#there's two normal people and suddenly his Aura makes them start talking about weird shit

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

Leon:”Live:How to do anal from the starting point, make 10k”.

William:Hey, we’re all men here. We’re all friends. I can say this without any judgement, right?

Nathapon:Relax, no one’s going to judge you.

Leon:Okay, say it.

William:I’d do it for ten thousand.

Leon:Nine thousand, come on.

William:Are you trying to negociate my ass???

Nathapon:I thought he was offering his.

William:Would you do it, Leon? For ten thousand?

Leon:I’d do it for less. You know, eight thousand...

William:Eight dollars...

[antiherocorner]

Niki Lauda - The White Wolf

A Werewolf! Niki Lauda x Reader fic (18+)

Headcanons: 

So... This is my first AU ever... And also this is my first smut... Kind of... Thing... Ever... Sex scene, let's go with that... I was debating to post it in smaller parts, or a bigger one. I decided the second one might be better.

This is a mess, and a random idea... This could be a psychedelic trip, while you're watching fucking Twilight... Yes, I am familiar with the Twilight Saga... No, I wasn't Team Jacob... No, I didn't intend to base this on that... But it might has some similar stuff (no vampires)... Small stuff... All of them were unintentional, really.... Well... 1 or 2 things weren't, but most of them.

English is still not my native language, apologies for the grammatical mistakes, I tried.

Taglist: @rumblelibrary (you are my first tag in a fic written by me aaaaaaa🥺❤️🔥)

Summary: Your car broke down while you're on a road trip, on your own. You need someone to fix it. There's a small town. What could possibly happen?...

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don't do it kids), swearing, possibly smoking, drinking, mention of scar (nothing big or serious), google translated German, bad dog jokes, puns, and no, i didn't make a "real" wolf fuck the Reader, i'm not that kinky, i imagined the Reader to be female, but can be gender neutral, no name, or age mentioned, no use of y/n either... That's it?... Idunno, still new to this

(collage made by me, i don't own the pictures, i just used them, it's also very amateur, I haven't done a collage in ages)

🐺🤍❤️

You were in your car ‘till your waist. The damn thing broke down half way into your road trip. You have had enough of your monotonous everyday life, so you decided to pack up the essential stuff of yours, get your car together, and head out into the unknown. You have already seen beautiful mountains from a distance, gone through deep, mysterious forests, taken many pictures. You have tried to live in your car, but occasionally you have stayed in some cheap, low budget motels for 1 or 2 nights. You always had trust in your car, yet there you were. It didn’t run out of gas, it just suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, just outside of a small town. It looked rather friendly, and not busy at all. There wasn’t any other car passing by, so you did what you thought was the best decision: packed your bag, locked the car, and started walking into the town, praying to find someone, anyone really, who can maybe lend a helping hand.

The people you saw were really kind, it seemed they didn’t really get too many outsiders in their small town, and they seemed happy for you. They told you that there was one car mechanic in the town, a little group of guys. They also told you about a motel, which was always open for travellers, and due to the lack of them, it was basically empty. You decided to go to the motel first. The receptionist was a friendly old lady, who, again, got very excited to finally have someone at her place. You got your room, for a very small price, went in and unpacked some of your stuff. You really wanted to know what was up with your car, or if it could be fixed at all, so you didn’t waste much time in your new temporary place. After a few minutes you headed out to the streets, to the direction where you were told before to find the mechanics.

It was one of those warm days, so you were glad you found what you were looking for. You heard music coming out of an open garage. Above the doors you read “The Rat's Den”.

- Hello?... - you popped your head in the garage.

- Can I help you with something? - a tall, blonde haired man, with broad shoulders approached you. He had a cheeky smile on his face, sweat under his long locks. Oh, and shirtless.

- I uhm.. My car broke down just down the main road - you gestured with your hand where your car was - And I was just wondering if you could help me with it… I don’t know what could be the problem, I have been traveling with it for the past few days, weeks, everything was fine up until now. I just can’t get it to work.

- Sure, we can take a look at that thing - you turned your head to the direction from where another voice caught your attention. Another man just slipped out from under a car. He had curly hair, slimmer body than the blonde one, but still tall. You looked him in the eye as he came over. His eyes were like a river of caramel pudding, and they were glowing like a forest fire in the middle of the night. Your mouth watered.

- Thank.. You… - you said shyly. What’s happening? You normally aren't this shy… - When can you do that?

- Are you staying in that old motel? - asked the curly one.

- Yes.

- Alright. Is that good, if I go there around 7 am tomorrow, so I can take a look at it before I open the garage?

- Y-yeah… sure.

- It’s a date then. I’m Niki Lauda, by the way, that’s James Hunt. - he gestured towards the blonde one, James. You didn’t even notice him leaving you two. You told him your name.

- It was nice meeting you. I’ll be there at 7.

- Okay. See you then. And thank you.

- It’s no problem.

And with that you headed out of the garage. You turned back before you completely went outside. You saw a tattoo on James' right shoulder. You didn’t see every detail, but you felt a strange feeling. Unconsciously your eyes wandered to Niki. He was wearing a white shirt, but you could still see a glimpse of something similar, at least as you guessed, just under his neck. Strange.

You went back to the motel. You couldn’t go to sleep during the night so easily. You had a weird feeling about The Rat’s Den. Some kind of an aura was around it. It looked like any other garages where they repair cars and that’s it, but not there. There was something. You couldn’t really describe what you were feeling, or grasp what you should even be looking for. Something was up, you were sure about that.

🐺🤍❤️

After a few hours of sleep, you woke up. Niki could be here any minute now. You freshened up a little bit, you felt like shit due to the lack of sleep. Suddenly, you heard a loud car noise. You were the only one there at the motel, you guessed that was Niki. Honk. Yes, most definitely. You opened the door for an old, shiney Ferrari, with Niki sitting at the front.

- You’re coming or no, Schatzi?

You blushed by the petname, but quickly composed yourself, locked your room’s door, and jumped into the passenger seat. The man asked you about where you left your car. You answered and he drove to the correct directions. The short journey was mostly silent, with small talks. You stared out of the window, so you missed the spectating eyes of his.

- You’re good? You look exhausted…

- I’m okay, I just haven’t slept much. - you turned to him.

- Well, that makes the two of us.

You looked at him with curious eyes, but he remained silent, eyes focused on the road. You couldn’t read him, but tried to observe his features. He was pale, especially his knuckles as he was basically suffocating that poor wheel. He was taking deep and slow breaths. He looked like he was having a hard time in his own car.

- Is that your car? - Niki snapped you out of your thoughts.

- Yes, yes, that’s it.

Niki stopped his car in front of yours. You got out, and walked to it. He asked for your keys, so he could open the hood of the car. You took them out of your packet, then placed them in his open palm. Fingers briefly touched. He was warm. Surprisingly warm. For a moment you thought you heard him sharply inhale, but he quickly busied himself with your car. He has a nice butt. You immediately scolded yourself and turned your back to him, leaning on the side of the car, while he was working. After a few minutes, awkward silence, and some rattling, he straightened himself and turned to you.

- The engine gave up. Although it’s nothing serious or expensive, it will take some day to fix it properly, so it won’t die again. - so I stuck here yey - How long will you stay?

- As long as I don’t have a car I guess… - you massaged your nose, the lack of sleep started to catch up - I took it to a mechanic before I left… That’s just great…

- Well, that asshole did a shit job… It’s obvious what’s wrong, and it didn’t happen overnight. - he shrugged and closed the hood - I can’t take it back to the garage now, but during the afternoon I will come back for it with a more usable car.

- Sounds like a plan - you nodded and extended your arm to take your keys back.

Your fingers brushed against his, again, but this time the contact shot electricity up in your arm, which caused you to drop the keys. You instantly crouched after it, but what you grabbed weren’t your keys. It was a hand. Niki’s hand. How does he have these quick reflexes? You looked up, still holding his hand, and just realized that your faces were just a few centimeters away from each other. Both of you froze. Niki even seemed like he wasn’t breathing. His eyes were on yours, before he looked down to your lips. You licked them unconsciously. He purred. What?

- We should get back to the town.

He jumped up, leaving your keys on the ground. You tried to get yourself together, picked up your keys and sat back into his car. The way back to the garage was in complete silence. He didn’t purr, did he? He just breathed weirdly… I am imagining stuff… Right? You were confused.

🐺🤍❤️

Not much happened during the rest of the day. You tried to look around the little place, bought some food and just relaxed in your room. When the sun started to settle down you realized that you didn’t give your car keys back to Niki. You left each other in such a hurry, after he took you back to his garage, none of you had it in mind. You couldn’t call him, you didn’t have his number, and you didn’t really want to walk there. Throughout the whole day you had a strange feeling. Something was definitely up. You just felt it in your guts. Niki was like any other man and yet, he had an aura that just gave off some vibes which you just couldn’t grasp, no matter how hard you tried. You were pacing in your room when you looked out of your window. A red Ferrari just stopped in front of the motel. What, is he a mind reader too? You opened your door, spinning your keys in the air with your right hand.

- Catch! - you shouted, throwing them at his back, but before it could hit him, he turned around and caught them in his left hand with incredible accuracy.

You weren't expecting that. He didn’t say anything, just smirked and winked at you, as you locked eyes. You blushed deeply, and he disappeared just as quickly as he came by.

🐺🤍❤️

During the evening, you couldn’t rest. Again. This time you decided to go for a little walk. You weren’t really paying attention to where you were going. You just wandered around the quiet, calm town. It seemed like everyone was fast asleep. Not a single person, not a single soul was up. You arrived at a little dirt road which was leading you to a forest, next to your temporary home. You didn’t know why, you followed it. You got to a little field which was shielded with huge trees from the outside world. Some rays of sunshine were still peeking through the bushes, giving it an angelic look. Little red flowers covered your newly found small area. It felt like you were in a fairytale. But you weren’t. You heard a branch break behind you. You turned on your heels, just in time to see a huge, black wolf coming out from the bushes. It looked unusual, there was something in its face, in its eyes that was off. Human? It had a human kind of amused face expression. In the middle of your observation you just realized it was coming close. You panicked. Just when you thought it was going to rip you apart, another one jumped between the two of you, from behind you. This one was white, and slightly bigger. It growled at its own kind, like it was telling him to fuck off. The black wolf looked at you one last time and took off into the trees. The remaining animal calmed down, before it turned to you. It looked majestic. There was something royal in its posture. Around its neck and on his chest it had little patches of curly fur, like a mane. It had a cut on its lip, probably just had a fight, maybe with its prey. It looked deep into your eyes, like it was staring into your soul. There was something familiar in those eyes. The eyes were glowing, and like a river of caramel. Wait. You took a step forward and it instantly disappeared into the shadows. You really did needed to sleep.

🐺🤍❤️

You jolted up in your bed. You were covered in sweat, hair was messy. You massaged your face while you were trying to catch your breath, even your breathing. You looked at the clock. 1:30am. You managed to sleep for about an hour, before the nightmare woke you up. You saw the wolves again. They were circling you. The black one jumped forward and tackled you to the ground. Your sight got blurry, but you could still make out the silhouette of the white one. It changed into a man. It had curly hair. You felt like someone or something was watching you. You walked to the window, and pushed the curtain aside. You saw a wolf, watching you from the otherside of the road. A white wolf. That wolf. You immediately turned around, hands were burying in your hair. What the hell is going on? Am I going crazy? What is this place? A knock on the door caused you to jump. With shake legs and hands, you went to the door and opened it. Niki was leaning on the door jamb, with his left hand.

- What an earth are you… - you started with a confused look but it quickly changed into a shock, your eyes got wide when you looked at his lips. He had a fresh scar there. - There’s no way…

- I can’t do this anymore. You drive me crazy. - he looked at you with a beast-like expression on his face.

- What do y- - you couldn’t finish your question.

Niki technically broke into your room, then kicked the door closed. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he was on the edge of completely losing control over himself. He took a step towards you. You didn’t step back. You couldn’t. That animal look on him made your legs weak, your mouth dry. The lust in his eye made you want him. You licked your lips. That was the last straw for him. The next thing you knew you were thrown against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a hungry wolf. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he didn’t plan to go easy and kind on you either. He hooked his hands under your knees, picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and thighs.

- Your smell is intoxicating to me. I still don’t know how did I manage to not to rip your clothes off and fuck you on the hood of your car, when there were just the two of us, alone. - he confessed into your ear, and that made you feel all kinds of incoherent thoughts.

You wanted to answer, but when he sucked on your collarbone, the only thing that came out of your mouth was a moan, which could have been heard in Hell as well. He growled in response, grabbed your shirt on the back, and tore it in half with such ease, letting it fall to the carpet. He took you away from the wall, then placed your back on your bed. He sit up, just to took of his shirt. He placed himself between your legs, arms next to your head to keep himself from crushing you. He looked you deep in the eye. The warm that radiated from him was unbearable. It made your stomach turn in itself. He leaned in to capture your lips, but he stopped just millimeters away from you. There was a silent question in the air. He got his answer when you closed your eyes. When your lips met, you felt like you jumped to another dimension. He tasted like a mixture of cigarette and beer. Your hands found their ways into his curls. His breath stuttered for a second, before letting out a purring sound into your lips and mouth. He liked that. No. He loved that. His left hand wandered down between the two of you, to pull your pants down. You let him. Then it was your turn to free him from his pants. He let you. He was bigger than you would have imagined, and thick. And also hard like a rock. You gently grabbed him to pump him a little bit, but he didn’t let you have your fun for too long. He needed you badly. He wanted to bury himself in you. He pulled your hand away from him, and just as you were to pull your legs up for him to get a better angle, he tightened his grip on your arm a little bit, and turned you around like he just picked up a feather. You got confused for a second but when you felt him at your entrance you put the puzzle together. Oh. He is half wolf after all. And without a second word he trusted his hips toward and filled you up. You pressed your face into your blanket to suppress some of your cry.

- I’m sorry, but you really bring the animal out of me... Meine schöne Beute...- was all he whispered, but waited for a little bit for you, to get used to him, before he started moving.

From slow and sensual trusts, you quickly arrived to needy and shameless fucking. His occasional growles got mixed with your load moans. Niki kept biting your neck and shoulders, and you couldn’t do anything, rather just take it. Not that you had any coherent thoughts about doing anything in that position. As both of you were coming closer to reaching your desires, Niki’s hands found their ways to the back of your own ones, interlocked your fingers, and raised both his and your arms above your heads on the bed. You saw the finish line, but before you could register the checkered flag, your pleasure hit you like a racecar. The man behind you finished the race as a close second. He stayed inside you until he got soft, then collapsed on the bed beside you. After you stopped seeing stars, you looked at him. He was already looking at you with his big caramel eyes. You felt this urge to cuddle him, you were already missing his warmth, although he wasn’t that far from you. He looked like he sensed your thoughts, because he opened one of his arms, invitingly. You quickly snuggled to his side, head on his chest. He was drawing circles on your back with the hand that was behind you. You reached up to the back of his neck, and started to slowly massaging the hair on it. He instantly started purring.

- I love this sound… - you slightly chuckled.

- I can get used to this… - he smiled.

- So am I... - the broken car was long forgotten.

Both of you drifted off to sleep like this, in the arms of each other. The last thing you heard was Niki’s heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. Honk.

You shot your eyes open. You were in your car. In a parking lot. You sit up, confused, trying to solve your thoughts. You were tired, so you stopped to sleep a little bit in your car, before you reached your next destination. Was this all a dream? You climbed over to the driver’s seat. Started the car. Looked in the mirror on your right, on your left, then on the middle one. You saw a little purple spot under your shirt, around your neck. You pulled the shirt aside. A hickey on your collarbone.

🐺🤍❤️

The End?...

[tetsurouskuro]

Jealousy

pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader 

warnings: a bit of angst?, fluff, smut, sensory sex, blindfold, fingering, squirting, slight bondage

word count: 3,614

tag list: @myherowritings @iwaqchan (message me if you want to be added)

a/n: i just wanted some nice boyfriend oikawa but still keep it smutty! i wrote this in like a day and i hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated <3

Synopsis: You get angsty and jealous when Tooru can’t spend time with you and keeps on talking to other girls in his class. He then decides to show you how much he loves you by letting you feel his love...

MASTERLIST!

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪ 

Boys at both school and outside of it had always ignored you, just like you ignored them. You minded your own business, and so did they.

Until you started high school. It was all fine and dandy in the beginning, but suddenly you started getting attention from boys. At first you thought it was only temporary as you did not pay them any attention and, in your head, it was simply because you started to become a woman and develop breast.

It was in the beginning of your second year of high school when a particular brown-haired boy started paying attention to you. Flirting and giving you compliments (which made you blush) but you also knew he was a player. A womanizer, or that is what the rumors said at least.

You tried to ignore him as he had girls follow him everywhere he went, like a pack of horny lionesses waiting to jump on their king. But he didn’t pay them as much attention as he did with you. He was stubborn to get you and after what felt like you had declined him for the hundred time you finally agreed on one date, just one.

But one soon turned into two and two turned into three and suddenly you were dating. You and the most popular guy in school: Oikawa Tooru.

Since he had a reputation you took it slow and he did not complain. He was willing to do anything for you and for that you were grateful. He opened up to you and talked about everything that went on in that pretty mind of his and you learned quickly that he was very dedicated to his sport and that he was skillful at it.

Soon enough you appeared at every game he had, cheering on him and his teammates. You loved how cocky he looked and was when he played. He had an aura surrounding him with both talent and leadership.

Just when you were about to go on summer vacation, he was chosen to be the next captain and he was both honored and happy, not surprised. He knew it was coming. The both of you having almost been together for a year you decided to gift him yourself. Having him being your first and it was worth the wait, for the both of you.

Soon summer was over, and you were back to school once again. This year he was going to be super busy with practice, more than before. He loved you, of course he did you were the love of his life now, but he also loved volleyball.

“When can I see you?” you had asked on the phone, late one evening.

“I don’t know. I have practice again tomorrow and then I need to study for a test.��

“Yes, of course. Volleyball and school come first.” You tried to sound happy on the phone while speaking, but in reality, you were hurting, and you felt silly because he had a life beside you.

“I miss you though. Never forget that.”

“I won’t, and I miss you too Tooru.”

“Fuck. I want talk more, but I need to go. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back just as he hangs up the phone. You fist your shirt in your hands, both angry and hurt at that you cannot spend as much time with him as you want. At least you get to eat lunch with him in school.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪ 

The next day you arrive at school just in time before class begins. You were never late, always in time for class but since you were feeling down, sleeping was harder than staying awake.

You basically sprint to your homeroom and are just about to walk in when in the distance you spot Tooru, talking to a girl. Way too close for your liking and you feel your heart crack a little.

You trust Tooru, but since you both started third year it has been rough for you and sometimes your mind wanders and you think that maybe it’s better if you weren’t together so he could focus on volleyball without disappointing you and you having to feel disappointed.

You stand still and watch them. He is smiling towards her and that breaks your heart. A sharp pain stabs you in the chest and you can feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you would not cry. Not over a man. You take a deep breath and grab the door handle and walk in.

Tooru sees from the corner of his eyes your figure and now his heart races. This might have looked suspicious to other people and if you saw this, he was worried what you might think.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪ 

Lunch break came fast, but you decided to skip lunch. You did not want to see Tooru and you hoped to god that he did not come and look for you.

“(y/n)?” his voiced echoed in the hallway.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself and searched for a place to hide. Seeing the girl’s bathroom, you rushed through the door.

Is it normal to hide from your boyfriend?

The sound of you getting a text message got your attention. Pulling up your phone you see that it’s from Tooru. Of course.

Oikawa Tooru: Hi, where are you? I’m hungry :(

You: I’m not feeling well, sorry. I’ll make it up to you <3

Oikawa Tooru: Is there something I can do? Maybe a massage or some kisses? ;)

You: No, thank you.

You feel the vibration of another text but ignore it. You stay in the bathroom for a while and can feel yourself getting more anxious. What if Tooru does not love you? What if he has fallen for someone else, or worse. What if he has cheated but does not want to confess?

You shake your head of those thoughts that erupted. He loved you and he would never do that.

Taking a deep breath, you look yourself in the mirror and fix your hair and then exit the bathroom. You start walking towards your homeroom, turning the corner you bump into a hard chest and fall on the floor. You land on your butt and when you raise your head to see who you collided with you see that it is Iwaizumi Hajime, Tooru’s best friend.

“You okay, (y/n)-san?” He asks and holds out his hand towards you. Taking it, he helps you up and you brush off the dirt that is stuck on your skirt.

“Yes, thank you Iwa-chan.”

“No worries. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m good. Why?”

“Shittykawa told me you were ill.”

“Oh. I’m feeling much better,” you laugh and scratch the back of your head. “Oh, look at the time. Lesson starts soon, see you Iwa-chan.” You basically run from him and to your homeroom.

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪ 

You sigh and close your locker, leaning your forehead on it with your eyes closed. How are you going to act next time you speak with Tooru? He was just talking to a girl from his class, there is nothing weird with that. You speak to boys from your class, not very often but it happens.

Pulling yourself together you pull away from your locker and head towards the school entrance not expecting to see or meet anyone on your way home. Tooru was at practice so you were definitely not going to see him.

Except that is who you see when you exit the building. He’s not alone, he is smiling, laughing and talking to not one, not two but three girls. You didn’t recognize any of them, so you knew they were either girls from first or second year.

Standing still you watch him interact with them, he doesn’t do anything wrong but that doesn’t help with your emotions.

You see Tooru turn his head and spot you and you instantly get nervous and start to leave, heading home and you’re quick with your steps, not wanting him to catch up to you (which is stupid since he’s way faster than you).

“S’cuse me,” you hear him say and then the sound of his footsteps. “Babe. Wait up.”

You quicken your steps further, soon you’ll be running.

“Babe,” his voice speaks loudly as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him. “Stop. Why are you running from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I can’t think of a reason…”

“Are you… jealous?” He snickers. Turning your head sideways you don’t want to look at him.

“N-No…”

“But you are. That’s so cute.”

“I-I am not. Brush that stupid grin off your face,” you pout and pull back your arm that he still had a tight grip on.

“Aw babe, don’t be jealous, I only love you and you know it.”

“Do I though? Because to me it looked like you enjoyed that conversation. You should rejoin them and go have some fun. Maybe you can get their numbers and start hanging out with them. Or maybe-“

“(y/n)!”

“-Maybe you can fuck them instead of me!”

“That’s enough! What’s up with you?”

Tears starts to fall down your face as you softly ask him “do you love me?”

“What?”

“I said, do you love me?” he raises his hand to cup one side of your face, brushing away the tears that have fallen, his other hand cups your other side. The tilts your head upwards so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His brown eyes filled with nothing but love for you.

“Of course, I love you, baka.” He places a soft tender kiss on your lips. “I love you so much.”

You keep quiet, not knowing how to respond. A feeling of embarrassment starts to erupt, and you try to look away, a slight blush creeping up from your cheeks and down to your neck.

“What made you doubt my love?” His question comes out of the blue and takes you by surprise.

“We have not seen each other in a long time. You have been practicing and studying for a long time now and when I saw you with that girl earlier it made me question your love for me,” you confess straight out and your cheeks goes from pink to red.

“Is that so.” It is quiet for a minute and you have no idea if you should interrupt the silence or stay quiet but Tooru’s faster and cups your face with his palms and pulls you in for a rough kiss. “Come with me.”

≫ —– ≪·•♕•·≫ —– ≪ 

Tooru had basically dragged you home with him. You had trailed behind and asked where he was taking you and what about his practice.

“I took the night off since you were not feeling well,” he had responded and continued to drag you along with him.

Now you were stood in his hallway, the house empty and quiet as the booth of you took off your shoes. He turns to face you and grabs your bag with one hand and intertwines his fingers with your other while pulling you with him and towards his bedroom.

Once inside, he closes the door and throws both of your bags on the floor and turns around to face you.

“Now that we are finally here. Take of your clothes and get on the bed.”

“W-What?”

“You heard. Or do you need help?” he moves towards you and you back away until you feel a wall meet your back. You swallow and start to pant. When did you get so flustered?

Tooru is now in front of you, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. They start to travel down until they are at the hem of your skirt. His index finger moves so it is on the inside of your thigh and move upwards and to your core. He flicks his finger on your clit through your panties and you let out a soft moan, closing your eyes.

“Seems like someone is a little excited,” he smirks, and you know now that you cannot say no to him.

“What are you planning?”

“It’s a secret,” he winks. “Now listen to me and please tale off your clothes and get on the bed. You’re going to love it.”

You take him for his words and start to undress. Once you are completely naked you turn and head towards his bed, climbing up seductively so he can watch your fabulous ass being almost bent over for him.

“That ass of yours is dangerous babe,” he speaks, almost naked himself. Once he is all bear he walks towards where you have laid down and hovers over you. “Do you trust me?”

“Now you’re scaring me,” you nervously laugh.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer me.”

“Yes. Of course, I do.”

“Great,” a swift kiss on your lips and he is gone but returns quickly, carrying some things in his hands. Making you quirk up one of your eyebrows.

“What are you-“

“Shh. You said you trusted me.”

“Yes, but-“

“No buts. Now, arms above your head.”

“Wha-“

“(y/n)! Just do as I say for once.” Muttering some curse words, you place both of your arms above your head and he straddles on your hips, tying your arms together with his red school tie. “Fucking perfect,” he winks.

He then picks up a blindfold, making you quirk up your eyebrow.

“We’ve been together for over a year now and when you got jealous, it made me feel a bit of a pride in myself. But also hurt that you don’t trust me around other girls. Yes, I did have a reputation of a player, but I would never ever cheat on you.”

Silence is filled in the air and it makes you feel guilty over your actions and how you reacted to seeing him with those girls. How stupid can I be?

“So,” he pulls the blindfold over your head, seeing nothing but black as he places it over your eyes. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

“How is this showing me exactly? I can’t see shit.” A heartfelt laugh escapes his lips and his hands rubs your cheek.

“You are going to feel it, babe.” He plugs a pair of earphones into your ears, a soft erotic melody starts to play and all you can hear is the song playing. You can feel him leave the bed and not a single sound can be heard except the music.

You jump when you feel something soft and ticklish on your chest. You soon relax when it starts to move up and down your torso, soon realizing it’s a feather Tooru is using.

The feather moves to your right breast and starts to pay attention to your hardening nipple, then to your other. Once he has payed them a little attention he moves downward and starts to slowly move it up and down your inner thighs, making you squirm on the bed, letting a small moan escape your lips.

You’re moaning, panting and huffing. Wanting more. He is taking his time with riling you up, building up a pressure of wanting more, and wanting to cum. You’re a wriggling mess.

The feather disappears and you are holding your breath, waiting for it to appear somewhere else. But instead you feel the bed sink and then his mouth leaving kisses on your shin and traveling up. You let out the breath that you were holding just as he reaches your pelvis and start to do the same to your other side.

A loud moan escapes your mouth when his tongue touches your clit, flicking on it and making you writhe and be a complete mess.

He places his palms on each side of your inner thigh and spreads them wide, his breath hitting your most private parts.

“Fuck Tooru,” you sigh, and he responds by licking up and down your slit, sucking up all your wetness that has formed and leakad out of your cunt. He cleans you up with his mouth and starts sucking on your clit, his lips around your swollen bud. Your back arches and you try to pull your hands away but are stopped by the tie holding them together.

Still sucking on your clit, Tooru pushes his index finger inside of you and your walls clamp around it. Feeling you pulsing around his finger and he knew you wanted more, so he listened and pushed one more finger inside, his index and middle finger thrusting slowly in and out of you while his lips sucks on your clit. You feel him arch both of his fingertips, them hitting your g-spot effectively and without no further do, you cum all over his fingers.

“TOORU!” you scream while throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your back arching. Your body shaking from orgasming hard, his fingers keep thrusting in and out of you. The tip of his tongue flicking up and down your clit while you come undone, wanting to push him away from the sensation but also wanting more.

Tooru watches you, his eyes fixated on your breasts that keep wiggling from your movements. Your hard nipples wanting some of his attention. He lifts his left hand and with his index and thumb rolls your right nipple between them, pinching them slightly.

“T-Tooru, I- Shit. Oh god,” you pant and writhe, wanting his cock inside you but you know that he won’t give it to you until you have at least cum one more time.

Tooru’s fingers get rougher and starts pounding into your wet cunt faster and harder and the pressure in your lower abdomen starts to increase. You’re close once again and you both hate and love it how he knows your body so well.

He knows what to do and when to do it. His fingers are like magic to you, he takes you to places you’ve never been before, and his cocky ass knows it.

His tongue leaves your clit, as does his left hand on your nipple. Places his hand on your lower abdomen, right above your uterus and puts some pressure on it. His fingers fucking your cunt, hard, fast and aggressive and you know exactly what he’s trying to do.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Tooru, I’m- I’m gonna cum. Fuuuuuck,” and you do. You cum again. Your legs trembling as a warm liquid releases from you and onto the bed, your back arched so much you feel like it might snap. Your mouth open but no sound coming out from it.

A pool of wetness can be felt when you come down from your high, and you’re embarrassed, but not for long as you feel Tooru push his cock roughly inside you. The earphones are thrown away and instead of hearing music you hear a squelching, wet sound echoing.

Tooru places his palms on the back of your thighs, pushing them towards your chest so that the front is touching your torso. Your ass is being slightly lifted in the air as Tooru’s weight is pushing down on the back of your thighs, his hips slapping against your ass.

“Shit babe, you’re so wet. Fuck,” Tooru moans as his thrusts keep hitting deep inside of you, the tip of his cock gracing your g-spot.

“Tooru. Babe- I- Shit I’m about to cum again.”

“Yes baby, cum. Cum all over my cock (y/n),” the pressure returning yet again, and you release all over his thick cock, your walls pulsing around him. Tooru quicken his pace and you know he is close.

“Cum, Tooru. Please cum inside me.”

“Fuuuuck (y/n)!” he yells out your name, his hips still as he releases his load inside you, milking out all his semen and filling you up. A few grunts escaping his mouth, heavy breathing can be heard from his nose as he tries to come down from his high. Both of you are panting, that being the only sound in his room.

“Are you okay?” he asks out of breath as he removes the blindfold, throwing it on the bed next to you. He then continues to remove the knot around your wrists.

“I’m okay,” you smile, and he returns it. Once you’re free he tosses the tie on the floor and eases out of you.

“Stay put,” he commands, walking away to throw on a pair of boxer briefs and head into the bathroom next to his room. You can feel his semen slowly slipping out of you, but Tooru is quickly back and is carrying a towel in his hand. He reaches the bed and sits down on the edge and starts to clean you up.

“I can’t believe you squirted,” he smirks, and you blush.

“Me neither,” you confess. Once he’s done with cleaning you up, he takes off his boxers and lies down on the bed beside you.

“Come,” he says, and you place your head on his naked, sweaty and somewhat sticky chest. His arms wrapping themselves around you and holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“I know. But if I get to fuck some sense into you then please, do it again.”

“I’m serious Tooru. I’m sorry. I should never have-“

“(y/n), I know. Let us just forget it for now and cuddle.”

“Okay.” He leaves a kiss on your forehead and you smile, feeling happy and contended. Slowly closing your eyes and embracing the pure moment of being utterly and completely in love with this man.

[do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger]

EXT. The Roof (Winter) - Sunset

Not Just Attracted to Women!Peter Maximoff x Fem and Not Just Attracted to Men!Reader

Based off of a dream I recently had: Peter and Y/N have a conversation on the roof of Xavier's in mid-December. Peter accidentally lets it slip that he might not be straight, and he is afraid that Y/N will think less of him because of it because this is the 80s. Y/N reveals that she is also not straight, and is saddened by the fact that Peter could think that she could ever hate him- especially for that. She calls him wonderful. Feelings ensue. Also, a touch of Cherik at the end because I give the people what they want.

Warnings: Swearing, Peter cries, internalized homophobia (this is the 80s-ish and Peter uses the word 'queer' in a kind of incorrect and kind of offensive manner, but it was internalized homophobia and not actually intended to be mean to anyone but himself so I forgive him), a touch of angst but mostly fluff, Charles called you two "children" even though you are obviously not, Erik is happy that his son has someone that cares about him the way you do, Peter is insecure but not super blunt about it, Peter has been deprived of being adored his entire life, bad writing, I mention a serial killer twice, historical inaccuracy because the word queer was still a slur so yeah.

A/N: This is literally the first thing I have ever written so please be nice to me, I wrote this instead of an essay. I would love a comment of any kind, even if it's just a heart emoji or something, and constructive criticism would be highly appreciated. Also 'N/N' stands for nick-name.

(Ok, so, full discloser: the format is odd. The bullet points represent dialogue, and the only dialogue is between you two love birds. The first bullet point is Peter, the second is Y/N, the third is Peter, and so on.)

“I dunno, the whole ‘liking people’ thing has always been weird for me.”

“How do you mean?"

“Pppffftt- 'how do you mean,' what are you, Shakespeare or somethin’?”

“Yeah, because that’s the era when ‘how do you mean' would have been a popular term. Ok, what do you mean?”

“Just- when other people were liking people I never really was?”

He was gesturing wildly and avoiding eye contact, as always. He wasn't uncomfortable with eye contact, he just got bored easily in conversations, he needed to keep himself occupied. In this situation that meant staring at the red and green lights covering the rest of the roof, the snowy trees all over the yard, and a holly garland around the gate. Peter wasn't Christian, but man, did he love their Christmas decorations.

“Like… now? In school?”

“Well- yeah… but also when I was younger. And I never liked the right people? Or... liked them in the right way?”

“So you’ve never liked anyone.”

“No, no… I definitely have. It was just… weird! I don't-”

His hands dropped to his side in defeat.

“I don’t think it’s that out of the ordinary. I would tell you if it was. Also, if it was... 'weird', like you said, that wouldn’t mean it was necessarily bad.”

He hadn’t really heard what she said, he was too busy pondering what his next sentence would be. When she wasn't speaking, he was rambling.

"I had some of the normal crap… like in movies when they talk about the fluttery stomach junk. I've had that around a few girls I've been friends with, also that phase with the boy stuff, a-"

“Wait, what phase with the boy stuff?”

“Like- when you’re in middle school or whatever and you're gay for a second.”

His phrasing was a joke, but the statement as a whole was not.

“…‘Gay for a second’?”

“…Yeah?”

“Hmmm..."

