#so to be slapped in the face with the realization that 1) for some reason they dont want to give him that ambassador role

[unremarkablehouse]

Scully’s Hot Date Ch 2

MA | S6 | WC 2,720 | AO3 | ch 1

Summary: Mulder and Scully go on her blind date- with Derek.

Tagging: @today-in-fic

Scully walked out of the restroom of the Hoover lobby looking perfectly put together; not a hair out of place. Mulder waited for her casually by the restroom door, leaning on the wall still looking disheveled. While his hair was no longer sticking up every which way and he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up; he had failed to wipe all the lipstick marks off his neck and face. Scully chuckled as she took in his love drunk expression and got a tissue from her purse to clean him up.

“Mulder, did you even try to remove the lipstick marks?”

“Why would I want to remove them,” he asked as he moved his head down so Scully could reach him easier. 

As she cleaned by his neck he whispered to her, “I see these marks as a badge of honor. Do you know how many times I’ve stared at those lips and wanted to kiss them?” 

The tension between them grew and Mulder moved to kiss Scully, only to be stopped by her hand. 

“Cameras,” she whispered, and Mulder gave a nod and kissed her on the forehead instead. 

As they made their way out of the building they both looked around for Scully’s blind date. 

“So how are we meant to recognize this guy? Is he going to be carrying a single rose or something?”

Before Scully could answer him, a male voice spoke out from behind them. 

“Excuse me, Dana?” 

Scully turned around and was greeted by a warm smile from a handsome stranger. Roughly the same height as Mulder, with a fair complexion and sandy blonde hair. Derek’s eyes wandered from Scully over to Mulder, who was standing close to her with his hand on her lower back. With a smile, Mulder extended his hand and introduced himself to the confused man. “Hi, I’m Fox Mulder, Scully’s Partner.”

Scully gave a polite smile as she took Derek’s hand next and gave it a shake, “Dana Scully.” 

“And I’m Derek, nice to meet you, both of you.”

Derek gave a little laugh, and looked confused as he glanced between the pair. This was not the night he signed up for, but perhaps Dana had wanted a friend to be there when she met up with him. It seemed like a reasonable assumption seeing as it was a blind date, but there was something in the way the two stood united that made Derek wonder if anyone would have a chance to get between them. 

Scully gave a nervous laugh, moving over to talk to Derek and apologized by way of explanation. “I know this isn’t what you were probably expecting-“

“But let’s go grab a drink!” Mulder said enthusiastically slapping Derek on the back and inserting himself between Derek and Scully. Before they had even walked a block Mulder had already ascertained all of Derek’s favorite sports teams and had made fast friends with him. 

Scully half listened as the men excitedly chatted on about the Playoffs, amused at just how many times over the years Mulder had chased off any man (and some women) who’d shown the slightest bit of interest in her. Mulder was truly gifted at it, he could cockblock with the best of them. Well, at least this time she’d make sure Mulder put out after chasing her date away.

As they walked into the bar and grabbed a booth Scully found herself checking her watch. It was 8pm, by her calculations she could be back in her apartment by 9:15 and could have Mulder naked by 9:30 if they stuck to one drink and small talk. As Mulder nudged Derek aside to take the seat next to Scully, he casually rested his arm behind Scully’s on their booth seat and continued the conversation. Mulder’s arm behind her was a gesture he’d done a million times before tonight, but now Scully began to realize that it was not the most plutonic body language- and she loved it.

Derek’s eyes darted from Mulder’s arm to Scully and she subtly nodded in confirmation, a chance with her was not on the agenda for him or anyone else.

They had been seated for only a few minutes when Mulder abruptly stood up, declaring he’d buy the first round of drinks. It was the little crease between Scully’s furrowed eyebrows that stopped him from leaving the table. 

“What’s up Scully? You don’t want a drink?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just, Mulder you didn’t really have lunch today. Maybe we should get some food?” 

“I could go for some mozzarella sticks,” Derek chimed in. 

“Good call Doc, I’ll be back in a minute,” Mulder agreed as he moved towards the bar with new purpose. 

Scully and Derek sat silently in the booth for a few moments, an awkwardness growing as neither of them knew quite what to say. 

“So Derek, what line of work are you in?”

“I’m an Actuarial Analyst for the government now, I do a lot of work evaluating the risks and costs of crime. I was surprised that Mulder seemed to have quite a solid grasp on the area, was he in stats major before the FBI?” 

With a laugh Scully explained that Mulder just had a knack for picking things up quickly, a little surprised at how much the two had discussed while her mind had been elsewhere. Again, the two went back to an uncomfortable silence and Scully was even more grateful that Mulder had hijacked her night, having forgotten just how much she hated blind dates. A new topic of conversation would not come to her head to discuss with this stranger, so she looked around the bar trying to spot Mulder and will him to return to the table.

The sound of Derek’s voice jolted her back to reality as he tried to make small talk again.

“Mulder mentioned you’re a Bulls fan, Dana?”

“Not really.”

Derek looked disappointed that his conversation starter was a dud, so Scully clarified.

“It’s just that Mulder loves the Knicks, we watch their games together whenever we’re on the road. I really only cheer for the Bulls when they’re up against the Knicks to give him a hard time, but don’t tell him.”

Derek laughed at Scully’s admission, she was definitely a spitfire.

“As a huge Bulls fan myself, you picked a great team to support out of spite. How could you not love Jordan?”

”True,” Scully agreed with a laugh. Before they could continue she felt Mulder approach the table perilously carrying a pitcher of beer, two beer glasses stacked together, a glass of red wine and a metallic table number stuck under his arm. Deftly, Scully intercepted him and was able to distribute the glasses and beer to the table efficiently and without spilling a drop. 

“You two should take that act on the road,” Derek clapped, impressed by their coordination.

“Years of practice,” Mulder said while filling up Derek’s glass with beer.

Mulder placed a hand on Scully’s thigh as he nervously talked to her, perhaps still a tad insecure about Derek’s presence.

“Tonight is Five Dollar pitcher night for Feddies, I just had to show my badge at the bar. Scully did you want some beer?”

Scully smiled at his enthusiastic energy and rested her hand on top of his.

“Nope, wine was the perfect choice Mulder.”

Derek raised his glass and made the motion for the others to toast, “to new friends.” 

“To new friends,” they all repeated as clinked glasses. 

From there the conversation flowed much smoother, Mulder amusing them both with funny anecdotes of past cases and eliciting some decent stories from Derek in return. Scully was having a good time and was enjoying herself on this bizarre date. Mulder’s casual touches she’d taken for granted all these years now took on a charged meaning as Scully noticed how he always seemed to find an excuse to be in her personal space. His smell was intoxicating and she wonder if it would be weird for her to bury her nose in his armpit at the table. Giving an exaggerated yawn, she hoped Mulder would pick up on her sign that it was time to go home and finish what they’d started in the stairwell.  As Derek started talking about some trip to Martha’s Vineyard he’d made a few years back, Scully’s mind wandered to the state of her apartment. Her bedroom had clothes all over the bed because she couldn’t work out what to wear and she’d left her make up all over the bathroom sink. She hadn’t bothered shaving her legs or cleaning up her place tonight as she had no intention of bringing anyone back with her. Her underwear was on the plain side too, not the nice lingerie she’d pictured wearing for her first time with Mulder. The conditions were not ideal for tonight but she figured so long as she was on top and they kept the lights off it would be fine. Hell, after her two glasses of wine Scully was ready to straddle Mulder in the booth if they didn’t get out of here soon. 

Suddenly Mulder stopped mid-conversation and held his hand up for the table to be quiet while he listened. Scully’s stomach dropped, she knew Mulder was up to something and experience had taught her that it would more than likely end with them in a hospital bed after fighting some super natural specter then naked in her bed. Scully braced herself for whatever he had in store and watched with confusion as Mulder started waving at a pretty blonde nearby who made her way over to their table. Before Scully could question Mulder on his behavior or ascertain whether he had discovered an X file, Mulder got up from the booth and awkwardly guided the woman in Derek’s direction.

“Shauna, this is my friend Derek,” Mulder announced while keeping his eyes fixed on Scully. Mulder held his hand out to Scully and suddenly it all clicked, Walking in Memphis was playing on the jukebox and Mulder wanted to dance. 

Mulder led Scully onto the small dance floor by the bar, holding her a little tighter than the last time they danced to this song, nodding at Derek as he danced with Shauna. Mulder felt Scully giggle against his chest and lifted her head to ask what. 

“How did you orchestrate all this?”

“I met Shauna at the jukebox and asked her to help me out so I could dance with my girl.”

“I’m your girl?”

“Always… If you want to be.”

“Always,” Scully said, lifting herself up on her toes to give Mulder a peck on the lips. 

Adding a few twists and twirls, Mulder continued to dance with Scully as each song seemed to meld into one another. It felt natural to be moving together to the music, enjoying the physical contact between them. Scully pulled Mulder closer to her and inhaled his smell as he leant his chin on her head; the perfect fit. Scully’s hands began to wander over the tops of Mulder’s ass, catching him off guard. Giving his butt a firm squeeze, Scully laughed at Mulder’s fake look of indignation.

“Whatcha doing there Miss Scully?” 

“Come on Mulder, let’s go back to my place,” Scully said, punctuating her statement with a firm slap to his butt.

“We should probably say goodbye to Derek first,” Mulder said, hoping Scully would suggest just leaving. Scully sighed, a little bemused that this was the one time Mulder chose not to wonder off without notice. 

On reaching the booth they’d been in, Mulder and Scully were surprised to see strangers now seated at it. After exchanging looks of confusion, it dawned on them that they had been dancing for a lot longer than they’d both realized. Scanning around the room Mulder spotted Derek sitting at the bar, Scully’s purse and sweater on his lap. Mulder and Scully walked up to Derek and were immediately hit by the strong smell of alcohol. 

“Sorry we left you for so long,” Mulder said, giving Derek a clap on his shoulders. 

“Thank you for minding my things,” Scully said, gingerly prying her possessions from Derek’s clumsy clutches, while Mulder motioned for the bartender and got Derek some water. 

“So what happened to you buddy,” Mulder asked after encouraging Derek to drink some water. 

“Shauna, she wanted to do shots and then we had this car bomb drink, and some more shots. She’s crazy.”

Scully gave Mulder a disapproving look, silently judging his choice of female companion for poor, slightly boring, Derek. 

“Where’s Shauna’s now?” Mulder asked, more than a little worried to hear the response.

“Oh, she had to go home and let her dogs out, but I got her number and we’re going to a concert tomorrow.”

Mulder gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, a gesture reciprocated by Derek, while Scully covered her face with her hand and wondered how she could be attracted to such a dork.

“Let’s get you home,” Mulder said Derek, as he helped him off the barstool. Derek wobbled much more than anticipated and Scully had to step in to keep him up right. 

Outside the bar, Derek seemed to be okay walking with an arm around Mulder’s broad shoulders to keep him steady. Scully was irritated, her spot was by Mulder’s side, and on the night something finally happens between them- this guy was getting in the way. It was time for Derek to leave. 

Eyeing the street for a cab, Scully asked Derek what his address was. “Alexandria” was the only comprehensible part of the his response. 

“Maybe we can check his wallet,” Scully asked pragmatically, deftly find it in Derek’s jacket pocket along with a tab of six condoms.

With her eyebrows raised to her forehead, Mulder gave a chuckle. 

“Looks like you had some big hopes for tonight buddy,” Mulder said, earning him another thumbs up from Derek.

Putting the condoms back into Derek’s pocket, Scully felt indignant. What kind of woman did he think she was- the man’s mother had set them up for chrissakes! Scully briefly thought about shooting Derek, but realized she left her gun at home and really didn’t want to deal with the paperwork. 

Recognizing Scully’s rising frustration, Mulder propped Derek up on a bus bench and took over the search for his home address. As luck would have it Derek lived a block away from Mulder.

Moving Scully away from Derek, Mulder brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear, her face lost in contemplation. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place tonight? I’ll take Derek home and make sure he gets there and then we can meet at my place?”

“For what,” Scully asked bluntly and unamused. 

“Well we could watch a movie, or have coffee-” Mulder asked trying to add a suave subtext that came off a little desperate. Scully’s body straightened and Mulder could see that whatever fluke had gone on earlier in the night, the universe was self correcting and Scully was recoiling. 

“Mulder it’s late, I think I just want to go home.” 

With an understanding nod Mulder mumbled ‘of course’, and softly kissed Scully on the side of the mouth. If only Mulder had been petulant, pissy, or even dismissive, Scully could have walked away and pretended nothing had occurred between them. However, Mulder’s sweet dejected demeanor combined with a countenance that struggled to believe he was worthy of being loved was Scully kryptonite.

Scully grabbed his hand as he turned back to Derek, Scully smiled as she watched a glimmer of hope return to his eyes. 

“How about dessert? My place, after you drive the drunk fratboy home.”

Mulder beamed and kissed Scully in excitement, a move that had previously gotten them into this mess to begin with. Pushing Mulder away before the kiss could progress in the same trajectory Scully smiled at him, without words they shared their memory of the stairwell and the sexual tension began to rise again.

“This, is to be continued,” Scully breathed in a way that made Mulder’s knees go weak and motivated him to hoist Derek with great speed to his car.

With a rushed goodbye, in the FBI parking lot Mulder promised to be back at Scully’s within the hour.

[takkamek]

thinking about just how hard the decision to go to ferrari must've been to lewis. everyone can say that he's been a ferrari fan as a child, that's it's been his dream, but mercedes is was His team, his home. 12 years together. i do think it was lewis' intention to retire in mercedes but not like that and not so soon like the team (toto) were expecting him to do.

[phantomrose96]

So my mom's birthday was this week and I flew down with Patches to visit her for a few days. Patches, while a verified hater of the airport, really loves my mom's place because there are so many more closets to explore and birds to watch and cobwebs to dust with her stupid little face.

My mom also goes to bed earlier than anyone I know, so for the evenings it was on me to monitor Patches' activity. And she's very good. She's 99% good. She's 1% "could use improvement" good and the 1%, which I'd forgotten about, is tomatoes.

Patches will leave most things alone. (And by "alone" I mean she'll absolutely bitch slap them onto the floor, but they will leave the ordeal with just as many or few surface punctures as they had before the encounter started.) Not tomatoes. Patches has it the fuck out for tomatoes.

So when I noticed her batting something around on the ground I realized that my mom had left a sole, roma tomato in the fruit basket on the counter and it was now experiencing the life cycle of a pingpong ball between Patches' paws.

I take it away from her, like a fucking evil woman, and now I'm like "okay actually, where do I hide this." See at home I have an anti-Patches cabinet, which is for things that have no business living in a cabinet but which WILL have business dying at Patches' hands if left accessible. And this is WEIRD to have such a cabinet but it's my own home.

I'm scanning my mother's cabinets going "is this weird here? can the tomato go in my mother's dish cabinet?" And I briefly consider sticking it in the fridge, as a normal location, but the audacity of altering this tomato's ripening process is an audacity I do not possess. So I go with cabinet. I go with the first eye-level cabinet, which is the coffee mug cabinet, which is perfect because the tomato will not be lost to cabinet purgatory there, since my mom opens it every morning for her coffee. I will simply tell her in the morning that the tomato is there.

Next morning. Seeing as my mother goes to bed at the butt-crack of dusk she ALSO gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. This means I trail down like 2 hours after her with my work laptop and Patches. This is also now her birthday. I'm sharing the sofa with her for a good 15 minutes when I think to myself I'd like some coffee, and I remember I put a tomato in the cabinet. I tell my mom as much. I put the tomato in her coffee mug cabinet.

And the look I get is one I can't really figure out on spot. But she says "Chrissy this is the best birthday present you could have given me" which is a very weird response to the already weird statement "Oh you probably saw, but I hid the tomato in the coffee mug cabinet because Patches has it out for tomatoes."

So I do not at all know how this makes for a good birthday gift. My mom tells me how a week or two ago, she came home unloading groceries. At the end of putting everything away she could not for the life of her find her phone. Absolutely nowhere. She pinged it from her iPad and it started singing. From the fridge. She opened her fridge. Her phone was in the fridge.

A couple days later she lost Ash's collar. Spent three days looking for it. Couldn't remember where she'd taken it off or what she did with it. Showed up in the grass when she remembered she took it off to let him play fetch in the lake.

And then this morning, her birthday morning, she came into the kitchen, made her pot of coffee, opened the cabinet to fetch her coffee mug, and found... tomato. Singular. Tomato in the cabinet. Tomato she had no memory of placing in a cabinet. Tomato she could not possibly fathom having a reason for being in the cabinet.

She was like Chrissy I cried. She was like this is it, time to send her to pasture. She's a harebrained old lady now and there is no coming back from this. She's the lady who accidentally puts tomatoes in the cabinet. Awake before God, standing in the kitchen, signing her life away over this tiny roma tomato. (Roma tomato with little cat vampire teeth marks in it).

I was like oh. No. I put it there. Because Patches was going to commit war crimes against it. I put it there because I did not stop to consider "Will finding a single tomato in the coffee mug cabinet somehow be the very specific thing that undoes my mother this morning?" I put it there out of careful consideration for the life of this tomato, and with no consideration for the extremely esoteric way that a tomato in the cabinet could be received like a horse head in the bed, Godfather style.

We made a salad with the tomato. Happy birthday Mom.

[mistyorchid]

Meet-Cute (Ch. 2)

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

summary: Logan is a man of his word. You and Logan have your first date in the only nice restaurant in town, except it doesn't last long because you want him the food hot to go. Ch. 1 Ch 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, pet names (doll, baby), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, praise kink, light slapping, logan's claws come out, set after the events of Logan (2017) except he doesn't die, some angst it's all in logan's head dw. wc: 4k

Logan mindlessly traced the glass of water he'd been nursing for the past hour. The circular rim numbed his finger as he theorized all the reasons you might've been late.

He tended to foster seeds of doubt within his mind, an old habit that was built by decades of loss and betrayal. Romance was almost always an empty promise.

Logan checked the clock on the wall without moving his head, not wanting the other patrons to assume he was being stood up. He enjoyed wallowing in his solitude by drinking alone at dingy bars, but that was before he met you. Now, all he could fantasize about was showing you off to every establishment in town, softly guiding you to each bar counter by the small of your back.

The Italian place on fifth street, 8PM, you recited after exiting Logan's limo last night. Before opening the door, you checked your phone. 7:50 PM. You would've arrived twenty minutes earlier, but you didn't want to seem too eager, so you decided to touch up your makeup before heading out.

Logan noticed the restaurant's comforting hum cease when you entered the lobby. He's pretty sure he could hear some poor guy choke on a meatball, stunned at the sight of your little black dress.

You were busy exchanging information with the maître d', nervously darting your eyes around the room to find your date. When he realized you mouthed the word, "Logan," he sprung up from the booth and briskly walked to the lobby.

"Evening, doll," he beamed, extending his arm. A faint blush settled on your cheeks as you looped your hand around his bicep. He stole glances at your outfit as he guided you to the booth, suddenly leaning down to whisper, "You look stunning. I'm glad you came."

