#remember no jab no job?

[nostalgia-eh52]

We’ll just isolate you and your children, deny you access to public spaces, fire you and take away your ability to provide for yourself and your family.

You sound just like a workplace sexual predator - “I didn’t coerce her to sleep with me” - just threatened her livelihood if she didn’t. Choices have consequences though right?

[kayvsworld]

in honor of im1 rewatch 2024 can i just say. christine my beloved. christine my BELOVED! i miss her sm i think she’s underrated and (aside from yinsen ofc) one of the moral cores of im1. i love her. she is asking Questions from minute one and i love her. pls im lov her.

(i fully think she was investigating the weapons situation from the start - first thing we see her do after she wakes up is start snooping. she’s always asking questions just a little too direct. and then! at the gala!!! she confronts him DIRECTLY!!! and the accusation in her voice very clearly means she thinks tony is responsible for it and that the shutdown (and maybe even the kidnapping itself!!!) is a misdirect. in this moment she thinks he is behind this. she thinks he is dangerous. and she goes up to him and says “i am not falling for it” she’s so brave i love her. and then she’s snooping on the stairs directly behind stane and tony when they have that conversation. and then she’s the only one not surprised when he tells everyone that he’s iron man. she KNOWS she knows she knows. i’d kill and die for her.)

YEAH CHRISTINE MY BELOVED CHRISTINE OUR BELOVED she is a REPORTER she is GETTING HER ANSWERS. girl who walks directly up to the ceo of the weapons manufacturing company TWICE like "what do you have to say for yourself. answer quickly" icon legend icon

she finds out he's left his house for the first time in months and is like hi. remember me nice to see you. i'm here with photographic evidence of your company's complicity with terrorist activity, comment? comment?

and it's like. yeah she's RIGHT there IS no way that this is happening without his company's say-so there IS no way this is going on without someone signing off on it and he WOULD know about it, if it weren't for obie. like she's figured out what's going on before anybody else

she KNOWS SHE KNOWS SHE'S CONNECTING THE DOTS

CHRISTINE EVERHART YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

arey

[pixlerelish]

[houseisgay]

Tritter is history's scariest movie villian actually. I don't like him at all nope no thanks

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 3

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

The Joker came closer, almost inspecting the job (Y/N) had done. His eyes run over the Bat.

"Good job with the knots, my little Jester. That will keep him there for as long as we want!" The Joker exclaimed with a large grin. "Now, how did you get him here so fast! I must know!"

"I can't tell you, Dad! It would ruin the game. And we love the game!" (Y/N) explained. (Y/N) went up to the Joker and side hugged him. Bruce saw this and started struggling.

"What have you done to them! They said you 'Trained' them! I know you! Tell me now!" Bruce screamed.

The Joker's smile widened as he saw the Bat struggle. "Peanut, would you be so kind and get your dad something to drink? I am absolutely parched." The Joker said with honeyed words.

"Of course, dad!" (Y/N) said, jumping at the opportunity to please their dad. They ran out of the room hoping to get a drink as fast as possible.

"Look at them. I'm so proud of their growth. You know they were so sad when I first met them. They were only 5. They were looking for someone to talk to. Can you believe it, Bruce Wayne, ignoring one of his own while still taking in new kids. Can you imagine how that felt?!" Joker laughed unknowingly rubbing salt in Bruce's wounds.

"It was perfect, you know. Them being in such dire need of affection and not caring who it came from! A perfect opportunity for me to step in and take them away! At first, they resisted. Fought so hard not to succumb! They even called out for you. Did you know that!?" Joker confessed, stunning Bruce. Even after all he did, you still called out to him? You called for your dad, your real dad.

"It took a while to get them like this. Lots of training. Brutal, really. Though nothing I haven't done to you and your birds, just in a shorter period of time." Joker stated as if he was talking about weather and not torture. This shocked Bruce, remembering all the things the Joker did to his family. "How are they alive?!" Batman questioned.

"That's the funny thing, Bat! No matter what I did to them, they wouldn't die! They would get injured, but only a few seconds would pass, and then it would completely heal! I even cut off an arm, and as you can see, they have both now! Amazing, isn't it!" The Joker exclaimed. This stunned Bruce. (M/N)'s child was Meta? No. He would have noticed.

"Now, what is taking that child so long?" The Joker said brazenly.

With (Y/N)...

(Y/N) scrambled around looking for a bottle of water when someone came up behind them. They were suddenly grabbed and restrained. "The fuck!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "Relax it's just me. I'm here to save you." Jason whispered assuming (Y/N) would stop fighting when they heard it was him. (Y/N) struggled to move surprising Jason giving them a little wiggle room. (Y/N) jabbed their elbow into Jason's stomach pushing him back into a coughing fit.

With Jason off them, they turned around. "You aren't supposed to be here, Hood." (Y/N) stated glaring. They move their hands to their hip and pull out a small stick. They hit a button, and it enlarges to become a marotte.

(Y/N) swings at Jason as he tries to dodge, not wanting to hurt his sibling. This goes on until something pierces (Y/N) in the back of their nape. They start slowing down until they pass out.

"Took you long enough." Jason said flatly, going over to (Y/N). "They were putting up more of a fight than we all thought. I needed to get a clean shot." Damian claimed. He was lying to himself. He just wanted to assess how his older sibling fought, and from what he could tell, if they were taking this fight seriously, it wouldn't have ended well. "Let's just get them out of here. The others are waiting." Jason said, knowing that when he got to the manor, he would finally get to be the sibling they needed.

Giddy, he picked them up as if they were the most precious thing in the world and started leaving. "I'll go help dad." Damian said flatly as it seemed like a chore.

With Batman...

"Why? Why would you do those horrible things to a child?!" Bruce questioned. "For fun." The Joker spoke with a wolfish smile.

The door crept open, catching Bruce's eye. He saw his youngest creeping in the room. "You know I believe this is one of the only instances in which I would be willing to kill you." Bruce said, letting Damian he had permission to try and kill the Joker. "Really! I pushed you to that level with this one joke!? How wonderful! I will have to keep this in mind for later! Now, if only that bra -" a sudden gunshot stopped the Joker from finishing his sentence.

Blood rushed from the left side of Joker's face as he fell to the ground dead. "Where is your sibling?!" Bruce questioned with urgency. "They are on their way home with Hood. If we leave right now, we should be able to get there at the same time." Damian informed Bruce. "Good now untie me so we can leave. Your siblings got a mean knot." Bruce commanded.

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

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom

[dadsbongos]

my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow

5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)

summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.

~~~

“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”

Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.

Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.

The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.

“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”

“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.

Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”

Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”

“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.

“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.

“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”

“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.

“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.

“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.

Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”

“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”

“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”

“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”

“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.

“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”

“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.

“...no.”

He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”

“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”

“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?”

“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”

“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.

“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”

“Uh-huh… and that is?”

“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”

“No!” you gasp, dramatically.

“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”

“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”

“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”

“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.

Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”

“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”

“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”

As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”

“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”

“I just kissed you, greedy.”

His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.

You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.

“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”

“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”

“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”

Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.

Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.

“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.

“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”

“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”

“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”

“And you know that how…?”

“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”

His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.

You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”

Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.

One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.

‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’

He knows this means more.

“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”

You two never had a dog, though.

Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.

What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.

.

.

.

Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.

Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”

“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.

For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.

All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.

“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.

The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”

“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.

He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

…

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”

“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”

‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.

“Would you tell me if you died?”

“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.

You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,

“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”

He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”

“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”

“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”

“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.

Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.

You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.

…

“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”

“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”

Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.

“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”

“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”

The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.

The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.

Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.

Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.

“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.

“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.

(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)

“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”

You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,

“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”

Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”

“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”

“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.

“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”

“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”

Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.

But at least you’re a good mom.

Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.

Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.

On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.

Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.

Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.

That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.

(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)

…

Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.

“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”

Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”

“Dad.”

That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”

“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”

“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.

With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.

“What? Came to show off?”

Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”

Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”

“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”

She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”

“About what, Chilchuck?”

His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”

“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”

“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”

You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”

As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.

“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”

He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.

(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)

This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.

“She’s not coming into my home.”

Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”

“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”

He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”

“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.

Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!

“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”

“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.

“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.

“I know you can, but let me be nice.”

“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”

A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”

“Right.”

Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.

And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.

“So, what was she doing there?”

“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”

“Pretty against your usual tough front.”

“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”

“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”

“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”

Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”

“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.

“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”

You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.

“Do you have any idea why I left?”

“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”

“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”

“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”

His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.

“Chil…”

You revert to his first name.

“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”

It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.

“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”

“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”

“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”

“When?”

“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”

“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”

“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”

His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”

“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”

“She never told me that.”

“I told her not to.”

Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”

“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”

“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”

So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.

And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.

“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”

“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”

“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”

“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”

“Right.”

“But- !”

“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”

“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.

He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.

It might be.

“What now?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he replies.

Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)

“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.

This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.

“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”

“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”

“You really want that answer?”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”

“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”

“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”

“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”

“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”

Oh!

You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”

“Not even a little. Why would I be?”

“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”

Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?

Yes.

Does he still plan to?

Yes.

…

“You have a wife?”

“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”

Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”

Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”

“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”

“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”

~~~

+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

˗ˏˋ꒰ Say ‘I Love You’ ꒱ .

HOW THE FROSTHEIM BOYS WOULD ACT IF THEY HAD A CRUSH ON YOU. ft. jin kamurai, tohma ishibashi, lucas errant, & kaito fuji

wc : 2.5k

warnings : sfw, gender-neutral reader but implied afab for tohma's part

JIN is the definition of a cocky bastard. he acts high and mighty, always getting you to do the most insignificant tasks he can think of, all the while being a completely different person when it's just the two of you.

you have a test you need to study for? forget that. now you have to visit jabberwock to hand milk some beast king seal for his daily cup of tea.

if you're lucky and don't ask too many questions or take too long, you might get a sip. if he's in a good enough mood, he might even pour you a cup to commemorate a job well done. of course, this is rare when he prefers to share an indirect kiss without your knowing.

take a sip and position your lips wherever you want on the cup. he’s always going to put his own directly where yours were.

if he can’t sleep, he’s the type to wake you up at 3 am by phone call solely to have you look out the window to see the moon. he could fall asleep in the known presence of you, so calm and stable. just don't ask him if he’s going sentimental on you or he’ll hang up immediately without even wishing you a word.

don't let these small sweet moments fool you. the second you think he might be catching feelings, you see him out in public, and you’re nothing more than a fly on the wall that needs to be swatted (with utmost care).

even with his on-and-off attitude, he makes sure to become the lifeline you deserve. he can see that the second years don't exactly have the… disposition to take care of you as he could. lucas and the other one can try and protect you all they want, but he’ll be the only one to actually do something. he is the captain of frostheim for a reason.

the second you tell him about someone from his house even raising their voice at you, the best-case scenario is that they get shipped off to dig ditches in the desert for some mission and are gone for so long they have to retake the year.

of course, if you questioned the students' absence, he would wave you off, saying their families were too poor and needed their kids back home to help pay rent.

just remember, no matter how docile he may come off with you, the second someone else enters the room, those walls come shooting back up, acting as if he never caressed your hand, showing you how you could have easily checkmated him before he took out your queen and king all within four moves.

just pray it’s not tohma, or else jin would be taking jab after jab while trying to make him leave his room by any means necessary. all the while the vice-captain filled up your tea, sweet-talking you, and wondering why the door was locked while the two of you were alone all night; something you hadn't even noticed when coming in midday.

just hurry up and confess to jin already so tohma can stop his prying. he's not patient enough to deal with your mixed signals and dilly-dallying.

TOHMA wouldn't even try to cover how bad his excuses for everything were. it’s always going to be 50/50 on how realistic they sound. go fetch this work. go do this and that. he needs to help you study for an upcoming quiz. you need to try out this imported tea. blah, blah, blah.

there had been some minuscule to nonexistent complaints about the formal uniform at the dances and how it should be more elegant. buckle up because this man has ordered the most embarrassing things for you to try on.

the next week, there was a package filled to the brim with luxury clothes on your doorstep. the finest silk materials all adorned your body while he watched, camera and notes in hand. please excuse the quill in his hand writing everything everyone says; that’s just to track your true feelings. oh, the camera? it was for your candid reaction to pair with the pen. you really must work on masking your emotions more; maybe he could help you later.

starting off with a dress for someone your age was a nice start. nothing too sexy or childlike, being more on the modest side. the only skin showing were some ankles, chest, and all of your arms. the next few would be similar, only to ease you into a false sense of security.

somewhere sandwiched in the middle of the modeling session would be dresses tighter and smaller. you felt like your whole body was on display with him, the push-ups on your chest only contributing to your stress. when you asked tohma, he said he had no idea about when he ordered—as if he hadn't done research prior and took quick photos as you came out, pretending to act shocked when he saw the revealing clothing.

oh, the dress has a bit too much skin? well, that’s all the rage from what the female poll said they wanted for their dress uniforms. they did pay for their bodies; they should show them off.

to him, this was your way of opening up to him. if he's already gotten a sneak peek of what you have to offer, then what’s stopping him from seeing the rest? after all, you and he would complement each other so well.

not to mention he would work tooth and nail out of all his free time, dedicating it to figuring out how to get you to confess to him. he would never put his feelings on the line and somehow get rejected by someone like you.

you had to go to a random anomaly library to search for an anomaly book? that’s not too hard.

wrong.

two hours after being stuck in the never-ending location, and a mental breakdown later, tohma already secured the book without your knowledge. now he’s just waiting and making small talk, trying to rip out any piece of information he could use to make you sink your teeth into his hold on you.

both figuratively and literally, you were being brought together. the deeper you went into the library, the closer the shelves seemed to be.

when he had the chance to put the book on the highest shelf, watching the way your face lit up, he almost felt guilty putting this much effort into his plans. but you had to realize your feelings for him, not the other way around.

when you went to grab the anomaly book—along with the massive stack of books it was placed upon—it came avalanching down. instead of being swallowed alive by pages, you were pressed tight against the vice-captain, his shoulder saving you from your doom.

what you didn’t know was how tohma plastered your scent in his mind so he could hopefully find whatever perfume, shampoo, or just your smell somewhere.

LUCA would be the sweetest thing if he liked you. he would, of course, deny these feelings, thinking, or understanding them as platonic.

he would make you feel like you were in a classic, unproblematic, 90s shoujo manga. you could practically see the rose petals following him around whenever he’s with you.

it wouldn’t matter whether he recognizes his feelings or not or if he acts on them; no matter what, you’re going to feel special and wanted.

often, he would find you perusing the halls and randomly start a conversation. he would tell you about the differences between darwick and the uk campus, trying to find a reason to talk just so you wouldn’t leave. sometimes he finds himself purposely getting lost to spend just a couple of extra minutes with you.

he probably has some phone tracking app on you just in case something bad happens. of course, he would manipulate it in his favor—nothing bad, truly just misguided—so he could “accidentally” bump into you.

he’d probably subconsciously check his phone every few minutes hoping you texted him or anything. if you hadn’t seen him in a while due to being stuck at other houses for missions, he would use his favorite app at the moment to send a ‘stay safe!’ message for you to respond to and tell him how it’s going.

when you meet up, whether it be after a class or a whole week, he would, of course, grab your bags and make sure you're feeling alright. your feet hurt? here, get on his back. you have a migraine? here, have some medicine and a nice head massage.

what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t give his friends the courtesy of being comfortable?

he would take you to sho’s food truck, ren’s job, the cafeteria, or anywhere to have an excuse to spend more time with you (same goes for subaru).

100% a gentleman and doesn’t believe in splitting the tab 50/50. he invited you and you took the time out of your busy schedule to meet up with him.

yeah, there’s no way you're pitching in even a cent. he has money and he isn’t afraid to spend it on you.

he will open the doors for you and wait with bated breath as you walk by, thanking him each and every time.

he will treat you how you should be treated. he believes in the golden rule of treating others how you would like to be treated or how they would treat you, and you’ve shown him nothing but kindness. all he can do now is return the favor of being his first friend at this new school.

at one point, when his feelings were developing, he took them to yuri. instead of realizing any feelings, he thought your curse might cause him heartburn, only to be met with the doctor shoving him out and telling him to figure out his feelings before wasting his time on sappy romance.

it's safe to say everyone but luca knows about his feelings for you.

when he did realize his feelings were more than platonic, he cranked up that gentleman's act by one thousand.

you know those classic suave princely characters? that’s him to a t. patient and caring all without acting like a father and instead a friend.

if you did date him, it could only work out. it would be like dating your best friend, but not in an incestuous friendship-type way. an actual budding romance, no strings attached, but true undeterred love.

he would wait until he had completely understood his feelings until trying to make “moves” on you. think of things he’s heard kaito say to girls he’s trying to flirt with. suffice to say it only made you laugh.

instead of forcing you to confess to him like the rest, he’d much rather stake his emotions on the line than yours. he just wants you to be happy, even if it comes in the form of rejection or love. as long as you’re happy, he’s happy, whether that be as friends or something more.

be prepared to just enjoy time with him. if you do or don’t romantically like him back, it doesn’t matter. no matter what, you’re just going to be genuinely happy.

even if he’s not the best at picking up signs or reading people, he’s still going to be making sure you’re enjoying yourself.

his brother has already disappeared; he needs to cherish every moment with you, even if it’s one-sided, as friends, or as lovers.