"Is that- not-"

"I don't think that is... 'normal'... per-say..."

“Oh… Really?”

His heart sunk.

“…Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“…Mhm.”

“…Shit.”

He suddenly looked almost embarrassed. He shifted his posture, seemingly trying to shrink into himself.

“Do you... wanna chat about it?”

Panic started to slowly rise in him.

“Um- forget I said anything.”

“Why?”

Something in him said to go on the "defense". He did not appear as calm as he was intending to.

“I’m not- gay! or anything. I like girls! I do!”

She put her hand on his arm.

“Hey- look at me for a second. We are not in court, and I never 'accused' you of being gay. That would be a very funny reality TV show, but not what is happening right now. Listen, theoretically if you were gay that wouldn’t be bad! And I wouldn’t be… whatever you.. think that I would be? I mean- however you are afraid I would act in a negative reaction to it? I would try to be here for you, and be as supportive as possible.”

He didn’t believe her.

“Ok, sure.”

“Peter.”

“What? You’re going to tell me that you would honestly be friends with a queer person- be friends with me if I was... not... normal?”

She was taken aback by his tone, the word he had used, and the way he said it, felt like a weight dropping on her shoulders.

“Oh. would you… not?”

It was her turn to seem nervous.

“What?”

“Would you- stop being friends with someone for liking someone that they… I don’t know… shouldn’t... would be the word I guess?”

Why, in this situation, was she nervous? Oh. His fear was replaced with guilt.

“No.”

“Ok.”

“So… are you… do you… why were you scared?”

“... Why were you?”

She expected a joke from him, something along the lines of “touché".

“Are you… gay?”

“No.”

Yeah, he didn’t believe her.

“Uh-huh”

“Really, I’m not. I’ve liked boys, but also... I've had feelings for girls. I’m not… straight. So I just want to let you know that it’s okay if you aren’t too.”

“I never s-“

She smiled at him with a bit of pity, she had been there. The self-loathing, the feeling of walking on minefields with so many people in your life.

“You are…”

She paused.

“I am… what?”

“Give me a second I’m trying to find the perfect word.”

“… Okay?”

“Wonderful.”

That was not exactly the word he was expecting. Like, at all.

“Huh?”

“That’s the word. Wait- let me start over. You gotta look me in my eyes as I say it, because it’s gonna be really poetic.”

“Uh… should I be scared?”

“No. Maybe a little. No.”

“… Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You are… wonderful.”

“Oh... Thanks?“

He looked away again, to be honest, he was a bit uncomfortable. He rarely received compliments, especially ones that seem so... genuine.

“I’m not finished, look back at me, just for a second. You are so wonderful- and I will support you as whatever you are! I want you to know that I can- I can barely even think of something you could do that would make me genuinely hate you- like… maybe if you Dahmer-ed people or like chopped up a-“

He found this was amusing, yet disturbing.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry- I just- the fact that you thought, even for a second, that I could hate you… is just-“

“I’m sorry”

“No! Stop it. Don’t be sorry.”

She stared at him expectantly.

“What do you want me to-“

“Take it back! The sorry!”

“How?”

“Say you aren’t sorry”

“N/N-“

“Peter.”

“Ok. I’m, ya know, not sorry.”

“Good. You shouldn’t be”

“You’re weird.”

“Yuh-huh. Says the most likely, from the little information I've gathered, bisexual in denial who also happens to be the fastest boy on earth who had to slow down exponentially to interact with other people who also, also, happens sitting on a roof in the dead of winter with me.”

“What’s by smexual?”

Something about the way he attempted to repeat her words must have been hilarious, he thought, because here she was, sitting in front of him, in a fit of childish giggles. He would smile if he weren't so confused.

“No- that’s not- what I said- it’s… wait!”

“What?”

“You’re tryna get me off topic!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Am not!”

“Are t- shit.”

“HAHA! Victory is a sweet dessert... wait is that even the saying? Still, I win you lose, nerd.”

“Ok, okay! go on.”

She was attempting to gather herself to give off a less jokey aura. It was half working, the "am not! are too!" argument a few moments ago made it hard for him to take her seriously, but he could tell it was important to her that he did, so he tried his best.

“You have to look at me again. just for a second.”

“I sw-”

“Just do it? Please?”

His attempt to put up a fight was thwarted by her small "please". He was pathetic.

“Okay.”

He looked at her.

“You…”

“Me… or- wait- I…”

“Are w-“

“Wonderful, yeah yeah. just get to the n-”

“No.”

“… No?”

“When you say it it doesn’t encapsulate it. It sounds silly.”

“Ok little miss ‘you art thou wonderful’, how would you have me say it?”

“I am you wonderful?”

“What?”

“You called me ‘little miss you are you wonderful’ what does that-“

“Ok! Would you just- shut up and call me wonderful one more time, please?”

She looked at him and blinked. That sentence surely came off as less ironic than intended.

“You are wonderful.”

She grabbed his face, in a half-joking manner. Her grab smushed his cheeks and she couldn't help but laugh a bit when she did it. Even though it was clearly a bit, he was still flustered.

“W-“

She shook him a bit.

"Shut up 'cause I'm about to say some beautiful and true shit. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are wonderful. You are absolutely, unchangingly, and irrevocably wonderful and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, Maximoff.”

After saying what she would (in 40 years or so) recall as a painfully John Green-ish statement in her blunt and matter-of-fact manner, she let go of her semi-ironic hold on his pink cheeks. Were his cheeks pink because it was absolutely freezing, or because his heart was beating faster than he had ever (and would ever, mind you) run, you ask? No comment.

“Wow.”

“Wow what.”

“You do say it better than I do.”

“Did you like how I stressed different parts of the sentence each time? I thought that was a nice detail.”

“Wow.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Wow.”

Did his voice just... break a little?

“Peter?”

“Uh- yeah?”

Was he a little... sniffle-y? She was now very concerned.

“Are you okay?!”

“Oh- um... yeah!”

No! No he was clearly not! He was sniffling!

“Really? 'Cause, you don't seem it.”

“It’s just- I just- wow.”

“Wow, what!?”

“That was just- uh-"

“Just what? It really wasn't that fancy, you seem much too impressed with me. Oh my God, was it terrible?”

“I mean it was really corny but w-“

“I swear to God if you say 'wow' one more time I may have to add ‘use of the word wow too much’ to the list of things that could make me hate you. Right next to the Dahmer stuff. That was a joke. Your use of the word wow is only mildly perturbing. Sorry."

She was panicking "just a bit".

“I’m sorry, I mean I’m not sorry. Sorry. Shit! sorry! I mean I’m not!”

And he was absolutely... full-on crying at this point.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

He was looking down at his mittens. Not that this is important, but they were very pretty mittens.

“Look at me, you klepto.”

He didn’t.

“You know- I’ve been hearing a lot of that 'look at me' stuff from you today. I mean- the klepto part is new-“

“Peter.”

“What?!”

He peaked up at her.

“Talk to me. Please, you're kinda scaring me, let me help.”

“I’m not sad!”

“You’re crying!”

“Yeah but not from the sads!”

“… The ‘sads’?”

“You know- when you get sad! It just means being sad! I don't- that’s what Wanda calls it, not me!"

He wiped his nose, tears still running down from his puffy eyes to his reddened cheeks.

“What are you crying from?”

“No one’s ever called me wonderful before.”

“I'm sorry! I did a few minutes ago and you didn’t cry!”

“No! You can't 'sorry' me if I can't 'sorry' you! And- yeah but that doesn’t count!”

“Why?”

“Because it only felt big when you said it the certain way!”

“What way!?”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks-“

“I'm sorry about that by the way I was j-“

“No! It’s really ok! Do it whenever! I mean don’t do it whene- shut up!”

“I’m not even talking! You're the one talking!”

“You look at me, you grab my cheeks, and you go: you are wonderful.”

“Yeah???”

“No one ever called me that before!”

"Peter, I- well- they- they should! They should! More often! Then the amount that it happens now! I think. In my opinion."

"Or really looked at me like that!”

“Looked at you like what, Peter?”

“Like I was somethin’!”

“Well, you are… ‘somethin'! Whatever that means! And- I think you deserve to be looked at as such!”

“See?”

“What!?”

“You just-“

A strangled sob escaped from his throat. He didn't know how to explain.

“Pete.”

“Ew. I hate that nickname.”

He crossed his arms over his chest like a toddler, trying to completely ignore the fact that he was an emotional wreck.

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

She opened her arms and gestured for him to come closer. He was hesitant at first- but gave up all the reasons he shouldn't move to be closer to her in exchange for the promise of comfort she was offering him. He crawled over to her and curled up in her arms. The way she held him made him want to cry more. Who does she think she is- holding him like he was worth holding? With her chin sitting on top of his hair? Letting him do that gross cry sob with the spit and the snot into her only winter coat? Rocking him, and shushing him, and petting his stupid, silver hair? She was warm, too! The audacity of this woman.

When Erik brought Charles into his office to grab a chess set, they saw the two in the window. For a moment Charles considered telling Peter and Y/N to get off of the high platform, seeing as the two were the reasons the "no sitting on the roof" rule was enacted in the first place (neither of them were coordinated whatsoever). Charles quickly dropped this notion when he saw the look on Erik's face, Charles could tell it made him so happy to see Peter be held like that, cared for like that. Erik's expression made Charles want to both tell Erik that he is the most precious thing in the world, and make fun of him (look at Mr. Metal, gone completely soft). Possibly he could do both at the same time. But for now, he is just going to pretend he didn't see the two outside of the window, and have Erik grab them their game, go to the living room, and pretend not to have read Erik's mind when he inevitably asks him how he always manages to pick the white chess piece at "random".

[ssamie]

two. sea of strangers

oikawa tooru x fem langa!reader

(hq x sk8 the infinity)

warnings: spelling mistakes, swearing, 2k+ words, u have langa’s blue hair sorry

gen masterlist.            “snow” masterlist.

"its really hitting me now!" reki exclaimed as he dramatically draped his arms around her frame "you're really leaving?!" he exclaimed as he eyed her countless luggage with distaste. 

"yes reki.. im sorry" she said as she held him tightly by the waist, keeping him upright as he slouches against her torso 

"man, you're really embarrassing" miya muttered out with a sniffle as he attempted to poke fun at reki. "crying and all.." he muttered as, he too, tried to contain his tears. 

"you're one to talk! you're gonna go all red if you hold your tears in!" reki exclaimed as he ruffled miya's hair through his hoodie 

miya grumbled but finally succumbed and fully latched himself onto her back, clinging desperately as he hides his face into her hair "if you leave you're gonna be demoted from heroine to slime" he meekly threatened as he weakly punches her shoulder 

"hm, then we won't be on the same level anymore.." she muttered back as she placed her hand on his head to comfort him 

"exactly.. so you shouldn't leave." miya huffed out 

"sorry miya.. but i have to" she frowned and met eyes with her mom, who simply gave her a reassuring smile in return. 

"there's really nothing we can do but hope for a safe trip" cherry chimed in as he plucked miya and reki off of her "it will be quite a loss but, she won't be gone forever" he said. 

"yeah, but behave out there, rookie" joe mused as he slung his muscular arm around her, making her stagger a bit "dont want ya getting into accidents and shit" joe laughed as he ruffled her hair with a soft smile 

"yeah, we'll visit you after you've settled" shadow said as he jogged over to them, just having finished helping nanako carry her bags 

"hey.." he whispered to joe as he nodded towards reki. joe immediately understood and pushed her towards the redhead. "well go on then, have one last hug with your dearest best friend" joe mused "maybe a kiss as well" 

y/n huffed as she covered her warm cheeks and sheepishly walked towards reki. "um.." she mumbled out, suddenly finding the words get caught up in her throat. "the plane boards in five minutes.." she said 

"i know" reki replied with a sad smile. "what should we do for those remaining minutes? i really don't know anymore" he chuckled 

"um.. what about.." she trailed off as her hands hesitantly met his. "..this?" 

reki blinked and immediately followed along. a smile slowly crept up on his lips as they do their signature handshake. she gulped as the heat on her face worsened by the second. by the time their hands would meet to make an infinity sign, she was fully ready to drop it and leave. 

though unexpectedly, reki pulled her to his chest and squeezed her tight, holding her by her waist with one arm, while the other reaches out to caress her hair. 

"bye, y/n." reki whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ears, making her already flustered state worsen. 

"i'll make sure to see you again. don't find a new partner while you're gone, alright?" he whispered 

though his tone was laced with slight doubt and desperation. she held her hand over her beating chest and nodded. 

"i'll never find someone like you, reki." she said with a tone of sincerity. "let alone someone better." she whispered with a love filled smile. 

reki smiled back and fully engulfed her in a bear hug, swaying their bodies back and forth as he dug his face into her neck 

she gulped and slyly covered her cheeks with her hands. she was most certainly in the verge of overheating from too much joy that had her heart pounding and her palms sweating. 

"oi, oi! don't leave us out!" joe chimed in with a laugh as he slung his arms around them both. "yeah, stop hogging her you slime!" miya hissed at reki as he greedily wrapped his arms around her waist

"hey, i'm the best friend! you're the slime in the situation!" reki hissed back 

soon enough, y/n was getting suffocated under five men who thought it was a great idea to stack themselves on top of her. "can't.. breathe.." she squeaked out as she tried to gasp for air

nanako watched their exchange with a smile of amusement. though they had to move along as to not miss the flight. "y/n, its time to go" nanako said with a smile as she grabbed her daughters hand. she waved at the boys one last time and walked away, with y/n beside her. 

"BYE Y/N, REMEBER OUR PROMISE!" 

"BYE REKI! I WILL!" 

"stop screaming at the airport!" cherry smacked reki's head with a scolding glare 

"ouch! sorry, geez!" 

"ah, the air here in miyagi is very different, huh?" nanako hummed as she looked around the empty streets surrounded by trees and bushes

"i guess so." y/n replied with a nod as she walked past her mother and entered the empty home.

the huge truck filled with their furniture and belongings was parked by their new home, with the men carrying them inside. nanako frowned and followed her inside. y/n simply walked quietly to her new room which was situated upstairs. 

as she arrived, she scanned the room, eyeing the bed on the corner and an empty closet on the other side. "hm." she hummed as she further inspected the place 

nanako watched in anticipation as dread and nervousness filled her nerves. "d-do you like it, sweetie?" she asked, her voice lightly shaking. 

"its okay." y/n replied as she dropped her bags on the floor. 

nanako sighed in relief and patted her on the back. "the movers are gonna help me fix this place up, so why don't you look around the neighbourhood for a bit?" she suggested 

"i might get lost" y/n said. nanako shook her head and handed her her skateboard "no you won't, it's a pretty small town!" she said "and if you do get lost, just call me or ask around, okay?" nanako mused as she urged the girl downstairs and out the door 

"but mom-" y/n couldn't finish, seeing as nanako had slammed the door and was waving her goodbye through the windows

"bye~ have fun~" nanako mused as she waved 

y/n looked back at her with a deadpanned expression and sighed. she got on her board and skated along the smooth concrete, looking past the fairly big houses and few cars driving by. 

"hey hey iwa-chan~ i came to pick you up for practice like the good best friend that i am!" a distant voice cooed out

"shut up shittykawa, it's seven am. you're giving me a headache." another voice, this time more gruff and annoyed, said. 

y/n hummed in curiosity and looked ahead of her. they were quite far, but their loud arguing could be heard a block away, so she didn't have that much trouble. "a ball?" she muttered to herself as she looked at the ball tucked in between the brunette's arms

"weird.." she mumbled before speeding up, not wanting them to see or interact with her in the slightest. 

"hm? are there new neighbours?" the brunette asked. "obviously dumbass. they moved in just a while ago i think." the other replied 

"ooh~ i wonder if there's a cute girl that-" oikawa cut himself off as he felt a gush of wind fly past him

he curiosly turned around, but was only met with a quick dash of something blue. "what is it?" iwaizumi asked him, confused as to why his friend suddenly stopped in his tracks for apparently no reason at all. 

"did you see that, iwa-chan?" oikawa asked him as he pointed to the next block, trying to show him the person, but all that was visible was them turning the corner and disappearing from their sight. 

"there's nothing there." iwaizumi said with an unamused glare "are you messing with me, shittykawa? it's so early in the morning please give me a break" he sighed 

"no i'm serious! there was someone there! i saw something blue!" oikawa defended with a shriek 

"shut up.." iwaizumi grumbled in exasperation 

suddenly, oikawa gasped and excitedly hit his arm. "do you think it could be aliens?" he whispered with narrowed eyes, while iwaizumi simply stared back at him in distaste. 

"shut up!" 

"school already?" she asked with a look of dread as she listened to her mother talk about her schedule as they sit on the dining table. 

"but its hard to make friends.." y/n grumbled out with a grunt 

"yes, sweetie! we have to get you settled in as soon as possible so you'll be more comfortable" nanako explained "plus you can make friends with kids there so you won't be alone all the time, don't you want that?" she asked 

"you and reki became friends pretty quickly, didn't you?" nanako mused "so i'm sure you'll be fine!" 

"reki.." she mumbled out as she stared down at her food with a sad frown, a gloomy aura suddenly surrounding her as she silently sulks. 

"ah crap, maybe i shouldn't have mentioned him" nanako muttered to herself, starting to sweat bullets as she tried to rack her brain for what to do. "a-ahm well!" nanako cleared her throat and shot y/n a shaky grin. "you're a very pretty girl! im sure people will be the first ones to approach you!" she said 

"so you won't really have to do any of the work" nanako reassured her "they're normally very interested in transferees especially since you're foreign." 

"okay then.." she muttered out, though she was still unsure. "im gonna clean up now" she said as she stood up from her seat and made her way to the bathroom 

"sure, but wake up early tomorrow okay? i'll help you get ready!" nanako called out, only to receive a faint 'okay!' in response. 

once she heard the bathroom door close and the water start running, she let out a huge breath of relief and slouched back on her chair. "AGH! i accidentally made her sad!" nanako exclaimed as she pulled don her hair in distress 

"should i call reki? her friends? what do i do?!" she shrieked out. she then looked over to the photo of her husband and sulked 

"help me oliver!!" 

"okay, hasegawa y/n-san, you're in third year class 6" the assistant told her with a kind smile "its on the third floor and the room by the stairway. it should be easy enough to find." he said "unless you want me to guide you?" 

"no, i think im okay." she declined with a quick bow "thank you though." 

"come in!" a voice called out from inside 

she kept her face straight and as she followed the directions, up until she reached the classroom she was assigned. "3-6" she read the sign. she then knocked on the door and waited patiently for the teacher to let her enter. 

she followed and slid the door open, closing it behind her and walking to the front of the class, all while keeping her eyes trained on the floor. 

"is she american?" "dang, she's pretty!" "i hope she sits with me.." "what's with her hair?" "as long as she doesn't steal oikawa-senpai, im fine with her" 

she could hear all of their murmurs, though she simply chose to ignore it, not wanting to interact with them as much as possible. she gripped the strap of her bag and raised her head to face them, keeping the monotonous expression as she side eyed the teacher for permission to speak. 

he then nodded and urged her to go. "mind telling us about yourself?" he asked 

"my name is hasegawa y/n." she said, keeping her eyes straight ahead and briefly scanning a few students 

oikawa and iwaizumi looked up and watched her in curiosity. they were seated at the very back, watching her every move. iwaizumi wasn't super interested, only a bit curious about their foreign transferee. although oikawa is overflowing with both interest and curiosity. not only was he happy to have a cute girl as a new classmate, but he was quite sure he had seen her from somewhere before. 

"..." the class was silent as they waited for her to say more, though was only met with nothing. 

"that's it?" the teacher asked, slyly urging her to say more 

y/n looked over to him and back at the class. "i came from canada and moved to okinawa to here.." she said 

"... anything else?" the teacher swetadropped. she then furrowed her brows and asked, "why? is it bad?" 

"no, you're good." the teacher responded as he waved his hand dismissively. 

oikawa chuckled in amusement, making iwaizumi look over to him with a raised brow. "what?" iwaizumi asked 

"nothing, she's just funny" oikawa replied with a grin 

"alright, you can sit in between rika and iwaizumi, seeing as it's the only vacant seat left." the teacher said 

y/n nodded and scanned the room, looking for the people he had mentioned. she merely blinked as a girl with long black hair, which she assumed was rika, excitedly waved at her. 

"hasegawa-chan! come sit with me!" rika exclaimed with a smile. y/n followed and squeezed through the rays of desks, sighing once she sat down on her assigned desk. 

"..." she gulped and nervously pulled out a book and turned her head down, feeling multiple eyes bore through her. 

but by far, the most eerie and intense stare she had received was from rika, who was not so discreetly peering at her over her book, watching with sparkling eyes as she stared. 

"hi-" y/n couldn't even finish her sentence as rika excitedly perked up and shook her hands. "hi! I'm orimoto rika! you can call me rika though" she whisper shouted with a grin 

y/n blinked in surprise and gave her a wobbly grin, "hi, rika-san.." she muttered "um, you can call me y/n if you want.." 

"okay, y/n-chan!" she replied with a gleeful grin "hey, wanna join me for lunch later? it must suck to eat lunch without anyone. you can join me and-" 

the teacher abruptly cleared his throat and shot rika a pointed look. "orimoto-san, i know you're excited but please save the talking for later" he said. "right! sorry sensei!" rika laughed sheepishly as she retreated back to her desk 

y/n side eyed her one last time before looking back down at her desk, bringing out a pencil and messily sketching on the paper 

"hey" the boy beside her whispered 

she glanced at him and blinked in confusion. "im iwaizumi, nice to meet you." he said with a curt nod of acknowledgement

she didn't immediately respond but quietly inspected him "nice to meet you.. iwaizumi-san" she said. she smiled to herself as iwaizumi nodded once again and simply went back to minding his business. 

iwaizumi was chill. nice. 

she had mentally agreed with herself that she did in fact like iwaizumi. he was very different from reki's overall 'vibe' but it was comforting in a way. 

now.. the boy beside him.. she still wasn't sure if she should just ignore his overwhelming presence or give him a fake smile to satisfy him. 

"yahoo~ y/n-chan~" oikawa cooed with a flirty wave "hey~ im oikawa tooru" he introduced with a smile as he leaned over iwaizumi's desk to get closer to her and wave once again 

"..." she side eyed him and quietly nodded, opting not to respond as she slouched down to hide her face behind the book she was doodling on

beside her rika spluttered and watched with wide eyes as the girl blatantly ignored the oikawa tooru, himself. it seems not only rika had seen the interaction, or the lack of it, more so. 

the girls near her either gasped in genuine surprise or sighed in relief, having found that the new girl was in fact not a threat. 

iwaizumi, however, was simply snickering and trying to contain his laughter as oikawa stares blankly at her with his face as pale as a ghost. 

it seems everyone was enjoying themselves. she sighed and simply rested her head on her desk, wanting nothing more than for class to be over. 

"hey, eat with me later, okay y/n-chan?" rika said with a smile 

y/n looked up at her and simply nodded, blowing the stray strands of hair away from her face as she stares at the ticking clock on their wall. "i wonder what reki's doing.." she mumbled to herself 

she sighed and sat up straight, keeping her eyes on the teacher who was mindlessly continuing his lecture. 

under her breath she mumbled, 

"i wanna go home." 

i added a random 'oc' but i used rika from jjk's name lol. there's gonna be two more i think, but they're not that important lol, just some filler characters ig 

sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes :<

[celestialices]

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

Summary: You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

You really want a peaceful school year, but the universe beg to differ.

004: THE END OF A NEW BEGINNING

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To say that you were surprised by this outcome would be an understatement. Being childhood friends with Hirugami Sachiro, the university’s so-called “hottie”, is a pain in the ass.  Though Hirugami’s a dependable best friend and dotes on you like an older brother, he’s a little shit. He teases you every time he has the chance to, but knows his boundaries. He never leaves your side too; always knows what’s on your mind since he is very “observant.”  The biggest disadvantage of being his best friend, is his fans. Students flocking over you to ask questions about him was tiring. The only one that ruins your day. 

It was bearing, at first, because you thought it’d be cute when you’re one of the reason why Hirugami has a lover. But you didn’t expect it to be.. like this. You had to hide often just to stop them. Ambushing you, preventing you from leaving the university’s premises, it was all too much. That’s where Hoshiumi Korai comes in.  Your friendship with Hoshiumi is... mystifying. You didn’t even know how you tolerated being friends with him in the first place, but it surprisingly lasted up until now. Seeing that you and your childhood friend are indivisible, Hirugami arranged plans for you and Hoshiumi to meet after they became friends through volleyball. “Korai-kun, this is my childhood friend I was talking to you about. From now on, we’ll all be friends, so please get along!” Ever since that day, Hirugami pushed everything and made sure to schedule a hang out for the three of you, thrice a week. There isn’t a day during your high school years that you didn’t see Hoshiumi’s face, that’s all because of Hirugami. And yeah, that’s how the two of you got along somehow. Basically, what Hirugami has, you have to have it too. And vice-versa. But having Hoshiumi as your friend set out a vast of benefits for you. Not only he’s reliable and gives great advices (to your surprise), he’s quick to get irritated. And that managed to save yourself from the crowd plenty of times. His impatient self terrify a bunch of people, so you tend to stick by his side as long as you can. 

The bond you three shared is as tough as old boots. People say that a friendship between three people would never work, saying that one is always left out. That doesn’t mean that you never had misunderstandings, hence you always manage it before it gets out of hand.

So where are they when you need them?  Your legs are about to give up from squatting, hiding yourself in the bushes in order to escape Hirugami’s aggressive followers. You know you look stupid, but it’s better than to be chased by people, right? You checked your phone, seeing no reply from your friends made you want to cry. The text was an hour ago, meaning you’ve been hiding for an hour now. Just what on Earth are they so busy for that they can’t even check their messages?

You just wanted to go home, your mother and little brother, Yuki, are probably waiting for you. Classes ended two hours ago, so they’re probably concerned about your well-being already.  It’s been quiet for too long, so you decided to look up. No fans sighted. Contemplating on whether to just run towards the gate, or stay for a few more minutes until hopefully, a good friend finds you. You let out a deep sigh, about to risk it all when all of a sudden someone shouted your name. Letting out a yelp before looking up from your hiding place, you desperately prayed for your life. Only to see Yahaba Shigeru waving at you. Well, at least he’s close to what you’ve asked for?  Yahaba Shigeru, also a student at your university. A friend of a family friend. Oh, did I mention, an admirer of yours? 

He is handsome, not going to lie. But he’s not really your type. Yahaba is a calm and carefree guy, but also a show-off. If you’re given a dollar every time he pried your attention, you’ll probably become the richest in Japan.  “Hello, Yahaba-san.” You awkwardly greeted with a smile. Maybe after a few exchange of words, you’ll ask him to walk you to the gates. He probably wouldn’t mind, in fact, he’ll probably die of excitement.  “Are you hiding from Hirugami’s fans again?” He chuckled, making you flustered on how he caught up so fast. It’s no secret that you’re the university’s source of information regarding Hirugami. It was embarrassing. “I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay with you.”  Not wanting to turn down his offer, you instantly answered. “Oh, that’s kind of you. Sure.” You cringed a little for your fast response, he won’t think you’re eager to walk with him, no? You don’t really bat an eye at Yahaba, nor answer his advances. False interpretations of a friendly action would hurt a lot.  This won’t take long, I can do this. Standing up, you grabbed your things and walked towards him. He offered to take your bag but you politely declined, thus the fiddly walk begins. 

The stroll on your way home is noiseless, you were utterly astonished that Yahaba didn’t say a word while walking side by side. For far as you know, he isn’t like this; he always has something to say. You want to ask him how he’s doing, but too shy to do so. Your conversations are always one-sided, making you feel a bit bad.  Nevertheless, you’re thankful.  Relieved that your house wasn’t faraway from the university, you reached home in a span of minutes. You glanced at Yahaba after the both of you stopped walking, noticing that he’s already looking at you expectantly. Uh oh. You were afraid to ask him to enter with you out of respect, but he’ll agree no matter what. You just wanted to rest for now, unable to handle a guest in your current state.  “Onee-san!”  Thank God for Shibayama Yuki. Your eyes went from Yahaba to Yuki in a flash, looking at him with wide eyes. Begging to save you from this situation.  “We have a visitor. Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for you.” He said, bowing apologetically to Yahaba.  It took a lot of self-control to refrain yourself from smiling. Instead, you also bowed to Yahaba. “Thank you for walking me home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned and happily marched towards your house. The house you live in was a basic Japanese one, its build is similar to the other houses, considering that you live in a private subdivision. It’s also big enough for the three of you, and enough for family friends to stay in.  And it a nice house won’t compare to the family you’ve got.  Your mother is a strong woman, she raised the two of you alone. Worked hard to give you and Yuki a lovely home, three meals a day, and all the basic necessities a mother should provide. Anything you ask for would be given in less than a day, sometimes you think she’s spoiling you too much. But in reality, you know she just wants the best for the two of you. She’s amazing.  As for your brother, Shibayama Yuki, he’s a bit shy and gentle. He often likes to keep it to himself, but managed to have a friend. Yes, he has only one. It worries you but he assured that one true friend is enough. He’s also into volleyball, a very hard-working and determined “libero” of his team. Shibayama helps you in anyway he can, always acting as the older one by protecting you from the world. Conclusion, it was perfect. You consider this all as a blessing, you’re grateful for the life you have. Every once in a while, you question yourself on what you did on your past life to have a life like this.  Placing your shoes on the shoe rack, “I’m home.” You say out of habit and glided to the living room. You were greeted with a frowning mother and the visitor Shibayama told you about, having a serious conversation. “You’re here!”  “Yahoo!” Oikawa entered the chamber, immediately smacked by Iwaizumi for breaking the silence and made everyone flinch by his sudden appearance. “Iwa!” Oikawa whined, he doesn’t understand why Iwaizumi consistently hit him, and why he doesn’t ask him to stop either.  “Shut up, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi hissed. How can he be so slow-witted at times when he’s the son of Athena? “I just wanted to up the atmosphere!” Oikawa whisper-shouted. Iwaizumi only sighed, already used to his attitude.  Currently, the chosen deities for Zeus’ quest (minus Sakusa) are gathered together. They’ll be promptly briefed on what to expect, what to do, and their responsibilities to solve this problem before it grows.  This is the first time the deities encountered a major problem that needed the superior gods’ inclusion. Of course everyone will be terrified! Is Medusa’s daughter really dangerous? They don’t know anything about her, it’s safe to assume that she is.  And what’s more terrifying is that no one in the Twelve Olympians noticed a powerful aura in Earth. They’re watching humans from time to time, how is that possible? Is Medusa’s daughter more powerful than Zeus? That’s not possible. But then again, they live in a strange world with thousands of possibilities. Oikawa counted the amount of deities present in the room. Ten. He frowned, did someone refuse to participate in this quest? It should’ve been thirteen as far as he knows, and Sakusa is already in Earth. “Who didn’t chose one?” Eyes were landed to him.  There he goes again. Iwaizumi exhaled, Oikawa is rather weird. One moment he's bubbly and often tell cheerful remarks, next he's saying or asking confusing and alarming words.  “What do you mean?” Akaashi Keiji, son of Ares and Aphrodite, sent by war-god Ares, asked. He’s flustered by Oikawa’s sudden question, totally not understanding it at all. Akaashi is a soothing and composed god. He’s also blunt, calling out the deities on the foolish acts they do. He analyzes everyone and got a hold of their personality, but could never seem to know what’s going on in Oikawa’s head. “Kuroo is visiting Asami at the moment.” Kita Shinsuke, chosen by Demeter, answered. “As for the thirteenth representative, I don’t know either.” He added, also confused on why there’s only twelve of them. Kita doesn’t sugar-coat his words, making a lot of deities afraid to hear his comments. He is straightforward, giving precise answers only. He also does what needs to be done, no one can sidetrack him. His mature way of thinking resulted to him becoming one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, everything he worked hard for will eventually lead to a something extraordinary, just like Demeter always says. “I heard Hephaestus didn’t send one.” Ojiro Aran, representative of Zeus, replied. Aran is also one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, an intelligent and a fully-fledged god, that’s what he is. He often solve everyday problems in Olympus along with Kuroo, especially the twins’ mess. Aran is a very reliable god, he’s one of those superior gods everyone looks up to. People often compare him to Zeus, saying that he should ascend the throne as he is the best candidate for it.  “Isn’t that.. illegal?” Suna Rintarou, sent by Hades as a form of punishment from sneaking earlier, questioned. He’s a bit lazy sometimes, but also rebellious. Only he can do that. He appears to be a quiet and nonchalant god, but Suna is expressive to his thoughts; saying what he wants to say that often gets him in trouble. If only this wasn’t a serious situation, they would’ve laughed at Suna’s question. His comments are humorous.  “I asked Ennoshita about it, since he’s the son, you know? But he said Hephaestus didn’t say anything.” Sugarawa Koushi, son of Hebe and Hercules, chosen by Hestia, shared. Under his calm and gentle personality, he’s actually a mischievous god. Overall, he’s one of the helpful and kind gods, and one of Hestia’s trusted servants of Eophertia. The representatives chosen are mostly the ones who’ve passed a year or more after getting their blessing. The only ones that came from this year’s batch were Kageyama Tobio, son of Aphrodite and Himeros, dispatched by Aphrodite due to his formidable dedication, and Kunimi Akira, sent by Hermes and will act as the messenger between two worlds.

Not too long after Oikawa entered, the doors of the chamber opened again, revealing Kuroo Tetsuro in his glory. He walked with confidence, sitting in the center as he is “the son of Zeus and Hera.” 

