also, you are not innocent in that issue, hippy ." 

Steven scoffed. "Not my fault you have a majestic...Everything."

She smirked, "But you prefer my hips and my ' heart,' more than anything."

"Your fault, since that damn dance in your old room."  He argued weakly.

"Oh, you mean the one where you asked to live in between a wall and my butt...My 'heart.' She jest, "Who would have guessed you'd get your wish months after?"

"I figure the answer is you...You did give me keys, after all." 

"Best. Decision. Ever." She joyfully laughed. "I always get breakfast, lunch, and or dinner, just in case I miss any one of them." She hummed before going silent.

"Connie-?"

 "You take way too good care of me, Mister." Connie gave him another kiss. "I'm so thankful for you."

 "You don't have to thank me for that." Steven declared.

She shook her head. "You don't know just how much it means, the things you do for me. Definitely, this year. All the time, you were there for me. Rather it's with a meal, to talk to me, being that person I could lean on and vent to, keeping me from getting to wrap-up in work or reprimand me when I needed it." Connie laughed, sniffing a bit. "For the big things too like my birthday..and actually giving me Valentine's day I want to remember...For unknowingly accepting my invitation and moving in with me."

"Hey, where's all this coming from, now?" Steven asked, a bit concerned by the slight dampness of his back. 

"Nothing...No wait, it is something." She wiped her eyes. " It's a lot of things, but it easily boils down to one thing...I love you...You're my best friend, the best thing that ever happened to me. I appreciate you for everything you've done for me, with me- " 

"To you." He added with a slightly lecherous lingo.

She chuckled, "Yes. To me as well, my mischievous Mister. Though I always thank you for that." 

"You give as good as you get, Naughty Heartberry." He smirked. "I wanna see you...Know it supposed to be a gift, but I want to look you in those midnight eyes of yours."

"Mmm…Why do you have I be so..Charming " She released him and stepped back from her chuckling partner, with a blush as he turned around. It grew more when she saw his facial expressions. 

"Oh...Wow." Stevens' mouth went dry, and his toes curled at the visage in front of him as his heart rammed itself into his chest repeatedly, and his gem burned with craving and desire, the same as the last time.

The last time, when the outfit hung off her curves loosely, stopping right at the highest part of her thigh and made her look sinfully, innocently teasing. 

This time with her body a year fuller, a bit taller with lean muscle, with more pronounced curves, arches, and angles, that allowed her to fill out the outfit to the point it stopped right at her hip, giving a perk of what was under; she was honest to God temptress out of a fantasy, and just like last time.

It was effortless. 

"Happy Anniversary, Mister." She smiled innocently as she scratched the back of her head with sleeves a bit too long. "I know, it's a bit of a cop-out but.." she went low in tone. "It was what I was wearing in Empire City a year ago. When we started to get truly, physically intimate...and I ~mmmmm~hmmm~hmmm~ ! "  

She was interrupted by Steven sealing her mouth with his own. The feel of his right hand upon her cheek, of his bottom lip, finding its way between her own as he sucked on her upper lip, and his tongue as it gently massages her top teeth and gums. She couldn't help but swoon and melt for him, just like always.

'chu !' They broke the kiss, leaving her in a slightly, giggly love-drunk gaze.  

"Oh, wow, hehe." Connie grinned as she shifted in place. "All that for putting on your black turtleneck and green boy-shorts set." She teased, only to yelp in surprise when he lifted her over his shoulder and guided her to the couch. "My Mister's manhandling me," She laughed as he sat on the couch and straddled her upon his lap, facing him, his hands on her hips, hers own folded upon his nape.

"What's that look on your face, Hubby." She teased, resting her forehead on his, looking at his eyes. The impassioned gaze they held. 

 "Thank you."

"Hmm." She gave him a sly grin, "For what? The outfit? Eep! -Chu !- " That got her hip a pinch and her lips a peck, both she welcomed warmly.

"A bit " He grinned as squeezed her bottom, watching her chest hiked as Connie took a deep breath.

"A bit, huh?." She whispered in a husky tone, biting her lips.

"Well, more than a bit. -Chu- , but real talk. All playfulness aside -Chu- , Thank you." He caressed her cheek. "Thank you for all the fun memories. My birthday, the performance in new year's...For letting me pamper you on Valentine's morning....and your birthday." He gave her a fox grin, "Eh-hehe, for February 15th…"

"Yeah...Think I ended up enjoying that more than you, Bisky -Chu!- It was fun being your canvas...Letting you have your way and all." She poked his nose, getting a grin.

"I don't know. Complimenting you for two hours straight. Making you a blushing mess, that was a highlight of my year." He teased, getting a slap on his chest. 

"I think you just like making me a jumble of nerves."

"Turning my lioness to a cub. It's a joy to be embraced..." He laughed before stroking her ear with his thumb."Not to say, I don't like being your toy as well." Hearing her hum and lean into his machinations with a loving smile made his heart soar. "Thank you for that too."

"I love it when you call me 'Lioness' or 'Cub." She mewled, "Guess that makes you a cat-toy, though." 

"You certainly had the tail and ears to prove it at one point." He grinned. "Thank you for letting me treat you like this... "His grin dropped to a small smile " For letting me love you like this and for loving me. For all the affection you showed me. For all the times you dropped or worked remotely to spend time for me. All the silly games that remind me of our childhood. All the time, you helped me with my ambassador duties, helping me with my speeches and all..…. All the times you were there when everything felt too much; ...For giving me a home. Not just having a place to come to but somewhere warm and joyous- For..this." He waved his hand, "For doing things like this. it's really… Amazing."

He kissed her short and sweet. "You're amazing. Damn, you're so...Heart-swelling... Not only do you make me love you, but I'm proud." 

"P-Proud?" Connie stammered, turning her face away in a basement.