KAITO'S unofficial love language is making you watch movies to make you fall in love with him.

scary movies? you can cling onto him, squealing into his big, strong, herculean muscles. romcom? maybe that can get you in the mood to stare at his plump lips and share your very first kiss. action? maybe you two can try and replicate a scene and accidentally fall on top of him, staring into his deep cerulean orbs, realizing he was always the one for you, not luca.

he is the most unorganized and delusional of the frostheim boys.

he will probably plan a few minutes in advance and, if not, he will get in his head and forget how to talk to you.

the most he’ll plan ahead of time is explaining how you two need to sleep in a bed together because he can't sleep in a pew of the church.

see, once you two finish binging a movie series, he can sleep and spend the night at your place. walking back is just too hard and dangerous at night, you know? besides, just one night in your small bed wouldn’t hurt. it would just end up with you two waking up in each other's loving embrace, confessing your undying love for each other.

in reality, he was scared he would accidentally fart or kick you as you slept and was too afraid to even move. he slept on the corner of the bed while hiding under the covers, trying to ignore the creepy shadow-like monsters of your room.

he has tried and failed to change his personality to match every single one of your interests, only to fail miserably. trust me, if you post a lot, he will stalk you back to your first-ever post by accident and have a mental breakdown after liking the post.

he wouldn't speak to you for a week after the incident until you liked his first-ever post to somewhat ease the burn.

the same goes for if you see him zoning out on you. do not try and provoke him in the wild as he watches you walk from class to class. if you even make eye contact, he's shriveling up to a prune.

unfortunately, everyone in the area sees him making an effort to stalk you and endlessly teases him for it.

even if he doesn’t necessarily look it, he will protect you. if you even seem somewhat stressed with a mission, he will be running across campus to help you out, no matter what the other house says.

he wouldn’t be a lap dog for you, more so an eager friend. not in a hundred years will he let you be stalked or threatened if someone took an interest in you. not on a yandere level, just a worried friend who would steamroll someone if need be, even if he had to fight. he will suck it up for you.

hopefully, you are genuinely interested in ranting or are a master at tuning things or people out because this man is insane. he will tell you all about his day while saying nothing at the same time.

he will send you his entire for you page and count down the seconds from when he posted to when you liked it. god forbid you take a day or week because you’re busy. if a form of snapchat exists in darwick, your streak will be insane. literally, how you track the number of days you started at the school.

“you forgot to open one.”

[selineram3421]

Deer Demon Child Headcanons

Part 2

Part 1

Alastor & Child Reader

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ protective Alastor, mention of nightmares, ugh..Valentino mention, stabbing mention, mention of food-crepes and strawberries ⚠

The hotel guests and staff are all very protective of you.

At first the hazbin group thought that the Radio Demon would have trouble seeing to your needs but were surprised to see him do a really good job.

Whenever you're eating and manage to get food around your mouth, Alastor is always prepared with a napkin to wipe it away. Reminding you of your manners too.

"Now remember ma petite, you mustn't make a mess while eating."

"Ok."

Husk takes care of you when everyone else is busy. It happens quite often but he doesn't mind since you're mostly coloring or reading a book.

He keeps juice at the bar for you and has cups just for you as well. Most of the "fancy cups" are tea set cups and fake glass cups. All plastic.

He does worry about you sometimes because you like soft fluffy things. The cat demon has seen you stare down Alastor's ears.

It happened once, but he saw his boss holding you while going downstairs and you touched the deer ear. Husk was worried that Alastor would drop you then and there but was surprised to see him let it happen.

"What the fuck."

"Watch your words Husker."

Husk still lets you know to be careful and then teaches you how to play cards.

Vaggie is a little wary around you but after your story warms up to you. She is careful whenever carrying her spear around you.

Angel lets you play with Fat Nuggets and takes pictures whenever you take naps or play dress up with the little pig.

"Put matching bows!"

Pentious is extra careful around you, especially since Alastor smiles creepily at him whenever he sees him. He'll make you a little music box out of some spare parts he had on his warship.

You often play with the egg bois. Tea parties, dress up, and treasure hunting. The egg bois follow you around like ducks whenever you are around their boss.

Being dubbed as Alastor's child, you are well taken care of and he spoils you whenever he gets the chance. It doesn't help that Rosie also spoils you whenever Alastor brings you to Overlord meetings.

Carmilla and her daughters always set out crayons and paper for you, also having a chair made for you to have a seat at the table.

Zestial colors with you and brings you chocolate, sometimes lets you wear his hat.

The other Overlords warm up to you and greet you every time you tell them good morning.

Vox, surprisingly showed up to a meeting once alone and saw you, the little deer that you are. He laughed and jabbed at your nose.

"Who let you in here squirt?"

He pushed on it too hard and that made you tear up and cry out in pain.

Alastor immediately threw him across the room and picked you up. Scolding himself for being distracted while consoling you.

"It hurts!"

"It's alright, I've got you now.", he says and rubs your nose lightly to get the pain to go away.

"What the hell!? This is supposed to be neutral ground during-!", the television demon did not notice all the other Overlords glaring at him with murderous intent until he looked up. "...meetings...."

Yeah, he doesn't try that again and warns the other V not to mess with the kid.

You make sure to stay away from the V's after that and glare at Vox whenever you see him.

Valentino is gross and Alastor, along with the other Overlords, make sure you stay away from the moth.

Velvette draws you an outfit but keeps it hidden. She finds you adorable but also doesn't go near you.

Alastor uses his shadow to steal the drawing. He finds out about it at some point but it was a total coincidence.

It's not bad and has Rosie make it.

Velvette is confused and enraged, because how the hell do you have her outfit she designed!? Who stole it!?

"WHERE THE FUCK IS IT!?"

Alastor finds it funny and notices that the smallest V is absent from the meetings, no doubt trying to find who stole the design.

Alastor skips out on a meeting due to you having a nightmare the day before. You woke up crying, saying it was about your father and mother fighting.

He does his best to calm you down and sings to you softly.

"It was just a dream.", he rubs your back.

"I don't wanna go back to sleep.", you whimper.

Then he sings you a song, What We Have Is You by Sterling K. Brown (Yes it's from Kipo, I love that show.)

"We may not have sunshine, or starlight, or weather.

But we've got each other, and that's even better.

You don't need the sun to keep you warm when you've got arms.

Wishes come from you and not a random shooting star."

You sleep peacefully after that and while making sure you're alright, Alastor checks up on the human news again, grin growing wider after finding out your father was stabbed in prison.

The next morning, Alastor is cooking breakfast with some soft jazz playing.

"And I want strawberries!", you say, pointing at the fruit on the counter.

"Alright my little deer.", he replies, sending his shadow to cut up some of the fruit for the crepes he's making.

Many readers asked for this part 2. So here it is!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie

more in the comments+

ML II Alastor🎙️

[everythingne]

christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]

Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.

warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

prev | next

-

You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.

"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.

"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.

"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.

"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.

"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.

"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.

"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.

"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"

"[And how come Danny knows?]"

"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"

"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"

"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"

"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.

"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.

"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."

"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"

"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.

"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.

"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"

"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.

"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.

"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.

"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.

"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."

You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.

--

You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.

"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.

"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."

"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.

"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"

"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."

"Because you're dating?"

"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"

"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.

"I know!" You huff.

Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,

"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."

Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."

Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.

"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."

"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.

"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."

Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.

"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"

"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."

"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."

"We're lucky we were only kissing."

"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.

"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."

"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--

"What?!"

"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."

"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.

"Carlos and Danny know." You say.

"Mhm."

"And... Carlos is your best friend--"

"--Arguably--"

"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."

"Uh-huh."

"...What if we ask them for help?"

"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.

"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.

"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."

"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."

"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."

--

"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.

"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"

"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."

"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."

"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.

"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."

You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."

"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.

"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"

"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.

"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.

"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.

"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."

"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.

"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."

"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."

"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.

"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."

"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.

"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"

The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.

And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.

-

y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴

liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..

y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3

joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT

user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??

maxverstappen: i still don't know who

charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film

charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴

liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...

charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.

user2: get me someone who will do this for me.

danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.

⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes

⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.

⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse

⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no

⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do

⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???

⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??

user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?

ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward

⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.

⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.

⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward

⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!

charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴

charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.

arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.

y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.

maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?

⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow

⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh

landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.

⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.

ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴

y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently

charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature

danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL

⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles

⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(

maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?

⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!

charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy

-

And by god, it starts working.

You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.

"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."

"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.

"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.

"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.

"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."

As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.

"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"

"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.

"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.

"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.

"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.

"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,

"Be more discreet, maybe?"

And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.

Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.

-

and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.

Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.

taglist. thank you!

@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash

[yxngbxkkie]

mechanic's shop

this airport look gives me such mechanic vibes that i had to write something on it 🤭 this is actually really fucking cute, and i hope you guys like it 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You're nervous. Extremely nervous. you park your vehicle in the mechanic shop's parking lot, eyeing the semi-large building. You've never been to the mechanics by yourself.

When you had car problems before, your boyfriend was kind enough to take it for you. Now that you're single, you have no choice but to take it yourself. You didn't know any friends who had car knowledge like your ex did.

A deep breath comes from your lips as you internally hype yourself up. “There's no one else here,” you talk to yourself, eyeing the empty parking lot. You shut your vehicle off before getting out, pressing the lock button.

You walk into the building, scrunching your nose at the dingy smell. You move to stand in front of the desk, tapping the bell they have sitting on the counter. You wait until someone shows up, slipping your hands into your front pockets.

“Can I help you?” A voice asks, snapping you from your internal thoughts.

You lift your head, your eyes meeting a pair of dark ones. “Hi,” you mutter, clearing your throat. “Uhm, I'm sorry. I'm new to this, uh, do you think you'll be able to look at my car?”

The man in front of you giggles while adjusting the black beanie on his head. “I can do that, yeah. Do you know what's wrong with it?” He asks, walking around the desk.

You hiss and cross your arms across your chest while leading him to your vehicle. “I wish I knew what it exactly was,” you sigh. “I was driving it home last night, and the steering wheel started to shake. Like, a lot.”

“Hm, okay. When you were driving home,” he pauses, holding his hand out to take your car keys, “were you driving at a low or high speed?”

You hand him your keys, unlocking the vehicle for him first. “It was a low speed. I think I was going about forty,” you answer his question.

“Okay,” he nods, opening the driver's side door. “I'll bring it into the shop and take a look at it. Oh, my name is Chris, by the way.”

You smile at him, nodding your head as well. “Nice to meet you, Chris. Is it alright if I wait inside?” You ask, jabbing your thumb in the direction of the building.

“Absolutely. There's water in there if you're thirsty,” he smiles before lowering himself into the seat.

“Thank you so much,” you bow your head, clapping your hands together.

You watch him drive your car into the shop before heading back into the waiting room of the building. You pull your phone out of your back pocket and take a seat in one of the chairs.

When checking your phone, you notice a text message from one of your friends.

From: Hyunie 🎨

Hey! What are you doing tonight?! Felix and I are going to a bar and want you to come with us! Please go 🥺

A chuckle leaves your lips at Hyunjin's desperation, shaking your head slightly while typing out a reply.

To: Hyunie 🎨

The only way I can go is if this mechanic job isn't costly 😭 Ya girl's car is fucked

You lift your head after sending the text, locking your phone right after. You watch Chris through the window in the shop, tapping your nails against the back of your case.

“Shit, he's really pretty,” you say to nobody, forcing yourself to look away from him.

The device in your hands vibrates, indicating that Hyunjin texted you back. You flip the phone over and open the notification, a louder laugh escaping your lips.

From: Hyunie 🎨

Girl, you need a new fucking vehicle I SWEAR 🙄 Felix and I will cover your tab! One of our friends is also coming, and I think the two of you would be so cute together 🫢

You groan, slapping your face with your hand. Another groan comes out not even a few seconds later. You thought he was done trying to set you up with people. You're dead wrong.

To: Hyunie 🎨

I thought we were done trying to set me up?? Hyun, remember what happened last time? 😭

From: Hyunie 🎨

I know! I know, but I PROMISE this time is different! He's a good friend of mine, and he's such a green flag

You tilt your head back, not knowing if you wanna put yourself through this again. The last time Hyunjin set you up with someone, you got stood up. Then, when you went to confront the guy, he insulted you.

To: Hyunie 🎨

If I don't like him in the first hour, I'm leaving 😤

From: Hyunie 🎨

DEAL, OH MY GOD! OKAY! Text me later if you end up needing a ride! Love you! 🥰

Another laugh escapes your lips after reading Hyunjin's text. “What a crackhead,” you giggle, pushing yourself up from the chair and moving closer to the window.

You slip your phone back into your pocket before crossing your arms over your chest as you watch Chris inspect your vehicle. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze through the glass pane.

You provide a shy smile, and he returns it, wiping his hands with a rag that was tucked in his back pocket. He walks over to the door that separates the two rooms, opening it before leaning against the frame.

“Good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” He asks with a smile, motioning for you to follow him.

“Am I… Am I allowed in here?” You ask nervously, following the man into the shop.

Chris chuckles and waves his hand. “I own the shop, so, yes,” he jokes with you, reassuring you that it was okay.

You mumble a quiet, “okay,” as you stop just before your car. Chris continues moving to stand underneath it. “I'll take the bad news first.”

“Bad news,” he pauses, grabbing the clipboard that's hanging from one of the metal poles. “I'm going to have to keep your car overnight.”

Of course, that'd be the bad news. You think to yourself and release a light sigh. “And the good news?” You question, clasping your hands together.

“Thankfully, your suspension is fine. The cause of the vibrations is because your tires are unbalanced,” Chris explains, causing you to blink at him in confusion.

“I–” you cut yourself off, not knowing what the hell this attractive man is talking about.

Chris chuckles and walks back over to you. He rubs your shoulder gently and goes over it again in terms you understand. “It won't cost very much either if you're worried about that,” he mentions, writing on the paper attached to the clipboard. “The reason you won't get your vehicle back until tomorrow is because my tire guy isn't here today. He comes in at eight tomorrow morning, and I'll have him work on your vehicle so I can get it back to you as quickly as possible.”

“I appreciate it,” you whisper, relieved that it won't cost you an arm and a leg.

“If you want to put your number on here,” he hands you the clipboard, pointing at the box where your number is needed, “I can call when it's all fixed.”

You nod your head, taking it from his hands. After jotting down your phone number, you hand the clipboard back to him. Chris thanks you before leading you back out into the waiting area.

“Do you have someone to call for a ride? I go on my lunch in a few minutes if you need to get home,” he offers, writing your information in the books.

“I can call someone,” you assure him, smiling. You pull out your phone again, clicking on Hyunjin's contact. “I thank you again for this. If you haven't noticed… I've never done this before.”

He chuckles while shaking his head. “It's okay! I'm glad that I was able to help you,” Chris mentions, leaning against the desk.

You bow again before leaving the shop. You call Hyunjin's phone, pressing the device against your ear.

“Hey, Y/N, what's up?” His voice comes through the receiver.

“I need a ride,” you pout, releasing a giggle afterward.

Hyunjin laughs as well, hearing Jisung in the background. “Okay! I'm gonna send Hanji because I need to finish this. That's okay?” He asks.

“That's fine. I'm at,” you pause, glancing towards the sign. “Five-Star Auto.”

“Oh, okay! I'll let Jisung know. He's putting his shoes on,” he mentions, hearing him tell Jisung where you are. “He's on his way! I'll pick you up tonight at six, okay?!”

You laugh and agree before the two of you bid each other goodbye.

-

You're running around your apartment, trying to finish getting ready before Hyunjin arrives with Felix. You're nervous to find out the person Hyunjin's setting you up with. All you hope is that he's nicer than the last guy.

Your phone goes off, quickly checking it to see a message from Felix. Shit, they're here. You send a text, telling them that you'll be down in a minute.

After checking yourself in the mirror for the fifth time, you slip on some shoes before heading to the lobby of your apartment building. You speed walk out the main doors, finding Hyunjin's car immediately.

You slip into the backseat, greeting the two men sitting up front. “Thanks again for picking me up,” you chuckle, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.

Felix turns in his seat, smiling at you as Hyunjin pulls back on the road. “We're super excited that you're coming out. It feels like we haven't hung out in forever,” he laughs, his gaze going from you to Hyunjin.

“That's because it's been like a month,” Hyunjin groans, glancing at you through the rear view mirror.

“I'm sorry,” you laugh, combing your fingers through your hair. “I took the breakup pretty hard.”

Felix hums, nodding his head. “He was a dickhead. You didn't deserve any of that,” he sympathizes with you.

“It's okay,” you reassure the blonde, placing a hand onto his shoulder. “I've realized my worth, and he's not worth my tears.”