“Finally, you’re here.” Komori Motoya, a descendant of Apollo but lives with Artemis, spoke. He was sent because he’s the only one who Sakusa talks to, and everyone likes him. A friendly and outgoing god who encourages a lot of deities. Who wouldn’t like him?  “Sorry.” Kuroo apologized. Short and straight-forward. “Asami’s doing well, if you’re wondering.” Kuroo is serious when it comes to conflicts in Mt. Olympus, but he’s usually a laid-back god who likes to provoke others.  It’s like the amount of tension lessened after what Kuroo said. They’re all dying to visit Asami too, if only she was placed in Eophertia, things would’ve been easier.  “Anyways!” Oikawa interrupted. “Do we even know where to search? There’s a thousand places on Earth! How would they expect us to finish this quickly?” He complained. Obviously pressured on the amount of expectations given to them.  “Agreed,” Kunimi spoke, pretending like his father doesn’t have anything to do with this. He could ask him, but he’s certain Hermes will just mess with him. “If the Twelve Olympians weren’t aware of a deity wandering on Earth for the past 18 years, what can we even do?”  “I think Sakusa already encountered one.” Komori announced. Glances were thrown on him. And a chorus of “what” and other incoherent words were followed. “I think! I’m not sure!” He shrieked, distressed at the stares he’s getting.  “Quiet down.” Athena suddenly engaged in the conversation. Everyone looked at her, confused at how she suddenly appeared in the chamber without anyone noticing. The power of a goddess. “Yes, we were informed that Sakusa Kiyoomi run into one, but he wasn’t sure. Still, we’ll start from there.” She declared.  “How..” Akaashi mumbled. But didn’t mind to continue it, at least they’ve got a good start.  “Where is it, Mother?” Oikawa asked. Cliffhangers are undoubtedly not his thing.  “Tokyo, Japan.” 

THE TWELVE REPRESENTATIVES

Ojiro Aran - son of Zeus and Mnemosyne.

Kuroo Tetsuro - son of Zeus and Hera. 

Iwaizumi Hajime - son of Poseidon and Amphitrite. 

Suna Rintarou - son of Hades and Persephone. 

Sugawara Koushi - son of Heracles and Hebe.

Kita Shinsuke - son of Demeter.

Kageyama Tobio - son of Himeros and Aphrodite.

Komori Motoya - son of Aceso. 

Sakusa Kiyoomi - son of Hygieia. 

Oikawa Tooru - son of Athena.

Akaashi Keiji - son of Ares and Aphrodite.

Kunimi Akira - son of Hermes. 

A/N: Hello! I wrote this instead of studying for my exams later, it’s a bit short but longer chapters will come :)) Forgive me if there are a lot of typographical errors, I was suffering from a writer’s block while writing this, I don’t know why. Notes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! It motivates me whenever I read some reviews :D I’ll probably update again two days from now unless my brain acts up again. Please look forward for it.  If you have some questions or wanting to be added to the taglist (or chat with me!) please send an ask <3  Thank you for reading!

[hstyleshoney]

Stay With Me  - part one

AU friends with benefits but things get complicated, like they always do

word count: around 8.3K // angst, alcohol consumption, language 

A/N: Hiiiiii! So, back in September I posted a preview kinda thing to a fic I was just casually writing and now I have finally finished it! Took a while but I’ve been going through some shit but now it’s done! It’s gonna be a two part thing (I think) because it turned out way longer than I first expected, and this part is still so long, woops.  It’s the first thing I’ve written in YEARS so please be nice haha.  (Also, English is not my first language so I’m sorry if some grammar is wrong. I’ve proofread it many times but it could still be bit off in some places.)

AND please let me know if you liked it and if I should post part 2 as well. Feedback is so so so appreciated because it’s been sooooooooo long since I posted anything and I’m scared hahah anyways..!

Hope you like it!

His lips were hot against her skin when he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Your place or mine tonight?”

She smiled to herself and her heart skipped a beat when she felt his warm body press against her back. The music was loud around the two of them and she could hardly hear herself think, yet his voice was clear as day. She turned to look at him and was met by his familiar warm grin as he looked right back.

“What makes you think I’ll be going home with you tonight?” she teased.

He snorted and raised his eyebrows, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling too much.

“Well, love” he started and spun her around so he could place his hands on her hips. She felt her cheeks flush under his stare as he pulled her even closer to him. He smelled like beer and tequila mixed with that cologne she loved so much. Her knees weakened and he smirked. “I think we both know you are.”

He was right.

But she wasn’t going to let him have that.

“It’s awfully bold of you to assume such a thing, Mr. Styles.”

“Is it though?” He was still smirking and she felt her knees weaken even more as his tongue poked out to wet his pink lips. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he would’ve heard it if it wasn’t for the loud music. Sweaty bodies kept bumping into the two of them on the overcrowded dance floor, which normally she couldn’t stand, but she was drunk. Very drunk and she was hungry and tired... and also in a huge need of a wee.

However, now Harry was standing in front of her.

So needless to say nothing else really mattered anymore.

His mere presence made her forget about all the people around them and suddenly her bladder didn’t seem so full after all. That’s the effect he had on her and he knew it. With his soft brown hair that curled so pretty at the tips, his smooth skin and green eyes; there was no way she wasn’t going home with him again tonight. He was the best thing she had ever laid her eyes on and he also wanted to take her home.

So who was she to say no?

“Yours then,” she replied and tried to not sound too eager. Harry squeezed her hips again as she finally confirmed they would indeed go home with one other again and pulled her even closer into him. His chest pressed against hers and she swore she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

“See that wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” She rolled her eyes as she noticed his smug grin and as much as it pained her to do; she pushed him off, pointing a finger into his chest.

“We’re stopping to buy fries on the way though... and you’re paying!”

Harry laughed and agreed, but not before adding; “I can give you something a lot better than fries once we get back.”

And well… she didn’t disagree.

-

She wasn’t entirely sure when this thing between the two of them started, or how it started even. It was just one of those things that happened one night. Harry first came into her life when her flatmate Louisa started dating his mate Tom during their first year of uni.

The first time she met him they didn’t really speak to each other. It had really just been a case of her admiring him from afar as he was approached by a handful of women at the student bar. She thought he was probably the prettiest guy she had ever laid her eyes on and thought to herself that he was just way too cool to ever notice her.

It was obvious from the start, by just watching him, that he had an aura around him that drew everyone in. People, both boys and girls, flooded around him wherever he went. He was always the center of attention and she understood why. Because not only was he the prettiest guy she had ever seen, he was also one of the nicest guys she had ever met. At first she had just assumed he’d be an arsehole because to be fair she had never really met a guy that got as much attention as him that wasn’t one.  

However, as Louias’s and Tom’s relationship grew more serious; the more all of them hung out and she started talking to him rather than just staring from afar. She got to know him and even though the two of them were quite different from each other, they still became good friends.

While she was more of a typical girly girl who enjoyed spending a little too much money on overpriced makeup palettes and listened to whatever songs were in the top list that week Harry was a little more into old school music, bringing up bands and songs she had never heard of before. He did all his shopping at different thrift shops. He wore weird shirts and painted his nails without caring what anyone else thought while she couldn’t even leave her house without checking with all her roommates at least three times if her outfit was okay. She loved scrolling through Instagram. Harry didn’t even have an account.

He was interesting, alluring and cool.

She just wasn’t any of that.

She wasn’t his type and he was simply just out of her league.

Until one night.

It was at the start of their third year at uni and they were out to celebrate their friend Jax’s birthday. To make a complicated story short, there had just been a ridiculous amount of alcohol consumed and when she told everyone she was leaving Harry stood up too and announced he’d come with her, and because everyone was so drunk, the two of them included, no one thought more about it.

They left the club together. Harry got them an Uber and when it stopped outside her house he got out as well.

Kisses were shared and clothes came off and the next day she thought she was still dreaming when Harry was right there next to her when she woke up. There was no awkwardness though as they shared a cup of tea and he made them a full English breakfast to cure their hangovers.

And then they did the same thing again next weekend and it kinda just became a thing. That was three months ago now and it was still nothing they really talked about. Which was fine; she didn’t really want to talk about it. Because what was she supposed to say? Whatever was going on between them was working and she didn’t want to complicate things.

She was fine with just waking up next to him every now and again. Especially now when the nights were getting colder it was just nice to have a warm body to snuggle up to.

It was an agreement that worked well for both of them, even if she did fancy him a little it wasn’t a full-blown crush and Harry kept calling her his friend so that’s what she also settled on calling herself. She knew she wasn’t the type of girl he usually went for and that somehow made it easier to keep her feelings for him platonic. He was too cool for her anyway.

This way she just didn’t have to swipe through tinder or chat some random guy up at the bar to get laid.

Louisa kept warning her that she was going to get her heart broken but it was just sex. Amazing sex. He made her feel like no other man ever had. Harry knew just how to work her and it made her lose her breath every single time. Her whole body was on fire anytime he touched her. She didn’t want to think about getting her heart broken.  

“What time is it?”

Harry’s raspy voice startled her out of her thoughts and his body vibrated against hers under the duvet as he chuckled at her reaction. His arm was slung over her waist loosely and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps all over her skin.

“I dunno,” she whispered back and leaned into his touch a little more. The hair on his legs tickled her smoother ones and she could feel her skin sticking against his, but neither of them made any effort to move away from each other. It was still early though, that much she knew. The sun was barely shining in through the blinds in Harry’s bedroom.

“Hm,” he hummed and tightened his grip a little. “Can’t sleep?”

“Just thinking. “

“About…?”

“Nothing really.”

Harry hummed again but didn’t say anything else. They laid in silence while Harry circled his thumb over her stomach lightly. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Just the two of them, tangled in each other’s naked bodies and the sheets. She could feel a hangover coming over her slowly. Her head felt heavy and throbbed painfully against the soft pillows. There was a glass of water on the bedside table tempting her but reaching out for it meant moving away from Harry and she was just way too comfortable to do so.

It wasn’t long until Harry’s soft snores filled the room again and his thumb stilled. She sighed deeply, sleep creeping over her too. They were friends. Friends that slept together and cuddled. Nothing else. Just friends.

… but she really could stay like this forever.

-

The next time she woke up Harry wasn’t next to her anymore and the room was a lot brighter. A weak whimper left her lips and she buried her face into the pillow; the sunlight too much for her sensitive eyes and raging headache, which only seemed to have gotten worse.

Blindly she reached out for the glass she’d spotted earlier, but instead of actually getting a hold of it it was knocked over. It landed on the floor with a soft thud and her eyes shot open at the sound. Glancing down she noticed that, thankfully, the glass hadn’t broken into a million pieces, but unfortunately there was water everywhere.

“Damn it,” she muttered and fell back, hiding her face in the pillow again. Stupid water. Stupid hangover. Stupid everything.

Her head was spinning and her body ached. This hangover was going to be rough and she cursed herself for letting Jax and Beth persuade her into taking all those shots the night before. She knew it was going to come back and bite her in the ass today. Stupid Jax. Stupid Beth. Stupid shots.

Outside the bedroom she could hear Harry roaming around in the kitchen, talking to his flatmate Isaac and every now and then he’d sing along to the music playing softly in the background. She relaxed as she listened to his voice. At least there was something good about this morning.

And it was enough to eventually get her out of bed.

She found her black underwear at the bottom of the bed and pulled them on, stepping around the water she had just spilled as she got out and made a mental note to herself to fix that mess later.

The black strap dress and oversized blazer from the night before were stern across the floor and she stared at them for a long time before deciding she wasn’t in the mood to put them back on at this time. Looking around the room she spotted something very familiar. The yellow jumper she always wore when she slept over was hung neatly over Harry’s chair by the desk, waiting for her, and she smiled to herself knowing he’d put it there for her to wear.

Always so considerate.

“Jesus, you look like absolute shit,” Isaac teased when she eventually emerged from the bedroom and into the kitchen “Wild night?”

“Fuck off,” she groaned and walked straight past him and over to the sink to pour herself a glass of water, downing it in pretty much one gulp. It spilled down her chin and onto the jumper, leaving a big wet stain, but she really couldn’t care less. Water had never tasted better.

“Ah, I’m just saying,” Isaac laughed. “You look like you got run over by a truck.”

“Feels like I was,” she admitted and slumped down on one of the chairs next to the kitchen counter. “Ugh, I’m never drinking again.”

“Ha! Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

The kitchen was surprisingly cold and she regretted not stealing a pair of Harry’s sweatpants before leaving his warm comfy bedroom. She let her eyes wander over to him and felt her pulse pick up. Harry was standing shirtless in the kitchen, only dressed in his regular Nike sports shorts, and she just couldn’t stop herself from staring at his tattoos and toned chest. The same chest she’d left kisses all over just hours ago and it gave her goosebumps just thinking about. He had a spatula in one of his hands and a cup of coffee in the other. As always, he was perfect and she looked like a mess. Great.

Harry smirked as he caught her staring, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Do you want some breakfast?” he asked instead.

“Please.”

A minute later he placed a plate of eggs and some toast in front of her. The smell of it made her nauseous but she also knew that if she didn’t eat anything she was going to feel a lot worse soon. She’d much rather crawl back into Harry’s bed and maybe sleep for another hour or two, preferably with him beside her.

But now she had a plate of food in front of her that Harry had made and it would be rude to at least not try to eat some. So she ate in silence while listening to Harry tell Isaac about the previous night and slowly she realized that she had a few blackouts from the night.

Shit, how much did I drink?

She really shouldn’t have taken those shots. Her mother would have lectured her for hours if she knew about the heavy party nights that sometimes occurred, having a strong belief alcohol was indeed a gift from the devil himself. Alcohol and sugar. She had lost count of the number of books her mother had given her about healthy living and mindful thinking, and she was pretty sure she was getting another one for Christmas. Harry once found her hidden stash of books she’d put in the back of her closet and begged her for one. She happily gave it to him.

Harry would probably love her mother’s rants about the dangers of alcohol and unhealthy meals she thought to herself and almost rolled her eyes. She could picture it now; Harry and her mother sharing recipes with each other that claimed your life would be twenty years longer and ganging up on her about the lack of exercise she did. What a nightmare.

Yet, she had to ignore the warm feeling in her belly at the thought of Harry getting along with her mother.

“Alright well,” Isaac announced after a while and stood up. “I gotta get to work. Fuckin’ Jake called in sick so now I gotta cover his shift at the shop.”

“Sucks mate,” Harry replied while he shoved the last piece of his toast into his mouth. “At least you’re getting some extra cash.”

“Yeah yeah, something like that,” Isaac muttered as he dropped his dirty plate into the sink. “I’ll see you guys later. Hope you feel better party girl!”

She shot him a weak smile and a nod as a thank you. Her plate of food was still half full and the cup of tea Harry had also made for her was now cold. She just couldn’t force herself to eat more. Stupid shots.

“You really do look like you got run over by a truck,” Harry chuckled when Isaac was gone and she sent him a glare. “How much did you drink? Didn’t realize you were that drunk when we left.”

“I actually have no idea. I think Jax and Beth might have poisoned me.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “That explains it.”

“Mm.“

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, that’s okay” she told him. “Kinda just wanna go back to bed if I’m honest.”

“‘S your lucky day then,” Harry said and rose to his feet, offering his hand out to her. “Let’s go.”

She could have cried out of happiness when she finally crawled back into Harry’s comfortable bed. The sheets had never been more comforting as she pulled them up to her chin and made herself into a little cocoon. She never wanted to leave his bed ever again. “You are ridiculous.”

She peeked out at him from under the duvet and noticed him smiling down at her fondly, but his smile soon turned into a small frown. “Is that water all over the floor?”

“Oh yeah... that was me. Sorry,” she pouted.

“I repeat, you are ridiculous,” he rolled his eyes but she also knew he wasn’t upset when she noticed his little dimple.

He quickly cleaned up the mess she had created earlier and then jumped up to join her. The bed shook as he landed and she groaned as another wave of nausea washed over her. But having him next to her again made her forget all about it. He smelled so good. How did he always smell so good?

She rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled up his laptop and signed onto his Netflix account, picking the first random movie that caught his interest.

And that’s how the two of them spent the next few hours. Just laying in bed together watching random movies on Netflix with her dozing in and out of sleep for most of the time. Harry kept running his fingers through her hair, gently scratching the top of her head and it was probably the most soothing thing she had ever experienced.

Eventually, she started feeling better but made no effort to move or get up.

Not until he did.

“I’m gonna take a shower quickly,” he announced as the third movie finished. She followed him with her gaze as he got up and pulled out a pair of fresh boxers out of his drawer. Her heart beat a little extra. “You can watch something else if you want.”

“Thanks. Are you doing something later or?” she asked casually and pulled his computer onto her lap.

“Yeah, uh, I forgot I have a date actually.”

She’s pretty sure she forgot how to breathe then.

A date.

Harry had a date.

“Oh... “ is all she managed to say. Her mouth felt as dry as it did when she woke up earlier that morning and she racked her brain for something else to say. Unfortunately there was nothing. Harry stopped and looked at her.

“Is - I mean...  um, is that okay?”

“What?”

She felt stupid. So utterly stupid but she just couldn’t find the words to speak. She felt weird, even though she knew he was technically only her friend and she knew they were not even close to being exclusive. But Harry was going on a date. Like a proper date. Not just hooking up after a night out. A date. With someone else.

“Are you okay with me going on a date... ?” he asked slowly, inspecting her closely and that’s when she realized she needed to say something fast.

“Yeah, no, of course!” she tried to laugh but it was more of a strange cackle coming out of her mouth rather than a laugh. Harry eyed her for another minute and she sat up. Her palms were sweaty and her cheeks hot. She felt like a bigger mess now than she had all morning. “Harry, we’re friends. Why would I care if you go on a date?”

Harry looked at her a bit startled.

“Well, because we-”

“I’m fine,” she interrupted before he could finish and cursed herself yet again for being so fucking weird. They were friends. She had no reason to not be okay with it. She knew she wasn’t his type. Of course he was going on a date with someone else. She knew this and she needed to get herself together before he wanted to talk about something related to the two of them and make things complicated. The thing between them wasn’t something they ever talked about and she refused to start doing it now. “I’m excited for you even,” she shot him the biggest fake smile she could muster. “Who is she?”

What a stupid question.

“Uh, a friend of Matt’s or something like that,” he shrugged, but he looked at her with uncertainty written all across his face; almost like he didn’t believe a single word she was saying.  “I don’t know really. He set us up.”

“Cool.”

“Cool... ?”

Suddenly she doesn’t want to be in his bed anymore. For the very first time, she felt awkward sitting in front of him.

“Yeah, cool.”

“Oookay.”

Silence.

It’s uncomfortable and she knew she messed this up. Both of them were frozen in place and she had to look away from him before it was all too much. She was so aware of how her cheeks had turned into a deep color of red and she felt nauseous, only this time she knew it was not from the alcohol.

“I’m just,” Harry coughed in an attempt to break the heavy tension and she wanted nothing more than to disappear.  “I’m gonna go take that shower.” He pointed awkwardly towards the door.

“Yeah, uh,” she said and tried her absolute hardest to get herself back together. To act normal. “I’m going to head home anyways I think.”

“No, you don’t-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted him again. “Beth wanted to have pizza night and I should stop being such a lazy ass anyways. I have some studying to do before my lecture tomorrow too, soo... yeah, gonna head home.”

Harry looked at her for a moment, scanning her face after any other sign that something was wrong, but she managed to keep it together and he nodded.

“Alright, well I’ll see you around yeah?”

“Of course.”

When he left the room she let out a breath she’d been holding ever since Harry first mentioned the word ‘date’. She also realized she did not like the way she just reacted and that maybe, very possibly, Lou might have been right.

She was fucked.

-

For the next few days she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and his date. She wished she could go back in time and take back everything she said; wished she would have reacted differently. It was hard to think about anything else and all she wanted to do was to go and see him and ask him all about it. How did it go? Was she nice? What did they do? Was he going to see her again? Did they kiss?

And if she hadn’t been so embarrassed about her behaviour she probably would've done so, but she had no explanation as to why she’d been so weird and she was too scared to go deeper into her own feelings and find one. So as much as she wanted to see him she was also extremely terrified to do so.

But it was really eating her up.

She couldn’t focus on anything else.

And it was strange.

Before all this, she was sure of her feelings towards Harry. Sure he was attractive, he was nice and he made her laugh, but she thought she’d managed to keep it platonic. Now she just felt weird. Everything about their arrangement felt weird, and she didn’t know what to do. Deep down she knew there wasn’t much she could actually do about it. He went on a date and she was his friend. Friends with benefits. They weren’t anything exclusive. He hadn’t done anything wrong. She told him so herself.

Still, something felt wrong.

On Thursday night their whole gang made plans to meet up for their regular quiz night down at the pub and she stood in front of her mirror for an hour, preparing herself to see him again. She changed her outfit five times and rehearsed what to say when she saw him over and over again.

Only for him to not show up.

So instead of being squished into his side all night, she was stuck between Jax and Louisa and she found herself missing him. She didn’t even have to ask to know he was on another date, yet when Isaac confirmed it later she felt her heart drop down to her stomach.

Louisa glanced over at her when Isaac told them and she forced a smile, not ready to let anyone know about the weird feeling in her chest. Louisa also tried to bring it up on their way home, but she brushed it off with the same thing she always did.

“We’re just friends.”

But once she was home in bed it was harder to act like nothing was troubling her. Harry was out on another date and it shouldn’t be bothering her but it did. It bothered her a lot. He should’ve been right there with her, laughing along at their friends' jokes all night and then suggest coming back home with her.

Now he just wasn't and it felt wrong. It was only three months ago that he came home with her for the first time but somehow it wasn’t until now she realized that she may have gotten a little too used to it.

It was so stupid the whole thing. Like ridiculously so.

She knew from the first night that she would never be more than a few drunken nights to him. That his touch wasn’t hers to keep. It belonged to someone else. So why did it feel so weird now?

On Friday night, Beth invited a few people over from uni to their place for a game night and some wine. She joined them but decided to stay away from the wine. They played monopoly for most of the evening while gossiping about everyone they knew. It was nice. It was fun. She won at monopoly. But most importantly it helped her to not worry about what Harry was doing or who he was seeing. It felt like her brain got a long awaited break from everything and she slept better that night than she had all week.

It was on Saturday it all came crashing down.

They were all going out. The whole gang. As always everyone had shown up for pre-drinks at the house she shared with Louisa, Beth and Aliyah as it was the biggest one. Jax had as usual brought along a bottle of Fireball that he forced everyone take a shot out of. Beth refused to let anyone else control the music. Tom and Louisa were loved up on the sofa together. Isaac was in the kitchen mixing drinks for everyone while Aliyah complained about Beth’s choice of music. All in all it was a pretty typical Saturday night and it was all going well.

Until Harry showed up. With a girl.

She almost dropped her drink when she saw them and everyone in the room turned to look at her when they entered. Once again she had to force a smile to assure them she didn't care and more than ever before she tried to ignore the way her heart sank inside her chest.

And for some very odd reason; she was the first to stand up and greet Harry’s new lady friend. Maybe because everyone was looking at her and it felt like they were just waiting for her to start crying in front of everyone. She didn’t want their pity so she stood and shook this new girl’s hand, acting like everything was completely fine.

“Cleo,” the girl introduced herself with a cheery smile.

And that was about it.

After that she didn’t really talk to her anymore. That’s something she left for the rest of the group to do.

It was hard to concentrate on anything else for the rest of the evening and despite promising herself to not take a shot from Jax’s bottle of Fireball; she had three. The alcohol was warm as it made its way down her throat and she noticed Louisa watching her with worried eyes.

And Harry? She couldn’t even look at him. He tried to talk to her and start a conversation at one point but it felt like her brain was about to explode from anxiety so she quickly excused herself and hid in the bathroom for a good twenty minutes.

She tried her very best to be engaged in the conversations around her and she tried so hard to have a good time. Just like she had the night before. But with Harry right there with Cleo it was fucking impossible and she felt like a green little goblin watching the new pair.

Cleo was pretty much everything she expected her to be and more. She just couldn’t stop staring at them. Harry had a hand on her thigh and she was so polite to everyone. Just like him. She had tasteful tattoos all over and it was almost like the two of them had coordinated their outfits before coming over. Both dressed in checkered prints and matching colors of pink and red. She felt so stupid in her boring and basic black jumpsuit and her dull eye make-up.

Cleo was so effortlessly pretty and she just wasn’t.

It was a slap in the face just how right they looked together.

And it just got worse when they arrived at the club because under the flashing lights on the dance floor she saw how Harry leaned in and kissed Cleo. One of his hands was low on her back while the other caressed her face. Everything was spinning as she watched them kiss she knew it was not only because of the alcohol in her veins.

It hit her hard. Because a small, a very small, and naive part of her thought that maybe he’d still want to go home with her and not Cleo. But as she watched him kiss Cleo the way he used to kiss her ruined all hope she had ridiculously built up.

And maybe it wasn’t the kiss itself that hurt so much but more the fact that Harry was now with someone else and it was real. It was so bloody real.  Just last week it was her and now he was kissing Cleo and had barely looked in her direction all night. And even though he technically hadn’t done anything wrong it still hurt and she was angry. Angry with him for kissing someone else, but mostly at herself for still wanting him. For wanting to walk right up and pull him away and take him home. She still wanted him despite everything, but she couldn’t have him.

So instead she had some tequila.

Except, tequila probably wasn’t the best company because in the wee hours of the night she regretted every single shot she had taken. The alcohol in her body made her stomach turn heavily and it was a miracle she even made it into a bathroom stall before it all came back up. Someone on the other side of the stall asked if she was okay but she could barely hear them over the loud buzzing in her ears and her own gagging.

It took her several minutes before she found the strength to get back up on her feet, brushing away the dirt from her jumpsuit, trying desperately not to think about all the germs she had most likely caught from resting so long against a public toilet seat.

As she exited the stall another girl looked over and she didn’t even try to pretend like she hadn’t just been throwing her guts up minutes ago. Instead, she splashed some cold water on her face and took a steady grip of the sink to keep herself standing up.

Fuck.

When she stumbled out of the bathroom a while later she had to lean against the walls to not fall over. The dim lighting in the club made it even harder for her to see where she was going and she kept bumping into bodies as she eventually made her way through the crowd.

Then all of a sudden someone grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Heeeey, party-girl, are you okay?”

The buzzing was still loud in her ears and her vision was blurry, but she still somehow managed to recognize the voice and the striking blonde hair. Isaac. As soon as she knew it wasn’t a complete stranger that had grabbed her she fell into him without a warning and he stumbled a little as he tried to catch her body. “Woah, steady on.”

She tried to talk to him. Tried to explain how she got to this point but no coherent words were coming out of her mouth and she had to use his whole body for support. He wrapped an arm around her and hoisted her up a little before taking a hold of her chin so he could get a good look of her face. She could tell that he was talking to her, his mouth was moving, but she had no idea what he was actually saying. It was too loud and she was too drunk. The club atmosphere made her stomach turn once more and all she wanted to do was to get out of there before she was sick all over again.

And somehow she managed to communicate that to Isaac.

The air was cool and refreshing when they finally made it out of the club and she was clinging onto Isaac as if her life depended on him. He had a strong arm wrapped around her as he pulled out his phone with his other hand to get an Uber. As they waited for it to show up Isaac slowly guided her over and sat her down on the curb next to the road. He crouched down in front of her and took a hold of her chin again. That’s when the first tears fell. She didn’t even try to hide it, once again too drunk and too sad to care if Isaac saw that she was crying.  His eyes widened as he noticed.

“Heey, noooo, no, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t know what to tell him. Everything was spinning too much to be able to think of what to say. The alcohol and emotions had taken over all of her senses and it was all just too much. There was only one explanation for her behavior tonight after all and how would she even begin to explain it to him? She had no idea. So all she said was

“Cleo.”

Isaac didn’t say anything in response but she was pretty sure he knew exactly what it meant when he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Nothing more was said as they waited for the Uber to show up and the last thing she remembered was crying about not having the key for her house.

-

The next morning was arguably the worst morning of her life, which seemed quite fitting as she’d had the worst evening of her life the previous night. Most of the morning was spent on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, head first down the toilet, regretting every single decision from last night.

This time though it was all her own fault. There was no one else to blame for all the shots she downed but herself.

It was embarrassing. So so embarrassing how drunk she got and how much Isaac had to take care of her. He had brought her back to his and Harry’s shared flat after they couldn’t find her key and realized she was locked out from her own home. She cried her eyes out in the Uber while Isaac tried to comfort her and when they got out she almost got vomit all over his new sneakers.

However, Isaac was nice about it all. He didn’t say anything and just helped her inside, put her down on the sofa, made sure she drank some water and covered her with a blanket. She couldn’t remember exactly what she told him but she knew she had talked about Harry and it was killing her.

But Isaac continued to be nice and he didn’t bring it up when he wandered in and said good morning.

“Y’alright?”

“I feel like death,” she confessed and her throat hurt a little from being sick all last night and earlier that morning.  Isaac chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

She bit the bottom of her lip and struggled to look at him where he sat on the armchair opposite the sofa she was spread out over. She had known him for as long as she had known Harry, but she had never actually been alone with him in a room and now when she was sober she felt so stupid, and also so incredibly self-conscious because she knew her make-up from last night was smudged all over her face and she had vomit on her jumpsuit and all over her hair. It was the lowest she’d ever been.

“So um,” she grumbled. “Thanks for last night, eh... yeah, I don’t know. I’m sorry for being a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac waved it off and smiled at her. “We’ve all been there.”

“Yeah, well, thank you anyway.” She still couldn’t look at him as she spoke. Because he knew. He knew her feelings for Harry had changed and she didn’t know how to act now.

“So much for never drinking again huh?” he joked lightly to ease the mood and she forced a laugh.

“Yeah, didn’t stick to that one, did I?”

Silence fell between them after that, but in some ways, it was a comfortable one. Isaac sat in his chair and scrolled through his phone as he drank his morning coffee while she just laid on the sofa and tried to collect her mind and emotions. He offered to make breakfast but there was just no way she was going to be able to stomach it. Water was pretty much all that her stomach allowed and she was barely holding onto that. It was early still and she could tell it was raining heavily outside as the raindrops drummed heavily against the windows. It was comfortable though. Pleasant even.

And then, out of nowhere, Cleo emerged from Harry’s bedroom and all the emotions from last night washed over her like a tsunami.

Plus, it felt like someone was playing a practical joke on her when she saw that Cleo was wearing Harry’s shirt from the night before.

“Good morning!” Cleo was as cheery as she was last night and looked even better. Issac nodded and greeted Cleo politely. To make things worse Cleo sat down in the other armchair and started a conversation. Time stopped as she watched Cleo and Isaac talk and it felt like someone suffocated her with one of the pillows. “Did you guys have a good night then?”

She couldn’t take her eyes off Cleo, who looked perfect even after a night out. Her hair was still flawless and her skin looked like it was glowing. It wasn’t ideal for anyone to see or be next to Cleo when they woke up after a chaotic night out and they themselves were covered in vomit. It honestly made her more nauseous than her hangover had all morning and she’d probably never felt as ugly as she did in that moment laying next to Cleo.

“It was decent, yeah,” Isaac said and then looked at her. His eyes filled with pity and she hated it. She hated it so much. “You?”

“It was super fun,” Cleo answered with a big smile. “Harry and I got in sooooo late though. We stopped to get some food down at that kebab place around the corner before we got in and I swear to God it was the best food I’ve had in my life! Thanks for letting me come out with you guys.”

And just like that, it was all too much. There was just no way she could sit there and talk to the girl who was dating the boy she had come to realize she liked more than just a friend. There was a lot she could do and put up with, but that wasn’t one of those things.

“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled as she got up from the sofa. Isaac called out her name but she ignored it. Her whole body ached and her head felt heavy. She had no idea how she was actually going to make it home in this state but she’d try her damn hardest, even if she was sick along the way it would be better than staying here.

Then she heard her name being called again.  

This time however it was from someone else.

Someone whose voice she’d recognize anywhere.

Harry.

“What are you doing here?” He looked at her with furrowed brows, clearly not expecting to see her.

“Oh, eh, hey,” she managed to croak out and fought back the urge to be sick all over again. “I came back with Isaac last night.”

“You uh, you came back with Isaac?” Harry asked slowly, his eyes never leaving her as a small line formed between his brows. He opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it just as fast. The silence that fell between them then was defeating.

“I mean, I wasn’t feeling very well so he helped me out a little.”

“Oh, okay,” he nodded and the corner of his mouth twisted into a small smile, but then it faltered just as fast. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”  She knew she was being short with him and the look he gave her burned into her skin, but with tears threatening to fall at any moment it was a conversation she really didn’t want to have. Not with him. Not right now. “Look, Harry, I gotta go.”

“What?” he said and pushed himself off the door frame he leaned against, and as he came closer she took a step back. “You’re more than welcome to stay. It’s so early still and by the sounds of it it’s bucketing down outside. Stay for some breakfast. I was gonna make some pancakes.”

“I have to go.”

“Wait,” he called after her when she turned her back to him and got ready to leave. “Hey, wait a minute!”

She didn’t really care at that point though. Whatever thing she and Harry had was already gone and there was nothing that could make things worse than what they were now. She just wanted to get out and get as far away from him as fast as possible.

So she left without saying another word to Harry despite him calling her name.

- “Harry’s a fucking prick anyways,” Aliyah began and threw her hands up dramatically. “Like, is he just going to sleep with you one week and then replace you next week? No, fuck that. You deserve better.”

“He did tell me about it though,” she noted with a small sniffle and curled up further under her blanket. “I mean, he did tell me he was going on a date so it’s not like he lied or I don’t know... went behind my back.”

“Yeah, well, he’s still a prick,” Aliyah grumbled and slumped back against the sofa, arms crossed over her chest.

“Besides, we’re just friends, you know... ”

“You’re clearly more than just friends though,” Louisa added carefully with knowing eyes. “Like, I hate to break it to you but it’s pretty obvious you like him.”

“I... “ she trailed off not knowing how to respond to that. Because she knew she couldn’t keep denying it anymore. Not after showing up at her own house, drenched from the rain with red puffy eyes in last night’s clothes and without a key. No matter how scary it was to admit what she had buried inside her heart for so long it was impossible to deny it any longer. “Yeah. I do. I do like him.”

She let out a huge breath as she finally admitted it. It was strange, but also so right. The feelings she had for Harry was something she had buried inside for so long and it was freeing almost to now admit it out loud in front of her best friends.

“Maybe you should tell him that?” Beth suggested.

She almost laughed.

“That’s definitely not happening,” she shut down the suggestion straight away. There was no way she was telling him how she felt. Especially not now. “He obviously doesn't like me back, and besides he has Cleo now, and you know.. he’s like actually dating her and stuff so…”

“So what?” Beth cut in. “He might like you too. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Me?” she scoffed. “Yeah, I highly doubt that.”

Beth shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think he might do.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore does it? He has Cleo now.”

“You won’t know unless you ask,” Louisa pointed out with a small twinkle in her eyes. Before she had the chance to object to the faulty statement the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed through the house.

