#the good news is that i was able to cheese it and make it save
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Captain Marvel's villains know the hero's true identity. It's a truth that the Marvel family knows, and Fawcett knew it, too, for that matter.
But when Marvel was grumbling at his villains, he accidentally blurted out:
"I'm pissed that my villains are using my civilian identity to send boxes of glitter to my house. Sivana sent a glitter bomb last time. My whole house was glitter! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get glitter off a carpet?!"
And that was the beginning of the end. The captain was immediately surrounded by heroes, demanding answers.
Batman: You mean your villains know your identity?
Marvel: Oh, yeah? They keep shouting it from the rooftops. Especially Black Adam.
The heroes don't know what to do with this news. First, they were offended that the villains knew the hero's identity, but they didn't. Second, they began to listen to the words of the villains when they fought Marvel again. And so they were able to hear a lot of interesting things. For example:
Sivana: So, Little Red Cheese, are you ready to lose?
Marvel: I'm not that much younger than Ms. Marvel.
Sivana: I think three minutes is enough to call you a baby. Especially since we know that all the intelligence has passed to her.
Marvel: Harsh, but fair.
Captain Nazi: skill issue!
Junior: And because of whom?! Suck my dick!
Marvel: Don't swear.
Junior: I'm older than you, don't whine.
Ms. Marvel: Prepare to be defeated, Black Adam!
Adam: A girl like you won't be able to defeat me!
Ms. Marvel: An old man like you won't last long! You're a wreck!
Adam: I wish I killed your parents. They were supposed to raise you to be a beautiful lady, not this.
Ms. Marvel: Well, they can't be brought back to life, but I can send you to them to say hi!
Thus, the life of Marvel and his family slowly unfolds before the League. Some facts about the Captain's life are frightening. The loss of parents, amnesia, a close brush with death, some wizard stealing children and many other things that make the League look at the cheerful Captain differently. But some of the conversation between Adam and Marvel makes them feel a little terrified.
Adam: Wearing your father's face. Aren't you disgusted by it?
Marvel: My father was a hero to me, to Ms. Marvel. He made me feel safe. I just want to do what he did. Do good and good will follow. I know you know those words Adam.
Adam: How noble. You're right, he was a hero. After all, he chose to save his wife and daughter first, but no one saved him. Tell me, child, who will save you?
Marvel: My family.
Adam: Family. I'll be there when you lose them. I'll watch your light fade under all the darkness of grief and despair.
Marvel: There are differences between us Adam. Unlike you, I know how to resist the darkness. I believe in the best for everyone.
Adam: I was like that too when I was your age. Remember, I'll be there when you fall.
After the fight, Diana hugs Marvel tightly and Superman joins in, followed by Barry, Hal, Oliver and Dinah. Batman stood aside and stared at the Captain. Billy, meanwhile, didn't understand why they were doing this. Everything went well. Yeah?
#billy batson#dcu#dc captain marvel#captain marvel#shazam#marvel junior#ms marvel#freddie freeman#mary bromfield#justice league#jl#How do you think the league feels about Marvel wearing the face of a dead man?#black adam#thaddeus sivana#fawcett city#fawcett comics
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GOD modern Laios would make such a good little trophy/house husband 🥺 he LOVES cooking dinner for you when you come home after a long day of being the breadwinner. you get to spoil and dote on him and he gets to spend all day doing nerd shit and taking care of the house (he LOVES cooking you dinner and seeing the look of relief on your face coming home to a clean house & warm meal after a long day)
on your anniversary you come home and he's cooked a fucking 5 star meal- like the kinda shit you only get at some fancy ass overpriced restaurant . After dinner you suprise him with a huge intricate Lego set you know he's been wanting but wouldn't ask for because it's soooo expensive & he nearly cries.
He spends like 2 hours going down on you out of pure joy alone before letting you tie him to the bed and ride him until he DOES cry- whimpering "thank you" and "I love you"'s over and over before you've even let him cum. tears falling down his flushed cheeks and eyes rolling back in his head as he writhes against the restraints, so desperate and grateful for whatever you give him. such a good boy, your perfect little house husband 😌

GOOOOOOD YES
okay. Since we got minimum wage retail Laios confirmed by Kui. House husband Laios is so fucking real.
Laios who’s a total part timer since meeting you, he works for pocket change and like. Bare minimum benefits just to keep things comfy for the two of you while he basically puts everything in savings. (Until like one day he just quits tbh when yall are really settled in)
But like in my mind he works under the table at Senshi’s restaurant for cash + to learn about cooking! They go on fishing/hunting/hiking trips together and go to the farmers market to get fresh produce and Senshi teaches Laios everything he knows.
He cleans up your apartment every day. Like, he’s not the best or a maid or anything. He’s just a dude. But he does recognize that he’s immensely privileged and does his best to show you hey. He does care. And he wants you to not have to bust your ass after coming from a full time shift. He does basic things like dishes and stuff and on the weekends you guys maybe spend an hour or two maximum cleaning on the weekends together
LAIOS. PACKS YOUR LUNCH. He love love LOVES doing this and he has little sandwich shapers to make them into little dinosaurs or dolphins or something. And he does bentos with cute little pins and molds and he lovingly spends time on this. I think he genuinely enjoys doing this stuff and testing out new recipes.
And cooking in general!! Like that is how Laios shows he loves you forreal. He genuinely pays attention to your tastes and tries to “gourmet” your favorite foods. (I’ve been rereading the manga and when Marcille’s upset he offers to try his best to make whatever she wants to eat out of monsters and it’s so cute…). Like you want grilled cheese? How about grilled Brie on fresh made bread? Bagels? Oh yeah he tried a new recipe at Senshi’s at 4 am, here’s fresh out of the oven pastries. It’s so cute.
I think. He loves like those random ass kitchen gadgets too. He 100% has an ice cream maker and he makes custom flavors for you.
And he just loves watching you eat. It’s such an expression of love. He works so damn hard to make you smile and make you happy. And his food never sucks because 1. Senshi teaches him everything 2. He ALWAYS tests recipes before going way too hard with them. Like he pays attention to your palette so if he made something gross or something just. Not to your tastes you’d let him know in the trial stage.
And GOD. Laios is just a fucking sex toy I swear. He’s genuinely like. A subby service top. He wants you to absolutely use him however you want but he likes to be the one that’s doing most of the work because he likes to spoil you with his body…(also he cums super easily in my hc so if he tops he’s able to like. Pull out and give you head or switch positions when he’s getting too close)
But when you spoil him and ride him…tell him how handsome he is and how much you love him. yeah he’s crying and whimpering about how much he loves you and how you’re just so fucking perfect. It makes your head spin because Laios genuinely makes you feel like you’re the only person on earth for him.
#this. this is beautiful anon thank you so much.#dungeon meshi#laios touden#laios x reader#dungeon meshi x reader
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Could I request ler Shadowheart x lee reader? I feel like Shadowheart would be such an evil teasing ler given how teasy some of her lines sound
Sandcastles
Now that Tav’s taught Shadowheart how to swim, they take nightly dips in a cool spring not too far from Baldur’s Gate. Freed from Shar’s grip, she’s able to explore a more lighthearted, playful side of affection, and her darling happens to be oh so ticklish…
Warnings- Spoilers for Act 3, Shadowheart's romance [Selunite].
WC: ~1800
Pairing- Shadowheart x Tav (romantic)
A/N: I hope this is to your liking, anon! I'm not confident with this since I don't usually have Shadowheart in my party (only once in 3-4 playthroughs) but I wanted to try anyway. Still, I hope you enjoy.
Read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63579712
It was a long, tiring day of adventuring. Tav’s bags were bursting with the group’s newly acquired loot. Scrolls and books for Gale, wine and daggers for Astarion, and an oddly specific cheese that Minsc insisted Boo wanted. They trudged over to Shadowheart’s tent and plopped down on her stool with a weary sigh.
“Tired, love?”
Tav felt two familiar hands rest on their shoulders from behind. They turned and smiled up at Shadowheart. They were still getting used to her new white hair, but she never looked so beautiful. The lighter hair color softened her features. Tav swore she was an angel in disguise.
“Exhausted,” they admitted. They craned their head up for a kiss. “I missed you. You’re like a tall glass of water at the end of a long day..”
She smirked. “Well, that’s certainly romantic. I haven’t heard that one before,” she chuckled and met them halfway to peck their lips. Tav hummed and moved to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away suddenly, putting a finger where her lips were. “Though I hope you’re not too tired to deliver on a promise you made this morning.”
“Never,” Tav kissed her finger, then her palm before she could move her hand away. Grinning, they pulled the cleric into their arms, sitting her down on their lap. “I’m looking forward to making sandcastles later. The date is still very much on.”
Shadowheart giggled, fidgeting in their arms until she was able to straddle them. She cupped their face in her hands and leaned in, her hair tickling their nose. “Good. I’m glad you take your promises seriously.”
It seemed as if she was going to kiss them again. And, with the way they gazed up at her, it seemed cruel to deny them.
But kiss them she did not. Tav had already closed their eyes, had already pursed their lips, only to be left wanting. They opened their eyes, confused, and Shadowheart’s smirk broadened.
“Tonight, then. Do not keep me waiting.”
Oh, she could be cruel. But honestly? Tav wouldn’t have it any other way.
When night fell, and the rest of their companions were engaged in their own plans, Tav found Shadowheart in the same clearing where they previously spent the night. It was quiet, save for the chirping crickets or the sound of the waves lapping at the shoreline. Shadowheart didn’t turn around immediately when they approached. It seemed as if she was lost in thought; her eyes scanned the water for something, and whatever it was, Tav didn’t see it. Tav cleared their throat.
“Everything okay, love? You aren’t having second thoughts, I hope?”
Shadowheart finally turned around. She shook her head. “No. Just getting lost in my head again. But, we can talk about it another day.”
It warmed Tav’s heart to know that she finally trusted them enough to talk to them. It made their love that much more cherished to them. Tav nodded understandingly. There was a beat before Shadowheart arched a brow, making a turning motion with her hand.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Turn around.”
Tav blinked and, chuckling, did what she asked. They folded their hands behind their back while they waited for her to disrobe. Shadowheart hummed, amused.
“You’re not even trying to peek?” She feigned bewilderment, letting her cloak fall from around her shoulders. “I’ll admit, I’m a little offended.”
Tav faced a decision: take Shadowheart’s bait, or behave themselves? Their mind pulled them in two opposite directions.
Look at her.
Don’t do it.
Do it!
Don’t--
Oh, to hells with it. Tav slowly turned to face her.
“You just asked me to﹘”
Discarded clothing hit them square in the gullet before they could finish. Tav tumbled back a few steps with a surprised yell. Unlike before, Shadowheart wore a purple bikini, the likes of which they found at Carm’s Garms. She looked good in any color, but purple was her color.
“You’re lucky all I had to throw was my clothing,” Shadowheart’s laughter carried on the wind as she hurried to the water. Now that this wasn’t her first time swimming, she felt more confident to enter the water on her own. Tav tossed her clothing somewhere on the sand, stripped to their own swimwear, and chased after her.
Tav was a seasoned swimmer, so it didn’t take long for them to catch up. They moved through the water like a fish, or a mer-folk, and gave her a good splash the second she turned around. Shadowheart sputtered and recoiled, hair now soaked.
“Hey!” She shouted and palmed her face, wiping the excess water away. Tav grinned.
“You’re lucky all I had to splash you with was water,” Tav playfully echoed her and splashed her again, laughing at her indignant squeal. The ex-Sharran’s expression darkened into something mischievous.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
Suddenly, she lunged at them. Tav screamed and brought their hands up to defend themselves. Water and hands were flying until her slender fingers prodded into their tummy. Tav screamed even louder before giving way to startled laughter.
“Nahahaha! S-Shihihit! Ah! Shadowheheheheart!” Tav squealed and alternated between batting at her hands and keeping themselves afloat. “Nohoho! I-I only splashed youhuhu-!”
“You did. Two times in fact.” Shadowheart kneaded her thumbs into their hips, and they laughed louder. She kept it up even as they tried to grab onto her hands. “I think I’m owed more than a little payback.”
“Nohohot tihihihickles!” In truth, Tav didn’t mind tickling, and Shadowheart knew it. It’s just that whenever she got her hands on them, she could be wicked, a situation that seemed likelier the more she scribbled away at their hips, sides, and tummy. Tav flopped around like a metaphorical fish out of water before an escape opportunity presented itself. The water and their squirming made it hard for her to maintain a firm grip, so when they were able to slip away, they swam towards the shoreline as fast as their legs would take them.
“Oh no you don’t!”
Tav heard her swim after them, and they weren’t ten steps onto the shoreline before she tackled them down. She easily pinned them on their back and hummed.
“Did you really think I’d let you escape?” Shadowheart rested her hands on their rib cage, subtly curling and uncurling her fingers against the bones. Tav squirmed, giggling nervously. They tried again and again to sit up, but she wasn’t having it. “You should’ve known better than to start a fight that you couldn’t finish.”
“I was just--hahaha! Just plahahahying!” Tav squeaked and curled inwards, giggling madly. Shadowheart grinned.
“I see. Well then, this is how I want to play..”
Shadowheart dragged her nails up to where their ribs met the start of their armpits. She’d follow the same path and return to their ribs instead of digging into the hollows, intentionally toying with them. Tav thrashed and arched their back, squeaking and giggling. The volume of their giggles would change depending on where she went; soft giggles as she moved to their armpits, loud giggles when she skimmed over their ribs.
“Ohohoho gahahaha! Nohoho!” Tav flinched and threw their head back when she slid her fingers up and down their ribs at an intentional slow pace. “Geheheht off mehehehe!”
“Oh? You’ve never complained about me being on top before,” The cleric smirked and gently clawed at the spaces between the ribs. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Tav thrashed and tried to roll onto their side. Their cheeks flushed under the glow of the moon.
“Thahaht waahahasn’t the sahahame!” They made an attempt to argue, only to wheeze when she squeezed further down their torso. This time, she traced patterns over their sides with her nails, occasionally poking at their belly. Tav’s legs kicked against the ground as their giggles picked up to laughter.
“Not all too different. Here you are, beneath me, making the most adorable sounds..” She cooed and moved her pointer finger in small circles along their belly. “I can recall many a night where you did the same.”
“Shahaha! Shadowhehehehart!” Tav bucked their hips and squealed as she pinched the side of their belly. They knew what was coming, and the ticklish anticipation weighed on their bones. “Plehehehease! I’m sss—ahhh!”
Shadowheart toyed with them for long enough. She suddenly worked her nails up and down the length of their tummy, kneading and scritching, and Tav screamed. They threw their head back again and cackled. Amidst their laughter, she quietly chuckled. “Hmhm, adorable.”
If Tav’s cheeks flushed any more, they were sure they’d catch on fire. Her hands dipped lower to their hips, another awfully ticklish spot, and she kneaded over the bones. Tav bucked their hips and laughed harder.
“NOHOHOHO! D-Dohohn’t—tahahahaha!” Tav tossed from one side to the other, but her hands stayed put. “I’m sohohohohorry!”
“Sorry enough that you’d splash me twice?” Shadowheart lightly scoffed. “Unlikely. I think you can give a better apology than that.” She gave what could be called encouraging squeezes just a hair above the hip bones, then jumped back to their sides and tummy. Tav dipped further into hysterics.
“I cahahahan’t,” Tav’s loud laughter dropped back to giggling as Shadowheart slowed her determined tickling back into softer, teasing strokes. Her fingers creeped up to their armpits and, even with them keeping their arms down, she was able to prod into the hollows.
“Maybe you just need more encouragement,” Keeping one hand scritching into their underarm, Shadowheart swiveled her head and brought her braid over her shoulder. Surely she didn’t mean to-
Then they felt it. The tip of her braid stroked over their tummy, sides, and hips in featherlight strokes. This time, Tav’s squealing laughter could most likely be heard by the denizens of Baldur’s Gate. They inadvertently snorted as they helplessly writhed and bucked underneath her. Somehow, her braid felt even more ticklish than a feather would have been.
“Keep laughing like that, and someone’s bound to hear you in the Elfsong..” Shadowheart smirked and dug her thumb into their other armpit, hair braid moving in circles around their navel. “You’ll have our friends wondering why making sandcastles is so entertaining.”
Tav’s eyes shut from the force of their laughter, trapping the mirthful tears. Eventually, Shadowheart eased off of them, tossing her hair back over her shoulder when they were just a puddle of giggles. They panted and looked up at her.
“You’re ehehevil,” Tav accused, still giggling and now blinking away the tears. She laid beside them and pecked both of their cheeks.
“Perhaps. Though I’d argue that you enjoyed yourself, as I did..” She gently tugged them closer to her and pulled them on top of her. Tav blinked again and put an arm on either side of her head, the question clear in their eyes, only to be answered with her arms looping around their neck. “But I still want my sandcastle…”
#bg3 tickle#bg3 tickling#ticklish!tav#lee!tav#ler!shadowheart#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 shadowheart#shadowheart#shart bg3#ticklish!reader#lee!reader#shadowheart x tav
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Hey can I request a platonic headcannon of the ancient heroes reactions and feelings towards a new hero in the neighborhood with the powers and identity of Spider-Man.
Bonus points if you add references towards my man spidey villains.

Ancient heroes with a reader with the powers and identity of Spider-Man.
Gender: not mentioned
Character(s): Ancient cookies
Warnings: none just fluff,
Proofread: ❌
Relationship: Platonic
You would look like a normal citizen and no one would bat an eye. But once there was crime you became a hero, Spider-Cookie, and the ancient heros took notice of you.

Pure Vanilla Cookie would admire you and your skills. He would want to know how you got those powers. If you tell him you got bit by a radioactive spider, then he would worry about your well-being, but if you say it didn't and still doesn't hurt, we would think it's so cool. If you get hurt badly in battle with a villain, he would offer healing, you say it doesn't hurt much and you will heal over time. But he insisted and you couldn't just say 'no,' he would not take no as an answer so Pure Vanilla Cookie became your personal healer. Healing you after every battle and letting you rest. Don't think you are going to go somewhere without the proper rest with him as your friend.

Hollyberry cookie would love to become your friend. She'd also love to go on adventures with you. Fight villains with you, especially ones that put up a fight. You and Hollyberry Cookie would be fighting villains and winning with ease. She would introduce you to her friends and allies, offering a cup of berry juice. She introduced you to a 'cookie' who was apparently a dragon. You wonder how she befriended a dragon of all things. But she does have the Light of Passion and a liking to be at least acquaintances with everybody so you reckon those are some reasons. But you two are an adventure duo and lets nobody get in your way of saving others!

Dark Cacao Cookie would respect you. He is the strict ruler of his kingdom and his kingdom and the cookies in it are important to him, he would commend you for willing to protect the cookies that you know and don't know. You and Dark Cacao cookie have both have something you care about and will fight for, so you would become friends because of it. You don't see each other much because you both have your own problems, him with the licorice sea, and the Great Chocolate Wall, and you with the villains in your city, ones with the power to make themselves look like anybody, ones who uses special effects and hypnosis, ones who use their extensive knowledge of chemistry and robotics to trick their enemies, and more. But you still see and converse with each other about what happens from time to time.