Hyunjin reaches behind you, patting your bare leg. “I'm so proud of you!”

The drive to the bar doesn't take very long. Twenty minutes max. The three of you walk into the dimly lit place together, keeping your hand on Hyunjin as you work your way through the crowd.

“The person I want to set you up with is already here,” Hyunjin almost screams, making sure you hear him over the music and patrons.

You feel yourself getting nervous as you look around. When Felix finally finds the table your mystery date is sitting at, you peek over Hyunjin's shoulder to get a good look at him. A sharp gasp leaves your lips as you find yourself looking at a familiar face.

Chris. You move to stand beside Hyunjin, showing yourself to him, and you watch his eyes widen. You shyly smile, waving your hand cutely.

“Hi, Chris,” you giggle, feeling the tips of your ears grow warm.

Both Hyunjin and Felix's jaw drops, their eyes dancing between you and Chris. “Wait, you know each other?!” Hyunjin asks, wiggling his index finger.

Chris moves over, patting the spot beside him for you to sit. You sit down in the booth, resting your arms on the table. “We just met today, actually. She brought her car to the shop,” he explains as the duo sits across from you two.

“I figured you would've put two and two together when I told you I needed to be picked up from there,” you laugh.

Felix slaps Hyunjin's arm, a playful scoff coming from his lips. “You pabo,” he laughs as well, standing back up from his seat. “First rounds on us!”

The two leave you and Chris alone, disappearing into the crowd. Silence fills the space around you, fumbling with your fingers.

“You look really pretty,” he compliments you, his eyes trailing down your body.

You blush at his words, dipping your head down. “Thank you,” you say loud enough, leaning into him slightly. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

Chris giggles, becoming a blushing mess as well. Another moment a silence happens, and you kick yourself that you can't find anything to talk about.

“I'm sorry I'm a little awkward,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him.

He shakes his head, and he smiles softly at you. “It's okay. I can be a little awkward too,” he says, meeting your gaze. “I haven't been on a date in over a year, so I'm a bit rusty.”

“A year?” You ask in disbelief. How has this gorgeous man been single for over a year? You think to yourself, leaning your head against the palm of your hand. “You're such an attractive guy. I'm honestly shocked.”

Chris laughs some more, finding yourself giggling at how cute his laugh is. “You flatter me, really,” he says shyly, running his fingers along the column of his neck. “I work a lot, so I don't really have time for a relationship. Plus, the last person I dated kinda fucked me up a bit.”

You feel for him, being in a relatable situation yourself. “I get it,” you inform him, your lips formed in a tight smile. “I had something similar happen to me recently. Hyunjin's been consistent in trying to set me up, so I'll be happy again.”

“Am I the first one?” Chris asks, his hands slowly reaching out towards yours.

“Unfortunately, no,” you groan, flashbacks of the past two people you saw. “But, I will say that you're my favorite so far.”

He grins ear to ear, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “Yeah? Then, I'm glad,” Chris giggles.

You allow him to play with your hand, getting butterflies as he drags his fingertips along your palm. “Has anyone told you just how adorable you are?” You sigh, feeling yourself falling for him already.

“A couple of people have,” he answers, his gaze steady on your conjoined hands.

“It honestly makes me want to kiss you,” you whisper to him, not sure if he heard you.

Chris’ breath hitches in his throat, slowly lifting his head to see your eyes on him. “I mean… I won't, uh, you can if you want,” he stammers over his words, his ears turning red.

You're surprised he's going with it. You didn't know if you're moving too fast, but he seemed to feel the same way you do. “I don't want to make things uncomfortab–,” you attempt to say when Chris cuts you off.

His lips find a place on the corner of your mouth, the words dying on your tongue. Your heart pounds against your chest while squeezing his hands. You blink a couple of times as Chris pulls back.

Your free hand moves to the nape of his neck, pulling him back in. Your lips connect with his, finding yourself scooting closer to him. Chris releases the old on your hand, resting it on your bare thigh.

The kiss only lasts for about thirty seconds, pants leaving your lips afterward. He rests his forehead on yours before giggling softly.

“Your lips are soft,” he whispers, stroking your thigh with his hand.

Someone clearing their throat causes the two of you to pull away from each other. You glance to your right, seeing Hyunjin and Felix standing at the end of the table. Hyunjin smirks at you while sliding your drink in front of you.

“I take it you like him,” he says with a laugh, wiggling his brows.

You press your lips together and glance back towards Chris. “You did good this time,” you giggle, leaning into his shoulder.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[stinkyturd]

Your Fragrance

Pairing: Romeo Lucci/Reader

Comments: It's Romeo, so it's gonna be a little possessive and weird. If that makes you uncomfortable, this probably isn't your cup of tea. Also, I absolutely hate naming throwaway characters, but I did here to avoid confusion, haha. So, if for some reason you're second guessing if you're misremembering a canon side character, you're not. 🙂‍↕️

Working for Romeo could be exhausting.

The Sinostra vice-captain always had something for you. Be it helping out with casino security, sending out reminders for outstanding loans, or doing menial errands like fetching him various products he may need to keep his skin hydrated or his hair in mint condition. Sometimes he'd even message you at ungodly hours when you were tucked away, seconds from slumbering at your cathedral. 

Overall, you didn't mind. It's not like you HAD to do it. Darkwick hadn't been quite as needy with sending you out on inspector related errands, so you had the time, and you didn't mind Romeo's company. Sure, his personality is completely abrasive and an acquired taste, but underneath it all he had some redeeming qualities. And for some reason he chose you to hire as an assistant. You didn't get paid much. In fact, it was lower than minimum wage. You're pretty sure you could get a part-time job around the campus that would be far more fruitful with less work. 

And now that you were on consistent speaking terms, it was a lot easier to find ways to get under his skin. It was kind of fun pushing him to that level of irritation just before it all boils over. Oddly enough, a scrunched up scowl really highlighted his devastatingly pretty features. You're not sure you've seen anything quite like it on anyone else before. 

Right now, you are sitting next to him on the massive sectional sofa in the VIP room, listening to him rant about trivial anecdotes while you check his email for him. 

"I don't want to deal with these degenerates speaking to me any longer!" Romeo huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You need to establish a precedent in this place that no one should talk to me without pre-approved incentive!"

Your eyes remain locked on the laptop in front of you as you attempt to read over a document sent to you by one of the vice-captain's subordinates, while still acknowledging Romeo's ramblings. "I can give it a shot. What happened this time?"

"A fool from Frostheim came in this morning. That USP told me that the new cashmere divan I purchased for the lobby is tacky! What the fuck does he know about quality luxury...?! That buffoon probably washes his face with hand soap, if he does at all!"

You smirk a little at that, clumsily scrolling the page in front of you with just a trackpad. "Is he a regular?"

"Yes, it's that idiot that always sits at the table by the high limit slots! The one with those shitty, thick-framed, square glasses!" Romeo leans back into the sofa, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Oh...?" Your lips tug into a mischievous smirk. "I think I remember that guy. Dark hair, super clear skin? Has good taste in cologne?" The student he's referring to does actually have dark hair. You remember because it's not the first time Romeo has complained about him. The rest of the description you gave is entirely fabricated. 

You catch a glimpse of the vice-captain's reaction in your peripheral vision. If looks could kill.

Romeo narrows his fuchsia eyes at you. "Have you lost your mind?! Clear skin?" The vice-captain leans in close, jabbing a gloved finger to his face. "This! This is clear skin!"

"Oh, for real?" You don't look up as you suppress a shit-eating grin, tapping away at the keyboard in front of you. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, nitwit! I can't have my BB of an assistant prancing around thinking that some Frostheim pig's face even compares to mine!" Romeo removes the laptop from your lap, setting it on the low-profile table in front of you.

You flick your gaze over to his face that's less than a foot from yours. Placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to examine his skin. "Hmm... really? I don't see the difference." 

You did. No one's skin glows as much as the man in front of you.

Romeo clenches his jaw so tightly you're almost concerned he's going to grind down his perfect teeth. "You don't see the difference...?! Perhaps we should get your eyes checked! And you're supposed to be the one surveying the EITS?!"

"But you agree his cologne is pretty solid?" Your lips twitch as the vice-captain's face comically becomes more animated with each snarky comment you make. 

"That fool may as well be rolling around with a wet dog! Whatever bootleg fragrance he wears does not match his pH! How far away were you from that imbecile to draw that conclusion?!" Romeo shouts indignantly.

You're no longer able to keep up the act, your lips peeling into a full on grin as a giggle escapes you.

This only seems to irritate Romeo further. "And what's so funny?!"

"I was only teasing you. I've never been close enough to smell him. Definitely not close enough to see his pores."

"Y-You...!" Romeo's face flushes in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "For what purpose, fool?!"

"You look cute when you're all mad," You say like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Sorry, Boss. You make it too easy."

"Do you know how much my collagen cream costs? If you expedite the rate in which I obtain wrinkles, you will be my servant until the day you die to pay me back!" Romeo growls.

"How scary," You tease, tearing your gaze from the man shouting at such close proximity. If he stays like that any longer while you face him, you may actually start blushing. Reaching forward, you set the portable computer back in your lap.

"Fucking right, it's scary! I'll make sure your income is so low that you'll be taking residence in my private office," Romeo huffs, finally sitting back as he was before. 

You snort. "Are you going to make me stay in my underwear too, like you did with Kaito?" 

"You'll be lucky if you are even granted that amount of decency," Romeo spats. 

Heat crawls up your neck at the implication. 

"...Wow. Pervert." You're barely able to say it without your voice nervously cracking.

"Tch...! Don't flatter yourself," Romeo counters. A vibration, followed by a ringing sound emanates from his dress pants. The vice-captain stands, pulling his cell phone out. Before he answers it, he shoots you a glare. "You're in need of some serious TLC in order for that to be any concern of yours."

"Oh? That's okay, you're not my type anyway," You lie, as you return your attention to the email in front of you. 

"Excuse me...?!" Romeo flits his furious gaze from you then back to the phone. "This conversation isn't over! Just you wait…!" The Sinostra vice-captain drags a finger across his phone's screen, then brings it to his ear. As if the caller on the other end is physically present, Romeo relaxes his face with his tone before replying. "Hello...? Right, when…?" 

The vice-captain paces around the room mumbling vague replies to the mystery receiver. After a minute or so, he hangs up and stalks back in your direction. 

You pretend you don't notice him as you continue working, anticipating verbal outlash. Instead, you feel a weight sit alarmingly close to your side. Your hand stills on the track pad in front of you when Romeo wraps an arm around your backside. 

"(Y/N)~" The vice-captain speaks so close to your ear that involuntary chills run up your spine. 

You weren't that startled by the gesture. Romeo did this occasionally when he wanted something. Trying to act all sultry to fluster you to the point of accepting his request. That was further confirmed by the rare use of your actual name rather than an acronym disguising an insult.

Usually, you would do whatever he wanted anyway as long as it wasn't too out of your comfort zone. Any time that you'd decline he'd have a fit about it and ignore you for a while after. 

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to ask me to do something ridiculous?" You ask with a sigh. 

"Oh, it's nothing too crazy. But do you think you could get a permit and make a delivery for me outside campus, pretty girl? I know you have enough rapport with the Chancellor to do it by now," Romeo drawls, tucking stray hairs behind your ear. 

"What are you trying to get me to deliver? And where?" You ask, flicking your gaze to his suspiciously.

"It's not important, I will give you the address. All you have to do is drop it off in a mailbox. It's not too far from the station," Romeo explains coolly, his minty breath tickling your nose. 

"Hmm..." You hum contemplatively, turning your head back to the laptop. "I dunno... sounds kinda sus. I don't want to lose my honor student privileges, you know?" 

"...There is nothing sus about it! And you won't. Just say you want to make a delivery to a friend." The demanding impatience in Romeo's tone is already starting to rear its head as you continue to question him.

"I dunno. What's in it for me?" You persist nonchalantly. 

"Continued employment and my approval, obviously! What more could you want?" Romeo argues.

You weren't stupid. He was probably fully intending on sending you off with illegal substances. It would be easy to do it and not get caught, but it's not like you were gung-ho about making runs like that. And it's not like Romeo could do it himself with Sinostra's suspension. What could you request in return that he would be deterred from ever asking you again?

"I might consider it if you do something for me," You reply as another impish grin threatens to peel back. 

Romeo clicks his tongue impatiently. "Asking me for favors now? What could you possibly want?"

"Kiss me," You request, making a point to sound as deadpan as possible. 

The room becomes uncannily still for several moments once the words fall from your mouth.

You smirk, taking your time before you look back at Romeo to assess the damage. The Sinostra vice-captain is boring a hole through you with his eyebrows furrowed. You watch his smooth lips part marginally, as if something is just on the tip of his tongue. 

It's almost hilarious. The way that he just came onto you with the intention of coaxing you to do his bidding, but when the tables are turned he's at a loss for words. You let out a short laugh, deeming this to be your victory as you refocus your attention on the laptop in front of you yet again. "Looks like my hands are tied, Vice-Captain. Maybe you can blackmail Kaito into doing it."

Romeo clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Imbecile, did I say no?"

Well, you can't say you were expecting that. 

You laugh awkwardly, looking at him like he just lost his mind. "What, you're going to agree just like that?"

Romeo nods. "If you wash your face and do a proper skin care routine beforehand. And make sure your mouth is entirely scrubbed clean, if I taste anything foul on your lips, so help me god...!"

"Woah, woah, woah...! I didn't say anything about the lips," You reply, your voice slightly panicked. "Also, you gotta kiss my face as is. It's part of the stipulation. And I haven't washed it in, like, five days. I probably got blackheads galore. You seriously wanna go through with that?"

You had washed your face and put on products previously recommended to you by Romeo this morning. The more affordable ones, anyway. Not that he needed to know that. 

Romeo squints his eyes as he closes in on you, stopping just inches from your face. "You're lying. Why? I don't have time for these games."

How did he immediately call on your bluff?

When you struggle to formulate an excuse, Romeo leans forward, cupping his gloved hand on your chin. You don't have time to react before he presses his plush lips against your cheek. The vice-captain stays that way for a second too long, the kiss past the point of being chaste. When Romeo pulls back, he's quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you. 

"I'd recognize that scent anywhere. Did you put on Tatcha cream this morning?"

You can feel heat gather at the apples of your cheeks as you gawk at him wordlessly. 

"I suppose you're not entirely hopeless after all." Romeo smirks approvingly as he gives you the backhanded compliment. 

"Shit," You mutter, sighing in defeat.

"Looks like you will be my delivery girl. Don't fuck it up, BB," Romeo says derisively, before getting to his feet and walking off to retrieve the parcel. 

--

Days pass after you begrudgingly follow through with the delivery without anything particularly eventful happening. Currently, you're seated at a bench in the courtyard just outside of campus helping Kaito prepare for an upcoming test in a class you both had. Your phone has been vibrating in your pocket for a hot minute, but you're so determined with focusing on helping Kaito, you ignore it for the time being.

"Jesus effing Christ! I don't get this shit at all, I'm totally gonna bomb this," Kaito whines. The Frostheim student has his fingers wound in his hair as if he's ready to yank it out in clumps. 

"If you hold that attitude the entire time, you just might. A lot of this test is going to be memorization. If anything, I can whip up some flash cards really quick for you," You offer, shooting him a sympathetic glance. 

"Hah... y-you'd really do that? You're seriously an angel." Kaito's voice cracks and he dramatically begins to sprout tears from the corners of his eyes. 

"Pffft, it's nothing. If anything, I still owe you for helping me out so much when I first got here." You pull out a stack of blank index cards from your messenger bag and peer over at the highlighted material in the notepad settled in Kaito's lap. 

Picking up a pen, you begin scribbling the most important bits on the cards that you presume will be on the test. It takes you around ten minutes, but when you finish you hand the stack over to the Frostheim student. 

"Just study it before bed for at least twenty minutes every night until the exam. That's what I always do when I don't retain enough," You remark with a reassuring smile. "Easy peasy."

"T-Thanks so much, (Y/N)." Kaito looks at you with a melting expression, his lower lip puckered into a pout. "I'll get a permit and take you out to my favorite ramen place if I pass this thing, for real."

"Oh? I'll hold you to that," You quip, smirking at him.

Kaito holds out his pinky, nodding fervently. "Pinky swear! It'll be super fun."

You latch your own finger with his. "I bet. I've been craving those marinated eggs lately. It's like you read my mind. Maybe we could bring Lucas, too?"

"Uh... m-maybe. Or it could be..." Kaito giggles nervously, scratching his blonde mop. "Like a d-d-date...?"

"A date...?" You tilt your head, eyeing your friend curiously. 

Before Kaito can present his case, a black gloved hand swats his out of yours in the blink of an eye. 

"A date?! Don't make me laugh, leech! If you don't pay EPB you will be lucky to be still breathing come the day of your exams!"

"GYAAAAH...!" Kaito stumbles back from his seat, landing butt first on the stone ground. "W-What the hell are y-you doing here...?! And how long were you listening?!"