“That’s probably the food,” Beth announced and stood up swiftly. “I’ll go get it.”

She gave Beth a small smile and wiped her wet cheeks with the ends of her blanket. As soon as she had left Harry’s flat earlier that morning she broke down in tears and called Louisa who offered to come to pick her up straight away but she declined, needing some time for herself before facing anyone.

But after showing up a mess, drenched from the rain in last night’s clothes after walking all the way home it was clear that she needed all her friends today. So Aliyah ran her a bath while Beth ordered food and Louisa went out for snacks and her favorite drink.

And she couldn’t be more grateful.

“Uhm,” Beth popped her head back in the living room and it was obvious by the look on Beth’s face that something was off. “It’s Harry.”

“W-what?”

For a moment she thought that maybe Beth was just taking the piss but judging by the confusion spreading across the room she quickly realized that wasn’t the case. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

“You sure?” Louisa asked. “This might be the perfect opportunity to talk things through.”

“No,” she shook her head quickly. “I can’t. Not now.”

“I’ll go talk to him!” Aliyah announced with fire in her eyes and leaped off the sofa in one go, only to have Beth stop her in the doorway.

“I think maybe I should talk to him,” she offered and looked at Aliyah with both her eyebrows raised knowingly. Aliyah only mumbled something under her breath but accepted Beth’s proposal and returned to her spot on the sofa without a fuss.

“You okay?” Louisa asked when Beth disappeared again to go talk to the boy who had her heart aching so badly. Louisa reached out to squeeze her knee gently when she didn’t respond. She just didn't know what to say; because she wasn’t okay. She was very much far from okay today.

Tears welled up in her eyes for the hundredth time and she shook her head and attempted to blink her tears away. She didn’t want to cry anymore. Louisa sighed and pulled her closer and wrapped her arms around her in a long hug. It was embarrassing really how much she had cried all day but she just couldn't stop. Never in a million years did she think she’d ever get so upset over a guy.

But it was Harry.

Harry who left jumpers out for her to wear after she stayed at his flat. Harry who made her breakfast in the morning and knew exactly how she liked her tea. Harry who made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe anymore. Harry who rubbed her back after a night out. Harry who let her steal all of the duvet in her sleep even though he was cold too. Harry who texted her stupid jokes just because he knew she liked them. Harry who also texted her cute pictures of puppies because she loved dogs. Harry who made her feel like no man ever had.

Harry who was now with Cleo.

Cleo who was absolutely perfect for him. Cleo who probably went thrift shopping with him and helped him find silly shirts with crazy prints and knew about all the bands he always talked about.

Cleo who was just so much better than her.

-

Harry Styles 8:27 AM Heeeyyy are you mad at me?

Harry Styles 10:12 AM Hello?

Harry Styles 10:46 AM Ok so mad then? will you pls talk to me? don’t like the way you stormed off earlier :/

Harry Styles 12:01 PM Hellloooooooo? pls talk to me

Harry Styles 12:30 PM Isaac told me you were quite upset last night... did something happen?  

Harry Styles 12:56 PM You’re making me a bit worried, did you make it home okay?

Harry Styles 1:15 PM I tried calling a few times but it’s not really coming through.. Are you okay?

Harry Styles 2:49 PM I'm coming over

Harry Styles 4:37 PM Beth said you weren’t feeling so well,  I hope you feel better soon, make sure you drink loads of water! .xx

Harry Styles 11:26 PM Ok sooo, i dunno whats going on. i dunno if Beth lied to me today or not... i just hope you're okay. you know you can talk to me if something is bothering you right?

Goodnight .xxx

-

PART 2 ♡

Let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading! <3 

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : How Does It Feel?

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I am small and the world is big All around me is fast moving

I'm not afraid of anything I just need to know that I can breathe

I'm young, and I am free But I get tired, and I get weak

How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel to be different from me? Are we the same? How does it feel?

                    The art department was not as impressing as the one at my old uni, but amazing nonetheless. I walked slowly through the barely-started or almost-finished paintings in the empty room, my eyes moving on all the pieces of art. The room felt warm and I knew I'd be happy here. I started wondering if we could spend time here before and after classes but somehow, I felt like asking Louis would be useless. He probably didn't know much about the art department anyway. I glanced back at him and felt my lips curl slightly on the left when I realized he was staring at me from the door. He leaned against the frame, just waiting for me, and I pressed my lips together, feeling extremely thankful that I was not alone. I didn't know why we had bonded so easily but I didn't want to question it. It was the first time I trusted someone as much as I did since... that someone I used to love. But this time, it felt very different.

I ran two of my fingertips on an easel, moving my fingers on dried painting stuck on the wood, and lick my lips. I hadn't worked on my last painting in weeks. In fact, I had not created anything in way too long and I missed it. I wrote down the instructions to find my classes easily the next day and ended up at a small dinner with Louis.

"You really seemed mesmerized earlier." he said softly.

I looked up at him as he sent me a small smile and I bit my bottom lip, raising my eyebrows. Yea, maybe I was a bit fascinated by art, and perhaps it could be a bit weird if you didn't know what it felt like, but the way Louis was smiling at me told he didn't think anything bad of it : he just thought it was funny.

"I'm a bit stressed to get back into it, to be quite honest." I admitted, raising my nose up in a grimace. "I feel like I haven't painted in years."

"You have a painting class tomorrow?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Mmhm, and photography, too." I remembered, feeling my heart skip a beat at how stressed I was to start new, especially in the middle of a school year. "I think my day will end with Art History but that's no problem, I'm quite good at that."

"By the end of the year, I'll have let you bring me to a museum." he just said with a chuckle.

"And you can bring me to a football game."

Louis laughed just as we got our plates. We started eating in silence and even if it could be awkward, it really was not. I loved Louis. I didn't have many friends at my old university, and most of those I had didn't even care about me anymore. They had suddenly disappeared after the drama happened and even if I tried to tell myself I couldn't blame them, I still did anyway.

I was about to tell Louis that his friendship meant a lot to me but his phone beeped and I looked at him as he grabbed it, still chewing on the enormous bite he had taken from his pizza.

"Mm, I'm sorry Dev, did you plan on visiting more places this afternoon?" he asked before raising his eyes up and looking at me. "I sort of have an emergency."

I felt suddenly disappointed but I kept it to myself and sent Louis a smile. I knew I was not his only friend, and I know he didn't owe me all his time. Everything just felt easier and safer when he was around. Still, I was not a fragile and pathetic little girl anymore, I could definitely survive a few hours by myself.

"Hey, no worries." I just shrugged, taking a sip of soda. "I'll check a few more classes and go back to my room to prepare my stuff."

Louis stared at me for a few seconds and he seemed skeptical, which surprised me because I knew I was a good liar, and that I could hide my emotions very well. I raised my eyebrows at him and chuckled, shaking my head slightly.

"What?"

"You sure? I feel like shit for ditching you."

This time, I chuckled sincerely. "I'm fine, Louis. You're good. I mean, I know you have a life, can't expect you to spend 24/7 with me!"

"Trust me, I'd prefer to keep visiting with you." he pointed out, making me smile more as he swallowed the last bite of his pizza. "I'll text you yea?"

---

I had spent a few more hours wandering around but I hadn't talked to anyone. I sucked at making friends and I didn't trust easily, and maybe it didn't help. It was probably something about my aura, or simply something that emanated from me, who knew?

I had found the photography class and a few others that seemed to be more about theory but something caught my ears and I frowned slightly. I was not a music student and I knew I was probably super bad at it, but the piano notes made my heart jump in my chest. I've always wanted to learn, but I never had the guts to try. I followed the music who suddenly stopped only to start again from the beginning.

I walked to the door and peeked subtly inside. The first thing I noticed was the piano, placed against a wall. I knew the room was full of different instruments but I didn't have time to check : I was too surprised by who was sitting in front of the piano, his finger sliding skillfully on the keys. He was not too far but he was too focused on what he was doing to notice me. I honestly didn't expect Niall to be studying in music but with the way he played, it was not surprising. He grabbed a notebook and scribbled something quickly before scratching it and writing something else. He put the notebook away and cleared his throat before playing again and this time, I really heard his voice.

"We should twist the knife, put it all to bed, I.... need to understand what it takes to love again."

It's only when he stopped playing again to write some more that I realized I was holding my breath. He left one of his hands near the piano with his fingertips brushing in the keys as he wrote more in his notebook and finally put his pencil in his mouth to try a few more notes. I felt something stir in my stomach and realized tnat the notes he was playing did something to me inside, something I couldn't explain. I normally feel that in front of a special painting or photography that actually makes me feel something but this time, it was a song. A song that apparently, was not even finished. I felt extremely guilty to be there, like I was hearing something I didn't have the moral right to, and I thought about how i'd feel if someone watched me paint without me knowing. I held my breath as he started singing again, taking me out of my thoughts to focus on him singing.

"So come on, love me when the lights burn low Meet me underneath the sheets 'Cause you got a hold of me, baby Enough to pull me back in deep You used to love me when the lights burned low Now we're tearing at the seams We've both had enough of this, baby So promise me that when you leave You won’t say you'll come back to me."

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, feeling every word in my bones and deep in my stomach. I felt like he was singing about my own story and even if I didn't want to admit it, it hurt me more than I thought it would. Perhaps I was not completely healed from what had happened to me and even if deep down I knew it, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. That's why I was here anyway, right? To get back on my feet and get rid of the feelings for someone who literally broke me?  I came back to reality only when I heard him groan and my eyes fluttered open. He scribbled something again in his notebook and I started nibbling my bottom lip. It was incredible to feel connected to someone who always got on my last nerves. I had known him for only 24 hours and he had made me feel more emotions than most people in my life and that thought alone really bothered me. Of course, they were not all good ones but it still didn't change the fact that this guy easily got to me. At that exact moment though, the feelings inside me were good. Scary, but good.

I thought about everything I went through in the past 2 years of my life. The rumors, the comments, the judging... and also the way I had my heart broken into a million pieces by someone I thought was the love of my life.

Once again, I got out of my daydream and left. In fact, I started running. I sprinted through campus and stopped only when I closed the door of my room and leaned against it. I tried to catch my breath and let myself slide against the door until my ass hit the floor and closed my eyes. I knew heartbreaks take time to heal, but I wanted it to be over now. I wanted to stop thinking about him and what he did to me. I wanted to stop being so sad for someone I knew didn't deserve me. Hearing Niall's words brought everything back to the surface and it pissed me off that I still let these thoughts and feelings invade me like that.

I leaned my head against the door and thought about what had just happened, pushing the bad thoughts away, or at least trying. Niall was an artist and that was probably one of the reasons why he could so easily get to me... and also probably why I felt connected to him in a special way. The truth was, I didn't want to feel connected to an arrogant prick like him. Yes, his song had made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time but that didn't mean him, as a person, made me feel things, right? I groaned low, hating the fact that even his voice seemed to still resonate inside me and got up to take a shower.

I should have gone out to eat something but I was not hungry. This whole thing had left me confused and I tried to get rid of those thoughts but when I got out of the bathroom, Niall was sitting on his bed, typing something on his computer. I glanced at him, feeling my heart skip a beat, remembering that I had literally spied on him and to me, it felt worse than if I had looked at him naked without his consent. Somehow, having your soul exposed seemed way worse than having your body exposed. I was not a big fan of my body, but there were some things engraved in my soul that I didn't want to share, and after hearing Niall's song, I felt like it was the same thing for him.

"Hello Devon, a bit early for a shower?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the screen of his computer. "Did you do the dirty?"

I wanted to be a smartass and tell him I was too busy spying on his writing his new song, but I ended up thinking it could easily turn against me. I rubbed the towel on my dark and and he looked up to stare at me, probably waiting for an answer. The way his eyes softened made me think he could feel bad about teasing me all the time but I pushed that thought away. Niall didn't have weak moments, or at least, not around people. With the lyrics and feelings in his songs, he probably could be weak, sometimes, when he was by himself.

"If I say 'yes', will that bring images to your brain?"

"A shower won't cleanse your soul, I hope you know that." he just replied, ignoring my question.

"Who says my soul needs to be cleansed?"

He raised his eyebrows and a small smile appeared on his lips. I had no idea what he heard in my words, but once again, it felt like he knew something about me that he wasn't allowed to know.

"You got here in the middle of the year, you barely talk to anyone, didn't decorate your side of the room with anything. Everything is so generic with you." he explained, shaking his head slightly. "At first sight, I didn't pin you as a generic kind of girl but that's exactly what you are. It wouldn't surprise me if you told me you're studying to be an accountant or a lawyer."

"Yea, because people with these kinds of job are boring and drab." I let out with sarcasm and a frown.

"See? Once again, you're not telling me anything about you. You're just defending hypothetical people that don't give a shit."

My traits softened and I cleared my throat. Of course he was right, but at the same time, I found out painfully that letting out information about myself could just give weapons to people around me, and that these weapons could end up hurting me. I didn't trust many people, and I didn't trust Niall. Just because I heard him sing one song that made me drown in my own feelings didn't mean that I would now open up to him.

"What are you scared of?" he added in a lower tone after about a minute of silence.

I felt my heartbeats accelerate and swallowed hard. I wanted to let it all out. It was so hard to keep everything inside. I wanted to tell him everything, to express my biggest fears and tell him how much in pain I actually was. But it was Niall Horan, my new roommate and antagonist, and there was no way I would confide in him.

"Nothing."

----

My first class went well and even if it was early in the morning, I was pretty sure I took enough notes to keep up with everything. I hadn't talked to anyone, a bit scared that I would get asked why I actually switched school in the middle of a year, and therefore, haven't made any new friends. I thought about Louis but I knew he couldn't entertain me all the time and that I'd have to make friends with a few people on my classes. I thought about just blatantly lying about the reason I was now in this school and started thinking of a plausible answer during my second class. I was surprised when I was asked to actually paint but since it was not really the beginning of the school year, it was quite normal. I hadn't brought any of my paintings with me. I had decided to leave them all at my old university. I had no idea who had them now, and when I thought about it, I told myself they were probably just in the garbage, where they belonged. I normally keep everything or almost, but these creations didn't reflect who I was anymore, and looking at them only made me feel like shit.

I started my new painting with a lot of dark blue and grey and I was not sure why. Perhaps it just represented the colors of my soul or something cliché like that. It's only on my first class in the afternoon that everything changed.

Art History has always been fascinating to me and I knew that we would get to see a lot of art by many different artists and learn about them and how they changed the artistic world. I wanted to be able to interpret art, from an analytic point of you but also in an emotional way. It was always something that interested me and one of my favorite classes.

The bad thing when you get in a new school is that you know no one. The good thing is... no one knows you. In my case, I enjoyed both for the time being, and I'd try to make friends later... maybe. That's why I was so shocked when I entered the art history class and saw him. I had to put up with him almost every evening, night and morning. Why did I have to, again, in one of my classes?

His eyes met mine and I thought I would see a smirk draw itself on his mouth but instead, his lips opened slightly as if he was surprised to see me there. I took a seat and his eyes followed me, making me suddenly very nervous. He kept staring at me for a while before turning around again and I let my shoulders fall. Would he talk to me? Would he mention anything? Would he tease me?

I blinked a few times when the class started and decided to focus on learning instead of thinking non-stop about my roommate. I got suddenly excited when it was mentioned that we were going to visit a museum and make a paper about it but a bit less happy when I was told it would be in a team of four.

"Devon Eaton with... Daxia Lee, and Asher Johnson and finally, Niall Horan."

I realized I had stopped breathing only when Niall's eyes moved on me again. I thought It could be a great opportunity to meet people and potential new friends, but I hadn't expected this at all. Once again, I was stuck with him.

[fics-for-my-heart]

Newbie (s.s)

Summary: Starting a new school with the ability to see that someone is supernatural takes a crazy turn

Word count:4069

Warning: talk of people dying, typical teen wolf stuff

A/N: I was going to put this all in one part but I think it’s going to be too long. So here’s part one. I might make it a series? There’s not too much romance in this but I definitely plan to make it happen soon. Let me know what you think. Also I’ve been watching Buffy which was why it was included in this.

Part Two

Masterlist

Starting a new school always sucked. But, starting a new school with the knowledge of the supernatural you had seemed to make it worse. Plus, your ability to see when someone was supernatural made things a bit awkward. Each supernatural gave off their own color, like an aura, and that’s what you could see. There was a good amount of supernaturals in your old town, but as you walked the streets of Beacon Hills you realized there were so many more. 

“Have a good day sweetie.” Your mom said as you shut the car door. “Don’t let your sight get in your way. Make some friends.” 

“I’ll try. Love you.” 

“Love you! I’ll be at the shop if you need me.” Then she was gone, leaving you to watch everyone running around to get to friends or to class. 

After checking in at the front office, the secretary, Mrs. Elle, took you to your first class. “Mrs. Hopkins is a wonderful English teacher. If you need any help throughout the day come see me.” She knocked on the door, then opened it to a room full of people, the teacher was at the board. A beautiful purple glow surrounded her. 

Fairy. 

“Mrs. Hopkins, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She just transferred here.”

Mrs. Hopkins gave a bright smile, walking over to shake your hand. “Lovely to meet you. We are just starting on The Great Gatsby. There’s only a few seats left but you can pick wherever you want.” She handed you a copy of the book, then spoke to Mrs. Elle. 

When you looked up at the room, only a handful of people were looking at you, others were texting or reading. Your eyes scanned the seats, spotting one before the color around the boy beside it caught your eye. 

Your brows furrowed. Since coming here you’d seen many colors you hadn’t categorized yet. But this one was different. It was deep purple, with black and red, and even some blues and greens. Normally there was one color, just different shades. Never this many. 

The boy cocked his head to the side and you jumped a bit, realizing you’d been staring. With your head low, you made your way to the seat, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. To distract yourself, you plotted your classes on the little map, and when the bell rang you booked it out of the room. 

The rest of the day was as good as any first day. Lots of stuff to catch up on, lots of new colors to try and match with a supernatural. But the boy from English took up most of your mind. Why did he have so many colors? 

Your mind was racing as the school day drew to a close. The sun on your face felt so nice, and the calm breeze helped slow everything down. It gave you a moment of peace as you scanned the lot for your moms car. Then you saw him. He was at a table with two baby blues, a teal, and a scarlet. They looked like they were in deep conversation. 

There was this weird pull in your gut, and before you could stop yourself you were walking toward them. 

“It’s only taking their skin. Why?” The older looking baby blue said, he looked stressed. They all did. 

The scarlet was running her fingers down a book, biting her lip. 

The teal shrugged. “Maybe it just likes to eat the skin?” 

Little baby blue just stared at her like she was nuts before big baby blue spoke up. “If it did we wouldn’t be finding discarded skin near the freshly skinned bodies.”

Your heart stopped. No. There’s no way. 

“None of them look eaten, and the skin only has a line down their back. It doesn’t make sense. Stiles, has your dad said anything?” 

The boy from English, Stiles, spoke up. “Not really. He said they seemed to have some type of film on them. Like they had been preserved in something.” 

“Skincrawler.” You whispered, your heart pounding in your ears. 

“Y/N?” Stiles asked. They were all looking at you as your eyes widened. 

“I..uh.” You cleared your throat and tried to steady your breath. “Do they have a stab mark at the base of their neck.” They nodded and you were suddenly light headed. 

“Shit,” Stiles jumped up, gently pushing you into his seat. “Guys this is Y/N. She’s in my English class.” 

“What did you call this thing?” Scarlet asked. They were all still looking at you like you were crazy. 

“A skincrawler.” You rubbed your face. “They kill someone and wear their skin.” 

“Fuck.” Little baby blue whispered.

You shook your head. “You’re all safe. They don’t go after other supernaturals.” That earned you an even weirder set of looks. “You two are werewolves.” You nodded at the baby blues. “You’re part werewolf, part something else.” You nodded to teal. “And I’m not sure what you two are.” You said to scarlet and Stiles. 

None of them spoke for a minute. Then big baby blue extended his hand. “I’m Scott McCall.” His eyes were red, such a contrast to his coloring. 

“You’re an alpha.” You shook his hand and he cocked a brow. “I can see your true eyes.” 

His hand slipped from yours, replaced with little baby blue, Liam, then teal, Malia. Scarlets name was Lydia. Then Stiles shook your hand, his grip was firm, and he held it while he spoke. “How did you know what they are?”

“Each supernatural has its own aura, my family is what they call True Seers. I can see the auras around you, and your true eyes. I’m the first in almost a decade so I’m pretty much learning on my own. Which is why I’m not able to identify yours.” You glanced at Stiles, Lydia, and Malia. 

“I’m a Banshee.” Lydia gave you a soft smile then looked back to the book. 

“Werecoyote.” Malia supplied with a shrug. “Both my parents tried to kill me so don’t ask.” 

You looked up at Stiles but he shook his head. “Just your average human here. Which doesn’t seem like a good thing with these skin guys walking around.” 

It didn’t make sense that he wasn’t a supernatural, but there were more pressing things to address. 

“Are these like the skinwalkers? Because I’ve seen them and I don’t think they would do this.” Scott questioned, turning to look at you. 

You shook your head. “No. Walkers are non threatening. The crawlers, as you can tell, aren’t. And they are hard to locate. When they stab the person, not only does it kill them, but it seems to transfer all their memories. So even though it’s still the monster inside. It looks and has the same mannerisms as the person it killed.” 

“How do we stop it?” Malia asked, she looked ready for a fight. 

A shudder ran down your body at the memory of when you last saw this creature. “It’s not easy. First you have to know how many there are. They are stronger packs. Then you have to find out where they are staying. But even harder you have to find out who they are wearing.”

Scott rubbed his face, everyone was looking at him, waiting for his directions. “We need Derick and Argent. Maybe Parish too.” 

“I’ll go to the library and see if I can find anything out.” Lydia said, having no luck with the current book. “Where are we meeting?” 

“The loft, at seven.” Scott turned to you. “Would you come? You seem to know more about them than we do. We could use your help.” 

You glanced around at them. A group of friends who were closer than close. Had clearly been through a lot. “Yeah. Yeah. Just give me the address.” 

“I can pick you up.” Stiles said quickly, stumbling over his words when everyone turned to him. “I mean. It’s kinda hard to get to that first time. It would be easier for someone to give you a ride.” His ears turned pink as Lydia and Malia shared a look. Scott was trying to hold his grin. But Liam was flat out laughing at him. 

Before you could respond a horn honked, followed by your mom calling your name. “Here.” You tore a piece of paper and quickly wrote your address and number down. “Just let me know when you get there.”

As you walked away you could hear the low voices talking at once followed by Stiles. “You guys suck I’m going home.” 

—

You shared everything with your mom on the way home. Even though she wasn’t a true seer, everyone in her family got trained in case it appeared later in life. 

“So this true alpha has a mixed pack?” She asked, dropping the box of books on the table. 

“Yes. There’s definitely a lot of stuff they have been through. I could feel how strong their connection was.” You started thumbing through the first book, your mom following suit with her own. 

“And this Stiles boy, he said he wasn’t supernatural?” 

“Yeah. I can’t even begin to explain the way the colors were around him. It was like someone spilled a bunch of paint. Very chaotic.” You closed the book, having no luck. “I don’t think the book is in here. I think it’s with Buffy.” 

Your mother examined the books, then nodded. “I think so. I’ll give her a call. But you should probably go get it tonight if she has it.”

“Can I take the car?” You asked, slightly excited about getting to go see someone who was pretty much your Aunt but you get to drive. 

Your mom nodded. But before you could say anything your phone vibrated 

  Maybe Stiles: Y/N? It’s Stiles. I’m outside. I think. 

  You: Okay, I'll be out in a sec. 

"Stiles is here." You told your mom as you slipped into your jacket. "Just have Buffy text me if she has the box." You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Love you."

She opened another book. "I will. I'll also keep looking and see if I can find anything. I know there was something in one of the books last time, I just have to remember which one. And I love you too. Be safe."

You slipped your bad over your shoulder and headed out where a blue jeep was waiting. Stiles was in the front seat tapping his fingers and singing to whatever was playing. He was wearing a maroon lacrosse hoodie and his hair looked more disheveled than it did at school. His tapping stopped when you opened the door and Should I Stay or Should I Go was playing. His voice died off as he looked at you standing in the door. 

"The Clash? Good choice." You said as the song came to an end, and a new one began. "Oh, and Fleetwood Mac?"

Stiles shrugged, taking your bag for you as you climbed in. "Can never go wrong with some classic rock." 

"That is very true. I think I might like you a bit now Stiles." His colors were dimmer than they had been at school, which was normal, the sun always made them brighter. They were much less distracting this way too. "So, is there anything I should know before we get to this mystery loft?"

"There's a lot you should know. But the drive isn't long enough for everything, so I'll give you the rundown." He pulled the jeep from the curb and started talking. 

He told you who Derek, Argent, and Parrish were and how Scott and Liam turned. But that was about as much as he could get in before pulling into the parking lot of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. So many questions were running through your mind as you looked up at the building. "Funny, a werewolf living in a warehouse."

Stiles laughed, then nodded to the door. "I swear the loft is so much better inside." 

He was right. When he pulled open the huge metal door it revealed a beautiful open space full of natural light and people. Four you had already met, three you had names for but not faces. 

Scott was quick to introduce you to the other three. Derek was obviously a werewolf with his baby blue coloring that matched his eyes. Jordan Parrish was the first human hellhound you've met, and his color was exactly like fire. 

Argent was the only one without a color. "A True Seer?" He asked, shaking your hand. "I've only met one other person with that ability. Welcome to Beacon. Scott said you knew something about these things?" 

"We fought a group of them when I lived in Sunnydale. I know we had some literature on them, my mom is looking through our books, but I think I think they might have gotten left at my Aunt's house. Once I know though I’m heading there to get them.”

Argent nodded, then pointed to the map. “We have a rough pattern. And based on the bodies I think we might be dealing with just one.” 

“What do you know about the people who have been killed?” You asked, noting the four red circles on the map that seemed to form a shape. 

“Not a lot.” Parrish spoke up, opening a file. “All different ages. Different builds. There doesn’t seem to be a pattern here. But we are still searching through their backgrounds. So far the only possibility is they knew each other or went to the local church.” 

You nodded. “They liked to go after people who knew each other. How often are bodies turning up?”

“Every two weeks or so. The last one was the day before yesterday.” Stiles answered, your phone buzzed. 

  Buffy: The books are here. Fill me in on what’s happening. 

  You: I’m coming to you. Be there soon. 

“My Aunt has the books. Is it okay if I take a picture of this? I think I can get some extra help.” You asked nodding to the map. 

"Yeah. The more help we can get the better." Argent said, stepping back as you angled your phone for a picture. 

"Is there anyone missing from the school?" Derek asked, looking at the others. 

Lydia shrugged. "Not sure yet. There were a few people out today, but they could have just been normal reasons. I'm keeping an eye on everything." 

"We couldn't get a scent from the body." Malia added, giving a shudder. "I think I might have nightmares for weeks."

“I didn’t see anyone there with the color for them. It’s kind of a deep grey color. Even when they switch skins the color is still there.” You looked at Stiles, his brows were pinched and he was working his thumb with his teeth as he looked at the map. "Hey," you whispered as the others discussed the body. "Could you drive me home. Buffy has the books so I need to get to Sunnydale." 

His brown eyes met yours, the concentration making him look adorable. "Huh? Oh, yeah." He looked up at the others. "Guys, I'm going to take Y/N home so she can go get the books." 

After some quick goodbyes the two of you made your way back to the jeep. 

"If you want, I can take you there?" Stiles said, his hand was rubbing at the back of his neck. 

You stopped and looked at him. "To Sunnydale?" 

"Yeah. It's late, and well, I'd feel safer away from here." He shrugged. "Plus it's late." 

"You said that." You laughed. "If you want to drive me that's alright." 

"Awesome." He jumped in the jeep, waited for you to get in and buckled, then looked over at you. "So, how do I get to Sunnydale?"

------

"Okay, wait. Like, a full, legit deadpool?" The two of you were almost there, and Stiles had started filling you in on everything they had experienced. 

"Yes. That's how we found out that Parrish was supernatural. He was on the list. Peter, is the one who put the list out. He used another banshee to set it all up."

"So, if I ever meet Peter can I punch him?" Even though you'd just met this group you felt oddly protective of them.

"He is kinda neutral right now, but honestly, go for it." He winked at you. "So is there anything I should know before we get there?"

"Well, yes. Buffy isn't really my aunt, but she feels like one. She's the slayer. Spike might be there, he's a vampire. Willow, she's like my other aunt, she's a witch." Excitement started building as you saw the sign for the exit.

He was silent for a moment, then he said slowly. "Vampire?"

"He won't try anything. He knows I can take him, but also he's fairly harmless." 

Stiles rubbed his lips. "Vampire." 

"Yes. Turn left up here." You said. He followed your directions, eventually pulling in front of the house you spent much of your childhood. "You okay?"

"Uh. Yeah. I'm still processing I think." 

You placed your hand on his arm. "I promise you it'll be fine. But if you want, you can stay in the car." 

He shook his head, removing the keys. "Lets go." 

All the lights were on as you made your way to the house, Spike was standing in the open door. 

"Hello, Little Bit." His British accent was familiar and a sudden wave of homesickness hit you. 

You ignored it though, rolling our eyes. "Shut it you loof. The skin crawlers are back, we don't have time for your shit." 

He placed a hand on his chest. "Your words wound, missy." His eyes traveled behind you. "Who's the bloke?"

"Spike, Stiles. Stiles, Spike.” You pointed at Spike. "Be nice."  You grabbed Stiles' hand and led him into the house, avoiding Spike's attempt to ruffle your hair. The others were already waiting in the dining room. 

You quickly introduced Stiles to everyone. Then jumped right into what you knew. 

“I went by the crypt.” Spike said after you’d told them the last of the information. “It didn’t look like anything escaped. Place is still rubble.”

“Wait.” Stiles leaned his elbows on the table.  “How exactly did you guys kill these things last time?”

“Blew them up.” Willow shrugged, flipping through a book. 

Stiles fell back into his chair and looked at you. “Blew them up?” 

“Buf has army connections so we were able to… acquire some top grade stuff.” You told him. You could tell he was trying to process all of this, he was really cute. 

“Argent might have some connections.” He nodded as if he was coming up with a plan. 

You let him be and flipped open a book, your heart immediately stopping. Before saying anything you looked back at one of the pictures you had taken. 

“Shit. Shit shit shit.” You dragged your finger down the page as you read. “This is bad.” Everyone was looking at you as you pointed to the diagram in the book. “A resurrection ritual.”

“Bloody hell.” Spike said, jumping from his chair, heading straight to the little bar table. 

Willow paled, pulling the book to her and muttered something under her breath. 

“Uh. That doesn’t seem like a good thing.” Stiles said. 

You turned to him, your heart was pounding. “The skincrawler is doing a resurrection ritual. Basically it’s trying to bring something back from the dead. Probably the ones we killed.” 

“Okay that sounds really bad.” 

“It says here it has to make five sacrifices around a power source.” Willow said. “But it’s not doing it over the Hellmouth so what’s in Beacon Hills?” She looked over at Stiles. You opened the picture of the map, examining it closer, trying to find the pattern. 

“The Nemeton.” He whispered, struggling to get his phone out of his pocket. After pressing around there was the trill of a call. 

“Stiles? It’s late.” Argents' gruff voice filled the room. 

“I know I know. Listen. I need you to go to that map. I need you to go to it and tell me what’s in the middle of those points.”

“A star!” You shouted. “They need five points. There are four on here. If you trace a star you can find the next dump site and the middle.” 

There was rustling on the phone, then, “Shit.” 

“It’s The Nemeton isn’t it?” 

“Yeah. It’s The Nemeton.” There was some more noise from the other side of the phone. “I’ve got a rough guess where the next dump site will be. I’ll tell the others.” 

“So The Nemeton is a real thing?” Willow asked, amazement all over her face. 

You raised your hand. “Excuse me, what is that?” 

“Short version? A supernatural ritual site created by Druids. It’s what makes Beacon Hills a beacon for the supernatural.” 

“I thought they were a myth.” Willows eyes were dazed as she zoned out. 

“So you’re telling me I moved from the demon hotspot Hellmouth to the literal beacon for the supernatural? Unbelievable.” 

"It's very real. Sometime I'll tell you the story of how it awoke and got so much power. But right now we need to get back." He looked incredibly worried. 

"It's late." Buffy said, she and Spike had been talking in the corner quietly. "You guys should stay here and sleep for a few hours before driving back."

Spike nodded. "I agree, Little Bit. There's still a few days till you should really worry. Sleep a bit and head out at sunrise."

As he spoke, you could feel the exhaustion suddenly weighing on your body. "He's right. Let the others scope out some stuff while we catch some shut eye." 

"Your room is still made up. Go sleep and I'll make you guys breakfast in the morning." 

You nodded, and silently led Stiles up the steps. He’d been quiet, worry was all over his face. He sat down in the desk chair, lip between his teeth. 

“They will be okay.” You said softly, moving the pillows off the bed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. We defeated them once, we can do it again. Really Argent is the only one to worry about there, he’s not a supernatural. Plus they are very time oriented. They stick to the same schedule when it comes to changing.” 

After a moment he spoke again. “Uh. Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” 

There wasn’t much space in the small room so you shook your head. “You can sleep in the bed. You’re driving so better rest is safer.”

The two of you were quiet as you took turns in the bathroom, then getting situated in the bed. 

“Ya know,” you said after a few minutes in the dark. “If you had told me that on my first day of another new school I’d meet more supernaturals, find out the skincrawlers are back, and share a bed with a guy I just met that morning. I’d think you were crazy.” 

“I’ve learned to just ride out the crazy. Trust me, it’s easier to do that than to try and fight it.” His head turned toward you, voice  just above a whisper. “Why did you seem so freaked about the skincrawlers?”

You were suddenly very thankful for the dark. “They got one of my best friends. It was how we found out about them actually. She went missing for a day or so and when she came back she had this Grey color around her that hadn’t been there before. And her eyes seemed empty. Like everything about her was still her. But her eyes.” A shudder ran through you. “It used the knowledge from her to taunt us, me. Things got ugly. The boom.” You wiped the tear off your cheek, turning to see his silhouette in the dark. “If it’s just one, and we get it before it completes the ritual, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m...I’m so sorry, Y/N.” 