"Yeah! Why wouldn't I be?" He started, "I get to come home to my best friend. My wonderful, ingenious, strong, captivating lioness of a best friend."  He added, holding her chin up to face him. "Heartberry, being partners with you, is one of the greatest pride in my life." He declared, kissing Connies' forehead before she pulled the turtleneck up to cover her face and showing more of her green set.

"Connie, you ok?" 

She didn't respond to his teasing tone, verbally, but nodded on as she rested her head on his chest, humming as she rubbed her back." Punk." She said, muffled. "You know what saying that you're proud does to me." She lectured gently.

"Admittedly," He lightly pulled the turtleneck down to see her face, marooned with a pouty smirk."Small part it feeds that well-deserved ego of yours." He chuckled.

"I don't have an Eg- mmmhh~hmm!"

* CHU !*

Steven smirked, looking at her shocked but satisfied face."I know...All you do..all you have done and will do, never clouded your mind. Only serving to humble you more, and push you to your next goal." He nuzzled against the bridge of her nose. "It's one of the reasons why I'm proud to say that you chose me to share this thing we have with me," he grinned as he stole another kiss, " also, it gives me a whole bunch of reasons to brag about you." 

"You- you don't really do that, right?"  She blushed.

"Oh, you know, I do. You can ask Spinel and Yellow about how I talk you up to other delegates.

"Steven." She moaned in embarrassment as she snuggled closer. "Why?"

"Because you deserve to be known and acknowledged." He answered.

"But I am. The diamonds, The gems, Little Homeworld, R&D. They see me...More than that. ..You see me." She glanced at him. "You have for years...The very first person who saw 'me' ..." Connie laid her forehead upon Steven's, her married cheeks becoming more heated. "I want you to be proud of what you see… Just like I am when I see you." She confessed.

Steven's face took a shade of bubblegum before a smile split his face. "There's not a moment I'm not proud of you, little try-hard." He grinned before gaining a kiss from his Heartberry...

"Maybe, but your *-chu-* adoration is worth *-chu-* the effort.". she kissed him one last time before hopping off his lap to stand. " Speaking of efforts, let me show you the fruit of mines." She held out her hand to grasp, beaming when Steven took it.

"You seem eager," Steven commented with a playful husk as he followed a bouncing and strutting Connie up their stairs. "Making it kind of hard to concentrate, though." He added as his eyes got more than a bit of thigh, hip, and green cloth with each step.

"Oh, you're concentrating on exactly where I want you to." She smirked, putting a bit more twist in her hips to give him bit lips.

" Mm~mm ! Teasing Minx."

She did. "Like when you call me that too."

When they got to the top of the stairs, she led him past their bedroom and towards the recently installed 'room.' It's don't was reminiscent of the crystal gems temple door, sans gemstones.  In their place was a hard-light handprint reader. Pressing her hand inside caused the door to glow a bluish light before sliding open.

Within was a room that could only be described as 'Connie Maheswaran.' Inside was an endless hall of a traditional-looking south-Asian palace with perpetual sunlight gleaming through its windows; full bookshelves as far as the eye can see furnished the castle with it's red, gold, and yellow walls adorned with swords and violins.

"I always liked your room; it's like a fantasy ballroom library mixed," Steven said as he looked around. "Better than my pink clouds."

"I like how imaginative your room is," Connie answered. "But this isn't what I came to show you." She looked up taken a deep breath.

"Room: Oct 22!"

Steven watched as the room changed from a palace to a familiar setting. A very sentimental one. The king-size bed, the white walls with a flat-screen embedded in the northern border, the dresser and mirror on the east wall and the door to the bathroom on the west wall, and the ceiling mirror looking back above the bed.

"Is...Is this our hotel room from Empire City?" Steven asked as he sat in the bed. "This feels like the same bed." 

"Do you like it?" She smirked gently. " I know, we could have just gone tomorrow, no problem...But, I wanted to bring the memory to you. Since you just returned from traveling." Her smirk relaxed to smile, a shy one. " So...Did I impress you?"

Steven could only nod. "Did she impress me? She asks." He joked. A wickedly caring grin on his face, " Yes. Of course, you did; how couldn't I be impressed by this, by you…What's this about, Heartberry?

"It's simple." She walked up to Steven, straddling his lap, "My gift to you is the recreation of that night, that first time we gave each other our everything; it took a while... Been working on this reality since you left."

"A whole month?" He inquired with his eyes wide open as she nodded. "You took a whole month to recreate our first time?" He chuckled as he looked at her, drinking her image in. The way his turtle neck fit her, the way the light of the moon gave her a near ethereal glow, the carnal and passionate aura that radiated from her, just like last year.

Just more. 

"I'm your little ' Try-hard .' Remember?" She pushed him down onto his back, looking down at him with a loving and libidinous smile as she felt him palming her seat. "So, of course, I'm gonna try hard to give you the best anniversary ever.." She admitted as she bit under his chin, caressing his temple as she did. "To show you how thankful I am for this year."

Steven sighed at the feel of her manipulations, squirming under her a bit. "Now, well, I'd be remiss... Hhmmm~mmmm .. " He paused as to bask at the sound of her melodious giggle as nipped along his ear. " If I didn't meet you, half-way."

"Oh, you're definitely past 'half-way .' Not really hiding your ' pride' now are you, Mister." She teased as she pressed herself a bit more on him holding him close.

"Not trying to." He gave her a devilish smirk before turning over suddenly, positioning her under him, and him between her knees. He looked at her bit lip smile, her raven hair backdrop, the turtleneck that rode up to half her torso—his palms on her boy-short covered hips.

"You're quite proud , indeed." Connie arched her left brow.

"Of you." He started, tracing her lip with his thumb, dipping down to kiss her tenderly, "and I'm -chu- gonna show -chu- you, exactly -chu- how proud. -CHU !- It'll take the whole night, though."

"Show me." Connie implored, "You can start by doing that classic and beloved song and dance..and sink them in ."  she laughed before moaning as the telling 'shing ' of his teeth transforming, and the feeling of his fangs squeezing down her collarbone as his hands affectionately traversed her torso. She held him close by the back for his head and shoulder blades as she gave him more of her neck to please. Her knees, clutching his side. 