Romeo places a hand on his lip, glowering at Kaito with disdain. "Long enough." The vice-captain briskly snaps his head in your direction. "And just how long did you think you would continue getting away with ignoring me, BB? While fraternizing with this fool who owes me money? You want to take permanent residence in my private office that badly?"

You blink at Romeo owlishly. "Huh? Ignoring you? Since when?" Then it dawns on you. Your phone was vibrating in your pocket like crazy earlier. 

"Don't play dumb! I know your phone is on you!" Romeo yells, jabbing an accusing finger in your direction.

You snort at that. "How do you know that? Maybe I left it at my dorm."

"Are you so daft that you think I'd let my assistant frolic around OTG?"

You avert your gaze upwards, pondering what the acronym could possibly mean. "...Alright, you lost me. OTG?"

"Off. The. Grid...!" Romeo retorts, enunciating each word with biting emphasis. 

You stare at his sour face blankly for a few seconds as you belatedly digest the implication. Scratching your cheek, you quirk an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you're tracking me, Boss?"

"Of course I am!" Romeo admits shamelessly. "And don't even think about finding the application and removing it! I made sure that your access is restricted from such tampering!"

You sigh, not particularly perturbed or surprised by the revelation. "You're a real weirdo, you know that? If this were a legitimate job with human resources I could totally report you if I wanted."

"S-Since when did you start working for this nut job?!" Kaito asks, now scrambling to his feet. "Jesus Christ, just work at the campus!"

Romeo glares daggers at the blonde. "Unless you'd like to spend the night being hung up by your toes, I suggest you make yourself scarce! And I expect a money order by 12pm sharp tomorrow, or I will be making an appearance at your dormitory."

"Urk...! F-Fine...!" Kaito hastily grabs his messenger bag from the bench. "I'll see you later (Y/N)! Text me...!" The blonde flicks a wary glance in Romeo's direction before scampering off.

"Now that the fool has left, you are coming with me, BB! I have a job for you. And turn your audio notifications on for my number, FFS!" Romeo orders.

You roll your eyes before getting to your feet. "Fine, fine, I hear ya." 

--

After announcing that Romeo had your location tracked, you swore that you had begun to notice that he was making more frequent appearances where you didn't usually see him. When you went to eat at the weird diner Ren works at with Lucas, Romeo showed up in the middle of your meal, requesting you return to Sinostra as soon as possible. A day later you saw him on the main campus in the second year wing of the building to fetch you after class. Another day, you went to help Alan with some paperwork and the Sinostra vice-captain was there, too. Romeo had claimed that he was just there to speak with Leo, but then insisted that you come with him once you had finished up, anyway. 

It's not like you had a set schedule to work. Sometimes you wouldn't help him for a day or two in the event that Darkwick needed something that took priority. Who knows? Maybe it really was all a coincidence. 

You sat in the VIP room again, a few of Romeo's goons were talking amongst themselves across the room, while you were waiting for whatever task the vice-captain had planned for you that evening. Romeo had texted you earlier in the day, and he had made it seem as if it were something urgent. 

Eventually, the double doors burst open and Romeo made a beeline for you. 

You lift your eyes to meet the Sinostra vice-captain's as he approaches, stopping to a halt right in front of you. “Heya, Boss,” You smirk up at him. “What's good?”

“(Y/N),” Romeo starts, his voice as sweet as molasses. The vice-captain is looking down at you with a jovial smile. ”Just In time~”

“Ugh…” Your expression falters to a tired one in an instant. Standing up, you make an attempt to slide out from in front of him. “Just realized, Cornelius asked me to do some stuff at Frostheim, so if you'll excuse me–”

Romeo holds your waist firmly in place, narrowing his eyes sharply at you. “The Chancellor sent you no such notification. I should know.”

“C'mon now you're hacking into my phone to read my messages?” You ask in disbelief, irritation rising in your voice. “I'm starting to think you're in love with me.” 

“Idiot! Now you're just blowing smoke up your ass! I have my reasons,” Romeo counters vaguely. The vice-captain is close enough that you can smell every fragrant product he had on today.

You click your tongue, sitting back down with your arms folded over your chest. Debating with Romeo was like talking to a brick wall, so you weren't about to waste your breath. “Fine, what do you need?”

Romeo turns his head to the group of his lackeys behind him. “Fools! You better have that box with you.”

“Sorry, right here, Boss!” One of the students hurried over to Romeo's side, handing said box over to him. 

Romeo takes it, then tosses it in your lap. It's not that heavy and it has a white lid. “Here! This will be my gift to you, should you do what I ask.”

You eye him skeptically, to which he nods. Despite the usage of the word gift, knowing him, there was a pretty big catch. Hesitantly, you reach out and lift the lid in front of you. 

The scarlet fabric immediately catches your eye. Silk? 

You lift the item out of its box, extending the piece of clothing enough to where you can really judge what you're looking at. It looks to be some type of halter neck evening gown. Formal, yet not too formal. The way the fabric feels against your fingertips tells you that this is worth several months' pay at least. Just beneath the dress is a set of accenting jewelry at the bottom of the box. You don't know enough about that kind of thing to even begin to guess it's worth.

“...What the hell is this?” You ask, completely bewildered. 

“A dress, obviously. Do you have eyes?” Romeo snaps.

“Okay, but why?”

Romeo exhales, steeling himself like he's about to make a sales pitch. “...Tonight I have a guest. A former colleague of mine, for lack of a better word. I have a list of tables I need you to lead him to and goad him into playing. The fool likes to bid high.”

“And I gotta wear this to do it?” You prod, creasing your eyebrows. 

“That GFNS has a type and if I work my magic, you will fit that,” Romeo explains, placing a hand on his hip.

“You can't seriously expect me to flirt with some rando. And what, are you gonna cheat him out of money? I thought you were against that!” You argue. 

Romeo clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You don't need to seduce him, just act as you normally do. Pretend you recognize him. The idiot has a meager amount of fame in the outside world, so it won't be odd. As for cheating him– the piece of shit deserves it. He did the same to me and still believes I am unaware. It's a wonder I haven't killed him already.”

You pause, taking a moment to process everything. “How the hell am I supposed to convince him to follow me around?”

“Start by offering him a drink, and tell him you're my cousin. I will provide you with a list of what to do from there. The majority of men are simple meatheads,” Romeo states matter-of-factly. “Throw a pretty woman in front of them and they will fold like a deck of cards.” 

You roll your eyes. “So now I'm pretty? What happened to ‘basic bitch’?” 

“...You're not repulsive,” Romeo admits, averting his gaze. 

“Such a charmer,” You say sarcastically.

“So, will you do it?”

It didn't sound like the most fun task in the world, but if you weren't pressured into behaving a certain way, it really wouldn't be so bad. Plus, you kind of want to have Romeo doll you up. The vice-captain has referenced it enough in passing, but had yet to follow through.

“I really don't have to hit on him?” You reiterate. 

“Be friendly, that's it,” Romeo insists. 

“Do I get another kiss for this?” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows.

Romeo's flicks his gaze over you fully, as if he's genuinely considering your question. “...Ask me again when you clean up.”

You nearly choke on air at his nonchalant reply.

“Joke! That was a joke!” You insist with a nervous laugh, waving your hands wildly in protest. “My next kiss, face or otherwise, will be reserved for my future partner!”

Romeo's lips pull slightly downward and his expression wavers like he has more commentary to throw back at you. Instead, the vice-captain pushes out an exasperated sigh as he turns on his heel and waves you off dismissively. “Go and put that on. Don't keep me waiting.” 

“Okie dokie. You got it, Boss.”

When Romeo handed you a mirror after he applied makeup on you and styled your hair, you almost didn't recognize yourself. It's not as if you hadn't dressed up before, but it never came out quite this well. As it turns out, the vice-captain wasn't all talk with his stylistic choices. 

You were thoroughly impressed. Romeo had also brought shoes to you before he had gotten started on your makeup, that matched the dress and accessories. Everything fit perfectly, too. Which, you did wonder how that was possible without Romeo somehow invading your privacy again. You didn't bother touching on that subject. 

“Woah, you really know your stuff,” You compliment Romeo, as you admire the rouge lip color he had applied to your face. It complimented the dress perfectly. 

“I am offended that you ever doubted me,” Romeo retorts. He's sitting on a stool in front of you and the couch in the VIP lounge. “I have a feeling this will go according to plan. Just look over your notes beforehand, got it?” 

You nod, lowering the mirror onto the table in front of you. “By the way, is this guy really going to make up what it cost to get me this stuff? This looks crazy expensive.”

“Of course,” Romeo insists, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You think I intend to support a charity case? As long as you do what I say, this will be a miniscule dent in the return.”

“That's good at least. I almost started to feel bad.” You stand up, with the intention of getting the ball rolling. 

“Hold on,” Romeo stands with you, pulling a golden vial out of the pouch of makeup that rests on the table. The vice-captain opens it, a strong, but inviting fragrance permeates your immediate surroundings. Leaning in close, Romeo dabs some of the liquid from the wand that's attached to the lid onto your neck. 

“Oh, that smells nice…” You murmur, pretending like the close proximity of your gorgeous tyrant of a boss isn't making your heart beat rapidly. 

“As it should. It's of high quality.” Romeo brings a pale hand to your neck, spreading the oil-like perfume across the expanse of your neck gently with his fingertips. 

The Sinostra vice-captain's expression is completely unreadable at the moment. And for reasons unbeknownst to you– you struggle to take your eyes off of him. Maybe it's because he looks more peaceful than usual? If you had to guess, this kind of thing might be fun for him. 

“Thank you,” You say impulsively, beaming at him. 

Romeo removes his fingers from your neck, flitting his gaze to meet yours. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“I dunno, this is kind of fun. I think it's better than you making me go on a drug deal,” You tease. 

“I never admitted to making you do anything of the sort,” Romeo counters. 

“Never admitted,” You emphasize with a coy smirk. “Even if you're doing this for your own agenda, I still appreciate your creative efforts. So, thanks.”

Romeo stares at you with an indiscernible  expression for a few beats, his face alarmingly close to yours. It feels strange. Since when was he so comfortable being this close without reason? Especially when he's not visibly pissed about something.

“...Thank me by doing your job correctly,” He finally says. 

Romeo increases the distance between the two of you, placing the now closed vial of perfume back where he got it. “Now scram. I have things to do.”

It feels like you can finally breathe. What is this strange feeling?

“Yeah, sure thing…”

The guest Romeo had told you to tag along with was turning out to be a seemingly decent guy. He had dark hair and was handsome enough, but compared to the ghouls at Darkwick, he didn't particularly stand out. Based on the information Romeo wrote down for you, he is well known on social media for creating and promoting a pretty successful clothing line. His actual name was lost on you, but Romeo just told you to refer to him as Zomo. You weren't sure if it was a public nickname for him, or one given to him by the vice-captain himself. 

Everything Romeo had told you to do had seemingly worked. The influencer initially had been confused by you approaching him, until you labeled yourself as Romeo's close cousin. From there it was relatively easy to converse with him. You showed him around and you didn't have to try very hard to get him to participate at the table games. The first table the list told you to take him to was a game of roulette. And you couldn't help but notice a familiar red-headed captain seated at the gaming table. 

You knew basic casino etiquette, courtesy of Romeo. Since you didn't intend on playing, you observed from behind Zomo's chair. 

“Say… don't I know ya from somewhere, Kitty?”

You glance over at Taiga. He's leaning on the table in a languid posture, his head resting on his fist. The Sinostra Captain is smirking at you impishly. 

“Yeah. Don't you remember? It's me, John Titor,” You joke, though you intentionally keep your expression serious for the bit. 

“...That what it was?” The smile never leaves Taiga's face as he stares at you, likely trying to figure out if it's actually the truth. After a long pause, he starts laughing. “...Gyahaha! Ya don't seem like a John. Feel like ya gotta have a beard for that one!”

Romeo's guest looks between the two of you skeptically. You wonder if he knows Taiga already. If not, you could only imagine the confusion, especially considering you introduced yourself with your real name. 

“I'll just call ya Johnny for now, how ‘bout it?” Taiga holds a fist out to you, like he intends to hand you something. Curious, you reach your palm out to him. 

Without warning, Taiga slaps several orange chips directly into your hand. A familiar tingling sensation lingers on your palm at the contact. You blink, meeting Taiga's gaze dubiously.

Was it part of Romeo's plan for Taiga to use his stigma, then? Guess it only makes sense if they're trying to screw this guy.

Taiga grins at you wolfishly for a moment before pulling back and leaning onto the table again. “Get me a drink will ya? Think I'm in the mood for an Old Fashioned.”

“...Sure,” You say. Looking down at the Zomo guy, you speak up again. “Want anything?”

“Same thing, thanks,” He replies.

Hours went by of spectating as Romeo's guest fails each and every one of the games he participates in. A constant throughout the evening was Taiga making an appearance at every table that you influenced Zomo to play at. If you had any doubt that Romeo and the Sinostra Captain had collaborated in the scheme together, that was long gone. 

Throughout it all, Zomo continued requesting drinks, and you retrieved them every time he asked. He was either so trashed that he didn't realize how much money he lost, or he just didn't care. By the time you reached the finale of the last game on your list, Zomo was completely out of chips. 

“Damn… lost again, eh? That's embarrassing.” Romeo's guest lethargically scratches his head at the Baccarat table. The rest of the players had already made themselves scarce, leaving the two of you alone for the moment. Aside from the dealer who was busying himself in idle chatter with another casino employee.

“Oof, damn!” You say, doing your best to feign shock for the umpteenth time. “That sucks, buddy. Maybe next time?”

“Buddy…?” Zomo repeats, his brow creased. You hear him curse under his breath. And only seconds after that, you feel a hand grip your wrist and yank you forward. 

“Woah…!” You trip over your feet and nearly butt heads with the man seated at the table. Zomo stretches a hand out, stilling your shoulder in time with his free hand. 

“Here I thought you were gonna cozy up with me for the night. Turns out you're just a fuckin’ tease, eh?”

Oops, looks like you made the wrong dialogue choice. Creeper alert!

You attempt to yank your hand back, but the man's grip is firm. Zomo's face is just inches from yours, and his breath reeks of brown liquor. Taking a deep breath, you narrow your eyes at him. “Let me go, fuck face.”

“Don't think I'm gonna do that,” He says, his voice slurring over his words.

“Dude, seriously!” You growl, moving your other hand forward to attempt to peel the man's fingers off. 

The sound of a gun bolt sliding back and locking into place sounds from your right. 

You glance up. The Sinostra vice-captain is training a rifle less than a foot from the man's head. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his finger linger dangerously close to the trigger. “W-Wait Romeo, don't–”

“Get the fuck out,” Romeo seethes, his words come out far more venomous than you ever thought possible. “Unless you'd like me to contact Darkwick's medical facility to relay details for your death certificate.”

“W-Woah, chill man…! I w-wasn't gonna do anything,” Zomo sputters out as he releases your wrist to hold his hands up in surrender. 

“Not only are you a thieving weasel, you're lying through your teeth,” Romeo balances the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, using his free hand to wave over a member of security. “Escort this BFL out.”

The security member quickly makes his way over to grab Zomo's shoulder and carries out Romeo's orders. The vice-captain's old acquaintance doesn't make a fuss as he's led towards the door. If he did, you may actually think he's insane. You wouldn't put it past Romeo to actually pull the trigger. The Sinostra vice-captain had shot at Ritsu before, after all. 

Romeo lowers his gun once Zomo's out of sight, and turns his head to look at you, his gaze cold. “VIP room, now.”

“Uh, sure.”

You follow Romeo back to the room you can never seem to stay out of nowadays. The vice-captain says nothing the entire walk there. It was a little unsettling not hearing him rant angrily about one thing or another. You weren't sure what to expect when you watched Romeo close the massive double doors behind the two of you. A distinct clicking noise makes you double take in his direction. 

Did he just lock the door?

A brief surveillance of the room tells you that you're the only two people inside. 

“Sit,” Romeo demands, waving in the general direction of the sofa. The vice-captain doesn't wait for you to reply before he stalks off towards the back of the room with his rifle, presumably to stow it away. 

You make your way over to the sofa, plopping down. Deciding it's been weirdly awkward for long enough, you speak up. “You're being quiet. Are you mad?”

You hear something click shut from behind you, and a few moments later Romeo walks back into view. The vice-captain makes his way over to you, taking a seat relatively close to you. He looks at you with a hard gaze.

“Would it kill you to take my word and just follow the script I gave you, moron?” Romeo finally reprimands. Though, he sounds almost nice compared to how he usually berates.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that ‘buddy’ would set that weirdo off?” You argue. “You really know some odd people.”

“...You should be grateful I was using the EITS to watch over you,” Romeo spats, his arms folded over his chest. 

“It's okay, I would have karate chopped him,” You insist, holding your arms out in a playful representation of what you imagine a proper karate pose would look like. 