“It’s fine. I have faith in us. With the information we take back, it’ll help. Let’s get some sleep though.” Even though you said it, you stayed awake long after Stiles' breath evened out. Images of your last run in with these nasty things running through your mind. There was no peaceful sleep. 

[shsl-otaku]

Where Greed Goes, Despair Follows: Chp. 15

Y/N: Raven Sin of Despair

Pairing: Ban & Y/N

Anime: Seven Deadly Sins

Genre: Adventure, Romance

Warnings: ⚠️Possible references to abuse⚠️

Tag List: @asgleo16 @yuri-2018 @vialuciferscage @commanderawkward @chidayasays @misfitgirlwrites @amberfoxcosplay @catlover7722 @shiggi-trash @supremetodoroki @happynoodle @remikay313 @milkysamu @kageyamis @yogurthdecoco @alysplxnet

•••

"Sir Meliodas, why isn’t Y/N with us?" Elizabeth asked, looking around.

Meliodas looked at the green crystals surrounding them. "Not sure," he replied. "At first I thought that she might’ve found a way to get here before us, but now I’m pretty sure that’s not the case."

He turned to look at Ban. "Ban, you were with her last. Did you see where she went?"

Ban shrugged. "Don’t know. She stormed off after you interfered with my fight with King. She’s been acting weird all day."

"I don’t like this," Diane said. “We should’ve gone to look for her. She could be in trouble!”

"She’s tough, Diane. She’ll be fine," Meliodas said. He furrowed his brows. "I do think we should’ve gone to check on her first to let her know that we were going to the Necropolis though."

"I hope she’s not hurt," Elizabeth said.

"Knowing her, she’d probably be the one causes the hurting," Hawk said, trotting next to Elizabeth.

"Hawk," Elizabeth scolded.

Ban’s mind wandered to the memory of your face when he and King were fighting. The expression of betrayal and pain etched on your face. The tears streaming down your face. He felt slight guilt for not doing anything, but also a surge of anger wash over him. Not towards you, but towards King for hurting you like that.

And the fact that King ignored you when you were clearing hurting because of him, then proceeded to fly away as if he didn’t cause you to have an attack infuriated Ban. Ban scowled and looked off to the side, only for something to catch his eye.

His eyes widened when he saw a small, white-dress figure with yellow hair. "Elaine...?" The figure started floating away, making Ban’s heart feel heavy in his chest. He started running after her, leaving Meliodas, Elizabeth, Hawk, and Diane behind.

"Ban," Diane yelled, watching him run off.

"Hold it," King yelled, flying after him.

"King?" Meliodas exclaimed, looking at King fly after Ban.

"That’s King?" Elizabeth asked.

"What the hell," Hawk grumbled.

"Captain, what do we do?" Diane said.

"I guess we run after them for now," Meliodas replied.

They continued walking on the large crystal, yelling out Ban and King’s names.

"Sheesh, where did those two run off to?" Diane grumbled. “I miss Y/N.”

Meliodas suddenly stopped abruptly, making Elizabeth bump into him.

"Sir Meliodas?" She asked.

"We’re not alone," he said, looking around. Elizabeth held onto Meliodas tighter.

"I-I only see us," she said. "Maybe Y/N was able to enter the Necropolis?" Meliodas stayed silent.

"I haven’t seen a ghost here either," Hawk added. Hawk and Elizabeth shivered.

"Let’s keep going," Hawk said quickly.

"Good idea," Elizabeth replied.

They kept walking, their surroundings looking the same despite how far they walked.

"There’s no sign of them," Diane said, looking over the miles and miles of green crystals.

"Maybe they went back to the real world?" Hawk suggested. He gasped when he saw a figure standing before them.

"Who’s that?" Diane whispered, looking at the woman who stood before them.

"How do you do, Meliodas the Dragon Sin? Diane the Serpent Sin?" She asked in a fake polite tone. "My name is Holy Knight Guila."

"How did you get here?" Hawk whimpered.

Guila smiled. "By dying."

•••

My parents were hypocritical, delusional pieces of shit.

My mother was so convinced that she was doing the right thing that she failed to realize that she was only causing me pain. And when she was aware that what she was doing wrong, she somehow managed to make it seem like I was causing her pain.

"Irresponsible." That's the word she drilled into my mind after calling me that night after night. I was a child. A child who made a normal, everyday mistake. But apparently mistakes were unacceptable in her standards.

She would remind me of my mistake and the consequences that would come with it. "No matter how much you cry or beg, I will ship you out of this village." My own mother threatened to ship out her ten-year-old daughter for making a mistake. That sentence was the first time I looked at her with terrified eyes. It wasn't the last.

My father wasn't any better. He was a hypocritical man who was an example of everything he told me not to be. A father is supposed to raise and protect his daughter and yet mine treated me like shit. I was never allowed to be upset or angry with my parents. They were allowed to take out their anger and frustration on me whenever they pleased.

My father had a rough childhood. It's kind of sad that he became what he promised himself he would never turn into. But then again, that doesn't excuse what he did to me for so many years. Not only that, but he and my mother use it to invalidate my own experiences whenever I told them. I got tired of it so I stopped trying to talk to them entirely.

Both parents seemed to never really let me make choices that were meant to be mine. They seemed to use me for things that they never got as a child. They expected me to be grateful for those opportunities but then got angry at me for not being passionate about them.

They claimed I was talented and needed to perfect my talent. I knew it was just because I had to learn what they wanted. I wasn't interested. I couldn't be passionate about something when it wasn't even something I wanted to be part of.

Isn't that just sad? The two people who were supposed to care and love me the most ended up causing me pain and suffering. How pathetic. They never fail to disappoint me, even in death.

•••

Your eyes flashed open and you gasped for air. You touched the corners of your eyes and sighed in relief feeling that no tears fell. You took a shaky breath. You just went through those memories all over again as if they were happening right now.

You quickly scanned your surroundings to see that you were in what appeared to be a field of large green crystals. Your eyes widened in realization. "Precious memories shared with the dead will guide you to the capital." You were in the Necropolis.

You sighed in annoyance. 'I wouldn’t call those memories or those people "precious,"' you thought to yourself.

You looked over yourself to see that you were slightly transparent, almost as if you were a ghost. Color was returning to you, but very slowly. You shook your head. 'That must’ve been an unstable way to enter this place,' you thought.

Your eyes widened when you remembered what you came here for. 'That Holy Knight—she’s here for them!'

Almost as if on que, you heard explosions in the distance, causing the ground to shake. You snarled and started running towards where you heard the explosion, hoping that you would be ready physically in time.

You sprinted for what seemed like hours, your only source of direction being the loud explosions that rang in the air. Green crystals passed by, looking exactly identical to the ones you passed before. You finally heard voices yelling. You recognized them as Diane and Meliodas.

Your eyes widened in hope, until you heard Diane cry out and what sounded like her falling down. Anger and worry flickered in your heart, making you falter, until you started sprinting towards the sounds again. 'I have to get to them,' you thought to yourself, right eye glowing red.

•••

Diane winced as she tried to sit up. Her back was forced against a large green crystal. She had bruises everywhere and was bleeding. Meliodas leaned against her leg, pretty beat up as well. Ban sat up from the ground, cuts and blood starting to vanish from his body.

King was having a standoff with Guila, the conflict between him and Ban temporally forgotten after their encounter with Elaine. Guila sent an unexpected explosion to King, his eyes widening in surprise. He braced himself to get hit, only for it to never come.

He looked up in surprise. There was nothing there. Guila gasped. "What?! How—?!"

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around the back of her throat, causing her to let out a strangled gasp. Ban, King, and Diane’s eyes widened.

You stood behind Guila, your hand wrapped around her throat. Your h/c hair floated in a halo behind you, your e/c and red eyes glowing brightly. You smiled maliciously, a red aura surrounding you.

She was petrified. Literally. You slowly dragged your sharpened nails on her chest from behind, tearing through her armor. She tried to breathe, only for you to squeeze her neck tighter.

You laughed, the sound soft and full of malice. She struggled to say something, only for you to squeeze her throat tighter. She saw your blood red eye gleaming and was truly terrified.

You rested your chin on her shoulder, smirking in amusement.

"Ĥ̴͉̓̓͠͝e̸̱̔̃́͐̿y̵̥͇͋,̶̢̨̘͓̣̑̆͆ ̵͉̱̥̄̿G̶̢̤̩̱̓̾͗̽͝ư̶͇̝î̵͉͔͓̱l̶̼̞͇͕̎̉̓͘a̵͑̃͋̆��̝̪̱~̴̻̻̦̄̒"

[cheemers-writing-archive]

Crusader of Life 2: Chapter 21

“Did I just hear you correctly?” Jotaro asked.

Kakyoin nodded. His face had gone pale, and his eyes looked past the material world. “Kira just blew him up. Okuyasu is really dead.”

“Hey, snap out of it,” Jotaro shook Kakyoin lightly. “What’s going on now?”

Kakyoin blinked, and he returned to reality, although his expression didn’t change much. “Right,” he muttered. “There’s a weird bubble floating towards Josuke. It’s not going fast at all, so he should be able to escape it. But… he’s not moving.”

“What?” Koichi asked. “No, Josuke would be fighting for Okuyasu now, wouldn’t he?”

“You would think that,” Kakyoin replied. “But he’s just standing where Okuyasu was. The bubble is slowly approaching him, and he doesn’t even notice! I’m going to need to step in!”

At the fighting scene, Hierophant jumped out from under the ground. He grabbed onto the bubble and pulled it away from Josuke as much as he could.

Kira was taken aback a little bit, before his lips formed into a smile. “Well, you weren’t my original target, but you’re much more of a menace to me than Higashikata,” he said. “I guess taking you out will be better.”

Hierophant heard a click from the bubble, and saw a bright light emerge from it. Back at the store, Kakyoin shouted, “Emily, cover your eyes!”

In an instant, Kakyoin’s chest burst open, and blood splattered everywhere. He fell straight to the ground with eyes closed.

“Kakyoin!” everyone yelled.

“Mr. Kakyoin!” Josuke cried out. Hierophant laid on the ground, but its usually bright green body was dull and flickering, and its chest was wide open. Josuke ran over and summoned Crazy Diamond, placing the Stand’s hands on Hierophant’s shoulders. Its body went back to normal for a split second before disappearing entirely.

Now, Josuke remembered. Right now, he had no time to mourn. If he allowed himself to be killed, then millions more would die by Kira’s hands. “Don’t worry, Okuyasu,” Josuke whispered to himself. “I’ll make sure your sacrifice was worth it.”

“Can I look now?” Emily asked.

“Not yet,” Jotaro said, in the calmest voice he could muster.

“Wait,” Koichi said. He pointed at Kakyoin with a smile. “His chest is forming back!”

Everyone looked, and sure enough, Kakyoin’s chest was reforming. However, the man wasn’t getting back up.

“Can I look now?” Emily asked again.

Jotaro pressed his ear to Kakyoin’s chest. “He still has a heartbeat,” he said. “Yes, Emily, you can open your eyes.”

Emily opened them up, and looked down at her father, completely unconscious. “What happened?”

“He just got hurt a little,” Koichi reassured the little girl. “He’ll be fine, though, don’t worry.”

“Well, there goes our plan,” Rohan groaned. “Now what?”

“There’s not much else we can do except go and look for that bastard until we find him,” Jotaro shrugged.

“Bas… tard?” Emily repeated. “What does bastard mean?”

Everyone went silent. Jotaro let out a very quiet “Shit.”

Unfortunately, Emily heard that, too. “Shit?”

“Rohan, I give you permission to write in one more thing for Emily,” Jotaro said. “Make her unable to swear.”

“I’m on it,” Rohan nodded.

“Now, then,” Jotaro continued. “None of us know what Kawajiri looks like, so Hayato will have to come with us. Rohan, take Kakyoin somewhere safe, and wait until he wakes up. And Emily can join our group. Her Stand could help us, and I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

“Daddy, wake up!” Emily crawled on top of the man and opened up his eyelids. “You don’t sleep in the store,” she giggled.

“Rohan will wake him up,” Koichi nudged Emily, who looked back at the boy with a confused face. “Come on, you can come help us catch a bad guy!”

Emily went wide-eyed, giving a huge smile. “Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Bad guy! Bad guy!”

Jotaro lifted the girl on his shoulders, then gave one last glance at Rohan and Kakyoin before they all exited the store and split apart.

“So, how should we go about trying to find this guy?” Koichi asked.

“I say that we go where Kakyoin saw him last, then split up and search for him from there,” Jotaro answered. “I’ll take Emily with me, and you take Haya-”

As Jotaro was about to finish, a huge explosion came from a house not far from where they were before.

“New plan,” Jotaro said. “We go where the explosions are.”

***

Josuke was at his limit. He could barely breathe, let alone fight, and a bubble-bomb was inching closer and closer to him. He could move, but his speed would be slower than the bubble, and it would catch up to him eventually. The only thing he could do was watch as death slowly approached him.

That is, until the bubble changed course. It started going in the opposite direction, and it had a different aura surrounding it. The same aura Josuke felt come from Walking on Sunshine.

The boy looked back at Kira, who was clearly surprised.

“Why isn’t Killer Queen sending the bomb towards Josuke?” Kira muttered to himself. As he asked that question, the bubble suddenly stopped, and Stray Cat started to float up and out of Killer Queen’s belly, straight into the hands of a girl with a hair color Kira couldn’t forget.

Stray Cat did not take kindly to being suspended in the air. It hissed and wiggled around, throwing air bubbles wherever it could. But the minute it landed into the hands of a human, it felt a soft pet on the top of its head. The creature started purring, and rubbing its face on the arm of the one holding him.

“That tickles!” Emily laughed. “I wanna keep him!”

“You can talk about that with your dad later,” Jotaro said. “Can you focus on the bubble again?”

Looking back at the scene, Emily noticed the bubble was moving towards Josuke again. She quickly grabbed a hold of it with Sunshine, and started to send it back to Kira. The man looked back at Emily with a glare, then closed his thumb to his fist, setting the bomb off right between him and Josuke. Once the dust cleared, Kira started walking swiftly towards Josuke, with Killer Queen reaching out its hand. Josuke tried to run, but the damage he took made him stumble and fall.

“No!” Emily shouted. “Stay away!” She took hold of Kira, then violently flung him back and into the streets. By that time, ambulances and fire trucks had appeared at the scene, alerted by the explosion from the house.

“Are you alright?” one of the nurses asked Kira. She reached out her hand, and the man grabbed a hold of it. The nurse was now a bomb.

As Kira told the woman all about his past, Hayato explained how Bites the Dust worked. Once Jotaro had the idea of what it did, he set Emily down before running to the man that had caused all this trouble.

“No, this is the limit!” Kira yelled. He had his hand closed into a fist with his thumb protruding. “I’m going to reset this day once again!” He went to close down his thumb, but before he could, Echoes Act Three made his hand extremely heavy, which broke apart the fist. Jotaro stopped time and broke Kira’s hand, as well as a few other body parts, as well. Then, before anyone could react, an ambulance rolled backwards, straight over Kira’s head. Josuke covered Emily’s eyes as he realized what was going to happen.

Everyone was stunned. The killer they had been trying to catch for so long, and he died from an accident.

“So… that’s it?” Koichi asked. As Josuke was receiving medical attention, he was carrying Emily away from the scene.

“I suppose so,” Jotaro shrugged. In the distance, he noticed two figures that were very familiar; one had green hair, the other had red.

“Daddy!” Emily cried out. She let go of Koichi’s hand and ran over to Kakyoin, who looked away from Rohan before letting a wide grin take over.

“Emily!” he laughed. He bent down to the ground and scooped her up, twirling her around in the air before examining her face. “Are you alright? Did you get hurt? What happened?”

“She’s fine, thanks to all of us,” Jotaro said while walking up. “And thanks to her, Josuke is still alive.”

“I heard from a good account that you allowed Emily to join your group, even though I asked that she wasn’t allowed to.” Kakyoin glared over at his friend.

Jotaro held his hands to his side. “Go on. Punch me, if it’ll make you feel better. I don’t regret taking her.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Kakyoin waved his hand in the air. “She’s completely safe. That’s all I need to know.”

At the hotel, Kakyoin and Emily started putting their things in their luggage bags again. Kakyoin teared up a bit as he put up Lily’s luggage for her. He wasn’t willing to sell anything yet, because he hoped that Emily might like some of the clothing in there.

“Daddy, I’m packed up,” Emily said. “Do we have to go?”

“I’m sorry, but we do.” Kakyoin rubbed the little girl’s head and lifted her up. “It won’t be so bad. I’m sure you’ll see Morioh again one day.”

Emily nodded her head and said nothing more.

At the dock, Josuke, Rohan, Okuyasu, Koichi, Joseph, and Jotaro were waiting for Kakyoin and Emily so they could say their last goodbyes.

“Aw, I wish you didn’t have to go, Emily,” Josuke said. “Keep your city safe for me, okay?”

“Make sure to pay attention in school so you don’t end up like me,” Okuyasu added.

“And please make sure not to go crazy over a boy,” Koichi asked. “I promise none of us are that great.”

Emily nodded her head through tears, but Walking on Sunshine didn’t activate. “Bye bye, everyone!” she cried as she was taken up into the boat.

“She’s learning,” Jotaro said quietly to Kakyoin. A faint smile formed across his face.

“Goodbye, everyone!” Kakyoin called out. “Stay safe!”

As the boat got further and further away, Kakyoin could’ve sworn he saw a golden silhouette of Lily waving from the shore. He rubbed his eyes, and she was gone. It was probably just the sun glaring the right way, he decided.

Besides, even if she was there, at least she would be living with some of the best people she knew. And now that Kira was gone, the little town of Morioh was safe once again.

End of Diamond is Unbreakable

[inkribbon796]

It’s Not Rabies, It’s . . . Ch. 1

Summary: There was an old phrase that the Jims believed in wholeheartedly: “If I cannot find trouble, I will create it.”

Or: King gets a crash course in parenting in the weirdest way possible.

A/N: This was a suggestion-request from the anon NightFall on AO3. Which resulted in this story and since this one was getting a bit long it inspired a bit for the Visitation Day on Sunday which will be a lot less angsty.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chapter 1: I’m Sorry, You’re Dying

It was another slow day in the city, typical city crime mixed with the fact that Anti was busy stalking Henrik and Remus had a bout of food poisoning. So not a lot of bot supervillain crime was being done.

That mixed with over two feet of snow kept a good number of people indoors. King especially didn’t want to deal with Dark mother henning him, was sitting in the main common room of the heroes’ base next to Yancy. He was communicating with a couple of people on his phone.

But because there wasn’t anything big happening in town, the Jims were bored. And bored Jims led to only one thing: trouble.

There was an old phrase that the Jims believed in wholeheartedly: “If I cannot find trouble, I will create it.”

It was a surprise when RJ and CJ came bursting into the room with Marvin hot on their heels. None of the other heroes had even seen them come into the base, but that was nothing new.

“Hey dumbasses, let’s not play with cursed shit,” Marvin ordered.

“Look out Jim, I’ve got a stabby,” RJ held up the spike in his hands, the thing looked like it was made of stone with some runes carved into the side of it.

And what would happen next would become the single most preventable accident that had happened in the base for the past seven years.

King and Yancy were used to sudden bursts of noise. Between Wil and their siblings, King especially was good at tuning out background “white noise” as King called.

So King hadn’t even realized the Jims had run in, hadn’t seen RJ get closer until he accidentally stepped on his cape. King startled, pulling on the cape as he rushed to stand and scurry away from the Jims.

But it wasn’t fast enough, RJ tripped and slammed into King. In actuality RJ just tapped him with the thing but as if it was triggered to go off, the center of the spike detached and violently stabbed into King’s chest and punctured all the way until there was about an inch sticking out the other side.

RJ and King looked at the spike in horror and then at each other before King slumped to the ground like a marionette with its strings up.

Instantly the other heroes rushed to King’s aid. Marvin doing his best to stabilize him, fearful of taking the spike out without killing him. He wasn’t moving, the young man was barely breathing.

It was so bad Iplier thought he was already dead when he checked for a pulse.

Iplier stared at King in shock. “His heart’s still beating.”

“Vat?” Henrik asked in surprise. He was in the room already preparing for the postmortem surgery to remove the spike.

“He’s not dead so we need to work fast,” Iplier realized, calling in for anesthesia and all kinds of help.

They worked quickly to stabilize King’s condition and eventually pull the spike out. Marvin and the Host, or just the Host because he quickly pushed Marvin out of the room, helping to make sure there wasn’t a magical infection of some kind.

When King woke up, his chest was killing him. “Ughhhh.”

Scratch that. It felt like he was hit by a truck, died, was drop kicked out of Heaven, and sent back to Earth. Everything hurt.

“Congrats,” Iplier started. “You are no longer dying.”

“Fucking thanks, I guess,” King groaned.

“I take it you’d like a higher dose of morphine,” Iplier asked.

“Pllllleeeeease!” King groaned.

That got a slight chuckle out of Iplier.

The next week was absolute hell. The first two days after he got out of the hospital he was fine. He tried to take it easy around the park. He didn’t want to overexert himself and damage his heart again. But after that second day he had a constant shrilling migraine. It hurt to be outside, hearing people talk felt like his brain was being stabbed. He felt too exhausted to move, he couldn’t even think about eating without wanting to throw up.

Virgil was the one who found him on that absolutely dreadful third day, shaking on his floor.

Iplier was called back in and King went right back to the hospital. His heart was fine and thanks to the Host he hadn’t even gotten scars.

After checking his symptoms, Iplier got worried and furious. He proclaimed it to be rabies, something he’d warned King about since day one.

King didn’t remember being bitten, but knew it could have happened literally at any moment he’d been outside.

For a week, since he’d been stabbed, he lay on a hospital bed, 100% certain that he was going to die in an agonizingly slow fashion.

Then one night, while Yancy had fallen asleep watching over him, King went to sleep. He began having a weird dream where he was walking through a field and came across a dismantled house. The only thing left standing apart from the frame was a single interior wall and a mirror.

The young man looked at the mirror, shrinking back from the mangled, hideous image he saw . . .

And then he was awake. His headache, gone.

It was euphoric.

All the pain he’d felt in his body had simply vanished. He wondered if he’d died, looking over to see Yancy still slumped uncomfortably in a hospital chair.

King was about to call out to him, to ask if he had died, when something in his bed bit him.

He screamed in pain, almost throwing himself out of the bed. Yancy startled awake.

There was something in King’s bed, still under the sheets. It was about the size of a wiffle ball and it was making little growling noises.

The young man threw off the covers and he saw that there was a drawing pressed flat to the bed, and it was moving, as if King had trapped something under a cup and then lifted it to get a better look, allowing it to escape.

Darting quickly the figure moved along any connected surface, hitting the wall and moving around. As if the figure was frantically searching for something.

“What is that?” Yancy demanded.

“I don’t know,” King admitted.

The Host chuckled, suddenly appearing in the room, he was careful not to use the door, “Yancy and the King of the Squirrels should greet the newest member of their family.”

“How’s that thing ours family?”[1] Yancy demanded.

The Host reached up and the figure particulate jumped him and the chittering, echoing scream died down as it just started devouring the Host’s aura. Which would have been a problem if they weren’t doing the equivalent of using a thimble to drink out of an ocean.

The Host had a smile on his face. “They have a diet that consists primarily of aura but in a couple months they should be on solid food. And they are King’s child.”

“My what?” King screamed. “I can’t have kids, not on my own, and I can’t have them in a day.”

“The King of the Squirrels was hit by a soul splitter. Normally a soul splitter would kill a human, or splinter them, but the King of the Squirrels is lucky that he was not human. So the soul splitter merely snapped off a portion of the King of Squirrels’s soul to create his child.”

“So they’re a part of me,” King asked, hesitantly reaching out his hand and the figure snapped onto King’s hand. He felt a tingling as the figure began trying to consume his aura before standing calmly on King’s shoulder. “You got your own name little buddy?”

“Lunky,” the Host introduced.

“Lunky?” King smiled, the figure turning to look at him. It almost sounded like they were purring. “That right or is Uncle Host playing a joke on me?”

Lunky went back to exploring the room. Now that there was no danger, reality clouded around King’s mind.

“What am I going to do?” King panicked a little bit. “I can’t take care of a kid! I can barely take care of myself.”

“Youse[2] got this,” Yancy reassured. “Youse are the most responsible ‘a all’a us.”[3]

King did feel a little better but at that moment Dr. Iplier walked in and saw all of them standing up.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Iplier demanded, leaving the door open. It was an action that immediately caught Lunky’s attention as they realized there was a world beyond the four walls they were in.

“Surprise, I’m not dying anymore?” King tried.

“Ahh, Iplier has made a mistake,” the Host grinned as Lunky’s figure stretched vertically and grabbed onto the door.

“Oh no!” King realized, as Lunky was already speeding along the walls, looking for aura to eat. They were following an old trail that Anti had left a couple hours ago, following it to Henrik’s office before doubling back and slipping through the sliding front door that activated as Lunky neared them. And with that he had escaped the hospital before Yancy could make it down the hall to look for them, cursing as he went.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. How is that thing our family?

2. You’ve

3. You’re the most responsible out of all of us.

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 4

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 8.5k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, ehhh lots of angst and fighting oh nooo, and mentions of sexual acts

the plot thickens and there’s no actual smut in this part i’m sorrryyyyyy but more smut is coming!! i pinky pwomise uwu

-------

"Morning, jagiya. Do you have a minute?"

You're practically vibrating with the effort of acting normal as you process Taehyung's question. What can you even say to that? Oh, sorry. Actually, can you guys come back later? I'm kind of in the middle of discovering a secret fucking society of PhysComs who are dating their clients, and I'm trying to see if there's a way I can get in on that sweet, sweet deal. Fuck no. That's not going to work. Anything other than agreeing will sound too suspicious, and you can’t let them know what you’ve discovered. At least, not yet.

"Of course." You paste on a smile as you reply, your mind still reeling as you pull the door open all the way. You’re still wearing only your robe, but it’s silly of you to shield your body when it’s theirs to ogle during work hours anyway.

“What can I do for you, masters?” You ask sweetly, slipping on your persona like a second skin to keep your thoughts safely hidden from view. Your clients should always be your first priority. Not rule breaking, and certainly not any unlikely fantasies of romance.

Something seems off about their body language. They look uncomfortable. You’re suddenly reminded of the weird tension in the air when you last saw them, and just how fragile your position is after everything that happened last night. You need to rid their minds of what they saw at dinner. They need to view you as their eager little toy again, not someone who broke or someone to be pitied.

You instantly thicken the illusion of obscenity, eager to convince them, and maybe yourself, that things are just the same as they’ve always been.

“So… what would you like from me? A blow job? Hand job?” You stretch your arm up and lean sensually against the door, your eyes half-lidded. “Do you both want to fuck my little holes and stretch me open?” You giggle cutely and start to untie the silky belt of your robe, forcing all thoughts of your ComGear out of your head so you can focus on your job, which is pleasuring your clients. 

Jimin steps forward before you can pull the robe open, and stops your hand. He carefully ties your garment back together, though he avoids your eyes, his expression grim. “No… actually, we want to talk with you.”

Damn. You thought for sure that little ploy would at least fluster them a little, and maybe get them in the mood for something, but they both remain strangely sober.

“It’s about last night,” Taehyung supplies quietly, looking down to the floor.

Well, shit. What is there to talk about? You used your safe word and ruined everyone’s fun. Are they holding it against you or something? That's not really fair when the two of them are partially to blame for distracting you by playing mind games and messing with each other. 

Then it dawns on you. Namjoon probably sent them up to apologize for their fighting. That must be why they’re acting so stiff. After all, he did say that the three of you should work things out together.

You feel a bit relieved and give them a fleeting smile of reassurance. “Masters, it’s okay. Let’s just move on from what happened last night, hm?” You want to take their hands, but you resist the urge. You really shouldn’t initiate contact unless it’s related to their pleasure. You settle for lacing your hands coyly behind your back, making your chest stand out rather provocatively. “I’ve forgotten all about it, really.”

They both still look dreadful. Worried. You finally notice that there's a hint of pity in their eyes and it makes your skin crawl with foreboding. You get the terrible sense that this is about something bigger than safe words, squabbles, and kisses.

“No, we all want to talk to you,” Taehyung explains with a slight clearing of his throat. “In the kitchen. Namjoon-hyung sent us to… come and get you.”

You can feel your heart start to race as your adrenaline spikes from a sudden shot of fear. What could they possibly want? What's changed between last night and today? Sure, logically, they could be calling a meeting for a variety of reasons, but only one scenario is circling through your mind, over and over… and it ends with you packing your bags.

“Do you want to, like... go now, or...?” Jimin mumbles, clearly uncomfortable about the situation.

You blink, feeling dizzy. Your playful aura has disintegrated in an instant and made way for something much more frigid and fearful. “Yeah… um, let me just get dressed first,” you murmur distractedly. “I’ll be down in a minute, masters.”

They nod and thankfully take the hint that you need a moment to collect yourself. The two of them head back downstairs and you shut the door behind them, your whole body numb. You hurry to your closet, trying to retain some semblance of routine despite the storm you feel approaching.

In the daily rotation of things, Friday - last night - was Seokjin’s day for him to do as he pleases with you, and that includes deciding what you wear. The apron you’d had on yesterday was one he had picked out for you beforehand. Your closet is sectioned off into clothes and costumes chosen by each boy for you to don beneath (or in some cases on top of) your utility belt on their chosen days. Some days they request a specific outfit, but most of the time it’s up to you to select from their options. Your favorite clothes to wear are probably either the oversized hoodies with cute panties and no bottoms that Jungkook chose for you, or the crop top and leggings variations that Hoseok loves to see you wear.

But Saturday is for Yoongi, and today’s outfits are what could be considered party clothes, full of strappy leather harnesses, deep jewel-toned mini dresses, and lots of high heels. Not exactly comfort clothing. You love it when they choose what you wear and dress you up like a little doll, it’s hot and everything, but sometimes you just want to wear sweatpants. Or a t-shirt and jeans.

Fuck. You grab a pair of black booty shorts and a busty sequined halter top, the closest thing to daywear out of Yoongi’s choices, and you also elect to go barefoot. If this meeting is as bad as you fear it’ll be, then you don’t know if you’ll be able to stand upright in six inch heels for very long. Sorry, Yoongi.

You blow a lock of hair out of your eyes after squeezing yourself into the tight attire. Credit to Min Yoongi where it’s due, the top does make your tits look amazing, but honestly that should be the least of your concerns right now. You almost laugh at such a trivial thought.

Once you reach your bed, you hastily grab your ComGear, hoping you have at least a few minutes to figure out something before you’re pulled away again. There’s a backlog of messages, but thankfully not too many, as you log back into the chat room.

[ PCsv02_svt ]: oh where did she go [ PCsv01_svt ]: probably got called away [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: probably havin.. sexy times B) [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: wink wink [ PCsv01_svt ]: … [ PCsv03_mtx ]: guys you shouldn’t encourage her about dating :/ [ PCsv03_mtx ]: bad things can happen too [ PCsv06_ast ]: yea sanha is always nice to me, but I know some clients can be... not so nice [ PCsv09_$px ]: yeah, thanks [ PCsv06_ast ]: oh... sorry :( [ PCsv02_svt ]: aww aashi didn’t mean it like that G [ PCsv02_svt ]: we’re all here for you, u know that right? [ PCsv09_$px ]: mm. thanks guys [ PCsv01_svt ]: speaking of which, how are things with you? [ PCsv09_$px ]: uh.. same as always. [ PCsv01_svt ]: has anything happened since last time? [ PCsv09_$px ]: no, but they’ve been out of the house a lot [ PCsv09_$px ]: they have a lot of schedules right now [ PCsv01_svt ]: I see… [ PCsv02_svt ]: oh she’s back!

You stare at the log in dismay. Well, crap. “Bad things” can happen...? What kind of bad things? Is dating clients a thing or not? You have too many questions and not enough answers, and you don’t have time to investigate any of it. The boys are waiting for you downstairs.

[ PCsv01_bts ]: so… my clients just called a meeting with me. I can’t really talk right now. [ PCsv01_svt ]: a meeting? [ PCsv02_svt ]: that’s okay hon! we’ll still be here when u get back ^^ [ PCsv01_bts ]: this is all…fuck sorry, it’s a lot to deal with right now

You rake a hand through your hair, your body and mind are just completely spent from everything that’s happened recently.

[ PCsv01_svt ]: it’s alright, we’re not going anywhere [ PCsv03_twc ]: take your time to understand everything ♡ [ PCsv03_twc ]: it took me a while haha [ PCsv06_ast ]: we’ve got your back! 150% hehe >u< [ PCsv02_svt ]: yeah! don’t sweat it hon~ be kind to yourself, especially when you need to figure things out ^^

All of their assurance pouring in nearly brings a smile to your face. You don’t know most of these people, and you can’t be sure that they aren’t all just really smart bots or spies sent by your network, but… they do seem like a supportive bunch.

[ PCsv01_bts ]: thanks [ PCsv01_bts ]: but what exactly did micha mean by “bad things can happen”? [ PCsv01_bts ]: is dating even safe? [ PCsv03_mtx ]: oh haha… [ PCsv04_blp ]: safe? Oh honey... [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: lolol [ PCsv03_mtx ]: well I just meant that some PhysComs have been… taken advantage of [ PCsv03_mtx ]: so you can’t just jump into it ^^; [ PCsv01_svt ]: i wouldn’t call anything in this line of work “safe” per se [ PCsv01_svt ]: it’s hard to advise anything when we don’t know what your clients are really like [ PCsv01_svt ]: but if you do manage to enter a relationship it can either make or break your employment [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: hell yeahhhhh B)) [ PCsv01_svt ]: for some people it’s a last ditch effort, offering intimacy to idols who are touch starved to begin with… oftentimes breaking those boundaries will changes the client’s perspective, and soon they see you as essential, regardless of any minor misconducts [ PCsv01_svt ]: while for others, the attachment forms naturally and appears to be a genuine connection, such as with sascha and joshua [ PCsv01_svt ]: but of course there’s no way to tell for sure if the client’s feelings are genuine or if they have ulterior motives, so it’s definitely a risk [ PCsv01_svt ]: if things were to turn sour in the relationship, it could lead to termination or worse… you know, hell hath no fury like a lover scorned and all that [ PCsv01_svt ]: people can be duplicitous [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: durr durrr antione smart smart [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: i’m taking notes on ur lecture sir uwu [ PCsv01_svt ]: blake [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: ^-^? [ PCsv01_svt ]: shut the hell your mouth [ PCsv01_gt7 ]: >:D

You sigh. Reading all these names and trying to keep everyone’s identities straight is making your head spin in your already addled state.