Golden Cheese Cookie would also respect you because she also values her cookies in her kingdom. Golden cheese cookie, despite her arrogance, she acts as a kind queen that will do anything for the good of her Kingdom and her people. Likewise, you will do anything for the good of the city (and the people) you live in, and she respects that. You two are friends that think for the good of cookies. Even when you lose something important to you in the past, and never being able to fully move on from the pain of those losses, you find a solution, and do good for those things that you lost.

White Lily Cookie would love to learn more about you and your powers. Whenever you are fighting a villain she would be mesmerized by the way you fight. She'd love to try to figure out who you are. But you would always be good at hiding your identity. She wouldn't tell anyone, for the sake of your identity getting everywhere, she would just want to talk to you, as friends, outside your super hero duties. But she would also learn about how you started, and grew as a hero. She made some mistakes in the past and she's learned to learn from them, and with her old and new friends, she becomes better as not just a hero, but a cookie.
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Thank you for the request! This kinda took a long time because of school and other things, but it's finally done!
#randomanimaticse#cookie run x reader#cookie run kingdom x reader#crk x reader#crk x you#crk ancients x reader#pure vanilla cookie x reader#hollyberry cookie x reader#dark cacao cookie x reader#golden cheese cookie x reader#white lily cookie x reader#platonic#platonic relationships#x reader#x you
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Yk now that we got a taste of shadow milks true intensity due to the new CRK trailer today I think it's safe to say that behavior is exactly why pure vanilla had to go through 12 whole trials, or at least a good damn reason. Knowledge governs the principles of being able to do something, and therefore governs the nature of the virtues, similarly truth governs over the nature of the lights the ancients inherited, bc without it you really can't achieve the true form of these lights; to be in tune enough to actually carry the soul jams.
A jam so powerful that it can fold the mind of a cookie literally baked for it in half and then some, a principal so encompassing that it's only natural for it to be the worst offender when something goes wrong, and the brightest light when things go right. I believe you can also use the word "polarity" and slap "extreme" in front of it and it would fit the description of this seemingly clover shaped gem.
Now I haven't checked the ep 9/10 story as of recent, I'm sure it's since changed, but at a very early point in the runtime of this game dark enchantress cared about that jam the most. The rest were like bonus powers, trophies next to the big one. The light of truth in particular was quoted to be the one that would help her mold the world in her image (which I'm sure is one of the reasons she's reviving the beasts, is if she can't get PVs she might as well try for shadow milks while the beasts help her create that perfect cookie business) and I hope they haven't forgotten about that.
Also would like to add voice acting is done with multiple takes, for the purpose of finding the correct tone, empathsis, what have you. It's one of the reasons games like CRK will go back and work on the story of earlier chapters, and in Odyssey clotted cream purposely empasized that against Holly and cacaos jams, pure vanillas didn't seem to share many common properties other than what made it a soul jam like it's kin, and likely still doesn't share properties with cheeses in any real regularity. Freedom can be arguably like truth and it's interesting to see how these lights tend to reflect their previous natures regardless of the purity process. Even going as far as to select cookies that share the same traits, or are prone to the same mistakes as the beasts, the only difference is that these cookies have the tools, the experience to push through while the beasts really didn't.
I don't actually have any predictions, usually I would. Ik that I would like to see some conflict with wind archer that does NOT prevail or save the day and it does seem likely he's either going to fall, no message sent
He's going to fall, but at least the message is on its way to the others
Or he does get out (which wouldn't make for a very fun plot point tbh)
The trailer for those who haven't gotten to it yet
#cookie run kingdom#crk#pure vanilla cookie#beasts crk#cr kingdom#shadow milk crk#mystic flour cookie#silent salt cookie#wind archer cookie#eternal sugar cookie#eternal sugar crk#silent salt crk#wind archer crk#mystic flour crk#pure vanilla crk#burning spice cookie#burning spice crk
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what it means to be loved
summary: jj’s perspective on falling in love with you
warnings: none
JJ is scared of love. He is scared of giving someone the power to know him so well that they have the power to cut him down, whittle him into nothing, to twist the knife right where it will cut the deepest. Utterly destroy him. And more than anything, he fears that after all of those terrible things, he will beg. He will beg you not to leave, pathetic and on his knees, forgiving you for every hurtful act in his desperation not to be alone.
He is hesitant to let anyone in, only accepting intimacy in the form of singular nights spent chasing orgasmic highs. It’s the only thing he thinks he’s good for, after all - meaningless hookups, a few hours at most of connection, and mumbled goodbyes in the hours between midnight and dawn. If JJ doesn’t allow anybody in, then nobody can leave. He prefers it this way.
For a very long time, JJ thought that he didn’t know what love felt like, that he simply was born without the capacity to be loved. So when he realizes he has fallen in love with you, it is the single most terrifying moment of his life.
It took months before he was able to admit to himself that he was in love. There is no other word that could describe the way he smiles at the thought of seeing you, how your laughter makes his heart skip a beat, how home was not Luke’s house, nor the Chateau, but rather in the warmth of your arms.
JJ is still not sure what it means to love or to be loved. But he is certain that what the two of you have can be nothing else. Love is the way you bring home something for JJ after every grocery store run: daisies, fruit gummies, crisp apples, the kind that he likes but never buys for himself. It is JJ knowing your drink order by heart and teaching you how to surf and learning how to braid your hair. It is carrying extra band-aids for him in your bag and holding him tight as he cries into your shoulder and making him the good macaroni and cheese, the kind with sharp cheddar and breadcrumbs baked on top, when he mentions he is craving it.
Love is the seashell he gave you threaded around your neck and folding his faded t-shirts. It’s the way JJ watches the reflection of bonfires in your eyes, the swift movement of your fingers across guitar strings; how he thinks that he would know the distinct melody of your laughter anywhere. It is JJ saving all of his best jokes for you, the way he takes note of the beautifully small moments of life because you have taught him how to appreciate them: a perfectly sweet peach, the wildflowers growing next to the road, the silvery scales of the fish he has caught glinting in the sun.
Love is the leap of faith that JJ has never taken for anybody but you, trusting that you will catch him even when countless others have not.
It is the way JJ shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts and looks to the ground. “I missed you.” “I want you.” “You looked real pretty today.” He will mumble tokens of affection to you, scuffing the floor with his boots, a flush of red blooming across his cheeks. Anything to avoid saying, “I love you.” But you know what he means. You know this is how he tells you that he loves you. His uncharacteristically shy demeanor, so different to his usual cockiness, proves to you the sincerity of his words.
Love is all new to him. It is a strange feeling, to care about someone so much that he feels raw, vulnerable; it is as if you are his one weakness and also his greatest strength, all at once. Never before has JJ felt that another’s happiness could be so essential to his own. Never before has he felt so certainly that he is in love. That he loves you.
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#outer banks jj#jj maybank x you#jj maybank#outer banks fanfiction#obx jj#jjasewrites
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good morning aerie!!! always craving mafia au
WIP Wednesday (1/15) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 263)
KEVIN
After getting Jean showered, which required the strategic placement of a trash bag and sticky tape, Kevin sets him on the sofa and insists on making him something to eat. Despite Jean and Neil's teasing, Kevin is actually pretty decent in the kitchen. Usually. (As long as the bastard microwave is not involved.)
He scrounges in the cupboards until he's able to locate a box of pasta. Then digs around in the refrigerator, finding a package of chicken, a half-used bag of spinach, and the carton of cream that Jean uses for coffee. Kevin nods to himself. That'll do. He slams the fridge shut and begins the hunt for pots and pans.
"Cher? Are you alright?" Jean calls from the sofa when Kevin's hand twinges and he drops a chopping board. It clatters to the ground, traitorous thing, and Kevin sneers at it. He shakes out his hand, daring it to act up again, and sticks his head out the kitchen door.
"I'm fine."
"I can cook for myself, it's not—"
"If you say it's not that serious I will go back to New York." Kevin threatens, staring him down. It's a bluff and they both know it but Jean's mouth snaps shut. Kevin points at him. "Just sit there and relax. I've got you."
"Alright." Jean says, but he doesn't look very happy about it. Kevin leaves him to the television and rubs his hand out once again before chopping up the chicken.
It takes him a bit longer than he'd like— because jeez touching this stuff is so gross— but he gets it done. And after that it's easy to cook the chicken, to wilt the spinach, to boil some pasta, to make a little fucked-up kind of Alfredo sauce that's more cheese than anything. He crams some salt and pepper and garlic into it and stirs it all together before bringing it out to Jean along with some toasted bread.
Jean's face when Kevin sits the plate in his lap is one he'll never forget, eyes wide, brows high on his forehead, mouth open in a little circle of surprise. He gives the food a look then turns his attention to Kevin, where it belongs.
"What... When did you...?"
Kevin huffs out a laugh. "I'm not completely helpless, Jean. I've lived alone for five years. I know how to feed myself."
Jean stares at him for a moment, then nods. "Of course you do."
"I just like it better when you do it," Kevin finishes. He'd learned how to sort of cook in California. Catalina and Laila and Jeremy— Well... Not Jeremy. By the time they graduated Jeremy was still a bit useless in the kitchen. He was good at handing things to Kevin though. And wearing swim trunks... And exy! Kevin thinks, drastically altering his train of thought before it can veer horribly off course.
"It smells wonderful." Jean says. And after he takes his first bite, he smiles. "It is wonderful."
"Thanks." Kevin grins. The two of them eat and finish the episode of whatever Jean was watching. Kevin doesn't really care what is it. He's not a sitcom sort of man, but it's enjoyable enough. "You know, I'm glad I saved some for Neil. He would never have believed I could cook without evidence. He'd think you were high on painkillers if you told him I cooked."
It's a stupid little joke, one Jean would normally have at least snorted at. But he barely reacts at all. He's pushing his food around on his plate now and looks miserable. It's almost enough to hurt Kevin's feelings, but he brushes them aside.
"Love, you don't have to humor me. If you don't like it, I can call out for something else."
"Non, no. I told you, it's good. I just... Was thinking about yesterday." Jean says, a haunted look passing over his face. Kevin sets his nearly empty plate on the coffee table to put an arm around his lover.
"Hey, you're okay. We've got you. If I know Neil, he's already sniffing out the bastard who shot you. He'll be dead before the week's over, mark my words. We don't have to worry about him." Kevin says, aiming to reassure. But Jean shakes his head.
"It's not that. I know you're right. I just... Right after it happened, I was so terrified. Not for me, for Neil. Then the idiot asked me if I was alright and I... kissed him. I kissed Neil," Jean gasps out. He's a picture of guilt. Grief. Kevin blinks at him.
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rhys strongfork x reader
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“God, you’re the best,” Rhys says with a sigh. “Hey, you say the word and I’m here bossman. Anything you want or need, I’m on it. It’s the least I can do.” Zer0 eyes you from across the office. Or at least, you think he is. You’re still adjusting to the faceless mysterious thing that hangs around Rhys all the time. He probably still suspects you. Were you being suspicious? You suppose you’d gone out of your way to be especially good for Rhys and earn his favor. After all, if you had betrayed Maliwan to defect over to Atlas, what was to stop you from betraying Atlas as well? You didn’t exactly start here with a shiny clean record. But Rhys had been so kind and merciful, taking you in, giving you a decent position like this. You just want to express your gratitude anyway you can. Chances are his decision to let you into Atlas had saved your life. Thus, you figure you owe him every breath in your body. And a bagel. Anytime he wanted it. You don't think you'll ever repay your debt to him, and you don't think you want to either.
You think you could be happy here, at Atlas. And that's not something you imagined thinking about any one of the soul sucking greedy corporations that had their eyes on the planets in this system.
As you turn to walk out the room, attending to some other business you'd been assigned, Rhys's eyes follow you. Zer0's head tilts ever so slightly towards Rhys. He heaves a bit of a sigh, regarding the bagel on his desk. And you remembered the cream cheese he likes. He wonders if he's about to make a mistake. I mean, how could someone as nice as you possibly stab him in the back? He looks back up at Zer0, and the assassin just gives a curt nod.
Just do it. Gotta find out one way or another.
Rhys nods as well, before sinking down low into his chair and burying his face in his hands. If this is the right, smart thing to do, why does he feel so goddamn guilty about it? He finds himself wishing he was more like the other CEOs. Ruthless, calculating, business first, success first, able to actually watch their ass. Willing to do whatever it takes to hold onto that seat of power. But then he finds himself wondering how those men live like that, on the edge, suspicious of everyone, so sure death was seeking them out at every turn. It had to be miserable, right?
Meanwhile, you were making your way down a hall. Rhys said he'd wanted you to go check on the new maintenance guys and see how they were adjusting, and then report back to him personally. You don't mind having to run around headquarters all day, it's good exercise and you feel productive. It doesn't feel like he's just giving you busy work either, he's just having you act socially in his stead. The guy can't be in seven places at once, although you bet he wishes he was. He's never been a micromanaging type, but he is a bit of a chatterbox.
Suddenly, a firm hand grabs your shoulder, shoving you up against a wall. Momentarily, you're winded, gasping out, as the razor sharp tip of a sword presses lightly to the center of your throat. Zer0 suddenly appears out of thing air. Confusion is obvious on your face, but it's not enough to fool him so easily. Anyone, traitor or not, would have been shocked getting caught off guard like that.
"Talk," Zer0 commands. If it's not elaborate haikus, it's equally cryptic one word sentences.
You shift a little under his grip and his fingers tighten, to the point where you know he'll leave bruises. You wonder what the fuck is going on. Best communicate that.
"I don't...what the hell are you doing?" you ask, sounding less outraged and more afraid. Good, Zer0 can use that. It should make this all easier.
"You are still very new./ Where do your loyalties lie?/ Tell me the real truth."
Your brows furrow. "My...my loyalties?" you repeat back, a bit dumbfounded.
Are you being interrogated right now? Was Zer0 that suspicious of you this entire time? You couldn't get a read on the guy no matter what, even back when you'd first joined Atlas (at Rhys's own suggestion). You know it's his job to protect the CEO, and you figured he'd do it whether he was contracted or not, but what threat could you possibly pose to Rhys? You feel a bit stupid for not immediately jumping to your history--even if it had been months ago and the majority of the conflict and siege had settled, that didn't change how long you had worked for Maliwan before coming to Promothea. It didn't matter if it had been against your will to be sent here to fight, to die, for Maliwan's cause. All that mattered was that you had been initially taking orders from Katagawa Jr.
You take in a shaky breath, heart still racing in your chest. The sword point remains steady. It pricks at your skin, already warning you for taking such a long, rather suspicious silence. The visor hiding his face is blank. No stupid little emoticons, no text, just black. You can see your own terrified reflection in it. You don't know what to do other than to tell the truth, just like Zer0 had demanded. But what if he still didn't believe you? Doesn't matter. You come to realize you don't have a choice. You force your voice to be steady.
“I’m loyal to Rhys,” you say, jaw set. “I owe that man my life.” Rhys, not Atlas, Zer0 notes. He’s not sure how to feel about that yet. Slowly, he leans a little ways back. He steps away, giving you some personal space back. And the sword withdraws from your throat. Silently, Zer0 sheathes the sword over his shoulder, and the blade fades away into nothing. You know it will only be a few moments before he does the same. He lifts a gloved hand, holding up a stern finger. “Please do not forget/ I am always watching you/ do not fuck this up.” You know you could have not replied at all. You could have just looked away and let this nightmare of an interaction be over. But heart pounding in your chest, you can't help but give a response. “I won’t. Second chances don’t come around often.”
Zer0 regards you for a moment longer. Then, he vanishes. Creepy...you'll never get used to that. You take a moment to stand there, unsure if he's gone or if he's going to continue tailing you for longer, just to double check. All he'd be affirming is that you were telling the truth if he did that. You think about going straight back to Rhys's office and telling him what had just happened. But you remember he'd given you an assignment to do. As shitty as all this was...the least you can do is get that done before returning. Rhys should know Zer0 is suspicious of you. But he'd also asked about the new maintenance staff's adjustment, and that's important too when it comes to rebuilding and cleaning up some of the HQ.
A sigh leaves you before you resume the direction you'd initially been headed in. Lucky for you, the new maintenance guys seem pretty capable. It's not that you didn't trust Rhys's judgement in hiring (after all, he'd brought you on as some extra help), it's just...things had been hectic and desperate, and his priority had been to replace the former staff which had mysteriously vanished. Rhys said he knew nothing about it, and then mentioned there were no bodies, before promptly cutting off his ECHO device and never speaking of it again. None of your business, and frankly you're not nearly nosy enough to care.
You tried not to seem like your mind was elsewhere, still shaken from the encounter with Zer0. Instead, you politely smile and nod along to whatever the new guys are saying.
"Uh huh...well, good to see you guys are so eager to get started. The CEO decided to have some of the Crimson Lance join you guys as bodyguards. They'll make sure you're safe while you sweep headquarters, uh, no pun intended. Not all of Maliwan has been booted out yet."
They nod, murmuring their thanks.
"Great, the boys should be up here any minute. Feel free to mingle. Rhys wants the overall sweep done by about six. You can come back here and report the damages and body count to me and I'll pass it up to the big guy upstairs."
Rhys had always instructed you not to be too formal. He said it "ruined the vibe" he was going for. It was odd, you've never worked for a company that was purposefully attempt to maintain such a lax attitude. Especially right after an attempted invasion, takeover, and then additional total destruction attempt by Katagawa Jr. But if he said he wanted it done a certain way, you were going to make sure you adhered to his preference. The little voice in your head once again reminds you with a guilty twinge that it was the least you could do. It still felt weird to drop all the "sir"'s and formalities after years of having to do it at Maliwan.
You wonder if a company with that kind of hierarchy could last long against the other ruthless giants. With Hyperion gone, Dahl still getting back up on their feet from when Hyperion had initially come to power, there's once again a central power void waiting to be filled. Could Atlas actually do it? If Rhys could genuinely return Atlas to it's former glory, that would be incredible. You don't know if it's possible for mega corporations that primarily compete in the gun market to ever reach peaceful agreements, but you certainly believe Rhys might be able to pave the way to that new frontier.
Then again...he has his own shortcomings.
You hadn't known him long, at least, not before he became a CEO. But you're aware of his weaknesses. One of them, maybe being that his pet assassin slash bodyguard seemed to be allowed to free roam and terrorize whoever he wanted on a whim of suspicion...okay that one might have been a little personal. But, you've got the report and gave your little speech to the new maintenance team, so now you have time to go and talk to Rhys. You can communicate those feelings and hurt instead of letting it rot you inside, like you would have done at Maliwan. You still can't help but feel bitter, almost automatically in a bad mood whenever you're reminded of working for them...
Goddamn Zer0.
Of course it's not fair for you to be allowed to forget. Not with all the destruction and innocent lives Maliwan had cost Promethea. And you'd been on the payroll. You try not to fall too far into your own head as you turn away and head back to the elevator that ascended to Rhys's office. It's an uncomfortable wait, and an even worse silence. Usually, you stop to gaze a little at the massive aquariums lining the way to the CEO's office. But this is urgent.
Rhys looks up from his desk at you and smiles, although you feel like there's something...wrong.
You practice some restraint, and decide to give him that report on maintenance first.
"So yeah..."
Rhys pushes his chin into his hand. "I hope they don't find too much damage. I gotta be even more on top of it with the finances around here, what with how I'm gonna have to rebuild the city too. Or bodies," he gives a nervous laugh, "hope they find even less of those. Identifying, funerals, cremations, burials, finding the families, it gets pricey y'know?"
Right...that was the other thing about him. While he's not nearly as bad as the other CEO's you've heard about in your lifetime (you heard Handsome Jack was a total monster), Rhys can be a little callous at times. CEOs generally seem to have a disconnect between themselves and everyone else lower in the company. A special kind of corporate breed of lacking empathy that can be a bit disturbing. His isn't especially awful but...you worry. You hope he can keep himself on the right path.
At your lack of response, he shifts a little in his chair. "You...uh...are you alright, (Y/N)?" he suddenly asks.
Your eyes won't meet his. "Can we talk? Privately."
Rhys wonders if it's the smartest idea to grant that request. He knows Zer0 is in the office right now, being weird and invisible as usual. They're a great bodyguard, but Rhys sometimes feels a little nutty talking to thin air whenever Zer0 doesn't feel like uncloaking. The presence is usually comforting but...
You won't even look at him now? Uh oh...
Fix this, Rhys, fix this, come on... he tells himself.
"Yeah, totally, of course." He turns in his chair, to a corner he hopes Zer0 is in.
Sometimes they like to hang out near the bookshelves or the couch. He clears his throat. Zer0 promptly reappears on the opposite side of the room, prompting Rhys to embarrassedly swivel his chair the other way. Had the bodyguard been trying to make him look stupid in front of you on purpose? Anxiously, he goes to check your face for a reaction, to see you judging him, or amused, or...or still staring at a wall, away from him. His heart sinks a little.
"Just for a minute or two, Zer0," Rhys calls after him, having a feeling he won't be too far away.
"Later, bro," Zer0 replies, walking out the office, still keeping himself visible.
If the assassin wanted to he could easily cloak and sneak back in. Which Rhys sincerely hopes they don't. Even though Zer0 had reported back that you'd only reaffirmed your loyalties to him, Rhys knew they still didn't trust you completely. Which is...fair. Anyone can say anything if they're under enough pressure. And he's seen Zer0 work enough to know how terrifying the guy can be. As well as unpredictable. As much as Rhys trusts them, it always seems like they're thinking eight steps ahead...freaky.
Rhys returns his attention on you.
You give a soft exhale, like you're preparing to say something you don't want to. "Look, while I was going to get that update on maintenance, uhm..." Zer0 had attacked you, basically, was the truth. But you decide to play things safe. Maybe it's just a misunderstanding. God knows, Zer0 does his job incredibly well, and this is probably just part of it--you don't want Rhys suddenly not trusting his own bodyguard.
"I...ran into Zer0. Well, they ran into me, more like it, but, whatever. And he-"
Rhys interrupts you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I asked Zer0 to do that. I just had to be sure-“ Your eyes finally meet his. The crestfallen look descending on your face is heart wrenching. Like he'd just kicked a puppy in front of you or something. Rhys wonders if it wasn’t the right choice after all to ask Zer0 to check your loyalties, to make absolutely sure you could be trusted. But lord knows he wasn’t brave enough to do it, not scary enough to get the truth out of you like the assassin could. He also couldn’t bare the thought of pointing a weapon at you, whether you were a traitor or not. Ironic, considering he's in control of one of many powerful gun manufacturers. He just…he knows he has to be careful from now and into the future. The bigger Atlas gets, the more enemies he makes. The Maliwan invasion had been a very quick, brutal lesson in that. You try to hide the disappointment on your face. Your voice comes shaky.
He knew.
You suddenly feel very stupid for coming in here in the first place. You shouldn't have said anything at all. You should have just kept it to yourself and moved on with your life, with your job, with your career at Atlas. It would have ensured this awkward, sad, stupid conversation never had to take place. “Oh that’s…that’s okay I guess. I just thought…I mean you always told me the past is the past and it’s all behind me. That you didn’t care and that it was all behind me.” The hurt in your voice makes this so much harder for him. “I know, I know what I said,” Rhys said, looking stressed. He runs a hand through his hair. There's some gray streaks already beginning to form. Embarrassing considering he's only in his thirties. “But…I needed to be sure.”
Even though he knows this was all for his own safety, and this whole test was initially Zer0’s idea to begin with, Rhys feels bad. Like, really bad. He still gave his bodyguard the go ahead. He scratches at his mustache momentarily, trying to think of how he could… “I understand, Rhys” you say a bit softly. He notices that there's tears beginning to form in your eyes. He starts to talk again, but you cut him off. “No, I really get it. I mean…only a few months ago I was basically under Katagawa Jr.'s thumb. You don’t have any reason to really trust me. Not yet, anyways.” Bitter but true. And an insecurity that’d always clouded your mind at night before you fell asleep. Sometimes you still had nightmares of bullets flying past your head and people screaming and dying around you. But you’d always wake up, knowing things were different now. That instead of racing to the training field, you just had to race downtown to grab some coffee or froyo or a bagel or whatever the hell Rhys wanted that day before work. That Rhys was different, that Atlas was different from Maliwan. He’d promised you that you’d never have to hold a gun again— once again, ironic as Atlas is still another soulless weapons manufacturer. But Rhys had promised and that’d been good enough for you.
Rhys looked even more uncomfortable now. He wears his emotions on his face. Something your former, much more homicidal boss never did. You don't consider that one of his weaknesses at all. “But I do trust you,” he insists, “I mean— I sent Zer0, but it’s -it’s, God, it’s complicated. I trust you so much I had to just see if that trust was for real, does that make sense?” It really doesn’t. If he trusted you there’d be no reason to suspect you in the first place, in your opinion. It hurts. He sees that little heartbroken look on your face still isn’t gone, even after his super smooth save. The tears are still gathering in your eyes and you still won't look at him. If he can't fix this, it's gonna drive him up the wall for the rest of the day. “Y’know what? Dinner.” He claps his hands together, grabbing your attention with another awkward laugh and you swear you see a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, let’s do dinner. On me. Food fixes everything, right? Best way to say 'sorry' ever.”
Could food fix a complete lapse in trust caused by his paranoia? He looks so earnestly at you, fingers still clasped together, almost like he’s begging you to say yes. Begging you to move past this with him and forgive this slight. Why not say yes? It couldn’t hurt. And it seems like it’s gonna make him feel way better than you would. Under any other circumstance you’d shoot this down. It's unprofessional to go out with your boss. It's wrong. It's not right to let him pay for your food. It's not rational to...to... The look on his face…he really does seem apologetic. You remind yourself that a boss like him is a rare thing during these times. You remind yourself that if there’s no Atlas, you’d be forced back to Maliwan or forced to try and make it on your own. Neither of those are options. You must have been thinking for a long time, because Rhys clears his throat and stands up from his desk. He approaches you, like he wants you to believe he trusts you not to snap and murder him. Because, hey, you used to be Maliwan, and that's all that you'd ever be to him-
“It’ll be super cas, no pressure at all,” he says, with another nervous breath of air, interrupting your rather horrible train of thought. “Uh, like a ‘yayy you’re not here to kill me’ thing.” “Alright. That sounds nice.” You smile at him but he feels like it’s not one of your real ones. It doesn't match the look in your glassy eyes. Was he shoving this onto you too fast?
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just wanna make it up to you-“ “Rhys,” you say, and he stops. “It’s okay. We’re cool.” You hold out a hand for him to take, in spite of your racing thoughts. He does, giving you a firm squeeze. His hands are always so warm. He lets go after a brief moment. He takes a moment to fix his tie, which only skews it worse. You have to sometimes wonder how a guy like him holds a position like this one, much less built the formerly dead company up all on his own. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” He says, and you nod.
“But the maintenance team," you start and Rhys puts his head in his hand.
"Right...right. Uh...seveenn?" he tries again.
To his relief, you give another validating nod that didn't make him feel as stupid and dumb as he felt initially. "Can I ask where we’re going?” “Nuh uh. Ruins my surprise. You gotta tr-“ He pauses. “Uh you’ll like it, okay?” You give a light, exasperated shake of your head. Rhys breathes a sigh of relief at the bit of playfulness and the tiniest smile on your face. Seven gives you enough time to get that report to Rhys and go home for a few minutes. But until then, you have a slew of other shit to busy yourself with that Zer0's approach had totally distracted you from. The least you could do was throw yourself into your work for the rest of the day. There are some times where you spend most of your day at Rhys's side, waiting for a command or for him to need something. There are other days where you're out and about, in the halls of headquarters, or the streets of the city. Regrettably, you're relieved that it's the ladder today.
“Don’t worry, I do trust you,” you call out half heartedly as you leave. Rhys wants to take one of the monitors off a nearby desk and smash it against his head. That couldn’t have gone any worse. ‘You gotta trust me’ seriously? After what he just did to you? A bit of a groan escapes him and he goes back to his desk to sit down. Hopefully he can wrestle a reservation out of the place he had in mind. He figures you’re just telling him what he wants to hear— you’re a good employee like that. But before this all, you probably would have told him the truth. That dinner won’t fix him betraying you like this. That it’s not gonna magically put down the metaphorical middle finger he’d just put up to the months of time his relationship with you was built around. To the hours you spent basically at his beck and call. Doing whatever he told you to without a question or second thought. You'd always given off the impression you thought he was brilliant. And that made Rhys feel good. He's worried you won't ever look at him again like that.
He drums his fingers on the desk, resting his chin and mouth in his hand again as he shuts his eyes.
On the bright side…he’d finally had the balls to ask you out. Part of the reason he’d wanted Zer0 to interrogate you was because he’d really wanted to try going out with you. Obviously, he hadn't exactly jumped to let Zer0 know that. He still had a personal life! He was allowed to do that! CEO or not! He opens his eyes and reaches to the photo of Sasha on his desk, suddenly feeling guilty, and goes to place it face down. But he hesitates. It’s…kinda lonely at the top. He feels it tenfold lately. And… well your smile had started kinda being the highlight of his day. Now he fears he's never gonna see the real thing ever again. She’d want him happy right? He pulls his hand away from the picture. There’s nothing wrong with this. There’s nothing wrong with a guy like him wanting a girl like you. Of course there’s that pesky power imbalance, the fact that he’s your boss could make this messy… But other CEOs just do whatever they want, right? They don’t think about any of this shit. Although he doesn’t like thinking back to his time at Hyperion, even he remembers Handsome Jack’s reputation for fucking just about anything that moved. Whatever he wanted, he got. That was why Rhys had begun to admire him in the first place.
Rhys rubs at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be like Jack though. Or Katagawa with that stupid ‘pleasure yacht’, or any other nutcase CEO. He doesn't want to just...just bend you over the desk and fuck you, like you're just something to use, he swears to himself it's not like that at all! It's more than lust that tortures him. He wants you to like him. So desperately bad. He knows you like having him as a boss, that you like his stupid little jokes, that you like his mustache (he'd asked you once to be sure), that you enjoyed his company. At least once you did. But he wants you to like like him. The same way he feels about you. But it’d have been dangerous to let you in so fast without knowing for sure that you weren’t Maliwan’s last hurrah in an attempt to end his life. That you weren’t some super secret cute seductress spy attempting to exact revenge for Katagawa Jr. He wondered if it’d be rude to ask what your relationship with the other CEO had been. After how well everything else had gone? Yeah, probably.
You'd been pretty low ranked in Maliwan, from what little you'd told him of it. He doubts that you'd ever received the high honor of boarding that stupid fucking pleasure yacht. He felt himself get a little angry still, at the notion of something he'd likely made up in his head and had no ground to stand on whatsoever.