“Don't make me laugh,” Romeo starts, though the agitation in his tone tells you he's not actually in a laughing kind of mood. “You couldn't even peel that pig's fingers off of you!”

You pivot your body to face him, leaning your cheek on the back of the couch. “You worried about little old me?”

“Worried…?” Romeo repeats, his intense gaze burning a hole through you. “The only one who should be worried is that weasel. So long as you are in my LOS, no one will touch you.”

You feel your cheeks burn at Romeo's words. “Uhm… line of sight?”

“Obviously.”

“Geez. Can’t tell if you sound delusional, or romantic,” You mutter, averting your gaze to a random spot on the couch. 

Romeo scoffs. “I said it exactly as I meant it. Attributing further sentiment is a waste of time.”

You laugh a bit, in spite of yourself. “Yeah, don't I know it. I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry Boss.”

“You should be. Now make up for it by canceling your extracurricular plans this week to work for me.” Romeo's lips peel into a devilish grin as he makes the absurd request. 

“That hardly seems like a fair shake,” You say with a snort. “What are you gonna do when I'm not around one day?”

Romeo's expression slips into a puzzled one. “What do you mean?”

“Well, one day I'm gonna return home if I break my curse. I doubt Darwick intends on giving me permanent residence here. I'll have to help you find someone to replace me when that happens,” You explain, flashing him a bittersweet smile. “You forget?”

Romeo frowns, eyeing you dubiously. “I don't plan on forking my assistant over so easily.”

“I didn't realize that you had any real say in it,” You tease. “Are you going to convince Hyde that I will be a valuable asset for the foreseeable future?”

“If that's what it comes to. That DOF owes me anyhow, always nagging at the most inconvenient of times!” Romeo pauses, holding your gaze. “...Don't tell me you actually have been looking forward to going back to your mundane life?”

Did you? 

Maybe in some ways. Though, Darkwick and the people in it have become your second home. Initially it wasn't a choice, but for the moment you wouldn't trade it away. Not yet. 

“...There are things I miss. People,” You admit, doing your best not to sound like a sad sack. 

“Like who?” Romeo persists, the frustrated look on his face not budging.

“Family and friends,” You reply vaguely. “I miss the normalcy sometimes. The routine, being able to put time into things that aren't important, and going out when I want with whoever.”

Romeo clicks his tongue irritably. “...What a stupid sentiment. You can basically have all that here. Why not just stay here and visit there?”

You snicker at his persistence. This might be the most interest that the Sinostra vice-captain ever showed in how you feel. Though, the bar is still low considering he's using that information to try and manipulate your actions.

“Why not just visit me if I can't stay here?” You counter. 

“I have far more important things to do.” 

You sigh, feigning a wistful expression. “Well, that's alright. I guess I'll just invite Kaito over.”

“What…?” Romeo sits forward, his fuchsia eyes glaring daggers at you. “You intend to let that blubbering fool into your home alone?!”

“Sure, why not?” You ask, your lips curling into a coy smirk.

“That leech still owes me money! If he's around you with that much freedom the hormonal fool will spend my cash impulsively,” Romeo explains.

“Oh, right…” You mumble, wearing a pensive expression. “...Then I guess Alan could visit.”

“That behemoth will cause a mess bumbling around in your dinky home,” Romeo argues.

“Hm… Towa, surely.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you have flood insurance?!”

“Okay, Boss. Tell me– who is suitable for me to invite into my home?” You ask, stifling a laugh. 

“No one,” Romeo answers with conviction. “So stop considering it, BB.”

You sigh. “You know this ongoing territorial Boss bit is totally gonna scare away any potential love interests for me in the future.” 

“Good,” Romeo remarks impassively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let there be no other distractions.”

“That's totally not fair. Unless you're planning on doing the charity work of being my boyfriend, I think I'll pass,” You retort, puffing your cheeks. “As a hopeless romantic, there's some things I won't sacrifice.”

“I will do it,” Romeo declares pointedly. 

Your eyes widen and you lift your head from the back cushion of the couch, gawking in disbelief. “...What?”

The vice-captain's expression is serious. Romeo's words are not to be taken lightly. 

“I said I'll do it, idiot,” Romeo insists. “But I will write up a list of guidelines you must follow consistently in regards to hygiene and skin care routines. And for outings together you will not give me any push back when I select your outfits, or how I choose to style your hair. And you must be prompt when I invite you out, no excuses.”

You gape at him in shock. “...You're serious?”

“Does it seem like I'm joking, nitwit?” Romeo snaps. 

“Okay… what about, uh…” Your cheeks turn bright red, you can just feel it. “Intimacy? Physical touch? Is that really something you'd be open to…?”

“So long as you're not filthy, I will accomodate,” Romeo answers, like it's the simplest question in the world. 

“Er… But is that something you want or just something you'd be willing to do just to keep me here?” You prod, brows tented. 

Romeo gives you a prickly stare. “Obviously, my intention is to keep you here.”

Ouch. 

There's a couple ways you could interpret that, if you think hard enough about it. But since it wasn't the answer you were looking for, it was difficult to not take personal. You weren't particularly interested in trading intimacy with someone who just wanted you around for business purposes. Even if it seemed like it could be fun, it would inevitably be a disaster in the long run. But it was Romeo, what did you expect?

Shifting your gaze off to the side, you speak in a near whisper “...I'm sorry, that's not really something I'm interested in. I'm gonna have to pass on this one. I like you and all, but I think this is seriously gonna blow if I get attached to you romantically, ya know?”

Romeo stares at you pensively. Even as you shoot up from your seat seconds later. 

“I'm gonna head home now!” You announce, somehow managing to keep your voice steady. “You can call me whenever you need me in the morning though, since there's no classes tomorrow.”

Just as you wave Romeo off and turn heel, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you backwards.

“W-Woah…!”

In the blink of an eye, you're sitting back on the couch, with your thighs overlapping Romeo's. The Sinostra vice-captain is gripping one of your wrists and his left arm is looped around your backside.

You stare up at him in surprise, and he's glaring daggers back at you. His pretty lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I cannot believe you have the audacity to reject me,” Romeo says, his jaw clenched as if he's struggling to maintain his composure. 

“Hey, reject?” You echo, your eyes wide like saucers. “T-That's not my intention.”

The vice-captain's eye twitches in vexation. “Not your intention? How else could I possibly interpret that?! Do you have any idea how lucky you should feel that the thought even crossed my mind, THD?”

“I do feel lucky,” You argue, your brow creasing. “I-I just don't think the way we feel about each other is the same.”

“If that's the case or not, what difference does it make? There is no one better suited for you, I can assure you that,” Romeo asserts. 

Heat rises to your cheeks at the bold statement. You open your mouth, but find yourself grappling with your brain and heart to the point where nothing slips out. 

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is about? One of the fools you rattled off earlier? Do tell me their name,” Romeo rants. Despite the vice-captain's voice not being as elevated as it usually is, his expression isn't any less venomous. “If you try to weasel your way out of it, I will find out eventually.”

“No…!” You nearly shout in disbelief. “C'mon, you're being completely unreasonable! How would there be? I'm with you during most of my free time!”

Romeo lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “On four separate occasions this week, you were spending time with other ghouls. And I've seen the way those Frostheim fools look at you!”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, Romeo it's not like that…!”

“Don't! Don't call me that…!” The vice-captain tears his gaze from yours, his eyes settling somewhere on your lap. “...Take some responsibility, BB! You're the one that started this shit with that idiotic kiss nonsense!”

Huh…?

“That's what this is about…?” You ask, your jaw slack as you stare at Romeo's conflicted expression.

As far as you could tell, the Sinostra vice-captain had been completely flippant about the interaction. Was that really the catalyst for his possessive behavior? Your attempt to mess with him?

“It infuriates me,” Romeo starts, his posture tense. “You had remnants of sweat on your face, and you looked as if you just rolled out of bed, putting no thought into your appearance whatsoever. Other than that moisturizer, there was no fragrance lingering on you.”

You give Romeo a tired look, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. 

“...It infuriates me that I didn't hate it,” Romeo admits, his grip on your wrist tightening marginally as the confession leaves his mouth.

Oh…

“...You mean you like the way my natural skin smells?” You ask, eyeing the vice-captain curiously. 

“Must I repeat myself in another language, fool?” Romeo snaps, his steely eyes darting up at you. 

It wasn't that unusual to like the smell of someone's natural oils. But you suppose for someone as finicky about scents and hygiene as Romeo could be, it was probably pretty important to him. 

A giggle slips past your lips involuntarily.

“And what about this is so funny…?!” Romeo snaps. 

You smile at him, finding the beautiful ghoul in front of you particularly endearing right now. “That's just the best compliment I think I may ever receive from you. And it's super common. Science might say that it means you're attracted to my pheromones. You're so cute.”

“Cute?” Romeo repeats, looking at you like you've lost your mind. “I have been reduced to falling prey to primitive behavior that does nothing to serve me! There's nothing ‘cute’ about this, FFS!”

So, Romeo likes your smell so much that it's been making him act like a possessive basket case all week? That explanation didn't entirely track.

“Do you like me, Boss?” You ask, sporting a lopsided smile. 

“Like? Who fucking knows,” Romeo grumbles, leaning back into the couch as his grip falls from your wrist. 

“Well…” You look down at your legs that were still on top of his. “I gotta say, I don't think I would have ever thought you'd let me be on you like this. You want me to move?”

Romeo doesn't give you a verbal reply, but the arm around your waist stiffens. 

“No, then?” You prod.

“You're not leaving. Not like that. Not now,” Romeo decides. The vice-captain looks at you like he's daring you to go against his orders.

“I won't go if you don't want me to,” You reassure.

Romeo must believe you because his arm relaxes slightly. 

“...Hey,” You start. “If you're not sure how you feel, can I try something? Maybe it will help you determine your feelings. And then we can discuss the whole dating thing again.”

“...Try what?” Romeo asks, raising an eyebrow. 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for a potential adverse reaction. “Okay, here me out. And feel free to throw me off for my brazen stupidity if you're against it…”

“Spit it out, idiot.” 

“Okay, okay. Can I kiss you…?” You blurt out, wincing preemptively.

Romeo stares at you with an unreadable gaze, and your stomach flips with anticipation.

“...Fine.”

“Oh, for real?” 

“Do it before I change my mind, BB,” Romeo demands. 

“Oh, yes. Of course. So, uh… like before?” You meant the cheek kiss. Hopefully the vice-captain would catch on to save you the embarrassment of explaining.

Romeo clicks his tongue. “Do I have to hold your hand through everything? Just do it.”

Okay, cheek kiss to be safe. That shouldn't be too intimidating. You've kissed your friends and family members cheeks, nothing but a cinch!

You sit up and inch your face closer towards Romeo's. It doesn't help your nerves that he's staring at you expectantly. Has this guy ever been on the receiving end of a kiss before? Couldn't he at least close his staggeringly pretty eyes so your heart would stop pounding against your chest like a jackhammer?

Knowing how bothered Romeo would be if you chickened out now helps you regain your composure. You shut your eyes and close the distance, pressing your lips against his devastatingly plush cheek. After an appropriate length of time, you pull back and assess the damage. 

Romeo shoots you an unimpressed look. “What? That's it?”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously, an awkward laugh spilling from your mouth. “Uh… what, you want me to do it again?”

“Yes! Would you like me to write it in crayon?” Romeo snaps, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Okay, okay!” You impulsively reach for Romeo's gloved hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

The vice-captain shows no sign of protest at the gesture, so you proceed with the second kiss, this time landing your lips closer to his temple. 

By the time you pull back, Romeo looks nothing short of impatient. “Are you so caught up in the role you played earlier that you forgot we aren't actually related? Is this supposed to entice me?”

You puff your cheeks, your face burning from his criticism. “You're such a turd! You really want me to kiss you for real?”

That's the only conclusion you could draw from the vice-captain's words. If your lips were even slightly chapped, or breath even a little off there would surely be hell to pay. You don't recall eating anything sinister. 

You don't have time to make any further advances, nor does he grant you the courtesy of a verbal reply. The arm around your waist effortlessly draws you closer, to where you're sitting fully on the vice-captain's lap. Romeo pulls his hand from your grip, drawing it towards your shoulder. 

You nearly gasp when you feel the wandering hand ghost over the expanse of your collar bone. “What are you–” 

“Quiet,” Romeo interjects softly. His fuchsia eyes rake over you in admiration as his fingertips travel upwards towards your neck. You feel his thumb gently brush against the length of your throat, eventually tickling your jawline. 

“Exactly as I pictured it,” Romeo murmurs vaguely. “...Don't wear this around anyone else.”

“...W-Well, to be fair I was already seen in this by countless people,” You argue, struggling to hold his gaze. If someone would have told you just hours before that the Sinostra vice-captain would be leering so suggestively at you right now, you'd surely laugh in their face. 

Just what did you do to catch the attention of the most self-assured and vain man you'd ever met in your life?

“A severe lapse in judgment on my part. Don't anticipate it happening again,” Romeo retorts bitterly. 

Without warning, the Sinostra vice-captain cups his hand against your neck and pulls you forward. Your eyes flutter shut unconsciously and the warmth of his lips reach yours. 

In spite of the intense nervousness you felt just moments prior, the kiss has you melting on impact. Maybe it's the way his touch is so characteristically deliberate, yet delicate at the same time. You knew his lips were soft, it's obvious at just a glance. But it was clear to you now that having them pressed against your own is far more satisfying than you could have ever imagined. 

You wrap your arms around Romeo's neck in your mindless search for a closer touch. A passing insecure thought that you're doing too much materializes, but is quickly quelled when you feel his lips part and reconnect with yours again. You feel a hand grip the side of your hip, his digits going in for a tight squeeze. Involuntarily, you whimper against Romeo's mouth.

The Sinostra vice-captain pulls back from the kiss, his face beautifully flushed. His right thumb strokes the contour of your jaw languidly as he surveys you with half-lidded eyes. “I've made up my mind.”

You feel completely malleable under his deceptively soft gaze. Drawing your arms back ever so slightly, you press him further. “...And?”

Romeo regards you voraciously, his lips curling into a smirk. “You're mine, (Y/N). It would be in your best interest to remember that.”

[002yb]

If you're fine with it, can we have Jason distracted staring at Dick's back dimples while Tim tries to talk to him about a case?

Tim being well aware that Jason isn't listening to him and knowing there's nothing to be done for it. Because for all intents and purposes, Jason is in another plane of existence. That plane being the one just over Tim's head.

That Dick happens to be standing just behind him is irrelevant, surely. Totally coincidental. (눈_눈)

So there's Tim, trying to do his job. The job Jason requested Tim's assistance on, mind. Because it was important. And yet here Jason is now, being very much distracted by someone who is entirely unrelated to aforementioned important case/job.

Tim takes it in stride if only because it's not a surprise. Jason's crush on Dick isn't exactly a secret. As far as Tim's concerned, it's the only endearing thing about his menace of a brother.

There's something decidedly off about the attention Jason gives Dick this time though. There's nothing of the delicate, flustered maiden Tim is used to whenever Jason discreetly oogles and indulges in all that romantic whimsy of his–just a chilling intensity that has a shiver running up Tim's spine and anticipation making him wonder if he's missed something crucial.

So Tim observes as he rattles on about the case. He knows full well that he'll have to repeat everything later, but Jason's behavior is equal parts concerning and curious.

The way Jason goes from intently watching, neutral until his brows start to furrow and his lips pull down into a frown. A scowl. More and more pensive. Almost bristling.

Tim can't not look, so he casts a furtive glance over his shoulder, discreet and fleeting. And it's just Dick there. Dressed down in the usual athleisure, faced away from them as he looks something over at the large projections of the Batcomputer.

There's nothing to it. It's how Dick always looks after patrol, comfortable in a pair of sweats and a compression shirt. Nothing Jason hasn't flustered over plenty of times before.

Tim still remembers the first time Jason saw Dick dressed down post-patrol. How Dick and Jason were walking past each other, but while Jason kept walking, his head turned to trail after Dick. And how Jason ran into a table, tripped over Damian, and nearly overheated when Dick offered him a hand up. The way Jason's gaze lingered on Dick's bicep, his shoulders as he was hefted up. The way he almost went back down from how bad he was blushing.

It's as Tim is contemplating if Dick did something to provoke Jason's ire that Jason finally makes his move. Disregarding everything Tim says to shove past him and storm across the way, hand reaching out--

And Tim knows that Jason isn't brazen enough to turn Dick around and kiss him or anything like that, but with how puffed up Jason is, who's to say?

Tim is. Because he knows Jason and Jason would fluster and abort and see himself right out of Gotham before confessing his undying, decade long crush.

Which is neither here nor there, because instead Jason just jabs Dick right in the dimple of his lower back. A poke that's a little too vicious to be flirtatious, even for Jason

And Dick's inhale is so sharp that everyone in the cave turns to look

And Tim's eyes widen because fuck, if he thought Jason's stare was chilling, the way Dick glares is cold and severe and... grouchy?