Logan gestured towards the seat opposite him, but you motioned for him to scoot further into the booth so you could sit alongside each other.

He raised an eyebrow, confused by the unusual arrangement. You explained, "I want to be next to you, if that's okay. Sitting across from you feels way too formal after last night."

Logan inhaled sharply, suddenly reminded of the intoxicating drag of your skin against his. He replayed the heavenly echo of your debauched whines in his head, silently praying that you'd let him hear them again.

"Yeah, of course," he agreed, sliding to the end of the booth.

You followed, leaving a small gap. The urge to connect your thigh with his was strong, but you tried to maintain decorum for the other patrons. Your eyes briefly met Logan's before surveying the table, noticing that the candle in the centerpiece was comically short.

"How long have you been waiting?" You asked, peering up at Logan's relieved face.

He stroked his beard, contemplating whether to be truthful or lie to save face. "About an hour," he responded. Logan decided that you deserved the truth; he wanted the foundation of your budding relationship to be built on candor. "You weren't late, I arrived way too fuckin' early. Haven't been this nervous for a first date since . . . well, ever."

You pouted your lips and gently placed your right hand on his thigh. He instantly flexed, surprised at the abrupt contact.

"Aw, baby . . . " You doted, slightly leaning to whisper into his ear. "There's nothin' to be nervous about. You already know I like you enough to suck your co-"

Logan swallowed the end of your sentence, his left hand cradling your jaw to angle your lips into his. You gasped into his mouth, earning a playful bite on your lower lip.

"You wanna give me a heart attack, doll? Jesus Christ." He muttered, releasing his grip on you and straightening himself in the booth.

You smirked, removing your hand from his thigh. A waiter appeared, acknowledging your arrival. "Ah, good evening, signorina," he beamed. "Mr. Howlett has been patiently waiting for you. Welcome to Frizzante."

While placing two menus on the table, he started reciting the specials, emphasizing the last item. "Tonight, our chef has prepared a Festa degli Innamorati. Lover's Feast," he translated.

Logan wanted the seat cushions to swallow him whole. Frizzante's sous chef was a personal friend of his; the bastard must've seen his name on the reservation and whipped up something special to embarrass him.

You stifled a laugh at the sight of Logan's dumbfounded expression. "It's served family-style, with two separate plates so you can share. It's a beautiful spaghetti dish blended with the savory roe of sea urchins and fresh margherita tomatoes. I assure you, it's an incredibly rich and unique experience."

"That sounds wonderful," you chimed, appreciating the waiter's suggestion.

Logan couldn't help admiring the sweet smile that spread across your face. He slid the menus towards the waiter before responding, "We'll take the Lover's Feast, thank you." He silently cringed at the feeling of the special name rolling off his tongue, but he found himself willing to curtail his pride if it made you happy.

The steady hum of the restaurant lulled you into a comfortable silence. The waiter soon returned with a glass of water and a warm basket that filled the air with the savory scent of flour and butter.

Logan picked it up, offering you a slice. "Would you like some bread?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." You giggled as you retrieved a slice.

After you sunk your teeth into the aromatic bread, he took a slice for himself. "What's so funny?" He asked, playfully raising his eyebrows.

You chewed slowly, savoring the richness of the dough. "You're being so . . . proper. I'm not used to guys treating dates like . . ."

". . . A date?" Logan finished, perplexed by your response. "Those guys don't know how to treat a woman." He huffed, wondering how anyone could fuck up the privilege of courting you.

Your eyes raked over his clean blazer, following the strong curve of his arm before landing on his wrist.

"You're wearing cufflinks . . . " You murmured, in awe of the lustrous material.

Logan moved his arm closer so you could feel them. "You gotta expect more than the bare minimum, baby." He chuckled.

You slowly swirled the round cufflinks with your middle finger. "So-" You paused, shifting closer so your bare leg finally grazed the cool material of his slacks. "-If you're so traditional, why didn't you pick me up?"

Logan cleared his throat, stunned by your confidence. "I would've, doll, trust me. Then I figured that you might've been uncomfortable if I asked where you lived. Best to meet in a public space," he reasoned.

His concern for your safety was undeniably attractive. You stopped tracing the edge of his cufflinks before whispering, "I fucked you within an hour of meeting you. I would've been comfortable giving you my address."

The fragrant smell of your pasta dish wafted through the aisle, momentarily relieving Logan from having to respond.

"Attached at the hip already?" The waiter quipped, noticing your proximity to Logan. He delicately lowered the platter onto the table, followed by two silverware sets and the most intricate plates you've ever seen.

"Buon appetito." The waiter gestured towards the dish with a grand flourish of his hand and then promptly walked away.

Logan waited for him to be out of earshot before saying, "I want to get to know you, but you're making it extremely fuckin' difficult with that dirty mouth of yours."

He used his utensils to scoop a large portion of pasta onto your plate before serving himself.

You bit your lip, picking up a fork to slowly twirl the fresh noodles. "Alright, what do you wanna know?" You asked, lifting the fork into your mouth.

"What do you do for fun? Besides fucking strangers within an hour of meeting them."

You choked on your food, shooting an accusatory glare towards Logan. "Okay, okay . . . you got me good. Um, I like going to shows. Punk, country, pop . . . I just love to feel the music in my bones."

Logan put his fork down and rested his chin on his palm, invested in your answer. He briefly envisioned your hips swaying to the soulful twang of Willie Nelson. "Live music, huh? I know a club around here that promotes every genre under the sun. We should go some time."

His left hand traced gentle circles on your knee. "This okay?" He asked, briefly pausing his movements. You rested your fork on the plate. "Mhm," you chirped, pleased by his courtesy.

"I also enjoy making art," you continued. Logan leaned closer. The majority of his past was dedicated to destroying things and harming people. He'd always admired those who used their time on earth to create.

"What kind of art?" Logan asked. You were distracted by the warmth of his palm, which was now splayed over the broad expanse of your thigh.

"I, uh- I like drawing, painting, making collages . . . mostly drawing, though. It's peaceful, you know? Making something out of nothing." You chewed the inside of your cheek, flustered by how intently Logan was looking at you.

He was daydreaming about making space for a studio back at the smelting plant, bringing you tea while you worked well into the night. The domesticity that he secretly yearned for manifested itself in your image.

"You're so beautiful, you know that? Could listen to you talk forever."

You smiled and bashfully looked down into your lap. "Thank you . . . " You lingered, focused on how he absentmindedly stroked your thigh with his thumb.

"What about you? What do you do in your free time?" You asked, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

"After work, I usually head to a bar and pop a couple of quarters in the jukebox to hear Cash while I drink."

Your eyes lit up at the mention of your favorite country artist. "Cash? Like, Johnny Cash? I love him."

Logan couldn't believe that you didn't make a snide remark about his "hobby." He elaborated anyway, not wanting to seem lazy in comparison.

"Yeah, exactly. I also like fixin' old motorcycles and gardening. Keeps me in shape, I guess." He didn't miss the way your thigh flexed, reacting to his words.

You loved a man who was handy . . . in more ways than one.

"You wanna get out of here?" You asked, desperate to relieve the palpable tension that settled in the charged space between your bodies. Your senses were overwhelmed again; the heady scent of his cologne mixing nicely with the smokey tendrils emanating from the candle.

Logan smirked. "I thought you'd never ask. My place or yours?"

Although your apartment was only a short walk's distance from the restaurant, you wanted to immerse yourself in a slice of Logan's world.

"I'd love to go home with you, if that's okay." You shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He fished out his wallet and haphazardly threw more than enough cash to cover the bill and your waiter's tip. The velvet material of your dress bunched around your thighs, further exaggerating the short hem.

Logan averted his eyes as you slid out of the booth. You turned around and tilted your head, realizing why he wasn't looking at you. "You're such a gentleman," you praised, straightening your dress.

Logan didn't feel like a gentleman when he helped you into the passenger seat of his limo. He almost opened the back door, reminded of your first night together.

Your eyes grew heavy an hour into the drive. You yawned, soothed by the soft turns of the road and the limo's plush headrest.

"Sorry, doll. My place is a bit farther, away from the city." Logan apologized. "Feel free to rest up. I'll wake you when we get there," he continued.

You surrendered to your fatigue and closed your eyes. "Mkay. Thanks, Logan."

He smiled, glancing at the passenger seat a few times to admire how peaceful you looked.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was Logan's callused hands supporting the back of your knees and your spine. You felt pleasantly weightless above the ground, realizing that Logan was carrying you past the threshold of a doorway.

"Mornin," he joked, noticing you scanning your surroundings. It was still late in the evening.

"Didn't want to wake you," he whispered, gently setting you on his bed. The smooth texture of the sheets contrasted with the rough corrugated walls of your environment.

"Where exactly do you live?" You asked, puzzled by the industrial nature of his home.

"A smelting plant north of the border. People leave me alone out here," he chuckled.

Logan exhaled as he sat on the edge of his bed, turning to meet your shocked expression.

"You mean I'm in Mexico right now? Logan!" You exclaimed, lightly slapping his arm.

He caught your wrist, weaving his large fingers through yours. "You're lucky I'm such a gentleman," he teased, reiterating your choice of words a few hours prior. Your hand relaxed into his.

"First, you followed me into my car. Tonight, you fell asleep while I drove to fuckin' Mexico. Now, you're in my bed wearing nothin' but a cute little dress," Logan smirked, letting his hand fall on his knee. His back ached from turning to caress your palm.

You blushed. "I can tell you're a good guy. I wouldn't have gone home with you if I didn't."

Logan doubted your praise. I'll force myself to pretend that's true, he thought.

The comforting chirp of cicadas serenaded you from outside. Linen curtains gently billowed above your head; the cool night air swathing your body like a translucent blanket. Logan suddenly averted his eyes, exposing the rugged plane of his neck. You breathed in notes of fresh cotton and bourbon as his potent cologne fanned out across the room.

"I need you, Logan." You sighed, slowly drifting onto your back and languidly spreading your legs. Your dress prevented you from fully relieving the throbbing sensation in your core, so you settled for tracing the inside of your thigh instead.

You faint sighs cascaded over your arched form and into Logan's ears like a siren's song.

Too many fuckin' layers, he thought, quickly unbuttoning his blazer and dress shirt before tossing them onto the floor.

He groaned when you skimmed the hard outline of his torso, gently tracing a prominent scar that ran across his ribcage. Logan leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and releasing hushed breaths.

He could get used to you tending to his wounds.

Logan strained his back to grip your legs, swinging you around so that your lower half hung over the bed.

"Can I take this off for you, baby?" He whispered, gathering the material of your dress by your hips.

"Mhm . . . " You nodded, hooking your knees over his shoulders for support. His palms firmly slid up your thighs and effortlessly shimmied the dress below your ass, pausing when the hem caught on the underside of your breasts.

He purposefully pressed the material harder against your torso before exposing your tits, forcing them to bounce harshly against your chest.

"You're so pretty," he sighed, cupping your breasts and leaning forward to gently tug on your nipples with his teeth. You bit your lip, knitting your eyebrows together as you admired how content he looked.

Logan's cock twitched in his slacks when your breath hitched in your throat after a particularly hard tug.

"You like when I make your tits sore, hm? Want me to make it all better?" He cooed, blowing lightly on your stiff nipples before enveloping them with his mouth.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head when you grabbed a fistful of his hair.

You crossed your arms, hastily moving your dress over your head. Logan paused, realizing that your shoes were still on. He slowly released your tits as he slinked down your body, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your stomach.

"Fuck," Logan moaned, now eye-level with your cunt. Your cotton underwear was soaked, clinging to the outline of your lips.

It was the simplest pair you owned, but Logan marveled at it like it was the most expensive set in the world.

He pushed closer, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. He arched his back slightly to accommodate the stretch.

"Can I taste you, baby?" He pleaded, staring at your dilated pupils.

"'Course you can, Logan . . . You can do anything to me, I-" He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your underwear, tasting the wetness that escaped the material.

The delicious pressure of his tongue cut off your response. "I trust you," you continued.

You whined when Logan distanced himself from your core to unbuckle your shoes.

"Shhh, let your old man make you more comfortable," he doted, placing a sweet kiss on your heel.

He resumed a kneeling position, sliding his hands under your thighs and bringing your clothed cunt closer to his hungry gaze. The intoxicating musk of your arousal unlocked a primal instinct within Logan.

A primal groan ripped from his throat as his claws unsheathed on either side of your face. His cock bucked into the unforgiving material of his pants.

After realizing what he'd done, Logan quickly withdrew his claws. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, doll, I could've hurt you . . . won't happen again," he apologized profusely.

You propped your elbows on the bed to get a better look at the bloody slits between his knuckles. "Oh my god," you gasped, eyes widening in fascination. "Are you a mutant?"

Logan's eyes slowly met yours, initially afraid to be met with a fearful expression. "Yes, I am. I've always had these claws, but they weren't always this-" Logan flexed his arm, a faint snikt sound filling the air. "-sharp," he continued.

Logan held his breath as you slowly ran a finger along the blunt side of the blade, admiring the way it reflected the moonlight.

"They're beautiful, Logan." You carefully guided his right hand to rest on your thigh. "Can you tear this off?" You asked, lightly snapping the underwear elastic against your hip.

"I don't want to hurt you, doll." Logan's claws hesitantly hovered over your skin.

"I trust you, remember?" You pulled the elastic away from your body, allowing him to lightly twist his wrist and cut through the fabric.

You gasped as your underwear scattered on the bed. Your cunt fluttered around nothing, suddenly exposed to the cool night air and Logan's unwavering gaze.

Your empathy startled him. Those who had gifted him their trust had often suffered, cursing him to an eternity of self-loathing. He felt undeserving of your kindness.

"Wanna make it up to you," he promised, moving your legs onto his shoulders.

The tantalizingly slow drag of his tongue against your folds made your thighs quiver against his head. He chuckled, prying your legs apart with his callused palms.

He gently lapped into your eager hole, moving his head up and down to increase his range of movement.

You mewled when the tip of his nose bumped against your clit.

"Oh, fuck. My girl's rosebud is so sensitive . . . " He groaned, lightly kissing your clit before sucking it into his eager mouth.

His right hand inched up your thigh, teasingly stroking the apex of your leg.

"How many fingers can you take, doll?" He slowly slid his middle finger inside, palm flushed against your sensitive folds. His lips were still stimulating your clit, now adding the delicious drag of his finger.

Your hips raised off the bed, eagerly meeting his thrusts. "Ah!" You whimpered after Logan pulled out before adding a second finger. He spread his digits, satisfying the hollow throb in your core.

"Three . . . I need three," you elaborated, biting your lip to stifle your needy moans.

His fingers slipped out of your cunt with an embarrassingly loud squelch before easing into your pliant mouth.

"Wanna hear you, baby. That's it," he cooed, making you enjoy the taste of your own slick.

Your tongue trailed the crook of his fingers, mimicking the patterns you traced on his cock last night.

You whimpered when Logan used your saliva to guide three fingers into your weeping pussy.

"Holy fuck, Logan . . . Mm," you babbled, eyes glazing over at the overwhelming feeling of his thick fingers stretching your walls.

If you could sit upright, you'd wipe that cocky grin off his face.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me, doll. Takin' me so well," he praised, focused on increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh, I know you want my thick cock, baby . . . Is that why you chose three, hm?" Logan taunted, abruptly pausing his movements.

You whine, spreading your legs even farther apart to invite him back in.

"Yes, fuck-" you admitted, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of fingers returning home.

You felt Logan smirk into your clit as he confessed, "You think you can come without my cock? Tonight's all about you, doll."

The growing pressure in your abdomen threatened to burst, spurred on by Logan's filthy words. He enthusiastically lapped at your cunt, collecting the wetness that pooled near the base of his fingers and gliding up your folds before licking your clit.

He lightly slapped your pearl, motivated to usher in your release as you clamped your knees around his head.

"Holy shit, doll . . . your pussy's singing just for me, hm?" He hummed, referencing the vulgar sounds emanating from your folds with every thrust.

He expertly twisted his wrist as his fingers glided through your cunt. The new movement stimulated the sensitive nerves of your walls, earning a guttural moan.

"Oh my god, I'm . . . I'm coming," you whined, throwing your head back against the mattress.

Logan intertwined his left hand with yours, silently permitting you to squeeze it through your orgasm.

Your back arched, overstimulated by Logan's relentless attention to your pussy. You were too busy rocking your hips against his mouth to register him burrowing his cock into the sheets, a ragged growl escaping his lips as he spurted into his slacks.

"It's too- fuck, too much, Logan . . . " You stuttered, pawing at his forehead to distance yourself from his tongue.

You raised yourself on your elbows just in time to witness him savoring the taste of your cum, his tongue darting against the sensitive pads of his fingers and swallowing with a content moan.

"Mhm . . ." He drawled. "Sweeter than sugar, baby."

You covered your eyes and slumped against the mattress. Logan made you feel hopelessly giddy, and you loved it.

"Stop it, Logan . . . " You cringed, aware of the rosy blush that adorned your cheeks.

He scooped your knees with his right hand and supported your back with his left, mirroring the stance he assumed when he first laid you on the bed. You nuzzled your cheek against the soft pillow, thoroughly satisfied and exhausted.

The small twin-sized bed couldn't support the full breadth of his back, so he turned on his side, lovingly bumping his nose against yours.

You lazily stroked his graying beard, noticing that the whiskers closest to his mouth were damp with your arousal.

You blushed. Again.

"I usually don't even let guys kiss me on the first date. You should be grateful," You teased.

Logan lightly kissed your wandering fingers. "Trust me, princess, I am. Thank you.

Princess . . . that was new. You draped your left leg over the strong muscle of his thigh, suddenly needing to be consumed by his warmth.

He just coaxed an explosive orgasm from you using his mouth, and he was thanking you?

Words failed you. You decided to snuggle closer into the inviting expanse of his bare chest. Logan shamelessly gripped the supple flesh of your ass, pulling you flush against his body.

"I think our first date went well, hm?" He cooed into your ear. Your breathing slowed to the point where Logan assumed you had dozed off.

You felt his body still to avoid waking you up. He whispered, "I hope we get to go on a million more."

Your ears perked up at his covert promise of devotion.

I hope so, too, you thought before finally falling asleep.

Thanks for sticking around for Ch. 2 of Meet-Cute!

an: Their banter was so fun to write. Also if you don't go to shows (I'm talkin' small clubs, not stadiums) or make art shhhh wdym, you're literally reader?! Anyway, I specified those hobbies because everyone can do them, yay! The FBI-level questioning that usually occurs on first dates was shortened to keep this a true reader insert (my reasoning for reader's vague background.) *The jukebox bit is canon, from Wolverine Vol. 1 (Benjamin Percy.)

tag list: @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Slap a Bow on It

 "Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid. He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street."

@deadonmayn Day 1: Courting Rituals | Flickering | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight | "Are they gone yet?"