“Should I follow you?/ She could still try to kill you./I know I would try.” Rhys jumps a little as Zer0’s voice comes out of thin air. He’d forgotten that he'd sent the bodyguard out. And he certainly hadn't noticed him sneaking back in. Well not, sneaking, more like just sauntered right back in, plain as day and Rhys had been so lost in his incredibly frustrating thoughts he hadn't noticed. It'd been...a smart choice to have Zer0 leave the room. He’d have felt worse having him skulk around all invisible. Chances were the assassin had already listened in. And Rhys was none the wiser. What a powerful ally…He finds himself grateful Zer0 is on his side, even if he doesn't quite know what the answer is.
“Ah, no,” Rhys says. “It’ll be alright. She’s not a Maliwan spy or anything— you heard it yourself.” Zer0 gives him a look that needs no verbal explanation. “I mean, you did interrogate her yourself. I don’t think she’d lie to you. Or me, as a matter of fact.” Zer0 just shrugs. “I will still come with./ I will be outside the place./ Your foes still draw breath.” Cool, a bodyguard outside the restaurant. And Rhys promises he’ll tell you too. Nothing but transparency from here on out! He can be better for you. Rhys wonders if it’s bordering on delusional to think he still has a chance with you after today. He’s reminded that you don’t have anywhere to go but Atlas. Anyone else would have breathed a sigh of relief at that security. But it only makes Rhys feel worse.
What if you’d only said yes because you couldn’t say anything else? He’d never wanted you to feel as if turning him down wasn’t an option. You had seemed pretty genuine in accepting the offer. But if he brought up the idea of dating…should he just hold off on that? But he thinks about what Zer0 said, that poetic stuff about his enemies still breathing. He does have people out there who want him dead. So if he’s gonna die, he’s gonna die like a man, dammit! And he’s gonna tell you how he feels because that’s the manly thing to do! Emotions are manly! Sharing them is manly! So why does he feel like he’s gonna throw up on his desk? Focus, Rhys, focus. The reservation hasn’t even been made yet.
He hopes you'll like the place he picked. That is if you don't find an excuse by the end of the workday to flake out on him. He knows he might do something like that if he was in your position. Several hundred feet down, in the heart of the building, you do your best to stay busy and keep your mind off...everything. Every time you feel dread begin to rise, you beat the feeling back down.
Free food. Free food. Free food. Free food.
The repetition doesn't seem to help.
When the end of the day comes, time forever marching forwards no matter how badly you wish it wouldn't, you find yourselves at another crossroads. Maintenance had come back with their report. You knew you could take it to Rhys in person, as you usually do. It wasn't a formal policy or anything, it's just something the two of you had always done. In a company so absorbed in technology, it was important to have a little human contact. However you feel your stomach drop at the idea of jumping back on the elevator and going to his office...seeing him again. It's such a ridiculous turmoil--you have to see him again anyways later on in the night. But you just don't feel ready yet.
You need some time to yourself. You need fifteen minutes to go home and cry on your bed, to get all the nasty horrible feelings chewing away at your insides out. Let yourself fall apart so you can string yourself back together, good as new. Then maybe, just maybe, you could handle dinner with Rhys. The last think you want to do is break down crying in public. It had been so hard to bite back the tears in his office, harder with every word out of his mouth.
You make the difficult choice just to forward the report to him via ECHO. If he asks any questions you'll just tell him you needed a little time to get home and get ready. Luckily, as you begin to head out the door alongside other Atlas employees, you don't receive any incoming calls from him. You wonder if he's up there, with that guilty dog-caught-eating-trash look, probably kicking himself for all this. It takes a lot of restraint not to turn around and go back into the building to check on him, like you've gotten so used to doing.
Maybe that's the worst part of today--is that you want to go crawling back. You want to sweep this under the rug, pretend like none of it happened, pretend like it's normal for someone you trust and maybe even love to do this to you. But you just can't. It'll take time. Or a way bigger gesture than dinner, you guess.
Dinner itself started off as awkward as you had imagined it to be. It's Rhys, so you figured there'd be a level of awkwardness whether what happened today had gone down or not. He still hadn't called you, to your relief, and had simply forwarded the address to the restaurant and the reservation time to your ECHO. You'd told yourself before leaving the house that if you really wanted to, you probably could have faked sick to get out of this or come up with some other brilliant excuse.
But you don't. You don't have the heart to stand him up like that.
Oh also he's the CEO of Atlas and probably the man with the most power on all of Promethea. You'd weighed the possibility of him doing something drastic if you didn't show. You...you don't think he's that kind of man. But after the little loyalty test with Zer0, you're no longer sure. You're uneasy. So if sitting down for a little dinner with him takes that horrible feeling away, you'd do it.
He gives a bit of a weak, quiet whistle, hands in his pockets, somehow confident and nervous all at the same time. "Wow," he'd said to you, looking you up and down in your different outfit. "You look, uh, you look great."
He gives you his signature 'ok' hand signal, a habit he'd formed lately. You'd just responded with a curt nod, still not sure what to say to him. You hate this. He hates this too. It feels like the two of you are strangers all over again. He's briefly reminded of your first week at Atlas, at his side. You'd rarely spoken to him, you couldn't look him in the eye, you flinched when he did speak, and everything you did, you did absolutely terrified. It'd taken half a month to get you to stop calling him sir, and even longer to convince you to address him as 'Rhys' rather than Mr. Strongfork. Was it gonna be like that again?
What the hell was he thinking...
He visibly seems to deflate, the smile flickering on his face. You feel bad for your coldness--it hadn't been purposeful.
You clear your throat. "Y-You look good too, Rhys. Beautiful, as always."
That seems to perk him up a little. That dumb smile of his slips back onto his face. "Y'think? Parted my hair different, see?"
You honestly can't tell the difference or if he's joking. But either way, you just nod again. Whatever, as long as that horrible ice is broken. It shouldn't be there in the first place. You painstakingly remind yourself that it's his fault it's there to begin with. He lead you over to a table, near the back of the restaurant, towards a large window that gave a rather nice view of the city. Well, what was left of it anyways. He has a lot to rebuild.
"This spot used to be the best in the house," he explains a bit awkwardly. "It's been a...a little bit since I've taken anyone here so I totally forgot that the city's, uh, destroyed--you ever been here before?"
He has this way of talking where every thought just goes straight to his mouth. Like you can follow his train of thought alongside him. That's why you'd trusted him so fast and warmed up to him so easily before. Now it makes you wonder how he'd been able to keep his plan a secret from you. Had he planned to do that to you for long? Or was it a spur of the moment Rhys thing?
Stop thinking about it.
He was waiting on a response.
You shake your head. "No. I haven't had the chance to check everything out here."
Rhys wants to kick himself. Right. You'd practically spent most of your adult life working under Maliwan. You'd only come to Promethea to begin with because that's where you'd been ordered to go. Hopefully a waiter comes soon and saves him from this. Or...he could just be honest with you and say sorry. He'd been pacing the office, already planning out an apology in his head. He'd even written it down on a piece of paper, of all things, and then had promptly crumpled it up and threw it out. There's...there's a lot he wants to say to you and he doesn't have a clue where to start.
You watch Rhys call over a waiter with a rather brisk gesture that suggests the conversation is just as uncomfortable for him. Quietly, you put your order in. He orders wine-- a nice bottle from what little you know about fineries. You hadn't really imagined him to be a big drinker. He must be nervous.
"You can have some too. Obviously. As much as you want. My treat."
"Thanks," you say a bit blankly, finding your gaze wandering somewhere out the window.
He can wait for the alcohol to loosen him up a bit. To give him the courage to say what he need to. But he wonders if that might come across as inauthentic. If you'll think it's just the wine talking for him.
Fuck it.
"Look," he says with a heavy sigh, regaining your attention.
With your eyes on him, he's suddenly ten times more reluctant to continue. But he sets his jaw, he sits up straighter. His hand, the organic one, reaches across the table, in an attempt to mimic your forgiving gesture in his office earlier. You stare at it for a moment and Rhys heart stops in his chest. But then, gingerly, your arm lifts, and your place your hand in his. His fingers come to tighten around yours.
"I'm gonna be honest. No more lying, or hiding things from you. So I'll start by telling you that Zer0 is outside the building."
He waits for you to snatch your hand away, to stand up outraged and storm away from the table, right back out the door. He feel him almost brace himself. But you don't move.
"I'll hear you out, Rhys," you say, voice still low. "But I'm not going to make any promises that I can just magically forgive you, or we can go back to how things were, no matter what you say. To be honest, I'm not even sure how I feel right now."
"Of course, of course," he says, just sounding happy you haven't stomped off yet. "But you deserve an apology. So here it is. I'm sorry, (Y/N). I really am. It was a mistake to ask Zer0 to interrogate you like that. It was a mistake to ever doubt your faith in Atlas, in me. I know you haven't been with me long, but I honestly don't know how I would have stayed sane lately without you around. You're..."
Your work at Atlas is important to me. Say that.
"You're important to me," Rhys says finally. "Which is why I couldn't risk losing you if Maliwan was still...well, y'know, in the picture."
You're quiet for a moment. His hand's warm around yours. You've made no motion to pull away.
"I have a question for you," you say.
"Yes, anything," Rhys says, practically halfway across the table, he's leaning in so intently.
"If I had been a traitor, er, a Maliwan spy...what would you have done?" The question had been burning in the back of your mind.
Rhys hadn't even stopped to think about that. Maybe it's because even when he gave Zer0 the order, he hadn't imagine Zer0 would come back with anything suggesting you actually were a traitor. That made him feel bad again. He should have trusted his gut...he shouldn't have questioned you.
"I...I'm not sure. I wouldn't have had Zer0 hurt you, if that's what you're thinking. I think..." What would he have done? "I think I would have tried to figure out why. Why you were still working with Maliwan. Wh-which you aren't! I know that! But I would have figured that maybe they were blackmailing you, or-or threatening to hurt you, or something."
Your head tilts. "Why?" For the first time that night your gaze meets his again and he feels relief thrum through him.
"Because I still wouldn't want to lose you," Rhys said firmly. He gives a bit of a laugh. "No, I wouldn't give you back to Maliwan that easily, c'mon now. Who'd bring me all my bagels with the extra cream cheese and coffee and whatever stupid thing I'm craving if you weren't around?"
Your shoulders also move in a bit of a laugh. You know that you do more for him than that. He knows it too. But he doesn't have to mention all that.
Rhy's thumb strokes over the back of your hand. "And...y'know when I first found you, hiding under my desk--which is where I was going, by the way--I figured...something tells me you were just as afraid as I was. Even if you'd been sent there to definitely kill me on sight. I don't think you'd secretly work for a corporation that scares you that much when there's a better option. Atlas is wayyy too nice to betray, right?"
You give him a half smile.
"Okay, Rhys, you don't have to keep going. That...hearing that makes me feel a little better," you admit.
Your chosen drink and Rhys's wine arrives at the table. When he offers you a glass as well, you accept almost immediately. His apology, although initially hard to start, seemed to set your mind more at peace. You seemed to relax more, especially after a few more glasses of wine. Before long, the two of you are laughing and talking like you used to, over various plates of food that he's pretty sure neither of you will finish. Leftovers...nice. His suite's pretty barebones when it comes to fridge content because of how busy he'd been lately.
He had not known before offering you as much wine as you wanted that you were a bit of a lightweight. He realizes when he signals for a check from the waiter that the night may get a little more interesting. Especially when you were hanging on his cybernetic arm, finally outside the restaurant. It's difficult to keep an eye on you, the to go bag, and trying to pin down a ride all at once.
He manages and makes sure you gets into the car safe first. As he settles down next to you with a sigh, he glances over at you. You already look half asleep. He'd hate to wake you up, you look so peaceful...He turns his head to give the driver instructions but finds his words stuck in his throat.
He realizes he has zero idea where you actually live. “Uh…..” Guess you could just come home with him? You’re practically asleep on his shoulder already, head leaned into the crook of his neck.
He tries to stay as quiet as he can for the ride over, not wanting to wake you until he absolutely has to. You naturally come out of it when the car rolls to a stop outside the building. You don't really ask any questions as he guides you in with him. Either you're too tired, or you don't care enough to ask what's going on. Rhys feels a glow in his chest. Which means maybe you trust him again...? For real? Not in the fake, amicable way from before?
Rhys shoulders open the door to his suite for you. He momentarily abandons the food from the restaurant on the marble countertop. He brings you to the first place he can think of, or at least the safest, the bedroom. Like you think it's your own room, you collapse onto the bed yourself, without any further prompting from him.
"Man, remind me not to go drinking with you," he mumbled, throwing some of the covers over you. "You get sleepy wayyyy too fast."
His response is just an unintelligible mumble. For a moment, he sits on the edge of the bed as you nuzzle into the pillow--his pillow. Somewhere in your mind, you wonder faintly why your bed smells like Rhys for some reason. His weight shifts, an attempt to leave. The couch in the living room is plenty comfortable. And so is his chair and his desk back in his office if he doesn't sleep well tonight.
He hears the covers shift. He feels your fingers suddenly wrap around his wrist, gently tugging him back to the bed.
“(Y/N),” he starts, but he sees the way your eyebrows furrow, like you’re in pain. Much different from the peaceful mini-nap you had been taking on his shoulder in the backseat of the car. “Please... don’t leave me here alone,” you say softly, eyes still shut. “I don’t... I don't wanna be alone.” He barely catches the last bit your slurring is so bad, but his mind quickly catches up and connects the dots. Slowly, Rhys settles back down onto the bed. You keep pulling at him and with a sigh, he gives in fully, laying down next to you. A bit clumsily, your arms wrap around him completely. He lays, flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, as your hand rests on his shoulder, arm splayed put over his chest. You’ve turned on your side, face pressed to his arm.
Rhys is careful not to move the entire night, although he can't help dozing off a few times. He doesn't even know how it's possible to do that with the way his heart is racing in his chest. This...this isn't usually what he has in mind during his weaker moments where he can't help but picture you here, on his bed, with him. He finds his hand reaching up to grasp yours on his shoulder, holding gently overtop. Not wanting to move and wake you up, he manages to turn off the lights, from the bed. The perks of keeping his cybernetics and ECHO eye in such a high tech city, he supposes. The curtains pull, as if compelled, completely shut, to block out any further intrusive light.
Was this professional by any means?
No.
But then again, he thinks, gazing down at you, ECHO eye allowing him to see slightly in the darkness... when has he ever really cared about professionalism?
When you eventually wake, you feel like you just had the best sleep of your entire life. No screaming no nightmares, no clench of fear in your chest, no waking in a cold sweat. Could have been the alcohol, but it also could have been that you're not alone in the bed-...Wait a minute, where the fuck are you? Your fingers are resting on something, someone else’s shoulder. Your heart seizes in your chest. The last thing you remember was drinking with Rhys…his apology…wait. Slowly and tentatively, in the pitch black room, your other hand, the one that had been placed on his chest slowly drifts up to touch over a cheek.
You bite the inside of your own cheek, letting your hand travel slightly down until you feel thick hair under your fingertips, and a soft upper lip—it’s definitely Rhys. What the fuck is wrong with you? You both get drunk and the first thing you do is fuck him?! Completely unprofessional. Would you even be able to look him in the eyes ever again after this?! This was the exact thing you'd always been trying to avoid in Maliwan. It was all too easy to sleep with a boss open enough to the idea and get an easy promotion through that--you'd always sworn you'd never be one of those girls, as lucky as they were. And you'd especially sworn to yourself that you wouldn't do that with Rhys, even if he was cute and funny in that weird way and-
Jesus Christ. You suddenly feel a warm hand grasp over yours, the non-mechanical one. Rhys moves your hand down, hesitating over his lips briefly, before he decides it’s safer to just hold it at his chest again. He’s still wearing his shirt from the night before. His tie isn't even undone. Which means…you think about all the various ways you could have had sex…which means absolutely nothing. But…your underwear is still in place and your dress is only askew because you had likely shifted in your sleep. It’s like he can read your mind. “We didn’t do anything,” Rhys says, voice a bit rough from just having woken up. “You just…I was gonna go sleep on the couch, but you said you didn’t wanna be alone.” Your face heats with embarrassment. You said that to him? “Oh��sorry. I just…” You trail off. Just because he'd been honest with you last night doesn't mean you owe him the same thing. You don’t want to tell him that every night when you go to sleep you have to relive Maliwan. You don’t want to let him know that there’s a personal hell waiting for you every time you close your eyes outside the workplace. You don't want- “Why don’t you wanna be alone?” Rhys finds himself asking, interrupting your quickly spiralling train of thought. “Maybe it was just a drunk thing but-“ “Every time I go to sleep I’m back, working for Maliwan, people dying all around me,” you find yourself confessing anyways, like you can't help it. Like you're possessed by some obligance. “It’s awful. I kinda thought it would stop after awhile but it…I dunno.” Rhys shifts a little. You think he might be looking at you. You see his pale blue ECHO eye glow a little in the darkness, fixed on you. “Did it help last night? I mean, me staying?” he asks. You nod. “Yeah. It did.” There’s really nothing else you can say to him.
You can't see it in the dark, but Rhys frowns. Every time you close your fucking eyes you’re back, in the middle of a battle, being shot at? Being miserable because of your former corporation? And it follow you even today? It still haunts you? And here he was making an assassin go interrogate you, thinking you were going to betray him and go back to Maliwan? He could not possibly feel sorry enough. He heaves a sigh, one that moves your hand on his chest with it. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I feel like even more of an idiot now. I had no idea-“ You shrug. “How could you? It’s not like I was sharing my dream journal with you over lunch.” You have a…? He realizes you’re just making a little joke. Awkwardly, he stays quiet for a few more moments. You feel him squeeze your hand a little tighter to his chest. “I…I wouldn’t mind if you did. I want that. Uh…” The mental health of my employees is very important to me! He could save himself now. He could bail on this whole stupid crush. He could keep this professional and just find someone else. But he just... can’t. “I really really like you, (Y/N). And you don’t have to say it back or pretend to like me to so you can keep your job. You’ll always have a home at Atlast, with me, no matter what your answer is.” You’re quiet for a few agonizing moments that feel like hours to Rhys with the way his heart is pumping. It's too early in the morning for this shit. At least he thinks it is. He actually has no idea what time it is. He feels you shift in bed, sitting up. Are you leaving? Already his heart begins to sink. He’s glad it’s dark in here so you can’t see how red he is. He breathes out a soft sigh, shutting his eyes momentarily. You see his ECHO eye’s light disappear. At least he’d finally said something. At least- He suddenly feels your lips at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, I missed,” you murmur, a bit embarrassed. “It’s dark in here.” Rhys can’t help but take your chin in his hand, adjusting your position so he can kiss you fully on the lips. The first is light, experimental at most. The kind of thing you can wave off as a mistake and walk away from. The second kiss… not so much. It's passionate, deep, your lips moving against his, like you want him in his entirety. Such a desperate, lonesome kind of need...the nature of your feelings towards him becomes just a little clearer to Rhys right then.
He’s breathless when you pull away, chest rising and falling somewhat quickly. “So…I’m guessing that means you like me too?” He asks, a hopeful twinge in his voice.
You fall back into the mattress, at his side, hand still grasped in his. You have no intention of pulling it away. With a sigh, you respond. “You have no idea.”
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Shadows of Affection
warnings: violence
Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader
Chapter 5: the new experiment
When you woke up, the sun hadn't yet risen, and as much as you wanted to stay in bed, you knew you had to get up. you sat up slowly, moving Coriolanus's arms off of you and getting out of bed. Corio shifted in discomfort before settling back in bed. You looked down at him for a second; even in his sleep, he never seemed to find peace. Though comfortable in bed, he still seemed to be in a state of internal turmoil, a raging war going on in his head. Turning away, You used the phone to call for your driver to take you home.
By the time you finally arrived home, the sun had risen. Entering the house, you were surprised to be greeted by Christa, who ran to you and checked you for injuries. "Ms., I've been waiting all night for you to come home. I had feared something awful had happened," she said, her voice shaky. "Your lord father is not pleased, not pleased at all. He has instructed me to tell you that you are to meet him in his office right after school."
That couldn't be good, you thought, but you weren't surprised. Christa kept checking you and looked like she was going to faint when she saw your bloodied uniform in your hand. "Christa," you said calmly, "it's okay. I'm alright, not injured, and I stayed the night at a friend's house. Everything is fine." Christa took a deep breath but still seemed uneasy. you gave her your uniform and went upstairs to your bedroom to clean up and get ready for school
you thankfully timed everything perfectly and made it out of the house on time, ensuring you wouldn't be late for anything. As you approached the Citadel, where Dr. Gaul's lab was held, you noticed the screen in front of the entrance coming alive with the events of the previous night. Again and again, they aired the tribute slitting Arachne’s throat, you arriving to help her, and the gunning down of the murderer.
you didn't notice it was you at first. It felt like you were watching this happen for the first time. you had tried your best to forget what happened yesterday, to push it all down until you couldn't feel it anymore. It normally worked, but now, watching Arachne die in your arms, it started to come back. you looked down at your hands and saw her blood, heard her pleas to save her, but you pushed it down again. You didn't have time to feel sad or afraid; you had work to do, people to take care of. Besides, you didn't know why you were acting this way. It wasn't the first time you saw someone die, not the first time you felt someone else's blood on your hands. You had seen worse, been through worse. So why did you feel this way? Maybe it's because you knew Arachne, had spent almost every day with her, knew her family. you shook your head, pushing all those thoughts away, and continued to the lab.
The Peacekeepers at the entrance didn't even bother to ID you anymore, having seen you come in almost every day. You stopped by the front desk to check for any mail for Dr. Gaul and, to your surprise, the Peacekeepers handed you the proposal that Coriolanus and you had crafted last night. He must have woken up shortly after you and dropped it off. you doubted anyone else would drop off theirs after what happened last night, which would make it less suspicious when you approved it and presented it to Dr. Gaul.
The proposal was perfect. Reflecting on the classroom discussion with Dr. Gaul and the electricity in the audience when they’d fed the starving tributes at the zoo, the two of you focused on the food. For the first time, sponsors would be able to buy items—like a piece of bread or a chunk of cheese—to be delivered by drone to a specific tribute. A panel would review the nature and value of each item. To sponsor, one had to be a Capitol citizen in good standing not directly related to the Games, ruling out Gamemakers, mentors, Peacekeepers assigned to guard the tributes, and their immediate family members. Regarding betting, you suggested a second panel to create a venue that would allow Capitol citizens to officially wager on the victor, establish odds, and oversee payments to winners. The proceeds from either program would fund the Games, essentially making them free for the government of Panem.
When you arrived in the lab, you found Dr. Gaul peering into a large terrarium filled with hundreds of snakes. Their artificially bright skins almost glowed in shades of neon pink, yellow, and blue. Not much thicker than a pencil, they twisted into a psychedelic carpet that covered the bottom of the case. "Ah, here you are, little dove,” Dr. Gaul said with a grin. “Say hello to my new babies."
you drummed your fingers gently against the tank. "Good morning," you said nonchalantly before walking up to Dr. Gaul and handing her the proposal. "Ah, and what do we have here?" she said, grabbing the papers and skimming through them. "Hmm," she said. "And what do you think, little dove?"
"It's not terrible," you responded. "It has good ideas. I would make a few tweaks, but if done correctly, I feel as though it could benefit the Games to a great extent," you added nonchalantly.
"Interesting. I'm surprised anyone even bothered to do it after last night... festivities," the word rang in your head. How could someone use that word to talk about a child's death? "I'm not surprised that he was the only one to turn his in. He's quite determined, a top student even," you said. Dr. Gaul snapped her head up at me and surveyed your face thoroughly. "Oh, and who wrote it?" you gave a slightly confused look. "Coriolanus," you said. Why would she ask you who wrote the paper? It should have his name on it. You swear he wrote his name on it last night. She stared at you for a second before smiling. "How delightful," she said before walking upstairs on the side of the tank. You followed her and watched as she opened the tank lid and dropped the proposal in. I tilted my head to the side and gave her a curious look. "Did you not like it?" you asked. She just grinned and let out a laugh. "Quite the contrary, little dove." "Then why did you-" "Just watch and learn, little dove. I have a new game in the making," she interrupted you. "Now, our guests should be here any minute. Why don't you go fetch them for me?"
you simply said, "Yes, ma'am," and walked towards the entrance, curious about what she had planned. Like clockwork, as soon as you reached the entrance, the elevator doors opened to reveal Coriolanus and Clemensia. You face paled for a second; I had completely forgotten it was a group project. You had only mentioned Coriolanus. Shit, I thought, shaking off the nerves in your gut. You stood up straight and greeted both of them before showing them to Dr. Gaul. You could feel Coriolanus's eyes on you, but you refused to meet them.
When You finally reached Dr. Gaul, she hadn't moved an inch. “There you are,” Dr. Gaul said with a grin. “Say hello to my new babies. Aren't they beautiful?”
“Hello there,” said Coriolanus, putting his face close to the glass to see the writhing mess.
“Is there a point to the color?” asked Clemensia.
“There is a point to everything or nothing at all, depending on your worldview,” said Dr. Gaul. “Which brings me to your proposal. I liked it. Who wrote it? Just you two? Or did your brassy friend weigh in before her throat was cut?”
you felt that wrenching feeling start to resurface at the mention of Arachne. Clemensia pressed her lips together clearly upset. “The whole class discussed it as a group.” “And Arachne was planning to help write it up last night, but then... as you said,” Coriolanus added.
“But you two forged ahead, is that it?” asked Dr. Gaul. What is she playing at, you thought. “That’s right,” said Clemensia. “We wrote it up at the library, and I printed it out at my apartment last night. Then I gave it to Coriolanus so he could drop it off this morning. As assigned.” Dr. Gaul addressed Coriolanus. “Is that how it happened?”
“I did drop it off this morning, yes. Well, just to the Peacekeepers on guard; I wasn’t allowed in,” he said. Something was strange about this line of questioning. “Was that a problem?”
“I just wanted to make sure you’d both had your hands on it,” said Dr. Gaul. This isn't good; this isn't right. She’s up to something bad; you can see it in her eyes.
“I can show you the parts the group discussed and how they were developed in the proposal,” he offered. “Yes. Do that. Did you bring a copy?” she asked.
Clemensia looked at Coriolanus. “No, I didn’t,” he said. “Did you?”
“They took our book bags.” Clemensia turned to Dr. Gaul. “Perhaps we could use the copy we gave you?” “Well, we could. But my assistant lined this very case with it while I was having my lunch,” she said with a laugh, shooting me a knowing look. you felt like you were going to vomit; there's no way she would know. There's just no way she'd make them.
“Suppose you two retrieve it?” Dr. Gaul suggested.
I felt like I was going to faint. Surely she couldn’t be serious. No one knows what a bite from one of those things could do; they had no real antidote. The snakes were a new experiment, and there was no telling what one of those things could do; they were untested. Clemensia gave Dr. Gaul a clenched smile.
“Of course. Do we just reach in through the trapdoor on the top?” Dr. Gaul removed the entire cover. “Oh, no, let’s give you some room. Mr. Snow? Why don’t you start?”
Oh dear god, she was really going to make them do it. I have seen Dr. Gaul do questionable things, but I never thought she would go this far. It wasn't Coriolanus that I was worried about, though; we didn't know much about the snakes, but we did know that if they were familiar with your scent, they would do you no harm. With the proposal in there, he should be fine; they should be familiar with his scent. It was Clemensia I worried about. If she stuck her hand in there, Lord only knows what would happen.
The situation grew tense as Coriolanus sought some form of guidance looking at you, but all you could do was watch helplessly. "Watch and learn," Dr. Gaul's words echoed in your head. But what was there to learn from potentially risking someone's life over an assignment? As Coriolanus smoothly retrieved the paper, the snakes didn't seem to mind his presence. Then, Clemensia reached in.
“They can’t see too well, and they hear even less,” Dr. Gaul explained. “But they know you’re there. Snakes can smell you using their tongues, these mutts here more than others.” Clemensia attempted to lift a sheet, and the snakes stirred.
“If they're familiar with your scent — a warm tank, for instance — they’ll ignore you. But a new scent, something foreign, that would be a threat,” said Dr. Gaul. “You’d be on your own, little girl.” Alarm spread across Clemensia’s face. She hastily withdrew her hand, but not before several neon snakes sank their fangs into her flesh.
Dr. Gaul's chilling demeanor hung in the air as Clemensia's screams filled the room. The lab assistants swiftly took charge, and as they injected her with a black fluid, her condition worsened. The colors of the snakes' venom mingled, dripping down her fingers. The lab assistants swiftly wheeled Clemensia away, leaving you and Coriolanus in a state of shock.
You and coriolanus attempted to follow them, but Dr. Gaul's stern voice halted you. “Not you, Mr. Snow, little dove. You stay here.” Coriolanus, in his concern, stammered, “But I — She — Will she die?”
“Anyone’s guess,” Dr. Gaul replied casually. Turning her attention to you both, she asked, “So, you wrote the proposal alone?” Coriolanus looked at you, and you nodded in approval. He then confessed, “No, I didn’t. Ms. Royce assisted me in writing the proposal.” Dr. Gaul, seemingly pleased with this admission, issued a warning. “Good. The truth, finally, Mr. Snow, if I see that side of you again, I’ll cut you off. If Dean Highbottom punishes you for it, I won’t stand in his way. Are we clear?”
Coriolanus and you exchanged a glance. “Very clear,” he said. “It’s good, your proposal,” she remarked. “Well thought out and simple to execute. I’m going to recommend my team review it and implement a version of the first stage.”
“All right,” Coriolanus responded, and you remained silent.
Dr. Gaul laughed. “Oh, go home. Or go see your friend if she’s still there to see. It’s time for my crackers and milk.” Coriolanus and you exchanged a look of relief before turning to leave.
“Not you, little dove. We need to talk,” Dr. Gaul's voice stopped you, and Coriolanus gave you a puzzled look before proceeding towards the exit.
Dr. Gaul's shift in demeanor was unnerving, her voice taking on a disconcertingly soft tone as she addressed you directly. "You know I've been good to you, haven't I, dear?" Her words felt like a weight. "I've taken care of you since your father's tragic end, guiding you, supporting you."
Her gaze bore into me, a look that conveyed a mix of intensity and expectation. "And yet you still lie to me. I’ve no use for liars. What are lies but attempts to conceal some sort of weakness? You should know this by now. I see potential in you, a potential I saw in your father when he attended this academy. But he decided to waste that potential, and look where that got him. I'm trying to help you, little dove, show you everything you can be. But if you lie to me, I can't do that. People who lie to me are seen as a threat, an enemy. You don't want to be my enemy, now, do you, little dove? Because you know what I do to my enemies." you swallowed hard, nodding, "I promise I will never lie to you again. I promise," you replied. Dr. Gaul offered a small smile before dismissing you. "Good girl," she said, the unsettling edge still lingering in her voice. "Now run along, it's time for my crackers and milk." Her words echoed in your mind as you left, leaving behind an uncomfortable feeling that lingered long after you had left her presence.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#a ballad of songbirds and snakes#sejanus plinth#coriolanus x lucy gray#lucy gray x coriolanus#the hunger games#my fic#fanfic#tom blyth#tom blyth x reader#lucy grey baird#young coriolanus snow
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saving thanksgiving | kyle broflovski