[ PCsv01_bts ]: is there a way to change the contact names in this chat? [ PCsv01_svt ]: nope [ PCsv02_svt ]: sorry boo, it’s for protection ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You groan in frustration. Nothing is making sense, you’ve found no answers, and you still aren’t sure you can even trust this chat room. On a whim, you tap on Sascha’s username, and a contact page pulls up for her within the chat app. It doesn’t give any information besides her username and a blank profile photo, but there is a call button.

Shit, what do you have to lose? If this is real and not some elaborate hoax, then Sascha should pick up… right? You could grill her, ask her questions only she would know to prove it’s really her.

A sudden buzz from your ComGear nearly scares you shitless, and you check to see that it’s just a message from Namjoon.

Sweetheart? Could you come down to the kitchen?

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves. Fuck. You can’t put this meeting off any longer. You slip your ComGear into your belt and head downstairs towards what you’re sure will be your inevitable doom.

-------

On your way down the long staircase, you take deep cleansing breaths to combat the growing knot in your stomach. You’re hoping half-heartedly, albeit rather foolishly, that maybe the boys just need your help with something harmless, like making breakfast. They do love your omelettes.

You slow down as you approach the kitchen door, and you can hear many muffled voices arguing on the other side. It sounds like they’re trying to stay quiet, but failing. You stop to listen, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Just because you got to-” “-not fair-” “I don’t like this-” “-so why should she be punished for-” “I swear it wasn’t-”

Punished? You don’t like the sound of that at all, not one bit. Just as panic starts to swarm your mind, Namjoon’s voice rises above the clamor. You lean against the door to hear his calm cadence, much more gentle than the previous raucous of the others.

"Look! Guys, I know it'll be hard. Okay? I know we've all grown very attached to her, but I think... I think this will be for the best. For all of us."

Fuck his calm cadence.

They must be talking about you, they have to be. You’re the only “her” in this house. You feel like you’re drowning in regret and fear, spiraling as your worries returning tenfold, despite your best effort to keep them at bay.

You’re going to walk through that door and they’re going to fire you, you can feel it. Namjoon’s going to look you in the eyes, and where such tenderness had been last night, now there will only be a steely gaze. It’s just business. You slump against the polished wood and bite back a dry sob, burying your face in your hands. You don’t think you can do this.

“God, you make it sound like she’s dying.” There’s Yoongi’s voice, lilted and matter of fact. “She’s not going anywhere.”

You lift your head. Not going anywhere? As in, not being fired?

Oh, bless Min Yoongi and his slutty sequin tops. But then… if you’re not going anywhere, ergo not getting fired, then what the hell are they talking about?

“Yeah, but what if this thing doesn’t work? What if she doesn’t... want this from us?” Jungkook’s timid question draws silence from the room.

“Then things will go back to normal, right? We just… forget it ever happened.” Jin. He sounds bitter and forlorn, not at all like his usual self.

“How can things be normal after what happened last night?” Hoseok sounds even worse than Jin, his voice choked with emotion. “I don’t think I can even have her as a PhysCom anymore! Something has to change.”

This declaration is met with another bout of overlapping arguments, only to be silenced once again by Namjoon.

“No, Hobi-hyung is right.” Namjoon says, his voice decisive and final. “This is a fork in the road for all of us. At the end of the week, we’ll take another vote. If things don’t improve with her, then… we’ll do what has to be done. There are always other PhysComs who can fill the position.”

What... the fuck…?

Ice crawls up your back, as if someone just dumped you into a freezing pool of water. Numbness seeps through your limbs, into your heart.

Are you really that replaceable in their eyes?

You’ve invested all your time into building bonds with these boys specifically so this wouldn’t happen. How can they be so heartless? It hurts. There’s a wrenching pain in your chest at hearing them talk about you so… so pragmatically.

It hurts because it’s exactly the way that you would handle the situation. With pragmatism.

But you know what? Fuck this. Fuck them. They took a fucking vote on the fate of your livelihood? You owe them nothing.

You’re overwhelmed, and angry, and confused, and you just can’t take it anymore. You want this guessing game to end. If they’re going to fire you, or punish you, or whatever, then you should just go in there and get it over with already. It has to hurt less than hearing them talk about you so callously.

You wait for a break in the conversation, and then ease open the kitchen door, stepping inside and doing your best to keep your expression neutral.

“Oh, there she is! Just the woman we wanted to see.” Namjoon looks up at you with a practiced smile, even though he’d just been rubbing his forehead the way he does when he’s stressed.

“Not for long,” Yoongi mutters, clutching his coffee mug a little too tightly as he takes a sip.

Your gaze flickers to him as quiet, seething anger settles in the pit of your stomach, a burning ache that doesn’t go away. He has the balls to joke about this, when your career is on the line? You’d have thought Mr. Underground Rapper would understand how hard you’ve fought to get here. Does he really feel nothing, sipping his coffee while you face the guillotine?

Namjoon shoots Yoongi a weary look, then comes over to greet you. “Good morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Better?” He cups your cheek, his eyes full of gentle concern.

You nearly flinch away from his touch. How dare he act so kind to you when they were just conspiring about whether you’ll keep your job?

You take a step back, out of range to be touched by any of them.

“What’s going on?” You ask them firmly, deciding not to hide your misgivings. Their eyes all seem to wander elsewhere in the room, Jungkook is staring at the counter in front of him like it’s suddenly become very interesting. Taehyung is looking up at the ceiling as if counting the tiles. Seokjin’s gaze is trained straight ahead into nothing, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Cowards, all of them.

Namjoon takes the initiative and clears his throat. It’s hard to take him seriously when he’s wearing Ryan the Bear pajamas, but you give him your rapt attention. “So, we’ve been discussing things, and after what happened last night… well, it really cemented this for us. It made the decision that much easier.”

Did it? Did it really make it easier for them to fire you after seeing you break down and cry from using your safe word? You half debate throwing a punch at that handsome jaw of his. Might as well go out swinging.

He seems uncomfortable from the severity of your glare. Good, let him be uncomfortable. God knows you’ve put yourself in some uncomfortable positions for them.

“You’ve worked very hard for us since you were hired, and since today marks your official six month anniversary, we think it’s only fitting to end these six months on a good note.”

Oh, how poetic. Come on, just get on with it. Flowery words, especially insincere ones, won’t help you find another job. They won’t help keep you off the street while you struggle to make a living for yourself.

You stare up at him determinedly, your lips pursed as you steel yourself for the blow. You will not cry.

“We want to extend your time off.”

Wait, what?

“Starting tomorrow. It would have been your second day off for this month, but we’d like to extend that to a week off instead.”

They’re not firing you? They’re… rewarding you with vacation time? Doesn’t make sense. Your mind is reeling, trying to figure out the catch.

“You can wear whatever you want, do whatever you’d like.” Namjoon rubs the back of his neck, seemingly thrown off by your wide eyed lack of response. “You’re not obligated to have sex with us…”

Oh. There it is. A sex ban.

Sure, they’ll give you a nice little vacation, free of worries and obligations. What, so they can all play with Secondaries, like Jin did?

Fuck, that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Jin probably told them how good it felt to fuck another cunt and now this is their way of telling you that they want to ‘see other people’, isn’t it?

This is worse than firing you outright. They’re killing you slowly, stabbing you in the gut to watch you bleed out, like a wounded animal in the desert.

Your vision is red, rage stemming from fear and insecurity building up inside of you faster than you can comprehend.

“So you’re suspending me?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, even to your own ears.

“I… I guess you could put it like that.” Namjoon says hesitantly.

“We just want to give you a break, jagiya,” Taehyung interjects, and he does look genuinely torn up about the change. But feelings are of no use, not now that things have come to this. The only protection you have left is your own pragmatism to rival theirs.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, feeling much too exposed in your skimpy outfit. Damn Min Yoongi and his slutty sequin tops. You level your gaze at each of them in turn. “Don’t I get a say in this? I’m an independent contractor.”

Namjoon seems befuddled by your scorching glare, but he nods after a moment, seeming to come to his senses. He’s the one person here that’s best equipped to acquiesce to your sudden formalities. “Yes, of course. Uh… do you want to step into my office? We can work something out. Draw up a formal agreement, if you’d like.”

You see a flash in your mind of the last time you were in Namjoon’s office, not even a week ago, where you had him bent over his desk, cumming all over your fingers and dripping onto the ornate carpet.

You shake your head. They don’t want you to play with them for a week? Fine. You won’t give Namjoon the satisfaction of a home court advantage. “I’ll call my handler. We can discuss this in the lounge in an hour.” You don’t have a lawyer, but Yeji is the next best thing.

Namjoon seems a little surprised at your sudden switch to a cold and business-like demeanor, but he nods in agreement.

“Wonderful,” you look between the other boys, though most of them avoid your gaze. “I hope you all enjoy your breakfast.” You can’t resist hissing the words, and you hasten out of the room before your stone cold facade can crack.

You close the door behind you and lean heavily against it, trying to find your balance again after being thrown so off-kilter. What the fuck just happened?

“Well… that could have gone better.” You hear Yoongi sigh, and the others all break out into loud bickering again from behind the door. Honestly, they’re like children sometimes.

You scoff miserably at their immaturity and inability to see how seriously they just toyed with your life, and you wipe your eyes before the tears can fall, hurrying back to your room.

-------

That could’ve fucking gone better indeed.

You press your face into your hands, trying to stifle the fury and despair bubbling up inside your chest, threatening to suffocate you. Your hard work and years of dedication, all of your training, everything you’ve worked towards, becoming valuable and necessary so you’d never be cast away again, it’s all for nothing. You’ve still ended up in this position.

What the hell are you supposed to do now? Wait around for a week as they slowly lose interest in you? The very thought is agonizing. It tugs at all your buried fears and insecurities, watching them as they each slowly forget about you. Watching yourself become useless.

No. Stop it, you don’t have time to feel sorry for yourself when there’s work to be done. Time is ticking.

When you get overwhelmed in life, you’re supposed to ask for help. But you have very limited choices for who you can ask. You’re isolated and subjective in this case, so what you need right now are some outside opinions. Objective viewpoints and thoughts about the situation that aren’t stuck in the mire of emotional complications, and tainted by your own hellish visions of the worst possible outcome.

Yeji, your handler, would be your first person to consult. She’s probably the most professional woman you know, after yourself, and most importantly, she always has a plan for any situation. You pull out your ComGear and see that it’s still on Sachsa’s mysterious contact page. She could be a second opinion. That is, if it’s really Sachsa and not some network spy.

You shake away the thought. One thing at a time.

You send a brief message to Yeji, letting her know to come and see you as soon as possible.  You tack on that it’s kind of an emergency, and could she pick up some ice cream for you on the way, double fudge ripple.

She replies that she’ll be over in fifteen minutes, which gives you just enough time to change clothes and rehearse how to explain what happened.

You shed Min Yoongi's sequined strip of fabric without an ounce of remorse and stare at your closet in dismay. None of their outfits are comfortable, let alone respectable for a meeting. Frankly, your pajamas would offer more coverage.

You feel close to tears at the simple matter of choosing an outfit. This is ridiculous.

No. They may have control over what you do, but you can still rebel, at least in this small aspect of your life. You grab one of Jungkook's hoodies and a pair of leggings from Hobi, combining the outfits into what could be considered loungewear.

Once changed, you feel a bit more like yourself, and wait anxiously for your handler to arrive.

-------

Choi Yeji is an intimidating woman. She possesses the subtlety and sting of a viper, and isn’t afraid to say what she means. She’s never shown you any great lengths of emotion, even under stressful circumstances. So it doesn’t surprise you to see her calm and collected as she walks into your room.

“What happened?” She asks while you shut the door behind her, and she sets down the shopping bag of ice cream.

Her composure helps ease your frazzled brain, and you quickly explain the events of the past twenty four hours. Well, the events she needs to know, anyway. You were stressed at dinner, used your safeword, and now they seemingly think you’re broken and need to rest, but you suspect it’s an excuse for them to distance themselves from you.

“You think you’ve fallen out of their favor?” Yeji inquires, resting the tip of her spoon in her mouth. She claims desserts are her only vice, and had joined you in the ice cream, but still kept a professional distance and had eaten hers seated on your desk chair while you remained flopped on your bed. “Why? They’ve never sent in a single complaint about your service.”

You sigh in frustration. You know, or you at least suspect, that it has something to do with the… feelings that have come to your attention recently.

But the thought of sharing your romantic dalliances with Yeji is just plain awkward. Your relationship with her has always been business focused, monitoring your diet and exercise, your needs and leisure requests. You've never called her over to talk about your love life, or anything too personal for that matter. It’s not really in her job description.

She’s your handler, not your therapist.

But you know that you can't get around telling her the reason why things have been so tense in the house, it's inevitably going to come up. If she's representing you and backing you up during this meeting with Namjoon, it's in your best interest for her to know all the facts.

That still doesn't make it any easier to talk about. “I... think I might know why.” You admit, laying on your back, covering your face with your arm as you prepare to talk about your affairs.

Yeji levels you with a knowing look. “Did the chat room help you figure it out?”

You sit bolt upright. How the hell did she find out? 

Your brain struggles to provide an explanation in a vain attempt to cover your tracks, but Yeji eases you down from your silent panic with a wave of her hand.

“It’s alright,” she chuckles, a kind smile gracing her lips. “I was the only person alerted that you’d disconnected from the network and linked to a new one. I know all about the hidden network."

"You do?" You manage to utter, too astounded to say much else.

"Of course." Yeji inclines her head. "I used to work closely with Madame Guillaume, you know."

The tension dissipates from your body to make room for the curiosity that now overwhelms you. Guillaume? That was her last name? You only ever knew her as Madame.

Yeji seems amused at your dumbfounded expression. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

You don’t know what to say. Honestly at this point, so many shocking things have happened to you that a part of you isn’t even surprised anymore to hear that Yeji knows about the PhysCom dark web. Sure. Why not?

“So is it… real?” You ask, scooting closer towards the edge of the bed.

Yeji sets down her spoon along with the empty pint of ice cream. "Yes. It's most certainly real." She folds her hands in her lap, unaware of the chocolate that's gotten around her upper lip. "But that isn't to say it's not dangerous."

You can't help the snort of a laugh that comes out of you as she talks so seriously with chocolate on her face. She looks at you askance and you wordlessly hand a tissue to her, pointing at your own mouth. "You have something…"

She blinks rapidly. "Ah, apologies." She looks over to your vanity mirror and wipes off the smudges. There's a slight lilt to her voice when she speaks, a result of the fact that Yeji always uses English around you, despite Korean being her native tongue.

You’d mentioned once that it sometimes felt weird to see others’ lips move differently to what you were hearing them say, thanks to your auto-translation chip, and she’d apparently made a note of that. Yeji has used English with you ever since, despite your assurances. It amazes you that she always goes above and beyond to make sure you're comfortable, even when it comes to speaking

Your handler clears her throat to continue. "Anyway, as I was saying. The network does have security, but no measures are foolproof. Anything you send to them has a risk of being seen by other people."

You twist your lips to the side. “Like who?”

“Well, for one, their clients could easily catch a glimpse of the chat,” she notes. “Or the information could be leaked in a security breach. You know all the leading PhysCom networks have heard whispers about this dark web you’ve discovered, and many of them would be all too eager to dismantle it.”

You automatically shake your head. You don’t know why, but the idea of the people in that chat room getting discovered, or being punished for their little spark of camaraderie… it feels wrong. Totalitarian. “But they’re not harming anyone. It’s just a group chat.”

Yeji sighs. Her lips twitch as she considers her next words. “It may seem harmless, or indeed it may even be harmless,” she states calmly. “But the higher up that one is placed, the more scared one becomes of falling. People in the higher ranks of the industry may view the chat room as a threat. Like a… PhysCom mutiny.”

“What? But that’s ridiculous!” You huff out a laugh. “They can’t possibly think we could organize a union against them. We’re illegal workers. We have no rights in society, we can’t even physically see each other.”

Sure, the risk of rebellion would be understandable in companies that employ people in respectable positions. But sex workers? That’s like being worried that drug dealers will rebel against the crooked pharmacies that supply them.

PhysComs are nothing without networks to market them and provide for their basic needs. Your career is forever tied to your network, so each network only wants the best of the best. Your reputation reflects on them as a business. So, if you get fired by your clients… your network might let you go, too.

You sigh, trying to push away such troubling thoughts. “Besides, it’s not like the people in that chat room are the only people who can fill their positions.” Your face falls a little as you continue. “We’re replaceable.”

Yeji picks up on your change in tone. “You were telling me why you think things have changed?” She waits patiently for you to explain.

You hug your knees to your chest, your gaze falling to your comforter. “I think… some of my clients might have developed feelings for me.”

You wait in silence for a beat, not daring to look up.

“Is that all?” Yeji asks, as if you’d just informed her that the toilet paper had run out.

You scoff in bewilderment. “What do you mean ‘is that all’?” You demand, a little underwhelmed by her reaction. Does she just know everything?  “That’s a huge deal! Feelings are not a part of my job.”

Yeji tilts her head to the side, her eyes cast upward as though looking for the right words. “Perhaps. You might consider it an… occupational hazard,” she says with a kind look towards you. “You may not be selling your heart to those boys, but you are selling your body, which protects your heart fiercely. After enough time, letting them touch your body… it’s inevitable they might slip through and touch your heart.” She shrugs, taking a sip of the coffee to-go cup she always seems to have on hand.

You feel exasperated, like you’ve been building up all this hot air only to have it slowly leak out of your proverbial balloon. “You don’t have to get all… philosophical about it,” you grouse half-heartedly. Yeji merely chortles.

“The insecure always cast stones at those who speak the truth,” she hums into another sip of coffee, looking over the references she’d brought with her on her phone. “Now that I’m aware of this huge deal of yours, you may want to fill in any details you, ah… forgot to mention?” She gives you a look, and you groan inwardly.

But you comply, spilling all the information of your romantic dalliances since the moment Taehyung kissed you. Yeji doesn’t hold any judgement in her face, she merely nods, taking a few notes for herself, and asking an occasional clarifying question. You also feel compelled to add in what you overheard the boys talking about before you came into the kitchen.

“They said something about a vote… and that they would hold another one at the end of the week ‘if things don’t improve’ with me. Can you believe that?” You inhale, trying to quell the anger in you before it can bubble up again.

Yeji clicks her tongue, a cold clarity in her eyes as she adjusts her glasses. “So you believe Kim Namjoon is the instigator in all of this? He would try to dismiss you, even after you confided in him?”

“He’s their leader,” you say quietly, unable to conceal the hurt in your voice. “His loyalties are to them.”

Yeji doesn’t look at you with pity, but with sympathy. You’re grateful for the distinction. Pity makes you feel worthless, but sympathy makes you feel… heard. Understood. Not something you’re used to experiencing, but it’s still a nice feeling to have.

“Well,” Yeji checks her phone, standing up to leave. “It looks like we’re just about out of time. We’d best be getting downstairs.” 

You get up as well, tugging your clothes back into place. “So, you’ll help me change his mind?”

“I must remain impartial, in order to reach a satisfactory conclusion for both parties.” She gives you a look while organizing her papers and clipping them into her briefcase. “But I’ll do what I can to negotiate you out of this so-called vacation,” she says, her voice fueled with that same resolve that she’d shown you whenever she’d been fixated on getting you something that you requested.

“Yeji.” You hesitate, then walk over and take a hold of her arm. “Just please… don’t go easy on him.” You ask, giving her a meaningful look.

She pauses and looks at you for a moment, then finally lets out a sigh with a brief flutter of her eyes. Her job isn’t easy, but then again, neither is yours.

“Alright,” Her voice is reluctant, but resolute. She gives you a brief smile with a touch of fondness, and opens the door for you. “I’ll give him hell.”

-------

You wind and unwind the drawstring of your hoodie around your finger as Yeji organizes her paperwork. The tension in the air is palpable. Namjoon sits across from you both, now dressed for the day in business casual, a white t-shirt under a blazer and slacks. He must have an interview or a photoshoot today.

Your mind wanders briefly to what he usually does when he has a schedule, asks you for a quick blowjob before he leaves. You think of that warm smile he gives you after you swallow his cum, and the tenderness of his lips as he kisses your cheek before he heads out the door.

Lewd domesticity is how he phrased the kink during his interview.

“So, Mr. Kim Namjoon,” Yeji begins, snapping you out of your memories, her voice crisp in the otherwise silent room. She’s speaking in Korean again, to more clearly communicate with him. “You and my client are in a disagreement with regards to her services, is that correct?”

Namjoon frowns. “Not exactly. We just had a… simple misunderstanding this morning.”

Yeji gives him a thin smile. “Well, she called me here, which must mean that she feels the need for professional support concerning this issue,” she continues swiftly. “There are no laws governing Physical Companions, Mr. Kim, because they are not technically legal. A black market business. Therefore, I am the closest thing my client has to legal representation, and I wouldn’t call my lawyer about a ‘simple misunderstanding’, would you?”

Namjoon’s eyes flash with something almost like regret as he glances to you. His mouth opens and closes for a moment, then he briefly shakes his head, his gaze returning to Yeji. “No, I-I wouldn’t.”

“Right.” Yeji raps her collection of papers on the oak tabletop to align them, barely giving Namjoon a glance as she begins flicking through the stack. “Now, then. My client has told me that you wish to put her on suspension, is that correct?”

Namjoon winces. “I wouldn’t say that, uh, Ms. Choi,” he says, wringing his hands together. He looks nervous, his eyes flickering from you to Yeji, and back again. “Does our PhysCom need to be present for this meeting?” He asks her, flashing a smile that would be charming and amiable, if he didn’t look so tense.

Yeji meets his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes.”

“I… um, alright.” He purses his lips with a nod.

It’s weird. In all the time you’ve known him, Namjoon has always been unfazed and collected when it comes to business. You’ve never seen him look so flustered before. Since he’s putting you in this position, it’s satisfying, in a twisted sort of way, to see him uncomfortable.

He clears his throat. “In any case, myself and my members just wanted to give her a break. Simply extend her vacation time.”

Yeji looks to you, her expression almost bored. “Do you want a vacation?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t.” You throw a glare at Namjoon before returning your gaze to the houseplant on your left, inspecting each leaf as you try to stay calm. You know if you look for too long at him, you’ll start getting worked up again. Your anger and resentment is still there, bubbling just below the surface. You hope he knows how much he hurt you.

Yeji turns back to him, inclining her head, her tone that of explaining something simple to someone who should know better. “It is against her will, so it’s considered a suspension, Mr. Kim.” She slips her glasses on, reading over the fine print on the paperwork. “My client is given two days off each month, is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Namjoon says. “One day off, every two weeks.”

Yeji raises an eyebrow. “Yet, you wish to suspend her for an entire week. That’s over three months worth of her regular vacation time. I must say, this appears to be much more than a simple extension, as you put it. I wonder why that would be?” She flips a page, skimming the words casually. “It says here that she’s received nothing but glowing reviews from all of you since she was hired six months ago.”

Namjoon shifts uncomfortably. You can tell that he’s trying to keep up his shields, but Yeji is a formidable foe with which to spar, able to find the smallest opening in an opponent’s armor and pierce through with the speed of a rapier.

“No particular reason.” Namjoon seems to settle on the answer after calculating his words.

“No reason?” Yeji’s eyes widen in mock surprise. “Mr. Kim,” She sets her papers on the table, looking at him expectantly. “I’m afraid I can’t allow this discussion to go any further unless you have a good reason for putting my client, your Primary PhysCom I might add, on suspension for an entire week.” She shakes her head with a mild shrug of indifference.

Namjoon tugs at the cuffs of his jacket. "Well, I think we can-"

Yeji interrupts him, her words slow and purposeful. “I think… it would reflect very poorly on you as a leader to make such drastic decisions,” Here, she gives a very brief smile that could be mistaken for politeness, if there was any warmth left in her eyes. “... for ‘no particular reason’. Don’t you agree, Mr. Kim?”

Damn. Hit him where it hurts, Yeji.

Namjoon’s mouth grows slack, his expression dumbfounded. You bite back a smile, eternally grateful for being assigned such a kickass handler. You make a note to request a bonus for her next paycheck.

But now Namjoon’s face has grown dark. His fingers are tented together, and he seems lost in a silent debate within his own mind. “I didn’t want to do this…” he mutters so quietly, you almost can’t make out the words.

He inhales sharply and sits up a little straighter, his composure regained. “Ms. Choi,” he begins. “I must admit, we do have some concerns about her performance.”

Your heart drops like a stone.

“Oh?” Yeji doesn’t look up at him, but starts scribbling on one of her papers. “What might those be?”

“We believe that she’s overworked, since, as you pointed out, she is our only Primary,” he explains in almost a monotone. “Her behavior has been emotional and unpredictable lately.”

At this, your gaze snaps to him, shocked. Why the fuck would he say that?

He looks down to the floor, as though ashamed, as he continues. “She’s kissed two of our members since yesterday, which is not on her list of services. She broke down crying last night during dinner. When we went to use another PhysCom, she had a meltdown. Started screaming at us.”

Your body feels numb and on fire all at once.

"We're concerned about her professionalism."

That motherfucker.

You leap to your feet, your body moving before you can think. Yeji pulls you back from physically assaulting him, but you strain against her grip like a wild animal. “You bastard!” You spit out the insult, hair falling in your face and venom in your voice, still huffing out ragged breaths as Yeji patiently calms you back into your seat.

Your hands clench so hard you dig marks into your palms. You’re shaking with unbridled rage at his betrayal. You didn't think it was possible to be so angry. Of all people, Namjoon knows exactly how dedicated you are to your work, even when you’re exhausted, how closely you stick to your professional boundaries, even when it hurts, how tirelessly you work to please all seven of them, even if it means being used over and over again without a moment to breathe. You’ve always given everything to your job.

Now he wants to turn around and say that you’ve been fucking slacking?

“You see what I mean,” Namjoon states calmly, though there’s something wavering in his eyes that doesn’t quite match the rest of his confident demeanor. He tries to meet your gaze, tries to get you to look at him, but you refuse, twisting your head away from him before you get yourself charged with murder on top of everything else.

Maybe it would be best for you to get fired. You’d rather live on the streets than be treated like this. Tears prick at your eyes but you blink them away. You refuse to cry in front of him. You won’t give him any more ammunition to use against you.

Yeji looks between you and Namjoon, her lips forming a thin line. “Kim Namjoon,” she addresses him, her voice cold. “Do you wish for my client to remain in this house?”

Namjoon seems surprised at the question, his eyebrows lifting. “Yes, of course.”

“Then, I think a recess is in order.” She stands up and brushes off some invisible lint from her skirt.

You stand up to join her, but she holds out a hand. “No. You two need to talk this out,” she says to you, then looks to Namjoon, staring him down. “I suggest you remember why we’re here, Mr. Kim.” After a moment of silence, she walks to the door. “I’ll be back in ten.”

With that, Yeji exits, and the two of you are left alone.

You cross your arms protectively around yourself, adamantly refusing to look at him. The silence stretches between you.

“Sweetheart-” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe. Proprieties be damned, you’ve had enough. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, you fucking asshole. I have given everything for you and your members, okay? Don’t you fucking dare sit there and tell lies about me, to my face!” You shout, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You know if you keep talking your rage will melt into tears, and you cannot afford to cry in front of him. You simply won’t allow it.

“I know, I know,” Namjoon’s assurance overlaps the end of your sentence. He sighs. Waits a beat.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah! You’d better be.” You still don’t meet his eyes, the betrayal and confusion is just too much. On top of all that, you’ve never lashed out in anger at any of them like this. You still don’t regret shouting at him, but your heart is threatening to beat out of your chest in fear of repercussions. Did you make the situation worse? Is that even possible at this point?

“Look.” His voice is tentative, a little afraid. “I really am sorry, I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Then why the fuck did you say it?” You counter sharply.

“Because!” Now it’s his turn to shout, though he seems to regain himself much more quickly than you. “Because... I don’t know if that woman can be trusted,” he reiterates quietly, as if afraid she might hear him through the door.

Wait, what?

“Yeji?” You squint in utter disbelief. “Of course she can be trusted, what the fuck are you-”

“Not with this.” He sighs again, rakes a hand through his hair. “Listen, you have to trust me.”

You bark a laugh. “Trust you?”

He shakes his head, stopping your objections before you can list them. “This is serious. This is… bigger than either of us.”

His voice is the only thing that gives you pause. Just for a moment. He sounds… desperate. Scared.

You slowly look over to him, and his expression confirms your suspicions. Namjoon is fearful about something, his eyes wide with worry, his hair mussed from being tugged between his fingers. He looks completely different from before, and it has you reluctantly curious.

“What do you mean?” You let him keep talking, though you’re still taking his words with a grain of salt.

“I was… working on something. A better arrangement,” He begins, his eyes reaching out to you, then darting nervously around the room, as if he’s letting you in on his greatest secrets. “But I stumbled onto something bigger. I just… I need you to take some time off for right now, and I need you to trust me that it’s for the best.”

You level your gaze at him, silently weighing your options. He’s being awfully vague.

“What does my time off have to do with anything?” You ask, your suspicion coloring your tone.

“It’s necessary to test my theory properly. If I’m right, then...” He trails off, and you garner that his success would bring about something monumental.

You stare at him. You want to take his words as truth, but he completely undermined you in front of your handler. You can’t let him off the hook so easily. “How can I believe anything you say anymore? You just blew any trust I had in you.”

“I know,” he says, hanging his head. He chews on his lip, then takes a deep breath. “That’s why I’m willing to offer some… collateral.”

He reaches into his pocket and withdraws something small and shiny. “This.” He holds out the object to you, dangling from a short metal chain. “It’s the key to my studio.” His gaze bores into yours as you tentatively reach forward to take it. “The only key,” he adds gravely.

You examine the silver peace offering, and your eyes widen at the implications of such a gesture. His whole life is in that studio. All of his art, his collections, not to mention his computer. His music. His career.

It’s all sitting in the palm of your hand.

He reaches across the table and closes your hand around the key. “You can keep it until I’ve earned your trust again. Okay?” He gives you a brief, dimpled smile, as if to assure you, though sadness and worry still swim behind his eyes.

“Now, sweetheart. Please. I beg of you.” He takes your hand in both of his own, his worried eyes imploring you to trust him. “Please, will you take this vacation?”

[psychovigilantewrites]

Chapter 12- The Dark King

Word Count: 10, 700

Ao3

TW: Mentions of rape, abuse, violence

A/N: Thank you guys for your kind comments and support so far! I really love the enthusiasm and your responses! 

I also wanted to share these amazing fanart!! 

by @nessieusagi​ 

by @milas-imaginarium​

I think they’re so lovely and it makes me so happy seeing all of this!

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

The first thing you felt when you woke up the next morning was the burning soreness between your thighs.

You winced when you reached down to touch your tender folds. Your labia minora was slightly swollen, and you felt something sticky. You withdrew your hand to see dark red oxidized blood.

You got up from bed, flinching as you walked to your bathroom to wash up. After a quick shower, you head out but paused when you caught your own reflection in the mirror. There were bruises on your waist and your hips, a double crescent shaped marking around your left nipple- you hadn’t even realise he bit you there in the heat. Your eyes then darted towards your neck, taking in the dark spots that had formed on the surface of your skin.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered.

You were a fucking mess. Anyone who saw you would immediately know what you were up to the night before. Even washed and clean, you could make out your slightly swollen lips.

You reached for your makeup bag and started covering up the visible remains of the assault you welcomed- before pausing in realisation.

Mother was quiet. She hadn’t made a single comment about how dirty you were.

And you didn’t feel dirty either.

You saw your own lips quirk up in a smirk as you craned your head to expose your neck even more to dab on concealer. You had just finished getting dressed when you heard a knock on your door.

“ Hey, you up?” you heard Dick’s muffled voice from outside.

You didn’t bother to reply, but went to open the door for him.

You stared at him, as he stared at you.

“You look like shit,” you snickered, then stepped aside to allow him inside.

His eyes were red and puffy, with dark circles underneath them. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and the fact that his complexion was gray and pale added on to the “looks like death” look.

“I feel like shit,” he groaned. You sat on the chair near your desk as he helped himself to your bed.

“Are you okay?” he frowned in concern.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re walking funny,” he narrowed his eyes at you.

Shit.

You had tried to walk as normally as you could, but you were naive to think that you could have fooled Dick.

“Oh!” you feigned realisation, “My foot hurts a bit. I think I twisted it yesterday when I ran up the stairs.”

Fuck.

Another blunder.

It wasn’t a half truth, it was a straight up lie, and you knew how good Dick was at detecting lies. Judging from the tightening of his lips and the scrutinizing pause, he saw straight through you. You remained silent for a few moments. Then-

“So, Bruce told you, right?” Dick changed the subject, “How did you take it?”

You relaxed.

“I didn’t know him,” you reminded, “So it was more like a surprise to me, you know? I didn’t think it was possible. Then everything just made sense. Like, mind blowingly. The shit he said to me, the familiarity with the gadgets and my uniform, the kidnapping.”

“It killed him, you know?” Dick brought up, “Bruce, I mean. When he saw those bruises Red Hood- no, Jason- left on you. He probably didn’t show much, but Alfred called and told me how badly he took it.”

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of the hickies you currently had hidden on your neck, as if they were burning into your skin.

“Well, that was Todd’s plan, I suppose,” you shrugged. It still felt weird to talk about him in the context of the present.

“It worked,” Dick nodded, “Bruce was messed up. You’re his daughter after all.”

You didn’t know how to respond to his sad smile, so you changed the subject.

“So did you yell at him?” you smirked, “For keeping it a secret for so long?”

“Yell at him? I punched him,” he revealed.

“In the face?” you gasped.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered, looking away.

“How long will you be staying?” you asked.

“I’m taking a week off work. If nothing by then, I’ll go back, but will continue to drop by as much as I can.”

“Anything last night?” you questioned.

“No,” he sighed, “We tried to look for people to interrogate, but it wasn’t our luck. We’ll try again. We’ve been checking out Bruce’s safehouses as well since he never removed Jason’s security clearance so he could be using one of them. So far nothing, though.”

You felt like a dark mass inside of you was eating you up, drowning you in guilt and shame.