TW: Danny is thirsty as hell, mentions/allusions to nsfw but nothing explicit

AO3 Link

   Danny blinked.

   He could only assume that the crime lord, illuminated purely by the light of the fridge in the otherwise dark apartment, blinked back. The helmet didn't give anything away, red plating and slanted eye whites impassive. Good for being sexy menacing. Not so good for reading emotions.

   Danny blinked again, wiping the rheum from his eyes with pinched fingers. He squinted once more at Red Hood, who for some reason was in his apartment at - Danny glanced at the clock - three in the morning. He seemed perfectly content to be digging through Danny’s fridge, if a little sheepish at being caught.

    He should probably be more angry that his apartment was broken into. He absolutely was when he first woke to the uncomfortable feeling of an uninvited guest in his lair, but after seeing the vigilante’s arms laden with food his metaphorical hackles relaxed. The apartment was shitty anyway. 

   If anything, Danny was confused as to why he was here judging his fridge’s contents and playing Tetris with tupperware. It wasn’t like they knew each other. 

   Danny blinked a third time just to really make sure he was seeing what he was seeing, "...Hi?" 

   "Hey,"  Red Hood unfroze, seemingly recovered from being caught, and resumed stuffing what looked like a container of tamales into his fridge. 

   Danny couldn’t help but feel sullen at the dismissal. He'd woken up only for the admittedly hot trespasser with thick thighs to barely glance at him. Unacceptable. 

   "Do you want anything to drink?"  Danny must have been momentarily possessed by the ghost of Midwestern manners with how urgent the offer seemed. 

   "Nah," Red Hood stuffed another container into the fridge, turning to look back at Danny, "You don't have any allergies, do you?"

   "Nah."

   Red Hood nodded, pulling out a bag of rotten lettuce. He held it away from himself like it might try to bite him. In Danny’s experience, it very well could. 

   “Do you ever clean out your fridge?”

   Danny shrugged, “It’s finals week. I’ve got to keep my GPA above 3.5 if I want to keep my scholarship. No chores. Only study.”

   Red Hood nodded solemnly as he threw the lettuce into the trash, “No chores. Only study.”

   They fell into silence. Danny watched as the crime lord sifted through his fridge, pulling out rotten food as he went. “Is this because I decked that mugger? Cause’ he deserved it.”

   Red Hood very pointedly threw the expired milk carton into the trash can.

   “Okay then…” Danny yawned, “Well if that's all I’m going back to bed.”

   “Kay.”

   Danny shrugged, turned on his heel, and left the crime lord to rifle through his kitchen.

___👻___

   When Danny awoke the next day, he was greeted by a clean apartment. The absence of crumbs on the freshly swept floor felt odd on his feet, although it was certainly much more pleasant. The trash had been taken out and a new bag had already been installed. He passed by the sink on the way to make coffee, the dishes that had been filling it suspiciously absent. 

   Danny would deny to the ancients and back that his knees went weak when he found the coffee maker already set and filled with grounds... his sister must never know. 

   As he waited for the cup to brew, he opened his fridge for creamer only to come face to face with more home cooked food than he’d ever seen in his life. Danny pulled the food out plastic container by plastic container to stare at in disbelief. Tamales, chicken mole, Mexican rice, enchiladas, and carne asada… It was only a handful of containers, but still. It wasn’t as if his parents had done much in the way of cooking with all their time spent in the lab. Jazz could throw together something basic but nothing like this.

   The local hot crime lord slash vigilante had broken in at three in the morning to feed him and clean his apartment. Huh.

  No time to think about that. He has a final on differential equations in five hours and minimal time to cram. Danny stirs the creamer into his coffee, heats up some Mexican rice, and sits down at the untouched mess of notebooks, paper, and textbooks on his kitchen table. 

   He studies until he has to leave for the exam, only getting up to refill his coffee and get more food. The tamales are pretty fricken good, but they make it hard to focus on the numbers scribbled across his notebook. It’s like each bite is urging him to go back into the kitchen and cook, which is odd considering that Danny can’t cook and he already has enough food to last him through the next day or two (courtesy of the sexy crime lord). 

   He leaves the exam room feeling good only for his mood to immediately crumble when he remembers that he has an aerodynamics final at eight the next morning followed by gasdynamics at one. He takes a brief break to faceplant on the table, scream, refill his coffee for the umpteenth time, and eat some more food but inevitably resigns himself to pulling an all-nighter. Time becomes liquid after that. It’s all just a blur of numbers and properties and instructional videos. 

   At some point, he registers another presence in the apartment. Danny recognizes the ecto signature from the night before so he pays it no mind. Let Hood poke around, Danny has to read more about Newton’s Third Law. What was he going to do? Feed him again?

   The answer was apparently yes. 

   The background noise of shuffling in the fridge and washing empty containers stops and is replaced by soft, mechanical-sounding breaths. Hood is standing next to him, plastic container in hand as he watches Danny run through the Quizlet on his laptop. 

   Danny’s got around eighty percent of the terms memorized. Just another twenty percent to go. He types in the answer for a new blank. 

   Red Hood pokes his shoulder.

   Danny grumbles. His response came back wrong.

   His shoulder is poked again.

   Danny ignores it and moves on to the next blank.

   He continues unbothered for an uncertain amount of time. The words on the screen are blurry like he is trying to read underwater. His mouth splits into an entirely too wide, jaw-cracking yawn. His uninvited guest coos at him as Danny rubs at his eyes. The next thing he knows, his laptop is shut closed and moved away. It feels like any and all visual processing is delayed. Danny stares blankly at the spot the computer used to sit.

   Something slides in front of him to replace the laptop. His core chirps when he realizes it's food. Hood’s answering chirp as he guides a fork into his hand is deep and rumbly with the faint stutterings of a purr. Danny starts to purr in return as he sleepily munches on the casserole.

    Before long the empty plate is taken away. Danny slumps down on the newfound table space and tries to fight off sleep. 

   “I think it's time for you to go to bed.”

   “Noooooo! I’v gotta study fr' aero’namics.”

   “You’re slurring your words there, handsome.”

   Danny’s sleep-deprived brain screeched to a halt. His core chirped to attention, “Flat’ry ain’t gettin’ you nowhere.”

   “It was worth a shot.”

    Danny smushed his face further into the wood to hide his blush and distracted himself by blindly reaching for his coffee mug. Upon noticing, the vigilante moved it out of reach. Danny whined into the table.

   “You can’t overwork yourself like this, Danny,” Red Hood carried the mug to the sink and poured it down the drain. Cruel, cruel man. “I know you’ve got exams but your scores won’t be any good if you go into them like this. You've got to take care of yourself,”  He lightly squeezed Danny’s shoulder. Danny hadn’t even heard him move across the kitchen. “Can you do that, darlin’? For me?”

    Danny groaned, “F’ne. But only cause’ ur hot.”

   The vigilante snorted. It sounded odd through the helmet but not bad. “I’m happy to hear it! Now let's get you to bed.”

___👻___

   Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t stupid.

   He had been helping his parents in the lab since he was four, and he was nearly a straight-A student before the accident. He was an aerospace engineering major with a hefty GPA of 3.8, and most importantly, he’s had extensive lessons on ghosts, the Infinite Realms, and their culture. 

   He could be a bit oblivious, but he always got there in the end. 

   So when Danny woke up the next morning and realized that last night wasn’t a dream, he had an epiphany. The thought kept running through his head as he stared at the food in the fridge, the clean apartment, and the prepped coffee maker. 

   He was being courted. 

   He was being courted by the super hot and apparently undead crime lord who ran the haunt on the other side of the street. 

   Danny had never been courted before! 

   Sure, occasionally there was someone who tried to shoot their shot, but it always fell flat in the end. It was an unfortunate side effect of being undead. Every human relationship he had felt… lacking. Like it was missing something. 

   Val had come pretty close. All the fighting and shooting felt like a mimicry of ghostly courtship behavior. It's what had drawn Danny to her in the first place, but Val wasn’t fighting him in a display of power and capability. She had genuinely wanted to end him. 

   There was also the incident with Kitty, but she was overshadowing Paulina and mimicking human behaviors. There was never any ghostly courtship involved, and besides, she was only dating him to make Johnny jealous. 

   This is Danny’s first time being properly courted!

   What is he going to do about it?

   He decided that the question could wait until after finals.

   The next few days pass by much the same as before: a tortuous cycle of studying, caffeine, minimal sleep, screaming, and exams. Red Hood continues to stop by and deliver food. Danny has got to figure out the dude’s actual name or a nickname or something. He refuses to keep calling his potential partner Red Hood. When you take away the scary crime lord persona it just sounds like a condom brand. He could always use a pet name, but it feels wrong given that Danny hasn’t shown much reciprocation outside of allowing Hood into his lair. Instead, Danny settles on greeting him with a trill and a series of chirps. 

   As soon as he finishes his last final he flops face down into bed. Tomorrow he’ll get to work on reciprocating Red Hood’s efforts. His kitchen is blessedly clean of any ecto contamination. Without the food fighting back, he should be able to whip up something presentable. How hard could following a recipe be?

___👻___

   Danny was wrong.  

   Staring at the stove which was somehow on fire, Danny couldn’t help but finally understand why Jazz had never allowed him in the kitchen. He quickly rushes to turn off the heat. Danny doesn’t have a fire extinguisher. He’s a broke college student with just enough money to live on the outskirts of Crime Alley. Why would he ever be able to afford a fire extinguisher? 

   Danny slams a lid over the pot to smother the flames erupting from it and wacks the stovetop with a damp towel. As the fire dies down he glares at the somehow burnt gnocchi sitting ever so innocently in boiling water. He probably could have just iced it. The ice would melt into water and put out the fire, right? 

   He takes another look at the ruined food as the bubbles die down and decides he’s probably just cursed. Not all hope is lost though, Danny reasons as he dumps the ruined gnocchi down the garbage disposal. So Italian cuisine was not his forte. That’s okay! He’ll just try a different recipe!

___👻___

   The recipe said quick and easy. 

   This was neither quick nor easy.

   He dumped the carbonized remains of food into the trash with a sigh. It was French toast! How could someone go so wrong with French toast? The kitchen looked like something had exploded in it for ancients’ sake! 

   Danny thunked his head onto the counter, uncaring of the milk and eggs coating it. An entire loaf of bread gone and not a single edible piece of toast to show for it! He groaned. Maybe he just… wasn’t cut out for this whole courting thing. 

   Dejectedly, he lifted his head and began to wipe down the counter with paper towels. He really liked Hood.

   He was funny! While he mostly left Danny alone during his study sessions, Danny had seen the viral videos. Hood knew how to crack a good death joke, and the compilations of him ragging on Batman were something to aspire to. 

   He cared for people! The sponsored soup kitchens and homeless programs were an open secret in Crime Alley, and the working girls were paid well. The street kids knew they were safe in the Alley because anyone who tried to touch them would end up with their head in a duffle bag. Red Hood protected them.

   And ancients was he hot! Thick thighs for days and strong arms that could probably lift Danny like a couple of grapes. Danny wouldn’t mind being thrown around by a guy like that. He would happily let him pin him to a wall and box him in and then Danny could sink his fangs into his shoulder and then- 

   Okay! Stop! Too far! That’s awfully ambitious for someone who can’t even cook a proper courting gift. Think, Danny, Think! 

  Okay… okay. So he can’t cook. That’s fine because Danny can build. He’s been building things since he was practically a toddler. He can make something easy peasy!

   What about a gun? Red Hood seemed to like guns. Danny’s core purred at the idea. If he had to guess, the vigilante had a protection obsession of some sort. A gun was something that could protect Red Hood but also be used to protect others in his haunt and directly feed into his obsession. Yes! The gun idea was good.

   But then again, Hood had been working with Batman more and more frequently, and with that had been using guns less and less. How often could the gun be used? No, no. This courting gift should be usable in all scenarios. 

   What about a knife? Yes! A knife could work! As far as Danny knew, Batman didn't have anything against knives. Surely a knife paled in comparison to Robin's katana. A knife was sneaky and quiet, good for stealth missions unlike a gun, and easier to carry for everyday use. 

   Danny hummed, nodding to himself. He’d do the knife first and save the gun for later. He was going to need supplies. 

   Danny wiped the dripping egg away from his forehead before it could get into his eyes. But first, he was going to need a shower.

___👻___

   So…

   It could’ve gone worse.

   Despite basically being raised reverse-engineering his parents’ inventions, Danny had never tried to make a knife. He could gut a microwave from the local back alley dumpster and Macgyver it into a functioning weapon, but building a makeshift forge on short notice and hammering steel down into a smooth curve was a whole different ballpark. Luckily the local trade school had a forge, and after some good old-fashioned bribery, they allowed Danny access. That was the first problem out of the way. Unfortunately, the second problem remained. It was fine. Danny was used to thinking on his feet. 

  After many YouTube videos and failed attempts Danny had a somewhat presentable blade. With a saw edge on the top and a sharp curve similar to a khukuri on the bottom, it certainly didn’t look like a beginner's design.

   He probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to a more advanced shape. Danny hadn’t managed to fix the slight warp of the blade, and maybe the practice beforehand would have done him some good. Regardless, it was too late to fix it after the ecto wash, and he didn’t think the warp would affect the performance too negatively. Besides, with the ectoplasm infused into it the knife should cut through ghosts with no problem. 

  Danny had spent entirely too long trying to find the perfect shade of red leather for the handle, but in the end, he accurately matched it to Red Hood’s helmet. He had wanted to incorporate some protective runes into the leather, but he had no idea how to make a lasting pattern that wouldn’t affect the user’s comfort. Eventually, he decided it was an idea to be saved for another project. 

   With his courting gift complete, all that was left to do was break into Red Hood’s lair and give it to him…

   That sounded wrong. Give the knife to him. It’s not an innuendo! Great. Now he’s thinking about those thick thighs again. Stop! Bad Danny!

   He shook himself to dispel the train of thought. Danny had a different, more pressing problem to deal with: How could he present a knife to a vigilante without it coming across as a threat? He didn’t have a box for it, and the knife didn’t have a sheath yet. He could always make himself the box and store it in his chest, but watching someone pull random items out of their body was apparently gross and disturbing, or so he’d been told. What if he just-

   Danny yanked open the kitchen junk drawer and began to root around. After a few seconds of sifting, he pulled out his prize and ever so gently stuck it to the knife. The green gift bow was squished on one end but remained comically large on the blade. He bounced up and down on his toes. It was so stupid that it just might work. 

   Feeling the cool rush of invisibility, Danny phased through the wall of his apartment to greet the early morning light beginning to peak over the buildings. Floating in the air for a minute, he absently fiddled with the bow on his courting gift. With the city starting to wake, Hood should be returning to his lair. 

   It didn’t take long for him to fly past the unseen territory lines and into Crime Alley. Danny had crossed through Hood’s haunt before. It had never felt aggressive like some in the Ghost Zone. Red Hood's haunt was more curious, probing with a warning to behave himself. The haunt felt different this time around. Now it felt welcoming rather than wary, warm. If Danny closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being held in a protective embrace. His core hummed in response, seeking out the other’s resonance. 

   Danny had never been to Hood’s lair. He hadn’t even been given directions, but he didn’t need them. He'd simply follow Hood’s ecto signature to where the haunt’s energy was most concentrated. Like the dead equivalent of a bloodhound. 

   Danny took his time meandering toward the heart of the haunt. He’d never been this far into Crime Alley before, and he didn’t want to get turned around. That was a lie. Danny was nervous and stalling. Doubts flew unbridled through his head.

   What if the knife wasn’t good enough? What if the bow didn’t work? What if Red Hood thought he was threatening him? What if Danny blew his shot? Danny had already screwed up so many other things in his life, he didn’t want to screw this up too!

   There was only so long he could stall. Jittery with nerves, Danny floated outside a decrepit apartment building. The entire structure was practically drenched in Red Hood’s ecto signature, but it radiated in waves from a unit on the top floor. Danny took a breath to steady his racing heart and struggled to quiet his core. It was now or never. 

   He cautiously phased halfway through the wall, chirping in greeting. The apartment was clean and orderly. The fireplace and full bookshelves gave it a homey feel that sharply contrasted with the worn and weathered bricks on the outer wall. The lack of weapons was a surprise. Even if he couldn't see them Danny figured they were still there, well hidden in the otherwise normal apartment. 

   A surprised sound draws his attention to the man on the couch. He’s built like a quarterback, lounging on one side as he struggles to stitch a laceration across his ribcage with a needle in one hand and a handheld mirror in the other. It's hard not to get distracted by the autopsy scar running cleanly across his collarbone and down to his pelvis. Danny wants to lick it.

   Piercing blue eyes search the apartment, arm lowering the mirror. Danny is thankful that he's still invisible. With the heat flooding to his ears, he’s sure he’s as red as a tomato. Danny’s practically drooling at tousled black and white hair and the long scar reaching up from under his jaw to his hairline like a flower stretching for the sun. His crooked nose, clearly broken and healed many times over, only adds to his beauty. Red Hood is truly a modern-day Adonis.

    Hood’s wounded side finally registers in Danny’s brain, rearranging his priorities and catapulting his obsession to the front. Immediately he lets his invisibility drop, absently shoving the knife into his chest for safekeeping. Hood makes a distressed sound as he does so which urges Danny forward. His hands hover worriedly over the man as he pushes as much help/comfort/safety/concern into his aura as possible. 

   He reaches to take the threaded needle from Red Hood’s hand only to be nudged away.

   “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

   "Hood, let me help."

   "Jason,” he licks his lips, “My name is Jason."

   "Jason," Danny gently cups Jason’s face in his hands, "Please let me help, Jason."

   Blue eyes gaze into his own. The ever-so-faint hints of green within them are captivating, swirling in a hypnotic dance that leaves Danny in a daze. Finally, Jason looks away and nods, breaking the trance between them and passing the needle over.

   Danny allows himself to revert to the mindset of his vigilante days. He stitches the wound with a single-minded focus, practiced hands falling back into a familiar rhythm. Jason watches the entire time, staring intently at his face as he works. Danny struggles to keep his core quiet and pretends not to notice, taping a bandage over the cut. His fingers graze over Jason's body, checking it over for any other injuries. Jason allows it to happen with a distinct feeling of affection/amusement. 

   “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

   “Nah. The kevlar usually prevents stuff like this. I was just unlucky.”

   “Good.” 

   Danny runs his fingers through the white tuft in Jason’s hair, pushing the strands out of his face. His core kickstarts like an engine with a vengeance, humming and searching for Jason’s core song in anticipation. Danny squeaks, stumbling backward. He smothers the sound and quiets his core, but with the look on Jason’s face, he hadn’t been quick enough.

   “Sorry!” Danny stutters out, flushing. 

    Jason’s expression shifts to confusion, “Why are you apologizing?”

   “I’m being way too forward,” Danny drags his hands down his face in embarrassment, “We haven’t had a spar yet and fuck! I haven’t even given you your courting gift yet, but here I am! Invading your space and trying to harmonize! I’m so sorry.”