✩ character: kyle broflovski (+ stan marsh)
✩ synopsis: in which thanksgiving dinner at the marsh’s goes awry, so your little brother kyle and his best friend look to you for help!
✩ tags: cursing, brother-sister bonding, kyle’s older sister is friends with stan too, randy is a horrible cook, craig + butters mentioned, you get kinda maternal lol, literally just fluff. just fluff and cuteness, you take the boys on an adventure (you take them away from randy’s cooking), oc mentioned! (kenny’s older sister) not proofread!
you loved thanksgiving. how could you not?
every year the broflovski family would come from far and wide and cram themselves into your house, shuffling through the door in a line to pinch yours and your brothers’ cheeks before piling your mother’s delicious cooking onto their plates.
okay, you only really loved the last bit. it made up for the amount of ‘my goodness, you and your brothers are so big now — you know i used to change your diapers when you were a baby!’ the three of you heard. it was magical how sheila broflovski’s famous turkey, mac and cheese, stuffing, mashed potatoes and turkey gravy managed to bring the household together and make small talk so tolerable.
but this year, you weren’t able to feel that recurring joy. this year, you and your family were invited over to the marsh household to celebrate thanksgiving as a town. it took quite a bit of convincing from randy and sharon, but eventually your mother gave in on the promise that she wouldn’t have to slave away in the kitchen.
so your distant family resorted to staying in new jersey to celebrate while you and your family headed over to the marsh house with some other friendly families. your parents were pretty close to sharon and randy marsh, having known them for the many years you guys had lived there, so you were pretty well acquainted with the two marsh children; stan and shelley.
moreso stan because of his tight-knit friendship with your little brother kyle. shelley was right in her awkward stage and hated social interaction more than she hated stan, so she was holed up in her bedroom after stacking up a little plate for herself and nipping at anybody who dared to try to greet her.
the horror began when you filed into the kitchen when dinner was announced as ready only to find that randy was going through one of his chef phases again. granted, none of it looked terrible because they were all attempted copies of recipies passed down from the greats, but it was only when you started eating did you realize that randy mainly cared about presentation.
sharon glanced at her guests’ faces as they began to choke down their food, her eyes screaming apologies until they settled defeatedly into her lap. they had absolutely no hail mary: everybody was personally instructed by randy not to bring a dish so that he could really show off his skills. he was the only one who didn’t seem to find any faults in his process, wolfing down his food with several cans of bud light.
you exchanged glances with your parents, begging with wide eyes to be excused. you had told her about katie mccormick, kyle’s friend kenny’s older sister who was your age, and her plan to have a little friendsgiving, but your mother shot you down with a brief but stern glare. so you looked over to kyle and ike, who looked like they would commit the worst of the worst crimes for even a whiff of your mom’s garlic mashed potatoes.
the night went on pretty smoothly regardless, after everybody managed to scoot the food around their plates and pretend they had gotten full off of a few bites; you lingered around at the table for a while after dinner to talk with the adults about school and your job, sharing and relating horror stories and gossip until you saw stan and kyle slip away from the table and sneak upstairs. right before kyle vanished in a little blur, he had motioned for you to follow them.
it relieved you, and it was times like this that made you thankful for your close relationship with your little brother. and that was how, after a well-played excuse of needing the restroom, you wound up in stan’s bedroom with the two, slumped on the boy’s bed beside kyle while they played some cookie-cutter first person shooter video game. the two exchanged curses and exclamations with each round when your phone buzzed in your lap.
katie mcwhoremick <3: hey, you coming?
you sighed, head slumping against stan’s neatly made comforter. kyle gave you a strange side glance as you furiously typed away.
me: no, and i’m fucking starving dude.
me: gordon randy cooked this year.
katie responded after a while, her text bubble hovering.
katie mcwhoremick: oh fuck no 😭
katie mcwhoremick: i’ll save you and your brothers a plate? :/ i’ll have kenny bring them to you later or something?
me: my hero <3
me: nah, don’t sweat it, mrs. tucker brought some bread pudding thank god
katie only responded with a heart and you set your phone down to find both stan and kyle staring at you with mischief and devious plots behind their squinted eyes. “oh, god, what are you fuckers cooking up in there?” you groaned, the gravity of it setting in when you saw they had actually set their controllers down to think.
they refused to share their little ideas, both of them assuming the other was on the same page. so they resorted to silence, but it wasn’t kept for very long when an idea suddenly wormed itself into your brain and you shot up with a gasp.
“hey, do we still have that pizza in the freezer?” you nudged kyle, who easily bit the hook you had dangled in front of him. interest filled his green eyes and he looked over at his best friend to see if he was also considering the proposition.
he thought for a moment. “yeah, but how are we gonna get past mom and dad? and are we bringing ike, too?”
“yeah, i’d feel like an asshole if i didn’t invite craig. he’s suffering, too.” stan chimed in, to which you responded with a scoff.
“dude, one pizza isn’t gonna feed the current population. it’s us three or nothing. i don’t even think ike likes pizza.” you lied, knowing your baby brother liked to nibble on the soft dough and did very much enjoy pepperoni. but you were starving and you knew the two boys were, too. they were getting to that age where the kitchen didn’t stand a chance against them.
kyle’s eyes narrowed. ike likes pizza, his expression said. but eventually it faded into one of defeat and he shrugged. “yeah dude, i’m hungry. no offense to your dad, stan.”
“full offense, that food was shit.” stan mumbled as he shut down his computer.
you led the little group downstairs and prayed you could make it to the door without anybody noticing you, but it seemed your mother was waiting for your descent. “oh, bubbie, where are you kids headed to?” sheila asked, making all three of you spin on your heels.
you could see kyle and stan actively avoiding the curious gaze of their friend who was still at the table. a gaze that shifted to you while you recanted your rehearsed excuse of, “well, we need to take a few laps around the block and work off all of that food. kyle’s blood sugar might be a little off.” you lied, slapping the ginger’s shoulder when he shot you a ‘what the fuck’ look.
blame the diabetic, why don’t you? you heard his words echo in your head despite him never uttering them.
“oh, god,” sheila dove for her purse. “do you need his glucometer?” worry made her voice waver a bit, and you were quick to calm her down.
“don’t worry ma, he’s fine!” you started to usher the two outside. “just need to reconnect with nature, you know how it is.”
“you know, sheila,” mr. stotch spoke up from the other end of the table. “i don’t know how you do it. you never hear kids say things like that anymore. see, if butters was more like your kiddos, maybe he’d be here instead of grounded in his room at home.”
you winced at the idea of the sweet little boy locked up in his bedroom on thanksgiving, his parents enjoying — that being an overstatement — dinner without him.
while your mother graciously accepted the flattery, with a little concern, you slipped outside and ran down the driveway with the boys before anybody could question you guys further.
“are we seriously walking? your house is like a few blocks away.” stan grumbled.
“complain again, you’re going back upstairs, asswipe.” you shot back as you revealed the car keys that you had swiped from your dad’s coat on the rack by the staircase. the boys hurried into the car and in just a few seconds, you were barreling down the road, a frozen pizza on your mind.
you adjusted the radio to some van halen while the boys chatted excitedly among themselves, kyle hanging over the back of his seat to face stan. you wanted to poke him and tell him to put his seatbelt on, but he rarely ever had adventures like these.
“hey,” kyle started as he plopped his butt back into his seat. “thanks, dude.”
you spared him a quick glance, smiling. “yeah, yeah.” you patted the top of his green hat, smushing it down onto his ginger curls.
“yeah, thanks,” stan spoke from over your shoulder as you pulled into your driveway. “i wish i had a sister like you, man.”
“hey,” you said playfully, “you do have a sister and she loves you.” you pointed a loosely lecturing finger in his direction, flattered at the compliment but silently feeling a little bad for the way stan spoke about shelley behind her back.
you could never imagine yourself and kyle or ike having such a strained relationship. from the day kyle was born and ike came home from the adoption center, sheila and gerald drilled the importance of family into all of your heads. you cared for those boys like they were your own children, if that’s what having children felt like. sure, they pissed you off and worked your last nerve like they were getting $50 a minute for it, but they were your flesh and blood.
still, stan gave no response, only a thin-lipped stare that definitely told you otherwise. you rolled your eyes and gestured for stan to get out of the car.
the two dove onto the couch while you preheated the oven and fished the delectable boxed pizza out of the freezer to thaw for a minute. it didn’t take long for it to cook and the three of you had grubby plates and empty bags of chips scattered around the sofa while you watched the screen. you had no idea how fortnite worked so you opted to cheer and boo when you thought appropriate.
“dude that was so much better than my dad’s cooking.” stan sighed after the pair’s nth victory. the boys were beginning to get visibly sleepy and you knew you had about twenty minutes before you had to pull a blanket out of the closet for them.
you shot a quick text to your mom explaining why your car was no longer at the marsh’s house and to call you when they were ready to head home — which would surely be soon. mrs. tucker’s bread pudding definitely wouldn’t last long with them.
your attention was broken when you felt a gentle weight on your shoulder and glanced down to see kyle curling up against your bicep. you wrapped your arm around him, squeezing him in a hug.
“best thanksgiving ever,” he mumbled as they geared up for, very likely, their last fortnite round.