He took a moment to look at her as she did him. They exchanged no words, just a glance and a peck of their lips that soon developed the heartful nips, upon places other than their lips. Each field with the feeling of being missed and missing 'this' as they began their night of loving, carnal, and prideful anniversary bliss.

[mcheang]

Lila’s unlucky shadow

This content features a lot of Lila-bashing. Though I’m not sure if bashing=salt so I’m just gonna put bashing in the tags. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

This idea came out of nowhere. It was just a thought that Plagg is the kwami of bad luck and it snowballed into this. I realize this may seem a tad OOC, but what’s fanfiction without indulgence.

Furious at Lila for Onii-Chan, (hey, she nearly caused Ladybug’s death), Adrien decides to avenge his lady. So Plagg is asked to give Lila bad luck.

The kwami is eager to be let loose. Adrien just warns Plagg not to go overboard or Lila will just soak in the pity and take advantage of his classmates. (And yeah, he doesn’t want to feel guilty for requesting Plagg’s help)

Being tiny and intangible has its advantages. So while Lila is paying attention in class, she doesn’t notice Plagg hiding behind her head. Because’s he’s intangible, he doesn’t even mess up her hair...at first. Basically this is how Plagg always curses Lila. He does this several times, even more than Adrien’s request should have caused, as you will soon see.

1. Lila is stuck with Chloe as a project partner for the duration of the class. True to form, Chloe refuses to work her share. And since Sabrina promises that Lila is supposedly a bright student and super friendly/tame, Lila can’t exactly stand up for herself. Everyone else is too busy to notice Lila. So she grits her teeth and completes the assignment, determined to get back at Chloe. However, when she reports on Chloe, everyone else gives her pity but don’t make a big fuss, they’ve all been bullied by Chloe and just share stories. Caline just asks Lila to be the bigger person.

2. Puberty has been kind to Lila. Not anymore. Pimples and body odour make themselves known. People don’t really want to be around Lila. Deodorant doesn’t seem effective and when Lila asks Adrien for advice, he says he can’t help her because his facials use cinnamon. (When Marinette made cinnamon rolls, Lila smacked it out of her hands and claimed to be deathly allergic hence her overreaction)

3. Bad hair day...or should I say days? Plagg also may or may not have thrown spit balls into the back of Lila’s head. Only they weren’t made of paper. Nope. Plagg is a cat and he coughs up hair balls. Yeah...these are easily combed out but they give Lila’s hair an oily texture and make the strands limp (remember Snape?) She thought there were dust bunnies.

Once Lady Noire detransforms, Marinette bribes Plagg with cheese treats from the bakery if he will haunt Lila. Plagg is just so happy people want him to cause chaos. Plagg promises this deal will remain between them, just like he promised Adrien.

1. Lila is haunted at night. Plagg only has to be there once but his power causes it so that whenever Lila is ready for bed, the lights always switch off, it sounds like there are claws on the windows, something scurrying on the floor, her closet door creaking, and why do her feet feel clammy? Lila is plagued with nightmares. She is too tired to even take advantage of her class’ sympathy.

2. While spending time with her Mother (something Lila cherishes), Lila accidentally trips on the stairs and twists her ankle. She is confined to the hospital. She has an incompetent nurse looking after her. So when her friends visit, Lila is too overdosed on anesthetic to take advantage of the situation. When Lila is released, the most logical solution would be to sit in front. But then Chloe would never move. And Lila does not want to be the new Sabrina. Adrien makes it clear he and Nino are a package deal, and Lila hates Marinette. So Lila insists walking will speed her recovery. When Adrien says Plagg was kinda harsh with the broken bone, Plagg rolls his eyes and says the girl exaggerated. Lila threw such a tantrum she got rushed to the hospital over a sprained ankle. Adrien’s response: oh...never mind, keep up the good work. Marinette already suspected Lila faked her injury because she herself had a broken ankle and Lila’s bandaged ankle in a boot should have been a cast.

3. The Césaire twins got gum in Lila’s hair and try to help by snipping it off. Lila can’t stop them in time because her hands are tied with cleaning the dishes. Lila has to go to a real hairdresser who says all her hair has to go. Lila ends up with a pixie cut, and she does not rock it.

When Marinette was nearly akumatized, Tikki asks Plagg for the same favour, bribing him with cheese danishes, guilt tripping him about Kwami Buster, and using the pity plot by confessing she was so scared inside the akuma purse. Plagg falls for it, and also because he doesn’t like Tikki glaring at him. He also doesn’t mention to Tikki that Adrien and Marinette also got him to do this because....well...CAMEMBERT. Yeah...Plagg goes on such a crazy cheese fest that it is a wonder how he hasn’t gained an ounce of fat or gathered Adrien’a notice, though Lila’s body odour has started to remind Adrien of the stinky cheese, not exactly but close enough. Perhaps Lila has developed a liking for blue cheese?

1. Lila’s experience as a model is painful. Not at first, though. She is given hair extensions and lots of makeup. Her appearance is airbrushed. But then Lila gets bad reviews for her first model shoot and Adrien’s fans target her with harsh emails. Adrien has to play nice so he tells her to ignore it, that’s what he usually does. Natalie isn’t sympathetic. “You want to be a model, you need to learn to accept that there will be people who hate you.” When her classmates suggest she filter her email, Lila starts getting hate mail and is bullied at home because Dupont is too protected. Mrs Rossi is concerned and decides to end Lila’s model career since her baby is so distressed. Adrien is thrilled and gives Plagg a gigantic round of Camembert. (Credit for inspiration goes to @coke-and-candy I believe there was a follow up fic about negative critics but I couldn’t find it)

2. Lila claims to have gotten backstage passes to Jagged’s concert. Alya is happy because Marinette got them the same passes for herself, Alya, Adrien and Nino. Lila fake smiles. On the day of the concert, Lila fakes an injury and begs Alya not to tell Jagged because she doesn’t want to worry him. Alya keeps her word but Lila nearly cracked a tooth when the newspapers published a photo of Jagged presenting Marinette as his new personal designer. No matter what lies Lila spins, celebrity or injury-related, people just keep raving about Marinette.