    “Lucky for you I like forward,” Jason gently grasped his hands, lowering them away from his face. His palms felt warm against Danny’s skin, “Is that what you shoved into your chest earlier? A courting gift?” Jason punctuated the sentence with a gentle kiss to Danny's slow pulse.

   Danny nodded, stunned. Tearing his gaze away from Jason’s lips, he reached into his chest and pulled out the knife. Jason chuckles, his eyes crinkling in mirth, “You put a bow on it?”

   Danny grinned, his fangs on full display, “Well I had to make it presentable, didn’t I?” 

   He gets down on one knee, head bowed and knife held upwards in offering as if he were a knight presenting a sword to a king. Jason gingerly lifts it out of his hands, cradling it like a precious gem. Danny watches as his fingers trace the edge. 

   “It feels like you,” Jason looks to Danny for answers, eyes wide with wonder and a beautiful flush on his face.

   “I wanted to make sure it was effective against ghosts, but it's hard to find enough clean ectoplasm around here. I sorta just… used my own?” Danny rubs the back of his neck with a wince, “Do you like it?”

   He waits in anxious anticipation as Jason stands from the couch. Jason sets the blade gently down on the coffee table behind Danny before tugging him into his arms, “I love it, baby,” his words vibrate over a purr that Danny can feel in his bones, “Just don’t go hurting yourself for courting gifts anymore.”

   Danny groaned, tucking his face under Jason’s chin. “You have no idea how much that narrows my options down.” 

   Jason laughs. 

   Danny pulls away to look up at him, lightly batting at Jason’s peck “I’m serious, Jason! I can’t cook for shit! You’re gonna need to wait a long ass time until I can get my hands on more ecto. I hope you’re ready to wait because it’s going to take me months to build that gun now!”

   “You wanted to make me a gun?” 

   “Yeah? I was going to have one ready in the next few weeks but-”

   Jason’s smile is dazzling as he leans down to press his lips to Danny’s. Danny forgets to breathe as he melts into the kiss. He’s tugged forward until they are chest-to-chest on the couch, cores close together. Danny’s not sure whose core starts to hum first, but the sound is unmistakable as they waver between pitches. Danny bites at Jason’s lips, making a pleased sound when they part for him.

   It’s weird to be doing this before a spar. It’s backward, unconventional. Danny can’t find it in himself to care.

   It’s a wondrous thing when their cores synchronize. Something finally clicks, like a lock snapping into place, and suddenly Danny can feel so much. The humming harmony of their cores permeates every single one of Danny’s nerves. The rush of giddy happiness is unlike anything he’s felt before. He can feel Jason, too. The rampant emotions fling between them until it's hard to tell whose is whose. In Jason’s arms with a core bond in place, Danny has never felt so secure in his life. 

   This. This is what he's been missing. 

   Danny breaks away from their kiss to nip at Jason’s jawline, paying special attention to the scar. Jason makes a pleased sound, tugging lightly at his hair.

   “Your teeth are sharp as fuck.”

   “Aren’t yours?”

   Jason nuzzles under Danny’s shirt collar and into his shoulder. Danny shudders as he feels canines dig into his skin. They’re sharp, but not as sharp as his. 

   Danny giggles, pressing a kiss to Jason’s hair. “I want to see how skilled you actually are with those teeth. Once you’ve healed we can have a proper spar.”

   “I’ll show you a proper spar,” Jason grumbles. 

  Suddenly Danny is pinned, lying on the couch with Jason’s weight on top of him. Jason kisses his cheek, tucking his head back into the crook of his neck with a contented sigh. It's like the world's best weighted blanket, Danny thinks as his eyes droop shut in relaxation.

   They remain like that in silence, basking in the positive emotions and comfort of their new bond. It’s about ten minutes later that Danny finally breaks it.

   “Why me?”

   “Hmm?”

   “Just… why court me? I know I pass through your haunt now and then but we’ve only actually seen each other like… once. What could I have possibly done to catch your attention?”

   “You punched a mugger.”

   “Yeah… so?”

   “You knocked the fucker out in one blow before I could even lift a finger.”

   “And?”

   Jason lifted his head to give him a pointed look.

   Danny stared back.

   Oh…

   Oh!

   “Do you have a competency kink!?”

   Jason flushed, ducking his head back down with a groan. 

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

MC: ...

Raphael: *in shackles*

MC: ...

MC: What the fuck- Did I do this?

Bael, Amon, Stolas, and Naberius: ...

Bael, Amon, Stolas, and Naberius: *nod*

MC: ...

MC: *pressed their fingers to the bridge of their nose*

MC: Yeah... This is what I get for choosing the easy route. *decided to try summoning angels they could eat and accidentally summoned Raphael instead*

Bael: Nevertheless, this is a success since you captured Seraph Raphael with minimal effort.

MC: ...

MC: Bael, I'm NOT that powerful. And I don't know how long till I lose my power over him.

Naberius: Should we eliminate him now?

Stolas: We should!

MC: ...

Amon: It seems you have something in mind.

MC: You noticed?

Bael: What is it you're thinking?

MC: Listen, we have a seraph in front of us.

MC: There's only one thing to do in times like this.

Amon: ...

Amon: Devour him?

MC: *facepalm*

Naberius: Amon...

MC: Experiments, spells, and I'm interested in his weapon, so I'm stealing that.

Raphael: *tries to speak but no words are coming out of his mouth*

MC: Prepare a room for me and- *looks at Raphael* *then nods to themselves*

MC: Get me a wagon.

Bael: Pft-

MC: *has created new sets of seeds, but they have no purpose yet*

Raphael: *looking at the seeds*

MC: Scared I'll turn you into a demon?

MC: Trust me, I'm not going to do that.

MC: ...

MC: Or I might change you into something.

MC: Like a dove or a hamster.

Raphael: ...

MC: *imagined it for a second then grimaced* You won't be cute.

Raphael: *angry expression*

MC: Anyway, let's get started. *pulls out a small knife*

Raphael: ...

MC: *cuts their finger and lets the blood drip on the floor* *then walks up to him*

MC: Open your mouth.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *follows their instruction*

MC: *made him drink a few droplets of their blood* *then starts saying an incantation*

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *begins to feel feverish, but soon a sense of calm washes over him*

MC: ...

MC: That's weird. You're taking it well. Or maybe because you're a seraph, who knows.

Raphael: ...

MC: If you’re curious, I’ve placed a magical explosive inside your body.

MC: Defy my orders and you'll be dead.

Raphael: ...

Michael: ...

The angels: ...

Michael: Raphael has been captured, you say?

A cherub: Yes, sir. We'll be on our way to save him.

Michael: ...

Michael: You think someone like you could save a seraph?

A cherub: ...No, sir.

Michael: ...

Michael: Raphael will be able to handle it himself.

MC: *eating a fried angel's meat next to Raphael*

Raphael: ...

MC: You know, I've never tasted a seraph before.

MC: I wonder if you'll taste good.

Raphael: ...

MC: By the way, want some?

Raphael: ...

MC: This shit slaps if you just forget it was an angel before.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: *has a subtle smile on his face*

MC: *raises an eyebrow*

MC: If you're trying to intimidate me, that won't work.

*MC doesn't realize that it's not the reason why he's smiling.*

*In Gehenna*

Satan: MC CAUGHT RAPHAEL?!

Gehenna devils: *in shock*

Leviathan: *on the other line* Yes. It appears they’re trying to exert control over him.

Satan: *laughs* They're learning.

Leviathan: No. They need to be cautious.

Satan: Don't you trust them, Levi?

Leviathan: It's not that I don't, but I believe something ominous is about to happen.

Satan: And what could that be?

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

LU Headcanon #1

In Wild’s era, it is common etiquette to leave a bite of food on your plate to signal that you’re done and satisfied with your meal—if you finish your whole plate, you obviously are still hungry, and you need another serving. With a group of travelers around a cooking pot on the road (with many of them contributing to the pot as well), it makes sense that everyone should get as much as they want, because the cook will always make an effort to ensure there will be more to go around and lots of leftovers afterwards. The people of Wild’s era pride themselves on fiercely taking care of taking care of one another, even a stranger they’ll never meet again, and to do that they can ensure they have a full belly and a happy heart for the road ahead.

Some of the other heroes (Hyrule, Twilight maybe or Warrior or Wind) instead come from a culture where not finishing one’s plate is extremely, extremely rude and ungrateful. Food is a precious commodity, nevermind hot, just prepared food—to leave a single scrap of food on your plate for any other reason that it was poisoned would be a slap in the face to the cook that has spent so much time and effort to prepare the meal. To deny any offered food would amount to a similar crime.

Anyways. This is how I imagine their first few days going, before they realize they’re having a communication issue:

Wild, tapping away at his Slate: wow, these guys really are hungry! I better up the portions, I was hoping for leftovers but they’re eating enough to feed a group three times their size! I wonder if next time I should… Twilight: (slumped over) wow that new guy sure likes to cook, huh? Wind: Ough *burp* I’m so full.... Warrior: you don’t say? I feel like a pig fattened for the slaughter Hyrule: (face down on the ground in a food coma) ……. ……. …… Time: (hesitantly) you know, you boys can just say no when he offers you another serving… The others, in panicked unison: NO Warrior: (scoffing) Hylia, Time, who raised you?

Anyways. General hilarity ensues until they figure out the miscommunication that, no, an empty plate doesn't mean Wild should silently pile it with more food. Discuss.

[echoofadream]

I need a part2 of the "sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader" fic🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 BTW your writing is amazing!💖

sub!Geto Suguru x fem!dom!reader

Synopsis: Geto starts feeling conflicted about his feelings for you (a non sorcerer). You make him realize some things and you both come to terms with what you feel for each other

Contains: angst (kinda), substance use (alcohol), mentions of masturbation, smut, p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, mentions of murder

Suguru was going insane. He was constantly telling himself that he hated you, that he had to hate you. You were the source of his unhappiness, you were the source of the pain of his kind. But he couldn't bring himself to hate you. He thought about killing you then immediately rushed to the bathroom and splashed freezing water on his face. It usually worked but when it didn't he'd also slap himself. How could he even think about killing you when he craved you like he's never craved anything else before?

He was crying. Laying naked on his bed, fingers wrapped around his dick and jerking it as fast as he could, twisting his hand around his shaft in a desperate attempt to mimic your moves. He never did it right. He hated it. He hated that he had no self control left. He needed it. Every time he tried to restrain himself from doing it he'd find himself humping the sheets. There was no escape. He was ashamed. He was crying because of how low he'd got for a mere non sorcerer.

The man's feelings were a complete mess. Nights like those became more and more frequent. He couldn't bare call you. There was no good excuse. You were sending him as much money as he wanted so there was no reason for him to call you and ask to meet you. But one night he did.

He didn't want his family to see him in the state he was in so he booked a hotel room and called room service for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He almost finished half of it by 1 am which was too late to call anyone but he didn't know what time it was nor did he care. He wasn't nervous, nor ashamed, nor excited, nor nothing. He took out his phone and dialed your number. You picked up on the third call.

"Do you know what time it is?" your tired voice asked the inebriated man.

"No" he answered.

You sighed. "What do you want?"

"I don't know" you could barely hear any emotion in his tone.

"Then why did you fucking call?" you snap at him. Hasn't he ruined enough nights for you already? You were paying him, so what else could he possibly need?

You freeze when you hear his voice break. "I'm sorry" he mumbles, biting his lip as tears run down his face. "I don't know why I called you but...I need you..."

You were speechless. You knew he was fighting some inner demons the last time you saw him and the fact that after you fell asleep right after finishing having sex with him you woke up in your own bed at home and nothing bad happened to you was telling a lot. He was growing fond of me, you thought. I'm going mad about her, he thought.

"Please say something" he adds.

"Suguru..." you start but he cuts you off.

"I'm lonely. I'm so lonely. Please..."

You contemplate for a while. It was up to you to go to him or go back to sleep. He wouldn't hurt you if you didn't come and you knew it. But it'll hurt him if you don't.

You sigh. "Send me your location"

Suguru opened the door of the hotel room. His hair was loose and his robes were undone, leaving his chest and legs bare. His cheeks reddened when he saw you standing there but you weren't even looking at his body. You stepped in and closed the door behind yourself.

"How much have you drunk?" you ask once you see the empty bottle on his table.

"It doesn't matter. Tell me..." his voice cracks and his lower lip starts trembling. "Please tell me what's wrong with me...I wanna hate you. I want to...I want to wish to kill you. What have you done to me...?"

You've never been scared of him, yet you knew he was insanely strong. You always saw him as this ruthless killer who only cared about his fellow sorcerers and loathed your peers. Yet here he was, crying because he had feelings for a person he was supposed to hate.

"I'm truly sorry my mere existence in your life makes everything for you so complicated. I know you despise non sorcerers and... I'm sorry for what you've been through" you say, trying to calm him down.

"How could you possibly know what I've been through!?" he yells. He was frustrated and it was obvious. He was at war with himself and you wanted to help him. Why? Why was the desperation in his voice making something inside you ache?

"I don't know...but I can only imagine how bad it was if it made you this full of hatred"

He remains silent and keeps looking you in the eyes, trying not to show his emotions. He turns around and walks towards the bed, then sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing his temples. You didn't know what to do, but what you knew was that you hated seeing him in that state. You slowly approached him and not so surprisingly he let you.

"Suguru..." you started as you stood in front of him, looking down at his conflicted expression. He raises his head and looks at you, red teary eyes staring right at the shape of your soul.

He wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was broken. So broken that his mind didn't want to accept what his heart was telling him. And you hated it. You were mad at the world for hurting him. For destroying the heart of a man you barely even knew aside from his previous constant threats he made to you and the one time you slept with him. You saw how much he was able to love. You saw the kindness he was showing his family, the care he was raising his daughters with. He didn't deserve any of this pain.

You lifted your hand to touch his face and he didn't stop you. As you stroked his cheek he closed his eyes an leaned into your hand, a small hum escaping his lips. His gesture made you smile, that ache in your soul slightly fading.

"Spend the night here" he says without looking at you. You accepted.

There was something about the way the sun rays made Suguru's features look the more majestic. He looked so peaceful as he was sleeping next to you. Even when the light was tickling his eye lids, he couldn't be less disturbed. The blanket was covering his lower side, leaving his back exposed to you. Your eyes traced the scars he had received from previous fights and you couldn't help but sigh, knowing he was living a life he never wanted.

You glanced at your phone. Eleven am. It's been a very long time since Suguru last found himself still sleeping at such a time. But you knew he needed it.

You brushed one of his locks behind his ear, continuing to stroke his long hair. You weren't trying to wake him up. It just felt right. Though soon enough he starts to slowly open his eyes. He yawns and rubs them then his hand goes to his forehead, pressing on it as his eyes squeeze shut. He was hungover.

You helped him get up then sit on the edge of the bed. He was grunting every time a new wave of pain pierced through his head and you tried to soothe him by stroking his back carefully.

"Suguru...I think I have some pills on me. I'll give you one, okay?" you ask, worried about his condition. He doesn't answer, instead he just nods his head. You get up and start looking for the pillbox you had in your bag and once you found it you filled a glass with some cold tap water and gave it to him, along with the painkiller.

He doesn't waste any time before swallowing it. He wasn't cautious. No, he trusted you. Suguru chuckles then raises his head to look at you. "I could've swallowed it without the water, you know?"

You raise a brow, a smile creeping onto your face. "You're in the mood for jokes now?"

He laughs again and tries to stand up, but only manages to fall back on the mattress. He gives you a pouty look. "I figured it's better to keep myself entertained. At least this way I don't feel bad for violating my principles"

You sigh and take a seat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I've done everything you asked of me..." you tell him. Your words piqued his interest, causing him to frown.

He turned his face towards you, giving you an ugly look. "And now what? You want me to praise you for the thing you were born to do? You want me not to feel bad that I feel...whatever I feel for a lower being?"

"Lower being?" you repeat his words, hoping he'll realize he's in the wrong once he hears them out loud. He doesn't flinch. His expression only darkens more. "How am I inferior to you, enlighten me?"

"You dare!" he snaps, struggling to get up from the bed. "I saw my friends die for you, people! And for what? So that you could keep on living and create more curses? To what? To kill us?"

"And you think that by killing non sorcerers your friends will stop hunting curses and therefore stop dying? You think you're protecting them by abandoning them, letting them grieve your defection? You're not saving anyone. You're hurting your former friends and destroying your own life. All for nothing. You can't change the way the world is. It's messed up and it's twisted as fuck but you can't change it. You'll die trying"

Silence. None of you said anything for a while. He kept staring at you, yet it seemed more as though he was looking through you. He was lost in thought. There was nothing he could've said to argue with you because, as much as he wanted to deny it, you were right. Suguru wondered where you knew so much from for a while but soon gave up on trying to figure that out. He was tired. Tired of all of this. He called you here because he needed you. He still does.

So he gets closer and sits next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. It was a surprising gesture which both of you had been craving for too long. A gesture which you reciprocated.

He sighed an buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Please don't talk. I don't wanna talk. I need...time to think. But I don't want that right now"

You started caressing his back with one hand while the other was playing with his hair. It felt right. Sitting there so close to each other on a random noon. This wasn't like one of the one night stands he'd usually have in hopes of finally feeling something, in hopes of finally filling that void in his being. This was different. This is what he needed.

"Love me" he whispered.

"I do...I've always loved you"

"No" he replies. "What I meant was...make love to me"

"Ahh~ ahh f-fuckk"

He was moaning so loudly as he was thrusting into you. The sounds he was making sent shockwaves down your spine since his face was so close to your ear. He was almost laying on top of you, hardly able to hold his own weight because of the pleasure he was feeling.

"Am ahh~ i doin good ngh-ahh~" he asks, desperate for your praise. His cock was filling every inch of you, yet he was moving achingly slowly.

You caress his hair and speak gently to the man on top of you. "You're doing great, baby just mhm~ faster for me...think you can do that?"

He whines and tries to comply, but fails miserably. He was so damn sensitive. You were feeling too good around him, he couldn't even think anymore. He was happy, as simple as that. You loved him and he loved you and you were having sex right now and it felt so fucking good.

"Mhm~ love you...I love you I love you I love you...!" he kept saying it breathlessly, not to convince you of this, but because he finally felt free to accept his feelings.

You took his face into your hands and started kissing him sloppily, biting his lips and sucking on his tongue. This only made him weaker, his pace getting slower and his moans and whimpers louder.

"I'm gon-ahh gonna c-cum...!" he whimpers. "Please can I? Can ahh I pleaseee cum??"

"Yes baby yes. Cum for me"

"Nghh thank you thank you!!" he whines and soon enough you could feel his release filling you up and sliding down your ass, soaking the bed sheets.

Before he got the chance to catch his breath, you gave him an apologetic look and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him forward.

"Mhm~ n-no more! Ngh~ can't!" he whined.

You gently stroked his cheek with your thumb. "Shh pretty boy. You can, okay? You can make me cum, okay sweetheart?"