happy thanksgiving yall! hope everyone had good food unlike the entirety of randy and sharon’s dinner table 🫶
#south park#south park fluff#fluff#kyle broflovski#butters stotch#stan marsh#south park kyle#south park masterlist#kyle broflovski fluff#kyle brovlofski#sp kyle#sp fluff#sibling fluff#older sibling fluff#stan marsh fluff#sp stan#south park stan
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Cheesin and Grillin

Kotaro Bokuto x reader
Prompt: 🎶+ kitchen
~After a productive afternoon, you are happy to make up some grilled cheese for two
W.C: 2k+
A/n: this is a prompt from an old event I wanted to finish so I hope you guys enjoy!

You're not sure how it happened, but today has transformed from a leisurely day off into a hard-core cleaning day. Maybe the urge to clean everything in sight came in with the breeze that danced through your open windows, Or maybe you just felt like it because, for the first time in weeks, you have had nothing to do and a decent chunk of alone time.
It's not that your apartment is messy, but you and Bokuto have busy lives and many responsibilities. Responsibilities that take precedence over wiping down the shelves of your refrigerator and all those extra deep cleaning tasks that you aren't able to get to on an everyday basis.
A citrus-scented candle flickers in the corner of the room as you listen to your playlist over a little speaker. The flames seem to dance to the beat of your favorite songs. These songs may not be the most popular, but they are your favorite to listen to in the judgment-free moments that solitude can bring.
Your music is rudely interrupted by the pinging of your phone over the speaker. It pings again and again and again as you are bombarded by eager, loving text messages from your boyfriend, who must be done with his volleyball practice. You weren't expecting to hear from him so soon, when he left earlier this morning, he told you that his team was having a photo shoot for their new merchandise and he wouldn't be back until later.
Hey, hey, hey!!!
Guess what babeeeee??
Photo dude bailed and now I am freeeee
Coming home now!
Let's eat lunch together!!!
You snort as you read his string of messages. If they were sent by anyone else, you're sure that all of that information would be in one text. But not Bokuto. He wears his heart on his sleeve and sends his texts as soon as they enter his head. It's great that the two of you get to have a spontaneous lunch, but you can't help but feel a bit worried. Your boyfriend has an incredible appetite and will definitely need to eat something filling to fuel him after his intense practice session.
Making a meal for one is one thing; when you're cooking by yourself, it's easy to just get by taking handfuls of whatever sounds good. But lunch for two people requires cooking; it requires ingredients.
Ingredients that you might not have. These past few weeks have been so busy that neither of you has been able to go to the grocery store.
The linoleum floors of your kitchen have never looked shinier as you leap over the remaining streaks of water the mop has left behind to get to the now sparkling refrigerator.
Flinging open the door, you admire your handiwork. There is not a streak of stray condiments or puddles from a leaky takeout box in sight. Save for a few groceries, it looks almost completely empty.
Just as your stomach begins to rumble…
I guess Kotaro isn't the only one who's hungry.
You stare blankly into the fridge, enjoying the sensation of cold, lemon-scented air on your warm skin. Aside from a few condiments, there isn't much food to choose from, but what catches your eye is a block of cheese and the last half of the sourdough loaf your coworker made for you.
"Grilled cheese?" you say aloud, reaching for the two components. The idea makes you suddenly remember that you have a can of tomato soup in the pantry that you can heat up to make the meal more satisfying.
The bread is beautiful; its crust is a rich golden brown, and the inside looks like lace. You have no idea what your friend did to make such a perfect loaf of bread, but you know how heavenly it will taste once you toss it in a pan with some cheese.
With your fav on the way home, there is no time to lose. You remove a cutting board and pan from the drying rack and get to work. You set the pan on the stove and crank the burner to low as you begin slicing up your bread and cheese, making sure to nibble on a few of the not-so-perfect slices of cheddar goodness as a reward for all your hard work.
As the pan's temperature slowly climbs, you smear one side of the freshly sliced bread with some overpriced artisanal garlic butter that Kotaro bought last week for its cool packaging.
As soon as you assemble your sandwich ingredients and place them on the pan with a light sizzle, Your boyfriend bursts through the door like a happy hurricane.
"Something smells good in here, and it sure isn't me," he exclaims, smelling the masterpiece you have been creating.
His wild golden gaze scans you as he haphazardly tosses his gym bag on the floor. When he sees you, His smile is instant as he runs towards you and scoops you up with ease, peppering your face with kisses. "Ahhhh y/n! I missed you so much." He cries dramatically, his voice slightly panting from his barrage of kisses. "I feel like I haven't gotten to talk to you in forever."
"I missed you too, Bo," you say, leaning in and giving him a light kiss of your own. "But I'm glad you were able to come home early today."
"Right? Me too. The minute they told us we could go, I was out the door." His eyes are fixated on the pan as he picks off a piece of frying cheese with his fingers as he continues, "I almost ran over Omi with my car when I was pulling out of the parking lot because I was so excited, we never get to have lunch together like this so I am super excited."
"And was he mad?" you ask, watching him unbothered toss the fried cheese into his mouth with his usual unfaltering smile.
"I don't know, I was too excited to see you." if this man had a tail, it would be wagging up a storm right now. Suddenly, you both notice that a new song is playing through the speaker.
"Hey hey hey! this is that song you like, right ?" He asks with a grin. He sets you back on your own two feet and reaches a muscular arm over to the window ledge to crank up the speaker's volume as loud as it can go.
Grabs both of your hands. "Come on, babe, let's go crazy."
His energy is infectious, and you find yourself dancing along with him and belting out the words. You're not surprised that he took the time to learn every word to your favorite song, that's just the kind of man he is. He knows that when you care about something, He wants to care about it, too.
He spends on the beat, grabs a spatula off the counter, and starts singing into it like it's a microphone. When you're with him, it's easy to get swept up in his carefree silliness, and soon, the two of you are screaming along to the music like the fools in love you are.
Everything is perfect.
Until…
The chalky scent of smoke floats under your nose. And the spell is broken, your microphone is once again a spatula and the grilled cheeses you were making are smoking. Your eyes shoot open in a panic as you look across the kitchen at the pan you had left unattended. You rush over to the sandwich halves and flip them over in hopes of salvaging something edible.
But your efforts are in vain, the grilled cheeses are absolutely charred, inedible. Not even Bokuto would eat this mouthful of ash.
The smoke alarm, just your boyfriend's spiky black and white head, blares loudly/a painful noise, causing him to cry out in pain as he raises his large palms to his ears.
Damn it. All you wanted to do was make some grilled cheese, and now your kitchen is hazy with smoke, and the alarm is so loud you cannot hear yourself think.
"Don't worry, babe, I got it." He yells, sensing your distress. The athlete rushes around your apartment opening windows and turning on fans to try and clear out the smoke. But when the alarm continues to go off, he grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
He swings the garment rapidly above his head like a helicopter, and you can't help but admire his well-built physique; he's not just strong; all those hours in the gym have him looking like he was just carved out of marble. Although you have seen him shirtless countless times, the beautiful sight never fails to bring a flustered heat to your skin.
You are so focused on the extroverted artwork in front of you that you don't even realize that the smoke alarm has long since quieted.
"Hey hey hey, it looks like someone likes what they see." he laughs, suggestively wiggling his thick eyebrows at you. He flexes just a tad more just to tease you before putting his shirt back on.
With that wonderful distraction taken care of, you returned to your task at hand. Disposing of the lumps of charcoal that were supposed to be grilled cheese sandwiches. Your face falls as you look at your ruined lunch, unable to look at the monstrosity any longer; you pick up the still steaming pan and walk it over to the disposal, a heartbroken expression on your face as you mourn the loss of the bread. Maybe one day, your pal will make you another loaf, but at this point, do you deserve it?
"Wait," Kotaro says, suddenly holding out his hands. He is looking at you with the same expression he makes when his team manager pulls him away from signing autographs for starry-eyed children. "Don't look so sad y/n, I don't want your hard work to go to waste. I'll still eat it."
He reaches his hand to the skillet, ready to pretty much eat ash to make you happy, but you laugh and dispose of the 'sandwiches' before he attempts to poison himself.
"You're so sweet, Kou, but these sandwiches are ruined, and there's not much else in the fridge." you frown as you try to think of a backup plan. There's an overpriced market on the corner, you could run down there and just grab something for you two to eat and then go to your usual grocery store after?
But there is something so disheartening about going to the store twice in one day, it seems like a waste of a trip.
Although he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, your boyfriend's eyes light up. "I have an Idea, come with me." He bounds over to you eagerly and tosses you over his shoulder. ""I'm gonna take you out on a lunch date and then we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want." He is so excited about getting to spend the day with you he starts toward the door without keys, wallet, phone, shoes, or anything else that you need to leave the house.
"Wait, Kotaro. Let me down for a second," you squeal, a gleeful smile on your face. "I need to put on my shoes first if we are gonna go anywhere."
"Oh, right." he chuckles, setting you down gently. "Sorry, I guess I was getting ahead of myself again; it's easy to get carried away when I am carrying you."
You chuckle at his cheesy declaration as you lace up your shoes. Today's errand date will probably be anything but ordinary, but with Bokuto, you find yourself embracing the good-natured chaos that seems to follow him everywhere with the same love that you have for the rest of him.