3. Plagg visits her wardrobe and wrecks everything. Lila is flabbergasted but the claw marks suggest a wild animal got in. She isn’t totally wrong. Plagg invited some animals to make a mess of the girl’s room. Lila doesn’t want the class to volunteer to clean up her room, on the off chance her Mother shows up. But she does mentioned how she donated her entire wardrobe to charity. Chloe overheard and decides to be nice in front of Adrien. She dumps designer rejects on Lila. Of course, Lila doesn’t know that. Marinette does tell Alya, but Adrien pretends to care for Chloe’s improvements and comments that Lila seems to like them anyway.

When Lila rifles through Adrien’s locker and throws away the Camembert, Plagg narrows his eyes. “Alright, Liar, no more games, this is WAR!” (I was having trouble imagining what could anger Plagg even further. Credit for inspiration to the fanfiction Camembert Ice Cream by @quicksilversquared )

1. Lila starts to lose her voice and her throat hurts.

2. When Lila tries to communicate by writing, her hands undergo a seizure so she can’t pick up a pencil.

3. For some reason, the only way to cure her throat is to eat a regular diet of healthy but utterly unappetizing food. Lila has to say goodbye to junk food and sodas. Her water now tastes bitter because of the health supplements dissolved in it. Even with her voice returned, Lila can’t talk too much or she will strain her voice. It’s a shame oral presentations are over or Lila could have really used that excuse.

Plagg is satisfied. He got vengeance for 2 heroes, Sugar Cube, and most importantly himself. All this chaos has been nice, but he’s exhausted. Time for a cat nap.

(Note: needless to say, Lila won’t be causing trouble for quite some time. Plagg’s curses have only strengthened each other because...well, like calls to like. By the time Plagg’s curses run out, Marinette and Adrien would be living happily ever after, Tikki would be content, and Plagg would be munching on Camem-...hey....WHO ATE MY CHEESE TART? PLAGG!!!!!)

[jungle321jungle]

Do Souls Taste Good? (You Seem To Think So)

Souls taste like sugar, chew like stale gum, and go down like a rock only to dissolve into energy before they even hit the stomach. They're an acquired taste; one for murderers and kishin eggs and the demon weapons who take them down.

Dee has eaten ninety nine of them, and chews them like bubble gum until the flavor is all gone; Roman's not had half as many, but he only gives them a few cursory chews out of habit; and his brother Remus doesn't even have a dozen, but he always licks them with a grin before popping it in his mouth and swallowing hard so that it's path down his throat is violently visible.

They all think the souls taste too sickly sweet.

Ao3

Tagging: @ashensanity

~~~~

Episode One: Matters of The Soul

“Number ninety-nine, congrats! Did your meeting with Lord Death go well?”

Virgil gave Patton a nod but Dee smiled proudly as he collapsed into his seat, “It did! And this time tomorrow I’ll be a full fledged Death Scythe.”

“I could get ninety nine souls,” Roman muttered into the air but hearing him only caused Dee’s excitement to rise.

“Jealous are we?” He asked his sharp teeth exposed as he smiled. “Well we did make a bet a while ago over who would be the better sword, and well, it looks like I win.”

“That’s unfair. You both have different strengths,” Patton chided. “Dee is better with speed and flexibility, and Roman you can switch modes!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and ignored the urge to tell Dee to make him shut up because though he wouldn’t admit it, he was just as excited. But he also equally nervous.

“You are all quite loud this early in the morning.”

Virgil looked up in surprise as Logan sat down beside him. “You’re later than usual.”

Logan sent a glare to his partner who hadn’t seemed to notice. “I am due to certain unapologetic someone.”

“I will never understand how you ended up with Remus.”

“I suppose it’s as the saying goes, opposites attract? So, how was your evening Virgil?”

“Pretty good,” Virgil nodded. “Actually Dee and I-”

“I’m going to be a Death Scythe!” Dee interrupted.

Logan raised an eyebrow unimpressed, “That is the goal of all the weapons in this school, yes.”

“We got the ninety-nineth kishin egg yesterday,” Virgil explained. “So next is...”

“The witch’s soul.”

“Right. We also learned there’s a witch not to far away named Remy. So hopefully Dee will be the newest Death Scythe.”

“And we’re rooting for you guys!” Patton cheered despite Roman’s almost pitiful expression.

Logan adjusted his glasses a few times before he spoke, “...Remy? Then I ask that you both proceed with caution?”

Virgil frowned suddenly feeling more worried than moments before, “You don’t think we can handle it?”

“He thinks that the witch will turn you both into thousands of tiny pieces which he’ll use for potions,” Remus tossed in.

“That is not at all what I was going to say.”

“Or maybe he’ll save you both as sacrifices for spells! Blood of a virgin is an important thing.”

Logan gave a groan as he rubbed at his temple, “I was going to say that reports say that something about Remy is a bit off. Thus you should exercise caution.”

“Ah yes we should be cautious of the witch living in a fucking pumpkin on the edge of Death City.”

Virgil shrugged, his eyes not leaving the large vegetable as he wondered what sort of wards could cover the place. “We should just stake it out today. Come back to attack tomorrow.”

“Or we could just go in that open window,” Dee suggested pointing as he did.

“No! We are not sneaking into a witch’s inner sanctum!”

“Then how else do you expect to fight him?”

Virgil paused, he had planned out multiple possible attacks but all of which involved fighting the witch outside his own home. “We need to lure him out.”

“How?”

Virgil blinked, mentally running through the plans in his head but apparently that had been the missing detail which had been bothering him all day. Finally he gave a shrug, “By... knocking?”

Dee didn’t reply initially as he began to climb a tree. “I’m going in the window,” he said finally. “You knock and tell me how that goes.”

Virgil opened his mouth to complain, but Dee was already in the window. He swallowed listening intently for any signs of distress, before he took a deep breath and climbed the tree. His heart was pounding almost painfully in his chest- and it only increased as he pulled himself up higher. There should be sound.

And yet inside was nothing but silence. If Dee has encountered the witch there should be sounds of fighting, or even if the witch wasn’t there, Dee should be poking his head out to call for Virgil to go faster. There should be something anything. At least if Dee would scream, Virgil would know that he was alive.

As he touched the windowsill Virgil took a breath to prepare himself for what could be inside. He was prepared for the worst. For literally anything.

Anything except Dee standing frozen at the sight of a naked man who was standing there with a frown. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up as he tried to force himself to function.

“Y-you’re Remy?”

The man nodded once a casual expression on his face, “Oh there’s two of you? Shark teeth here is a tad cuter though.”

Virgil tried his best not to be offended as he moved to stand beside his partner, “Sorry to catch you like- like this, but your soul is ours!”

He liked to think that the words were more confident than they came out, as Virgil tried to look basically everywhere but at the witch. It also wasn’t helpful that Dee hadn’t used that perfect moment to switch to his weapon form.

“Dee!” He hissed. “We kind of need to fight the witch!”

Remy looked amused, “Witch? No need to censor yourself.”

Dee seemed to be finally shaken from his stupor as he blinked, “Oh yeah.” With nothing more said he transformed and Virgil felt the familiar weight of the silvery yellow rapier that was Dee in his hand.

He held Dee in front of him trying to focus on what he was here to do, not how the witch was distracting him. But thankfully the witch seemed to understand the concept of a fight as that’s when he snapped once and he was (thankfully) clothed. He wore a simple pair of jeans, shirt, and a leather jacket, but with that he also has donned a witch’s hat (and a pair of sunglasses?).

“Let’s get this over with,” he smiled raising a hand. “Pumpkin, pum- pumpkin...”

Virgil released a breath ready for the attack, letting his opponent attack first to observe better understand.

“Halloween canon!”

Unfortunately all Virgil observed was the sensation of being blasted backwards out the wall and flying backwards until he hit a tree and promptly fell to the ground.

“Should’ve attacked first,” Dee commented unhelpfully as he leaned over him.

Virgil gave his partner a glare as he pulled himself to his feet unsteadily. “You could’ve caught me.”

Dee gave a shrug and looked back to the pumpkin- with its now Virgil sized hole. “Round two?”

Virgil nodded, “Ready when you are.”

Dee nodded once and transformed again, “This time avoid that attack.”

“I will stab you into a rock.”