He nods as tears run down his face from the tantalizing feeling of overstimulation. He started moving his hips, every touch of your skin accompanying his moans as he tried to go faster for you.

His cock hardened inside you once more, his fat tip hitting your g spot so perfectly it made your toes curl. As you clenched around his length he started sobbing and normally you'd comfort the poor boy who was now yours but your head was thrown back on the soft pillow from the pleasure this man was finally giving you.

"Yes baby! Yes! F-fuckk you're doing g-great! Ngh-ahh good boy! Good fucking boy!"

The praise was only fueling his desire to make his lover feel good, to show his lover all the love and adoration he has for her. "Mhmm thank you ahh~ thank you so much you're making me so happy oh god!" The way you brought your knees up to your chest, allowing him to fuck deeper into you made you both lose the little lucidity you had left. The warmth and wetness of your walls along with his cum made it hard for his dick not to slip out of your cunt.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your lips on his abused ones once more. "Mhm~ can't gon-gonna cum again... for you oh fuck fuck fuckkk!!"

You weren't in a better state yourself. The long awaited high was approaching your body and you didn't even get the chance to tell him. The way his cock was abusing every right spot in such a delicious way while his pelvis was rubbing on your clit during the rapid movements of his body was enough to drive you over the edge.

When you arched your back as your walls clenched around him, your head getting thrown back and your mouth making an involuntary O shape, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and shot his cum once more deep inside your pussy.

For a while the only audible sounds in the hotel room was your and his panting. He was laying on his back next to you, but both of you were looking into each other's eyes. It felt right.

"I love you..." he confesses once more.

"I love you too"

[revehae]

day and night (1)

pairing ↠ jeno x (f) reader x haechan

genre .. warnings ↠ noncon, abduction, use of a gun, bondage, unprotected sex, slapping

summary ↠ haechan is one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met and a pleasure to tutor, but your perspective of him changes forever when you wake up in a foreign room tied to the bed; and only haechan and his team captain jeno are to blame.

wc ↠ 2.5k

a/n ↠ this is part one of a repost! i don’t have the original banner anymore if it matters pls don’t shoot me. here’s part two

don’t like it, don’t read.

maybe all of the signs had been staring you dead in the face - the shy glances haechan casted you, only to glance off as swiftly as possible the moment you caught him staring. the way he always blushed whenever you praised his efforts or called him smart. how he was always so curious about you, and maybe his cute face and innocent smile had lured you into telling him a little more than you should have.

after all, he was merely a stranger before you agreed to tutor him. just the cute boy in class that did his work and kept quiet, and was only found to be close with his fellow teammates on the baseball team. 

but you thought that it only meant he had an innocent crush on you. never did you imagine that all of it would culminate in this way. that you would wake up in an unfamiliar room with haechan towering above you. 

“you’re awake,” haechan whispered, more inwardly, as if he meant to keep the words inside of his head. 

you glanced around, nothing short of confused. the bedroom was quite clearly not yours. for one, the bed you were lying on is much bigger and comfortable. second of all, it’s so much more decorative, looking more like your ideal bedroom than the one you actually own. it’s filled with your favorite colors, posters of your favorite musical artists, and things alike. almost as if you designed the room yourself. but you knew you didn’t. 

when you tried to sit up, you were forced right back in place. you glanced up and realized that your wrists were bound. the feeling of the rope digging into your skin made you grimace. haechan’s eyes flashed with arm, and he rushed to your side. “is it too tight?” as soon as you nodded, haechan went to loosen the ropes. not enough so that you could free yourself from them, of course, but enough so that it wouldn’t be prying into your skin. “better?” he asked. you gave him another nod, and he sported his signature cute smile. you only wished that you could still trust it.

merely seconds later, haechan made another move. he seemed to be pensive and mull his decision over, taking one step forward, then another back, and then he made a few more forward until he was right at the edge of the bed. he reached for your shorts, and in an instant you realized what he was trying to do. you tried to kick, but he held your legs carefully, trying not to hurt you in spite of your attempts to kick him away. “please don’t do this, haechan,” you whimpered, shaking your head. your throat hurt when you tried to talk and your breath picked up a rapid pace to the point where you almost couldn’t breathe. 

haechan frowned, but he didn’t let up. “i have to - i’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

your brain immediately began to think of reasons why he would have to do something this terrible to you. why he would have to kidnap you and lock you inside of some bedroom, presumably in his house. you had never been. all of the studying sessions took place at yours, and he had all of the time in the world to learn every little thing there was to know about you that made you vulnerable to this kind of situation, simply by paying attention. then, it occurred to you exactly how you had been abducted - belt wrapped around your throat from the backseat of your car, until you eventually lost consciousness. that didn’t seem like haechan’s M.O, though. sure he was stronger than you, that much was obvious from the fact that he was holding your legs in place, but even then, he was gentle. the ambush in your car was anything but, betraying every effort of preserving your comfort that haechan had put forth. and then, it clicked. haechan l wasn’t the one that had kidnapped you.

then, who had?

“did someone put you up to this?” you questioned, trying hard to ignore the burn around your neck. the belt was no longer there, but the pain lingered. as soon as the question left your mouth, haechan seemed to freeze, and you knew by now that that meant you had hit the nail on the head. haechan was merely someone’s partner in crime, but you couldn’t imagine who. someone from the baseball team? i don’t even know anyone else from the baseball team. “who… who, hyuck? you can tell me.”

he only shook his head. “i can’t.” 

you bit your lip. “is it someone from the team? you don’t have to do this, hyuck. you can let me go.”

haechan was still hesitant, but his reluctance didn’t side with you this time. unless, he was telling the cold, hard truth when he replied, “no one forced me to do anything.”

you didn’t want to believe that. it made you sick to your stomach to think that haechan was fully willing to do something like this to you. 

“come on, donghyuck.”

“he’s right,” added another voice, deep enough for you to tell that it obviously didn’t belong to haechan. your vision panned to the doorway, where the last person you thought you’d see appeared - lee jeno, captain of the baseball team. “this was a group effort. teamwork, if you will.”

“jeno…” 

jeno lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers before stepping in the room, “that’s me,” he announced, smiling. it wasn’t sweet or even kind, though of course you were biased in that description; he was the one pulling all of the strings. it was… victorious. like the prideful smiles he sported after winning a championship game, when people would flock towards him with their congratulations and asking him how it felt to be so utterly undefeated. at least then, you thought he was respectable. he never acted as if he carried all of the weight, never forgetting to mention that it was teamwork that rewarded him with a victory. but now he was looking at you as if he had won possession over you, and you felt nauseous. 

jeno glanced at haechan with a displeased look, chiding, “haven’t even gotten the bitch naked yet? what good are you for?”

haechan hung his head and whispered, “sorry.” 

jeno sighed and shook his head, then began to walk towards you. and that was when you began to panic. when you were alone with haechan, you felt a tad bit safer, considering you had at least trusted him at one point and he was gentle with you, but jeno wasn’t like that. you didn’t know him personally, but he worked hard, played hard, and nothing about him was ever soft. he reached for something inside of the bedside drawer, and your eyes went round when you realized that it was a knife. he leaned towards you and shut your eyes, begging, “jeno, please don’t hurt me, please, i’ll do whatever you want.”

the man in question tilted his head. “whatever i want?”

tears rolling down your cheeks, you nodded. your eyes only opened again once you heard something rip and your skin suddenly felt cold. jeno had tore your shirt apart with his knife and the air was hitting your bare skin. your chest heaved as you made eye contact with him, so much fear in yours and so much power in his.

jeno dragged the knife down your abdomen and to your underwear. you held your breath when you felt the cold edge of the knife against your bare skin, and soon it was slitting your underwear open. he wasn’t as careful as haechan, and the only reason his pace was even relatively slow was because he knew it would unnerve you. he asked through thick breath, “will you give me something?”

you gulped, mouth going dry. you knew what he wanted. it was clear as day - what both of them wanted. 

carelessly, jeno threw the broken pieces of fabric somewhere across the floor and ran a finger over your cunt. instantly you squirmed, trying to pry your legs shut, and you managed to land a kick on jeno. “you fucking bitch,” he spat, visibly now upset. he stormed over to the uppermost end of the bed and tightened the ropes around your arms again in punishment, satisfied when you let out a loud noise of pain and discomfort. 

“hurts?” 

you nodded, lips trembling. 

jeno snickered and moved back to the other end of the bed. “good.” 

he shot haechan a look and he swooped over, holding your legs spread. never had you ever felt so helpless and betrayed. you just couldn’t believe that this was happening, couldn’t fathom why it was happening to you.

“i don’t want this,” you croaked, hoping that maybe something could get them to stop. something could deter them and get them to change their mind. 

“i don’t give a fuck what you want,” jeno retorted bluntly. and just like that, the hope vanished. jeno got an idea and said, “haechan, it’s your turn.” 

haechan meandered towards you slowly, almost looking shy. he saw the way your eyes begged and pleaded for mercy and knew that you saw something in him that you didn’t see in jeno, but you weren’t ready to accept how similar they were. that haechan was capable of terrible things, just as much as jeno was.

“i want…” haechan trailed off, looking down at his feet. 

eyebrow arched, jeno urged him on, “you want what?” 

haechan cleared his throat. “i want her to ride me.”

for a second, you were glad that jeno’s teasing wasn’t directed towards you at the moment. he laughed, amused by his teammate’s honesty. “you’re fucking kidding. you hear that, babe? haechan’s so pathetic that he can’t even fuck you. he needs you to do all the fucking work for him.”

then you saw it. the tent in haechan’s pants. as humiliating as the situation was, he was aroused.

jeno walked back to the top side of the bed, then grabbed your jaw and warned, “listen, you little cunt. i’m gonna untie these ropes and you’re going to be on your best behavior or else i’ll have to hurt you - really, really bad. is that what you want?”

rapidly, you shook your head. jeno went to untie the ropes and you felt a little relieved to have your wrists freed, though they still stung. 

“now be a good girl and ride haechan.”

haechan stripped himself of his clothes and simultaneously you of all of your dignity. it was your turn to hesitate: should you cave in to their desires, or resist and possibly make things worse for yourself? it seemed like no matter what you did they always had the upper hand, and your only option was to submit, whether you did it willingly or by force.

“just do what he says. please,” haechan told you, giving you the most pitiful eyes. whether he was telling you that for your sake or for his, you didn’t know anymore. you thought that there was a chance he wasn’t as sick as jeno was, but clearly you were being proven wrong. his hunger for you obviously outweighed any sense of conscience he had, his moral compass broken. and you felt disgusted.

you swallowed to wet your throat. “do you have a condom?” 

“haechan’ll pull out,” jeno said, unperturbed. much unlike you. the last thing you wanted was to have a baby and especially by either of them. “won’t you, haechan?”

haechan’s eyes flickered. “i don’t think…”

jeno repeated more sharply this time, “won’t you, haechan?”

slowly, haechan nods. you didn’t trust it - especially considering jeno had essentially just forced haechan into saying that he’d pull out - but it wasn’t like you had a choice. you couldn’t imagine the things he’d do to you if you resisted. so with all of the strength you could muster, you walked on your knees towards haechan and straddled his crotch, slowly pushing the head of his cock into you. haechan tipped his head back almost immediately, a high-pitched noise escaping his lips. a noise left yours, but it wasn’t one of pleasure. it burned and tears pricked your eyes.

at least you had control over the pace. that was the only thing that you had power over in this entire situation. you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

“good. you’re complying,” jeno remarked, only observing from the sidelines - for now. “don’t know why you’re crying like a fucking bitch. we haven’t even gotten to the best part yet. you should be glad haechan’s such a wimp - i won’t be going so easy on you.”

“shut up,” you hissed. you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud, but it was too late - you already had. and now you were definitely going to suffer the consequences.

anger flashed on jeno’s face in an instant and he didn’t hesitate to reach for your jaw again, forcing you to look at him so rapidly that you thought your neck would snap. “what the fuck did you just say?”

you had never regretted anything quicker. gulping, you swiftly tried to save yourself, “i’m sorry-“ 

the words had hardly left your mouth before the palm of his hand landed against your cheek, and it stung like hell. if you weren’t crying already, you were sobbing now. 

jeno repeated, “i said, what the fuck did you just say to me?” 

you hesitated, but in your best effort to not get hit again, you whispered in the tinest voice, “i said… i said shut up.” 

jeno swung his palm towards your face again and you closed your eyes in preparation, but it never came. you opened your eyes again after a moment, met with the sight of laughing in your face. whether from anger or genuine amusement or a combination of the two, you couldn’t tell.  much to your surprise, he let go of your face, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. the words left his mouth and you gawked when he spoke to haechan, “cum in her.”

“no- no, you can’t!” you yelled to haechan, immediately trying to get away before he got the chance. but you felt something cold against your temple and immediately froze.

“move and i’ll have to coat these pretty walls with your brains. you wouldn’t want that, would you?” jeno asked, holding a firearm to your head. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. the fear plaguing you had broken you. it took every bit of strength you had to even shake your head. “wouldn’t have had to do this if you just behaved like i told you to. but since you wanna be a fucking brat, i guess i gotta treat you like one. see this as your punishment.”

when haechan came with a loud cry, filling you to the brim, it wasn’t long before they switched places. and when jeno forcefully bended you over, you knew that you were in for one hell of a ride. 

and it was going to be a long one. 

[3cremepie3]

Airhead pt. 1

Synopsis - Riddle Rosehearts x fem reader. Y/n is an idiot and needs help with studying from Riddle! She wants to pay back his kindness in the only way she know how.

Warnings - innocent riddle, lose of innocence, graphic mentions of head lol, premarital sex, cursing, spit, roughness, slutty y/n, bimbo y/n

A/n - I was supposed to start this series so long ago but I got caught up in request. I found this so fun to write and I will be continuing it!

“Hey riddle,” you exclaimed. You pulled him in for a big hug he deserved it for being so generous. He was helping you study for free! “There’s no need for that.” His words were harsh but his smile said otherwise. Whatever you let him go and plopped down on his bed.

“Wow, it’s so soft I can lay here forever.” You will not now up at once,” he demanded. “In order to get optimal study results students sit at desks. I have a perfectly organized one here.” You sighed getting up to sit at his desk. The chair was cool against your ass cheeks that hung out your dress.

It was uncomfortable and for some reason forced you to sit up. “Now let us begin I have tea time to attend to and I’ll leave you for independent study time then.” Okay,” you accepted. The session didn’t even start yet and you were bored. "Yawning already? Did you not get a good night's rest?"

"No, I stayed up all night waiting on a flash sale." Well, that was idiotic,' He claimed. "When your dorm has no AC you make do with what you can get, look isn't it cute."

"My god," Riddle gasped. "Isn't that lingerie women wear that for their husbands and as far as I know you aren't married." You erupted into a fit of giggles. God, he was over dramatic! “Riddle you're too innocent for your own good," you laughed. "I'm just wearing it to bed what's the harm in that?"

"You're right." He cleared his throat and stepped away to grab a hefty text book. "Hand me your phone there must be no distractions." You were hesitant but handed it over. Riddle grabbed a chair and scooted over towards you. Your body moved closer to his wanting to marinate in his scent. "Wow, you smell so nice Riddle like roses."

"Well thank you I make sure to use rosemary oil and- what are you doing get back to reading at once!" He pointed to the paragraph your eyes finished scanning. "I already finished," you pouted. "Fine then let's get started on this written response."

"The teacher wants you to write this in a formal format so no personal perspective." He continued to yap on and on about something that you couldn't bother to hear as you were distracted by the flamingos running across the yard. "Get him." You cheered leaning out the window to watch the mayhem between students and flamingos concur.

In an instant, you flashed him the short dress that you wore hiked up your back. “You mustn’t lean over like everything is showing,” Riddle yelled. He covered his eyes wanting to keep your privacy. “Ace he went that way,” you pointed. You felt the air on your ass and quickly realized what Riddle had been yelling about.

“Oops my ass was out,” you giggled. “It’s not funny Y/n!” Come on Riddle you act like you’ve never seen anyone’s panties before.” He stared at you blankly. “Wait you genuinely haven’t?” His face became rosy red at your question. “Well, not in real life of course.”

“Christ how is anyone this pure,” you wondered. “My mother kept me very sheltered from a lot of things.” So you’ve never watched porn?” He held his head low not meeting your bright eyes. “ How is that your first thought no I have not.” We’ll have you ever had a girlfriend or a side hoe or a hookup?”

“No I don’t have time for any of that,” he admitted. “I guess remaining top student comes with its downfalls.” You frowned for Riddle. You couldn’t imagine not getting laid. Just then you thought of something. “Well, Riddle since you gave me your time helping me study I’ll give you mine in bed?” You watched him awaiting his answer. “But mother says only married couples do that.”

You slapped your forehead out of frustration. “Mother means married couples stick it in. No one said we have to do all of that.” I suppose there’s no harm since it’ll be a fair exchange and as long as it’s done before tea time.”

“Yup just the perfect pace,” you gleamed. Now why don’t we get on the bed,” you suggested. “Alright.” Oh wow Riddle I’m surprised you’re agreeing to this.” Well, you only live once they say.” He propped himself up on his elbows wanting to face you.

“This process is for relaxation you can lay fully down.” He laid back sinking into his many pillows. “Good boy now take off your clothes.” You heard his breath hitch at the thought but his hands were eager to make them come undone. He stopped at his underwear, however. “Need help or something.” Your hand graced over his bulge and then to the band of his boxers.

“I think that would be best,” he admitted. You couldn’t help but notice his hands shaking. “Aww Riddle don’t be nervous. You sat up to give him some kisses on his burning torso. “It’s just a little dick-sucking,” you reminded. “I know but I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well, then I’ll take things slower if you need it.” You began to kiss him softly he was a beginner after all. The first few were awkward teeth colliding but cute as you shared drool. The next ones were better since you took control catching his tongue in yours. You broke apart letting him catch his breath.

His hands tangled themselves in your hair pulling you back in. You balanced yourself on the bed before pulling your hips over his. Now you straddled his lap and could feel his heat against you. Riddle pulled up your dress which caused a gasp to come from your lips.

“Are you eager now?” Yes.” You looked up to see a riddles face flushed in a shade of scarlet. “Fine then I’m gonna go back down here. You crawled back to his legs making sure to land in an arch. Riddle thought he would lose his mind seeing the peak of your ass on full display. You pulled down his boxers to clearly see his mental state.

“Aww look at you dripping,” you coddled. "You can touch it i see you staring." Oh okay," he hesitated. You felt a hand collide with your ass cheek. He rubbed the flesh gently afterwards although it was an apology. You were gonna let out a protest but his focused face was too cute to pass up. You let a glob of spit coat his tip. You scanned his reaction as it slid down to his base.

His breath hitched at the warmness. Soon your mouth would follow the direction of the spit swallowing him down until you gagged. You exited with a pop making his toes curl. "So how's your first time getting head feel?" Good now continue," he demanded. His hand pushed you down onto his waiting dick.