Tagging: @sleepyyshroom, @isaacdaknight
#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#bokuto x reader#x reader#bokuto kotaro x reader#kotaro bokuto x reader#haikyuu!!#bokuto kotaro#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff
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Sfumato - Chapter Four
This took four hours, I don't believe in rough drafts. Also, Logan could very well smell the alcohol on (Name)'s breath the whole time.
Worst!Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Cis! Female Reader, Post DPAW
CW: religious themes and religious trauma, lots of ugly burning yearning this chapter, lots of substance abuse, very unhealthy friendship dynamic, themes of addiction, enabling, themes of early stage Major Depressive Disorder, Wade Wilson, bad decisions, lots of miscommunication and big feelings, the story is partially autobiographical, the (Name) in this is a little horrible but that's what character development is for
Divider by @/saradika
I am strong. I am courageous. God is with me, and I am so finishing that beer after this.
I try to comfort myself by repeating that phrase in my mind over and over and over as I white-knuckle my pen, taking in a deep breath as I step up to the booth.
“Well, howdy, neighbor. Seems someone finally feels human. So, what’s been up your ass recently? No, don’t tell me-... who’s been up your ass?” Wade greets me somewhere near cordially, grinning like he’s been praying for me.
I’m really missing my break right about now.
I can hardly look at him for longer than a second before looking down at my blank notepad, biting my tongue. I could bite it right off and save myself the trouble, but I enjoy talking, sometimes. This is not really one of those times. “I’ve been fine. Just busy. What do you want to drink?”
“I take back my comment about you feeling human. You act like a minimum-wage waitress being held together by Xanax and duct tape.”
“Coffee.” Logan gruffs out, still not looking up at me. He stares at Wade from across the table in a way that makes me think he might lunge across it. Which tells me that this ordeal was not his idea, and he does not want to be here.
Okay.
Maybe drinking won’t just be a today-thing.
“Coffee…” I repeat under my breath as I write it down. I don’t have to write it down, of course. It’s just coffee, but I want to remember how he said it. I want to remember how he said it to me.
“Mhm, that’s great. But enough flirting; water, please. I’m trying to slim down for summer. I don’t feel like buying a new swimsuit.” Wade interjects, neither ruining or contributing to the moment.
All I do is hum vaguely, writing down nothing but random scribbles as the air goes more stale between the three of us. I’ve never been good at small talk, but I figure I can at least inch Wade off of my back if I give him something. “Oh, yeah. Bikini season?”
“No, ma’am. I personally prefer a good tankini. Don’t go revealing your own tastes via projection. Speaking of, beer or wine?”
I nearly choke on my inhalation at his question. What? Why would he ask something like that? Does he know? He can’t. He can’t.
It takes me half a second to collect what little sense I have before I look around the table, a wary smile pulling at the edges of my mouth. I hold my notepad a bit closer to me. “Uhm… I don’t know. Why are you asking?”
That seems to catch Wade’s attention, like he can sniff out anytime I get uncomfortable. And I don’t know why that makes me so upset. I shouldn’t be so sensitive about people not taking me seriously sometimes.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not a plant for the ATF, I’m just curious. I’m throwing a little mixer tonight, and I wanna know what kind of cheese would be the best to draw in an evasive mouse like yourself. Don’t fear- I promise to keep the cat under control if you do show up.”
What cat? I thought he just had a dog. “I won’t be able to come. I get off of my shift around eleven, usually. I don’t drink, anyways.” Dirty liar. I don’t think even confession will be able to save me after today, and that’s only what I’ve done physically. I’ve committed more thought crimes in one day than in my entire life, I think. The thought makes me feel hot and trapped, like God has stuffed me into a bag.
Logan scoffs abruptly, finally looking up at me in surprise. He looks somewhat offended, as if my comment about not drinking is odd. Lots of people don’t drink. Besides, I’m not acting tipsy. I don’t feel drunk.
There’s no way he knows, anyways. I’d be utterly shocked if he knew what color my eyes are, let alone my very newly found recreational habits.
Wade just shrugs, as if this is all so simple, and glances across the table at his roommate. Maybe he really does want me around. Asking me to come to one of his parties is an olive branch. Maybe he thought I was jealous or something, watching his found family come and go every once in a while. I never thought much of it. Or that’s what I try to tell myself. “Well, still come by when you get home. Catch the tail end, have a few drinks. You know, it’s not exactly hospitable as your neighbor not to get you tipsy at least once. That’s just bad manners.”
“Yeah, fine. Okay. I’ll show up for a little bit, just don’t expect too much of me. I’m not the best at chatting.” I sigh, relinquishing this one thing to him. I want to talk to people. I want to be a part of something. But not for a while. No, that’s way too big of a task. I should try to get to bed early tonight, for the sake of my soul. No more distractions. No more of… this. I’ll be a little better. Tomorrow will have to be better.
He opens his mouth up to respond with something, but I’m already turning around and walking away, still clutching my notepad to my stomach. That was rude. Walking away was very rude. But Talking can just be so smothering. Especially when you’re the awkward one. It’s almost easy with Lily, because there isn’t any need to impress her. Maybe it’s the pills and pot, but she’s a bit easily impressed. I wonder what her boyfriend’s like, in that case.
When I make it back to the kitchen, I shove my notepad to Lily with a huff, before walking off to the break room. “Fifteen minutes. Please just come and get me when it’s over. I’m exhausted.”
“Uh- Uh, right. Coffee and… Does this say ‘water’?
“Yeah.”
“‘Kay. Your beer is in there already. Don’t drink it all.” She reminds me absentmindedly as she goes out of the door.
I flop down into the chair I found my phone tucked behind, letting my head smack back against the wall. My nonchalance rewards me with a sharp pain and an “Ow” that I’m sure my coworkers in the kitchen can hear.
Right. So, I basically got invited to a party. How normal and simple and run-of-the-mill- except that I’ve never gone to a party before. Yes, I know, it’s absolutely pitiful that I’m in my mid-twenties but haven’t been to one real party.
I won’t stay too long. It’s just a ‘mixer’, a few drinks and a few minutes standing awkwardly off to the side. Maybe this will help take the weight off of my shoulders. I hear it helps.
I believe in myself. Because I have to, this time.
I cross my arms over my chest tightly, rubbing my upper arms. Just for today. Then things can be normal again.
-
“(Name). (Name)!”
I hadn’t realized I’d nodded off until I was being shaken awake, Lily jostling my forearms until my head snapped up. She frowns at the sight of my eyes flying open, pulling away to settle my notepad back in my lap.
“I gave you twenty minutes. You should’ve seen his face when I went back out there with the drinks and not you. Starin’ into the cup all pissy and grumpy. I got their orders down, but it was literally so uncomfortable.”
“Eh. That’s kind of surprising. I didn’t think Wade really cared that much.” I mumble as I get up, looking at the order scribbled down. Just the same as yesterday's order.
“Oh, Wade? That’s his name? He doesn’t look like how you described him. I must’ve gotten them confused.”
“Yes, well, it’s kind of hard to describe a guy with burns covering his whole body without sounding like an ass.”
“Burns? I wasn’t-” Lily starts confusedly, which is interrupted by her phone ringing and me walking out, contemplating every line of the order. Does a club sandwich mean “I’m actually in love with you and I’m always looking at you when you aren’t looking at me”? No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. What is there, like, a Victorian flower language, but for diner foods?
I wouldn’t put it past Monroe to have published a book on that. I might have to run it by her one of these days, if she hasn’t.
I stumble out of the breakroom, hurrying through the kitchen to peek out into the dining room. No one else showed up during my impromptu nap, but the room couldn’t have possibly been more full than it is right now. It feels like Logan is so molecularly dense that he fills up and overwhelms any room he steps into. It’s kind of irritating. It makes the skin between my shoulder blades dampen and my stomach twist painfully inside of me. I want to think that God has learned to look away from the slow-motion tragedy my life has become.
I pull my head back into the kitchen before anyone can see, leaning heavily against the door frame as my gaze falls to the tile floor, rubbing the edge of a sheet of notepad paper between two fingers in the pocket of my apron. The concept of going to a party is kind of stressing me out. I mean, sure it’s not a full blown extravaganza- do people actually use that word?- but I haven’t been to a party before.
But maybe all of my worrying is for nothing. I mean, I never thought I’d drink, but I’ve taken to it like a fish to water. Of course, this is all for today. Something to calm my nerves and something to calm my neighbors. It’s one day of sin in a lifetime of repentance. I’ll be okay. Things will be okay.
They’ll have to be.
-
“Two club sandwiches.” I announce dryly as I carry over the plates, settling them on the tabletop silently. I take a step back as Wade waves his hand slightingly, turning upon his sandwich like God will upon my soul after I die.
Sorry. Too serious? Too serious.
“Yes, thank you, (Name). Excellent job, you only interrupted me giving my companion here a very important, philosophical tip about going through life. Do you get paid extra for interrupting people, or is it just a passion?”
“I’m not going to show up tonight if you talk to me like that.” I state tensely as I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my apron to soothe myself. Yes, I know- it’s very unfortunate that I have to comfort myself over any little comment, like a young girl wearing a woman as a suit. I don’t think that drinking alleviates a sensitive heart, I just think it distracts you from it. In the very farthest edge of my peripheral vision, I spot Logan’s eyes snapping up to Wade’s preoccupied features, staring a hole into his forehead. I guess he must be being more sassy than usual today if that’s what catches Logan’s attention.
Wade’s confidence wanes after a second, and he faces me with a sigh, tucking his hands under his chin. “Okay, then, I’m sorry. But, on the subject of tips, how am I to deliver yours? Do I, like, stick it under the straps of your apron, like this is conservative Hooters?”
My own defense is interrupted by a quicker, snappier “Shut the fuck up” from Logan, startling everyone at the table except Wade, ironically. My eyes meet his at a conveniently bad time and we both look away so quickly my eyes could’ve flung clean out of their sockets and I wouldn’t have been surprised.
That’s… awkward.
Don’t make it personal. Don’t make it personal. Don’t make it personal. They annoy each other all of the time. Swallow that down, because the way he responded could’ve come in the presence of any other woman on earth.
I clear my throat roughly, taking another step back as I glance back towards the kitchen. “...Just leave it on the table. Like anywhere else.”
I turn to leave, the space behind me getting filled with a loud, drawn out groan from Wade. What’s that about?
When I get back to the kitchen, Lily is standing by the door, eyeing me oddly. She seems worked up, as if… Oh.
She heard what happened outside.
I stand a few feet from her, watching her facial expressions carefully. She looks rather tense over what happened. I don’t get what could’ve-
My speculation is interrupted when she leans in, muttering under her breath. “We should talk after work. Have a drink in the alley.”
I don’t have time to protest or bring up my after-work plans before she’s walking off, leaving me stunned.
That’s… concerning.
I can’t just leave her alone after that, can I? She seems a little upset over something. I’d be a bad friend if I ignored her wishes.
Beside’s, it’s just a talk outside. It’s right after our shift, too, so I won’t get trapped in it. It’ll be fine. We’ll figure out what’s strangling her heart then untangle it, then I can show up for the end of the party.
Good? Good.
-
I don't make it to the party.
No, scratch that, I don’t even make it home.
“So, what’s going on with that guy? Have y’two hooked up or something?” Lily slurs over a half-finished bottle while staring at the side of my face. Her third bottle, to be exact. We’ve found ourselves sitting in the alley behind work, myself tipsy, and her past the legal limit to drive anywhere. What was supposed to be a drink and a chat devolved very quickly when she confessed her boyfriend of three weeks who she’d fallen madly in love with dumped her the night before.
I had the horrible feeling that this was all about Logan. Now I’m paranoid that she’s intending to stake some kind of drunken claim.
My cheeks heat up at her question, and I glance down at my hands lying in my lap, thumbing at the smooth glass of my now empty second bottle. I shrug vaguely, my voice soft. “I dunno. He’s just… cool. Kind of impenetrable. He doesn’t cause any problems, and he doesn’t let any go unchecked. That’s cool.”
“Uh, is it not because he’s hot? Like, ultra-DILF hot?”
“Liliah, what are you saying right now?”
Lily just hums unrecognizably and shrugs her shoulders in what I’m sure is supposed to be a shrug of her own. I guess she’s found herself in the speaking-in-tongues part of being drunk. She’s taking this drinking pretty seriously. Her ex-boyfriend gave her stuff. She told me. I think that’s why she loved him so much, and so quickly- her mascara and eyeliner is smeared under her eyes. I’d hug her, but I don’t want to risk her puking on me. She was kind of eating her feelings out after Wade and Logan left.
We sit in a silence that’s adjacent to comfortable, the sounds of the city distant and atmospheric. The thought of Wade’s mixer pops into my head, nearly startling me out of my skin. Fuck. Did I really forget? When I think about it harder, I realize I should’ve probably been home a little while ago. Probably. I don’t know, time is kind of iffy right now. And I don't have the sense to just take out my phone and check. Ugh, I’m sure he’s gonna be on my ass about it.
No, that’s too confident of me. I’m sure he’ll wake up with a skull-splitting headache tomorrow, and he won’t have any strength to think about me. That both eases my nerves and makes me feel like a brick has been thrown through the glass pane of my ribs.
Lily huffs and sits up straighter, muttering to herself indistinctly. It takes me a moment to even register that she’s actually talking to me. “I mean, just, like, protect your heart, girl. You need to take care of yourself a little more- don’t ruminate in that bad shit, have some fun. Drink on tha job if you gotta, no one will tell. I will- I will personally beat up anyone who tells Monroe. If they do. You got all that bad stuff inside of you, just get away from it for a little while.”
I try to interject, to tell her that this is all making me feel about three pegs shorter in actuality, but she keeps going. “Yeah… ‘cool’. The- The thing is, (Name), cool guys aren’t into us. It's always dummies and dickheads that stick with us. Cool guys fuck messy girls. They fuck them over. Cool guys keep cool girls. They don’t marry the messy girl, even’f she breaks herself into a million teeny tiny pieces for him. ‘Kay?” Lily mutters from where she sits, her eyes staring blankly down at the bottle in her hands. It's not exactly a contemplative expression, but I know there's a universe of words behind those eyes.
Has anyone ever tried to get them out?
We sit in silence for a long stretch of time, her eyes downcast and mine pinned to the brick across from me. The sounds of the city's nightlife echo at the end of the alley. This is the closest I'll ever get to heaven, I think.
“...I could be cool.” I mumble, my voice just shy of inaudible. It's nothing short of wistful. We both really are pathetic, honestly. I don't have to look over to know Lily’s cheeks are slick with silent tears.
It takes her a moment to respond. “I know, (Name),” Her voice wavers. “I know.”
More silence fills the air between us. It's lighter now, but in the way that you can technically breathe smog and not CO2. It's not a nice silence. But it's manageable.
I wonder what he’d think if he saw me like this. I can't conceptualize it properly, it seems so fantastical. But I can't really tell what the fantastical part is- Logan seeing us- seeing me- like this, or him having any kind of thoughts on it. I don't think he'd care, honestly. He's enigmatic and impossible, like a hellenic statue that I can see in a museum but never quite touch because of the velvet rope between him and I. He's something like perfection, even though I know he very much isn’t perfect.
I have become a fool. I stare down a man who can only glance at me. He is a god I cannot hope to pray to. He is the golden idol my grandmother always preached about.
Like any good god, I cease to exist in his mind when I am no longer right in front of him.
I lower my eyes to my chapped hands, lying stupidly in my lap. I feel bad for brushing off Wade’s invitation. I’m returning to myself, in a bad way. Now that my day of wondrous apathy is over, I get to be ashamed again. I get to have my heart wrenched out of my chest at how I’ve, once again, dodged an attempt at connection. But I couldn't have stood in his apartment, I wouldn't have survived. Like some desperate mutt, I would have stood in the midst of all Logan’s things and imagined myself one of them. Where would I fit into his life? What place would he make for me?
There's a steadiness about this I like. There's no expectations with Lily. She seems to only care that I do what needs to be done, no matter how I do it. She doesn't want to piece me back together, to help me. It's so relieving to not have someone want you to be better. She yells at me in the morning and sits with me in the night. We comfort ourselves in missing parts of ourselves without needing to make our halves match together.
She quietly holds out her bottle to me without bothering to look at me, and I take it lightly, without thinking. I finish the little that remains off with an ease I never knew I’d have.
I do not have to be better tomorrow. I will just make it to the day after tomorrow. No one minds if I fail.
Lily leans over beside me, lying her blood-red head on my shoulder. I’m pretty sure she's asleep before her temple even touches me. I don’t bother to wake her up or move.
As my own eyelids grow heavy, I wonder what my grandmother would think about this. I wonder what anyone would think about this
Not much, I assume. I don’t have many people to think about me.
#sfumato#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlet x reader#james howlett#james howlett x reader#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wade wilson#deadpool#x men
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My OCs in 'Dungeon Meshi'