~~~~

“How are they doing?” Emilie asked worriedly entering the room.

“They’re struggling,” Thomas admitted as he watched Virgil get hit by a blast for what must've been the third time now. “To be honest I’m not sure if they’ll win.”

Emilie gave a noise of distress drawing Thomas’s attention away from the mirror in front of him.

“Listen,” Thomas started. “I’ve seen many many many students loose their lives again a witch-” at Emilie’s eyes widening Thomas quickly gave a cough and tried to refocus on the point. “Virgil’s not going to be one of them!”

“You think so?”

Thomas nodded with a slight sigh of relief, “Yeah. He may not win this fight, and he may be left with some broken bones but he’ll be alive.”

“How many broken bones?”

“Um... Not too many?” Wow he was bad at this. “He’ll be okay. He’s a tough kid.”

“He’s still-” Thomas watched as the death scythe gave a visible cringe as Virgil narrowly dodged a blast, and from here they could see where a hole had been singled into Virgil’s patchwork cloak. “Still a kid.”

“But he’s a capable one. How many kishin eggs have they collected?”

“I know I know,” Emilie sighed sitting down to watch. “It’s just the father in me that worries. You’d be the same if Logan was out there.”

Thomas gave an awkward shrug in reply, “ I think Logan would disown himself if he ever found out I was worried about him in a fight. He’d probably add it to the pile of reasons he thinks he’s not good enough to be shinigami.”

“Isn’t he doing well though? They’ve finally gotten a few kishin eggs, right?”

“Lo is pushing himself to perfect soul resonance with Remus and they’re not exactly getting results. He’s just too hard on himself. Plenty of students can’t. But I’m sure he’ll gain confidence in himself soon enough. Just like I’m sure Virgil will finally come round to talking to you.”