'You're hurt.' Jason goes on to say, unperturbed by the storm he's about to weather

Everyone in the family startling because what?? When? How severe? But also just...how could Jason tell?

And Dick scowls, caught out.

'I'm not hurt.'

Only he is, because Jason scowls and bites back, 'I saw it.'

Which has Dick reeling because how?? He's completely covered. He didn't change with anyone around.

And then it's Jason's turn to get all !!! because he seriously noticed just because of how Dick was standing and the way his back looked through his shirt and somehow Jason's exposed himself in such a terrible way that he just - goes offline. Back to that other plane of existence because well, shit.

The most belated and petulant of, 'it doesn't matter.' before Jason starts fretting

Which makes Dick soften up a bit, because Jason being so caring is such a darling thing. ;3;

And then Dick twists and pulls up his shirt enough to show that he's fine, just bruised and a little swollen.

Jason being such a maiden that he has to look away because just that is too much SOS.

Then they get lost in the chitchats and Tim is still just standing there with his report on a very important case, existing entirely outside of Jason's rose-colored bubble and oh, how Tim wants to pop it so bad lol

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Folsom Prison Blues | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, sexual harassment, crude sexual comments directed at reader, mentions of rape, panic attacks, sexual coercion, blackmail, recovery from an assault (PLEASE PLEASE EXERCISE CAUTION WHEN READING THIS CHAPTER IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED! Please take care of yourselves, lovebugs.)

Word Count: 5303

A/N: This is definitely one of the darker chapters I’ve written. I just wanna reiterate that if you are at all triggered by mentions of rape or sexual harrassment happening toward the reader, please skip this chapter. However, there are no explicit scenes of assault. I always feel like that crosses a line when writers add those really descriptive scenes.

Remember, if you are a victim of anything like this, you are loved and you are not defined by what happens to you. As a victim myself, I completely understand if you make the decision to skip this week's chapter.

Again, please, please, please take care of yourself while you read this chapter. I love you all! And minors, definitely do not read. doooo notttt readddd.

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“Have I mentioned that I hate this idea?” you said to Dean harshly, standing outside of the Impala.

Dean chuckled. “I think a few times.” He kissed your forehead. “Look, Deacon’s a friend of ours. He’s got you covered. See you in a few days, okay?”

“I fucking hate this idea,” you groaned.

Dean leaned down to kiss you, effectively cutting off your sentence. “Just trust me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. See you, Dee.”

And with that, you set off to meet a friend of John Winchester’s, Deacon, at Green River County Detention Center. Several men had been brutally murdered in the B-block of their men’s prison, and Deacon, the warden at the prison, had come to the Winchester brothers for help. Reluctantly, you agreed to pose as a guard in-training to be right there with the boys the whole time and to assist with their escape. 

Your plan was only able to be accomplished due to the fact that the FBI hadn’t gotten a clear photo of you; not from the bank and not from your previous arrest. Your mugshot from Baltimore had “mysteriously disappeared.” However, Sam’s and Dean’s photos were all over the place; Dean’s from St. Louis and a sketch of Sam from a witness in Milwaukee. The two boys were going to purposefully get arrested to be able to get into the B-block of the prison. That was why you hated the idea so much. 

Deacon was tough, you wouldn’t lie, but no tougher than your father. His whole “ex-military” thing didn’t intimidate you at all, and perhaps that was what kept the other officers from messing with you. You’d proved in your “training” how capable you were, and Deacon claimed that was part of the reason they accelerated the hiring process for you. 

However, your tough, impenetrable attitude didn’t deter the inmates from making jabs at you. Your first day on the job, a scrawny inmate with rotting teeth smacked your ass harshly in the cafeteria. You promptly had him on his stomach with his arm twisted behind his back. Deacon called you into his office afterward to fill out an incident report.

“Guessing you guys don’t have that many female hires, huh?” you asked Deacon upon entering his office.

He chuckled. “That’s a nice way of saying it. Most girls wouldn’t be caught dead in here, and we pretty much don’t hire ‘em. Just for their own safety.”

“Don’t you think that’ll raise some red flags, then? Especially given the fact that I appeared out of nowhere and ‘accelerated through training’?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), we don’t exactly hire the best and the brightest. Besides, that sort of thing happens with the guys all the time. Some get transferred from other prison, for others, this is their jumping-off point before they start workin’ for the police force. Actually, I think a lot of ‘em are too excited to see a girl to even think about where you came from. Trust me, nobody’s paying enough mind to your circumstance to notice any of the cracks,” he assured you. 

You let out a breath. “Okay. The boys get arrested yet?”

He nodded. “Should be on their way over now. Just finished questioning them a few counties over.”

“Wait, questioning them? How serious of a questioning are we talkin’ here?” you asked.

“Uh, I don’t know. That’s above my paygrade, kid,” he replied. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. This isn’t gonna be a cakewalk for you. I run a tight ship, but you’re fresh meat. Some of these guys haven’t seen a girl in fifteen, twenty, thirty years. When they see you, be prepared for some wild animals. What happened earlier isn’t gonna be an isolated incident. 

“But one of ‘em even looks at you funny, you tell me. Don’t go lookin’ for trouble, though. Keep your head down and only jump in when you absolutely have to. I have you on patrol of the cell blocks so there’ll at least be a barrier between you and them. At meal and rec time, though, I can’t protect you from what’ll happen.”

You nodded, bile rising in your throat. 

“Why don’t you get outta here? I’ll see you around, okay?”

You nodded again and smiled a little before turning around and heading out of the door. Some of the male guards snickered as you walked past them through the hallways of the prison, but you paid no mind to them. You were focused on seeing your boys again. 

“You don’t belong here,” one of the guards called after you.

You turned on your heel sharply. “What’d you say to me?” 

“You heard me, toots. Go back where you came from,” the guard replied, a foul smile across his face as his buddies snickered.

You gave him a challenging glare. “I’m gonna say this as politely as I can: get fucked.” 

You turned back around and walked away, only to feel a harsh yank on your arm to turn you to face the man. “What’d you say?”

“You heard me, toots,” you said, mocking him. “How small is your dick that a third-grade insult from me got you all fired up? And holy shit, do you need some listerine. You got halitosis? What’s going on there?”

The guard’s friends began to laugh, too, much to the chagrin of the man still holding your arm. He released you roughly, and you knew it’d bruise tomorrow. “I oughta teach you some respect,” he said.

“Oh yeah? And risk losing your job?” you questioned. “You make one wrong move, and I start screaming.”

He scoffed. “Whatever. Just fuck off.”

“That’s what I was doin’,” you replied, turning away again. This time, he let you leave, and you were grateful. You were trying to remain as unnoticed as possible during your time here; despite the fact that being the only female guard put an immediate spotlight on you. 

You continued down the corridor to your assigned patrol; right outside the doors of one of the cell blocks. You tried to seem as unfazed as possible in your nerve-wracking situation and walked with authority; as much as you could muster given most of these men towered over you. You mentally cursed your father for stunting your growth by starving you to make sure you stayed small for hunting purposes. Your baton in hand, you walked up and down the cells. 

“Hey, they got us a hooker,” one of the men from the cell laughed. “How much for the hour, sweetness?”

As that man’s cell erupted into laughter, you walked past another where a man was pleasuring himself in plain view of the hallway. You knew he was doing so to get a rise out of you, and you swallowed your nausea and continued walking. 

“I’m gonna fuck you real good, sweetheart,” a man growled from behind his bars. “At rec time, your ass is mine.”

Again, you just kept walking, ignoring their lewd and offensive comments. You prayed to see Sam, Dean, or Deacon sooner rather than later to continue going through with this. And for a moment, you wondered if this case was even worth it. ‘If these fucking scumbags are the ones dyin’, I’d be okay with that,’ you considered. 

***

At the prisoner’s scheduled lunch time, you held up the end of the line of prisoners heading to the cafeteria. Every time the men at the back of the line tried to turn their heads to sneak a glimpse at you, you used the butt of your baton to hit them on the back of the head and turn their gazes forward. You weren’t completely comfortable doing that, but you were doing your best to prove that you weren’t someone to be messed with.

When you arrived with your group of inmates in the cafeteria, you saw Sam and Dean sitting alone at a small table and talking in hushed voices. You hoped your face didn’t convey your relief to see them. Even though they were in orange jumpsuits, just the sight of the Winchesters made you feel safer. Dean caught you staring at him and smirked a little before turning back to his plate. You forced yourself to remain stoic and keep your hardened expression on your face. Dean got up from the table with his tray to go throw his food away, and Sam followed. Sam somehow didn’t notice a heavily tattooed prisoner with a thick goatee heading straight for him, and he crashed right into him.

“Sorry. I—” Sam tried.

“Watch where you're going,” the man said.

The brunet stumbled over his words. “Yeah. Sure. I just—”

Dean walked up in front of Sam, voice darkening. “He said he was sorry.”

“You talking to me?” the man scoffed. “Are you talking to me?” 

“Great, another guy who's seen Taxi Driver too many times,” Dean quipped. “Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go.”

The tattooed man walked away, and Dean turned around to Sam. He said something quietly and winked at his brother, making Sam roll his eyes before catching sight of the much larger man the tattooed prisoner was walking back over to them with.

You tried to keep your composure when the man swung a punch at Dean. Dean, however, caught him and held him in place from behind. “We can end this right now. No harm, no foul,” the Older Winchester asserted.

The prisoner soon broke from Dean’s hold. He grabbed him again and slammed him against a wall. The man stepped back on Dean’s foot, and Deacon subtly jerked his head at you for you to step forward to help break up the situation.

“That’s enough!” Deacon commanded, walking over to the man Dean had brought to the floor. “On your feet, Lucas.”

The tattooed man, whose name you just found out, stood. “Yes, sir, boss.”

Deacon held out his baton and pushed Dean’s chin up with it. “What's your name?” he asked him.

“Winchester.”

“Well, Winchester, not a good start.” Deacon stared him down angrily. “Solitary. You too, Lucas.”

You immediately grabbed Dean’s wrists and began pushing him in the direction of solitary confinement while another guard grabbed Lucas. 

“Are we having fun yet, huh?” Dean called over your shoulder to Sam.

You roughly shoved him forward, making him face ahead again. 

“Y’know, I usually don’t let girls tie me up without a first date,” Dean quipped. You knew he was trying to rile you up and get you to break character for his own fun.

“If you wanna keep your tongue, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” you replied forcefully.

For some reason, that comment seemed to excite Dean. You fought back an eye roll at his amused expression. You roughly shoved him— not too hard, just hard enough to sell it— into the solitary confinement cell and slammed the door shut. 

Dean smirked at you. “See you around, sweetheart.”

You tried to fight the heat rising to your cheeks, upset by how easily he could get a rise out of you. You left him in solitary confinement and followed the guard who’d brought Lucas to solitary back to the cafeteria. 

“The boys seem to like you a lot,” he sneered. “Havin’ fun yet?”

You recognized him as one of the men who’d taunted you after you left Deacon’s office earlier that morning.

“Buckets,” you responded dryly. 

“I can think of a few ways we could have some more fun,” he said to you, backing you into a wall. 

“Get off me!” Your breath quickened, and without even thinking about it, you used the flat part of your forearm to push his chest away and kneed him in the groin.  

“You bitch!” he yelped. You took off running back to the direction you thought the cafeteria was in, taking a moment to steady yourself against a wall. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath, and you slumped down against the wall, clutching at your chest. You closed your eyes and did your best to steady your breathing and thankfully succeeded. You wiped the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, and steeled yourself to go back out there. 

You rejoined your group of guards, including Deacon, and the other prisoners. Deacon seemed to notice you were upset but said nothing about it. All he said was, “You’re watching the bathrooms with Jones,” referring to your next assignment during the prisoners’ working hours and your partner for the time being. 

You were relieved to see Sam when you made it to your destination. He was having to scrub the floors with a mop that seemed to be more like ragged threads now than a cleaning tool. 

“How you doing?” Sam asked the older prisoner he was with.

“I’m fifty-four years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?” the man’s scratchy voice replied.

“Alright. Bad icebreaker. I'm Sam.”

“Randall.”

“Nice to meet y—” Sam cut himself off, seeming to have realized something. “Randall. Hey, weren't you there the night that guard died?” 

That caught your attention. You threw a look to the guard in the other part of the bathroom ensuring he was focused on other prisoners and not Sam and Randall’s conversation.

“Yeah,” the man replied.

“Well, what happened?” Sam pressed.

“They say the stress of the job got him.”

Sam stopped mopping. “Yeah? What do you say?”

Randall didn’t answer. “Why are you inside, kid?”

“ 'Cause I got an idiot for a brother.”

“That'll do it,” Randall replied. “Well, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the damn Hilton.”

“You spent time in the old block?” Sam questioned.

“Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer.”

“Didn't they have Mark Moody over there for a while?” Mark Moody was the man who Sam and Dean suspected of being your ghost killer.

“He was there. Yeah I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it,” Randall explained.

“Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?”

The older man chuckled. “Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice. The next morning, I was in his cell, mopping up the blood. What a mess.” He shook his head.

“Wait. So he– he was beaten and– and nobody reported it?” Sam asked in confusion.

“You kept your mouth shut, unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, y’know?” Randall chuckled; the gravelly sound almost sending a chill down your spine. 

‘This guy could easily play Hannibal Lector,’ you thought.

“Randall, exactly how much blood was there?”

*** When working time was over, the prisoners had an hour in the yard before dinner and returning to their cells. You watched from the far corner of the fence while he played poker with every man who was dumb enough to try him for cigarettes. You folded your arms across your chest and watched with amusement when Sam came up to him and began bickering with him about something.

Dean then stood and yelled, “Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?”

He played several more rounds of poker, and you did your best to pry your eyes away from him so as to not arouse suspicions of any kind. However, that proved to be the least of your worries.

The guard from earlier whose balls you’d kicked in came up beside you and nonchalantly leaned against the gate. “You’re playing hard to get. It’s cute. I like it,” he said.

“Leave me alone, please,” you replied coolly. You were ready to bash his head in.

“Or what?” he challenged, still facing forward. “I think you owe me an apology for earlier. I’ll have a real treat for you tonight when we get off work.”

You jerked your head toward him. “You try anything, and I swear to god I will gut you.”

“Easy there, princess. It’d do you well to get in good with me. I’ll be able to protect you from them.” The guard nodded out to the inmates who would turn their heads every once in a while in your direction.

“Not interested,” you said simply. “Besides, I think I need more protection from you than from them.”

You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. “Maybe so. Maybe if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take it out on your little inmate friend over there.” He nodded toward Dean who was triumphantly fistpumping after winning another hand of poker. 

You looked back at him, worry swimming in your eyes.

“That’s right, I noticed how you keep looking at him. You’re not very subtle, I hope you know. And he’s definitely not,” the guard said. “So, if you wanna keep him alive, you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I’ll see you tonight.”

You stared at the ground ahead of you in fear and tried to think your way out of your situation. All that played over in your mind was the sickening feeling of his body against yours in that cinderblock corridor outside of solitary confinement. Bile rose in your throat, and the only thing snapping you out of your trance was the whistle indicating the end of rec time.

You went through the motions of your “job” by escorting the prisoners from the yard into the cafeteria for dinner. Your head was not at all in the moment or in the case, and fear kept your adrenaline moving for the next several minutes. It wasn’t until Dean got in another fight and nearly got himself killed that your adrenaline surged for a different reason.

“If we'd waited any longer, you'd be dead,” Deacon told Dean.

“You waited long enough,” Dean huffed, trying to catch his breath.

Deacon shoved his baton into Dean’s stomach, and you nearly lunged at him for doing so. He grabbed the back of Dean’s head and told him, “Do yourself a favor. Don't. Talk.” The warden looked up at you. “Take them both up to the infirmary.”

You and the guard who’d been harassing you did so. Dean noticed how off you were, but did his best not to convey what he knew. When you got both Tiny and Dean into cells, you had no desire to leave with the guard; afraid of what would happen to you.

You were almost angry at yourself. You were (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’d fought monsters, ghosts, and demons, and you were losing your mind over a guy that would shit his pants if he knew what you’d seen. However, the fact that he was still a very real threat drowned out those thoughts.

***

The man Dean had fought had apparently died in the infirmary; no doubt by the hands of the thing you were hunting. While Dean was fighting said man, Sam snuck to the room Moody had been murdered in and burnt the rest of the blood away, so you knew it couldn’t be him. All you could do was wait for the boys to talk to the other prisoners to get the name of your true target.

Later that night, you just wanted to make it back to the Impala when you got off your shift. You even waited a while after everyone else on your shift had left to make your way out of the prison. You hoped the guard whose name you didn’t even know wouldn’t make good on his threats. However, your stomach dropped when you saw him leaning against Dean’s car.

You stopped several feet from him.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he told you.

“How the fuck do you know what car I drive?” you questioned.

“It’s not hard. I mean, you’re the only ‘67 Chevy in the parking lot. Nice ride, by the way,” he said.

“Fuck you.”