While they were out desperately looking for Jason the night before, you knew exactly where he was and who he was doing.

“You’ll find him eventually,” you offered, “And when this stupid suspension is over, I’ll be there to help as well.”

“Yeah,” he hummed, “Jason… I want to help him. Save him. He’s angry, and you know what? I get it. I get why he’s pissed.”

So Dick got it?

He got that it was your fucking fault? That you were Jason’s replacement?

He got why Jason fucking hated you?

Dick must have noticed the change in your expression, because he quickly added, “I meant Bruce. How Bruce let Joker go.”

“Yeah, I got that,” you recovered, “It’s fine.”

“Sure, Bruce beat Joker up and all that, but I felt that Jason was always the type to think that the ends justify the means. He valued the intentions more than the action itself-”

“I said it’s fine, Dick,” you cut him off.

“And of course it does not in any way justify what he did to you-”

“Dick,” you grit, “It’s fine.”

He looked at you warily.

Or was it pity?

You didn’t need or want his fucking pity.

“Anyway,” he got up, “Breakfast?”

“Sure,” you followed suit, willing yourself to not grimace at the shooting pain between your thighs that you had forgotten about.

The two of you made your way downstairs to have breakfast in the dining room, table already set by Alfred.

“Bruce?” you asked Dick, wondering where your father was.

“He’s been in the cave the whole night,” Dick frowned as he took a seat across from you, “Hadn’t slept a wink.”

“I see,” you acknowledged, while you piled your plate with bacon and eggs.

“So,” Dick started with his mouth full, “Where did you go last night?”

“Did Alfred tell you I went out?” you narrowed your eyes.

“Mhmm.”

You immediately started to get more cautious.

“I went to see someone,” you casually told him, trying your best to lower your heartbeat.

“Oh, was it that guy you were seeing?”

“Yup.”

“You never told me his name.”

You swallowed.

“Carter.”

“Carter?” he snickered.

“What’s wrong with Carter?” you feigned a defensive stance.

“Nothing wrong,” he tried to stifle his laughter, “So is Carter the reason why you’re walking funny?”

You did not expect that.

You were going to gasp in shock, but you had food in your mouth, so you ended up choking on it and going into a coughing fit.

“Dick!” you hacked violently, eyes streaming with tears.

“What?” he guffawed, “Oh, God. Are you okay?”

“Why would you say that?” you reached for the glass of juice.

“I need to know whether I gotta have a stern talking with some guy,” he laughed, “It was an honest question! Come on, I’m your brother.”

“Even more reason not to discuss these things!” you grimaced.

“Hey, if you’re old enough to do it, you’re old enough to talk about it,” he said smugly.

“It’s none of your business,” you protested, blushing furiously.

But the universe was a bitch.

Against all your luck, your phone that you had set on the table dinged.

You looked at Dick, and he looked at you, mischief glinting in his eyes.

You had been Robin for a long time, and while your reflexes were good, it still wasn’t as good as Dick’s.

Before you could reach for your phone, Dick had lunged for it, snatching it away mere moments before you could react.

“Dick, give it back!” you panicked, jumping across the table to catch swipe it back, causing a commotion.

He stood up tall, keeping the phone out of your reach.

“Oooh, Sexy Hunk From Library, huh?” he read out the notification on your lock screen. You put in a mental reminder to change your settings later.

“Thought of my proposal?” he read out loud, skipping away from you.

Fuck.

If Jason sent anything else, he’d expose himself.

“Proposal?” Dick continued, “What proposal? Did he ask you to marry him?”

You could tackle him. You couldn’t beat Dick but you could perhaps make him drop your phone.

“Or,” he gasped, “Is he into BDSM? Fifty Shades of Grey stuff? He’s getting you to sign a contract, isn’t-”

“How about instead of distracting yourself and using humor as a coping mechanism for your obvious grief and anger, you come to the terms and accept the fact that it was your fucking little brother who kidnapped and sexually assaulted me?” you spat with venom.

You saw the moment Dick registered your words, the way his smile fell, his teasing eyes darkened, his jaw clench and his back stiffened.

Dick had never looked at you the way he did then, and suddenly you felt small in his presence, the way Batman had always made you shrink away from his excessive aura of authority that he projected while he scrutinized you.

You felt like a dark veil covered the sun, and wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole as he looked at you with dark eyes.

“Dick-”

“You’re right,” he grit, “Thanks for the slap in the face.”

“I’m sorry-” you tried.

“Clean up the mess you made,” he cut you off before leaving you alone with spilled juice and bacon bits on the floor.

You were never the clingy type.

You never really missed anyone because you never had anyone to miss. The maids and nannies in your childhood home rotated frequently so that you couldn’t get attached to them. Looking back, you were sure your parents did it on purpose.

It was only when you started giving full trust to your new family that you knew how it felt to miss someone.

And it had always been Dick, since you had gotten close to him and he wasn’t around much. You always had a good relationship with him, and he never once got angry at you or looked at you the way he did.

And now, it was Dick you had hurt.

But frankly, you didn’t care.

Because he deserved it.

***

It wasn’t like Jason was hoping for you to agree, but it was part of his plan so he couldn’t help but hope.

At least, that’s what he was telling himself.

He was sitting at his dining table- the fact that he owned a dining table sort of made him pleased with himself- cleaning his guns.

It took you almost an hour before you finally replied his text.

When Jason heard the ding, he looked to his screen to read the notification.

I’m still thinking.

He frowned, then put his gun down. He wiped his hand stained with grease and gunpowder residue on his bare chest, leaving a trail of gray on the surface of his skin before picking up his phone to reply.

Think faster. he simply sent.

He saw that you immediately started typing back.

These things take planning, Jason. I need to make sure no one can identify me if I were to go out with you. It’s not the matter of whether or not I can decide, it’s the matter of whether or not I’m capable of eluding Batman once he sees a surveillance footage of me with you.

Jason smirked. Evidently, you were agitated.

He liked that.

He liked agitating you.

You’re a smart girl. You can figure it out. he replied and went back to cleaning his weapons when you didn’t text him back.

Two hours later, his phone dinged again.

Fine. Where do we meet?

Jason smiled widely at his success.

Meet me at 7th Dillon Avenue, Coventry. I’ll be in the alley between the old tailor shop and a thrift store. 11pm sharp.

Noted.

Oh, and babygirl? he sent again.

What?

Put on that lip gloss you always wear. he replied with a kissing emoji he knew would get under your skin.

***

I don’t exist for him.

I don’t care what he thinks.

I don’t want to please him.

You repeated to yourself again and again as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the tube of clear lipgloss you always wore held tight in your shaking fist.

After knowing he wanted you to wear it, you were suddenly torn between putting it on or not. You didn’t think something as stupid and simple as that could drive you up the wall.

You were frowning at yourself, at how idiotic you were being.

You were already ready, wearing a tight black suit made from Kevlar thread underneath black armor, your hair out of your face, and steel toed combat boots on complete with black leather gloves you usually wore during winter. The only weapons you were bringing were a pair of escrima sticks strapped to your back, your grappling gun strapped to your upper thigh, and a small knife strapped below it. Your belt only had smoke bombs. You were ready to leave, except for the lipgloss.

You groaned, and smacked it on anyway, hating yourself silently for listening to him.

You left your phone in your room, because you knew that Bruce could track your movements with it and deactivating your GPS and whatever bug he used would be more suspicious.

You managed to sneak past Alfred and head to the garage, thankful that both Bruce and Dick were already out, and chose the most normal looking motorcycle available and slapping black duct tape on the number plate to cover it up.

You thought about how your core would just sting while riding a motorcycle. The pain between your legs had lessened, but it was still sore enough to make your movements odd and stiff.

You left the manor with your heart beat racing, thinking of how you were betraying the man who took you in and loved you.

The man whom you called your father.

The streets in Coventry were dark and empty at that time. The only shops that were open were a couple of empty dodgy bars and convenience stores. You and Batman sometimes would patrol the area because it was such a perfect place for crime to happen. For some reason, it was so empty that even criminals hardly ever targeted anyone in the area save a few residents.

You hurriedly zoomed into the alley that Jason had told you. Both the tailor shop and thrift store were closed. You immediately saw him leaning against a black, sleek classic car, helmet resting on the hood. It was your first time seeing him as Red Hood after discovering his identity.

And the image ignited a fire in your belly.

You parked next to him and switched your engine off, taking off your own black motorcycle helmet.

You walked towards him and stopped a few feet away, arms crossed.

He looked at you, up and down. Then-

“Very homemade. I like it. Black suits you better,” he drawled. “You’re packing light tonight.”

“I had to be careful,” you reminded him, “I couldn’t take much weapons. He would have noticed.”

“I didn’t know you used those,” he nodded at the escrima sticks on your back.

“Dick taught me how to use them,” you explained, “My fighting style is too rigid- Bruce would recognize it if he saw me fight next to you. I’m not as familiar with the escrima sticks, so I haven’t developed a style yet. It could throw him off- hopefully.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, and started walking towards you. You refused to budge. He came close to you and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you close against his chest.

Your breath hitched, but you willed yourself to not show any sort of reaction.

“And this?” he breathed, hands snaking up your waist, rubbing the material up and down, “Kevlar armor?”

“Zylon,” you mumbled, ignoring the growing heat between your legs, “It’s six times stronger than Kevlar.”

“And he wouldn’t notice this go missing?”

“It’s stored away,” you huffed, “It’s more like a bulletproof vest rather than a suit. He wouldn’t miss it. Not the way he would miss the tech he used on the Robin suit.”

“Impressive,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning your face. He started caressing your cheek gently. It could have been a romantic gesture, but for some reason you thought that it was more threatening. “You’re even wearing contacts to change the color of your eyes. See? I knew you were smart”

“That’s a given,” you scoffed, looking sideways. Anywhere to avoid his eyes, though he was wearing a red domino mask with white lens. “Why do you even wear a mask if you already have a helmet?”

“Why did you wear your lipgloss when you had no obligation to listen to me?” he smirked, his thumb pressed on your shiny lips.

You slapped his hand away and looked at him in defiance as you put on a black bandana over your nose and mouth, tying it behind your head to give you a sense of protected identity.

He chuckled, and let you go.

“This is our rendezvous point. If anything happens, we meet back here. Now hop in,” he walked towards his car.

“Why can’t I take my own vehicle?” you demanded.

“Because I want you next to me,” he grinned, and put on his helmet. The minute it rested on his head, you saw it activate, the white glowing eyes switched on and you heard the very soft sound of his electronic breaths.

You frowned.

It was state of the art tech. You knew it must have had additional features like night vision and zoom lenses, not unlike the one you owned. You wondered where or how he had procured it.

“If that’s your only reason, then I’m taking my bike,” you defied.

He was already going to enter the driver’s seat when he stopped midway. He turned to look at you, and for some reason, it made you shudder.

In a flash, he was already behind you, taking your arms to incapacitate you and slammed your front onto the hood of his car.

He was unbelievably fast- you couldn’t believe that they were human reflexes. It must have been a result of the Lazarus Pit that Bruce briefed you on.

He bent over you, a hand in your hair forcing your head down against the warm car.

“Don’t get too cocky, baby girl,” he cautioned, “I still don’t trust you enough.”

You had to admit that the vulnerable position you were in sort of made your pussy clench.

“Fine,” you conceded, “I’ll go with you.”

You felt the pressure disappear and heard the car door slam. You grumbled and rubbed your cheek, before following suit.

Just because you knew it was Jason, you had let your guard down. You forgot how unstable he actually was. You made a mental reminder to be more cautious of his mood bursts.

You slammed the door shut. The interior of the car looked just as sleek as the exterior, with black leather seats- the passenger and driver’s seat were joined together- and an old school cassette player with nothing playing. The car was spacious and looked like a collector’s car. Again, you were left to wonder where he got it.

“Where are we going?” you asked, looking out the window, trying to avoid how sexy his arms looked when he gripped the steering wheel.

How could arms even be sexy?

“We’re heading to iClub,” he stated.

“On Verne Avenue? The one owned by the Ibenescus’?” you frowned, “They still a problem for you?”

“Big operation. Proud family,” he huffed, “International business. Yes, they’re a problem. They’ve been trying to hide it from me, but my men say they’re still active.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

You felt uneasy.

“Just have a little talk with Victor,” he shrugged, “He’s in charge of the operations now after the Patru Fatri, and the cousins. He’s more distant from the main family, but an Ibenescu nonetheless.”

“Well, I hope the club doesn’t check IDs,” you mumbled jokingly to yourself.

To your surprise, you heard Jason bark out a loud laugh. It was an odd sound coming from the voice scrambler inside his helmet.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rested a hand on your lap, which you felt almost burn, “You look way over 21.”

*** What Gotham lacked in security, it made up with entertainment.

Theatrics.

Its affinity for producing and attracting bizarre individuals always made for good dinner discussion. You just never thought you would be on the side of the crazies.

Jason had parked a couple of blocks away from the club. You recognized the area, as it was just a lane away from The Black Bass Bar, where Jason had decapitated the cousins and put their heads on spikes.

The two of you walked towards the club.

“Listen here,” he started, “This isn’t your area of expertise. You do exactly what I tell you to do. You don’t open your mouth unless I say so. I’ve worked hard to earn fear from these people and I’m not going to let you fuck that up for me. Understood?”

“Whatever,” you huffed.

You noticed how the bouncers started getting nervous when they saw the two of you approaching. They had started to sweat and fidget, trying excessively hard to focus on filtering the going ins and outs of guests.

“Red Hood, sir,” one of them nodded and let the two of you inside. The moment you stepped in, you felt like you were immediately deafened by the loud techno music that was playing, and blinded by the flashing bright lights.

You noticed how many of the customers recognized Red Hood, and flinched away from him, avoiding eye contact. Their gaze would linger longer on you, curiosity in their eyes.

The both of you squeezed past the sweaty dancers on the floor, and towards the VIP area on the other side of the club.

Seated on the long suede purple sofas were three men, each with at least two women on their arms. The moment they saw you approaching, they immediately went rigid.

Red Hood simply strutted to the area and you followed behind him.

“Ah, Red Hood,” the man with straw hair that was slicked back and navy blue shirt that he had left unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest, greeted. “Take a seat, take a seat! I see you have a guest with you, as well.”

“Victor,” Red Hood nodded, sitting on the chair. He crossed his legs and spread his arms across the back of the sofa, lounging comfortably. He looked over to you and nodded to his side, silently telling you to sit.

You obeyed, though less relaxed than Red Hood. It was slightly quieter at the VIP lounge, but you still had to strain your ears to hear them speak.

“Can I get you a drink, my friend?” Victor offered, “Maybe something for the lady?”

“You want anything, princess?” Red Hood turned to you.

“No, thank you,” you grit.

You hated that he was calling you pet names while in the presence of a crime lord. It was humiliating, and made you feel like you were just an accessory to him, not unlike those hardly dressed girls that were on Victor’s side.

You noticed one of them.

He had his arm wrapped around her waist, but she looked extremely uncomfortable. She was blonde, wearing a black dress with a plunging neckline, and didn’t look that much older than you. Even with the layers of badly applied makeup, you could tell she had eyebags and dark circles, perhaps maybe even bruises on her face.

“Angelica,” Victor called a girl from the other end of the sofa, “Come here give my friend some company.”

The girl called Angelica had tanned skin and exotic features, and was a brunette with curls that hung to her hips and was wearing a body hugging deep purple glittery tube dress. She came to sit on Red Hood’s other side, snuggling up close to him and started rubbing her hand on his thigh, and whispered something that you couldn’t hear.

And he just let her.

You clenched your jaw.

No, you couldn’t be jealous. It didn’t make sense for you to be. Yet, the sudden tightness of your chest said otherwise.

You saw Red Hood angled his face slightly towards you, probably to see your reaction.

You couldn’t see it, but you somehow knew he was smirking.

“So what brings you here?” Victor asked, trying to hide his nervousness.

It was the first time you met with an Ibenescu face to face. You thought that they would have a thick accent, but Victor sounded just as American as you and Red Hood.

“I was just wondering how things were going on your end,” Red Hood shrugged.

“Things are going excellent,” he replied, “As you can see, the club is doing great. People are enjoying themselves.”

“And the drugs?” Red Hood brought up.

“Ah, straight to business, like always,” Victor chuckled, “We’ve sold almost all our stock this month. You can come by and get your share of profits any time.”

“Who are your clients?”

“Local distributors, as well as some international ones,” he explained, “With explicit instruction to avoid dealing with the underaged, of course.”

“And how can you be so sure they’re listening?” Red Hood demanded.

“You know us, Red Hood,” he boasted, “The Ibenescu Family is one of the most powerful families in Gotham. Our name is very well known in the underground. We have people everywhere. Our operations span from the Americas, to Europe, to South East Asia.”

“And which operation did you come from, sweetheart?” he addressed the girl next to him.

She looked at him with shock, gaping like a fish out of water.

“Angelica here is from the Philippines,” Victor answered for her, his voice grittier than normal, “She migrated to find work. I provided for her. Isn’t that right, Angel?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she stuttered, “Mister Victor has been very good to me. He gave me a job when others wouldn’t. I am forever grateful for him.”

You frowned at the way she recited those words, almost like she memorized it from a playcard.

“The American dream, as the say,” Victor continued, “My family are very familiar with it. We are immigrants that came a long time ago, and America provided for us. I wanted to do the same for others.”

“Did you now?” Red Hood hummed.

“Of course,” he nodded aggressively, “But enough about me. Who is this ravishing lady you have here? I have not seen you before, my dear.”

You looked at Red Hood, who nodded subtly once.

“I’m V,” you made up on the spot.

“V?” Victor repeated.

“For Vendetta,” you finished.

You heard Red Hood chuckle next to you.

Victor raised an eyebrow, “Well, my dear, you must be special to my good friend Red Hood, here. I didn’t think he was capable of laughter. Where did he hide you all this while?”

“Ah, you see, Victor,” Red Hood cut in, “I did not hide her, because she isn’t mine to hide. V here is her own person, who happened to become partners with me for tonight. People only hide property, and women aren’t property, am I right?”

There was an unmistakable threat in his voice.

“Of course not,” Victor agreed, “I respect women.”

Suddenly, there was a tension in the air as the two men looked at each other.

Then, Victor started laughing.

“You’re too tense, Red Hood,” he boomed, “And you should trust your associates more. Especially the ones who sacrificed their entire industry for you.”

“Sacrifice, huh?” he said softly. Then, Red Hood turned his body towards you, scooting closer to your side. He let his hand rest on your thigh.

“You got my back, baby girl?” he whispered into your ear.

“Yes, but I’m not killing anyone,” you whispered back, “And you shouldn’t either.”

He ignored you and went back to Victor.

“Victor,” Red Hood said, “I’m feeling a little… Restless tonight. I want one of your girls.”

You clenched your jaw.

“Oh?” Victor widen his eyes, “Finally taking up my offer! Of course, of course! Pick anyone of my lovely ladies.”

“I want that one,” Red Hood pointed to the blonde Victor was obviously possessive over.

“Elena?” Victor started laughing awkwardly, “I’m afraid she’s not available, Red Hood. But you’re welcome to choose anyone else. Angel here is very popular.”

“No,” Red Hood insisted, “I want your Elena.”

“That’s not possible,” Victor denied, annoyance on his face, “Elena is only for me.”

“Well, since you respect women so much, let’s hear it from her, huh?” Red Hood teased, “Elena, sweetheart, would you keep me company tonight?”

Elena’s eyes were wide and terrified. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. You felt bad for her and wondered why Red Hood was putting her in such a difficult situation.

“I-I-I’m v-very sorry,” she squeaked. You could hear her thick Romanian accent. “I o-only serve Mister Ibenescu.”

“What, this clown?” Red Hood scoffed, earning a glare from Victor, “Unlike him, I’m sure I can give you a pretty good time.”

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, “T-that is not possible.”

Red Hood kept silent.

“There you go, the woman herself said it,” Victor commented, “And you’d want to respect a woman’s wishes right, Red Hood?”

“How old are you?” Red Hood asked softly, ignoring Victor.

“T-twenty-four,” she replied.

“You don’t look twenty-four,” he hummed, “How long have you been working with Victor?”

“Two years,” she automatically responded.

“I see,” he nodded.

You could tell she was lying, about both her age and how long she worked. And you knew Jason caught on as well.

Jason leaned back, taking out his gun from his thigh holster and casually dumped it on the low rise table, clinking against the glass bottles and shot glasses.

Ibenescu tensed up, and then there were about fifteen men who pointed their guns at the two you. You were about halfway standing up, reaching for your escrima sticks when Red Hood caught you by the shoulder to stop you.

You frowned at him, then sat back down.

You noticed that the music had suddenly stopped, and everyone in the club was silently looking, worry in their eyes and preparation to take off if anything were to get out of hand. You guessed that these sort of things happened frequently, and the club probably had a system for when it did.

“Relax, will you?” he growled at everyone, “Was just getting a little uncomfortable there, Jesus Christ.”

Victor nodded at his men, and they set their guns down. The music continued to play and the customers continued to dance as if nothing had happened.

You now knew what he was doing.

From the very beginning, he already planned out what he was going to say and what he was going to do in order to prepare for an inevitable fight. Based on observation, he knew that Elena was Victor’s favourite and that he would not let anyone touch her, so he provoked him by asking for her.

Asking Elena her age and how long she worked was also a calculated and pivotal move. Since both you and Red Hood could tell when someone was lying, the fact that she was indeed hiding what seemed to be minor information told volumes that she wasn’t supposed to be by Victor’s side, meaning that she wasn’t there by choice, and you could assume that she was trafficked.

From there, he confirmed his sources that Victor had not ended his human and sex trafficking trade, and had reasonable reason to attack.

And by putting the gun on the table, however he relaxed he seemed, was a massive power move. He showed that he wasn’t afraid of being unarmed- though, you knew he was probably packing more than one gun. Tactical wise, when Ibenescu’s men showed themselves, they also showed their numbers to you. You now knew where they were, what weapons they used, and how many of them you needed to take down.

You smirked to yourself underneath your improvised mask. You knew already how smart and strategic he was based on how he conquered the underground in only just a few months, but seeing him act in the flesh, you truly appreciated his brain.

“It almost seems like you’re scared of me, Victor,” he drawled, “Are you?”

“You did kill members of my family,” he mumbled.

“It was their fault now, wasn’t it?” Red Hood shrugged, “I told them to stop. They wouldn’t. Now, if you’re not as stupid as they were, Vic, you wouldn’t have to be scared, am I right?”

Red Hood leaned forward towards Victor, resting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head sideways.

“With all due respect, Red Hood, they were not stupid,” Victor argued, “They were simply protecting the pride of our name.”

“And how about you? You’re not protecting your family’s pride?”

“I prioritize my life over pride,” Ibenescu admitted, “And I respect you as Gotham’s Dark King.”

Dark King? What the fuck?

“Dark King,” Red Hood repeated, laughing lightly, “Got a nice ring to it, don’t you think, princess?”

He elbowed your side playfully.

“A bit cheesy for my taste,” you grit.

“Aw, the missus doesn’t like it. To be fair, I think it’s cheesy too,” he stated, “But you know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”

Victor frowned at him in question.

“I said,” Red Hood snarled, “You know what I don’t like even more, Victor?”

“W-what, Red Hood?” Victor sputtered.

“People who lie to me,” he growled.

In a blink of an eye, with the speed you had witnessed earlier and many times before, he had managed to stand up, reach for the gun on the table, jumped across and stepped on Victor’s chest who was leaning in panic against the sofa, and cocked the gun towards his head.

All before you could even register his initial movement.

The fifteen men aimed their semi-automatics at Red Hood, prepared to gun him down.

The music had stopped, and from your peripheral vision, you saw the crowd were ushered to the exit in chaos.

“If your men don’t put down their weapons, I’ll shoot,” Red Hood looked down at Victor.

“What is the point, Red Hood?” Victor defied, “You would kill me anyways. I might as well try to take you down with me.”

Red Hood paused for a moment. Then-

“Baby girl?”

You nodded. “Got it.”

The first person you attacked was the one pointing his gun to your back.

The sticks felt unfamiliar, yet refreshing.

You managed to knock him out before he could shoot at you, but by that time others were already pulling their triggers. You locked your next target.

You ran at him and slid on the floor, taking his knees out and simultaneously pushing him into the next person whom you used your stick to hit directly at the centre of his head.

But you could sense a gun being aimed at you, and you dived behind the sofa to use as a shield. You heard glass shattering around you, and on the floor you found someone’s dropped mobile phone. You reached for it, and with aggressive force, sent it spinning through the air and hit the culprit in the eye, blinding him.

You came out of hiding and lunged your sticks at his throat.

You spun around to grab the neck of a semi-automatic and directed it upwards, causing bullets to spray across the club.

Your ears heard nothing but ringing for the next minute.

You pounded onto the guard’s chest using your sticks, and ended the attack with a blow to his temples.

You had counted five, so you reacted quickly to lock on your next target, but when you came out of your adrenaline induced tunnel vision, you noticed everyone else were already lying on the floor.

During the time you knocked out five men, Red Hood had already killed ten.

And now, he was left with a sobbing, begging Victor Ibenescu who was on his knees on the glass covered floor.

“What should I do with you, Vic?” Red Hood drawled, “I’ve already gutted your cousins, put some of them on display. And it was a pretty display, wasn’t it?”

You approached them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a whimpering Elena who was in a fetal position against a toppled over sofa, terror in her eyes.

“P-please,” Victor stuttered, “I promise I’ll shut down the operation, for real this time!”

“I don’t give second chances, Vic,” he told him, “Now I’m just thinking about whether I have the time to skin you alive before the cops show up.”

“Red Hood,” you called out, “You don’t need to. The cops are already on the way- hell, Batman is probably a couple of minutes out. We should leave.”

“And leave him here unpunished?” he jabbed the gun into Vic’s head, causing him to recoil from the heat of the muzzle. “I don’t think so.”

“Red-”

“Elena!” Red Hood barked, “Come here. Now.”

You saw Elena struggle to get onto her feet and limped her way to you.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Red Hood asked, “Should we leave him for the cops to find and deal with, or…”

He looked over to her and gently took her hand, handing her his own gun.

“Do you want to kill him?”

You gaped at Red Hood, just how Elena was.

“M-m-me?” she managed.

“Yes, you,” he confirmed.

“You can’t possibly make her-” you started.

“Don’t you think she’s the one who should decide what happens to him?” he cut you off.

Elena still looked shocked, and held the gun as if it was going to hurt her.

“Hey,” you approached her slowly, “You don’t have to. Once the police come, they’ll take him away and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. You don’t have to be scared anymore. They’ll help protect you.”

The poor girl was shaking so bad, you were worried she might set off the gun accidentally.

“No,” she whispered.

“Elena-” you tried.

“No!” she shrieked at you, causing you to stumble slightly back in surprise, “You- you don’t know. He do things to me! Again and again! He took me. I thirteen! Now I eighteen! No!”

You were utterly speechless. How could you reply to that?

She held the gun properly now, with two hands.

“He made me kill baby. Two times!” she sobbed.

Your heart broke.

She shuffled closer to him.

“Elena, my dear,” Victor started frantically begging, “You’ve always been my favourite. I’ve always treated you well, haven’t I?”

“No!”

BANG!

You heard Victor let out an inhuman screech.

Elena had shot him between the legs. Next to you, you heard Red Hood chuckle.

She pulled the trigger one last time, and crumpled onto the floor at the same time Victor did.

You wanted to approach her, comfort her, anything.

But Red Hood beat you to it.

“Listen to me,” he growled to get her attention since she was sobbing hysterically, “Are you listening?!”

She nodded.

“When the police come, you tell them that I made you shoot, alright? You tell them that I said I would rape you then gut you alive if you didn’t shoot him. You understand me?” he shook her.

“Y-yes,” she hiccuped.

“Repeat it. Tell me what you are going to tell them.”

“R-red Hood say he rape me and kill me if I no shoot,” she bawled.

“Good,” he nodded, “You did good, Elena.”

He then turned to you. “Let’s go.”

The two of you quickly rushed to the exit. You were just about to leave the club when-

“W-wait!” Elena called out, “Red Hood!”

He looked at her.

“T-thank you.”

He left without saying a word.

***

You were being really quiet in the car.

Jason thought that you were still shaken over what had happened.

Sure, maybe you saved people from being mugged or raped, and perhaps even some trafficked girls in the past.

But he was sure that those girls didn’t have the option Jason graciously gave Elena.

Jason thought that you were probably thinking about what those girls you saved in the past would have done if they were granted the same choice.

He sped up, hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. His body was still buzzing from leftover adrenaline, and he was itching for something.

An illegal car race. A good old fashioned hand-to-hand combat with somebody who could keep up with him. Hell, even a nice and long jerk off session.

He was bothered by the silence, despite being alone the whole time before this.

He put in a cassette and AC/DC started blasting through the speakers. He saw you jump at the sudden noise.

Somehow the ride back to the rendezvous point seemed longer than expected.

“Why do you still have a cassette player, and cassettes?” you spoke for the first time since the club.

“I’m old school that way,” he jested.

You ignored him and continued looking out the window.

That annoyed him.

Fuck, why was he so fidgety? Why did he want your fucking attention so much?

He felt like that kid in kindergarten who pulled on the pigtails of the girl he liked.

Finally, the both of you were back in the alleyway.

He turned off both the music and the engine, and took off his helmet. He combed through his hair with his hands and tossed the helmet in the backseat. He saw that you had taken your mask off as well, but hadn’t made a move to leave.

So he just sat there with you in silence, unsure of what to do or say- like a fucking idiot.

Fuck.

You were driving him crazy.

Thankfully, you broke the silence.

“What did your sources say about the Ibenescus’ still trafficking girls?” you wondered.

“There was a recent shipment of girls from Philippines, Thailand, Russia, and India,” he explained, “Only the Ibenescus’ would still have the guts to carry out the operation. Like Victor- may he rest in peace- had said, the Ibenescus’ are powerful. They have an international business they just can’t afford to sacrifice.”

“But since Victor is dead, someone else would just take his place,” you frowned in the dark, your outline illuminated only by the single dim street light from outside.

“And I’ll keep on killing every single one of them,” he grit.

“But like you said, it’s an international operation,” you argued, “Even if it was just the States, you can’t possibly stop every single operation under the Ibenescus out there.”

“Just like however much you and Batman patrol at night, you can’t stop every single crime, right?” he sneered.

You remained silent.

“It’s the same fucking thing,” Jason insisted, “Except that Elena got her justice. True and proper justice. Or are you telling me she made the wrong call? That she shouldn’t have shot his balls off and killed him after he raped her for years and made her abort her baby twice?”

“There must be some other way,” you muttered.

Jason was annoyed at how stubborn you were, but frankly he understood.

Because that’s what Batman did. He brainwashes you into thinking that his way was the only way.

“What if I told you that one fifth of the trafficked girls were aged below twelve?” he said softly, “What if I told you that the Ibenescus’ have been providing the elite pedophile rings with children? Would you want there to be some other way?”

You looked at him, shocked.

“Elite pedophile ring?” you gaped.

“Batman didn’t tell me either when I was Robin,” he grumbled, “It’s either he didn’t know about it, or he kept it a secret from us. And knowing him, I doubt it’s the former. Weren’t there days where he insisted on being alone?”

You frowned, taking in everything Jason had said. He was proud of himself. Just after a few hours with him, he could already see your resolve faltering.

“As long as I can clear Gotham of sex trafficking, as long as there are less girls like Elena here, and as long as there are no more children involved, I’m satisfied,” he continued, “That’s what I do. I give out justice and fix things. I know most victims like her don’t get the opportunity to get closure the way she did, so I’ll be the one to make that decision and carry it out for them.”

“Oh, so you’re supposedly Gotham’s savior, then? A fucking Angel of Death or something?” you answered sarcastically.

“Didn’t you hear Vic?” he chuckled, “I’m the fucking Dark King.”

You scoffed, and crossed your arms, still looking outside.

“You were pretty good with the sticks,” Jason commented, changing the subject. “Though definitely not as good as Dick.”

Fuck, why was he still talking to you?

“I don’t usually use them,” you shot him a glare that Jason thought was more cute than threatening, “I usually use Krav Maga.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with your subpar fighting skills,” he smirked.

“That’s not fair,” you huffed, “The Pit gave you peak human abilities. You can’t compare yourself to me.”

Of course Bruce knew it was the Pit that revived Jason.

“Baby girl, I was much better than you when I was Robin,” he poked.

Why was he teasing you like this? Flirting with you like he was normal?

Joking with you as if he wasn’t planning to hurt you?

“I doubt it,” you pouted.

Even in the dim light, Jason could still make out the shiny traces of lipgloss that were still left on your lips.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out a hand to your chin, and pressed his thumb against your lips, sticky from the lipgloss.

He saw the way your breath hitched in surprise, the way your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, the way you gulped.

“Why do you like my lipgloss so much?” you spoke, lips brushing against his thumb.

Fuck.

“Because, baby girl,” he drawled and scooted closer to you, “Ever since day one, I kept on imagining your shiny, wet lips around my cock.”

A small gasp escaped your mouth.

Which made his cock start to fill up.

“Want to make my fantasies a reality, princess?” he smirked.

“Why would I?” you whispered, “I don’t owe you anything.”

“It’s not about owing me,” he came closer, now rubbing his thumb all over your lips, smudging your lipgloss, and picking up some of your spit. “It’s about helping each other out.”

He gripped your waist with his other hand, rubbing up and down through your armor.

“Didn’t you like last night?” he purred, gripping your thigh. He noticed how you easily spread them wider apart.

“Didn’t you come all over my cock?” he forced his thumb inside your mouth, hooking it at your lower teeth and forced your face closer to his.

“Didn’t you wear your lipgloss anyway just to get my attention?” he smirked.

He had expected you to pull away, or even bite his fucking finger, but to his surprise, your lips closed in on his thumb.

And you started sucking.

All while looking up at him with your innocent, puppy dog eyes.

And for some reason, even though it was just his one fucking thumb, he felt like he was being consumed by the warmth and the wetness and the fucking softness of your mouth.

Jason was in trouble now.

Because you had started swirling your tongue around his finger as you sucked.

Jason couldn’t hold back his groan.

And from the delight he saw you in your eyes, he already knew what type you were.

You were the type to get turned on by his pleasure, his approval, his praises.