You felt it twitch in your mouth as your tongue followed every curve every vein its entire being. "Oh my god," Riddle huffed. "Your cocks so cute look at it shake for me." You let it rest and spasm on your cheek. Your face had become wet with spit and his pre but you didn't mind. "Taste so good baby," you mumbled. Riddle could only bite his thumb down in response to holding his moans.

Your hand left his thigh to assist you in pumping him. Your grip was strong bringing his balls to tingle. Your lips noticed as you licked against the masses. And it intensified as you juggled them both in your mouth. He looked down on you astonished at your sinful actions.

Your dress was soaked but you were only just getting started. "Change of plans I want you to throat fuck me." Riddle looked at you like a lost puppy. "What does that mean." After quickly giving him a rundown he got into position. "So like this." He asked while pushing himself into your pulsing throat. Your hand linked themselves on his hips bringing him to push himself even deeper.

Riddle let out a grunt at the sensation of you squeezing around him. "Fuck it's like you're sucking me in." You chuckled you'd never think you'd get to hear Riddle RoseHearts curse. His hips buckled back and forth drilling themselves into you. But you still felt as though he was going to be soft on you.

"Riddle here's your chance to ruin me, to take all anger and stress out on me, to manhandle me. You're a man right then prove it to me." You spoke while scattering cock kisses. Riddle scoffed he was tired of everyone second-guessing him because he was small. "While since you give me permission I shall do my best job at it."

His smile twisted into a cruel smirk. You could tell in his head he had felt as though he was back in charge of the monarchy. While really you were still the dominant you just loved getting throat fucked. His hands raced to grab your neck forcing you to collide with the end of his shaft. You felt his hair tickle your nose while you gagged heavenly.

Riddle couldn't get enough of the vibrations against his core and forced you to stay until he watched your eyes roll back. You coughed greatly after being freed but stars were in your excited eyes as the same fate occurred. You watched Riddle lose himself in the contractions of your throat.

He moaned loudly as he pumped you like a fleshlight. They became whimper and he let out mewls that sounded as though he was crying. It was music to your ears especially when his voice that was sure to go raw yelled "Y/n" a dozen times. If he kept this up your throat would organize his shape forever.

And you wouldn't mind as long as you heard his whimper audio. "So good I think I'm gonna." He tried to give you a warning but it was too late. His cum poured down your throat leaving you to swallow the best you could in the short amount of time you had. The excess liquid spilled down your face and his now empty balls. He finally let go of his grip which allowed you to move away from the monster that was his cock.

You had 100% slayed that beast as he softened in front of your eyes. You pulled the bottom of your dress down ignoring the wet patch your essence had left on his bed. "Now we both held our fair end of the exchange." You spoke your voice raspy while removing your dress and stealing one of Riddle's shirts.

"Yes if you ever need help again be sure to let me know," he exclaimed. "Mhmm I'd love to push things even further. What your mother knows doesn't hurt her Riddle. It's not sin if its secret!”

[perkypeony]

𝔸 𝔽𝔸𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ'𝕊 ℂ𝕆𝕄ℙ𝕃𝕀ℂ𝔸𝕋𝔼𝔻 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕀𝕀

Dad Gojo x daughter reader

Part 1 Part 3

2012

Y/N was lying on the couch, her eyes glued to the cartoon playing on the TV. Satoru, sitting beside her, was engrossed in his phone. Needing a glass of water, he went to the kitchen, leaving his phone on the coffee table. Being a curious three-year-old, Y/N got down from the couch and picked up the phone. She then began playing with it, swiping and tapping the screen. In her innocent exploration, she accidentally opened the gallery and deleted a few pictures.

Returning to find his daughter with his phone, Satoru quickly checked it and realized some photos were missing. Among them was a cherished picture of him and his late girlfriend, the last picture they had taken together before she passed away. Panic and anger surged through him.

"Y/N, what did you do?!" he scolded, slapping her hands away.

Y/N recoiled, tears welling up in her eyes as Satoru stormed off to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Confused and hurt, Y/N toddled to the closed door, knocking vigorously. "Daddy? Daddy, open the door," she sobbed.

Inside, Satoru was torn between his grief and guilt. The memories of him and his late girlfriend crashed like a tidal wave. After a long while, Y/N stopped crying. He finally opened the door to find Y/N sitting on the floor, her eyes puffy from crying. She looked up at him, her small arms reaching out.

His heart aching, Satoru bent down and picked her up, holding her close. Despite his anger, he couldn't ignore the bond that still connected them.

April 2014

It was Y/N's third day of preschool. The school day had ended 40 minutes ago, but Satoru was nowhere to be seen. Her teacher, growing concerned, called Y/N's father.

“Mr. Gojo, it's 40 minutes past pick-up time," the teacher reminded him.

Satoru's voice came through, feigning surprise. "Oh, I thought it was an hour later. I'll be there soon."

In truth, he purposely didn't come to fetch her, hoping that somehow leaving Y/N there might make her disappear from his life. When he finally arrived, Y/N's face lit up, oblivious to his resentment. She ran to him, arms wide open, her innocent smile beaming. "Daddy! You came!" she exclaimed.

Satoru forced a smile, lifting her. "Of course, Y/N," he said, though his heart wasn't in it. The weight of his grief and guilt crushed him, making every affectionate gesture feel like a lie. He could barely look at her without seeing the ghost of his late girlfriend, the life they could have had together.

Y/N, in her naive world, saw her father as her hero. She held onto Satoru's neck tightly and kissed him on the cheek. “I had so much fun today. We painted and played games!”

Satoru nodded, pretending to listen, though his mind was elsewhere. To Y/N, everything was perfect, her father had come to pick her up, and all was fine in her little universe. But for Satoru, each step felt like walking through quicksand, dragging him deeper into despair.

July 2014

The day before Y/N was to go live with Utahime, Satoru helped pack her things. Y/N watched him, confusion and sadness in her eyes.

"Why, Daddy?" she asked, her voice small. "Why am I going to live with Aunt Hime?"

Satoru paused, struggling to keep his composure. "Because I said so," he said flatly, not meeting her gaze.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his leg. "I'm sorry for asking about Mommy yesterday," she cried. "I don't want to leave you."

Satoru pried her away, his voice cold and distant. "You're the reason Mommy died," he said, his words cutting deep.

Y/N cried harder, taking her stuffed bunny with her and plopping onto the bed. “What did I do?” her voice barely a whisper.

As she finally drifted to sleep, she dreamed of her parents. In her dream, they were holding her hands, walking together to a playground. Laughter echoed around them, and for a brief moment, she felt the warmth of their love, a fleeting moment of happiness that contrasted sharply with her waking reality.

Meanwhile, Satoru sat alone in the living room, the weight of his words heavy on his heart as he replayed the scene over and over. He buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had pushed away the only piece of his late girlfriend he had left, the innocent child who looked up to him with unconditional love.

Morning came too quickly. Y/N woke up, her eyes puffy from crying, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly. Satoru avoided her gaze as they left for Utahime's. When they arrived, Y/N hesitated at the door, turning back one last time. "Daddy, please don't forget me," she whispered, hope lingering in her voice.

Satoru didn't respond, his heart breaking as he walked away, leaving her standing there, feeling more alone than ever. As Utahime hugged Y/N, the little girl buried her face in her new caretaker's shoulder, muffling her sobs.

𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜, @kalopsia-flaneur. 𝐵𝑡𝑤 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠.

[websterss]

WHEN FLOWERS WILT (1) - A BAT IN A FLOWER STORE

SUMMARY: Even the healthiest flowers wilt one day. It’s nature's way of teaching us that nothing lasts forever. Azriel learns that the hard way.

WARNING(S): some fluff, no angst yet

WORD COUNT: 6,107

PAIRING: Azriel x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Azriel wasn’t sure what the Mother was trying to tell him this year round. It was confusing. One minute he’d think he was feeling the bond snap in place, then the next, he was left watching his family display their love for each other in front of him. He had half the mind this year to even consider the possibility of meeting his mate, but he was still so sure that it was Elain till the end. Guided blindly by the three brothers', and three sisters' fate. It's too coincidental to not be true. It was his very own motivation to keep going on with his life. Though it wasn’t his sole purpose in life, his reason to breathe. He was more enraptured by the idea of wanting love in his life than actually trying to see that love wasn’t something to be defined, it was something not to take lightly, nor for granted. He wanted it though, so why wouldn’t the Mother grant him his heart's sole wish?

He could have enjoyed spending the day in the markets, he never denied a stroll through the city, but the day appeared to be one that wasn’t going to be a happy occurrence. The one thing he refused to be for Elain’s birthday was angry and annoyed, but Rhysand had other plans for him, and it seemed his shadows were out of his control today. Zipping past shoppers and merchants. He’s had to pull them back five times now after they knocked a sack of fruit from a woman’s hands, almost ruining a stand, and dropped a child's ice cream.

“You know…It wouldn’t kill you to smile now and then. Just a slight upward curl to the corners of your mouth and you’ll be set.” Azriel snaps out of his troubled thoughts. A moment's worth of a distraction was enough for his walls to stay down long enough for Rhysand to sympathize with the Shadowsinger and his thoughts.

Azriel didn’t look at Rhysand as he replied with little care. “I have no reason to.” Azriel did smile, when he wanted to of course, when his family butted heads, when they made a joke he found amusing. When a pretty female would glance his way.

It was rarely suited to see one on his face in public but it wasn’t uncommon. You just had to simply be close enough to him and let him get comfortable around you to see it first hand. But today, he couldn’t keep his eye from twitching every few seconds. It was frustrating and he didn’t understand what was wrong with him. With his shadows. Azriel grits his teeth attempting to recall his shadows once more. “I have no reason to today, Rhysand.” He huffs as his shadows recoil back into him.

The peculiar entities seemed to grow in their frequency, moving around people more erratically than before. He barely makes out a few words from their whispers in his ear too. Something about she's coming, she's here. Was that a warning or just part of his imagination? With the shadows distracting him more than usual, he almost didn’t hear Rhysand.

"Rhysand, ouch!" He chuckled, placing a hand over his heart in feigned hurt. “Smile.” Azriel turned to him realizing he was starting to lose it for real this time.

“What on earth for?” He furrowed his brows at him.

“You're scaring my inhabitants." He gestures to the child who is still clinging to his mother. The adolescent sparing glances at him. A few passersby walk past the High Lord and Spymaster with haste. A few of the elderly stare with caution. "You okay there Az, your walls have been a little unguarded today. I haven’t had to use that amount of effort to try to get inside that head of yours.” Rhysand's boisterous laughter fills his ears. Azriel slaps away his hand that palms his scalp, messing up his hair. He staggers to the far side of the cobblestone streets as he pushes himself away. Rhysand only continued to laugh as Azriel threw him a glare and straightened himself out. The streets of Velaris were busy and crowded this afternoon much to his joy. His shadows didn’t find it bothersome as they continued to torment the people of Velaris.

Azriel cursed under his breath as he noticed his shadows continuing to go astray. This had been unusual behavior for them and he still couldn’t figure out the reason for the sudden change in them. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and scoped the busy market. Why? Why can’t I just relax for a minute on my day off? Why can’t these shadows just relax? What am I missing?

“Yeah, whatever…stay out of my head.” He grumbles as he lets his eyes wander around the market stands and shops. He was about to give Rhysand his full attention when he double takes. He straightens up when he narrows in on the littlest of his shadows dashing around a corner in a hurry. He tried pulling it back but it ignored his recall. The little whisp liked to ignore him any chance it was free.

Go get him. He thought to them. Watching as two bigger forms zoomed forward, carefully dodging and weaving through various bodies with ease and practiced skill after the small whisp of black. Once they catch up to it they’ll be able to merge him into them and bring him back, but no matter how much Azriel tries to keep the whisp at bay, he always gets out from the depths of his bigger shadows. He didn't miss the surprised yelps and curses of the citizens as the small whisp wreaked more havoc.

“Yeah, whatever.” Rhysand mocks him. “Quit sulking about your lonesome life and help me pick out a gift for Elain.” Rhysand stops at one stand and picks up a necklace, a flower pendant shining gold-like in the sunlight. A soft green tint was barely there but noticeable. He inspects it closer and then turns his attention to the grumpy bat, who is doing just about everything but providing his assistance to the High Lord. “You’re not even listening you useless male…Just this please.” He sighs and gives the merchant a few coins for the fee. The lady takes the piece of jewelry off his hands and wraps it into a pretty red velvet pouch. He bids her goodbye with a smile and walks back over to berate the male watching his six, surveilling the market as if danger lurks and waits in the shadows.

As High Lord, Rhysand was quite good at keeping a calm composure in public, but today wasn’t that day, so he didn’t care if the smack he landed on Azriel’s headside looked ridiculous to others.

“What the hell Rhys?” Azriel gapes at him as if he’d grown two heads. He groans as he grips at his ear. “I would never have agreed to join you had I known this is what would wait for me!”

“I’d say sorry but I wouldn’t mean it. Bought your gift. You’re welcome.” Rhys shoved the velvet pouch into his chest. Azriel barely caught it in time in question. Brows pinched together.

“My gift? But I already bought Elain a gift…What would I need another for? You said we were coming here to buy your gift for her.”

“About that…” Rhysand hissed.

“Rhys…” Azriel’s eyes darkened.

“I took your gift.” Azriel was met with a shit-eating grin.

“No, you didn’t…” His voice lowered.

“I did. Nice job on the custom rose pendant, quite the sentimental touch with the soft brush of pink on the E. She’ll love it.”

“You didn't...Give it back.” He growled.

“No.” Rhysand started walking away down the streets. More shops caught his eye.

“Rhys I’m serious!” Azriel walked after him, his hand reaching out and clutching his brother's shoulder. His grip tightened. Rhysand raised a brow eye at the hand creasing his jacket. Azriel huffed and let go. “Why the hell would you take it? I bought it for her.”

“And I’ll pay you back the fee.”

“No, I don’t want you to pay me back. I want you to give it back. Now!”

“You don’t like the necklace then? Fine, we can find something else if you’re not satisfied with it. Perhaps a new scent, or arrangement. How about a vase?”

“Rhysand—“

“Oh, why you little—look what you’ve done!” Rhys and Azriel stop and look at one another then hurry off toward the sound of the woman in distraught. When they rounded the corner they were met with flower pots scattered amongst the cobblestones. The dirt and flowers itself spread out and ruined. The pots were in pieces. When they approached, Azriel’s little whisp was floating in the air, above the mess. His eyes widened. Of the two shadows he sent after it, one was holding a broom trying to salvage the dirt and clean the mess up and the other was trying to absorb the little blob like a parent pulling and trying to scold its child. It wasn’t like anything Azriel had ever seen in all his years of life. He remained still not knowing what to do as he and Rhys balked at the scenery before them.

“Those flowers were the last of its bunch, I’ll have to wait until next year for them to bloom in season!” She sighed, disheartened at the thought of the flowers being flattened and their petals falling off. She bent down to retrieve a piece of the broken pot. Collecting the ceramics one by one.

Azriel wasn’t sure how to react. He was baffled by the wisp’s sudden behavior. This was never something his shadows did. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why are they misbehaving? Why can't they listen? Why was it till now they began to take on their own decisions, out of nowhere? He was confused by the whole scene that presented itself and he was even more shocked that he just stood there. No wonder the woman had lost her cool about it. It was just one disaster after another.

His shadows never behaved like this. He had no idea what to do with them. They were always calm and collected. But today they had been all over the shops, the tiny terror most of all. He watched his wisp floating above the mess trying to make itself appear smaller than it already was as the others attempted to fix the mess. He turned when Rhysand spoke to him.

“They're not listening to you…” Azriel was speechless and looked to his brother, who seemed equally perplexed by the situation as him.

“Madame I am sorry for the mess let me repay for the damages—“ Rhysand and Azriel then stepped forward. Azriel approached the steps into the shop and bent down to help clean as well. His scarred hands barely brushed against a piece of green ceramic before the other shadows that remained put, alerted him of someone's approach.

“Poppy?” Azriel’s head perked up at the sound of another voice speaking over Rhysands. “I heard something break. Are you okay? Better not be Sailors boy again. I warned that kid if he ever got his hands on another pot–" The voice was soft and airy, low but not deep, new and unfamiliar. He stiffened when two pairs of feet dawning red flats came into his vision.

Before his head snapped upwards, his shadows reacted faster. Rushing forward, they all wrapped the new voice up like a blanket, a harsh gust of wind broke out as they spun a whirlpool around the poor female. Poppy, Rhysand, and Azriel covered their faces, squinting at the shadows that began growing like a storm.

"Azriel what are you doing?" Rhysand backed up.

"This isn't me!" He pleaded.

"Oh my dear Y/n, help her!" Poppy exclaimed with fear.

"Enough!" Azriel's voice echoed out low and firm. The shadows halted their movement, growing eerily still as they dispersed from the female. Your frame came into their sights first, then your face, your arms were put out in front of you, shielding your face from the sudden wind that wrapped around you. "That's enough!" He repeated, recalling them back, you watched with curious eyes as they all flooded back to his side, dispersing into thin air. Azriel's shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension they were in. A few seconds passed before his eyes slowly trailed up your form, catching your softened eyes staring at him already. You were a wonder. "A-Are you alright?"

"Yes thank you…" You stood still as he spoke and watched as his shadows expanded out from him again. As if your presence somehow made them behave, they calmed, but still wanted a peek at you. You smile faintly at the Spymaster. "I'm just fine, promise. But I will admit they caught me off guard there for a second…" You breathe out, feeling the effects of what you just underwent. You opted to leave out the part where they exclaimed and expelled their excitement at you. It's you, you're here. It's you, we brought him to you. Your safe. Was it him they were referring to?

"They're never actually like this, my shadows..." He explained, rubbing his temple. His eyes never left your face, a small smile was daring to form on his lips, which he quickly hid. "They never misbehave. I can't explain what made them act in such a way toward you. I apologize." His brows pinch together. He brought his hand up to lay over his chest in sorrowed guilt. You had only come out to check on your friend, only to be put into a risk situation. He'd never let them hurt anybody innocent though.

"Do I unsettle them?" Your eyes shifted down to where they swiveled and smoothly circled and curled around their master's body. As if noticing and sensing your inner turmoil, they stopped their snake-like slithers. The little wisp zoomed forward, leaving the two bigger ones to continue with the cleaning and sweeping. Azriel flinched and reached a hand out as though that would stop its approach to you. Your eyes fell into a squint as the littlest one swiveled and swept in and out of your hair. Azriel thought to recall it back but stopped when your lips spilled bubbles of laughter. The sound was symphonic and melodious, he wanted nothing more than to entrap the sound into a music box. Your eyes crinkled with delight as the little wisp curled all over you in what Azriel assumed was a playful manner.

"Don't see that happen often." Rhysand chuckled lightly.