In an instant, he was running toward you. You turned and sprinted away, only to be knocked to the ground by the man. He roughly pulled your hair back, yanking your head back against him. “Remember what I fucking told you,” he growled against your ear. “Are you gonna start playing nice?”

***

Everything felt wrong. No matter how many showers you took, you couldn’t scrub the feeling off your skin. Back in your motel room, you laid on your side wrapped in an oversized shirt. You stared at the wall in the dark, completely numb. You hadn’t even been able to cry since it happened.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. For hours, you laid there. You wouldn’t allow sleep to hold you close enough to darken the world around you. 

One thing you kept thinking was ‘I’ll never be the same again.’ The words played on a loop over and over in your mind. They danced around in your head for hours, taunting you. 

You wanted to climb out of your skin. Start the day over. You wished you’d fought back. Wished someone had been sound to stop him. The scrapes on your left wrist and arm were undoubtedly going to bruise in the morning, and your uniform wouldn’t exactly hide them. You knew Dean and Sam would ask questions, and the former would rip the guy’s head off. You didn’t even know that guard’s name. Everything just felt so wrong. 

But you wouldn’t let this stop you from doing your job. You wouldn’t let those boys brave that place alone with no word from you. And so, despite everything in your body telling you not to, you went back to the prison the next day.

***

You could tell Deacon knew something was wrong, but he didn’t press you further. The other prison guards didn’t seem to notice a difference in you; except, of course, the guard’s posse. They would snicker at you every time you walked past, and you could only imagine what your abuser had said about you. 

Thankfully, you only had to endure this last day of awfulness. Deacon was going to “fire” you right after rec time was over to give you enough time to get the Impala pulled around the back of the jail for the brothers to escape through. Your job was to wait for Sam to come over to you and give you the name of the person you were after and find what cemetery they were at. Then, you were going to get the boys the hell out of dodge. 

You watched the boys in the rec yard talking to Randall, the man Sam had gotten information from while they were cleaning the bathrooms. Then, the younger brother came over to you. 

“Hey,” he said, looking around to see if anyone was paying much attention to him.

“Hi,” you replied.

“Whoa, what happened to your arm?” Sam asked in concern, noticing your very obvious scrapes. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, I—”

“This guy bothering you?” That awful, familiar voice said from behind you. 

Without turning around to face your abuser, you replied, “No. Please, go away.”

Sam glared at the man behind you when he noticed how upset the guard’s mere presence made you. You could tell he knew the guard had done something to you; he was a smart boy. 

“Glockner,” was all Sam said to you before turning away. 

“Surprised you’re able to still walk—”

You immediately turned around to him and punched him square across his jaw. 

“Bitch!” he yelled.

“Fuck you!” you yelled. 

‘Deacon’s firing me anyway,’ you thought. ‘Might as well give him a legitimate reason to.’

You got down on top of the guard and started punching hard. His face was bloodied and bruised, the man barely hanging on to consciousness before you were pulled away, kicking and screaming by two other guards. They dragged you over to Deacon, who promptly made a scene of firing you. He escorted you out to the parking lot where he said the cops would be waiting for you to bring you in for questioning. 

Once the two of you were far enough away, he roughly spun you around to face him. “What the hell was that?!” he questioned. “You know they’re gonna be out for blood now!”

“I know that, Deacon! Maybe if your guards weren’t fucking scumbags, though, I wouldn’t have had to do that!” you yelled back.

“What?” his voice quieted considerably. 

“Nothing,” you said. “Just tell my boys I’ll be back for ‘em tonight.” You turned on your heel and walked away. 

“Hey, kid,” Deacon called after you.

You turned around. 

“Thank you. And… I’m sorry. For whatever happened.”

You nodded and turned back around again.

*** You discovered that “Glockner” was the name of a nurse in the seventies who’d been caught in the crossfire of the inmate uprising that occurred following Moody’s death. She’d been buried at Green Valley Cemetery following the severe cerebral edema the inmates gave her. 

You returned to the detention center under the cover of night and pulled the car around the back of the prison away from the parking lot where the guards were beginning to change shifts. You waited anxiously dressed in civilian clothes again for the boys to come out of the HVAC unit Deacon told you would be attached to the room he would be bringing the boys into following their staged fight. 

“Oh, man, are you a sight for sore eyes,” a familiar voice rumbled. 

Dean and Sam leapt over the fence separating you from them, and you couldn’t help but collapse into Dean’s arms. “Whoa, sweetheart, what’s—”

“No time, guys,” Sam reminded you. “You can reunite later. We gotta go.”

As if on cue, an alarm began to sound through the prison. Immediately, you nodded and broke away from Dean. You headed to the driver’s seat so Sam and Dean could change while you drove. Quickly, you headed to the cemetery Nurse Glockner was buried in. 

***

The brothers caught you up on everything that had been happening to them since you hadn’t been able to talk much over the last week.

“What?!” you exclaimed, following them through the cemetery. “Henriksen’s here?!”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I wanted to get the hell out,” Sam told you. “They were gonna extradite us back to St. Louis or Baltimore or something. Whatever was gonna happen to us, it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

“Jesus,” you responded. “And no doubt, they’re gonna be looking for me soon, too. I beat the fuck out of a guy who knows I drive a ‘67 Impala.”

“What?!” both boys questioned upon reaching the grave of Nurse Glockner.

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah,” you said. 

“I’m gonna need a bit more of a response than ‘yeah,’ sweetheart,” Dean grunted as he began digging.

“Later. Let’s just get this over with, okay?” you said, helping the boys dig faster. 

You could feel both brothers staring at you in concern, but you couldn’t look up at them. 

***

When Glockner had finally been salted and burned, you and the Winchesters returned to the Impala and quickly drove away. 

“You know, I almost wish I could see Henriksen's face,” Dean joked as the Impala’s engine purred.

“Really? 'Cause I'd be happy if I never saw him again,” Sam replied tightly. “I mean, we're not really out of the woods yet, Dean, you know? You thought we were screwed before?”

“Yeah, I know. We got to go deep this time,” Dean responded.

“ ‘Deep,’ Dean? We should go to Yemen,” Sam quipped.

“Ooh, I'm— I'm not sure I'm ready to go that deep.”

You were silent the entirety of the drive over state lines and to a motel in the middle of wooded nowhere. You were silent through the check-in process, and silent when Dean crawled into your bed behind you later that night. He began to kiss down your neck, and you wanted to enjoy the feeling so badly.

“Dean.” Your voice broke as you whispered his name.

Immediately, Dean took his face away from your neck. “What?” he asked, hearing how upset you were. “What is it?” 

“I, um—” you started, unable to turn to face him. “I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked softly.

“The guard—” you said. “—from the rec yard. He, um.”

Dean lightly turned you to face him. “(Y/N), what’d he do?” His voice had darkened considerably at the thought of someone hurting you. 

“He, uh—” your breath shuddered, and you were unable to meet his gaze. “He raped me.”

You swear all of the oxygen looked like it’d been punched out of Dean, his face hardening in the darkness. “Oh, I’ll kill him—”

“Dean, don’t, okay? It’s not gonna—” you protested, reaching up to grab his face to make him look at you. “It’s not gonna change anything.”

“I know, but—”

“Dean, I thought beating him to a bloody pulp was gonna make me feel better. It didn’t. I just feel more disgusting. Like, why didn’t I do that when it was all happening?” You began to cry. “I just— I’m trying to forget it ever happened. And I know I won’t. And it’s awful. And I just— I need time,” you explained.

Silence settled over the two of you for a moment.

“Do you want me to leave?” Dean asked softly.

“I— I don’t know. I just—” You took a deep breath. “I don’t really know how I feel about touching right now. Can you just lay with me?”

He nodded and climbed into bed beside you, the two of you staring up at the ceiling. Wordlessly, you slipped your hand under the covers and reached for his hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing tightly. 

Your world was turning completely upside down. Your mind wouldn’t slow down, and you didn’t sleep much at all that night. However, you knew that whatever happened to you, Dean was there to keep you grounded. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[starlightazriel]

bee 8

desc: modern day bestfriends>lovers azriel au (fem reader)

warnings: lots of time jumps, rhys being rhys, arguing/angst, lying, az being unhinged in vegas (leave my bby alone he's not used to serious relationships), reader being insecure , SMUT ! (oral, az eating the booty like groceries (we been over this guys hes a freak), raw dogging, soft dom, self gratification,vibrator, squirting, spanking, cream pie), fluff, drug/alcohol addiction

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG MY LIFE IS V V MESSY AND UNHINGED ALSO THIS ISNT FULLY PROOF READ

MOOD FOR THE BEGINNING OF THIS

wc: 5.9k

other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel

eight

"I got us a massive suite at the four seasons for our trip this weekend," Rhys is grinning while showing Cassian a photo of what he had booked for them. Azriel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, only Rhys would drop that big of a bag on a weekend work-stay, they were supposed to be location scouting. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but him and Bee were in their honeymoon phase... Everything was just going right, everything except the fact that Rhys wanted to move him hundreds of miles away.

"This weekend?" Azriel grimaces, leaning against the reception desk in the shop. Kat had gone home already and it was just Rhys, Cass and Azriel left. "What if I don't want to uproot my entire life here and move to Vegas?" he asks then, Cass shifts uncomfortably on his feet, looking between his two best friends.

Rhys' jaw flexed and he leaned back, tilting his chin up at Azriel in that power tripping way that he did so often. Azriels jaw flexed, his hands balling up at his sides as he stared Rhys down, not shying away from his intimidating frame. He knew challenging Rhys never ended well, sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"You do realize that you have a contract, right Azriel? A contract that you signed, a contract that includes relocation if I see fit," Rhys voice is cool and unwavering as he assesses Azriel. "Maybe, if you had been sober while reading the contract, you would have known that was included," Rhys eyes narrowed, the tension in Azriels jaw grew, his temper flaring. "And maybe if you had been sober when we were talking about this trip weeks ago, you would have remembered that we were going this weekend to scout out a few potential new spaces," Rhys tone was unwavering, Cass winced behind him, it was always his job to keep the peace, usually between the three of them it was almost always Rhys and Az butting heads.

"Fuck this, I got dinner plans to get ready for," Azriels voice was a near growl now, and he didn't even bother to say good bye to either of his closest friends before he left them in the shop with a slam of the front door, the bells rattling at the top as it slammed shut.

His annoyance and Rhys' sheer entitlement had him needing to take the edge off. Az loved Rhys, of course he did, he was basically his brother- but that didnt mean they always agreed. Azriel tried not to think about Rhys' jabs at his sobriety while he took a quick sniff from his vile before heading home.

-

With Bee, it was just easy. Azriel didn't seem to have the same issues he did in the past with other women, being faithful to her came easy. He guessed it was because he always had been loyal to her in a sense, since they were just kids.

The past weeks had been a type of bliss that Azriel had never known, a different kind of high than the one he got from his drug of choice. They were fucking constantly, waking up together every morning, going on dates whenever they had time, fuck, he had even posted her which he had never done for anyone else... It was a picture of her at the beach, grinning so brightly it made his chest feel tight because he put that smile on her face. ive been so blind, was his only explanation under the photo.

And still, he wasn't able to bring himself to tell her about Rhys' Vegas plans for the next year. Everything was too perfect right now. Granted it had only been a few weeks since their first date, but he just didn't wanna mess everything up so soon, he wanted to live in this perfect little bubble just a little longer.

"Az? You with me?" she giggles softly, her dirty martini pulled to her lips, her eyes glowing as she looked at him from under dark lashes. "I think I want to get the vodka pappardelle," she places her glass down again and points to the menu.

"Yeah, whatever you want baby, sorry," he ran his finger through his hair, leaning back into his seat, flicking his eyes back down to the menu. "Just- I know it's last minute, I'm going on a little Vegas trip this weekend with Rhys and Cass," he waited a second before looking up and studied her face, absentmindedly messing with the straw in his own drink.

"A Vegas trip?" Bees eyebrows draw together, her attention was already on him, the menu forgotten, he swallowed. "Like Las Vegas?" she asks, a little more slowly this time. "Why are you guys going out there?" the concern, the uncertainty in her eyes made Azriels gut wrench. He knew he should tell her everything now, tell her that the possibility of him living there next year was becoming less of a possibility and more of a reality. Sure, when she was done with school, she could be a nurse anywhere... But that was still a ways away.

"Boys trip," he shrugs, and it wasn't exactly a lie, it just wasn't the full truth. She looked back at him skeptically, and he knew he had to change the subject soon.

"Boys trip, huh?" she leans back, raising an eyebrow skeptically. In the past- boys trips were really only meant for single Az.

"I'll be good," Az flashes her a smile, he knew he may have used the wrong choice of wording. A year ago, a boys trip to Vegas would have meant unlimited blow, maybe even a threesome, hooking up with randoms, losing all of his money. "Gonna gamble for sure though," he sips his drink, she's still looking at him with a skeptical look as if she knew there was more to the story. Luckily for Az the server came back for the rest of their order.

"Have we made some decisions?" she asks, looking between the two of them, Az only jerked his chin toward Bee, he liked the smile it put on her face to be able to choose everything for them so they could try it together.

"Yes we are going to share the duck pizza and the vodka pappardelle, you want oysters Az?" she lifts her eyes from the menu to look back at Azriel, he smirks and glances up at the server.

"Yeah, we'll start with a dozen," he shrugs and the waitress beams, making sure she had everything correct before leaving the table. "Thank you," he adds, but his eyes are back on Bee.

"So boys trip to Vegas, kinda last minute huh?" she quirks her brow again, leaning forward, her elbows on the table, Azriel tried not to let his eyes settle for too long on her breasts as they spilled slightly out of her top. Of course he wasnt lucky enough that she'd already forgotten about it.

"Yeah, I mean, I knew about it.. Just forgot," he shrugs easily, nudging her foot under the table, her eyes are hazy but he can still see that skeptical glint in them. He didn't want to lie, or leave parts of the truth out... But he also wanted to have a good night before he had to leave in a couple days, plus, she was working the rest of the week until he was gone anyway.

"Interesting," she murmurs, rubbing her finger against the base of her glass. "Anyway, you better bring something back for me," she shrugs before taking another sip from her martini.

"I wouldn't dream of coming back without something for my girl," he licks his lips, nudging her foot gently again under the table, her cheeks warm at his words and she rolls her eyes playfully at him. Az knew he was good at distracting her, though he wasn't sure if that was really a good thing or not.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughs softly, the sound made Azriels chest swell. "Thank you so much," she smiles softly as the runner sets the oysters down on the table between them.

"Can I grab you anything else?" the boy flashes her a cheeky grin that Azriel doesn't miss, he clears his throat as if to remind him he was sitting there across from her.

"More lemons," Az says boredly but there was an edge of annoyance in his tone, making the boys head snap to him and he blushed slightly, nodding his head. He didn't need more lemons, he just wanted to be difficult, the level of jealousy he felt when anyone even spoke to her was something he'd never experienced.

"Oh, of course, I'll be right back," he swallows, before running off back to the kitchen. Azriels eyes snap back to Bee, who's looking at him with pursed lips.

"Azriel, lay off the poor kid he's like eighteen," she shakes her head slightly, he noted that her martini was almost gone now, she was definitely feeling it. He only shrugs, smirking at her, stretching his legs out under the table so they were more than in her space, the skin of her bare calf pressed against his pants, she's nibbling on her lip, her eyes growing darker with lust. He loved how easy it was for him to get her going.

"Here you are, enjoy," hes back quickly and he places the small dish of lemons in front of Azriel.

"We will," Az only nods, Bee makes sure to utter a rushed thank you to him, shooting Azriel another look. "Don't look at me like that, lemme see you swallow," he smirks suggestively and she lets out a little puff of air her jaw dropping slightly but she couldn't help but smile.

"Azriel, don't be gross," she giggled quietly but she was still squeezing lemon onto the first oyster, he watched as the juice dripped off of her fingertips and she picked up the oyster, her eyes meeting his.

"That's it," he murmured, watching her tip her head back slightly and open her lips, her cheeks warmed at the gravelly tone of his voice. "Good practice for when I make you swallow something else tonight," he smirked, sipping from his drink while he watched her rest the shell on her lower lip, he watched her throat bob as she swallowed, humming softly in approval.

"Mmm those are good ones," she giggled softly, turning the shell over and placing it back on the ice.

"Youre a good one," his lips twitched in a sheepish smirk and she held his gaze, her own full of so much love it made his heart rate pick up.

"Az Im worried about you, cheesy much? youre definitely going soft on me," she grinned so brightly it made heat crawl up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks.

His cock was aching in his pants, he couldn't wait to get her back home. His jaw flexed before he muttered "you're going to be my end I swear."

-

"I should have stopped after the first two," I giggled quietly as I stumbled into my bedroom, kicking my heels off behind me, Azriel was right behind me, I could almost feel his eyes burning into my backside.

"I told you," he says in that low husky tone he often used with me these days, it was laced with so much need it made my head spin. "Anyway, Im glad now because it will give you courage for our reenactment."