Thomas has meant it on an uplifting note, but Emilie only seemed to look more upset as he watched the fight. He gave a sigh himself and redirected his attention to his students, one thing at a time.

~~~~

Virgil tried to control his breathing as he sprinted down the city street. It had taken far too much time, but it seemed he had finally lured Remy out of his comfort zone. Unfortunately however, Remy was floating out Virgil’s reach.

He gave a quick turn right, barely dodging a blast as he started down another street. Virgil was silently thankful that no civilians were around to get hurt, but as he ran toward a parked car and idea came to mind. He ran up the car hood and stood on the roof Dee in hand as he waited for Remy to close in.

“I just want the sword!” The witch complained as he came closer. “Come on, I’m sure he’d be happier with me anyway. Right babe?” He purred.

Virgil ignored him launching himself into the air and thrusting his sword forward. It was enough to make contact and shove Remy off the pumpkin and down toward the ground, but not enough to do much else.

The witch gave a groan as he pulled himself up, and he gave a glare as he pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them to the side. “I guess I’ll just kill you then. But I’ll give the pretty sword one more chance to join me and live.”

“Oh shut up!” Virgil shouted at him his anger rising. “You can’t just take my partner!”

Remy seemed pleased with getting under his skin, “That’s up to him, no?”

Virgil grit his teeth, “Fine! Tell him Dee!”

Dee didn’t respond, but Virgil’s grip was forced to be released on the hilt as Dee’s human form moved to stand in front of him.

“Dee?” Virgil asked quietly.

“He makes a good point,” Dee shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets.

“And what point is that?”

“Living? The way I see it, as long as I’m your sword, we can’t win this fight. If I go with him at least I won’t die.”

Virgil felt like he had been kicked in the stomach.

“So you’re just going to throw everything away? Just like that?”

Dee moved closer to stand by Remy’s side. “Surviving and hanging with a witch? Way better than dying with you... Better than being around you in general.”

“Leave then!” Virgil shouted taking a step forward. “Leave like everyone always does! Go ahead and break your promise!”

“You broke a promise? I need some popcorn,” Remy smiled leaning on Dee’s shoulder.

Virgil found himself taking another step forward as he glared at witch before looking to Dee. “When my mom left, you swore you’d always stay by my side as my partner.”

Dee gave a shrug “Did you expect something else? I’ve been a liar since birth. So what are you going to do about it?” He reached out a hand mockingly. “Come on, hit me!”

Virgil moved close enough and set his hand in Dee’s. There was a short pause in which he basked in the radiance of Dee’s smirk before he let his human form go, and embraced his scythe form.

He heard Remy open his mouth to question in response, but Dee had already pulled Virgil’s blade through.

“You’re acting has gotten a lot better,” Dee praised as Virgil turned back to him human form.

Virgil shrugged, “I’m friends with Roman. It’s a consequence.”

Dee laughed and looked to where the dust had settled to reveal the purple soul- souls?

“There’s two?” Virgil asked in confusion.

“Hell yes!” Dee cheered grabbing them both before he offered one to Virgil. “Now we can both become Death Scythes at once!”

Virgil took the offered soul skeptically. “Why would a witch have two souls?”

“Stop thinking so loud. Bottoms up?”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile as he nodded, “Bottoms up.” He took a deep breath before putting it on his tongue, then vaguely aware of his oddly sweeter taste than most kishin eggs, he swallowed whole like a pill.

For a moment he felt nothing.

And then he felt everything.

He could feel the air, his heart, the power coursing through his veins- and then nothing.

He blinked and looked to Dee who looked as confused before a laugh hit his ears. He turned to see a black cat sitting a few feet away, a witch’s hat on its head. “What?” The cat asked. “Do I not taste good?”

Virgil’s brain wasn’t capable of a functioning response, so all he could do was watch as in a plume of smoke the cat vanished and Remy took its place.

“You’re a cat,” Dee stated. “Ass! You tricked us!”

“I never said I was a witch,” he shrugged with a smile.

“Damnit now we need to find more witches.”

Remy gave a bit of laugh which only caused Dee’s scowl deepened. “What?”

“Oh nothing babe,” he purred. “I’m just a cat with multiple lives, and now I’m down two of them. So you took two of my lives... I took your opportunity to become Death Scythes.” He gave a smirk. “I think it’s a fair trade.”

“What are you-”

“We fucked up,” Virgil realized as devastation set in. “The rule is, if you mess up on your last soul... you have to start over. We just lost one hundred and ninety eight kishin eggs... we fucked up.”

Dee shook his head in disbelief, “No, no. We- we can um- we can-”

“We fucked up,” Virgil said again. “We fucked up.”

Fuck.

~~~~

Episode One - Episode Two

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

Garou x reader

Hoevember #2 (this is trash. And im not proud of it)

You idly watch him in the shadows. Each time he beat the shit out of a hero, every time he walked aimlessly around looking for heros to just destroy, you were always watching. Right now you were watching him sit with a kid who was reading an hero encyclopedia. “Hey who’s that?” The kid asked Garou. Garou looked down from the sky to where the kid pointed to. You stood behind a tree not really trying to hide. I mean why would you, he knew you were watching him he actually caught you a couple of times. “Oh her. Some crazy chick.” He leant his head back to stare at the clouds. “Like a crazy ex girlfriend?” The boy asked and Garou nearly chocked on his breath. “Hell no!” Garou did admire your body but when he would get close to you, you would run away. You didn’t have enough courage to speak to him properly but you would buy him little bandages and food and leave it for him in some spots. He liked that you followed him, a hot girl flowing him around too shy to even approach him. You were teaching him. Today though, you had worked up enough nerve to approach him. You had made him food that morning and now that it was sunset it was already cold but you were just waiting for the perfect opportunity. But that kid was there. He’s just a kid YN, you can just punch him and he’ll go running away. No no you can’t hit kids! Just ignore the boy. You took the first step from behind the tree and nearly trembled when Garou stared at you. Your legs wobbled as you took small slow steps towards him. Garou got up though and started to walk away leaving the boy alone. You froze as you watched him leave the park. The boy ran up to you and started interrogating you. “What’s your business with him?” “Who are you?!” You stammered on one word as he kept asking you questions. Garou now lost from your view 😔. You pouted and decided to walk away. You hung your head as you walked away, sad that the first time you were not afraid to talk to him he walked away. You walked down the block, eyes glued to the ground and feet dragging against the concrete. Your wrist was yanked into an alleyway, nearly tripping over your own feet as you were pulled aggressively. Your mouth covered by a big palm and body pressed against the dirty brick wall. “What do you have in there?” The stranger asked you about the bag you carried food in. His hand removed itself from your lips allowing you to speak. “F-f-food” you stuttered out of fear. “Oh, for who?” His voice was right at your ears the breath from his mouth hit the bottom of your ear. “M-my b-boy f-friend.” You lied. “What his name?” The man asked again, pressing his body against yours. You bit your lip, fearful of lying about dating Garou to a random stranger. “G- Garou.” You whimpered out. “You don’t say?” The man let go of you and grabbed the bag. You turned and your eyes were filled with hearts 😍. Garou was digging through the bag, he pulled out a bento and a fork you left for him. He opened the food and his eyes widened. “This looks amazing.” He closed it back up and rubbed your head. Your eyes unable to leave him, taking in the best sight you’ve ever seen. His smile, he was smiling at you. Garou then grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the alleyway. Pulling you along the street taking to you to an unknown destination. You couldn’t faght back but the touch of his warm hands was too good. He was so close and you didn’t want him to get any farther from you. His hand slid down to yours and entangled his fingers in yours. Your heart wanted to soar through the sky. Hand in hand down the block. 🥰 it was like one of your dreams. One of your sfw dreams 😏. You imagined baby angels around you singing and playing little angel instruments. You jogged closer to him and hugged his arm. Resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t even push you off, no flinching or complaints. You tried to hide the big ugly grin that was creeping onto your face. As you both continued walking you noticed the buildings began to look too familiar. Once you rounded the corner you saw your apartment complex and you nearly stopped walking.