You laughed at the sight of the little wisp picking up the strings of your dress where they tied in the front. You wondered if Rhysand was right, maybe he doesn’t see this often or maybe he sees it all the time. You noticed when you looked at Azriel that he was already watching your interactions with the wisp. The edge of his lips curved ever so slightly upwards. You couldn’t help the soft smile your own lifted into when he directed a gentle look at you. “Unsettle isn't the term I'd use for what I'm witnessing right now." He dipped his chin. Letting out a breath.

You bubbled out a laugh once more before you shooed the poor thing back to its master. "Go on then. He's called you back, it'd do you good to listen to him..." You gently blew on the black air and watched as it reluctantly floated back to Azriel. He watched flabbergasted at its obedience to you. You laughed alongside him as he scoffed in disbelief, watching the little wisp do as it was told. Azriel looked more and more perplexed as the little shadow disappeared back into the bigger shadows.

To break and expel the shock, the two big shadows that cleaned up floated over. Extending the broom out to Poppy gently as if to say here we're done. Poppy bowed to them and took it gratefully. You couldn’t help the small grin that crept up to your lips as his shadows wrapped around her in their farewell, being polite. The shadows were behaving so oddly and it was intriguing. They got off her then coiled back against his body.

The shadows then disappeared, vanishing into thin air. Azriel sighed in relief as they did. He rubbed his temple and closed his eyes for a moment. And when he reopened them, your smile caught his attention and it was hard to pull his eyes away. You were breathtakingly sweet, good, pure, like the flowers that now lay scattered and crushed. “I don't know what just happened, the day has been rather strange...” He muttered softly, but it was loud enough for you to catch it all.

"If it's of any reassurance to you, I won't resort to a complaint towards the High Lord about this occurrence." You jokingly gesture to Rhysand. Who fights the urge to bite back a smirk? He was rather amused by this odd encounter. Amused by the way he noticed Azriel tuck his hands slowly behind his leather-worn pants. Just like he did as a youngling when he arrived in Windhaven all those years ago. He mirrored his younger self’s image. Timid under playful smirks, and beautiful females. But even Azriel knew how to play the game you took the lead in.

He rolled his eyes. “You could if you wanted to. No one would hold it against you.” The soft tone of his voice indicated he wasn’t angry. No snark, no annoyance dripping past his lips, just pure lightness. Azriel wasn't one to hide behind his words and it was rare for him to watch what he was saying. “But I know you wouldn’t file a complaint.”

“You seem so confident. How so?” You dared him, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn’t miss the not-so-subtle rake of his eyes over where your ties held your dress together, his eyes practically devouring you quietly. Your confidence faltered, your shoulders falling for a second before you cooled down your beating heart.

“Cause Rhysand here, our High Lord, is going to generously buy you out.”

“What?” You uncrossed your arms in surprise.

“I am?” Rhysand scoffed, though his eyes showed his amusement. His jaw slackened, as he pocketed his hands into his dress pants. He was going to kill the son of a bitch. He supposed this was Azriel’s payback for the stolen pendant. “Yes, I am.” He pitched in, stepping forward the shop's entrance where you remained.

“My mate's sister’s birthday is tonight and we are in dire need of flowers. She has quite the admiration for them you see, even gardens her own at home. It would mean the utmost world to us if we could make it special for her big night tonight.” His emphasis wasn’t lost on you or Poppy. You met each other’s gaze in amusement.

“We can most certainly assist you my Lord, but I’m afraid buying us out is not possible. We have many other orders we need to make sure are seen to. Perhaps we could accommodate your wishes and make a special arrangement for her in place instead? Does she favor a specific flower? Perhaps a certain color she gravitates towards often? Oh, is she familiar with flower symbolism, it’s quite an extraordinary part of flowers. See flowers hold certain meanings, for instance–“

“Roses.” Azriel’s voice cut off your excited rambling. “She favors roses….and she likes the color pink.” Your heart skipped. You’d have assumed such a male to be eligible but at last, your little crush was crumbled in an instant. A male as devoted to knowing a female's favorite color as well as her favored flower, was surely spoken for right? Mated and to have his boundaries respected, though the sudden hope for a chance with a gorgeous male was always one that was watered down. Many that came through the shop were taken and happily mated, in complications with a female, or simply attracted to the same fae. Your favorite by far had been a male buying two completely different sets of bouquets, the flowers in contrast to one another, two different favored interests, you and Poppy tethered the line of their being two different females in the man’s life. Or perhaps he had a mother, daughter, or mate, and he was trying to make them feel special. You hadn’t known, and you wouldn’t know.

Poppy liked to remind you it was never your job to settle in between the lives of those who walked through the door. Your only main concern was creating and giving. And you did, you loved working at Poppy’s shop. You loved seeing the way someone came in for an arrangement made for a loved one or someone special. It made your heart swell with the overwhelming feeling you received from a customer's smile. You loved the idea of someone showcasing their feelings, and their love through that of flowers. The only real part that connected you to your customers, the only real getting involved you did, was knowing what each flower meant and what they could be for. Yet on rare occasions, the customers would let you in on their orders. In who they were for. Just like Rhysand had now. A birthday party for the High Lady’s sister. You did your best to contain your excitement. Knowing the extra care and love you’d put into the arrangement.

"Roses...love." You smiled through a breath, lost and enamored in the idea of having someone who'd love you as much as Azriel did Elain. You weren't a stranger to Rhysands mate and her sisters. The infamous cauldron made High Fae's. Word spread fast around Velaris. Their existence was not lost on you. "Or perhaps..." You paused, really taking your time to observe Azriel. "A sense of courage? Feelings waiting to be unleashed..." You muttered softly. The shift in the atmosphere changing. Azriel tensed feeling exposed and naked under your keen attentiveness and your ability to read someone like a book.

“No. Just a friend.” He shook his head. He was still aware of your eyes upon him. Everything about him tightened to deny you the chance to read him like an open book. You were so good at that something he would come to know about you. He felt as if his whole life was laid in front of you, waiting for your eyes to catch every little secret that his shadows usually hid and protected.

"How about we get to choosing those flowers, Miss Y/n?" Rhysand clasped his hands together for enthusiasm. The hot tension between two strangers was unbecoming and he needed to move things along. He had promised Feyre to gather and bring something beautiful. She hadn't quite specified what that entailed as a present for her sister, but surely flowers could fall into that category, right?

You had put an end to your and Azriel's intense staring. You inhaled quietly as though at a loss for air. Then snapped out of it. You double-take towards your High Lord and nodded hastily remembering what the real purpose of their arrival had led to. He wanted an arrangement for his sister-in-law.

"Oh. Of course. Right this way!" You nodded, your cheeks burning slightly from the exchange with Azriel. You wanted to ask if he was taken, but you already knew the answer; of course he was. Surely he was? His eyes, the way he spoke, his devotion to knowing the things no typical male would care to remember. You'd be hard-pressed to find a male as kind as him with such a gift, with such attentiveness.

Your eyes shifted off of him one last time then you headed towards the door back into the shop. “I can't say I recall any roses in pink left in stock, but I can double-check to make sure,” You smiled timidly, as you ushered them to follow. Poppy was the last one in the shop. "Poppy can show you our book to help you decide on what you would like to add to the arrangement. I'll be just a moment." Rhysand dips his chin as you turn and walk past the opened peach curtains.

Rhysand steps up to the counter and gestures for Poppy to go ahead. "Shall we?" He smiles graciously.

Poppy nods and opens the book, laying it in front of Rhysand. "The flowers are organized by type and color alphabetically and the information about a flower's symbolism and message are listed just below each one. Feel free to ask me any questions you may have as you look through it. Or if you already have a few in mind I can direct you to their pages."

"What kind of flower would send the message of merely showing my brotherly love?"

"That would be our gypsophilia, my Lord. In simpler terms a baby's breath. A delicate white flower. It would be perfect as a filler in the arrangement."

"Yes, I've heard of them. My darling Feyre has spoken of them once with Elain. I can quite put my finger on its symbolism but I believe they'll be a wonderful addition." He agreed.

"Everlasting Love..." Poppy and Rhysand turned to catch Azriel peering down into an oddly shaped plant with spikes. He had reached his hand forward to touch it when you came out from the back again. He immediately let his guard down.

"Brushing up on your Floriography I see, brother." Rhysand gave him his best shit-eating grin ever possible. "Those lessons with Elain have paid off."

"Shut up..." He grumbled.

"So I did manage to find the pink roses. Though I wasn't quite sure whether you wanted more or less, so I decided towards a middle ground of 3 dozen. I hope that's alright." You hailed in a green bucket filled with three dozen pink roses. You cut their stems in the back room to make it easier for you and Poppy to assemble the arrangement. You huffed quietly as you set it down and stood straight to look at Rhysand. "If you want to add more just let me know!" Your smile was more gentle this time. Rhyand bit back his amusement as you turned to glance at his brother again, then double-take. A frown now adorning your face.

"Oh! I wouldn't touch her she bites— Your hand!" You warned hastily with worry over your features. You flinched.

"What?��Shit!" Azriel groaned as he peered down at the plant who had a grip on his forefinger. Shocked that this thing had life to it, he didn't register your hurried footsteps.

"Goddammit, Petunia!" You cursed as you tried to pry open her mouth.

"It's named?" He scoffed though you registered the laugh in his tone. He was flabbergasted by this whole situation.

"I almost— Got it!" You huffed as her mouth widened. Azriel retracted his hand and held it close to his chest. He watched as you took a vile from the apron with pockets around your waist and dropped a fly onto the flat surface of her mouth. You stumbled backwards falling into Azriels chest as her mouth shut with a loud snap.

"Don't see that every day." Azriel raised a brow of interest at the plant.

"Afraid not. For me, daily." You turned to look up at his hand. You pulled it down for closer inspection. You sighed in disappointment. Hoping she wouldn't have caused harm to the members of Rhysands court. But at last, she had. "I'm sorry. I should have made sure you were aware of her. Though in all honestly I try to forget her existence..." Azriel watches as you spin the apron to reach the back pockets. You dig into the one on your right side and pull out a bandaid. His heart warmed at the gesture, at the thoughtfulness. "May I?" You glance up at him timidly, perhaps embarrassed. How could he tell you no? He gave you the okay to continue and it was only then that he took notice of all the different-sized bandages that covered different parts of your skin on your hands.

He understood it now. Your want to forget her. She was a vicious creature who you were afraid to go near. He hadn't meant to reach forward, hadn't meant for his thumb to caress over the bandages. Some were newly placed, and some needed to be replaced.

"Finn our delivery youngling gets too scared to go near it, and Poppy won't even attempt to feed her. She pretends to have lost her hearing when I ask her to." You make a face at her.

"I do no such thing!" You roll your eyes at her.

"Anyway, no one wants to tend to her, so I take on the injuries." You laugh at how ridiculous your hands look. "She's got her moments though like keeping the pest away."

"Male or insect wise?" Azriel mused.

"Oh, both!" You smirk. Your eyes crinkled at his joke.

"So you're the only one crazy enough to take care of her huh?" He hummed in agreement. You looked like a mess. An adorable mess of bandages, but a mess all the same. He couldn't help the urge to reach out to you again but he kept his hands to his sides.

He smiled softly at you. This must have been a difficult task for the two of you. Dealing with this pet. If you could call the plant such a thing?

Your hands caught his curiosity. He hadn't noticed the wounds on your hands, nor had you said anything about his known. He would have to ask you about it sometime. As if aware of his attention, you pulled away and he let you. His eyes watched as you applied the bandage over his forefinger. "Who knew a precious thing could be so vicious?" He said calmly with his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes fixed on you.

"You don't know the half of it, Shadowsinger." You giggled softly. The sound had caused a stirring in his chest. A feeling so foreign he wasn't sure what it was. The way your voice was suddenly muffled and distant. He felt a panic settle within him as you gave him one more smile and turned back around to begin the arrangement.

"I thank you Y/n, I couldn't be without my ten-fingered Shadowsinger. Unfortunately, he needs them all."

"I wouldn't know what'd I do without any of mine, and there have been close calls, my Lord." You raised your battered and cut-up hands.

"I bet." His hearty laugh reached your ears.

It wasn't just your voice alone that felt muffled, that felt far. Azriel turned as he attempted to catch his breath. It felt like he was drowning.

What was this?

He watched as his shadows danced and bounced around him, almost cheerful and celebratory-like. His shadows were practically jumping for joy. As if they were thrilled with what was going to happen between you and him. He gasped as he heard your voice settle into its right tone and pitch again in his ears.

"Oh hello again?" Your giggles had him staggering backward when he turned his whole body to face you. "I hope you'll listen to your master this time. You just about gave him gray hairs a few moments ago and I personally like him as a dark brunette. Gray doesn't quite suit him." You turned your attention to him. Your smile widened from the corners as he caught your eye.

"You..." A calmness slowly overcame him, where confusion overtook you. A gentleness and a sense of peace. The shadows' jumping grew softer and softer until it became a gentle flutter. Something had changed. Whatever had been bothering and unsettling him, had now disappeared and had been replaced with a new feeling. A feeling he never experienced before.

The snap of the bond.

The bond that tethered him to you. His mate. The gasp he released unsettled the other three in the room, he felt your worry grow as he clutched at his chest, and stumbled backward.

"Azriel, what's wrong?" Rhysand straightened up, trying to reach for him. He hadn't made the connection of why flower pots were ending up shattered onto the floor until he looked back at his wings extended. He couldn't keep them tucked in any longer.

"Oh my goodness!" You reached out for him as he fell. His wings knocked down anything and everything in their vicinity. "Azriel!" Your concern had only made him more embarrassed. He had to get out of here.

"Azriel!" Rhysand called out to him, but his thoughts had given him away.

It's her. It's her. It's her. My mate. I need to leave.

"I need to leave!"

Rhysand's eyes widened as he stared at his brother in utter disbelief. In awe. He never imagined that his mateless brother would finally find his mate, but he'd be there every step of the way. "Az…" He stepped towards him tentatively. "Azriel, it's okay!" Rhysand had merely touched his shoulder before his brother was warped by his shadows and was gone.

You gaped at the mess and his sudden hurry to leave. You slowly took your eyes off the broken ceramic pots and over to Rhysand. "Is— He alright?" A small frown rested on your features. He couldn't have just left for no reason.

You watched as Rhysand stared over to where Azriel had stood. His concern was etched on his features. He hummed and sighed heavily. "He will be..." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He inspected the mess and turned to you and Poppy. "I'll pay for this. All of it." He reassured. He directed it towards Poppy more who was looking at Azriel’s empty spot with wonder. "Pink roses will do just nicely along with the baby breaths. I give you free rein to add to the arrangement as you wish. I wish I could stay longer but I must head home to help with the celebration. I'll see to it you have a ride to the house of wind. I bid you ladies a good day." Rhysand dipped his head, then snapped his fingers as he winnowed away. The mess was cleared and fixed seconds later. You were left standing flabbergasted and shocked. Things had been going so well. You hoped it wasn't your doing to cause him such a reaction.

"Well, that's not something you see often..." Poppy voiced her thoughts at the whole mess that unfolded before you both.

"Afraid not. Perhaps he felt an emergency with his mate. I've heard that the bond is strong in such ways that allows you to feel what your other half does. So perhaps he felt her get hurt and rushed off. I mean did you see the panic in his eyes, the fear? I couldn't imagine feeling such a thing. I hope she's alright..." You sighed heavily as you began picking up the roses from the bucket.

"Who?" Poppy gave you an incredulous look.

"Why the High Lady's sister that is. Elain. His mate!" Your eyes widen to emphasize the obviousness of the situation.

"The Shadowsingers mate?" She asked for clarification, hoping that she was hearing you correctly.

"Yes, Poppy!"

"Oh, you poor child!" Poppy looked up at your confused expression.

"What? What did I do?"

"At least you received your mother's beauty." She reached forward and patted your cheek.

"Her beauty? What does that have anything to do—"

"Now, now. Back to work, go and get me my good scissors and purple ribbon. Oh, we'll need some begonias, and irises too!"

"Anything else?"

"A new brain for that head of yours..." She tapped against your temple with her knuckles, ushering you away. "Go away, I can't look at you!" Once you were in the backroom, she began muttering to herself. "Back then the females weren't so incognizant. They knew right away who it was. I mean did she not see him practically fall before her? Even Petunia saw it. Right, my sweet!" She called out to the plant. Petunia turned her head and opened and closed her mouth. "Even the plant noticed it. I know I swore to you my dear Daisy that I'd look after each strand of hair on her head, but I am this close to pulling each one off if she doesn't come to her senses soon." Poppy pointed to the ceiling in false threat, but a mere reminder she would if you didn't realize how oblivious you were to your situation.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Hear me out, Joel quite but rough fucking you while you’re hiding out in a new place (I keep thinking about him with a piss kink but I don’t think I can come up with a scenario where he’d have one, I think he might be an exception🥲)

i wrote a little bit about that first idea here. it’s short but just a couple thoughts abt it

and not to worry brother i got some ideas for joel piss >:3

warning: piss, degradation/humiliation, spit, face slapping, a little bit of intox (alcohol), squirting mention, daddy kink (i feel like that’s just synonymous with me posting joel at all tbh)

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt

there’s 2 main reasons he likes it

1.) messiness - he’s already a fan of sloppy sex, whether it be him spitting on you, blowing a few loads on/in you, or just your makeup running while you’re squirting your fucking brains out, he loves seeing how disheveled he can get you. covering you with piss is another way to do that

2.) degradation - having you so addicted to his cock that you’d do whatever he says no matter how humiliating. and you BET he’s gonna rub it in

“dirty fuckin’ whore. you’ll just let me do anything to you, won’t ya?” SMACK “bet i could piss all over this pretty face, and you’d like it. prolly beg me for more, even.”

he says that in jest, but when you’re receptive to it, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“oh shit, for real? goddamn. knew you were a freaky bitch.”

he is NOT properly hydrated sorry. his piss is yellow and strong welcome to flavortown. he likes making you drink it if you can. but if you can’t he’ll be nice and just give you a hot golden shower 💛 how sweet of him

orrrr he’ll just stick his cock down your throat and piss like that. you won’t have to taste it if it completely bypasses your tongue hehe

if you ARE able to handle the taste, he’ll give you a mouthful and hold your jaw open so he can spit into it. then he’ll say

“flush it down, slut.”

loves praising you after, but ofc it’s backhanded compliments. he knows you need positive reinforcement, but he can’t have you getting too full of yourself.

“good boy. such a good little pisspig for your daddy, aren’t’cha, boy? nasty little cunt, drinkin’ all his daddy’s piss like that. ‘m proud of ya.”

he wants to try going a full day where every time he has to piss, he does it in your mouth. daddy needs to keep his baby hydrated 🥰

OOOOO WHAT IF WHAT IF what if y’all are both shitfaced drunk and you’re fucking in the shower. he’s got you bent over, his cock buried to the hilt in your pussy, and he just. goes still.

you look back over your shoulder at him, “joel? what’re you-?”