What the title says: if they were in the world of Dungeon Meshi
Forgive Spike's…everything— I was in a moving car when I drew him. I also changed what race I wanted him to be halfway through, hence the two pairs of ears
I did not have access to an eraser when I drew any of these
More thoughts below!
How each of them would react to eating monsters:
Tomoe wouldn't be…hostile to the idea. She understands very well it not only saves money, things they'd need to carry, and how long it'd take to traverse the dungeon; practically eliminating the need to return to the surface unless something drastic were to happen. When she brings up the idea, she can already guess how each of the others would react to it. But she won't force anyone; she's understand unwillingness. As for her own feelings: before they begin to cut the monster up to prepare food, she thanks it for its sacrifice. She's…a bit reluctant to let herself admit it tasted good, though. But she decides to ignore it and instead focus on the 'sharing a meal with others' aspect. Partly so none of the others will get cold feet about it, which she definitely knows could happen if they saw their leader hesitant to her own idea.
Favorite monster meal: Griffin Soup
Veronica grumbles about it at first, but ultimately eats it, understanding they don't have much choice. And Tomoe framing it to her as a means of survival made it easier for Veronica to accept. Gotta do what you gotta do to survive to see another day. She gets used to it rather quickly. And she also quickly started to pick anything bitter off of Victor's plate and exchanging it with something else from her plate, like she always had. Despite how the gruesome the scenario was, she was happy to see him that happy; he hadn't had that look on his face in who knows how many years.
Favorite monster meal: Nightmares Steamed in Sake
Victor is thrilled. He's called first dibs on dissecting ALL the monsters before they eat them. He often saves little parts of them, mostly bones, to use for more undead minions medicinal reasons. He's particularly interested in the humanoid monsters, like mermaids, harpies and dryads. Also finds a lot of joy in studying monsters. He's sad the others wouldn't let him keep one in a bag to torture and experiment on study.
Favorite monster meal: Exorcism Sorbet
Irina would not be able to eat it at all if she saw it get killed, or it has an even vaguely humanoid face. It'd probably give her nightmares if she tried. The whole situation forces her to think more about the fact that all the meat she eats was once alive. It makes her feel incredibly guilty. She's never been picky with food, but she can barely scarf it down.
Favorite monster meal: Changeling Dumplings from Fairy Ring
Junia, lover of all things macabre and monstrous, is very open to the idea, and curious about it, thinking it'd be interesting to try out new recipes. She treats it the same as eating any other animal, and quickly develops favorites. But she's also sad they haven't found too many friendly monsters. She thinks Victor is just interested in monsters like she is.
Favorite monster meal: Jack-o-Lantern Potage and Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese
Spike feels kinda sorry for the monster, especially if it didn't attack them right away. But he knows he has no choice; it's a dog-eat-dog world, after all. Especially in the dungeons. And he's gotta eat lots to keep up his strength so he can help the others. But he just would not be able to eat anything he considers 'cute'. As well as anything wolf-like; that just feels like a step too close to cannibalism— both just feel too wrong! He thinks eating things like snakes or dragons is cool as all hell though and is very excited to try it.
Favorite monster meal: Red Dragon Meal
Artemisia has been so sheltered that the concept of eating monsters isn't any more strange to her than anything else she'd encounter in the dungeon, or even on the surface in regular life. Besides, she'd read books about monster cuisine before. She's the only one who doesn't know eating all kinds of monsters isn't common, so has 0 qualms about it. Asks Junia to teach her how to cook.
Favorite monster meal: Boiled Mimic
Lisle hates every single bite and wants to throw up. It disgusts him that he's making such gross, 'unclean' and monsterous— well, monsters, part of him. But since Junia always seems so excited to have him try it, he knows he couldn't turn it down, even on the grounds of 'being a vegetarian due to his compassion for all living beings' (lies, he does not care that much) without making himself seem less kind. So he eats it.
Favorite monster meal: Portable Meal Set for Adventurers (does that even count as a monster meal?)
#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#oc#ocs#oc art#moony's ocs#moony's art#🦢artemisia#🐚junia#🥊spike#🐰irina#🌻tomoe#🐝veronica#🩸victor#😇lisle
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I don't think that they needed to change Blood & Cheese so much. I think it was horrifying in the show but that's not the issue. I think taking Helaena's choice out of the equation is a baffling decision. They didn't even have to include Maelor it could have been that she was asked to choose between the twins and they killed the boy after she made the agonizing choice to save him. Either way I was wondering why they didn't include Maelor in the show and was thinking maybe it was just streamlining or not wanting to have another child actor on set (which makes sense) but then I thought of something else.
Removing Maelor from the show and killing off Jeahaerys instead creates a situation that takes Aegon's succession back to square one in a sense. His only heir is a girl and the second in line is his scary and impulsive brother. Of course it's not exactly the same since Helaena is still alive and they are both young and haven't shown any signs of not being able to conceive again but I think it puts the people siding with Aegon just because they don't want a woman to be on the throne into a different light. This is basically the exact set up that lead to the current crisis and without a new male heir in the cradle it could easily mean another crisis exactly like this one in a generation or two. Meanwhile even if the lords don't want Rhaenyra to sit the throne she has many sons that could be king if the succession just passes through her. It's actually super similar the the crisis that the Dance opens with at the Great Council. Choose a male heir with no living sons yet or a female heir with a living son to pass the throne to. To me it seems that in this context choosing Aegon on hardline male primogeniture grounds is choosing to willing beat your head against the same wall forever without ever stopping to ask why. I mean this situation has now come to some sort of a head for two generations in a row. There are no good reasons to choose that path for a third time straight.
#house of the dragon#hotd#blood and cheese#asoiaf#got#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#rhaenyra targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#house targaryen#targaryen#george rr martin#dance of the dragons#the dance#the dance of the dragons#anti jaehaerys i targaryen
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HP X HH AU - Alastor is Harry Potter and Voldemort is his Shadow
I've got a whole concept idea for how Alastor time-traveled to early 1910s New Orleans and how he trapped Tom Riddle as his shadow- but that's a separate post entirely. This is about what happens if they get de-aged in Hell following their retreat from Adam. Because I want to see the Hazbin crew's reaction to Harry and Tom.
----
When Adam slashed him with his guitar, it purified both Alastor and his shadow to an age when they were still innocent.
Alastor, Harry, to age 11 -- moments before he'd disintegrated Quirrell to death.
Voldemort, Tom, to age 10 -- days before he led his fellow orphans into a cave to torture them.
They awaken in a crumbling radio tower covered in blood and a broken radio staff clutched in Harry's hands.
Tom, being raised Catholic and carrying all the trauma that comes with being able to talk to snakes from a young age, is the most terrified.
Harry still hopped up on the adrenaline of facing his parent's murderer from what he believes is only minutes before, manages to hear the creaking of the radio tower and get them out before it fully collapses.
They wander Hell and quickly come across various demons, all of which have nefarious intentions. They try to escape but even with magic there's only so much 2 human children can do against demons until-
"HEY!" Something hits the back of a hellhound's head, knocking him out and giving Harry the chance to run to stand in front of Tom.
They both look warily at their savior: a tall heavy-set demon with imp-like horns and bat-wings. In his hand was the broken guitar he'd used to smash over the hellhound's head. He looked angry.
"BITCH! You owe me a new guitar!"
----
Adam sees these kids and assumes they're the reason he's in hell. That he has to save them and then he can return to heaven - how else would 2 human children who reminded him of his own just happen to wander into his path?
So he takes them in and re-learns what it means to be a father responsible and care have empathy for his descendants. He meets other sinners who are not the worst and it makes him feel guilty confused.
For 3 months, he tries to find a way to get these 2 children back to the human world. They're both so bright and kind but absolutely fucking traumatized. He's going to have to find them better parents when he takes them back because they were under no circumstances going back to whoever they were with before.
Everyday he's with them, the kids open up just a bit more. What does it say about their homelives that they feel more comfortable in Hell living with what they think is a demon? They have so much potential like Abel and capacity for goodness like Cain before he-.
He tries -oh god how he fucking tries- to get them out of this hell-hole, but eventually he has to man up and ask for help.
HA! Sike. No, he obviously was supposed to demand Lucifer send them back. After all, it must've been his fuck-up that got these kids stuck here so it was his responsibility to fix it. Not Adam's!
Yeah that sounded right.
He marches up to the Hazbin Hotel with the kids behind him he wasn't scared shut up and knocks on the door.
----
Lucifer contacts Ozzie to open a portal.
Problem #1 The moment Harry touches the tear in realities, he hits a brick-wall. Or at least what feels like one. The portal is nothing more than a 2-way mirror for him. He can see but not cross-over.
Problem #2 Lucifer takes a closer look and realizes that their souls are already marked for Hell. But they're full of holy energy even after 3 months.
Adam refuses to believe this and demands to talk with Heaven.
Problem #3 ...No one has heard from Heaven since the failed Extermination.
----
Adam stays at the Hotel since it's safer for the kids cheaper than renting his overpriced studio apartment that smells like piss and cheese. Niffty fucking hates him though, he hurt her favorite bad boy! He's not dead she would feel it but he's gone again because of him!
Over the next 3 months, the kids grow. Not normally though, every time they make even a minor sin, they age rapidly before Adam's eyes. Sometimes he swears their nails seem claw-like, their teeth sharper when they smile, and their eyes seem to glow when he's looking out of the corner of his eye.
They eventually get in contact with Emily who first informs them that Sir Pentious was redeemed. She then takes a look at the kids with Lucifer. They discover that the children had been de-aged to a period of innocence due to the holy-light that had flooded them.
Lucifer tells Adam it was likely his holy-light wave that sliced the hotel in half that did the deed. They must've gotten caught too close to the blast-radius.
They hypothesize from their rapid age growth and behavior, that sinning will eventually revert the children back to their original demon forms.
And Adam-
Adam, for once in his immortal life, refuses to give up on his children.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel au#harry potter#hazbin alastor#tom riddle#hazbin adam#voldemort#hp crossover#hazbin hotel x harry potter#alastor is harry potter au#alastor's shadow is voldemort#POC harry potter#alastor is mixed#fic idea#cain and abel haunt the narrative so much#it's gonna be so fun when Harry remembers what a young Voldemort looks like#and by fun I mean traumatizing for all involved#we get a glimpse of paranoid morally-gray stalker Harry from Book Six#they all eventually get their 'redemption' arcs but Adam has the honor of going first#he insisted#this does not mean they all go to heaven though#I listened to epic the musical “600 strike” while I was writing this if that tells you anything about where I'm going with this
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THE ENHYPEN HOST || 5
|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS
WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes. GENRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers
SUMMARY: You moved to Seoul to start over after a bad experience, and everything seems to be going well, you even manage to work for HYBE. You discover, however, that you owe them almost a billion won, money you don't have and don't know how to recover: but don't worry because Hybe itself offers you a solution.
Your body in exchange for paying off your debt.
Do you accept?
PREVIOUS CHAPTER:
READ THE FIRST CHAPTER:
"Don't you have a nutritional regimen?" I ask, looking around.
Jay crosses his arms over his chest before shaking his head. "We know how many calories to ingest."
"We make spaghetti! She's Italian, she'll be able to cook them well!" Sunoo proposes.
"I don't think we can eat pasta, and we went overboard on carbs yesterday." Puffs Jake worriedly.
"It's not that bad come on…" Sunghoon replies, peeking out from the hallway, perhaps he has just returned.
"What do you say?" Jay asks.
"I mean, we don't have any TV appareances this week, right?" Heeseung adds.
I get it, Sunghoon wants me to cook so he can make fun of me, right? Heeseung too I guess. I can already hear them saying, "she's not even good for cooking."
I wonder how he heard the argument if he wasn't even in the kitchen.
I don't try to hide my annoyance with him, blatantly ignoring him as I check in the various kitchen counters. I don't even give him a sidelong glance.
No matter how unconscionably handsome he is, he called me "prostitute", and I will not easily forget that. He is the only one who cannot save himself even with his pretty face.
"Let's just do it." Heeseung continues.
Sunoo nods, Jungwon laughs nervously. "Are you sure?"
"Let's start eating normally again tomorrow. - Jaeyun says, nodding in turn. - By the way, could you take care of the groceries from now on? Our manager said there won't be the people who took care of these works before, I guess because you are there."
No problem Jake, if you're the one to ask then.
"I'll make you a list." He tells me.
"What would you cook now?" Jungwon then asks.
Actually, there is not much to improvise an italian pasta in this kitchen, and if I have to choose from the most famous dishes on the peninsula, I have to rule out pesto - which I don't know how to make and the one from the korean supermarket isn't good; also my beloved tortellini, I don't think they exist here, so the choice falls to carbonara.
The ingredients are variable and the substitutions easy to find in Korea: for example, if there is no pork cheek I can use pancetta, and instead of pecorino romano you can use the far more consumed and common parmesan cheese.
"Do you even have pasta here?" I sigh, confused. The counters are full of korean stuff, rice, condiments.
Sunoo puts a finger between his lips as he thinks, I pause to look at how beautiful and elegant he looks in person. "Maybe? We had it."
"And where is it?"
"We cooked it the night Heeseung went crazy." Jungwon reminds to the others, visibly embarrassed.
Jake and Sunoo burst out laughing, in completely opposite ways, Sunghoon mumbles amused, Jay just smiles, Niki does not seem amused. New connection? No, to tell the truth, the others say a lot, too.
"Was he going crazy?"
"He gets … irritable sometimes." Jungwon explains.
"Sometimes when? I should know!"
Heeseung chuckles, seeming satisfied to have caught all eyes. "Anyway, should we go buy it?"
"Sure." Jake replies ironically.
"I don't mean everyone, of course."
They're talking about me, I know. "I'll get changed and go."
"Do you have your things in Jay's room?"
"Yes." Jonseong answers for me.
Jake, who actually already knew the answer, twists his lips. "You shouldn't go into other people's rooms during someone else's shift."
How cute, why does he say things like that? Careful Jake, you've awakened a long-hidden part of me.
"It doesn't change anything, does it?" I ask him in a tone a little too smug, to the point that everyone turns to me.
I die a moment realizing that I'm not really in the right situation for answers like that.
I live with seven guys now, let's not forget, whoever they are.

"Instead it changes!" He retorts very belatedly, Jake.
"Instead it doesn't change shit." Jay blurts out, annoyed by the skit.
Heeseung coughs. "So I was saying, let's go shopping?"
"Shut up, the grown-ups are talking." Jay replies.
The oldest of them all (Heeseung) is so surprised that he starts laughing, and actually so am I with him.
"She should keep things in all the rooms." Jaeyun proposes.
Jongseong rubs his forehead unnerved. "What's the point? It's a waste of time."
"I don't even have enough things to distribute them in five rooms." I add, honestly amused.
"You don't have five things?" Sunghoon asks, with a bully grin that erasing my smile.
"That's not the point!" He brings them back to order, Jay.
"Look then the next day she goes to someone else's room, what's the big deal if she does it for a second on your day?" Sunoo then asks, turning to an embarrassed Jake.
"It changes for me."
"Then keep things in Jake's room too, the others don't mind." He fixs everything, the good leader Jungwon, democratically.
"Fine for me." Jake nods.
"Of course is fine for you." Jay comments.
"So, I was saying, shall we go shopping?" Heeseung resumes the conversation.
"Go who?" Asks from the back of the kitchen, Niki, whose voice practically thunders.
"I can go alone."
"Of course you should, isn't because we don't want to accompany you - says Jungwon with ears adorably reddened - but because we would be recognized."
"I disguise myself well." Heeseung explains.
"You can't accompany her on my shift." Jake replies, again with this.
"I said I'm going alone." They ignore me.
"But why, are you jealous?" Heeseung asks him.