"Reenactment?" I ask, turning to look at him now my brow slightly furrowed. "Of what?" I ask curiously, taking each of my earrings off, I had obviously been wearing the ones from Az, I had every day since he had gifted them to me. I had learned that he liked to get rough often, I didnt want to chance losing them so I tucked them away carefully in my jewelry box.

"Of the day I walked in on you," his voice was so calm and commanding it made my toes curl, my breath hitched, a warm tingling sensation spreading throughout my pussy. My cheeks warmed at the thought.

"Az- I can't..." I breathed out, my heart rate picking up at the thought of just purposefully touching myself in front of him.

"I didnt ask if you could. You will," he says, his voice so sure, and he was right. Knowing what he could do to me... Anything he told me to do, Id do it. Especially when he sounded like that. "I'll give you about five minutes to get situated, ten if youre lucky but I don't think I can be that patient. Im going to show you what I wanted to do to you," he adds, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I was already moving before my brain could even process. My throat bobbed, my cheeks embarrassingly red as I retrieved the toy I had used that day from my top drawer and I left him alone in my room. It was annoying how easily he could render me speechless these days.

I slipped out of my dress and my panties, leaving them both on his bedroom floor, I didn't dare look at myself in the full length mirror he had. I let myself fall back onto his bed, inhaling his cedary scent just like I did that day he walked in on me.

My heart was racing as I spread my legs and placed my rose toy on my clit. I let out a small huff my eyes on Azriels open bedroom door as I let the toy suction softly to my pussy. My hand traveled up, caressing my skin gently before settling on my nipple, I rolled it gently between my fingertips. My breath hitched when he appeared in the door way, looking handsome as ever, my cheeks warmed at the sight of him. How had I gotten so lucky?

"That's my baby," Azriel chuckled darkly as he leaned against the door frame to his bedroom. I moaned softly when our eyes met, my cheeks turning pink. "Now if I had been bold enough that day, I would have got down on my knees like I'm about to now,"

"Az," I whimpered softly in desperation, the need for him starting to outweigh my nerves. It was hard to want to hide when he made me feel so sexy. A single look was enough to do me in.

"Shh baby," he hums softly and in one fluid motion, pulls me to the edge of the bed and slowly drops to his knees. I whimper softly as he brushes the sides of his face against my inner thighs, inhaling my scent before spreading my legs. I gasped softly my hand shaking slightly as I held my toy between my legs.

Azriel sucked gently and bit at the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, a guttural moan escaped my lips at the contrasting feeling. The sting of his little nibbles mixed with the soft buzz and suction from my toy had my back arching up. "Please Az," I gasped softly, I knew there would be little bruises peppered over my delicate skin.

"Please what baby?" he breathed out, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. My head was spinning, I didn't know if it was from the alcohol I'd drank at dinner or from the way he touched me, the way he took control, guided me. It just felt so right, so perfect.

"Please," I let a heavy breath pass through parted lips, my heart beating rapidly against my chest. "Please taste me, I need you," I begged softly, gasping as he pushed my legs up, the delicious scrape of his rough hands against my skin sending heat slithering down my spine.

"That's my good girl," he licked his lips at the sight of me, my legs spread and up in the air, bared to him except for my clit, the vibrator still buzzing around it. I was already so close, my cunt pulsating with need for him. My breath hitched when I felt his mouth on me, the slow lazy roll of his tongue on my second hole sending stars dancing in my eyes. I hummed softly, tossing my head back and letting my eyes squeeze shut, goosebumps raising all over my skin.

"F-fuck Az," I breathed out, the new sensation making my mind go numb. His thumbs pressed harder into the backs of my thighs, I arched my back slightly, gasping again for breath as he circled his tongue around and around my opening. He held my legs open as they threatened to close, quivering pathetically underneath his touch. It was only a matter of seconds before I was cumming, his name ringing out through the room, making him moan against me. My vibrator fell from my hand, gently hitting his cheek before rolling onto the floor next to him. I panted, my hips wriggling underneath him as he sucked the sensitive skin between my pussy and my ass before covering my entire cunt with his mouth. "Ohh my- fuck-" each word came out in a pathetic broken moan as he shook his head between my legs. I couldn't hold it back anymore and I was squirting all over his face, he moaned against me, pulling off of my pussy with a soft sucking sound.

He gently licked me down from my high, my body jerking with the aftershocks of my intense orgasms. "Damn baby I didnt know you could do that," his eyes are so dark and hazy with lust as he kisses back up my body, hes back on his feet now, hovering over me. "My little sprinkler," he teases before biting down softly on my nipple, I yelped softly, my body jerking.

"Az, I need you so fucking bad," I breathed out my eyes meeting with his. He grinned in that lazy way he did his face still glistening with my cum. He looked so damn happy, it made my heart sing. It had been a bit of a rare sight these last couple years... But these past few weeks? He had been nothing but happy, it made my chest swell knowing I was the cause of that happiness.

"I was gonna put my cock in your mouth first but since you've been so good we'll save it for later," he stood up straight, looking down at me hungrily, my legs laying lazily over the edge of the bed now. He undid his pants, his eyes never leaving me as he dropped them to the floor. "Lay on your stomach," he commanded, his voice gravelly. He watched me readjust myself, cursing quietly under his breath as I lay on my stomach across his bed before him.

I let out a moan when his hand unexpectedly connected with my ass with a loud slapping sound, the sting sending my toes curling. He gently lifted me up, his arm wrapping around my torso and lifting up with ease. He slid a pillow underneath to prop me up perfectly. Azriel gently rubbed his rough fingers over the tender spot he had smacked, humming in approval. "Ive wanted to do that since I watched you walk away from me in the hall that day," he admits, only earning a whimper in response from me. I was so ready for him to fuck me into nothing.

I shivered as Azriel slowly slid his fingertips over my shoulders and down my arms gently wrapping his large scarred fingers around the tips of his fingers pressing into the insides of my elbows as he pulled my arms behind my back. He used one hand to pin my wrists to my lower back, I whimpered softly, begging him for his cock again as his hand tightened on my wrists, his large hands finding no trouble.

He used his other hand to guide his cock toward my pussy, not bothering with a condom. If it was one thing about Az, we were fucking raw, every time. He slid his tip over my slick cunt, teasing gently before sinking into me, cursing softly under his breath as he did. "Yes please fuck me, please," I begged desperately, the side of my face pressed into his bed.

"That's my girl, so wet and tight for me," his fingers were gripping the bed beneath me, his mouth almost by my ear now as he moved in and out of me his cock filled me up over and over.

I moaned his name again, arching my back up for him, he hissed under his breath and spanked me again, I felt my ass jiggle under his big hand, the sting made my body jerk. "I love how you fuck me," I whimpered softly, feeling like a puddle beneath him, he still my hands pinned to my back, he let out a low groan from deep in his throat, up on his knees as he slammed his hips over and over against my ass.

I let out another broken moan, his considerable length dragging over my g spot every time he thrusted himself into me, I couldnt hold it in anymore and I came all over his cock with my third orgasm of the night, stars danced behind my eyes my body tensing underneath him. I couldnt stop the scream that left my lips as he continued fucking me, cursing again softly and squeezing my tender and red flesh from his spanks. "Ohh yesss Az..." I moaned again, his thrusts lost their rhythm as he grew closer, his breath heavy and erratic behind me.

"Mmm baby you're so fucking sexy," he breathed out before letting out a low guttural groan. "I'm gonna fill up that pretty little cunt," he grunted in my ear and with a few more thrusts I cried out softly at the feeling of his thick ropes of cum spilling into my pussy. So damn good. "Fuck," he breathed slowly pulling his hands from my wrists, my arms fell back at my sides and I whimpered softly as he slowly pulled his cock from my pussy. He swore again under his breath, "Stay just like that," he muttered, leaning over and grabbing his phone from the bedside table, and I felt him slap his still semi hard cock on my ass cheek. "For later," I could hear the grin in his voice as he snapped a picture of his gleaming cock against my ass. I just whimpered softly in response, my body feeling limp my mind numb. He tossed his phone aside on the bed and flipped me over onto my back and placed a soft kiss to my lips.

I had been waiting to get fucked like this for years. None of my past lovers had ever been able to compare to the way that Az made me feel, though if things hadn't gone the way they did with Az I probably would have ended up giving Eris another chance.

"You're so damn good at fucking," I huffed out, looking up at him with hazy satisfaction. "It's not fair," he just laughed and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead and then my lips. I let my eyes flutter shut again as he tucked my hair behind my ear before he muttered "let's get you cleaned up baby."

-

"Send me lots of pictures," Bee flashes her biggest grin, hugging Azriel so tightly. He smiled down at her, squeezing her back and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He was glad she had brought them to the air port, it gave him just a little extra time with her.

"I promise baby I will, I'm gonna miss you," he rubs small circles into her back, savoring the last few minutes they had together before he was on the plane.

"Be good okay?" she drops her voice lower, Rhys and Cass were standing off to the side waiting for him while he said his last goodbyes. He could tell she didn't want them to hear this part. "Just like- stick to drinking and bud okay? Just don't want you to buy something without knowing what it is for sure first.." she mumbles softly, biting down gently on her lip.

Az sighs quietly, pulling away slightly at her words, he knew she meant well but he couldn't help but get the tiniest bit annoyed. "I'm gonna be fine, chill off me," he chuckled quietly but leaned down and pressed one more kiss to her lips, because he know she was only saying that because she cared about him... She had never exactly supported his extracurricular activities. "I'll be good, and you better be good too," he warns playfully, but there was a slight edge in his tone so she would know he did mean it. "You're mine now, I don't want to hear about any red headed visitors," he raises an eyebrow and she pursed her lips, glaring lightly at him.

"Azriel. You know I would never-"

"I know," he cuts her off, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I gotta go baby, text me when you're home safe alright? I'll text you when I land," he opens his arms one last time to crush her in good bye hug, she hums softly tucking her chin into his neck and inhaling his scent.

"I love you," she mumbles softly, he just grinned and hugged her even tighter, he kissed the top of her head, not daring to utter it back yet. Some things he just wasn't ready for.

He had told her he loved her dozens of times, but he knew the next time he said those words to her, they would carry a whole different weight.

-

It was evening on the second day when they finally made it out onto the strip, the first day had been filled with scouting out locations. Rhys had already signed a lease, much to his own surprise, he thought he'd have to come back a few times before finding the perfect spot for their new shop. The signing was followed by a very late dinner and a few bottles of champagne before they retreated back to the massive suite Rhys had got for them.

Azriel had to admit, he liked it here. He was having a blast with his brothers, and he hadn't wanted to admit it before but he could see himself living here. He knew this would be a level up for him, he would make way more money out here... Plans were already stirring in his head for how he would convince Bee to move out here with him, she would have to transfer schools, quit her job... He knew that was a lot to ask. He couldn't imagine not living with her anymore...

"Sin city baby!!! AZ! Get outta your head man do you see this shit?" Cass had been excited since the moment they stepped off the plane yesterday, they were all quite fucked up now. They had been gambling all night, winning and losing money and had now settled in one of the nicest clubs Azriel had ever been in. There was half naked bottle girls everywhere, and of course Rhys had got them a VIP section with bottle service included.

"Oh I see it," Azriel laughs softly, catching the eyes of the bottle girl who was leaning very close to him as she poured shots for the three of them. She was definitely giving him the eyes. Azriel had to look away then, turning his head back toward Cass. "I'm just fucked up," against Bees wishes, the first thing he had done this morning was purchase a gram.

"Better hope that shit didn't have fenty in it," Rhys turns his head to look at Az, who rolls his eyes in response.

"It's doesn't," he snaps back, before downing another shot, he didn't even know how many he'd had at this point. "It's just good shit you want a line?" he raises his eyebrows, there had been a time the three of them did this all together. Az just never grew out of it...

"I'll take one man, I'm in fucking Vegas!" Cass shouts, earning a laugh from Az who simply passed the little white bag over. This was one thing about Vegas he liked, the freedom of just being able to do a line in the club and no one even batted a single eye because it was Vegas, and obviously one of them had money if they had a VIP here.

"Some day the two of you will grow up," Rhys sighs before beckoning the bottle girl over for the list of bottles they could purchase.

"Get the Clase Rhys we are celebrating!" Cass voice boomed out and he shot to his feet, shaking his head with the effect the drugs had on him. Azriel just laughed and snatched his little bag back from him.

"Easy," Az laughs again, catching the bottle girls eye again, he didn't mean to, she was fucking staring. She flashed him a seductive little grin before retreating to get the bottle that Rhys had ordered.

He knew a few months ago he would have flirted a little and ended up taking her back to the room. He wasn't single anymore though, and the pain it would cause Bee just for him to get his nut off for a night while he was on his boys trip, it just wasn't worth it. Plus, he needed her to know he wasn't that guy anymore. He wanted to be everything for her.

-

"No fucking way," my phone tightened in my hand as I stared down at it, Kat and I were out to brunch, she figured we should have a little girls weekend while the boys were away. So finally we were able to do something since I had Sunday off, Az wouldn't be landing back home until late tonight.

"What is it?" Kat asks, lifting her eyes from her plate.

"Go look at fucking Cassian's instagram," I said through gritted teeth as I swiped through each photo from their apparent escapades lastnight.

There was my Az, my Az... Grinning wickedly, leaning over, face smushed between the tits of two bottle girls who were wearing nothing but lingerie to cover their most intimate bits. He had his arms around each of them, a drink nearly spilling over one of their shoulders. His pupils were blown out, clearly he hadn't listened to me about staying away from drugs out there. My heart was sinking further with the scroll of each photo. There was another snap shot of him dancing with one of them, she was bent over, her ass shaking on him, one of his hands loosely on her waist.

"Oh fuuuck.." Kat drew out the word, her eyes widening as she looked down at the photos on her phone.

"Yeah fuck is right," I locked my phone, tossing it on the table next to me before downing the rest of my mimosa. "I fucking knew it, he hasn't changed even a little bit- As soon as he said boys trip I-"

"Boys trip?" she asked, drawing her eyebrows together. "That's what he told you?" she asks, biting her lip and gnawing on it a bit. What the fuck did she know?

"Kat...?" I say slowly, meeting her eyes, her cheeks are flushed as if she had just said something she knew she shouldn't have.

"I- I'm sure Az is going to tell you- I don't think it's my place to-"

"Just spit it out," I was starting to get more angry, the gnawing feeling of shame starting to eat at my stomach. "What do you know?!" I demanded and she loosed a breath, leaning back in her seat.

"Bee- I swear I thought he told you- Please don't tell him it was me that said anything I'm sure he's just waiting for-"

"Just spit it out Kat," I repeat, an impatient edge to my tone. What had he kept from me?

"It was a location scouting trip- For-for the new shop that Rhys is opening up with Az and Cass in Vegas," her voice is soft now, and she's almost wincing as she waits for my reaction.

Just like that... It felt like everything had been some sick game to pass the time. My stomach turned, I felt like I was going to lose everything I had eaten on our little brunch date.

"I'm so fucking stupid," I breathed softly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I really thought I knew him better than that... I never expected him to pull some shit like this. To keep something this big from me.

-

Azriel groaned loudly as he rolled over, the silky sheets slipping from his skin as he reached for his phone. He smiled, noticing the few notifications he had from Bee, his face quickly fell, and he was sitting up straight in an instant rubbing his eyes.

good morning!! can't wait to see you tonight

Normal, but the message below that one, and the notification that she stopped sharing her location? Definitely not normal. They had been sharing location for years, basically since it had become an option.

going to visit my family for a couple days i'll talk to you when i get back.

He quickly typed out a response.

everything okay baby?

He knew he had forgotten to face time her lastnight before he went to bed, but he was so fucked up he couldn't even remember getting home. And it had to have been almost 5 am when they had gotten back to the resort. She had asked him before they left to face time her before he went to sleep both nights, surely she couldn't be that mad over that, could she?

As he padded into the little kitchen that was built into the suite, his eyes were glued to his phone. He opened instagram next, and his stomach twisted slightly when he pressed her story and it was one of those dumb quotes girls tended to post after getting dumped about never really being able to know someone.

Fuck what did I do? his face had gone a little pale, the contents of the michelin star dinner they had lastnight and all the alcohol he had consumed bubbled in his stomach, he was racking his brain, trying to piece together the night, he couldn't really remember much of anything once they had left the casino and got to the club.

All he had to do was scroll down to the top post on his feed and his face paled. "Cass are you fucking dumb?" he's in Cassians part of the suite before he can even think shaking him awake.

"What the fuck man?" Cass groans, rolling over and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rhys was behind them now, he had been up for an hour or two already.

"You saw the instagram post didn't you?" Rhys chuckles from behind him, holding his coffee cup in hand, leaning against the door frame.

"You think this shits funny?" He demands, whirling around to direct his attention to Rhys. As angry as he was at Cass, he knew it was only his fault that he had bought coke and got completely black out shit faced drunk. "Man fuck both of you," he growls and turns on his heel, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

-

a/n: sorry but if it's one thing abt me yk i love drama

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