When entering the building your body began to sweat. You didn’t want him to leave just yet. And what about seeing him again? Everything was happening too fast, you wanted time to slow down. Like real slow. When he stopped at the elevator you hugged him tighter. As the elevator descended down so did your heart. You prayed in your head for just something to happen to make him stay. When the elevator dinged and opened you were pulled out of your thoughts as people exited the small box. You pouted as you both entered and just stood quietly. He pressed the button to your floor and you briefly wondered how he knew what building and floor you lived on. Maybe you can pretend that you left your keys in the house and locked yourself out. He wouldn’t believe that. His arm removed itself from your grasped which made you whine a little like a baby but you stopped when he only changed positions. Putting his arm over your shoulders and pulling you closer to his body. Your heart rate sped up and you moved closer. Your nose took in every whiff of him 😤🤤. The elevator stopped and opened allowing you both to exit. Before you can walk down the hall to your door you stopped him. He looked down at you confused. “I- I don’t want to go home just yet.” You said quietly. He put the food down and pushed back your curly hair to get a good look at you. You buried your face in his chest and held into him. You’ve waited to long to touch and talk to him. It’s only been about 15 minutes since the park. It wasn’t enough for you. “I’ll go in with you.” He said rubbing your back. Instant smile across your face 😀. Like a phsyco trying to look nice. You pulled him to your door and quickly unlocked your door and once again pulling him. It was a nice single bedroom apartment. Your parents got it for you when they went overseas to London. You’ve been on your own since sophomore year of high school. Now a senior, you we’re accustomed to living alone. You never had guest over so you wanted to impress Garou, a lot. You took the food and transferred it to a pan and let it heat up in the oven. You grabbed your nice plates, cups and silverware. You poured him sparking water and brought it to him. “So what’s with the stalking?” He asked suddenly. You blushed and almost didn’t answer. “You were never approachable until you were with that kid. I was just waiting on a opportunity to say hi but heros would always harass you.” You gritted your teeth at the word heros. You put the water away and waited for his food to cook. Garou got up from his seat at the table and walked over to you. “So my girlfriend was afraid to approach me because of heros? You scared of them?” He gently pushed you against the counter. You blushed more at the word girlfriend. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to use that word before I just panicked.” You blurted out. “What word? Boyfriend? You don’t like me?” He wrapped his arms around your waist not wasting 😉 anytime getting real physical. “Of course I do! I just didn’t know it was you I was talking to. I think your food is ready.” You went to turn off the oven but he stopped you. He tugged you back to the counter and sat you on top of it. “How much do you like me?” He asked getting really close, setting himself between your thighs. “Enough to let you in my house.” You scratched your hair. “Yeah, you were really eager to let me in.” His hands slide up your thighs and you flinched under his hands. “I don’t like being home alone.” You told him trying to find something besides his face to look at. He was extremely close, his nose just barely touched yours and his hands were at your waist. “Hmm, so you like my company?” He said. “I like your presence yes. This is the first time being around you but I can also say I like your company.” You placed your hand on his chest to push him back some but feeling his muscles under his shirt surely distracted your thoughts. “So what do I have to do to get my girlfriend naked in the bed for me?” He said lifting your chin to stop your gaze at his body and to his eyes.

“Huh?” You we’re too busy filling your mind with nasty thoughts you didn’t hear a word he said. “I said, how intimate can we get? You already established that we’re together and I don’t take that lightly, there’s very few people I keep around me and you added yourself to that group of people. And seeing how you’ve been trailing behind me for a couple of months I’ll take that as the beginning of our relationship.” “A kiss!” I interrupted him. “I want a kiss, please.” He laughed a little before cupping my cheeks and stroking it with his thumb. For such a violent man he was so gentle. “Your shyness seems to come after your bluntness.” I was about to speak but he pulled me in for a kiss. No tongue, no caresses just our lips touching. A regular first kiss, well as regular as it could get. You weren’t expecting him to be a lustful beast, he was still an 18 year old boy and your were the same age. But it was really nice, his lips weren’t chapped or busted and he tasted like gum. Kids bubblegum, from the park. The kiss only lasted seconds, he pulled his head away and smiled. But it wasn’t enough for you. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, “another”. He didn’t give it a second thought. His lips were back on yours. The kiss more heated, lips moving against each other as his tongue fought with yours. He let you be the first to play in his mouth before he would make your lips sloppy from his saliva. Your left hand trailed down his arm until you reached his wrist and brought it under your skirt. When his fingers rubbed the location of your clit you jumped a little. It was invited but unexpected at the same time. Like inviting a friend over for lunch and they show up in a corn costume. His fingers put more pressure on your core as he felt you getting wet from the kiss. Your uniform skirt hiding his hand making every move he made under there a mystery until you felt it. He removed his lips and dragged his lips down to your neck. “Bedroom?” He asked you for directions. “End of hall.” He quickly picked you off the counter and carried you to the end of the hall. Your back hit the bed and he was so quick to get his shirt off. You followed suit and began to unbutton your uniform. Taking your time and being very careful not to pop any button since you had limited supply of school shirts. When you had the shirt off he gazed down at your body. Breast sitting pretty in your lavender bra. Garou lifted your legs and spread them, kneeling at the edge of the bed putting your cunt in his field of vision. “You should see how wet you are. But I’m sure you feel it. Do you feel embarrassed? It being your first time being intimate with someone and you’re so easily letting me go to town on you.” You gasped when he pulled the fabric down your legs. “How would you know that?” You covered your face. “I could’ve had plenty of people before you.” It was true, you were a very attractive, smart and easy going girl. “You’re not the only one whose been stalking sweetheart. And you’re not the first virgin to like bad boys. But do indulge me on one of your previous encounters. I would like to hear who about who was here before me.” He sounded a bit possessive, you shook your head. “Why not?” He spread your folds and watched the sheets darker under you. “I haven’t done anything like this with anyone.” You weren’t embarrassed at that since you didn’t see anyone as a romantic interest until you saw him. “Was you saving yourself for me?” He teased, prodding a finger at your hole making you squirm in discomfort. “I was saving myself for a hero, I got distracted by you.” You were lying but Garou didn’t like the sound of that. He stuffed his finger in you and added another when he didn’t get the reaction he wanted. You Squeaked from the new intruders. “Not cute.” He said. You hissed when he stretched his fingers apart. Your hands grasped his wrist. He got up still making “animal puppets” in your vagina. Unaware of his sweatpants discarded amongst the heap of clothes that piled up. U jumped, feeling it by his fingers.