Typical Robin complex.

“Baby girl,” he breathed, “I’m not going to come unless you do the exact same thing but with my cock instead.”

He smirked when you gave him an irritated look, but then-

“Ow! Fuck!” he snatched his hand away.

You fucking bit his finger.

Again.

And this time you were looking at him with complete smugness.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now, princess,” he growled. Then, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and tugged you to him roughly, forcing his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you violently and grabbed your tits which were still covered by all your-

“Fuck, why do you wear so much fucking armor,” he gasped.

“Because I’d like to actually live in case I get shot,” you shot back at him.

Jason glared at you. He usually loved your attitude, but somehow he felt really irritated by you that night. You weren’t as snarky and confident the night before. Obviously you were less nervous, and less afraid of him.

He needed to change that.

In a flash, he pushed you hard against the locked door of his car, earning a shocked gasp from you. He crawled over to you , engulfing your body with his own.

It was hard to move in the car, but the compact setting made Jason feel like he was trapping you in a cage.

He put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly while he attacked your mouth with his own again. This time, his kisses were less pretty.

He bit and nipped at your lips, your tongue, forcing both of your teeth to click together.

He could hear you panting hard, and moaning into his mouth, sometimes letting out soft whimpers.

“You trying to sass me, baby?” he breathed over your face, lips brushing against yours. He increased the force of his throttle.

“You forget who’s in charge here?” he whispered, appreciating the way your mouth just fucking fell open.

“Who’s in charge, princess?” he growled.

He saw your eyes roll upwards, your lids fluttering close, and felt your thighs squeeze together.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Were you getting fucking turned on by his choking?

“Y-you,” you said in stuttered breaths.

“That’s right, baby,” he let go of your neck, causing you to gasp for air.

Then, Jason leaned back against the door on his side, and parted his legs.

He was glad the Impala’s seats were joined, without any annoying bumps that parted the passenger and driver’s seat. It allowed more room to move around.

Once he saw you catch your breath, he patted to the spot between his legs.

“My cock ain’t gonna suck itself,” he smirked.

He could see the fire in your eyes as you came over to him, bent on all fours. You laid on the seat on your belly, your mouth close to his cock that was borderline becoming extremely painful.

He had to wear protective cups while he worked, which meant that getting an erection was excruciating.

He tilted his head in curiosity when he saw you stare at his thigh holsters, biting your lower lip.

“You see something you like?” he teased.

Your gaze snapped back at him, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. You ignored his question and started working on his belt buckle.

Once they were off, you impatiently pulled his pants down, but was puzzled when you saw his jockstraps.

He almost laughed when he saw the confusion etched on your features.

“They’re just like normal briefs, baby, but with extra protection,” he winked, cupped his junk, and gave it a little shake to make a point.

“I- I knew that,” you fumbled, and went to hook your fingers in the elastic waistband. You brought them down with some difficulty, as they were tight.

But Jason enjoyed seeing you struggle, so he let you figure it out.

And boy, the look on your face when you finally took his cock out.

He hissed at the relief when his cock slapped back onto his lower abdomen when it was free, but your expression made him chuckle.

“Did- did I really have that inside me last night?” your voice went up an octave.

“Inside you, and outside, and inside, and outside,” he gave you a shit eating grin.

“Very funny,” you glared, but gulped again at the sight of his erection, “Jeez. No wonder I couldn’t walk properly all day.”

“And I assure you, every single time I fuck you, you wouldn’t be able to- ah, fuck!” he got cut off by the pleasure that suddenly shot up his spine when you gripped his shaft hard.

He looked at you and saw you gave the same cheeky grin back.

Fucking hell.

You bent down, and gave a small experimental lick at the tip of his cock. He could see the way your eyebrows knitted together, how your eyes were so full of fucking contemplation. Like you were thinking of a strategy to make him come undone.

You started lapping your tongue a few more times over the head of his penis before taking the tip into your mouth and started sucking softly.

Jason groaned, and then reached his hand to tangle into your hair. Not to control your movements, not to show you how it’s done, but just because he needed to grip something.

From the tip, he saw you let your saliva drool down his shaft, making it glisten. Then, you sunk down and took more of him in. You got too ambitious, because you went down too fast and then he felt you gag around his dick.

“Fuck,” he grunted as he felt your fucking throat try to push him out, “Take it slow, baby. We have all night.”

You released him from your mouth and gasped for air, a string of saliva connecting his tip to your mouth, tears streaming down your face, eyes and nose red.

Shit.

It was a fucking sight, alright.

“I-I’m sorry,” you sputtered, “I wasn’t sure- I don’t- it’s my first time.”

And holy hell, did Jason’s heart flutter at your innocent apology.

“It’s okay,” he wiped the tears from your cheeks like he was your lover, like he fucking cared. “It feels great when you gag on my cock, but you don’t have to take it all in at once. Here.”

He pushed your head back down to take him in rough, but not too rough.

Jason needed to be a little forceful, a little violent with you. He needed to hide the fact that you sucking on his cock for the first time didn’t flick a switch of emotion within him.

“You take in as much as you can,” he panted, “And your hand can do the rest.”

He wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft.

“So when you go up,” he pulled your hair to guide you up his length, slick with your spit and his precum.

“Your hand follows your mouth,” he gripped your hand and moved it upwards as well, following the motion. “And don’t forget to suck.”

He saw that you got the hang of it pretty fast, and soon, Jason was groaning and moaning, and tugging at your hair.

He fought hard to not cant his hips upwards and start fucking your mouth. He fought hard to be considerate, to not hurt you, to not give you too much of what you could handle.

He didn’t want a repeat of the night before.

Yet, the fire in his belly and the dark voices inside his head told him to grip your head with both his hands and fucking use your mouth like a toy.

But, no. Jason was in control. And he didn’t want that. Not tonight.

He saw that you were watching him as you bobbed your head in motion, and he knew you were enjoying the sight of him. He felt vulnerable to you, open and exposed.

He hated that feeling. The shame of being laid out like that when someone was watching him-it made him feel small and guilty.

But the shame and humiliation and guilt was what made the whole thing more enjoyable.

Soon enough, he felt the familiar feeling of his gut tightening, his toes curling in his steel boots.

“Stop,” he rasped, pulling you away.

You looked at him with worry in your eyes that made Jason almost come anyway.

“I- I was close,” he explained.

“Isn’t that the point?” you smirked.

“Wanna fuck you first,” he murmured.

Then, you started blushing.

“Uhm, it still hurts a lot from yesterday,” you answered sheepishly, biting your lip awkwardly.

It reminded Jason of how you were with him the first time he met you at the library, how you were shy and a blushing mess, when you didn’t know his identity. It seemed so long ago, and for the first time, he wished things could go back to being that way.

“Fine,” he gruffed, “Come back down here, then.”

When you started sucking on him again, he added, “Didn’t know you were so weak. Thought you’d be used to getting thrown around by now.”

It really wasn’t fair for him to say that, and he knew it was hurtful.

But he wasn’t the good guy in this story.

You shot him a glare, and then popped his dick out.

“Jason, my mouth was around your cock when you said that, and if I were to accidentally bite you, well,” you retorted.

“You wouldn’t do that, baby,” he chuckled.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because, princess,” he drawled, and forced you to continue sucking, “My cock- ungh- is your favourite part of me, isn’t it?”

And as if you conceded, admitting he was right, you started to suddenly increase the pace. Filthy wet sounds filled the car as Jason heard the sound of rain in the background, and noticed that the inside of his windows had started to fog up.

Your warm, wet mouth consumed him whole, and he felt his balls tighten and tighten.

“Baby,” he gasped, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

Despite his warnings, you still went on, as if you were determined to finish your job.

He groaned loud and long as he spilled his cum inside your mouth.

He felt you fucking drink it up.

Fuck.

When he was done blowing his load, you were giving him soft, gentle licks on his now sensitive cock.

And you then you sat up and smiled proudly.

“You waiting for me to give you a candy, or some shit?” he snickered, “Or a gold star?”

“Maybe you should,” you huffed and crossed your arms, sitting back properly in the passenger seat.

Jason put his pants back on, and sat up as well.

But then he noticed you squirming slightly, your respiratory rate fast, small pants escaping you. You were clenching your thighs together.

He smirked.

He reached out and caressed your cheek with one finger.

“Want me to help you out?” he offered.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I’ll deal with it later. I should go back soon. What time is it?”

“Almost two,” he glanced at the dashboard clock.

“Batman and Nightwing are probably just leaving the club by now,” you said out loud, “I’m sure they’ll keep on patrolling, though. Unless they got a clue.”

“Clue?”

“Yeah,” you hummed absentmindedly, looking outside at the rain.

You remained silent for a while.

Jason hated the silence.

Then-

“It’s your face, by the way,” you started.

“What?”

“Your face. My favourite part of you,” you avoided Jason’s eyes.

Jason was taken aback at your confession.

Why would his face be your favourite part? He had scars all over, eyebags and bloodshot eyes, and he was pretty sure his nose was more crooked than average.

“You’re good looking,” you said as if you were mad.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself,” Jason blurted before he could stop himself.

You blinked at him in surprise.

Fuck.

He fucked up.

He wanted to punch himself.

What were the two of you doing? It wasn’t like it was a fucking date. It wasn’t like he cared about you that way. It wasn’t like he wanted you all to himself, and never let go.

Fuck.

He was done being the charming, kind, gentleman Jason Haywood.

So why was he still acting like he was?

***

“Where were you?” Dick demanded when you opened the door.

He was still in his Nightwing uniform, sans the mask.

“What?”

“Alfred said you weren’t around, and you left your phone at home,” he persisted, “Where did you go?”

“I got some junk,” you pointed to the big bag of junk food on your bed.

“Alfred said he noticed you weren’t around at midnight, and you only just got back an hour ago. It took you almost three hours just to get junk?” he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Fine,” you conceded, “I went to see Carter.”

“Why did you leave your phone?”

“I forgot, okay?” you exasperatedly flailed your hands. “I’m grounded from patrol, not from going out. What’s the big deal?”

Dick frowned at you.

Your heart was beating so hard you were afraid he could hear it.

“Where did you meet him?” he continued to interrogate.

There were no more room for half truths.

“Robinson Park,” you answered, “We spent some time in his car. Lost track of time. And- you know what? I don’t even need to tell you all of this! It’s none of your business, Dick.”

“There was someone new with Jason tonight,” he stated.

Fuck.

“Someone new?” you repeated, tilting your head in feigned curiosity.

“A girl,” he continued, “She’s skilled.”

You frowned. “Who is she?”

“Eye witness said she calls herself V,” he told you, “She uses escrima sticks and a form of arnis and silat hybrid.”

“Hmm,” you pondered, “And? Is she someone you and Jason knew?”

“We’ve been wondering about that,” he muttered.

Your eyes widen.

“You think that was me?!” you shrieked.

“You tell me!” Dick retorted.

“Why, Dick?” you shouted, “Why?”

“You were out for god knows how long and suddenly Jason has a girl with your knowledge of martial arts at his side?” he snarled, “What else am I supposed to think?”

“One, fucking anyone could learn martials arts!” you argued, “Two, I was out with Carter yesterday as well! There wasn’t anyone with Red Hood yesterday!”

“Red Hood wasn’t seen yesterday,” he debated, “And you haven’t even shown me a picture of this Carter you’re seeing. What’s his last name? Where is he from? You need to tell me. You need to tell me the truth.”

“I am,” you grit, “You need to figure out your bullshit, Dick!”

“What?”

“I get it, okay,” you sighed, and sat down on your bed, “Jason, your brother, he betrayed your trust. He’s angry at Bruce, but why didn’t he come to you?”

Dick simply looked at you.

“You trusted Jason when he was Robin, as family,” you explained, “The way you trusted me. And now that trust is destroyed, you’re questioning me as well.”

You looked at him with a sad smile.

“I’m not like Jason, Dick,” you tried to convince him, “I’m me. I’m your sister. I have no reason to hurt you or Bruce. I love you both. Okay?”

Dick stared at you, and you saw tears pooling his eyes.

That made your heart sink to your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he blinked away the tears, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you got up and hugged him. He hugged you back tightly, pressing his cheek into the top of your head, “I love you, Dick. I’ll help you guys out with this, okay? I mean, I know I’m not as good as either of you, but I’ll try.”

“Yeah,” he sniffled, “Thank you. Can’t wait for you to get back in uniform.”

“Me too,” you replied, holding back your own tears while you thought about how fucked you were.

[pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow]

I know there’s still a lot of shit happening, and I’m aware that we need to remember the protests  haven't stopped, but today was an especially good serotonin day, so I finally pushed myself to finish this three month-old thing, and now I’m posting bc i have no impulse control.

------

”There’s the signal.”

”Yeah.”  Fuck that.

Oh sure it’s a life changing opportunity, a new hope, a second chance, but for some reason Doyle would rather stay here.

Next to him Katsumi turns and pats him on the shoulder, a small half-smile shinning on his face. Ah. That might be a reason.

“Katsumi-” He starts, cutting himself off. It’s not possible. They’ve known each other for less than a week. He’s still a fugitive, he has no contacts, no money, no place to stay, and Unchained is still very much after him. But he wants to stay. He wants to leave the job behind, he wants a new home, he wants- he wants to be around people he can get to know beyond the usual discreet suitcase or credit card, beyond being on one or the other side of a gun.

He can’t though. It’s not something assassins can have.

“Yeah?”

He forces his voice to stay even. “Nothing, just -” I think I like you after just a week, I can't ever repay you for this, you’re pretty cute under this light, I don’t want to leave, “thank you. For everything, I mean. The food, the medicine, and the trip. I owe you.” Forever, his mind adds silently.

Katsumi’s smile fades into a concerned frown, and he brushes Doyle’s shoulder with his own - fuck that’s the first time in years anyone’s touched him without violence being involved - as he speaks. “You don’t owe me anything, Doyle,” his hand is swinging closer and closer to his, “I organized this of my own free will, because I wanted to. You deserve a-” why is his voice hitching like he’s about to say something else before he changed his mind - “You deserve a second chance, just like anyone else would. You’re not as bad as you think, an-and it’d be easier for you to start a new life somewhere they can’t find you.” I should leave, Doyle thinks to himself, it’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me, and it’s the world’s biggest favor, and , and-

He doesn’t want to leave. Doyle may not know every aspect of the local culture, but he speaks the language, gets the economy, and with a skillset like his, he could easily get a job in any field. It’d be a new life, a real change, a- A fugitive on the run with no official documents, no actual job prospects, and a death penalty waiting. Not an option.

Katsumi’s sharp turn to face the ship take him out of the train of thought and he watches as the captain suddenly starts flicking the lights of the cabin on and off. Doyle doesn’t know what that means, (or why the idiot doesn’t just use morse code or better yet, simply come out and shout down), but Katsumi’s face hardens.

“There’s a threat on board,” he’s backing away and pulling Doyle with him as he speaks. “It’s Yanagi! Look!” Doyle can now see the shape Katsumi was pointing at, the short and distinct silhouette clearly visible with the lights on. The deadly aura, and the stench of fresh blood mixed with old metal confirm it.

He’s not sure why they’re running away instead of taking Yanagi on together, but Katsumi practically throws Doyle into the drivers seat and chucks the keys at him before flipping over the car and into the shotgun. Instincts kick in. Years of training and being in intense situations have his reflexes following through without question, and Doyle only realizes that he’s done anything when he makes a sharp turn left away from the pier and the tires screech against the pavement. Katsumi’s looking trough the rearview mirror, but slumps in relief. No visible pursuer then.

“Merde, lousy figlio di puttana, dickhead, shove it up his own-” Doyle keeps the rest of the curses in his head, muttering what he can’t through gritted teeth. Right when he was about to finally leave that freak has to show up and ruin it. The hell was his deal anyways? Doyle did some research after he’d found the other four, and this guy seemed to be revenge motivated and not associated with the Shinshinkai. Katsumi probably hadn’t fought him, and the odds of a death row convict deciding to just hijack a boat for no foreseeable reason were laughable. So Yanagi was most likely after either him or Katsumi.

Like he’d read Doyle’s mind, Katusmi speaks. “Was that guy after you? Did you do something to him to get him pissed at you?”

“Nah.” It comes out sharp. Doyle wants another smoke. No smoking while you’re driving, his mind plays back the drilled-in lesson again, the car will reek, the light will be visible, and you either deal with the smoke clogging up your vision and breathing or open the car and beg to be shot. Later. “Best guess? He thinks I broke some weird ‘honorable rule’,” he makes the quotes with his right hand before returning it to the steering wheel, “because I decided to change and accept that you defeated me. Old people get like that about honor sometimes.” He knows it the wrong thing to say, but it’s true. It’s why he went to Japan in the first place, plenty of badasses with a code of honor and a too-large ego. Piss off the right guy, have him kill you. If he fails, kill him, find new guy, rinse and repeat. If they don’t kill you for reasons that aren't weakness, taunt them until they snap.

Thankfully Katsumi is a better person than him and mutters a “Makes sense,” at him instead of starting up an argument. He drives in pointless dodges and turns and alleyways for a while until he’s sure it’s safe, and then Katsumi gives him directions back to his apartment.

They get there. He gets out and, on some old and long-buried instinct, moves to open the door for Katsumi before the karateka gets out on his own.

“I texted dad while you were driving, and he said he was grabbing Shibukawa and going there as soon as he could. The police report was playing on the tv screens a street back or so, and they showed a picture of Yanagi  with a broken neck and missing his right arm, still on the boat.” Katsumi walks up the stairs as he talks and Doyle follows, unsure of what else to do. “So I’m guessing either they got there on time, or someone beat them to it. Either way, Yanagi’s not a threat anymore.” They’ve reached the landing, and Katsumi holds his hand out, presumably to get the key ring back from Doyle. He hands it over and chokes out the goodbye.

“Well, see ya around, I guess.” He’s trying very hard to not pretend that he isn’t just the slightest bit crushed about not being able to stay when something grabs his wrist.

“Wait, Doyle! You still don’t have a-” whatever he wants to say, Doyle doesn't wanna hear it. He turns away and keeps trying to walk down the stairs.

“I’ll find something or someone to get me out of Japan. Probably be gone by morning.” He tries to shake the hand off. It doesn’t budge. Stupid guys who have stupid grip strength and their stupidly effective and nice muscles.

“Just hang on, you idiot!” Suddenly Katusmi pulls him back hard enough that Doyle either risks dislocating his shoulder or stumbling back, so he chooses the latter. “We don’t know where Sikorsky is yet, and for all we know he’s after you too. Look,” his voice finally lowers to a reasonable volume that won’t wake the entire neighborhood, “just come in for half a minute, okay? I just gotta make a phone call to check that it’s safe, and then you can leave on your own if you want to, or stay here until we can reschedule stuff and get you on a boat to the Middle East again. It’s won’t take longer than a minute, Doyle. Please?” How the fuck does he do puppy dog eyes like that? Better question, how does Doyle feel himself falling to the them?

“One minute,” he says as calmly as he can when all he wants to do is either leave or stay forever. “One minute, and then I’m gone.” Katusmi nods, unlocks the door, and walks in. Doyle follows, and despite everything they just said about the one minute thing, copies Katusmi’s actions of taking off his shoes. A drink is thrown at his face and Doyle is shocked enough by the fact that this is happening to just open the drink and start sipping instead of realizing it’s intentions.

Katsumi is speaking to what sounds like first one, then two, then five people  as he paces, (and the static from the phone when he’s not the one yelling suggests at least one person is speaking to the other people over their own phone), his speech getting faster and faster until Doyle has a hard time distinguishing most of it. He catches bits and pieces of what sounds like legal jargon though, like they’re negotiating a deal. Something involving jail, prisoner, transportation, papers, parole, psychiatry visits, Hector  - Hold the fuck up.

Jail. Prisoner. Parole. Hector. Those are not words that should be involved in a conversation asking where Sikorsky is. Scratch that, there should not be this long of a conversation, or with this many people, for asking where Sikorsky is. Or all of the other legal crap in there. What is Katsumi doing?

Finally, an eternity of thirteen minutes and sixteen-and-a-half seconds later, Katsumi speaks at a normal volume, bids a formal goodbye over the phone (probably didn't even realize he was bowing as he did so), and then he’s turning to Doyle with a weirdly happy expression on his face.

“What’s Sikorsky’s status?” he asks.

“Well,” Katsumi sheepishly looks away for a second, “it’s complicated. See, first i called dad and he said he didn’t know and he asked Shibukawa, and he also didn’t know, but then Tokugawa was in the same hallway or something and heard them and started talking, and he was saying some stuff that he had planned for Sikorsky so apparently he’s out there somewhere, but Jack and Gaia are gonna pay him a visit soon so that’s all good.”

“Great, bye.” Doyle stands up and moves to get his shoes back on, but Katusmi has other plans because he grabs Doyle’s arm and keeps talking.

“Thing is, it turns out that Unchained was stopping by that hospital because he wanted to talk to Kureha about something, I think they were at the hospital cause that’s where Kureha usually is, anyways, and they talked about how he was gonna pick up Sikorsky and then you, and then dad and Tokugawa started talking, and somehow between everything the four of them phoned the director of that prison you broke out of and long story short, they pulled some strings and you’re not on death row anymore. So you don’t need to leave!” Doyle blinks.

What. the. fuck?

His first words to this are the more eloquent, “Not on death row?”

 Katsumi takes this as a cue to keep talking.

“Yeah, well there’s conditions and that sort of stuff. You have to stay with one of the approved people from Unchained’s list, to make sure you don’t go all assassin-y on innocent people, you gotta visit a special psychiatrist-slash-therapist once a week to help you settle in, and any new crimes will get you thrown into jail no matter what they are, but yeah. Other than that, it’s just some paperwork and stuff.”

“Just to double check, I,” Doyle motions at himself, “can stay here,” waving a hand vaguely to encompass all of Japan, “because your,” poking a finger at Katsumi’s chest, “dad is friends with Unchained and they “pulled some strings”?” he makes the air quote around the last part as obvious as he can because no. This can’t be real. That’s not how things work. Apparently, no one informed Katusmi of this.

“Yep!” he almost chirps the affirmation out as Doyle’s already confused  and fragile worldview crumbles in it’s entirety. His entire record, gone as long as he kept obeying the law. A new life. No more death sentence. No more prison.

Deep breath in, he coaches himself through the internal crisis, deep breath out. Right. Okay. He can work with this.

“So,” Katsumi immediately looks back at him, nodding to show he’s paying attention, “Who’s on the list of people I can stay with, and how many of them are already warned?” It’s close to two am, but he can pick the locks, and all he needs is a name to find their address. Katsumi starts talking, listing the names off on his fingers as he speaks.

“Well there’s dad, but he’s still paranoid after what happened to mom, so that’s out. Jack would be okay but we’re not sure if he even has a home, and nobody called him yet. Shibukawa knows but this isn’t the best way for you to meet him, Baki got ruled off the list because he’s too young, Yujiro’s too crazy and would kill you, Unchained vehemently refused to even consider hosting you temporarily after you broke into the station, and Tokugawa claims you ‘concern him’, so that just leaves Strydum, and me. So either you can stay here or-” he trails off. Doyle almost snorts inwardly because Yeah, like that’s a hard choice.

“If you’re okay with it, could I stay here?” Katsumi’s face lights up the same way it did back at the docks, and Doyle feels his heart skipping a very small beat.

“Of course! Grab something form the fridge, I’ll get a spare futon for you in a sec, and sure. We’re gonna have to think about the rest of the stuff in the morning though, but I know a guy for the psychiatry thing, dad was visiting him in the hospital in the first place, and then there’s paperwork, and Im balls at that kinda stuff, and-” Katsumi’s words blur as he keeps moving and talking, but Doyle nods along, a small smile finding its way onto his face. He’ll get through this. He’s got nobody chasing him, a future therapist to talk to, and Katsumi to help him if anything goes wrong.

This, Doyle thinks as Katsumi moves on to talking about how Doyle will love his friends, might just work out.

[initiumseries]

Which parts of BTVS did you not like and how would you have changed them?

Yes! Great question. 

So, if I’m being honest, most, if not all, of my issues with BTVS start after she graduates high school. I feel like the show lost the magic of the Scoobies bond and the older they got, the more distance we had from them as characters, the more OOC it felt like everyone started behaving, So, I’ll start with s4, buckle in this is gonna be long lol.

Season 4

So as usual, I like the idea of season 4. The gang has graduated, they’re growing up, and trying to find their place in such a big pond. On top of that, the Initiative is on campus (which makes sense, you can’t just blow up a high school and there are no repercussions for that, and it’s kinda cool the idea of instead of a govn’t lockdown, they infiltrate Sunnydale and are running experiments to weaponize demons. Clever, fun. I like it.), and ofc Buffy’s given up having a normal life, but now she just wants a normal relationship, and doesn’t even get that. I’m on board. Especially the idea that the gang inadvertently drifts away from each other because that’s real. That happens when you go away to college, even if you go away together. So my issues, are rooted in the details. 

Maggie Walsh turned into this weird obsessive surrogate mother, who wanted to get Buffy out of the way, except the execution was so sloppy. I LIKED commanding, no nonsense, bitch monster from hell Maggie Walsh, and I would have liked to see that follow through in how she attempts to dispose of Buffy, and how she handles Riley. She becomes this soft, weirdly maternal unhinged force after trying to kill Buffy, and I don’t really understand why. I would have liked to see more of that motherly role, while still rooted in that commander in chief sort of aura she exudes when we first meet her, when it comes to Riley. I also thought her death came too soon, like they just didn’t know what to do with her after she executed her function *coughs in the Anointed One* of creating tension between Buffy and Riley (which, honestly, his being in the Initiative at all would have been enough conflict if they had leaned into that without stuffing so much stuff in there). I definitely would have had Maggie maintain that strength and authority, while softening where necessary to emotionally manipulate Riley. I’d make it really clear that Riley is deeply confused because we believe the hold she has on him, and withdrawal on the drugs would have been a nice touch, but I think it came too soon. Which leads me directly into: 

Super cool. I remember when I first watched this on TV and the gang finally rebonded (after a HILARIOUS episode of them finally addressing their conflicts), they’d reached the climax with the Initiative and Adam and Buffy does a very Sailor Moon thing of all the different emotional strengths of her friends bond together to give her enough power to defeat Adam. LOVE IT. 

Except what’s the point? Prof. Walsh created Adam...for what exactly? We never really get a clear, salient reason for that, bc they kill her, and Adam’s exposition is...not sufficient to explain why she had an off the books project to stitch together a...demon son. It’s weird and especially because Adam doesn’t really do all that much, it really leaves me wondering like, what was the point? For me, I feel like, instead of making Adam a spectator for a lot of the drama that takes place in s4, I would have preferred him be the driving force. behind most things. 

Also: Riley’s Black friend would not have been such an angry misogynistic raging asshole because I’m tired of Black people being The Worst to make the white characters look better, more reasonable.

I would have needed a stronger explanation for Adam trying to turn Riley into...whatever that was. 

Willow would have been bi and I absolutely would have, if I went in that direction, had a much more fleshed out discovery of that fact (Because in this world Seth wouldn’t have left lol). I also would have made sure Willow and the actress who played Tara would have had the chemistry they deserved.  

Anya would not have stayed in Sunnydale. She would have left. She was a poor man’s Cordelia and had 0 character growth or interest. 

Season 5

Again, love the ideas. Suddenly Buffy has a sister we ALL knew wasn’t there before? A God shows up? What I love(d) about Buffy is that the escalations felt so natural? Like it didn’t feel like the show was like HoW dO wE oUtDo oURsElVes aGaIN?! It felt more organic like, well, yeah, the govnt. Oh shit, a GOD? D A M N! And Glory had personality! She was crazy! And it also matches alongside Buffy’s coming to grips with her own abilities. She’s one of the oldest slayers on record at this point, watching her in s1 and in s5 you SEE, her skill level is above and beyond, and now she meets a foe that still provides such a challenge, Buffy is scared. LOVE IT.

So Spike, getting neutered, was interesting at first, but it really starts to wear out its welcome for me, about this time. My problem being, he poses so little of a threat, that all his scenes start to feel like filler and not like they’re driving the plot forward in any useful way. His obsession with Buffy becoming sexual, was INLINE for Spike, but I liked Spike because he was a DICK, he was also dangerous, and after a lot of hilarious moments in S4, watching his basically creep around Buffy’s house and try to manipulate her into spending time together (which felt soooo pathetic to me in a way I didn’t like) and like, the Buffy bot (fucking ew) all season was just, not a fun time. I think, for me, I would have had Spike maintain his dignity as a character and I absolutely would not have had him threaten Dru’s life to drive home his obsession for Buffy. Ew. Yuck. Cringe. I just think there had to be more that Spike could do this season than run around chasing Buffy’s coattails. 

One again, Tara/Willow. Tara had no character development (even in an episode that was created to provide her with development? I definitely would have made use of that episode to create more ACTUAL depth for her character) so then to turn around and have her become mindless for basically the REST of the season, is just, rude lol. And because they have no chemistry and their relationship feels so...baseless, when this moment happens, I don’t feel anything. I don’t believe WIllow would be this angry, this heartbroken, this devastated that she’d take in such dark magicks and blindly go after Glory. I’d believe it if it were Oz, but Tara/Willow do not get the same level of build up and relationship establishing for me to buy this. I would have changed that.

Unpopular opinion, but I also would have made Dawn less of an UTTERLY irritating, shrill, whiny, screaming white tween. I get it, she was supposed to be the baby. But I get nothing from watching a white girl who is mostly just bored and irritated with her life, start shoplifting from her sister’s friends and in general, because she’s kinda sad sometimes. Get a grip. The only time I feel bad for her is when she finds out she’s not real. Actual problems. Wicked, I’m on board. But I think I would have just made her less fucking annoying and whiny and a lot more sympathetic. She still could have been frustrating and bratty, but in a way that was a bit more likeable, so that in those moments where she’s *genuinely* struggling, you feel for her on a broader scope. I would not have made her do all of those incredibly infuriating, incredibly stupid things, like running away in the middle of a dangerous situation. Because it ends up reading to me, like Buffy’s anger, frustration and criticisms of Dawn aren’t her being too hard on her as the eldest, as the Slayer, but accurate because Dawn is a horrendous nightmare of a new human being with no real redeeming qualities. Definitely a better ways to execute that. 

Also, I feel like this season is where the Scoobies drift again, but this time we aren’t really addressing it? Buffy’s dealing with Joyce getting sick, Riley being a POS, Spike stalking her, and she never leans on Willow for any of it. They never even really talk about any of the things going on. It’s such a missed opportunity to lean back into the core gang navigating growing up together. Willow is now basically the guardian of her new partner, and again, we don’t really see WIllow lean on Buffy at all. And Giles is preparing to leave, which, to me, felt organic. He felt like Buffy had outgrown him, but I think he was also trying to rediscover himself, but is pulled back into being a Watcher and he seems both grateful and disappointed. I would have liked to, I donno, make that a little clearer. Also what is Xander doing at this point? He’s outgrown his usefulness as well, so he kinda just becomes a hanger’s on. If Xander doesn’t just leave Sunnydale after s3 or 4. He needs to do *something*, he should have been reintegrated into the group in a new way if it wasn’t through school. 

Season 6 

This is so hard. I feel like this season is just, SO dark, SO heavy, and absent the levity that had been established up til s4. But it’s also really earned. Buffy is going through it. The layers are wonderful. I LOVE IT. But I also needed like...emotional breaks? And this is also kinda where I needed the scoobies to feel like scoobies, and trying to figure out how to help their friend.  Xander and Willow have been friends their entire lives, and season 3 really fleshes out that emotional shorthand they have, but it’s so quickly abandoned in s4 and onward. Suddenly Willow/Xander feel like strangers with Anya and Tara between them. I feel like there should have been more moments of Xander and Willow just..being, and struggling with Buffy’s loss together in a way that only the two of them really understand because like Buffy said Xander has a piece of her that Oz, and so then Tara, can’t reach. That should be a constant thoroughline. Xander should have been the first person to see something wasn’t quite right with Willow and the magic. 

Giles should have left earlier to give more time between him leaving and Buffy coming back. I like the idea of Giles beginning to build a life for himself in England and literally dropping everything once he found out Buffy was back. I emotionally hate the conflict of Willow threatening Giles, but I like it as a character development issue, and Giles definitely should have side eyed Willow, maybe even brought up his concerns later with Xander. 

I think I also would have had Spike leave Sunnydale and come back when Buffy does. I didn’t need a reformed Spike, and it would have been interesting to see him ingratiate himself with the group now that Buffy is back, and he’s the only one who sees how much pain she’s in. 

I HATED Warren and the group. The disgustingly overwhelming and unchecked misogyny and Warren was INSANELY unlikeable. I don’t need to like him, but I needed some catharsis way before we got it. He was HORRENDOUS. 

Even in death, Tara is bland. 

Willow’s magic addiction legit comes out of nowhere. I needed more organic build up than Amy, who has been a rat for like 3 years, suddenly being like “hey I know this guys who can give us magic drugs!” 

The chasm between Willow and Buffy this season would have hit if they hadn’t been distant since s3. 

I think we needed the seeds for Dark!Willow planted a lot earlier like I described. 

Also a lot more evidence that Willow was running away from her nerdy past because when it comes up here, it’s completely left field.

This would have hit harder if they still felt close. 

Season 7

Fuck man, the whole thing was awful. But I ESPECIALLY would have thrown out that left field retcon of Buffy having been in an asylum. I lost sleep over that shit lol.

 But I would have totally rewritten season 7. If Spike’s involvement was necessary (it wasn’t), then I absolutely would not have had her defend him against Wood and Giles. I would have had her treat him extremely coolly. Like a tool they require. There would have been *some* level of redemption for him that was believable within the confines of his character, but not so much that we forget he’s an assaulter.

 The Potentials would have been WAY fucking less horrendously annoying and I really would have leaned into conflict avoidance with the scoobies that reaches a peak when Xander loses his eye. Giles and Buffy would have renegotiated their adult parent/child relationship in a far healthier way and we would have had a lot more interiority with Buffy like we’ve had, pretty much since the show’s inception. 

Angel would have been there when Buffy was isolated and alone, not Spike. Because #bangel4lyfe lmao. They still woulda kissed as a “greeting” lol. Buffy would not have told Spike she loved him, or that she ever loved him. She woulda told that dude thank you and dipped out of the cave lol.