“shhh,” he grabs you by the hair and smushes your face into the wet tile wall, “don’t fuckin’ move.”

he doesn’t say any more than that. you’re left wondering what the he’ll he means by that, until you feel heat swelling inside you, filling you up and putting pressure on your cunt from the inside out.

you gasp and shake when you realize what he’s doing, “a-ah! joel! joel, that’s-“

he just squeezes your hips tighter against him, “told you not to fuckin’ move.” he lets out a deep sigh as he empties his bladder inside you. “s’okay, babe. daddy’s almost done…”

by the time he finishes, you feel like you’re about to burst, you’re so full. then he slowly withdraws his hips, and all that heat comes rushing out of you. it’s such a sweet relief, it has you drooling down the shower wall. and it makes your cunt so slick and slippery when he fucks the rest out of you

ofc he’ll wash you off after. lots of hugs and kisses and REAL praise to thank you for indulging him 🥹

“good job, sweetheart. did so good for me. let’s get you cleaned up now, alright?”

[weebsinstash]

Imagine just fckn tasering Valentino because he tries to touch you.

Like look at when he died! He's an old fuck! He's not gonna expect the small taser on the key chain to keep the pervs away.

Taser Valentino.

The future is now, old man!

You know this actually got me thinking about a different idea. Could you imagine being so terrified from his increasingly intense behavior that you get yourself a taser to carry around, and eventually you're grabbed by him and you're going to taser Valentino and, with a taser, you have to go for kind of a weak point, there are prongs that have to make contact, so you go for his neck since everywhere else is like, his coat

...but his neck fur is way too thick and the taser just gets caught and maybe even causes a spark on his fur and CATCHES IT ABLAZE

You're being shoved away while he's like FREAKING OUT, SHOUTING SCREAMING HOLLERING, trying to put it out, little embers become a flame, shit shit shit shit he never knew he was so FLAMMABLE--

It gets put out maybe even by someone DUMPING WATER ON HIM and now he's soaking wet, clothes ruined, missing a LARGE, VISIBLY LARGE portion of fur on one side of his neck and the fur around it is singed and damaged. now he's BEYOND FURIOUS because from HIS perspective, he was just, swiping you up to give you a little kiss, maybe slip some tongue in there, maybe bite your neck and shoulders a little, and you respond to his generous flirting and complimenting of you by ASSAULTING HIM, ruining his beautiful snow white fur like DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS TO KEEP THIS CLEAN--

You'd be getting such an awful punishment. A prolonged punishment really, besides a potential paddling (because i feel like yandere valentino goes for sexually painful punishments instead of beatings since um, that's a little hardcore for me, although i do think he'd still slap you in the face). He might make you do extra hard work for WEEKS, or he might get drunk and furious and even do something to YOUR hair. Furious coked up Valentino just appearing out of nowhere when your guard is down, grabbing you by your hair and you suddenly hear the ZZZZZZZ of ELECTRIC CLIPPERS and he's shaving your fucking head and POORLY and then afterwards when he's sobered up and calmed down he'll laugh at how ugly you look (and then force you to wear some kind of wig because 1 you're kinda uggo now and 2 MAYBE JUST MAYBE he doesn't like looking at the reminder he hurt you and you're upset with him

Like I'm sorry I think he'd really have to put in some fucking work to earn any affection back if he touched my fucking hair let alone left me partially or fully BALD like. Reader finally quits and runs away and now Val has to chase you down and uses you running away as a reason for further punishment, or he love bombs you and apologizes instead, makes you lower your guard so he can hurt you all over again

Separate idea. Can you imagine you're doing your whole "no one understands how you work for him without fucking him or being a sex worker" thing, and you're like, riding home or to work or somewhere with him and his other employees, and you're fishing things out of your purse or your bag or your pockets or whatever, and Valentino sees you briefly set aside a self defense weapon like a switchblade or a taser and he has a really immediate negative reaction about it, like "why the fuck are you carrying that around? You better not be having that on you at my clubs or in my fucking studio!" And he can immediately tell by your expression that you do, and maybe he even DEMANDS you hand it over, and Angel sitting beside him gets This LOOK on his face as he realizes that, Val doesn't want you to have something on you to defend yourself from HIM

You just look scared and confused and can't understand why Valentino's so angry and he plays it off as you're going to ruin his image if you're causing fights and acting wild, that he'll fire you and throw you out on the streets, meanwhile Angel knows his boss is still feeling paranoid after that one stripper Candy pulled a knife on him during sex after he threatened to make her do a donkey show last week (and also did you guys know that term is literal 💀💀💀 I thought it was horseplay bdsm 😅 Valentino literally canonically threatened Angel with making him film zoo porn and now I'm just wondering if he films EVERY kink genre because some of that gets.... reeeeeeal messed up....)

[the-kr8tor]

Happy 1 year !!! It went by so fast I didn’t even realize until u mentioned it 😭

Hope u don’t mind me adding an apothecary req to ur pile QwQ

Could I get cardamom + heart shaped bottle of waking up a little past midnight from a nap with hobie ? Lots of snuggles and maybe some random ass cozy 2-4 am activity 🥺

Happy writing! Remember to drink water, eat snacks, and take breaks ❤️ !!!

Thank you for sticking around! Here's your potion, I hope you like it 💕

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), cw suggestive, FLUFF!

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The metal fan whirs in the background of your shared bedroom. It's warm and humid, almost seethingly hot as you lay side by side with Hobie in deep slumber. Sweat dribbles off your back, moist clinging to the back of your shirt and seeping through the thin bed sheets. You groan, eyes still closed, hand reaching towards him blindly, fingers patting along the sheets to find his warmth. Still half asleep, you huff, unknowingly scrunching your face.

Hobie, also asleep, and yet his spider senses wake him up from your need to be near him. He snorts, foot kicking the blanket off him and onto the foot of the bed. Groaning, he flips himself to face you, eyes closed, he scooches closer to you despite the heat.

Your fingers brush along his bare arm and you instinctively hold onto him like a life preserver. He feels the sweat on your palm, making him crack open one eye in the dark. He sees your uncomfortable expression, and his senses fully wake him up.

“Fuckin' hell.” Hobie whispers, exhaling tiredly, he feels like ice under a heat lamp. You make a sound akin to the start of a sob, he immediately pats your bicep. “Sorry, go back to sleep.”

“It's so hot.” You softly complain, eyes half lidded, frown deepening with every drop of sweat. “I'm dying, Hobie.”

He chuckles, “I know, love, you won't even cuddle me like always.” The crickets outside chirp, summer air blowing right outside the houseboat window.

“If I get anymore near you I'd melt.”

“You always melt when you're near me.”

“That's different,” your tone has a slight lilt of playfulness. “this one is a disgusting kind of melt. The kind where you only see in the gym.”

“The disgusting kind?” His eyes sparkles with amusement.

“Yeah,” you blink away the remaining sleep. “the stinky kind.”

His knuckles brush along your arm, making you flick his elbow. “Ow, what's that for?”

“Too hot.” You say, face shoved into your pillow. “Sorry, I'm sticky, I feel icky, augh.”

“D’you want me to do something ‘bout it, stinky?” He smiles tiredly, fighting off a yawn, hand still atop your arm that you don't brush off.

“Our AC is broken, Hobs, you said it yourself. Unless you use that gorgeous brain of yours to fix it.” You change position, lifting yourself slightly off the mattress, you now face the ceiling, arms away from you like you're about to flap your nonexistent wings. “I'm dying, I'm gonna kill the AC cleaning company for not coming yesterday. I think they're the reason why it's broken. Too much dust.”

“The entire company?” He teases, beaming at you, tapping the pads of his fingers on your warm skin. “That's a bit ambitious innit?”

“I can handle them, ‘fear a woman scorned’ or whatever the saying goes, I'm too hot to remember.” You chuckle at the end.

“I don't think that's how it goes, love.” He slides himself closer to you, skin sticking to your skin. You make a face but don't push him away. His face looms above you, smiling softly, moonlight bathing him in all his glory. “You're right about one thing though,” the pad of his thumbs wipe sweat off your brow, and you do him the favour of wiping the sweat clinging to the tip of his nose. “You are bloody hot.”

You smile at him, leaning closer to his touch while he does the same. “Do you know what's gonna make me hotter?”

“Lingerie—?” You slap his arm. “What? You asked and I answered.” He laughs, palms rubbing the sweat off your temple.

“No!” You shake his shoulders, “the AC finally working and us sleeping peacefully.”

“I agree with the first one, but the second? I can think of other things—” He stops at the sight of your pointed glare. “—I can check it for you. I might be able to fix it.”

You sigh dramatically, like a weight off your shoulders is gone. “Please? I bet a genius like yourself can fix it.”

He fakes a scoff, already lifting himself off the bed, “you don't need to gas me up, love, ‘m already on it.”

“Thank you, the most genius, handsome Spider-Man in the whole universe—” His lips are suddenly on yours, pecking quickly before you could even hold him in place.

“Stay there,” Hobie stands on the foot of the bed, you place your chin on your palms, fluttering your eyelashes like a schoolgirl with a crush. “We're not done yet with our conversation.” He says while walking backwards towards the door.

“Fix it please and we'll have a very long conversation.”

He tilts his head, brow raised, laughing at the double meaning. His own foot betrays him, making him trip on nothing when you wink at him. A wink that is sub-par due to your lack of sleep, but it has him weak nonetheless. With a click of the door, your head hits the pillow once again, trying to survive the heat.

It must've been a good fifteen minutes since Hobie left but it felt like the most excruciating hours for you. Your pajama shorts and shirt have basically melted into one with the bedsheets, and yet you keep dozing off despite it. The roar of the AC finally starting has your skin jumping from your body, and you hear a faint cheer from somewhere around the houseboat.

You smile softly as cool air finally billows out, a cold breeze hitting your moist skin. Sighing, you comfortably adjust yourself on the bed, cheek squished on the pillow, eyes drifting off— Until the bed dips and you open your eyes to a very smug yet happy Hobie. He waits for your thank yous with a lopsided smile, he's clearly proud of himself.

“Do you accept payments in cuddles?” You murmur, arm already reaching up towards him, fingers beckoning him over.

Hobie acts as if he's thinking long and hard about his decision. “Am I free to negotiate?”

You shake your head with a smile, giggling against the pillow that smells like him. “Nope.”

He plops himself next to you, arm sliding under you, lifting you off the bed effortlessly to be placed on top of him. You laugh, immediately, placing your head on his chest. His arms envelope you, fingers kneading the small of your back. Meanwhile you cup his jaw, giving sleepy kisses until you're both satisfied.

“This is the best form of payment,” you say against his skin, eyes closing, sighing in content. You expect a rhetoric or a sarcastic reply from him but all you get from him are soft snores. “Thank you, Hobie.” You join him in dreamland, comfortable and cozy in his arms.

[shygirl4991]

Chapter 1 Unexpected Meeting

All art belongs to @b-r-i-n-g-x no reposting art! Idea from @itsajjanea Note: im still on break but with how stressful life is i decided to work only on this fic so keep stress levels down! (gotta get the angst out somehow lol)

Next Chapter

Summary: SMG4 world gets shaken when he learns that SMG3 is dating someone, with this news SMG4 starts to learn what these new strange emotions he is feeling are. With a love rival now appearing in the showgrounds can Four win Three heart or will he lose the battle to a mysterious new person?  Tags: Angst, Romance, Action Adventure, jealously, love confessions, SMG4 discovers he is bi, fluff

SMG3 slaps on his cap excited for the day, he got news from Gary that a rare type of powder was on sale. Exactly what he needed to make a new type of bomb for his cafe, he gives Eggdog a kiss before snapping his fingers for the darkweb. The best part of him learning his meme powers is free travel to the dark web, he walks out humming excitedly to grab the powder when someone bumped into him. He fixes his hat and glares at the person that bumped into him, his eyes then go wide seeing a tall male blinking at him “Oh shit sorry, i didn't see you there!” He watches the person move their blonde hair from their face. 

They flash him a charming smile before offering their hand “Names Aster, and you are?” SMG3 checks out the person in front of him, he notices the orange plaid shirt with a pin of the nonbinary flag by the collar of the shirt. He rolls his eyes walking away “Watch where you're walking next time, i have something important to get!” Aster chuckles following “Oh yeah? So important, I can't have your name?” Three rolls his eyes “How about you earn it then we'll talk,” He turns, making sure to walk far away from Aster in order to get his prize. 

Aster hums as they watch SMG3 walk away, he looks around and sees the shopping center with the live auction. He smirks running over to the crowd, he has been saving money for the day the legendary star powder would be up to purchase.  He was confident no one could outbid him after all Three made sure not to spend his cafe and twitch money on things that weren't needed. He walks into the crowd excitedly watching each item go up for sale then taken by the highest bidder, he chuckles watching the losers cry at the fact they lost their prize. That’s when the last item went up “For our last item, Star powder! It's extremely rare that someone is able to crush a star into an explosive material! After all, Stars can be unpredictable and now it can be yours!! ” 

SMG3 smiles brightly holding his sign tightly ready to begin betting, once it starts he lifts his sign “I'M STARTING BIG BABY!” He bets five hundred to scare off the other bidders. He smirks when he sees the crowd slowly leaving only for his eyes to lock with purple ones “Aster?!” They chuckle, lifting their own sign “Cute numbers purple, but I can beat that.” SMG3 glared at the man as he picked up his sign raising the price. They go at this for a while before Three notices he has started to run out of gold, he breaks into a sweat as he watches Aster walking closer to him not breaking eye contact as they hold their sign “What's wrong purple, running a little low?” 

He watches as Aster lifts the sign, Three felt everything freeze as he realizes he lost. He looks at the bid and the countdown in shock, everything he worked for was for nothing as the timer hit zero making Aster the owner of the powder. They take the powder and smile at Three only to get a glare in return, they sigh showing him the bag “You know i find you cute, you seem to really want this powder for some reason so lets make a deal!” Three takes a step back, suspicious of the person in front of him. They chuckle as they take out a slip of paper “My phone number, all i ask is a date with the cute mystery guy i met here. That's all I ask, one date and I give you the powder, think on it will ya?” 

Three stares at the number surprised, he takes it and looks up seeing Aster give him a flirtatious wink. SMG3 felt himself blushing as he held the slip of paper tight watching the mysterious person walk away from him. He looked at the paper and to his surprise there really was a number written on it, this had to be some kind of dream. He snaps his fingers returning to the showgrounds confused about the events that happen, some person came out of nowhere hit on him and gave him their number. How long had it been that anyone showed interest in him, he thought back on all the people he dated. He frowns remembering how they all ended with them meeting SMG4 and leaving him to try and win over the other man's heart. 

He takes a deep breath holding back his anger from those people that lied to his face, telling him they loved him only to leave him the moment a better model walks along. He looked at SMG4 picture and felt his heart flutter “Stupid, this whole thing is stupid!” He deletes the photo from his phone and sighs, why was he putting himself through this? 

He looked at the slip of paper and slowly entered the number, he was sure that it was some pizza place. As he waits he walks over to the counter to start brewing coffee for the day, he jumps when he hears a familiar voice on the other line “Hello?” panicked, he hangs up in shock. They really did give him their number, the phone rings and in a panic threw it across the cafe breathing heavily. The phone keeps ringing until he hears a beep letting him know the song has ended, slowly he walks to his phone and picks it up to see a text “Hello, i got a call from this number who is this?” 

He stood there staring at his phone before putting it away, he had to think over this deal. He grabs his cup of coffee lost in thought about Aster, He didn't notice Four walk in with Mario. Four smiles as he taps the counter “My usual if you don't mind Three?” he frowns seeing the man not moving as he looks into his coffee, he exchanges looks with Mario “HEY SMG3!” he waves his arms still not getting the man's attention. Mario starts to scream next “S M G 3!”

Still seeing the man was lost in thought Four was getting worried he walks up to three and gently touches him. The touch broke him out of his thoughts, startled from the contact he tosses the coffee. Three frowns at his coffee now being on the floor “What the hell SMG4!?” surprised by the anger Four glares at him “I didn't do anything you were spaced out i just wanted my coffee!” Three groans handing Four a mop “Fine, clean the mess you made while I get you the drink!”

SMG4 was about to argue why he had to clean the mess when an alert from Three’s phone gets his attention, he turns to see an unknown number text SMG3. He then notices Three tense up at the sound before grabbing the phone and shoving it in his pocket, Four starts to clean up the mess watching Three. “Hey is everything okay?” SMG3 nods, finishing up the coffee and shoving it at Four “Everything is fine, i don't know why you would even care.” SMG4 grabs his coffee and walks over to Mario who swallowed a painted dynamite that Three gave him to shut him up, Four sighs then smiles softly at him causing those flutters to return “you just seemed out of it so i was worried…if you need help you can come to us after all we are friends now!”

The word friend should make him happy to hear, instead he felt pain “Yeah yeah whatever you done or you want to talk my ear off?” SMG4 shakes his head as he pays for his drink and leaves with Mario behind him demanding more spaghetti. SMG3 takes out his phone and calls the number “It's purple, i will take the deal.”

Moments later SMG3 was waiting outside the restaurant nervously, he had to remind himself that he only accepted at that moment because he really wanted to make bombs and not because of how SMG4 made him feel. Aster smiles brightly at Three “Hey you really did show up!” They take out a bag from their pocket and hand it to SMG3. Confused he takes the bag and looks inside, it was the powder. He looks up confused as his date gives him a smug look “I'm a person of my word, i find you cute and want to know you more nothing wrong with that right?” 

SMG3 blushes as he puts the bag under his hat “uh no nothing wrong with that…its SMG3 by the way.”  Aster purple eyes flashes as he gets the man's name.  Three started to feel strange before he noticed Aster offering their hand “Shall we? The food here is to die for!” They chatted during the dinner getting to know each other, it was strange for Three the more they talked the more he felt drawn to Aster. As the date ended Aster offered to walk him back to the cafe, they held hands as they kept talking “Yeah i am pretty good at building things, back when i was all about killing my neighbor i built all kinds of weapons to kill him.” Aster hums as they listen to Three taking notes on every word said. 

Why was he even telling this person all this, his mind was a mess at the moment, sure Aster was attractive but did Three truly want more with this person? They arrive at the cafe, he knew he had to say goodbye to Aster and end the night, that's when he felt his stomach flip. He didn't want to say goodbye, he turns to ask if Aster wanted to stay but freezes when he notices how close they were. The words wouldn't come out as he watches them take his hand and kiss it causing his heart to speed up and his face go red.  “I had a lovely time, you have my number hope we can do this again cutie~” 

SMG3 was at a loss of words as Aster walked away, slowly touching his face trying to relax. What was going on with him? it was almost as if he was falling for Aster, he shakes his head laughing at the thought as he walks into the cafe. He takes out his phone looking at Aster's number, slowly he shoots them a text before getting the cafe ready for the next day.  Aster chuckles seeing the text “I told you I had this in the bag,” they turn towards a black star “Soon Aster revenge will be ours!” the star laughs as Aster replies to the message “Soon your end will arrive SMG3.” Aster's eyes glow as he puts his phone away.