You felt his penis work it’s way inside while his fingers stretched you open for him. You bit your bottom lip and tried to bare with the pain. “Ouch.” You say as he removes his fingers and slides his penis the rest of the way in. “Who was it going to be?” He shifted his weight over you, putting both hands by your head. He watched your face and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. You wiggled your hips a little trying to get yourself together but moaned from his thrust. He began to move after he saw you move and kept a slow and steady pace. “Who was it?” He asked you again, a little aggravated that he had to repeat himself and the thought of you liking a hero didn’t sit right with him. “Stinger,” you moaned out. His hips stopped moving when the name settled in his ears. “You liked that hero?” He said disgusted. As if he had his mind on someone else. “Maybe. But that was before I saw you.” Your arms put themselves around his neck as if they belonged there. “So I was the second choice?” He muttered. He scooped your legs over his shoulders and removed your hands, pressing them against the sheets. He said something else under his breath but you couldn’t hear him. He was just talking to himself out loud, while his dick just sat in you. A perfectly normal situation. His grip on your arm got stronger and it almost started to hurt. You could feel the strangling of your veins, your nerves picking up an odd pounding as the blood couldn’t circulate properly. “Garou.” You called to him softly. Your forearm raised and tapped his elbow. He wasn’t bothered by your voice or you touch. His hips rose and fell back down ripping a strangled groan from you. It was so sudden. His dick pounding away at your cunt. Both areas heating up rather fast. Sweat making the claps of hips sound wet while the sliding in and out of his girthy length made the most nastiest of sounds. Almost like playing with slime. It made your eyes roll back, your spine arch up and toes curl. Your nails scratched his sides and he moved, he let out little grunts from the pain but he didn’t stop or falter his penetration. He did however move up, grinding against you as his body held you down. He released your arms and pressed his chest against yours. Taking smaller, faster and harder thrust. It nearly gave you an immediate orgasm but it was missing something. Like a topping on a sundae. You moaned in his ear and he just loved to hear it. It was like music to his ears, a serenade of high pitch sounds emanating from your vocal cords. Your body begged for him to touch you with his hands, wanting more physical contact than he was giving. You moved your hand between your bodies, trying to sneakily touch your clit for extra help. Garou felt your hands wiggling down against him and quickly got the message. His hand beat you there and rubbed slowly up and down your clit. You shuddered and sank further under him. He basically had your whole body in his hand and was giving it gently loving strokes with the tip of his finger. Your was pulsed around him, clenching and unclenching his cock. “Feels good huh? Tell me what’s going through your mind right now.” You were so close to an orgasm you couldn’t even speak. But you did put some words together between the gumble of incoherent crap that was flowing out your mouth. “....good...stinger...better...” what you really said was ‘you feel so good~ I never liked Stinger (😡). You were always better.’ But of course it came out as if you were saying stinger was better. Garou sat up and pulled out. He flipped you onto your stomach and really let you have it. His hands struck your ass. You bit your lip hard, it was so pleasurable. His hands came down with a open palm. And you waited for it. Hands gripping the sheets and ass raised asking for more. After a couple of slaps he had you sitting on his lap, legs spread, back touching his chest with his fingers back to rubbing you. You bent your head over his shoulder letting out every sound that was made from you freely into his ear. His dick tapping your back as it throbbed behind your ass.

“Garou, just fuck me please. I’ve been waiting for a long time. I never like stinger, I always liked you. Please take me, any way you want.” You said reaching behind yourself to stroke him. He kissed the side of your neck. His palm rubbed your clit as his fingers fucked your hole. Your legs shut on his hand as you came on his fingers. Your held his wrist as your body spasmed and your back arched the opposite way making your body curl up. Garou got on his knees and helped you onto your back. Your hand came up to his hair and rustled it out of shape. His dick went inside you no problem. The slick between you made nasty sounds and made you feel sticky. “Oh Garou, you feel so good. Please more.” You cried. “Oh look whose the little chatter box all of a sudden.” His hips met yours with harsh, rough thrusts. You smiled to yourself but it was clear as day on your face. “You like that baby? It’s nice to know you’re a masochist.” He sat up and picked up your hips. I hands lifted and pulled your hips to meet his with each thrust. It drove you crazy, you couldn’t speak. He sped up and you felt the biggest urge to pee. “You’re getting really wet.” Your thighs jiggled as they shook, “oh FUCK!” He stopped suddenly and pulled out. Your lucky gushed your orgasm on him as he came over your woman hood. Panting heavily from your previous orgasm. “I like you a lot Garou. You’re the coolest villain I know of. I don’t care if you don’t want a relationship. I just want to be around you, I’ll be here for any of your needs.” You said out of breath. Garou kissed you, “you’re mine.” He growled out. You hugged him and gleefully giggled, excited at your new relationship.