Oh no, here we go. What a fucking situation, thank you very much. It's not that I doesn't know, he asked that in a disgusted tone, as if it's something negative - it's also obvious why, and I… get hurt, again, way too much.
But why? What do I care, after all?
It's just that in front of others, who treat me as a human being anyway, I feel ashamed. I feel very ashamed.
"No, I just don't like to share. I can disguise myself too."
Heeseung mumbles in disbelief. "They would recognize you in a second."
"You too!" Jake responds curtly.
"Yah, use honorifics when talking to someone older!"
"The question is - Sunghoon interrupts them - why all this?"
"This is escalating. Go alone." Jay practically commands me, I nod and flit into his room.
With the door closed behind me I feel anxiety pressing in my chest, but what's going on in there? And is Jake sincere? I mean, really? Why is he so possessive? And anyway, isn't this somehow insulting to me? We don't even know each other, in fact it's like I'm an object he wants to appropriate.
The strange thing is that, it is a time service.
I don't like this situation, I don't like these feelings.
But still - as Sunghoon said, why? He can be an asshole Heeseung too, but he wanted to accompany me too, right? I stop mulling it over as I get dressed, rejoin them who have scattered and turn to Jay.
"Keys, please."
"Go with Sunghoon."
"What?" No way, and why is he telling me this?
"He can't stand you, and he's a stubborn guy. Make friends."
"Are you asking me to seduce him?" I improvise comically.
He looks at me ruefully. "No, to make friends. That guy hangs out with Wonyoung, I really don't think he's going to give in - he crosses his arms over his chest, looks thoughtful - but Jake? What have you done with him? Has he asked you to fuck?"
Is he giving me the third degree? What about Heeseung anyway? Why is he interested in me? If he doesn't mention it means he's certainly playing with me, bullying me like Sunghoon, but in a funny way sometimes.
"Jake is peculiar, huh?" I ask amused.
Jay is not in the same mood. "You find? Anyway, don't do it if you don't want to, you did it yesterday. It wouldn't be a problem if you refused."
"I don't think he has those intentions." I say that but I don't know if I mean it.
It seems unlikely to me anyway that he wants to do it right away, maybe he wants a friend to worship him, and in return, he'll give her a chance to sleep with him sometimes? Why is this idea so specific?
This scenario is not bad…
"Okay, that's better."
"But why with Sunghoon? I can go alone, it's not far. It's not even that late."
"Does it bother you that much? Sunghoon, I mean."
"Exactly."
"Make friends with him, in my opinion you have the ability. Show that you are not interested in him, he will trust you in time."
Me? The ability to be friends with Sunghoon? But then why do I have to be one even if I don't like him? He doesn't like me either.
"He called me prostitute."
"He didn't know you yet, though."
But why is Jay's tone so authoritative? It makes my knees shake and not only. I look at him in silence, then lower my gaze like a child who has been scolded.
"If he hurts you or hurts you, I'll take care of it. But try, at least."
"Okay, but Heeseung could still come." I say, and I know I shouldn't, but I'm still curious.
"And why him?"
"He was the one who proposed."
"And you shouldn't care, right? We decide who does what, that's fine, don't make unnecessary problems for yourself."
How cold he became, all of a sudden. Did I make him angry? Why don't I feel guilty?
Okay, I will remain curious. I apologize.
He gives me the keys and a reassuring look, and as I reach the door I find myself slamming my shoulder against Sunghoon's arm. I stagger, but I don't fall. He doesn't even apologize, just glares at me and adjusts the black t-shirt he is wearing.
He is not happy with this choice either; I get the impression that it was some kind of punishment. Not that it's all that much better for me.
However, I can't help noticing how he has changed, that he now wears a tight black t-shirt, a black cap, and a raised mask almost over his eyes. He is handsome, darned if he is, even though only his eyes are visible.
They make so much of his broad shoulders, his height, his simple presence.
"Come on." He says, rudely opening the door for me.
I walk past him with my head held high, who cares.
Let him complain all he wants, I just have to buy the ingredients - still, I can't help but wonder why he gave in to their will, or why they wanted to force him.
"Why didn't you stay home?" I ask him, as we wait for the elevator.
"They have to give you a credit card, so we're paying for now. No one trusts you to leave their card so someone should have come anyway."
"You could have made a transfer if it was necessary. But I have the money for this expense, I didn't need it anyway." I mumbles, entering first.
He snorts as well, looking annoyed. "I don't care what you say, I'm here now, so stop complaining."
"I don't care what you say either, let's be clear." I reply.
When we reach the ground floor, exiting the building where the penthouse is located, I walk toward the nearest supermarket indicated by Mappe but he grabs me by the collar of the long-sleeved cotton t-shirt I'm wearing.
"Where are you going?"
"Let go of me, we have to go this way!" I protest, still being held by the shirt.
He mumbles in disbelief. "What? No, let's go with the car."
I'm not listening to him, I'm reminded of something I didn't ask Jay: why didn't Jake drive me, it being his shift?
Damn, I really don't want to go along with him, my body rejects the idea of getting along with him.
"Why didn't Jake come? It was his shift."
He doesn't leave me; in fact, he starts dragging me by the collar. "Because he's an idiot. The shift thing, absurd…" He shakes his head in disbelief.
"Yes, but leave me."
He doesn't listen to me, just keeps walking, and I'm forced to follow right behind him. "Really, you're not even that beautiful."
"Neither are you, actually."
I reply, but I don't think so at all. I have to lie, I have no weapons against him, practically.
"Bullshit." He sneers.
I snort, he still holds me back. "Seriously, if I had to choose in order who to fuck, you'd be the last."
"Aside from that, I'm sorry to disappoint you but I'll never sleep with you - he says, laughing heartily. - Secondly, if I wanted to sleep with you, I'd only need, to be generous, thirty seconds."
I laugh too, unsure though. "That's what you'd like."
"I don't like you enough to challenge you." He ends the conversation, having reached the parking lot.
He lets go of his grip on my shirt almost throwing me against the car, however, I realize that he was not violent at all in pushing me, on the contrary. I even notice his gaze become surprised when he notices me banging against the car, but I think he is worried about the latter.
"Then stay with the doubt." I reply, before getting into the car.
"Are you trying to use reverse psychology?"
"There are girls who do not desire you. They exist."
"Really? I don't see any."

They all have bigger egos than each other, it's obvious.
"What? Can't you tell when someone doesn't like you? Are you… kind of stupid?" I ask him, as he starts the car.
He chuckles coldly. "We don't have that confidence, stay in your safe zone."
"Then don't insult me. Don't make fun of me. If possible, don't even talk to me. You'll be crossing the line of bearability anyway." I reply, looking fixedly in front of me.
"If you hadn't wanted that, you wouldn't have come here."
"Then I should have asked you for the money for the lawyer, the trial, and the inevitable compensation."
"You should have worked something out with your parents, they would have been able to advise you." He says all calmly, while driving with a relaxed air.
"But what do you know?!" I ask loudly, very loudly.
But how? What's the matter with me? I shouldn't listen to him, annoying me is his goal, and I'm letting him win.
"We don't all have loving families to support us if we want to skate or become idols. - I continue, I'm really fed up with it. - You talk so much because you are rich, does it seem easy to procure a billion won?"
"But what do you know?" He asks, in a much, much colder tone of voice. I have never heard him so serious, I have chills.
"I don't know anything, that's why I don't talk out of turn!"
"You just did."
"You started it! I know you think I'm some kind of crazy person who wants to live the fan dream, but as true as that may be, it's not like I haven't looked for other solutions."
"And you don't care what we think of you in the end?"
"It's obvious, I think about it all the time. - I rant, looking at him. - But let's be honest, is the opinion of some singers I have a crush on more important, or a debt that can potentially lead me to criminal prosecution if I don't pay it back? If you have parents who love you, and protect you, surely you are more comfortable, but I don't have that fortune nor do I have the strength to take on a lawsuit that I will lose regardless."
Sunghoon does not move his gaze even once in my direction; on the contrary, he remains silent for a long time. My words hang in the air, no feedback, no reaction, I am genuinely hurt by him.
I wasn't hoping to touch his heart, but at least to reconcile the situation, explain my motives, show that I am not the opportunist he thinks I am.
However he doesn't care, evidently, he parks as if nothing happened in the parking lot of a large supermarket and then gets out of the car. I stay a few seconds inside, still shaken, even if he doesn't care I have to at least be the one to console myself, to tell me it's all right, or the tears will come out and Sunghoon will have won, again, like the kids that tormented me as a child.
I breathe deeply, swallow, and then get out of the car. I must endure, I must behave. To do so, I have decided that from now on I will ignore him, pretend he doesn't exist.
I just have to find the ingredients.
At this time of the afternoon, on an ordinary weekday , there are not many people. They're all at work, it makes sense, and that's good for Sunghoon, whose six feet is pretty conspicuous anyway, especially in South Korea, where ladies stare and chatter loudly when they see a tall guy.
"What do you need? What do you need to cook?"
I don't care what he says, I proceed toward the relevant departments, and although I see him keeping up with difficulty, I have no intention of backing down. This guy is a soulless monster, that's why his room looks like this.
"Why don't you answer me?"
I take a whole piece of smoked bacon, it's not exactly what I was looking for but it will still do. He watches, perhaps expecting some kind of answer, but I advance to the pasta section, where I desperately look for bucatini. Nothing of the sort, I settle for thick spaghetti.
"Oh, you're bothering me." He says, following me like a little dog.
Yes that's right Sunghoon, that's what you are, a dog.
"Do you feel excited because you're ignoring Sunghoon from Enhypen?" He asks amusedly, whispering.
I just put a couple of bags of parmesan cheese in the basket. I don't care, I won't say anything. To me it's as if he doesn't exist, and it's only after a while that I realize I've taken it a little too personally - what else could I expect in this situation? For him to hug me and comfort me?
Of course, though, not even a word of support, not a blink, like a soulless robot. Just thinking about it makes me angry again.
"It needs.... what else does it need? - I ask myself, under my breath, looking at the basket. - Ah! The eggs!" I exclaim, in italian.
He looks at me strangely and annoyed, not knowing what I said, i'n too angry to rejoice.
"You know what? I don't even know why I'm trying to talk to you. I don't care." He blurts out, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to follow and observe me.
I reach for the eggs, grab some black pepper, at this point I think I have everything. Will the pasta be enough? How much do seven guys eat? In Italy I would say not even two kg would be enough, but considering that these are koreans, idols to boot, maybe a kilo will be enough and more. I'm not that hungry either, to tell you the truth, someone closed my stomach.
I should ask Sunghoon but I won't.
However, I don't even have the number of the others. I have to ask Jay somehow.
I have an idea! I don't want to do it in front of Sunghoon, so I move around a bit taking advantage of a moment when he's distracted to check his phone, pulling out mine and going to the Enhypen's official account, it's the only desperate move I can make.
I write in direct, with my account: how much pasta?
I stay a few seconds waiting, they don't even display, I don't even know if they are running the account. I mean, probably not, however I thought they at least had access - but even so, who knows how many people write to them.
I put my hands in my hair, how annoying. Should I ask him? No, better to get more, at most it won't cook.
I completely lost track of Sunghoon, hopefully he'll leave on his own, I'll pay, I don't care. I can go back to the pasta department, I'll get another packet.
"Looks like you want to make a carbonara." Says a guy, behind me, in english.
I turn around and see him observing in my basket, I narrow my eyes, I think I've already figured out what kind he is, I've met several of them in Korea and they are quite common.
"Yeah - I nod, embarrassed and in a bit of a hurry. The guy in front of me is a nice enough guy, he keeps himself in shape, I can tell from his tight clothes and even though he's not too tall he still makes his figure. - I really have to go now."
"You speak english very well." He tells me quickly, preventing me from truncating the discussion.
I roll my eyes annoyed. "Thank you."
"And you can speak korean, too?"
"Yes."
"Where are you from? I've never seen a girl like you."
There it is, the classic foreign pickup line. There are some guys in South Korea who make it a philosophy of life to bed as many foreigners as possible.
"Look, I'd be in a bit of a hurry." I remind him cordially, taking a short bow.
"Can you at least give me your number? Or instagram?"
I don't physically have the time to think about dating from anyone right now, nor do I have any interest in becoming the next line on his list.
"I'm engaged." I nod.
"Come on, really? We can be friends anyway."
Insistent this guy, it's time to just go.
"No, thanks." I reply, turning around ready to go.
"Yah, how dare you? - He takes it personally, this idiot, grabbing me by the arm, speaking in korean. - Just because I was nice you can't ignore me like that."
If you knew how I'm ignoring Sunghoon from Enhypen you wouldn't be so offended.
"Look, this is not the day. Let go of me." I chill him, with a chilling look.
"I just wanted your fucking contact." He raises his voice, but how dare he? I move my arm forcefully.
Blatant, it's a just as I thought. Since I'm a foreigner, and I'm pretty, he has to convince me at all costs to meet him, it's not even a surprise - it's happened to me before, but I've always rejected overly rough approaches, like this one.
"Are you done fucking? I've been watching you for a while."
I turn around, Sunghoon has appeared behind me. I'm not impressed that he seems to want to defend me; on the contrary, I find it humiliating and don't want his help.
"Are you her boyfriend?" Blurts out the one, who is obviously unnerved by the taller boy's interruption.
"What? - He asks in a disgusted tone. - No."
"Then turn away, you idiot."
"What did you call me?" Sunghoon sneers, approaching the guy, who perceives the height difference much more judging by the way he looks at my roommate.
"I just want his contact."
I see Sunghoon's pupils roll; he's fed up. "And she doesn't want to give it to you, so you're the one who has to turn away, right?"

I know, I know. Sunghoon is an asshole, I know that right now he's only helping me so as not to cause trouble, also because if the guy went too far maybe he would have to intervene and it would be risky in his position, however…
The way he proudly keeps his hands in the pockets of his black pants, the threatening way he looks at this guy, his warm, deep voice, his confidence, it's a little too much for a poor, poor girl like me to handle.
"I'm leaving." I announce, waving goodbye to the stranger and resuming walking, this time toward the speakers.
Sunghoon follows me, the guy doesn't, I guess a little intimidated by him. "But what is it, does everyone like you?"
"I'm too pretty, in fact."
Shit, I forgot the vow of silence, the answer came from my mouth first than from my brain, I didn't have time to reason.
I hear him sneer. "You'd like that. You're talking to me now, huh? Why did I defend you? Are you that dumb?"
Ah, what a nuisance, what a nuisance. I had even avoided him, sowed, but that harassing guy wasted my time and Sunghoon caught up with me.
At the checkouts there is not much of a line, but as I try to get behind an elderly man waiting his turn, Sunghoon grabs me back by the collar of my shirt and makes me change direction.
"Let's go to the checkout machines, dumb."
"We're not close, stop talking to me like that." I reply, starting to pass products over the cash register.
"I'm paying for you, how can we not be close?"
"For that matter - I say - let me pay. When the card is ready I will use your money, or that of someone other than you."
"I'm not paying because I want to do you a favor - he replies, shifting with his hand mine that held the phone next to the pos, using his to pay. - I have to, so don't bother."
We exit the supermarket, look at each other for a split second, then he proceeds to the car. I, holding the bag, look around - I don't know Gangnam, so I don't know my way around, but there are bound to be means of getting back alone.
"What are you doing?" He asks, noticing that I haven't followed him.
"I'm going home alone, I don't want to go with you."
"Do you know how?"
I mumble annoyed. "Yes."
"It doesn't seem real. Anyway, we don't have to talk - he huffs, reaching over to take the grocery bag from my hands. - Besides, they'd bust my balls if I came back alone, I'd have to wait for you to come back with the means. Let's just go."
He says that, but I don't move.
He's not my friend, we don't even know each other, but then why am I so deeply offended? I should just put on a good face, pretend that I don't care, that he hasn't hurt me, but I just can't.
"Yah, are you listening to me?" He starts to get nervous.
"You called me prostitute, you kept teasing me, humiliating me in front of others, you criticized me not knowing me, not knowing anything about me. When I tried to explain how I felt, you didn't bat an eye, I don't want to spend a second with you."
"Would you rather be treated as an object? Like Jake and Jay do? I act the way I am, don't you realize that the only one who respects you is me?"
Huh? What…. say all of a sudden? And why does it hurt? No, they-they don't? They treat me like a human being, don't they? Or do they? And then - he, respect me? I don't think so, on the contrary I think he attacks me just for fun.
"I'm still at your service, no? In order for this period to end quickly and without any side effects, I just have to make sure that I don't make trouble, and that's what I'm going to do. Honestly, I too have feelings, I too am sensitive, I too get hurt-"
"Do you want me to apologize?" He interrupts me, serious.
I don't know what to say at the moment, then I tighten my lips angrily. "No, I have no use for your fake apology. I'm just asking you to treat me normally and I won't bother you, I'll strive to never be a problem for you."
"Did you feel so bad about the thing in the car? - He sighs, as if tired of my unnecessary trouble, as we get to his expensive car again. I don't know why, but I can't answer truthfully, he turns to me. - Is that so? Did you expect…"
"I didn't expect anything. I don't want anything from you."
"Then why are you so angry?"
I don't fucking know, Sunghoon!
"Let's stop talking about it, I don't care anymore."
He sneers again. "Do you want it to be okay between us?"
"What?" I ask, sitting back in the passenger seat as he rests the grocery bag between my ankles and I for a second, not breathing, he's honestly too close to my legs as he sorts things out.
"Then be good."
"Be good how?"
"Are there other ways to play nice in a situation like this?"
Huh? Are you asking me not to indulge or something? It still doesn't make sense, if we assume that I disgust him, however, it might make sense as far as the balance of the band is concerned.
I don't feel like a threat frankly, I just see males being males and therefore wanting to get laid.
"I really don't care that it's good between us." Is my answer.
As he drives off in the car, a warning light starts to go flashes, it sounds like the seat belt light but we both have it, so I see him looking at me confused. I move a millimeter to check that mine is attached properly, but surprise, this one being unfastened abruptly returns to its place, hitting me with the metal part on my face.
"Fuck!" I shout in italian, holding my sore nose.
He bursts out laughing, has a… he has a beautiful laugh. "You dumb, tie her up good."
"Don't call me dumb, I said!" I groan, still with bandaged nose, still sore.
"Did you hurt yourself?"
Huh?
Shit, I don't answer. I have like a thud in my heart.
"No, you can leave." I say, lacing it up properly.
"So you don't care if it goes well with us."
"If it goes well with you, it might go badly with everyone else - I say, not understanding why the pain doesn't go away, it's strong, it burns me so bad. - However, your CEO has been clear on the issue, it's not like I can just refuse."
"He is not our CEO." He explains, as he turns left.
I look at him, am i... sad?
Recently, Enhypen have, in fact, been integrated by Hybe, despite being Belift before, a sort of branch of the former. I have no idea how this was received by the boys, but judging from Sunghoon's reaction, he not exactly well.
"Why are you still holding your nose?" He asks me after a while, never returning to the old argument.
I don't want to admit that it still hurts, so I take my hand away and don't answer.
I see him, turning to me briefly and then looking back at the road. "You're bleeding."
"What?!" I practically scream, lowering the sunshade to check in the mirror: I have a line of blood about to reach my lips.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon has surprisingly pulled over. "Wait, don't touch." It's not advice so much as an order.
"Why did you pull over? It's nothing, he's passing by."
"You're dirtying my car." He reminds me.
Idiot! Idiot! Do you think he cares about you, someone like him?
As he opens the glove compartment in front of my legs, his uncovered arm grazes my thigh covered by too-thin pants evidently, as I perceive this contact as incredibly intense.
I shudder; I have to pull myself together.
He has a small purse inside, pulls out a pack of tissues and hands them to me. "Come on, clean yourself up and I'll go again." What an arrogant tone, as if he were the injured party.
I do as he tells me, use a handkerchief to wipe myself by looking in the mirror, when I finish I close the sunshade. "Okay, let's go."
I tell him, but he is still looking at me.
"More is coming out, maybe I should take you to the hospital?"
"What are you talking about?"
"What if you die in the car?"
"Then it gets dirty, right?"
"No, then I get arrested."

Man, I feel like laughing but I don't want to, with every fiber of my being I definitely don't want to laugh.
I see him take another handkerchief after taking the package out of my hands, roll it up creating a small tip. Then, suddenly, in a totally uncalculated way, he approaches me and, first wipes away my other blood, then uses the same handkerchief to close my nostril.
He has a delicate touch, actually. His focused eyes are quite beautiful. Her breathing, calm and regular, is easier to listen to at this distance, and it is really pleasant. The one not breathing evenly is me, having him so close.
I like the way he touches me, I like the way he dabs the blood gently.
"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"
Well, to be honest, I don't feel anything now. The only burning is the one that's enveloping my whole body and it's his fault.
"Yes." I answer coldly.
He doesn't even look at me as he stows his purse, closes the dashboard, touching my thigh with his elbow again, and then gets back behind the wheel. "Okay, let's go."
Throughout the trip we don't talk about anything, we don't even call each other names - I don't know if I've been able to accomplish the quest Jay has given me, I haven't even tried really, though, it's definitely different in our relationship now.
Not necessarily for the better.
When we get back to the penthouse, Jake opens the door for us, in a second, as if anxiously waiting. He looks at me, I try to do the same but lower my gaze because I'm still a little uncomfortable with his disarming beauty.
"What did you do to her, you bastard!" Jaeyun asks, grabbing him by the shirt.
"Are you idiot?"
"What happened?" Jay asks, arriving slightly late at the door. Noticing the damage to my nose, he glares at Sunghoon.
"Really? - Rant the suspect. - I didn't do it."
"But what happened?"
"His car hates me." I reply, under my breath, passing them and entering with the grocery bag.

NEXT CHAPTER:
#enha smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen smut#enhypen#kpop smut#enha sunghoon#sunghoon#ff sunghoon#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen heeseung#enhypen niki
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